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*It isn't, then. So you have room for my protege, who will be arriving this coming Sat.u.r.day.*
*What!* Odeon was startled, though only briefly. Because someone had served Shayan didn't mean that person was beyond redemption; theoretically, Shayan himself could be saved, as he'd once commented to Joanie. *I'll consider her when she gets here, but that's all I'll promise.*
*That'll be adequate--you'll be surprised, I think, at her spiritual state. She's committed few sins.*
That statement was almost as surprising as the h.e.l.l-King's peculiar-seeming chattiness. Odeon knew better than to relax his guard too much, but his investigator's curiosity was aroused. *That's hard to believe.*
*Nevertheless, it is true.* Shayan gave the impression of a sardonic smile. *I'm called the Father of Lies, priest, but that's to salve the feelings of those who don't want to believe me. The truth is a much more versatile and useful tool--and usually a far more painful one.
Sara has acted under my compulsions most of her life, so most of what you'd call her sins are chargeable to me instead. And the fact that she's been taking the Sacraments from me doesn't alter their validity, which I find highly amusing.*
It was a good thing for the girl that was true, Odeon thought. *And will you remove those compulsions before sending her here?*
*I think not,* Shayan told him. *I could, easily--but if I have to lose her to you, you must be willing to pay my price. You will be the one to remove my compulsions, if you want her.*
*You know I don't have any choice,* Odeon replied. *You'll have to show me how--and tell me the price.*
*Showing you how is the price. Giving you that ability involves restructuring part of your mind, which I promise will make you pray you were enduring Inquisitor Cortin's professional attentions instead. I won't injure you--for reasons you do not and cannot now understand, that would not be to my benefit--but I can and will make you suffer.
I'd suggest you find a place where you can't be heard screaming, and where you won't injure yourself. It might also be a good idea to use restraints.*
It went against Odeon's grain to take anything from Shayan willingly, but as he'd said, he didn't have a choice under the circ.u.mstances, either as law officer or as priest. He'd take the instruction--and the suggestions. *What about another of the team, to help?*
*If you wish. You'll feel me again when you're ready.*
Odeon s.h.i.+vered as he felt the contact snap. He'd known he'd have to face Shayan eventually, and he'd been sure it would be an unpleasant experience--but he hadn't expected it this soon, for even a remotely similar purpose, and he'd underestimated the unpleasantness. This definitely cla.s.sified as something he'd much rather avoid, even though he knew he wouldn't. He prayed for the strength to do it right, then tried to decide who he should get to help.
Joanie was out for obvious reasons, he didn't care to have Sis see him screaming, and Chuck didn't have the experience to handle a situation like this promised to be. That left Tony, Dave, and Tiny--with Priest-Inquisitor Bain the most logical choice.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Mike?"
Odeon tested the shackles that held him. Dave had padded them, but otherwise he could have been the Inquisitor's subject instead of his senior officer, spouse, and friend. "Of course not--got an alternative?"
Bain shook his head. "No, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
Okay, you're as ready as I can get you."
Odeon stiffened when he felt Shayan's mind-touch, but the promised pain didn't come immediately. *I had intended to show my lady the less pleasant aspects of my realm,* the h.e.l.l-King told him, *but she believes it to be an illusion. So I will show her this operation instead. She will also believe it to be an illusion--until you remove my compulsions. Then she will know the truth, that they could be neither imposed nor removed by a normal human agency. And beneath it she has considerable empathy. Enough to fit into the group you--and you, Priest-Lieutenant Bain--are part of.*
*Get on with it!* Odeon sent.
*Such impatience for torment! Would that I could promise you eons of it--but hours will have to suffice.* Both men were fully aware of Shayan's regret at that--and his antic.i.p.ation. *Still, I can make it last that long, though it isn't truly necessary; the procedure need take no longer than seconds, and would be equally effective if you were unconscious. Either would rob it of what little pleasure I can extract from my lady's loss, however. So, priest--suffer my pleasure.* All true, Shayan thought, as far as the ability to remove compulsions was concerned--but Odeon's pain, including that of believing the anguish unnecessary, was essential to the tempering process. Seizing the other's mind, Shayan began his mental surgery.
Odeon screamed, convulsing. Bain shuddered as they continued, going on and on, pausing barely long enough for Odeon to inhale. The Inquisitor was sickly grateful to Shayan for recommending restraints; without them, Mike's struggles would be breaking bones. There was no skill involved here, no subtlety, no hope for the subject to end it by confessing when the pain became unendurable--which it did, as quickly as Shayan had promised. Though Bain was no longer sharing their mental contact, his Inquisitor's training let him know when Odeon reached his breaking point and was forced beyond it, to agony no drug could keep a man alive through, much less conscious.
