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  By now, they had reached the floor of the valley and were approaching the outskirts of the town. People working in the fields stopped to stare at them, and even from a distance Jalissa could feel their hostility. Several shook their fists, and a few spat in their direction.

  That hatred became ever more apparent as they made their way slowly along the narrow streets of the town. Although she did her level best to hide it, Jalissa was terrified. Never before had she encountered such hatred directed at her.

  She started nervously as Panera's hand covered hers. "You're safe, Jalissa. Remember that. It's important that you not let them see your fear. A Witch wouldn't be afraid of them."

  This Witch is, she said silently, staring out through the tinted window at the crowd that surrounded the vehicle as they drove into the town square. But if his gesture did little to soothe her fears, it still managed to send a shiver of pleasure through her. "Stay inside and let me come around to open the door for you," he instructed. "I want us to stay together at all times."

  The crowd pressed even closer to them, straining to see through the tinted glass. When he had shut off the engine, she could hear them muttering in their guttural tongue. No translation was required for her to know they were hostile.

  Panera opened his door and got out without hesitation. Jalissa was astonished at his bravery, and wondered just how many times he'd faced situations like this. She'd always thought of Special Agents as troublemakers and nothing more, but she now realized she might have been wrong.

  He closed the door and stood there for a moment, towering over the short, squat Daks. His back was to her at the moment, but she could see his head move as he scanned the crowd. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his hand not even near the stunner, and there was no sign at all of tension or fear.

  Surely, she thought, he must be afraid. And yet even she, who had been trained to pick up the most subtle hints of such things, saw nothing. She was amazedand filled with a reluctant admiration as well. This was a man whose great wealth allowed him to do as he wished with his life, and yet here he was, in a situation that most men would gladly have avoided. And certainly not for the first time either.

  He began to walk casually around the front of the vehicle to her door. The crowd moved back slightly, but there remained an ugly undercurrent in their voices, and she could see the hatred on the faces of those closest to the vehicle.

  Then he opened her door and reached a hand inside to help her out, turning his back on the muttering crowd. One man took the opportunity to step forward and spit at him, but if Miklos was aware of it, he gave no indication. He even smiled at her as he took her hand. His hand was warm. Hers felt as though she'd just dipped it into ice water.

  The moment she stepped out of the vehicle, the crowd's angry murmurs died away into a brief silence followed by a collective gasp. And then she heard on many lips the word "Witch." It was the same in all languages.

  She stood beside Panera and let her gaze travel over the throng. Their earlier hostility had vanished. What she saw on their faces now was respect and awe. For the first time in her life, Jalissa was proud of being a Witch. Here, on this primitive world, she understood at last the true power of her birthright: the power to control the hearts and minds of people who had for centuries looked to the Coven as the very embodiment of the old gods.

  And she knew something else as well: She could not deceive these people with Vantran tricks. To do so would be to betray her heritage.

  Chapter Six

  Very slowly, Jalissa raised her hands until they were stretched high above her head. Her gaze traveled over the silent, expectant crowd. Nowhere did she encounter even a hint of hostility. Eyes that had only moments before glittered with hatred now shone with reverence. Jalissa Kendor, the Whisperer, had become a Witch, revered as a member of a race that went back to the dawn of time.

  She rotated her wrists very slightly to activate the bracelets, but at the same time, she called upon the ancient fire, believed by her people to be the sacred fire of the gods.

  An eerie blue light immediately engulfed her hands as the powers she invoked sang through her body, filling her entire being. And for one brief moment, she was transported back to the Covenand to her -year-old self. The gift of fire, or the "blessing of the gods," as it was known among her people, was conferred upon children of the Coven when they reached their th birthday. She'd received it only a few months before she left them.

  Memories of her life there now came back to her: memories she'd ignored for years. She could hear the low, rhythmic chants of the priests, smell the pungent incense, and see the dark forms leaping and dancing as no human could possibly do.

  Then the images faded and she was once more staring at the Daks as they gazed upon the fire with rapturous expressions. And in that moment, she also became aware of the silent man at her side.

  She closed her fists, extinguishing the fire to a soft sigh from her audience. Fear skittered along the edges of her mind as she belatedly realized the danger in her actions. But she was too filled with the power of her true self to be genuinely alarmed.

  "I am Jalissa Kendor!" she said, projecting her voice so that all could hear her. "I seek your help, Believers. I must find my brother Warlock who visited you recently. Tell me what he told you."

  Those nearest to her began to speak at once in their eagerness to help her. Jalissa realized that they weren't even curious about her use of the crystal. No doubt they thought it was just another of her powers. Or perhaps they hadn't even noticed. In olden times, at least some Coven members knew the languages of all the people who worshipped them, and apparently the renegade Warlock Kavnor had studied them.

  She directed her attention to one man, who quickly stepped forward, making the sign of the Coven as he did so. He told her that Kavnor had urged them to take up arms against the Federation "when the time comes," and promised that the Coven would lead them to freedom.

  "Did he say when this would be?" she asked.

