![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalinara posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
i_read_whatSo last time, we learned that the Ihlini concept of duress = consent contains a few blind spots. Mainly that someone who consents under duress might actually be, you know, LYING.
So we rejoin the boys as Colin starts leading them down a corridor. It's lit by pure, yellow flame, not Ihlini godfire but... Hart, accustomed to little light, and Brennan, accustomed to none, found discomfort in the illumination. They squinted, avoiding the pools of light; Corin's nearly pupilless eyes remained wide and strangely unfocused."
I'm feeling like none of these boys are really okay right now.
Brennan's still a bit touchy, pointing out that he's not going anywhere without Sleeta. I'm honestly not sure if we're supposed to see him as being disagreeable or not here. Because well, we've had five books tell us how vital a lir is to a Cheysuli. But anyway, Corin doesn't expect him to. He's actually leading them to Sleeta and the exit.
"Would you suggest we depart through the front entrance?" Corin's tone was dryly disgusted. "Valgaard is a maze of tunnels and corridors, as well as secret exits. But I only know of one; I am newly come to the god, and Strahan does not tell me everything as yet." He looked at them more closely and saw doubt in grimy faces. "Oh, aye, I know—now you are uncertain. Well, the choice is yours. Come with me, or stay." Corin turned and went on as Kiri trotted beside him.
Hart swore. Brennan sighed and shook his head. And then he shrugged and pushed off the wall, muttering resigned imprecations.
Again, Corin, your brothers have had it kind of rough for a WHILE. The impatience is understandable, but you could be a little more tolerant.
Hart points out that Kiri is with Corin, which she wouldn't be if he intended to betray them. Which reminds me of something I'd wondered about before: CAN a lir repudiate a Cheysuli? Brennan just points out that with the lir-bond obscured by Ihlini magic, he could be tricking her too.
"He is not the Corin we knew. Who can say what he will do?"
They turned a corner and came up on him as he waited in the shadows. Lir-gold gleamed in tawny hair; armbands were hidden beneath sleeves of a dark gray doublet.
"What I will do," Corin said distinctly, "is take you out of here."
Corin definitely has figured out the Ihlini sense of timing.
He opens a passageway, causing cold air to rush in and extinguish their torch. Suddenly being in a closed dark passage is not really great for a pre-traumatized claustrophobe, but Hart puts a hand on his shoulder, aw.
So Corin leads them to the Gate, itself. Which is not terribly reassuring. He does at least intend to go with them.
As one, his brothers backed away from the lip of the Gate. Corin stepped closer. "It is your only chance."
"Ours—all of us?" Brennan's eyes narrowed. "Or only Hart and me?"
Corin frowned. "I am coming with you. Do you think I would dare remain?"
Fair point. And it occurs to me that Brennan's distrust here might be less about Aileen and more the inability to comprehend swearing an oath you don't intend to keep. He's honorable, forthright and empathetic, but he's not really imaginative. Also, well, torture and trauma DO tend to make one a little less likely to trust.
And indeed, he starts to balk. But that's when Strahan decides to make an entrance:
No," Brennan said. "I will forgo that exit."
"Then why not try this one?"
As one, they spun in place. Strahan stepped out of basalt. Godfire edged his robe of deepest black. The silver on his brow glowed lilac-white in the glare of the Gate.
Behind him was only shadow; no exit could be seen.
Per Strahan, SLeeta's behind the stone. Brennan thinks it's a trap. This is not particularly helped by Corin dropping to his knees in "perfect homage".
Dun dun dun...
The Ihlini nodded slowly and put an approving hand on the tawny hair. "Well done, Corin. You have done as you said you would."
Corin turned his face up to Strahan. "And you have done as I hoped—" He lunged upward, off his knees, locking both arms around Strahan and pinning the sorcerer's arms. Even as Strahan twisted, Corin thrust out a foot to trip Strahan and tumble him into the Gate.
Flame gushed up. Strahan screamed something, and then the voice was silenced.
NICELY DONE.
So Corin yells at them all to go, and runs through the glassy wall. Hart follows immediately. Brennan...
Brennan took a step after him, then stopped. He recalled too clearly the power that had reduced him to obsolescence. He recalled too clearly the fear that had engulfed him.
