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Sought(6)



“Rare indeed.” Lock cleared his throat uncomfortably. “What does he have in the box?” For the huge Doby had produced a lacquered green box from somewhere. He presented it respectfully to the wise woman, holding it in both huge hands.

“A transference device.” Mother L’rin opened the box and removed a plain black wooden handle. It was about two feet long and tapered on one end but there was nothing attached to it as far as Lock could see.

Deep must have been thinking the same thing. “I thought you called it a whip?”

“It is. Patience, warrior. All will be made clear.” Holding the black handle carefully, Mother L’rin pressed the smooth, round butt of it against Kat’s right temple. “Release it, child,” she murmured, stroking the shining auburn hair. “Let the pain go. Let it flow. Another has agreed to bear this burden, let me take it from you.”

Kat moaned softly and her hand jerked in Lock’s. He squeezed her fingers carefully, watching her face for any sign.

Then, slowly, the handle began to change. Wires spouted from it—three long silver wires that seemed to be made of brilliant light. They lengthened and thickened like snakes growing out of the tip of the black handle until they reached to the ground.

Lock watched in amazement as the three tongues of light blazed and sparked like live things at the end of the whip. Like hungry animals waiting to be fed, he couldn’t help thinking.

“A little more, child. Just a little more,” coaxed Mother L’rin. Suddenly the whip’s three tongues shivered and bright silver spikes grew from their ends.

Deep’s face remained impassive as he stared at the lethal device in the old woman’s hand. “And that’s a physical manifestation of her pain?”

Mother L’rin nodded. “This is the agony she’s been enduring ever since you and your twin used her as a focus. Tell me, Deep, does the sight fill you with dread?”

“Dread? No.” His mouth twisted.

Lock spoke for both of them. “What my brother feels—what we both feel—is shame. To think what she went through because of what we did. So much pain…”

“Which is about to be transferred to me,” Deep reminded him dryly. “Come on.” He jerked his head at Doby and began taking off his green uniform shirt. “I assume you’re the lucky one who gets to beat me. I doubt Mother L’rin has much time to practice her whipping technique.”

“You’re correct in that, warrior. Hands that offer healing must never deal in pain.” The old woman nodded at Doby. “Take him to the Stone Throat. Beat him until the whip is nothing more than a handle once more.”

“Wait!” Lock put out a hand, fear for his twin squeezing his throat. “How many strokes will that take?”

“As many as it takes,” Mother L’rin said calmly.

“That’s no answer!” Lock was beginning to be angry. “I know that Deep hasn’t been very respectful, Mother L’rin, but to beat him with that…that thing is—”

“Fine,” Deep finished for him. “Leave off, Brother. It’s all right. Think what Kat went through.” He nodded at the whip and its spitting, hissing tongues of fiery silver light. “Look at her pain.”

“It wasn’t your decision alone to let her act as a focus,” Lock protested. “I agreed to it as well as you. I should take half the whipping at least.”

“Pain cannot be divided between souls, it can only be transferred,” Mother L’rin said. “And if the whip isn’t used soon, the agony it holds will revert to its original owner.”

“In other words, let’s get on with it,” Deep growled. “Don’t worry about me, Brother,” he said when Lock opened his mouth to protest. “And don’t feel bad—you can tend me afterwards. It’s better this way—you’re a much better nurse than I am.”

“That’s true,” Lock acknowledged ruefully. “But though you take all the pain, the blame is half mine.”

“You can pay me back later.” Deep nodded at Kat. “Take care of her,” he said roughly.

“I will,” Lock promised.

“Go.” Mother L’rin handed the hissing, spitting whip to her huge servant. “The Stone Throat. And mind you do the job right. I’ll know if you don’t—I’ll hear it in his screams.”

“Yes, Mother.” Despite his immense size, the eunuch’s voice was as soft and high as a girl’s. “All shall be done according to your will.”

“See that it is.” She waved one wrinkled hand dismissively. “And now, let me see what I can do to keep this sweet child in the land of the living.” She stroked Kat’s silky red hair and didn’t spare another glance at her servant or Deep.