Legends of Darkover

Chapter 21

-oOo-

-What does your tower know of this presence?- Qui-gon asked Catriona.  He had paused at the entrance of the temple and was scouting it with the Force. 

-Very little.  We suspect it to be the leftover consciousness of a man who died.  A matrix can still hold the emotions and thoughts of its owner after death, and the stronger the telepath, the more likely the stone will contain this echo.  It might be Sicul Alton, but we do not know for certain.  Alton is nonetheless a strong possibility.-

-What is the best way of dealing with him if he's still here?-

-Destroy his matrix.  His presence will be strongest at its location.-

Qui-gon stepped cautiously down the stairs, halting when he found the destruction of the veil.  The stones were still smoking.  The mystery of the ruins might have baffled another Jedi, but as Tyranus' former apprentice, Qui-gon recognized the signs of his old master's temper.  He stepped over the rubble and entered the corridor. 

It was like he was walking into a stiff wind.  He let himself drop into Force trance.  -A little trick I've learned,- he sent to Catriona.  He formed a knifelike point of Force energy ahead of him, and wrapped a wedge of the Force around himself.  He moved easily now, the dark presence losing its grip and sliding off the Force wedge like fingers clawing at glass.

-It's trying to force its way into our minds,- Catriona replied.  -We will shield you.-

Instantly, Qui-gon felt all sense of the presence fade.  However, this left him Force-blind to the location of its matrix.

-I will have to be your guide from here,- said Catriona. 

Qui-gon's lightsaber was his lamp, parting the darkness until its beam was swallowed by the immensity of a chamber.  A burst of Force made the mosaics jump out at him.  The room had been trashed.  Small flames were burning, and several shattered chests were lying nearby.  Then he overheard a voice speaking inside Catriona's mind and eavesdropped intently.

-So you've entered my lair, witch of Hali?-

-Name yourself, phantom,- Catriona retorted. 

-I am no phantom, but a living—man.-  The Voice hesitated at the word 'man,' as if not quite certain.

Catriona snorted.  -You are a trace of consciousness left inside a matrix.  You are no longer alive.- 

The Voice laughed.  -How little do those of Hali know.  I never died.  Those that become the disciples of Zandru do not die.-

In another room Inculcare heard the Voice's words at what seemed to be a very great distance.  He suspected Catriona was right, but stayed silent.

-Your kind have always kept away, before.  Do you know why, girl?  Did not the crones of your tower pass on their fears to you?  The legends of me?  The stories?  They never dared step inside my temple.  But unlike them, you have foolishly passed the threshold.  You have made yourself my servant, and my slave.-

-Nonsense!-

-Shall I prove it to you?- the Voice whispered. 

A trickle of disquiet crossed the link from Catriona into Qui-gon.  -Retreat and leave this threat to me,- the Jedi said to her.

-I can't!  You're injured, and you know less than I do!- 

From the other end, Inculcare interrupted the Voice.  -Can you kill her?-

-Of course.-  The Voice laughed, a crazy sound of throbbing violence.

-Can you capture her?-

The Voice halted.  -Why?-

-She would be a welcome tool in my hand.- 

-A welcome tool in your bed, you mean.  I can read your desire.  Such things do not matter to me, though I once--

The Voice fell silent, though Inculcare sensed heightened attention directed towards an ancient memory.  An image of a woman came, stripped naked and weeping.  -My Cassilda, won from Hastur.- 

Though incorporeal, the Voice recalled an echo of almost forgotten bodily sensation, the thrill of using another for mindless pleasure, of total control--

-Yes,- said the Voice.  -Her rape was the capstone of my triumph.-

Inculcare sent a silent question into the darkness. 

-Yes.  Step into me.  This is how we shall inaugurate it, we two.  My mind, and your body.  This is one of the ancient rituals of my servants, the melding of two beings sealed over the sacrifice of another.  We can join our powers while destroying hers.- 

  

The High Inquisitor shut his eyes and shook from a blast of energy.  He was flooded with the Dark Side, power brimming.  All hesitation dissolved under the thrill.  He'd never felt like this before. 

