Spirit Walk_ Enemy of My Enemy (Book 2) - Christie Golden [81]
Slowly, as if he were moving through water, he turned and saw Moset dive for the Changeling, frantically trying to press a hypospray to Ellis’s throat. Chakotay knew that if Moset were successful, the Changeling would be locked for a time in true human form. And if he was human, he could be hurt. Moset’s aura was a color that ranged from a healthy, forest green to a putrid, rotting hue. Even the Changeling had one—inky black with hints of rust.
Moset has done evil things, but he isn’t an evil person. But the Changeling is almost lost. Chakotay was surprised how much this mattered to him.
Snarling, the Changeling blocked Moset’s clumsy attack with ease. He shoved the Cardassian back forcefully. Moset stumbled and his head struck the side of one of the beds. At once his aura shifted hues. Unconscious, not dead, Chakotay thought, somehow knowing that if Moset had been killed, the aura would have vanished.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sekaya lying on the bed, not moving, but enveloped in a warm golden color that told him she was all right. Kaz, his aura shifting from blue-green to rust-orange and back, lunged for Ellis, wielding Moset’s chair. But the Changeling saw the Trill coming and darted out of the way in time. Kaz slammed into the table. Vials and other pieces of equipment went crashing to the floor.
I’ve got to help them! Chakotay thought. He tried to summon the powers he knew lay within him. But there were so many clamoring to be used…and how did one grasp them…?
Yes. This was how he was to use it. Just when he thought he’d captured one of the slippery things, the Changeling cried out, “To her!”
Like creatures of a single mind, which in a sense they were, the colonists abandoned their attack on Black Jaguar and raced toward Sekaya.
“No!” screamed Chakotay, reaching out with his powers in shock and desperation. He was too slow, too late to stop them. The mental blast he fired sent the huge creatures flying through the air, but not before one of them had leaped onto Sekaya’s bed and slashed her body with both powerful forepaws.
The lovely golden aura that had swaddled his sister disappeared. Chakotay stared at the grisly sight of several gaping wounds across Sekaya’s torso.
“Sekaya!” he cried. He jolted stubborn, sluggish limbs into action, tried to move toward her. Surely there was something he could do. But before he could reach her, Arak Katal was upon him.
And it truly was Katal now, the familiar face from years past filled with hatred and a cruel amusement. Alerted by his heightened senses, Chakotay turned in time to meet the threat, roaring in fury. But even as Chakotay closed his hands over the throat of someone he had called “friend,” he realized his error.
Katal wasn’t a full Changeling with all its attendant abilities, but he wasn’t a human, either. Chakotay couldn’t hurt him, hard as he tried.
Only your thoughts and your spirit can cripple him. Black Jaguar lurked in the doorway, tail lashing, her eyes fastened on Chakotay. Yours, and that of those he has so cruelly abused.
It was hard to detach from the heat of grief and fury; hard to cease trying to physically subdue his enemy and instead back off and try another tactic. But it was the only option Chakotay had.
Still holding on to Katal, as much to protect himself, Kaz, and the still-unconscious Moset as anything, Chakotay gathered his thoughts. He leaped backward and issued a mental command. It was obeyed. Every item in the place that was not securely fastened down was lifted and brought crashing down on Katal. Cursing, the Changeling went down under the barrage of chairs, equipment, tools, and cabinets.
But it would not hold him for long. Chakotay retreated into himself, ignoring the part of him that wanted to panic, wanted to somehow avenge the murder of his sister. He reached out instead to the chaotic minds and spirits of the colonists.
This time he knew what to expect, and he walked inside their minds with no fear, but with a deep compassion. In the swirl of emotions and thoughts given shape and color, he stretched out his thoughts