and Isabelle had not responded.
He again visualized himself traveling the vast distances, reaching Zafran 8, the spaceport, Burell's penthouse apartment. Galen's energy was not there, nor Isabelle's. He could look for them elsewhere on the planet, but it would take time.
Within the apartment he sensed a weaker energy: Burell's. She would know where they had gone. He plucked up her energy, drew it inside him.
The circle of stones took on definition around him. He had no time for its comfort. Burell stood a few feet away. Her self-image was not the illusion of beauty she projected for others, nor the illness-ravaged truth she hid. It reflected what she had looked like several years ago, before the illness had taken her. She was beautiful, yes, but more than that, strong. The dark slanting lines of her brows, the brilliant green of her eyes reflected a will that would not be beaten, a curiosity that would not be satisfied, and a personality that demanded truth. Her spirit had not been crippled, and Elric was glad for that.
"Elric. I think I was asleep. If you wanted to jump into my bed, you could have asked first."
"I'm sorry," Elric said. "My concern for Galen and Isabelle has overruled my manners."
She came toward him, a startled smile crossing her face as her legs responded. The sea breeze blew past them. "What of Galen and Isabelle?"
"The Circle has recalled them. I sent them a message but have received no response. Where are they?"
Burell's eyes narrowed. "Damn the Circle. Isabelle and Galen should have been recalled sooner. They went back to obtain more information from the Drakh. Isabelle discovered-"
"Can you go to them?" They were not reading his message. Even if they did, they would finish what they had begun. Galen was feeling unworthy,