Artifacts Of Power - Dhiammara Part 17

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But a new feeling had come over the thief. Here he was, in a different place, his previous background unknown, the slate wiped clean. Suddenly he was fired by a newfound determination to prove himself among these folk, to fit in at last with those around him. Grince pulled out his knife and stuck it between his teeth. He spat on his hands, swallowed back his fears, and began to climb the mast.

In fact it was quite easy. The rough, damp wood gave him a good sure hold and there were plenty of ropes and things to help him on his way. He shot up the first part at speed, showing off again, and was more than halfway up the wretched thing when everything changed. Gradually the mast began to narrow, making it more difficult to get a firm grip with his legs. Also, the further he got, the more violently the s.h.i.+p began to rock, and the more he could feel the swaying motion as the top of the mast tipped back and forth through the air. Grince's stomach lurched and heaved. His palms began to sweat, causing him further difficulties with the climbing. Rashly, he looked down-and froze with a whimper, his teeth clenched tight around the haft of the knife as he clung like a leech with his arms and legs wrapped tightly around the swinging pole.

Only professional pride made the thief continue. Cautiously he inched his way higher, carefully not looking down at the narrow deck and all that water far below. After what seemed like a year or two, his groping hand fell upon a tangle of ropes and a long wooden spar caught up in them so that it 246Maggie Furey drooped at an acute angle that looked wrong even to Grince's inexperienced landsman's eye. "This must be that gaff thing, I suppose," he muttered to himself. Hanging on tightly with one hand, he sliced through the entangling ropes-and nearly went cras.h.i.+ng to the deck with the gaff as it struck him hard on the shoulder in falling, narrowly missing his head.

Afterward, he had no memory whatever of climbing down. Grince came back to himself to find that he was standing on the blessed, solid deck with the two men clapping him on the shoulders hard enough to rattle his teeth.

"Well done, lad!'



"You did a good job up there-it wasn't easy."

"Come on, Jeskin-let's see if we can't find him a drink somewhere."

Filled with a warm glow of belonging, Grince managed to conceal his utter relief to be back on sh.o.r.e again. The old men beached their rowing boat and led him off down a different pa.s.sage, that twisted and turned until it reached what was clearly a vast kitchen that fairly hummed with the purposeful bustle of a meal in preparation.*

Dodging their way between the busy workers with utter unconcern, Grince's new friends towed him across the cavern. "Emmie-hey, Emmie? Have you a drop of rum in the pantry for a handy lad?"

"Have a heart, boys-can't you see I'm busy?" The slender figure that had been stooping over the fire turned to reveal a fair-haired woman whose delicate elfin features no longer held the smooth glow of youth.

Grince looked at her and the world seemed to whirl around him. For a moment he was a ten-year-old boy again, who had just been given the first true possessions of his life by the first person to be truly kind to him. "You!" he gasped. "Emmie! I never thought I'd see you again!"

The woman's silvery brows drew together in puzzlement. "Do I know you?"

The thief was just opening his mouth to explain when it happened. There came a low whine from under the table, and a huge white dog emerged, yawning and stretching its great limbs. Memory struck Grince down like a sword. His throat clogged, and his vision swam as his eyes flooded helplessly with tears. The dog could have been the ghost of his own lost, beloved Warrior.

The crowded kitchen with all its heat and noise vanished Vhiammarz 247.

from the thief's perception. He and the white dog were the only creatures in the world. Grince couldn't speak. His heart was foundering in a vast and swirling wave of mingled memory, sorrow, and joy. The dog, noticing a stranger who had plainly been accepted into Emmie's pack, came ambling over to investigate, and thrust a cold nose into the thief's hand, its tail sweeping back and forth. Grince ruffled the sharp-p.r.i.c.ked, silken white ears and dropped to his knees, throwing his arms around the broad, s.h.a.ggy neck as tears ran down his face.

Emmie looked down at the lad, trying to remember where she had seen him before. He wasn't part of the Nightrunner community, and yet, and yet... The memory lurked teasingly at the edge of her mind, but as yet, she couldn't bring it to light. She was sure the youth must be older than he looked- his short stature and ragged appearance were deceptive-yet he couldn't be more than twenty, if that. And what was the mystery with Snowsilver? Clearly, the white dog held some tremendous significance for him. It was difficult to interrupt such an emotional scene, but after a moment's hesitation, Emmie reached out gently and touched the stranger's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

The lad started and looked up at her, and gradually his expression cleared and composed itself as though he was coming back from a far, far place. He sniffed hard and rubbed his face on his ragged sleeve. Then, to her astonishment and faint alarm, he scrambled to his feet and grabbed hold of her hand. "Emmie, don't you remember me? It's Grince-from Nexis. You gave me the puppies...."

"Grince . . . ?" As the memories came flooding back, his smudged, unshaven face resolved into the pinched, unhealthy features of the neglected, starveling child she had rescued from the squalid back streets of Nexis.

