At first the sensation had merely been odd. As soon as the n'qlae reached forth with her magic, Besh was aware of her presence in his mind. It wasn't intrusive; as Grinsa had promised, her touch was light. But there could be no mistaking the fact that something alien had stepped into his thoughts. When the a'laq asked him the first question, Besh answered without thinking, without fully intending to speak. One moment he was listening and the next, words were coming out of his mouth. It felt strange, even a bit frightening. But he could hear what he was saying, and he knew that it was the truth, and so he didn't resist.

So it went for several moments: a question and then his answer. He didn't have to think or struggle to find the right word. Almost as soon as the thoughts formed in his head, he gave them voice. There was something quite comfortable about it; he could see how easy it might be for a Qirsi to take control of another person's thoughts.

Then, abruptly, it all changed. At first, for just an instant, he thought that the n'qlae had tightened her control over him. Suddenly her touch wasn't light anymore. It felt like a powerful hand had taken hold of his head and thrust him underwater, intent on drowning him. He tried to fight, to shake off the hand. And that was when he realized that it wasn't the woman after all. He still felt her presence. He even sensed her emotions. Confusion, anger, and something else that he couldn't name. But her touch remained as gentle as ever.

It had to be the a'laq. Or perhaps Q'Daer. He refused to believe that Grinsa would do this to him; he didn't think that the Forelander's wife could. And he thought it unlikely that the guards would dare to interfere.

All of this occurred to him in the span of a single heartbeat, the time it took him to realize that another had control of his thoughts. Then he heard the things this second sorcerer was making him say, and terror gripped his heart.

Sir) and I were going to sicken them ourselves… If you're exposed to the plague, all of you will die…

He'd heard Grinsa's warnings about not fighting the magic, but he didn't care. What did it matter whether his mind remained sound if the Fal'Borna were going to execute him and Sirj? He fought with all his might, though he had no idea how to throw off such magic. He tried to reach for his knife so that he might conjure a spell-any spell-to win his freedom. He tried to scream that these weren't his words.

But he was utterly helpless. He could no more lift a hand in his own defense than he could fly to the sun.

He looked from face to face, seeking help from any of them. The guards eyed him with contempt, and perhaps a hint of fear. The a'laq grinned back at him, seeming to relish what he saw on Besh's face. The n'qlae wasn't looking at him at all, but instead had her eyes fixed on her husband. Grinsa, Cresenne, and Sirj appeared horrified, as if they knew just what had happened, but didn't know how to make matters right again.

And Q'Daer. To Besh's surprise, the young Fal'Borna looked both troubled and confused, as if he didn't want to believe what he'd heard Besh say, but knew he had no choice but to believe it.

The a'laq had done this for the young Weaver. In that moment Besh was as certain of this as he was of his own name. Neither Grinsa nor Cresenne would ever be convinced that he and Sirj were murderers. But Q'Daer was more than willing to believe this of them. And now he would be certain. He'd tell others in the sept what Besh had said here, and they would share his certainty.

"Let him go," Grinsa said, stepping forward to stand beside Besh and glaring at E'Menua. It seemed that the Forelander understood exactly what had happened.

An instant later, that firm hand was gone from his mind. And then the n'qlae withdrew her magic as well.

Freed from their control, Besh actually staggered forward. Then, righting himself with Grinsa's aid, he fixed the a'laq with as cold a look as he could muster.

"You bastard!" he said.

The guards started forward, brandishing their spears. Q'Daer pulled his knife from his belt, and E'Menua practically launched himself at Besh, a wild look on his face.

But Grinsa put himself between Besh and the a'laq.

"Out of my way, Forelander!" E'Menua said, the words coming out like a growl. "No one speaks to me like that! Especially not a dark-eye sorcerer!" Grinsa held his ground.

"I said, get out of my way!"

The a'laq reared back, his fist clenched. Besh was certain he was going to hit the Forelander, who didn't raise a hand in his own defense.

Cresenne shouted the Forelander's name in warning.

But suddenly E'Menua froze, his eyes widening.

"Step back," Grinsa said calmly, though his eyes glittered dangerously. E'Menua didn't move. He just continued to stare at Grinsa, his hand still raised.

"I'll do it if I have to, A'Laq. Don't make me."

Slowly the a'laq lowered his hand and straightened. "You heard what he said. He as much as admitted that they're enemies of our people. And still you protect him?"

"He said what you made him say."

"I didn't make him say anything!" the a'laq shot back. But the denial sounded hollow and forced.

"I think you did."

E'Menua narrowed his eyes. "Tread carefully, Forelander. You're coming very close to calling me a liar."

"Am I?" Grinsa said, sounding unconcerned. "Perhaps we should ask the n'qlae what happened."

E'Menua smiled. "Yes, let's." He turned to his wife. "Did the Mettai speak truthfully?" he asked.

She regarded her husband for just a moment before lowering her gaze.

"Yes, A'Laq. He answered questions truthfully."

"All of them?" Grinsa demanded.

Her eyes flicked toward him, then returned to E'Menua. "As long as my magic held him, he couldn't tell a lie."

Grinsa opened his mouth, as if to question her further. Before he could, however, she turned and hurried away, back toward the z'kal she shared with E'Menua.

"You see?" the a'laq said, looking pleased with himself. "It's just as I told you. These men want to destroy us. They used you and Q'Daer to win our trust, but they're enemies of the Fal'Borna, just like those Mettai who march against us with the Eandi army."

"I felt your magic on my mind," Besh said. "I felt the n'qlae's and I felt yours as well. You made me say those things at the end. I'd been telling the truth until then."

"I'd expect you to say as much," E'Menua told him coldly. "You'll say anything now to save your life." He beckoned to the guards with a wave of his hand.

Immediately the two men strode forward, eager, it seemed, to exact revenge for the evils to which Besh had been forced to confess.

"Take their knives," E'Menua said, indicating Besh and Sirj. "I don't want them using their magic against us anymore. We'll keep them here for now. They're to remain in their z'kal." He looked at Grinsa. "And they're not to speak with anyone."

"Try to stop me from speaking to them," Grinsa said.

E'Menua glowered at him, but appeared to think better of challenging the man. "Fine," the a'laq said after a brief, uneasy silence. "No one else, though." He waved disdainfully at Grinsa and Cresenne. "Just these two."

"Yes, A'Laq," one of the warriors said, scowling at Grinsa.

E'Menua turned to Q'Daer. "You'll come with me."

He started away, not even bothering to look at Grinsa again. Q'Daer hesitated, staring first at Besh and Sirj, and then at the Forelander. After a moment he turned and fell in step behind the a'laq.

"In the z'kal," the first guard said, indicating the shelter with a wave of his spear.

"They're going to talk to us out here," Grinsa said, his voice seeming to grow more taut by the moment.