-Come to me,- the Voice called to Catriona.

Alarmed, Catriona sent a fast warning to Qui-gon. --My circle must fight him.  I have to drop the connection to you or we will injure you with the laran overload.  Guard yourself from his influence.-

Standing inside Hali's tower, she gripped the keeper's matrix hard.  She'd been fighting the pull constantly, but this time the drag became insupportable.  Catriona felt like she was being sucked through the pores of the stone walls.  “Give me all your strength, NOW!”  she called to her sisters.  The matrix in her hands blazed.  Then suddenly, the protective screens surrounding the circle lit up and overloaded, catching fire.  Marisa, who was monitoring, cried out, “the screens have been breached!”

Something dark flooded in, blacking out all light.  A vision of the Forbidden City came to all.  The scent of its destruction was still fresh--scorched metal, caustic chemical fires, and the sewage-rot smell of death overwhelmed every sense.  Briefly, they saw the ancient tower of Hali lying crushed. 

Catriona was stunned.  Hali's screens were the strongest on Darkover.  No breach should have been possible.  Something slipped in through the energon rings, prying microscopic holes with a thousand greedy tendrils.  The darkness wrapped around her whip-fast.  -Come to me,- it repeated.  She fought it with all her strength, but she was being dragged too hard, and all her strength, her matrix, and her circle were not enough.  Recognizing the nature of the teleportation energy blanketing her, she cried, “Drop out!” breaking the link to the rest of her circle to protect them.  She flung aside the great matrix in her hands, knowing she could not risk its capture, too.

-Come to me, my Cassilda.-

-oOo-

Qui-gon lost all contact with her mind when she dropped the link. 

The ceiling groaned.  He looked up.  With no warning the ceiling fell in on him, and the mosaics showered off the walls, the figures of Zandru toppling forwards to crush him. 

-oOo-

“What was that noise?” exclaimed Obi-wan.  “It came from outside the city.”

“Let me check,” said Regis.  He was almost wild with impatience, unable to stand inaction while Danilo was in danger.

“All right.  Go no farther than the walls.”

Regis tore off in the direction of the ring-wall.  In a minute he climbed through a gap, and he halted to gaze down the slope in the direction of Lake Hali.  The landscape had changed  dramatically. 

-Obi-wan?  I see Qui-gon kneeling by the edge of—a crater?- 

Briefly, Hastur flashed a mental picture to the apprentice.  That crater certainly hadn't been there before.

-Are you hurt?- Regis' mental voice called to the Jedi Master. 

-No,- Qui-gon replied.  -A ceiling dropped on me, but I applied the lessons of my apprentice, and Folded Space to the surface.  Try to find Catriona with your laran.  I was severed from her, and I think she's in danger.-

Regis' mind darted away to contact the tower.

Qui-gon gazed downwards at the crumbled earth, at the sods of grass and pebbles scattered over the floor of the chamber.  The cloud of dirt was still settling, and he could see specks of color here and there from the crushed mosaic-sticks. 

-The tower is in chaos,- Regis replied.  -They said Catriona was torn away from them, and they cannot find where she has gone.-

Immediately, Qui-gon Force-jumped down into the crater, looking for an opening in the walls.

-oOo-

A pit, a ledge, a nearby fire—lit for the first time in a thousand years, burning with no visible fuel--and the High Inquisitor were the sights that greeted Catriona when she recovered.  She was lying on her back.  The front of her dress was open to her navel, cold air gliding over her exposed breasts, and the silk bag holding her matrix was gone.  She sat up quickly, drawing cloth together, and froze. 

Inculcare was holding her personal matrix in two gloved hands.  

She ought to be screaming, mad, dead.  But she felt none of the agonizing scouring of the nerves that such an action ought to produce.  Only a trained keeper could hold another's matrix with safety, and Inculcare wasn't a keeper, or even a Darkovan telepath. 

“How?” she blurted.

Inculcare did not speak.  He stepped away from her and placed the matrix inside an ornate stone chalice.  She flew to her feet, and saw the dark no-light of the black jewels set around the rim of the bowl, a ring of trap matrices joined together in concert, with her own stone in the center.  She lunged forwards to seize the stone, and found herself halted. 