He shivered. Sweat broke out on his flesh.
And then the Gate disgorged the Ihlini, blazing like a pyre, and Brennan did not look back.
There was a seam, he saw at once. A fault in the stone, or else something cut by god or man. The naked eye could not see it, but the hand felt its gap. He slipped through and departed the cavern even as Strahan shouted.
Claustrophobia sucks but Strahan sucks more. That said, there still a lot of dark, winding passages ahead. Poor guy.
That said, Brennan's hesitation was useful. He knows, for sure, that Strahan's still alive. A fact that freaks Corin out when they all end up together. Sleeta is actually there too! Yay!
Cheysuli and lir spilled out of basalt into the bailey, footsteps echoing on cobbles. All around them was darkness and the breath of Asar-Suti. Stars were but a dim glow through the veil of malodorous smoke.
I really like that bit of description.
So they all run for it. But there's a problem:
Stone shifted beneath their feet. It burst from under boots and threw them to the ground. Once, twice, thrice; each time they lost more distance. Some stone melted, clinging to their boots- Other cobbles exploded around them and rained down as smoking missiles.
Yikes. Hart falls. Brennan drags him up. Corin gets the gate open. Teamwork! Which is good, because Strahan's trying to use his fortress itself to stop them. It's pretty intense:
They ran. Staggered. Tripped. Got up and ran again, cursing the pockets of shadow that reached out to catch their boots. Cauldrons gurgled, fumaroles splattered, smoke issued forth from vents. It coated flesh, clogged throats, filled eyes with irritation. Coughing, wheezing, gagging, they stumbled through crumbling crusts and tripped over the spine of the earth itself, wrenched free of flesh and muscle. The viscera was foul.
Shadows loomed. Darkness incarnate, stretching across the ground. And then the rules were changed.
Unexpectedly, there was movement in addition to their own. They snatched hurried glances out of the comers of reddening eyes, and then the eyes abruptly widened. The field was a grotesque boardgame made by the god himself, and the pieces were alive.
Yep, this is pretty fucking scary. They have some warning of what to expect thanks to Niall's experience - and I do love how these characters do share their bad experiences with the younger generation. As traumatic as they are - when you're dealing with an enemy who will live to plague your children, it's better that your children have some warning than none at all.
Even if it didn't do much to protect these boys.
There's more obstacles and peril and the boys work together to save each other and it's pretty great until...
Corin twisted away, feeling the touch of ensorcelled stone as a wing cruelly caressed his scalp. He saw his brothers waiting, both poised to flee again. But their unwillingness to leave him renewed his fading strength.
"—coming—" he gasped, and ran.
And then, abruptly, could not.
He fell hard. Tried to rise. And then knew what Strahan had done.
"My legs!" he cried. "My legs—“
Jelly, Strahan had threatened. As Corin lay sprawled on hot stone, trying in vain to rise, he knew the healing had been recalled.
Corin, if you recall, hasn't actually been in Strahan's captivity long. That probably helped him keep a clearer head while both brothers are reacting to various intense traumas. That said, Corin just, very recently, took a nose dive off a cliff.
So yeah, this is bad.
There was no tremendous uprush of pain, no snapping of brittle bones, merely a return to what they had been before he had committed himself to the god. Nearly healed, but not completely; it left his bones fragile and his muscles weakened by confinement in splints and linens.
Kiri licked at his face. A cool nose nudged his neck and urged him desperately to rise. And then Hart and Brennan were lifting him, dragging him, as the world caught fire around them.
"—not so far—" Hart gasped, wrenching one-handed Corin's left arm across his shoulders.
"We will steal you from him yet." Brennan told Corin firmly.
Aww.
So they keep going, making it into a steam choked defile. They see white wings on the other side: Rael. He'd never left. Aww.
But there's a problem. Corin's not just suffering cliff-damage enymore:
Almost immediately he tried to crawl away from them, heading unerringly for the defile.
"Corin—wait—' Hart caught an arm and was shocked at the rigidity of sinew beneath the flesh. "Corin—"
"—go back—" Corin gasped, "—go back—the Seker—"
More roughly than they intended, his brothers dragged him back and forced him into place.
"Look at his eyes," Brennan said.
Hart shook his head as he saw the shrunken pupils.
