The Grey Tower

The Gateway opened, and Dax strode through without a backward glance. The ko’di surrounded him in merciful emptiness and pushing his awareness of the stranger who owned him away. In a way, he supposed he had to be grateful to the dark-haired Malina. She had taught him what no else could: how to turn his thoughts off. Without that training, he would not have survived his bout with Riahana.

He exited the Traveling Yards and followed the inexorable call of the bond. Into the Grey Tower it dragged him, up, and up, and up, until he stood outside the doors to the M’hael’s office. He glanced around then, uneasiness gripping him. Before he could make an effort to turn away, the door opened.

“Walk with me, Dakson Gaidin,” Jaryd Kosari said, nodding down the length of the hall. “We have much to discuss, you and I.”

Dax bowed to cover his shock. “As you say, Asha’man,” he said through gritted teeth.

Jaryd examined the knot of emotions in his head as they walked. The difference between this bond and the one had shared with Carra had become more marked, now they stood side by side. With Carra, he had known he maintained the upper hand, even if he had never used the ability. With Dax...Jaryd thought perhaps the man had a chance of overwhelming his control by sheer force of will. Is it Dax himself, the way Katrie wove the bond, or the fact that we are both men?

The vibrance made it easy to pick out the Tairen’s state of mind, especially unhindered by emotional attachment. Rage. Fear. Anxiety. Pain, though nothing unmanageable. Beneath that, a deeper anger, the kind that had been boiling for years untouched, and grief that tore at Jaryd’s heart just to behold. What happened to you when you were a child? Has anyone ever bothered to ask?

The Gaidin remained stonily silent. Finally Jaryd opened a door and led them into a small sitting room, closing the door quietly behind them. Spirit and Air flowed around every wall, across the ceiling, and across the floor, guaranteeing their privacy.

“I apologize for taking your bond without your permission,” he said calmly, settling with his back against the wall near the door. “Katrie told me she had made you a promise she could not keep.” When he spoke the Accepted’s name, that bundle of emotions...changed. All Dax’s emotions remained as they had been, but abruptly lines of gold laced through the chaotic mess, pulsing gently. Well that’s an interesting turn of events. “She gave me your bond so I could help her keep that oath.” The light grew.

Dax sat on a chair in a classroom, watching Jaryd pace.

He had been back at the Tower for eight days, and in that time he had not yet left the Asha’man’s side. His anger at being treated like a parcel had faded a little, but his mind could not quite cope with the wiry Altaran’s quicksilver mood shifts that made even Katrie look sedate. How in the Light did this man survive as M’hael?

As far as the Gaidin knew, no one else in the Tower knew of their bond. The Red seemed far more interested in fulfilling Katrie’s oath than he did in enacting any sort of vengeful penance for their illicit activities. “Why would I?” he responded, when Dax finally asked. “I can feel your distress, and I could see hers. What could the Tower’s justice teach you that you do not already know?” Shocked by the man’s unexpected empathy, Dax kept his own counsel from that point on.

Abruptly his new bondmate approached him. “How many times have I tried now?” he asked, a humorous sparkle in his black eyes.

“Two hundred and thirty seven,” Dax responded flippantly, waving his fingers.

“Just so. This may sting.” Jaryd placed long fingers on either side of Dax’s face, his dark eyes boring into him. The Gaidin something cool flow through his consciousness, similar to Healing,and yet….not. He had had many similar experiences since Jaryd had begun his experimentation, and it no longer bothered him as much as it might have. The cool feeling slipped and wound, probing, until abruptly it stopped, and Jaryd stepped away. Dax opened his eyes, and looked to the Asha’man inquisitively.

The dark man was staring at him, rubbing at his chin. “Yes,” the channeler said finally, “I think that will do.” Dax frowned suspiciously, but Jaryd ignored him, eyes staring into the distance at whatever he was working on.

“I am going to remove this bond,” he said. “When I do, you will be free to do- whatever you like. You can stay at the Tower to train, go back to your old ways, even bond another. It is entirely up to you- I will not hinder you.” Dax stared at him in shock, unbridled hope rolling through his mind. It could not be. The Keeper could not possibly have picked apart that bond so quickly. Could he?

Jaryd wasn’t done. “I would caution you to stay away from Katrie, but I feel it would be foolish to set such an expectation under the circumstances.” Abruptly the man’s full attention lay on Dax. “It is obvious you love her,” the Asha’man said quietly. “I can see it in your eyes, feel it through this bond, hear it in your voice when you speak her name.”

Dax scowled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Love? Dakson Torellion did not love. Men died for love...he had no time for such.

The man shook his curly head. “Denial will not carry you far, Dakson- and neither will love, if you do not have a care.” Those dark eyes cut through him again. “Katrie is much like the daughter I never had,” the Altaran said softly. “If you hurt her, I will hurt you.”

Dax met his eyes, stare for stare, as the silence stretched between them. He had no idea what to say, but something told him if he did not do the right thing in that moment, he might not leave the room alive. Finally Jaryd nodded, apparently satisfied by something Dax could not comprehend. “I have a gift for you, before I set you free.” He reached behind his neck, and when he pulled his hands away again, he held a black stone strung onto a gold chain. He stared at it for a long moment, then pressed it into Dax’s left hand. “Give this to Katrie when the time seems right,” Jaryd said. “It is very dear to her.”

Then the Asha’man’s fingers touched the Gaidin’s forehead again. When at last the chill waves of the One Power abated, Dax sat alone, both his head and the room around him empty of any other presence. Several long minutes passed before he finally moved. He rubbed his temple with the fingers of his right hand as he felt around inside of his mind. Nothing. He had expected to feel joy, or peace, or satisfaction...but the emptiness ate at him.

After a time, he reached into his pocket and produced a small cloth, which he wrapped around the necklace Jaryd had given him with fingers that visibly shook. Free. I’m free. He tucked the small packet into his pocket, and pushed himself to his feet.

What does ‘free’ actually mean, anyway?