“Do not,” said Inculcare. 

Catriona's heart was beating hard, and she stared at her hand.  There had been no invisible grip around her wrist, or impediment in the air.  She had stopped her own motion herself.

-You are now completely within the power of the trap. Your laran is no longer yours.-

“You're using the Alton dona,” she said. 

“Correct, my pupil.”  The tone was light, almost joking. 

Catriona's eyes widened.  Inculcare stepped in front of her and began to work the dress she wore upwards, pulling it slowly, gather by gather, over her hips.  She felt the dank air climb up, goosefleshing her thighs with dread.  She couldn't move, couldn't shove him away.  The awfulness sank into her bones.  She began to shake with fear as his gloved fingers crept over her hips and moved behind, sliding under and gripping her buttocks, kneading the flesh with coarse, hard motions. 

-Come to me, my Cassilda.- 

Catriona looked at him in shock.  That was the voice of a madman.  The blessed Cassilda was a God, not a mortal Darkovan woman.

“No!”          

-Contribute her then, since she has refused.-

The motions of Inculcare's hands stopped.  His eyes went to the pit behind Catriona's shoulder.  With no warning, he shoved her backwards.  She landed on her back, sprawling, but with her arms and legs under her own control.  The High Inquisitor threw himself on her as she tried to roll away.  She could feel the pit just behind her head as she tried to shove him off.

-Contribute her.-

“Well,” said Inculcare.  “I suppose you've heard.”  He grunted as he wiggled her closer and closer to the edge.  Though she was trying to flip him over, Inculcare had too much experience in Jedi wrestling.  “I've been told to toss you in.  I can't vouch for what's in that pit, but it's probably--

She bit his face, drawing blood.  His forearm rammed into her throat and shoved her chin back.  She choked from the blow, and the torturous twist in her neck. “Don't do that again,” he said with cold force.  “Little bitch,” he added casually.  “So, it looks like I'll have to drop you in.”  He bit her shoulder, working the bite downwards to her left breast.  “Unless you have a change of heart,” he said, coming up for air, panting.

“Are you mad?!” she yelled.

With no warning he flipped her over on her face, and she screamed, feeling nothing but air before her.  She was hanging half-over the side of the pit.  They both were.  Inculcare lay across her back, and one of her arms was twisted behind her, locked in his grip.  “Look down,” he said into her ear.  Cold air blew into her face.

For a moment, both stopped struggling.  “It's a long fall, and rocks will strike you hard.”  He took off one of his gloves with his teeth.  Catriona did not respond when she felt metal move into the front of her robe, her eyes staring into the pit, her free hand scrabbling  futilely at the smooth side, trying to lever herself away.  She sucked in her breath when a span of sharp knifelike points raked across her breasts.  Then she looked down and screamed.  The metal hand slid up her throat, over her chin and up to her cheek.  It crossed over the bridge of her nose, over eyes she frantically shut to protect them from the sharp claws.  He grabbed her chin painfully, and twisted her face towards his.  “It's a long fall,” he repeated.  “But I can be more cruel than any fall.  I don't like to hear 'no.'  Coaxing a 'yes' is my speciality.  I WILL drop you, Catriona, if you don't give in.”

“No,” she cried wildly. 

He rolled them both away.  “Maybe you need a little more time for your decision.  Let's make your helplessness more apparent to you.”  He let go and stood up in front of her.  “I command you to release me.”

“What?” she said, trying not to understand.  But her hands did.  They moved by themselves, going to his waist.  There were closures in the front of his trousers, and her fingers found them, undoing them.  Catriona looked away when she had his clothes open.  The fight had thoroughly aroused him.

“You've never seen sights like this before?” said Inculcare.  “I promise, you can become quite used to it.  Give me your face.”  His human hand turned her chin again.  “You know what you need to do.” 

The metal hand suddenly dropped off his arm.  She gasped.  The hand moved on its own, creeping like a spider.  She shook, watching it walk under her dress, feeling it jerk and poke between legs she could not draw together to keep it out.  It gripped a fold of skin painfully in its claws, and lifted itself up.