So...this might be why so few people try what Corin pulled. When you drink a god's liquor while swearing an oath, even one you didn't mean...that has some very bad consequences. And Corin's feeling it now.
Fortunately, he has two brothers to drag him away. And eventually, eventually, the lir bonds kick back into place. Hart's reunion with Rael is pretty heartwrenching.
Even as his twin knelt to grasp Sleeta against his chest, Hart rose. He moved away from his brothers, clearing the tangle of arms and legs and lir, and thrust both arms into the air. From out of the darkness came the white hawk he called Rael.
Lir—lir—oh, gods. Rael— Hart discovered an uncommon incoherence, even within the link. Rael—Rael—Rael—
Shansu, the hawk soothed. Shansu, my lir . . . my proud, brave warrior.
Do you see? Do you see? Hart appealed. The Ihiini has ruined me—
Rael soared closer yet. I see strength and pride and an unrelenting determination to withstand the arts of Asar-Suti.
Aww.
Brennan's reunion with Sleeta is quieter and more sensory:
On the ground, Brennan's arms were filled with cat.
Bare flesh felt the dry texture of her pelt, fingers touched protuding ribs beneath taut flesh, eyes sought the truth in her own.
Sleeta, he began, intending to question her, and then put away words to lose himself in the renewal of the link.
There was no need to ask her anything, all was present for him to discern through the thing that bound them. He knew fear and pain, anguish and anger, the pride that made her so strong.
All is well, she said. All is well, lir.
She was heavy, so heavy, though lacking her normal weight. Gently, she set her teeth against cheek and jaw and nibbled, more catlike than was common. One huge paw patted a thigh, the other kneaded a hip.
Corin's...
On the ground, Corin writhed. His bones were alive with fire.
Lir, Kiri said, try harder to overcome it.
He thrashed, and his legs spasmed. The Seker—he said. The Gate…
Think of me instead.
—burning— In the link, he felt her strength. Gods, Kiri—it burns— He hitched himself up on one arm, meaning to reach for her. Without warning, he vomited.
This gets the other boys' attention.
"We are too close," Hart said anxiously.
"Then send Rael to seek out safety, some place we can settle him until this crisis passes." Brennan's tone was sharp. "There is no opportunity for us to heal him until we have found proper refuge."
Corin's illness is making him quite vocal right now:
Corin's breathing was labored. "I thought if I made myself vomit the blood ... I could win . . . could overcome the power—" He grimaced from unseen pain, baring teeth shut tightly. "Strahan wanted you so badly . . . I thought if I acted like he had won, if I tricked him, I could find a means to escape—" His head thrashed against the earth until Brennan trapped it and held it still. "I knew if I drank again, I would be truly lost—" Teeth bit into bottom lip. "I needed to know a way out ... I let him think he had won, so he would show me—show me a hidden exit—" He spasmed. "Oh, gods, it hurts!"
"Hold your silence," Brennan told him gently, "There will be time for this later."
Corin's eyes were transfixed on Brennan's face. "But—you have to know ... I do love Aileen!" His mouth warped into a rigid rictus of pain. "I do want her, Brennan . . . Strahan found my weakness."
"And uncovered your strength." Brennan's face was stark, though his tone reflected none of it. "There are things all of us want. Corin, even against our wills. Much of Strahan's power is that which we give him ... he lets us make our own guilt, instead of forcing it on us."
"And I did want the Lion. .. long as I can remember—"
"Corin." Brennan bent close. "I swear, it does not matter. Do you think I could hate you for it after what you have done for us?"
Aww.
But the timing is bad. Corin's starting to fade. But that's when a familiar face appears!
Brennan looked up quickly. And then gaped in astonishment. “jehan—?".
Nope! Hart figures it out first: it's Carollan! Who lives in Solinde. Really, unwisely, close to Valgaard.
Carollan approached at a jog. He was, like their father, a big man, tall and strongly built, though now age stole flexibility and fluidity of movement. His hair was gray, bound back into a clubbed braid. Unlike Niall, he still had two eyes of unwavering blue. Both were fixed on Corin.
