a communication spell that, through unknown means, allowed two minds to meet on a dreamlike inner landscape. But if the person with whom he communicated died, then whose emotions was he sensing?
As he'd been ripping through the moss for Elric, he'd believed for a moment, when the tingling ran through him, that he had somehow sensed Elric, in his passing. As Galen thought about it now, he knew that was not so. He knew Elric better than anyone, and what he'd sensed was not Elric. Though Elric might have felt regret, a desire to continue, the emotions Galen had sensed were somehow too simple, too basic to arise from Elric.
And now, with Wierden, the feelings were slightly different, yet still they carried the same simplicity, purity.
As unlikely as it seemed, he could think of only one possibility-that he was receiving some impression from their tech, its life lasting a few moments longer than its host's, the channel of communication lingering.
But he had felt longing, sadness. The tech wanted only to destroy. It urged him constantly to action; it reveled in sympathetic vibration with the Eye. Razeel had said the tech spoke to her of chaos, of a universe reborn in fire and blood. Those golden strands bound them to darkness; even now he felt their burning desire.
Yet that was the Shadows' will, he realized. It arose from their programming, not the tech itself. Of the tech, he knew nothing. Perhaps it loved destruction no more than an archaeologist named Anna Sheridan once had.
If that was so, could those fleeting sensations reflect what a true connection to the tech would feel like, below the level of the Shadows' programming, below the drives to chaos and destruction?
He searched for the sensation within himself, but he could hear only the echo of his