  The man shook his head and stated that they would be ready to do as asked. With a defiant look at Miklos, he said that they desired to be ruled by the Coven, "as we were before the accursed Federation came."

  Jalissa looked at the group of women at the rear of the all-male crowd. They were completely covered by dark robes and veils, but even so, she could see their submissiveness, their deference to the men who had pushed past them.

  She thought about the power she had, power the Coven could use to make life better for them. Wouldn't that be more important than anything she could do as a mere Whisperer?

  "Do you know where the Warlock went?" she asked, turning her attention back to the man in front of her. Once again, the Dak shook his head. "He told us that he will travel to all worlds where there are still Believers."

  The man abruptly sank to his knees, and within seconds, every other man in the crowd did likewise. "We are all ready to die in service to the Coven, Blessed One."

  Jalissa merely nodded, knowing that she shouldn't thank them for this display of loyalty. They wouldn't be expecting that. Instead, after a moment, she extended her hand and made a gesture to tell them to rise again.

  As they did so, there was a sudden commotion at the back of the crowd, where the group of women stood. Then the men began to move aside to make way for a woman who was carrying a child of about two years. Even before the woman reached her, Jalissa knew what would be requested of her. She should have anticipated this.

  The child, a little boy who might have been older than he appeared, was obviously very sick. He was naked from the waist up and his ribs stood out starkly against his brown skin. His arms were nothing more than skin stretched over bone, and as the woman brought him to her, he began to cough weakly.

  Consumption, she thought with horror: a disease that had vanished centuries ago elsewhere in the galaxy.

  The woman's eyes pleaded silently, and the crowd watched Jalissa expectantly. She faced a terrible dilemma. No Witch or Warlock ever refu
sed to heal, and these people would know that, as surely as they knew that her ancestors had cured this particular disease many times. But if she used her powers to cure the child, Panera would know that she was truly a Witch.

  The woman laid the coughing child on the ground in front of her, then stepped back. Jalissa knelt beside him, staring into his fevered eyes and hearing his raspy breathing. And she knew that she had no choice.

  She placed her hands lightly on the child's chest and rotated her wrists to activate the bracelets. Then she called upon the healing powers, and the blue fire surrounded her fingertips with a gentle glow. The warmth spread from her hands to the child, and within seconds, his breathing became quiet and regular.

  She was not a Healer, in the highest sense of the word. She had only the basic talent they all possessedbut she knew that it was enough in this case. The fever left the child's dark eyes and in seconds, he closed them in sleep. She removed her hands and stood up, then picked up the slumbering child and gave him back to his mother.

  Tears of joy streamed down the woman's face as she clutched the child. She thanked Jalissa profusely, as did several others, including a man who must be the boy's father. He knelt before her, making the sign of the Coven.

  "Live in peace," she said, touching the man's head lightly. "Your son is well."

  Then, finally, she turned to face Miklos Panera, her head high and her eyes challenging. He met her gaze, but his expression revealed nothing. She had expected hatred and fearor perhaps triumph at having now gained the evidence he sought to confirm their suspicions about her.

  "Favored of the Gods," a voice said hesitantly, using one of the old terms for her people.

  She turned to face an elderly man, who made the sign of the Coven and then asked if she would bless a place for them where they could pray to the old gods.

  Jalissa nodded. This too would be expected. In the past, her people had rarely left their home, but when they did, it was customary for them to perform such tasks. Given the fact that her own belief in the old gods was tenuous at best, Jalissa did wonder if she should be doing such a thing. Furthermore, she hadn't the slightest idea how to go about it.

  It was disconcerting, to say the least, to be among people whose knowledge of such rituals was greater than her own.

  "Where is this place?" she asked, and the man pointed to a building at the far side of the square. It appeared to be the largest building in town, and was probably already a gathering place.

  When she started toward it, Panera began to follow her. She turned to him and said quietly that she thought it would be better if he re- mained where he was. She was sure that the Daks would not want him in the building.

  To her surprise and relief, he merely nodded and walked back to their vehicle. When she reached the building, she turned and saw him leaning against it, his arms folded across his chest as he watched her.

  She wondered why the Daks seemed so impervious to his presence. Why didn't they question what she was doing traveling with one of the enemy? Then it occurred to her that perhaps they believed him to be her captivea spellbound slave to do her bidding.

  She had to admit that the idea was not without a certain appeal.

  Miklos didn't like the idea of having her out of his sight, but he knew she was right. If he insisted upon accompanying her, it could cause just the kind of trouble they'd managed to avoid so far. So instead, he waited uneasily and tried to think rationally about what he'd just witnessed.

  He felt chilled to his very bones. He was a man of science, but for a few moments, he'd felt what these primitive people must have felt: a sense of something far beyond human understanding.

  Miklos had watched her practice with the bracelets and the effect had been impressive. In fact, it had been downright unsettling to see her in the role he'd assigned to her. It was like watch- ing one of the figures in the paintings come to life.

  But here, he'd felt something differentsomething very powerful. He reminded himself that acting was part of a Whisperer's training, just as it had been part of his. He wanted to believe it was no more than that. But when the woman had brought the child to her . . .