That particular part of Inculcare was just in front of her face, fully risen now.  “Let's begin,” he said in a low voice.  “My hand can work inside you, and nest there quite happily.  It can climb into your very womb, working its way upwards.  Its claws can--

Something insect-like snapped against her skin, and she froze.  A sharp point had stabbed her flesh.  “At my command, it will start its work.  Save yourself, Catriona, from an ugly death.  Do the intelligent thing.” 

She had no way out, and knew it.  She would lose her laran again if she acquiesced.  But was there even death at the bottom of the pit?  With Sicul Alton, she might suffer worse than death. 

“Let me teach you, my shy child, exactly what I like.  Don't flinch.  My body is only skin for you to taste.  For now, I let you take over.  You need to learn to be bold in one thing.  Do this under your own will, my pupil.”

There was a long, horrible hesitation while she weighed her options.  She knew what Inculcare was capable of.  She tried for one frantic moment to find Qui-gon, and felt the tight block around her mind.  Her only choices were Alton's pit, or this.  Maybe there was little difference—except delay.  Delay of any sort might mean a rescue.  Qui-gon knew something was wrong.  He had to be near.

She mustered all her will to steady herself—and slowly, hesitantly, took him in her mouth. 

He held perfectly still, and felt the small motions of her lips, feeling her disgust and horror as she tried not to close around him, her breath coming in little sobs that only roused him further.  “Breathe over me.  Now taste the tip,” he whispered.  “The little slit.  Tongue me.  Now the underside,  yes.  Don't hurry.  Again and again.  Move around in a circle.  Sob for me.  Your despair feels so good.”  He was beginning to breathe frantically himself.  “Unbutton your dress the rest of the way.  Display yourself to me.  No, don't just part it, slide the dress off your shoulders.”

The heavy material fell to her thighs, and the cold sensation of her nudity sickened her.  She shut her eyes.  Inculcare laughed, and ran human fingers through her hair.  “You hope the Jedi will save you?  Just think of Qui-gon walking in right now.  He wouldn't know what to think of your whorishness.

“Lift your hands to your breasts.  Your nipples and areolas are large, let your fingers discover them, feel them with your fingertips, roll and stroke them.  Yes, like that.”  With a sudden motion, he shoved the back of her head in close to him, feeling her gag on his length.  “You've made me too keyed up from our little fight.”  He thrust a time or two, choking her again.  “This won't last.  Undo the rest of your buttons.  Yes.”

-Blessed Cassilda.  You do this willingly, exactly like last time.-

“Part your legs.  Stroke me with your hands,” said Inculcare with growing urgency.  He felt her trembling fingers on himself, and it was too much.  He shoved her backwards, paused to let his metal hand reattach itself to his wrist, and buried two of the long claws inside her with no warning.  Her shocked intake of breath pleased him no end.  “Reach down, and feel yourself.  What?  Your hand doesn't move?  You've never done this before?”  He took her hand in his, and placed two of her fingers exactly where he wanted them.  “Now, please yourself, or I release my claws.  I want to see the signs that you're growing eager.  A woman's moisture cannot lie.”

It seemed to take a long time.  Inculcare's eyes stared intently, watching the humiliating movements.  Abruptly, he judged her far enough along, and slid the metal hand out and replaced it with his own flesh, cursing.  His teeth bit her neck and face with painful bites as he thrust.  She felt his release inside her, and cursed with him. 

When he withdrew, he smiled, and shifted his body upwards until he sat on her breasts.  “Clean me up.  You know how.  No, don't use your hands.  Lick me.”

With disgust, she had to force her head up at a neckstraining angle to do the work. 

“Now dry me off with your pretty hair.  Yes, that's the way.   Call me by my proper title.  You know what it is.”

“Master Inculcare,” she said, half-strangled. 

-You are different.  You did not weep and beg.  What has changed?  Why are you different?  I did not even have to hold Hastur's life over you to part your legs, Cassilda.- 

-oOo-