if there was even the slightest chance that she could be taken away from all this death and brought to him, he knew she would want to take it.
"Good." Elizar stood, moved away.
As Bunny's eyes narrowed on Fa, Galen remembered the horrible sensation of her invading his mind, of the black tentacles burrowing into him, searching for his deepest secrets.
Fa gasped, and the ring jerked as her body went rigid.
Galen crossed his arms over his chest, and his mother's voice came to him then, hard and powerful. It's a ring. It will have a stone here, which will copy any data crystal it touches.
How can it do that? he asked.
She pointed to the small, ragged black stone clamped to the worktable. The inner layers store information, just as a normal data crystal. The outer layer will look the same, but function differently. As she continued her explanation, her spidery fingers worked over the stone.
Finally she was finished, and she slipped the large ring on his finger. The ragged stone fell to one side. There. How do you like that?
The ring should be very useful, he said.
She fixed him with her dark gaze. A Trojan horse, she said, switching to an obscure dialect of ancient Greek, as she sometimes did when they were alone, to convey that she shared some secret. She continued in English. No one would guess what it can do. We wizards are subtle.
She was paraphrasing the old saying: Do not try the patience of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.
The ring showed him only Bunny's hungry face, yet he could hear Fa's breath, harsh and ragged.
Galen sent the phrase a Trojan horse to the ring. No response. Sent it in the Greek. No response.
Do not try the patience of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.
He sent those