This time she knew who raced through her mind, searching...suffering...

She turned to see Jag's body twisting from side to side, his arms pushing against the attendants. He broke the hold of the two attendants trying to subdue him and reached for her, his strong arm falling across her waist. He stopped jerking and went still as his breathing slowed to normal. Everyone else in the room stood back in a confused stupor.

"Semylyn?" Omree's voice whispered sounded close to her ear. "What do you want us to do? It's too dangerous to separate you right now."

"I don't know what's happening." She whispered, feeling her mind level out like a glassy sea after a turbulent rain, soothing her heart back into its normal pacing. "But..."

"Leave Us," Jag muttered as his hand tightened on her waist.

Semylyn turned her head to stare at the Sun-Dweller whose opened eyes, just inches from hers, were warm brown pools of total resolve. He locked her eyes with his, compelling her attention, holding her in place with invisible silver threads.

"But what, Semylyn?" Omree tried to get a response from his daughter.

"The girl needs to sleep," Jag stated, not taking his eyes from Semylyn. "Leave us. If you want her to recover, don't interfere again."

Semylyn barely heard the door's locking mechanism click into place as it closed. "I...I..." She stuttered, not knowing what she wanted to say, or how to begin.

"Sleep." The Sun-Dweller's eyes darkened as he spoke, making them almost black.

"But..." But what? There was something she wanted to say but it kept slipping further from her voice.

"Sleep." He said in a sharper tone and closed his eyes.

"We need..." Her argument faded as the annoying presence in her mind overrode her wishes with a commanding strength.

"Sleep...Sleep...Sleep."

*    *   *

Jag felt her mental resistance succumb to his influence, allowing her mind to slip into a healing sleep. She would survive, and so would he. But what exactly was he surviving? For sure, this was no nightmare from which he could hope to awake.

He flexed his fingers and slipped his hand from the girl's waist. Good! The compulsion to touch her was fading in intensity. Rolling to his back, he took a long, nerve-calming breath that allowed his aching muscles to relax.

At least, he and the girl were finally alone and he could think. He wished the men, whoever they were, had turned the overhead lights off when they'd left. He lifted his arm to lie across his forehead, shading his eyes from the brightness. Something hard and warm touched his head. Springing to a seated position, he stared at the bracelet-like band on his wrist, solid, seamless, plain, except for the strange symbols etched onto its surface.

Memories played across his mind like a slideshow. His arm raised, silver light projecting like a missile toward another man. The girl's hand in his. The knowing of her, the sharing, the mind perception...

He grasped the band with his other hand attempting to yank it from his wrist but it was as if he yanked on his arm instead. He fingered it, looking for its edges. There were no edges, only a smooth transition from metal to living skin. No clasp, no lock, how was he supposed to remove the thing?