Carollan was thirty six in Track of the White Wolf. He should have been thirty-nine, but we'll let that go. That means, twenty-ish years later, he's fifty six. But he's still very strong. Strong enough to carry a delirious Corin (who asks if Strahan had given his father back his eye) to safety. Brennan and Hart follow.
The chapter ends here.
So we rejoin the boys as Colin starts leading them down a corridor. It's lit by pure, yellow flame, not Ihlini godfire but... Hart, accustomed to little light, and Brennan, accustomed to none, found discomfort in the illumination. They squinted, avoiding the pools of light; Corin's nearly pupilless eyes remained wide and strangely unfocused."
I'm feeling like none of these boys are really okay right now.
Brennan's still a bit touchy, pointing out that he's not going anywhere without Sleeta. I'm honestly not sure if we're supposed to see him as being disagreeable or not here. Because well, we've had five books tell us how vital a lir is to a Cheysuli. But anyway, Corin doesn't expect him to. He's actually leading them to Sleeta and the exit.
"Would you suggest we depart through the front entrance?" Corin's tone was dryly disgusted. "Valgaard is a maze of tunnels and corridors, as well as secret exits. But I only know of one; I am newly come to the god, and Strahan does not tell me everything as yet." He looked at them more closely and saw doubt in grimy faces. "Oh, aye, I know—now you are uncertain. Well, the choice is yours. Come with me, or stay." Corin turned and went on as Kiri trotted beside him.
Hart swore. Brennan sighed and shook his head. And then he shrugged and pushed off the wall, muttering resigned imprecations.
Again, Corin, your brothers have had it kind of rough for a WHILE. The impatience is understandable, but you could be a little more tolerant.
Hart points out that Kiri is with Corin, which she wouldn't be if he intended to betray them. Which reminds me of something I'd wondered about before: CAN a lir repudiate a Cheysuli? Brennan just points out that with the lir-bond obscured by Ihlini magic, he could be tricking her too.
"He is not the Corin we knew. Who can say what he will do?"
They turned a corner and came up on him as he waited in the shadows. Lir-gold gleamed in tawny hair; armbands were hidden beneath sleeves of a dark gray doublet.
"What I will do," Corin said distinctly, "is take you out of here."
Corin definitely has figured out the Ihlini sense of timing.
He opens a passageway, causing cold air to rush in and extinguish their torch. Suddenly being in a closed dark passage is not really great for a pre-traumatized claustrophobe, but Hart puts a hand on his shoulder, aw.
So Corin leads them to the Gate, itself. Which is not terribly reassuring. He does at least intend to go with them.
As one, his brothers backed away from the lip of the Gate. Corin stepped closer. "It is your only chance."
"Ours—all of us?" Brennan's eyes narrowed. "Or only Hart and me?"
Corin frowned. "I am coming with you. Do you think I would dare remain?"
Fair point. And it occurs to me that Brennan's distrust here might be less about Aileen and more the inability to comprehend swearing an oath you don't intend to keep. He's honorable, forthright and empathetic, but he's not really imaginative. Also, well, torture and trauma DO tend to make one a little less likely to trust.
And indeed, he starts to balk. But that's when Strahan decides to make an entrance:
No," Brennan said. "I will forgo that exit."
"Then why not try this one?"
As one, they spun in place. Strahan stepped out of basalt. Godfire edged his robe of deepest black. The silver on his brow glowed lilac-white in the glare of the Gate.
Behind him was only shadow; no exit could be seen.
Per Strahan, SLeeta's behind the stone. Brennan thinks it's a trap. This is not particularly helped by Corin dropping to his knees in "perfect homage".
Dun dun dun...
The Ihlini nodded slowly and put an approving hand on the tawny hair. "Well done, Corin. You have done as you said you would."
Corin turned his face up to Strahan. "And you have done as I hoped—" He lunged upward, off his knees, locking both arms around Strahan and pinning the sorcerer's arms. Even as Strahan twisted, Corin thrust out a foot to trip Strahan and tumble him into the Gate.
Flame gushed up. Strahan screamed something, and then the voice was silenced.
NICELY DONE.
So Corin yells at them all to go, and runs through the glassy wall. Hart follows immediately. Brennan...
Brennan took a step after him, then stopped. He recalled too clearly the power that had reduced him to obsolescence. He recalled too clearly the fear that had engulfed him.
