Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [194]
There wasn’t time for finesse, for study, for anything other than what he was already doing—running headlong into the thing, and hoping that it didn’t decide to kill him, too.
Fear held him rigid and made a metallic taste in his mouth. He closed his eyes and shouted at Trenor to drive him the last few spans remaining—
—opened his eyes again, just as they actually reached it, and passed into it—
Something seized and held him.
****what****
He could not move, not even to breathe. He was surrounded by light, yet could not see. He could only wait, while whatever it was that held him examined him, inside and out.
****Priest?****
Was he a Priest? An’desha had named him “priest,” but it had been in jest. Or had it? Solaris had named him “priest,” but he thought it had merely been expedience. What had he done to earn the name?
****ah****
Suddenly, it let him go. He found himself still in Trenor’s saddle, looking at An’desha and Florian through a curtain of rippling light that seemed thinner here than elsewhere.
:It is thinner. That is so we can reach them,: Altra said, urgently. :It is coming, Karal, take your position. Don’t just stand there thinking, move!:
He tumbled off Trenor’s back and took the stance he’d been coached in, bracing himself and holding both his arms out and up.
:Now. Into the trance I taught you.:
Obediently, he spoke his keywords and fell into a light trance; not so deep that he was unaware of everything around him, but too deep for him to move on his own now. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen after that; Altra and An’desha hadn’t gone into it—
A fraction of a heartbeat later, he realized why they hadn’t gone into it. If they had, he’d have been too terrified to go through with it all.
From Altra’s side, a torrent of power poured into him; from Florian’s, another. There was something in him that managed to join those two streams of energy and actually hold them—even though from his point of view, it was like the one time he’d foolishly mounted an unbroken stallion. He was not controlling the power; it was permitting him—briefly—to hold it!
Then An’desha somehow reached out to him from across the border, and the two streams of power that had been made one found their outlet.
Now An’desha did something with that energy that Karal could not see, and could only sense, very dimly, as a blind man might sense a mighty fortress being built beside him. He arched his back and closed his eyes to concentrate on holding the power steady; the longer the power “permitted” him to hold it, the more control he actually had over it.
It was not easy, and he sensed something else. If he slipped, it was going to do terrible things to him, and if he survived the experience, the likelihood that he would regret surviving was very high.
He no sooner had that unsettling revelation than the disruption-wave hit.
It was worse than all the others combined.
The ground heaved and buckled under him, as if this was the earthquake that would end the world. He went entirely blind, but not in the sense of being immersed in total darkness. Instead, there was nothing to see but color and light, swirls and whirlwinds and cascades of color and light. The light was something he could hear; it roared and rushed in his ears. The color had flavors; iron, scorched stone, and copper. Somewhere out there he knew that Florian and Altra were still pouring energy into him; he felt it, hot and primal, deep inside him—and An’desha needed that power. So he held to it, even when the light turned into a million serpents that threatened to crush him, even when the colors tried to wash him away, right up until everything collapsed and he was all alone in an unending darkness, and he knew he would never, ever find his way out again—
—that was when he faltered.
Fear overcame him; he felt the