Ties of Power (Trade Pact Universe) Read Online Free Page B

so that his companion would not be lost completely, Morgan once more let his mind wander. Not back to the Fox, and his own marginal credit; rather, he returned to his practice, to playing a game that had begun almost a year ago.
    Premick, whose people had a trace of mental talent—his own sufficient to have led him to choose Morgan over other would-be trappers—acknowledged Morgan’s preoccupation with a resigned shrug and a roll of his eyes. The Human knew when to free himself of the extra burden of concentration. And his now-silent, graceful movements were not bad at all for an offworlder.
    The game. Morgan first dove deep within his mind, seeking the warm and golden place, the presence that was part of him yet had once been another’s. Ah. It was akin to being shocked, that initial sensation of contact reestablished. Then came the recognition of power, of mental abilities stretched far beyond what he had ever known before. But it was power without complete control—which was, after all, the purpose of the game. The game imposed by the powerful daughter of di Sarc without consultation or appeal. She called it survival.
    Morgan gave less of his conscious mind to his external surroundings, depending on Premick to warn him if he was needed to do more than follow quietly. At times, these stalks could lead them for hours down dark, mossy trails. More often than not, their quarry would elude them, though never because Premick lost the scent. So there was time to resume the game. A flash of power sent along a well-used pathway in that other place, the M’hir, would be enough. Morgan paused, ready—defenses in place, signal sent.
    But the almost instantaneous reply was not the mind-wrenching test Morgan had expected. Instead, words formed softly around his thoughts: Hello, Jason. I’ve been waiting for you.
    He hadn’t heard her mind voice for weeks, yet the exquisite balance of Sira’s mental strength was as familiar as his own. Past the faintest of barriers, all she ever truly held against him, emotions trickled through. Concern and, alarmingly, uncertainty.
    His own answer was swift. The game, and indeed the living forest around him were forgotten. What’s wrong, Sira? Are you all right?
    Warmth, sudden and rare, as quickly gone. Morgan fought the temptation to respond in kind, keeping his mind voice light and comfortable; he had learned to respect, if not enjoy, the distance Sira kept between them. We have company, Jason. An old friend has arrived. Come, please.
    Morgan stood still, then nodded, though she could not see the gesture. Sira would not call him out of the jungle for anything less than trouble, regardless of what she chose to reveal. He opened his eyes, surprised that he had closed them, to find Premick seated in a patient crouch, the flesh-crowned knobs of second knees at ear level, yellow-rimmed eyes steady and patient on his own.
    “I’ve been called. I must leave,” Morgan said simply.
    The being nodded, then went on, his tone curious but tentative, as if unsure with a topic they always had avoided: “You serve a strange mistress, Morgan-friend, who summons you home in the midst of a good hunt.”
    Morgan’s unusual blue eyes retained some of his power’s glow. Premick might have imagined a flash of something in those eyes that made him shiver. Yet Morgan’s voice was good humored. “You complain about my witch, Hunter?” the Human said, shifting his load of truffles to his other shoulder. “And what about your sisters? Are they not why you enjoy my company and hunt the poor nasar?” Amid mutual laughter that hid both regret and apology, the pair turned back toward their camp of two seasons, disappearing into the trees as easily as their reprieved prey.

Chapter 2
    THE harsh voice held no doubt and permitted none. “You will join with our Choice for you.”
    I was surrounded in darkness, so detached from my sense of self I was unsure if I stood or floated in that place. Despite my dread, I