  Miklos knew that the poor child must have fallen into a coma. It was obvious that he was near death. But once again, he'd been as ready as the parents to believe that she'd cured the boy.

  It had to be nothing more than fine acting, but that knowledge sat on him very uneasily. He wondered if he could possibly be guilty of wanting the exact opposite of what his superiors wanted. They wanted to cast doubt on her by suggesting that she was a Witch, but he was increasingly certain that he wanted just as much to prove that she wasn't.

  Lost in thought, he watched her disappear into the building, surrounded by what were apparently the town elders. He still disliked the idea of having her out of his sight, but he was sure they wouldn't harm hernot after the display she'd just put on.

  Then suddenly, a thin, strong strip of leather was being drawn tight around his neck. Before he could reach for his stunner, his arms were pinned to his sides and one of his captors had slipped the stunner from his belt. Unable to make more than a strangled sound, Miklos cursed himself for a fool as he was dragged away by his captors. He clung desperately to the hope that they wouldn't kill him without consulting Jalissa first.

  Jalissa did her best to invoke a blessing on the place. Away from the watchful, suspicious eyes of Miklos Panera, she was free to use the sacred fire. She raised her hands and sent it arcing into every corner of the big, open room. She stood in its center, and the Daks huddled near the doorway, silent and awestruck. Since she lacked the proper words, she chose instead to invoke the Coven's ancient blessing of the harvest, reasoning that since most of the town was dependent upon the surrounding farms, that would suffice. Then she told them that she must leave, that there were other worlds to visit in her search for her brother Warlock.

  When she emerged from the building and saw that Panera was no longer standing beside their vehicle, she at first assumed that he must be inside. But when she reached it and peered in through the darkened windows, a jolt of fear shot through her. Where was he? She was certain that he would never have wandered off on his own.

  ''Where is the man who accompanied me?" she asked.

  The Dak leader looked at her with a proud smile. "We have captured him, Blessed One, and we have taken away his magic."

  For one horrified moment, Jalissa thought he meant that they'd killed Miklos. Then she realized that the man was probably referring to his stunner.

  "You must let him come with me," she said firmly. "It is not yet time to declare war on the Federation, and this man is very important. If anything happens to him, the Federation soldiers will come here and destroy you."

  The man hesitated. He was clearly disappointed at not being able to kill a hated Federation agent. Jalissa held her breath. If necessary, she would use her powers to free Panera, for she felt responsible for this predicament. The Daks would never have taken him captive if she hadn't come here as a Witch.

  Finally, the Dak told the others to bring him back, and a few moments later, Panera reappeared, his hands bound behind his back and a leather thong made into a noose around his neck, still held securely by a powerful-looking young Dak.

  Only later would Jalissa realize that it was a moment she should have savored: The life of a Federation Special Agent was literally in her hands. But in that moment, all she could feel was relief at seeing that he was alive and unhurt.

  It was clear that the young man holding onto the leather noose was very reluctant to let his captive go. He gave the leather thong a vicious twist that snapped Panera's neck backward, nearly knocking him off balance. But in a lightning-fast movement, Panera kicked out at the man and sent him tumbling to the ground with a cry of pain.

  The men with him immediately surrounded Panera, and he began to fight them with kicks as well, since his hands were still tightly bound behind his back. They all fell to the ground in a cloud of dust.
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br />   "Stop!" Jalissa cried, raising her hands to call down the fire again.

  The struggles ceased as the Daks stared at the blue fire arcing from her fingertips. Panera struggled to his knees and then to his feet. She closed her fists on the fire and hurried to him to undo his bonds. She was clumsy because her fingers were trembling.

  "Get the stunner," he said in a calm, quiet voice intended for her ears alone.

  She finally succeeded in freeing him, and scanned the silent group of men, searching for the stunner. It was of less consequence to her than to him, but she certainly didn't want to have to resort to magic to get them out of here.

  "Give me his magic," she said. "I will keep it so that he can't harm you."

  The young man who'd been trying to strangle Panera stepped forward and handed her the silver cylinder. "Now you will have his magic as well as your own, Favored One," he said triumphantly.

  "Thank you," Jalissa said, taking it from him. "May the gods bestow their blessings on all of you."

  She opened the door and got into the vehicle and Panera slid into the driver's seat. Not one word passed between them as they drove out of the town, past the silent crowd. Jalissa shot him a covert glance and saw the taut muscles along his firm jaw. It took little guesswork on her part to know what he was thinking. The proud Vantran was obviously struggling with what for him was surely a novel emotion: humility. Now that she knew they were safe, she could enjoy that.

  And she very much hoped that after what had happened to him, he might have forgotten what he'd witnessed when she'd so foolishly loosed the fire on her own and then healed the child.

  A tense silence continued as they drove up the winding road to the summit of the mountain that overlooked the town. The fog had blown away with the afternoon breeze and she stared back at it, shuddering as she thought about what might have happened. If Panera hadn't forced her to play the role of a Witch, they might both be dead. Kavnor, the Warlock, might well have stirred them up to rebellion even before her arrival here with Panera.