But Odeon did remain conscious, with full awareness that it was Shayan's power keeping him that way--and the understanding, at last, that this was what Joanie and Sis had suffered from the h.e.l.l-King.
Rape was rape, be it physical or mental--and horrible as the pain was, the worst part was the degrading violation.
Bain prayed. There was nothing else to do until, eventually, it ended.
With a final convulsion like he was being shaken, Odeon went limp.
Bain hurriedly freed him from the restraints and carried him into the bathroom. Mike'd need a hot soak to relax strained muscles, then days of recuperation--G.o.d, what would Joanie think when she saw him?
Cortin didn't sleep well. Her dreams were troubling, nightmares of Shayan tormenting her team in ways she couldn't stop, gloating over them, taunting her with her helplessness. And it didn't improve when she woke; the feeling of something wrong with her people wouldn't go away, even when she told herself it was nothing more than a bad dream.
After a quarter hour of being unable to get back to sleep, Cortin got up and put on a robe. Foolish as it was, it looked like the only way to settle her mind was to make sure everyone was all right.
It didn't worry her too much that Odeon wasn't in his room, though, when she checked there first; he was probably with Sis or Betty. But Sis was in with Tiny, Betty with Chuck, and Tony was sprawled out alone, with a contented expression on his face. It wasn't until she checked the common-room without finding either Mike or Dave that her worry got serious. Dave hadn't said anything about having a subject he needed to work on overnight, and Mike didn't have any plans she knew about. Their not being in their rooms or the common-room didn't prove anything, necessarily--but she couldn't help being concerned. She went back to her room for her dungeon keys and gunbelt, then went below ground.
Her worry got worse when she saw the "In Use" light at Bain's suite.
She went into the observation room, which didn't help--padded shackles in the third-stage room?--but still nothing of the missing two.
She left the observation room and stood before the suite's main door for several seconds, debating with herself. If Dave was conducting an interrogation with Mike's help, she'd feel foolish intruding--but if one or both of them was hurt, she'd never forgive herself if she didn't. Deciding, she opened the door. "Mike? Dave?"
"Oh, G.o.d," a m.u.f.fled voice said. More strongly, she heard, "In the bathroom, Joanie. Sis with you?"
"No." Cortin covered the distance to the bathroom in record time, appalled at what she saw when she opened the door. "What happened? Is he alive?"
"Yeah--but he needs help. Take a look."
Cortin did, and crossed herself. There were no apparent injuries, but Mike looked horrible--so pale the scar across his face looked b.l.o.o.d.y-fresh, his muscles spasming in tiny tremors. It was obvious he'd been severely tortured, though she couldn't imagine how, with no wounds. She still wanted to know what had happened, but that desire was nothing next to her need to remedy whatever had been done to her second-in-command and heir. "Go get Sis--she and Tiny are in his room.
Have him bring down as many blankets as he can carry. Then call Ivan, he may have information I need."
"Right." Bain hurried out.
Praying as hard as she could, Cortin knelt beside the tub, touching Odeon's forehead. He wasn't chilled, so Dave was treating him for shock rather than cold. Wrists and ankles were bruised, consistent with the padded shackles--but it didn't make sense! Even if she ignored the impossibility of Dave interrogating one of the team, he wouldn't use padded shackles, and his subject would certainly have more serious injuries than simple bruises! Yet Mike had been terribly hurt, despite his lack of wounds, and Dave had been there--watching, if nothing else. What was going on?
At least Mike didn't seem to be in immediate danger, as far as she could tell. His pulse was weak but steady and his breathing was regular, not labored, though also not as strong as she'd like. The muscle tremors were slowing too, which was a good sign.
Moments later she heard the door open, and turned. "Sis? We're in here."
"Dave told me." Cortin moved aside, making way for the medic to kneel beside her patient. Chang opened her kit and began checking Odeon's condition. "What was done to him?"
"I don't know," Cortin said, controlling her frustration with an effort. "I can't even make a realistic guess--didn't Dave tell you anything?"
"He was too upset to tell me more than the basic information I required--that Mike had been hurt, but only minimally injured." Chang continued her examination for a few minutes, then stood. "He is exhausted, and there may be some muscular strain in addition to the bruises; otherwise, he is well. He requires only warmth, rest, and time for complete recovery."
"He'll get all he needs." Cortin turned to Pritchett, who'd come in while Chang was working. "You brought the blankets?"
"In the office."
"Good. Sis, how soon can we move him someplace more comfortable?"
"When he stops trembling--a few minutes, I should say."
"Will it be safe to take him upstairs, or should I have a bed brought down?"
"It will be safe." Chang smiled. "His hurts are not life-threatening, though he will be easily fatigued and probably uncomfortable for three or four days. Possibly longer, though I would be surprised if he is not fully recovered within a week."