To Darkness Fled by Jill Williamson

unless... Achan squeezed his hands into fists. If Riga harmed Gren in any way, he'd forever regret it.
    Another pretty face drifted into his mind: Lady Tara Livna of Tsaftown. Unless something went wrong, he'd see Lady Tara soon enough. How much Tara looked like the goddess Cetheria. A crown of ivory braids. Eyes bluer than forget-me-nots. Achan smiled, recalling her beauty and spunk.
    He looked into her eyes as if she stood before him. The gemlike sparkle of her gaze drenched him in awe. Her skin was gold leaf. She held a spear, which she drew back and lobbed at his chest. It pierced his flesh, jolting his heart. He stared at it, gasping, dumfounded to find himself still standing. He grabbed the shaft with two hands and pulled. It wouldn't budge.
    Lady Tara giggled, her voice like a musical brook. She sauntered toward him and ran her fingertips along the spear. "Shall I free you?"
    Pain shot through Achan's shoulder. He blinked. Darkness surrounded him, lit by the faint orange glow of firelight. Where was he? Had that been a dream?
    The rope at Achan's waist tugged, pulling him tighter against a hard surface. He reached out and found a fat, sticky tree. He was in Darkness with the knights, running from Esek.
    Sir Gavin called out from the circle of torchlight, "All right back there?"
    "Are you hurt, Achan?" Sparrow's voice. Behind him.
    "Uh..." Achan stepped around the protruding tree. "There's a tree here, Sparrow. Watch yourself."
    "Just a tree, Sir Gavin," Sparrow yelled and the rope tugged Achan along again.
    Sir Gavin Whitewolf.
    Achan perked up. Sir Gavin was knocking, wanting to bloodvoice. Achan concentrated on opening the door like he'd done last night, allowing only Sir Gavin inside.
    Would he know if he succeeded? He wanted to tell Sir Gavin about Cetheria--no, that had been Lady Tara, hadn't it?
    Achan , Sir Gavin said. Don't answer, simply listen. 'Tis vital you learn to bloodvoice straight away. I've no doubt you'll succeed. Our connection now is perfect. You've opened your mind only to me. I can sense your shields. Now you must learn to speak without dropping your shields. Duplicate yourself, like Caleb's guard explanation, leaving a man to guard your mind. Let the other speak. Cough if you understand.
    Cough? Why the secrecy? Did Sir Gavin suspect someone? Sparrow perhaps? Achan considered the little fox on his heels and coughed.
    Good. Now do as I described.
    Achan took a deep breath. He imagined himself standing sentry before the door to his mind, Eagan's Elk raised, ready to defend. He pictured himself stepping to the side. Instead of the guard Achan moving, another Achan stepped out of the first. The two stood side by side in his mind, looking at one another.
    Go on, then , the first Achan said to the second. I've got this.
    Achan smiled. He always had been a quick learner.
    Twice before, Achan had passed through one mind and into another. Sparrow called it jumping. Achan had jumped through Sparrow to see Macoun Hadar speak with Lord Nathak. Then, when the Council of Seven had gone to deliberate as to who would be king, Achan jumped through Sir Gavin to watch the debate through Prince Oren's eyes.
    Both times, Sparrow and Sir Gavin had been watching already. Achan had merely touched them, used their energy, cheated really, like peeking over their shoulder to use what they had already accomplished.
    This time he'd need to use his own strength. He hoped he wouldn't faint as Sparrow often did. Concentrating on Sir Gavin, the second Achan ventured out.
    Achan now walked at the front of the line, staring out through Sir Gavin's eyes into the black void beyond, arm holding a burning torch above his head, dodging the occasional slimy, black branch. Sir Gavin's pack and shield hung heavy over his aching shoulders. The rope at his waist jerked, forcing him to stop.
    "Gavin!" Sir Caleb shouted from behind.
    Wait. Hadn't Sir Caleb been ahead of him?
    "Aye?" Sir Gavin wheeled around, looking back to Sir Caleb, who