He shivered. Sweat broke out on his flesh.
And then the Gate disgorged the Ihlini, blazing like a pyre, and Brennan did not look back.
There was a seam, he saw at once. A fault in the stone, or else something cut by god or man. The naked eye could not see it, but the hand felt its gap. He slipped through and departed the cavern even as Strahan shouted.
Claustrophobia sucks but Strahan sucks more. That said, there still a lot of dark, winding passages ahead. Poor guy.
That said, Brennan's hesitation was useful. He knows, for sure, that Strahan's still alive. A fact that freaks Corin out when they all end up together. Sleeta is actually there too! Yay!
Cheysuli and lir spilled out of basalt into the bailey, footsteps echoing on cobbles. All around them was darkness and the breath of Asar-Suti. Stars were but a dim glow through the veil of malodorous smoke.
I really like that bit of description.
So they all run for it. But there's a problem:
Stone shifted beneath their feet. It burst from under boots and threw them to the ground. Once, twice, thrice; each time they lost more distance. Some stone melted, clinging to their boots- Other cobbles exploded around them and rained down as smoking missiles.
Yikes. Hart falls. Brennan drags him up. Corin gets the gate open. Teamwork! Which is good, because Strahan's trying to use his fortress itself to stop them. It's pretty intense:
They ran. Staggered. Tripped. Got up and ran again, cursing the pockets of shadow that reached out to catch their boots. Cauldrons gurgled, fumaroles splattered, smoke issued forth from vents. It coated flesh, clogged throats, filled eyes with irritation. Coughing, wheezing, gagging, they stumbled through crumbling crusts and tripped over the spine of the earth itself, wrenched free of flesh and muscle. The viscera was foul.
Shadows loomed. Darkness incarnate, stretching across the ground. And then the rules were changed.
Unexpectedly, there was movement in addition to their own. They snatched hurried glances out of the comers of reddening eyes, and then the eyes abruptly widened. The field was a grotesque boardgame made by the god himself, and the pieces were alive.
Yep, this is pretty fucking scary. They have some warning of what to expect thanks to Niall's experience - and I do love how these characters do share their bad experiences with the younger generation. As traumatic as they are - when you're dealing with an enemy who will live to plague your children, it's better that your children have some warning than none at all.
Even if it didn't do much to protect these boys.
There's more obstacles and peril and the boys work together to save each other and it's pretty great until...
Corin twisted away, feeling the touch of ensorcelled stone as a wing cruelly caressed his scalp. He saw his brothers waiting, both poised to flee again. But their unwillingness to leave him renewed his fading strength.
"—coming—" he gasped, and ran.
And then, abruptly, could not.
He fell hard. Tried to rise. And then knew what Strahan had done.
"My legs!" he cried. "My legs—“
Jelly, Strahan had threatened. As Corin lay sprawled on hot stone, trying in vain to rise, he knew the healing had been recalled.
Corin, if you recall, hasn't actually been in Strahan's captivity long. That probably helped him keep a clearer head while both brothers are reacting to various intense traumas. That said, Corin just, very recently, took a nose dive off a cliff.
So yeah, this is bad.
There was no tremendous uprush of pain, no snapping of brittle bones, merely a return to what they had been before he had committed himself to the god. Nearly healed, but not completely; it left his bones fragile and his muscles weakened by confinement in splints and linens.
Kiri licked at his face. A cool nose nudged his neck and urged him desperately to rise. And then Hart and Brennan were lifting him, dragging him, as the world caught fire around them.
"—not so far—" Hart gasped, wrenching one-handed Corin's left arm across his shoulders.
"We will steal you from him yet." Brennan told Corin firmly.
Aww.
So they keep going, making it into a steam choked defile. They see white wings on the other side: Rael. He'd never left. Aww.
But there's a problem. Corin's not just suffering cliff-damage enymore:
Almost immediately he tried to crawl away from them, heading unerringly for the defile.
"Corin—wait—' Hart caught an arm and was shocked at the rigidity of sinew beneath the flesh. "Corin—"
"—go back—" Corin gasped, "—go back—the Seker—"
More roughly than they intended, his brothers dragged him back and forced him into place.
"Look at his eyes," Brennan said.
