Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [96]
An‘desha struggled to find the words to describe his own situation, and decided on the simplest possible explanation. “I was Shin’a’in,” he said at last. “Longer ago, I think, than you realize, my body is older in years than it looks. I am—was—linked by descent to an ancient mage, an Adept. A very evil man, as evil as any of your demons. Because of that, he was able to—” What to say? “—to steal my body.”
“Ah!” Karal nodded with complete understanding, the very first time he had seen that statement met with anything other than blank incomprehension. “Possession. That’s what we call it. That was one of the powers the demons had, to be able to put on the body of a person as if it was a garment. The Black-robes used that power for ill. But Vkandis also has that power, and can use it with the Priests and sometimes with very holy lay people for good. It is called ‘the Voice of Flame,’ and Vkandis can use the voice of the person to deliver prophecy. But this Fal-cons-bane must have been a very strong demon to displace you; only the strongest and most evil of the demons had that power.” Karal’s voice and expression were quite sober. “You are a very lucky person, An’desha. Most people do not survive the touch of a demon upon their souls. You must be very strong as well.”
“You do understand! Though I think it was luck that let me survive.” For once he was talking to someone who didn’t look at him as if he was half an idiot and all mad. “Strong,” “evil,” and “demonic” were certainly all words that could have been used to describe Mornelithe. “He had lived in many other bodies, and I still am not certain how I remained alive after he took mine. Perhaps it was because I was a coward and tried to flee instead of fighting him.”
“Perhaps he had grown careless,” Karal suggested shrewdly. “Demons are known for their pride, and great pride makes for carelessness. So he stole your body. Then what occurred?”
“He did great evil with my body, and I could not stop him,” An‘desha continued, the words tumbling out of him now. “Then he sought to bring harm to my people, and to the Hawkbrothers, and these Valdemarans, all at once. But he was damaged by some of what he had done, and my Goddess sent to me two of her—” Now what Valdemaran word could he use to describe the Avatars? “—two of her spirit-beings. They helped me, a mage called ‘Need’ helped me, and Elspeth and Darkwind and Firesong helped me, and Falconsbane was cast out after much battle. When it was all over, the Goddess made me look the age I had been when he first stole my body, or nearly, returning to me the years he had stolen from me.”
Well, it was oversimplified but fundamentally correct. Karal was looking at him with a sober expression on his face, and biting his lip as if he had something he wanted to say but was not certain how it would be accepted.
“Possession is a great evil, if it is not the Voice of Flame,” he said finally. “I think it is a greater evil than even you know, and you were possessed in truth.”
“How do you mean?” An’desha asked, hoping that perhaps, just perhaps, this Karal might have some real answers for him. He might be the only person in this whole country who truly did understand, completely, what had been done to him.
“Possession can hurt the one possessed,” Karal told him earnestly, leaning, forward with the intensity of a greyhound about to be loosed for the chase. “It can make deep wounds, unseen wounds to the spirit. It is wounds like these, though they are invisible, that are harder to heal than any physical wounding. Evil corrupts, like the touch of any foul thing; it corrodes, like acid. It can etch the shape of itself into a spirit.”
That was exactly what the Avatars had said! An’desha nodded, not bothering to hide his astonishment. But Karal was