Page 89 of Shifter King
WroOth remained somber, his brow furrowed. He cast away the twigs he had been breaking and sighed. "Very few Vawtrians reach a level of stability with their forms to be able to be near their veskaro and shift within years. You know how long it took me with Mara. You have been with Amelia only a short time. A very short time, and you love her. There is no shame in that."
Love. He hated that word at the moment. Hated that in the dream she'd been torn from him and that was all she had been able to say. At least he hoped that was a dream.
If she managed to reach him through the mindreading and all she said was that she loved him, then—
He paced to the end of the clearing and struck his fist against a boulder. Dull pain flared out from his fist and radiated up through his shoulder and into his spine.
If it had been real—it meant she didn't know what to do. That she was in trouble. That she had no other fact or bit of knowledge to pass him. But she wanted, perhaps even needed, to say something. So she chose that. He drew his hand over his brow, pinched the bridge of his nose, and struggled to find his focus. And what had he even been able to tell her? That he was coming for her. That he would find her.
"There is one more thing you should know, WroOth," AaQar said. "Opotwo says they'll force her to drink a particularly potent psychic wine. That there is probably no way to prevent it."
"Psychic wine at this stage will all but destroy her mind," Naatos bellowed. He spun around. Was there no end to this madness? "She cannot."
"I agree. It would be exceptionally dangerous at this point. But we might have a solution." AaQar held up a small pearl hung on a slim chain. "They gave us this. It will help her. She can survive with her sanity so long as she consumes it with this."
"And we're trusting them?" QueQoa asked quietly. He had not moved from his spot beneath the oak since the Bealorns left. "We're trusting that this isn't something else. That they wouldn't conclude it's safer if Amelia is dead."
No one would be safe if Amelia died.
AaQar nodded though he did not seem comforted. "I trust them in this matter. They fear Naatos and what he will do if she does die. When WroOth gets there, perhaps there is a way to prevent it from happening at all, but I fear…there may be no other way around it."
Every part of him roared for and demanded vengeance. "No. She is not drinking that. If she does, she will be lost and may as well be dead. There is no one here who can bring here back. No one who lives on any of the worlds. It will be worse than actual death."
"Naatos. Most likely, they will force her to drink this or they will lobotomize her with manticore-cabiza venom, Naatos," AaQar said.
QueQoa's mouth fell open.
WroOth rolled his eyes and then rested his hands on the top of his head.
"Opotwo said that the Abliatos were the first to do it. Some of the Bealorn nations have chosen to mimic it. It is incurable. But they have been working with some of their masters to control such individuals through hypnosis. It is—an unfortunate and highly disputed practice." AaQar spoke carefully, his eyes fixed on Naatos as if he expected him to rupture at any moment.
Naatos turned to WroOth. "You get her out of there. Whatever it takes. I don't care how many people you have to kill. I don't care what you have to do. You get her out of there."
"If there is any way to get her out before the wedding, you have my word that I will, brother. I will do whatever it takes. And they will pay for this," WroOth said solemnly. He broke off another branch and peeled the bark off.
"WroOth," AaQar said, "assuming there is no other way around this, drop the pearl into the wine. It will not keep the psychic wine from having an effect on her, but it will slow down its impact. It isn't a real pearl. It's compressed oclese and powdered hachyx, but there's a thin permeable layer that will fall apart once in the right liquid."
The pearl danced on the end of the chain, catching the sunlight.
A realization struck Naatos like a blade. Lunging forward, he grabbed hold of it. As he stared down at the glistening bead of iridescent white, he started to smile. Yes. Of course. The Neyeb used something similar in the betrothal necklaces and to strengthen bonds. It would certainly have a slowing effect on the psychic wine if those were the ingredients. A slowing effect that would allow for other bonds to be strengthened if properly treated. There was one more thing he could do. "The colrum serum. You still have it?"
AaQar nodded slowly. "Yes…had to put it in a new container. It's continued to strengthen."
"If I can't return this to the right appearance, you can remember what it is supposed to look like, right?" He glanced at all of his brothers. Each in turn nodded in agreement.
"What are you planning?" WroOth asked.
Realization dawned over AaQar, his eyes widening briefly. "Naatos, you can't—"
"I will." He tucked it in the inner pocket of his doublet.
"We aren't naturally psychic." AaQar held his hands up, crossing in front of him. "We have no idea what that is going to do to you if you do."
"No. But I was trained. And I won't even be able to take half of it. But I can take some."
AaQar pressed his lips into a tight line. "Naatos, if you do this, you will likely, for a time, lose your mind or walk that border."
"Then lock me up. Chain me somewhere. When she sobers, I will as well. If they require this for the wedding, she cannot be high on psychic wine. And I will recover faster than she. So…yes. Unless we can get her out of there sooner."