Hart shook his head as he saw the shrunken pupils.
So...this might be why so few people try what Corin pulled. When you drink a god's liquor while swearing an oath, even one you didn't mean...that has some very bad consequences. And Corin's feeling it now.
Fortunately, he has two brothers to drag him away. And eventually, eventually, the lir bonds kick back into place. Hart's reunion with Rael is pretty heartwrenching.
Even as his twin knelt to grasp Sleeta against his chest, Hart rose. He moved away from his brothers, clearing the tangle of arms and legs and lir, and thrust both arms into the air. From out of the darkness came the white hawk he called Rael.
Lir—lir—oh, gods. Rael— Hart discovered an uncommon incoherence, even within the link. Rael—Rael—Rael—
Shansu, the hawk soothed. Shansu, my lir . . . my proud, brave warrior.
Do you see? Do you see? Hart appealed. The Ihiini has ruined me—
Rael soared closer yet. I see strength and pride and an unrelenting determination to withstand the arts of Asar-Suti.
Aww.
Brennan's reunion with Sleeta is quieter and more sensory:
On the ground, Brennan's arms were filled with cat.
Bare flesh felt the dry texture of her pelt, fingers touched protuding ribs beneath taut flesh, eyes sought the truth in her own.
Sleeta, he began, intending to question her, and then put away words to lose himself in the renewal of the link.
There was no need to ask her anything, all was present for him to discern through the thing that bound them. He knew fear and pain, anguish and anger, the pride that made her so strong.
All is well, she said. All is well, lir.
She was heavy, so heavy, though lacking her normal weight. Gently, she set her teeth against cheek and jaw and nibbled, more catlike than was common. One huge paw patted a thigh, the other kneaded a hip.
Corin's...
On the ground, Corin writhed. His bones were alive with fire.
Lir, Kiri said, try harder to overcome it.
He thrashed, and his legs spasmed. The Seker—he said. The Gate…
Think of me instead.
—burning— In the link, he felt her strength. Gods, Kiri—it burns— He hitched himself up on one arm, meaning to reach for her. Without warning, he vomited.
This gets the other boys' attention.
"We are too close," Hart said anxiously.
"Then send Rael to seek out safety, some place we can settle him until this crisis passes." Brennan's tone was sharp. "There is no opportunity for us to heal him until we have found proper refuge."
Corin's illness is making him quite vocal right now:
Corin's breathing was labored. "I thought if I made myself vomit the blood ... I could win . . . could overcome the power—" He grimaced from unseen pain, baring teeth shut tightly. "Strahan wanted you so badly . . . I thought if I acted like he had won, if I tricked him, I could find a means to escape—" His head thrashed against the earth until Brennan trapped it and held it still. "I knew if I drank again, I would be truly lost—" Teeth bit into bottom lip. "I needed to know a way out ... I let him think he had won, so he would show me—show me a hidden exit—" He spasmed. "Oh, gods, it hurts!"
"Hold your silence," Brennan told him gently, "There will be time for this later."
Corin's eyes were transfixed on Brennan's face. "But—you have to know ... I do love Aileen!" His mouth warped into a rigid rictus of pain. "I do want her, Brennan . . . Strahan found my weakness."
"And uncovered your strength." Brennan's face was stark, though his tone reflected none of it. "There are things all of us want. Corin, even against our wills. Much of Strahan's power is that which we give him ... he lets us make our own guilt, instead of forcing it on us."
"And I did want the Lion. .. long as I can remember—"
"Corin." Brennan bent close. "I swear, it does not matter. Do you think I could hate you for it after what you have done for us?"
Aww.
But the timing is bad. Corin's starting to fade. But that's when a familiar face appears!
Brennan looked up quickly. And then gaped in astonishment. “jehan—?".
Nope! Hart figures it out first: it's Carollan! Who lives in Solinde. Really, unwisely, close to Valgaard.
Carollan approached at a jog. He was, like their father, a big man, tall and strongly built, though now age stole flexibility and fluidity of movement. His hair was gray, bound back into a clubbed braid. Unlike Niall, he still had two eyes of unwavering blue. Both were fixed on Corin.
Carollan was thirty six in Track of the White Wolf. He should have been thirty-nine, but we'll let that go. That means, twenty-ish years later, he's fifty six. But he's still very strong. Strong enough to carry a delirious Corin (who asks if Strahan had given his father back his eye) to safety. Brennan and Hart follow.
The chapter ends here.
Sporkathon!
Date: 2023-12-06 11:07 am (UTC)So last time, we learned that the Ihlini concept of duress = consent contains a few blind spots. Mainly that someone who consents under duress might actually be, you know, LYING.
Shailiha: Which is why excessive torture, apart from unethical, is also useless. It will make you hated, and would make someone fake consent and confessions so you will stop. Even if they really don't mean it.
"He is not the Corin we knew. Who can say what he will do?"
They turned a corner and came up on him as he waited in the shadows. Lir-gold gleamed in tawny hair; armbands were hidden beneath sleeves of a dark gray doublet.
"What I will do," Corin said distinctly, "is take you out of here."
Alix: Short and to the point.
No," Brennan said. "I will forgo that exit."
"Then why not try this one?"
As one, they spun in place. Strahan stepped out of basalt. Godfire edged his robe of deepest black. The silver on his brow glowed lilac-white in the glare of the Gate.
Behind him was only shadow; no exit could be seen.
Per Strahan, SLeeta's behind the stone. Brennan thinks it's a trap. This is not particularly helped by Corin dropping to his knees in "perfect homage".
Alix: Don't kneel! Take him out once he is off-guard!
The Ihlini nodded slowly and put an approving hand on the tawny hair. "Well done, Corin. You have done as you said you would."
Corin turned his face up to Strahan. "And you have done as I hoped—" He lunged upward, off his knees, locking both arms around Strahan and pinning the sorcerer's arms. Even as Strahan twisted, Corin thrust out a foot to trip Strahan and tumble him into the Gate.
Flame gushed up. Strahan screamed something, and then the voice was silenced.
Alix: That's my descendant!
And then the Gate disgorged the Ihlini, blazing like a pyre, and Brennan did not look back.
Shailiha: Ouch. He had it coming.
Corin twisted away, feeling the touch of ensorcelled stone as a wing cruelly caressed his scalp. He saw his brothers waiting, both poised to flee again. But their unwillingness to leave him renewed his fading strength.
"—coming—" he gasped, and ran.
And then, abruptly, could not.
He fell hard. Tried to rise. And then knew what Strahan had done.
"My legs!" he cried. "My legs—“
Jelly, Strahan had threatened. As Corin lay sprawled on hot stone, trying in vain to rise, he knew the healing had been recalled.
Alix: The bastard, Strahan, still has fight in him?
They ran. Staggered. Tripped. Got up and ran again, cursing the pockets of shadow that reached out to catch their boots. Cauldrons gurgled, fumaroles splattered, smoke issued forth from vents. It coated flesh, clogged throats, filled eyes with irritation. Coughing, wheezing, gagging, they stumbled through crumbling crusts and tripped over the spine of the earth itself, wrenched free of flesh and muscle. The viscera was foul.
Shadows loomed. Darkness incarnate, stretching across the ground. And then the rules were changed.
Unexpectedly, there was movement in addition to their own. They snatched hurried glances out of the comers of reddening eyes, and then the eyes abruptly widened. The field was a grotesque boardgame made by the god himself, and the pieces were alive.
Pan: Wonderful, scary chase scene.
(Seeing all the touching reunions)
Shailiha: I envy you, Alix. Your series has greatly improved. I wish mine also had the route of yours.
Alix: Don't be jealous. I wouldn't have lived long enough to see it.
Nope! Hart figures it out first: it's Carollan! Who lives in Solinde.
Pan: (rolls eyes) Carollan? Running out of names? Well, it's a long series...
Alix: Pan, in my original author's defense, your fic also has, apart from me, an Alice and an Alicia. And we are all entirely different people.
Pan: Point.
Re: Sporkathon!
Date: 2023-12-06 01:31 pm (UTC)To be fair to Carollan, he was named specifically by folk who wanted to play up the fact that he was Carillon's bastard. So the similarity is intentional.
This is however a series that ALSO has: Bronwyn/Brennan, Aislinn/Aileen/Aidan, Keely/Kellan and Ginevra/Gisella though. So the criticism does apply over all.