Grince's expression changed to a sullen scowl and he turned away from her abruptly. "Never mind," he muttered. "Forget it. Why should you remember me?"

"No! Wait! Grince, I do remember." Though he resisted, Emmie grabbed his shoulder and pulled him firmly back to face her. Gently, she touched his face. "Truly, I remember," she told him softly. "You pulled a knife on me and told me to bog off, and ..."

"And you took me to see the white dog and her puppies,"

Z 4 ifM a.gg i e F u r ey the young man finished for her. "You were the first person who was ever kind to me." His voice was thick with emotion. "All these years, I thought you were dead." As she reached out to hug him, Emmie was suddenly aware that the burden of the past had been lightened, and one of the wounds of grief she had carried with her from those dreadful, tragic days had been healed at last. She tugged Grince's hand. "Come back to my rooms with me. We have so much catching up to do-I want to hear everything. I can't believe you managed to survive that terrible night. Come on-" She scooped up some pasties that were cooling on the table and folded them into a cloth. "This lot can make their own b.l.o.o.d.y supper for once."

Zanna strode purposefully down the corridor, trailed by a pair of chattering young Nightrunner la.s.ses bearing fresh linens, dust rags, and brooms. She was on her way to prepare the chambers for her guests, having volunteered to undertake the task herself in the hope that brisk activity might dull the scalding sense of shame she felt at Dulsina's hostile welcome of the Mage. It's my fault, she thought for the hundredth tijne. I knew perfectly well the uncertain state of Dulsina's mind since Dad was taken. I should have known better than to let her near Aurian . . . The rest of the thought was lost in the surge of dull and empty pain that accompanied any memory of Vannor-not only a loss, but a betrayal. I lost him before the Phaerie took him, she thought. After he was poisoned, he was never the same.

Zanna shook her head and pushed such sad thoughts to the back of her mind. After all, she had so much to be thankful for-Tarnal and their two boys most of all. Valand and Martek, aged eight and six, were growing up to be fine, st.u.r.dy boys, and she was proud of them. Indeed, since Emmie and Yanis had no children and looked unlikely to have any now, the Nightrunner leader had named Valand his successor, and the lad, taking after his father no doubt, was already proving himself to be a natural seaman. In fact he had already been brought back twice from attempts to stow away on board the smuggler s.h.i.+ps.

Feeling cheered by the thought of her family, Zanna hastened on her way. She had decided to put Aurian in the guest quarters near her own rooms, but as she pa.s.sed the chambers that she shared with Tarnal, she was halted by the sound of raised and angry voices coming from within.

Vh m m 3 r 2 249.

Zanna frowned. "You two girls start without me-go on, get busy, if you want to be finished by suppertime. I'll follow you in a few minutes." When they were safely gone, she stood for a moment outside the door, trying to get some idea of what was going on before she went bursting into the middle of it.

". . . And / say we don't want 'em and we don't need 'em. They have no business here."

"Gevan, Aurian and Anvar are our friends. They have every right to be here." Though Tarnal was trying hard to be patient, Zanna recognized from his clipped tones that his temper was fraying. She sighed. For her mild-tempered husband to be that exasperated, the two men must have been wrangling for some considerable time.

"d.a.m.n all Mages-they're nothing but bad luck and trouble! Why couldn't they stay gone, and leave the world to decent folk? She's bad enough-last time she came it was b.l.o.o.d.y wolves and I don't know what else-but have you seen that Anvar? He don't look right-there's something badly amiss with him, you mark my words. And what about that other one, that spook, all m.u.f.fled up like that and never showing his face nor saying a word. Not to mention that other lowlife little blackguard they dragged along. There's trouble there for somebody, you mark my words. You'd best make b.l.o.o.d.y sure the storerooms are locked up tight!"

"Gevan, that's enough1." Finally, Tarnal had been goaded to anger. "Let me remind you that in Yanis's absence / am in command here. Now you either accept that, or you go."

Zanna caught her breath sharply. Yanis used this ploy often enough to put Gevan in his place-but it worked for him because he was Leynard's son, and Gevan had first and foremost been Leynard's man. Whether he would accept it from Tarnal . . .

"All right then, if that's the way you want it. But mark my words, you'll be sorryl" Wrenching the door open, Gevan strode out of the room, white-lipped with anger. Pus.h.i.+ng Zanna roughly aside, he rushed away down the pa.s.sage, and was gone. As Zanna entered the room, her husband was rubbing his forehead wearily. Rus.h.i.+ng to his side, she put her arms around him. "Never mind," she said. "Gevan's just a loudmouthed, bad-tempered fool. He'll never change."

Tarnal grimaced. "You heard, then?"

"The last part, anyway," Zanna admitted.

25 0Maggie Furey "You probably missed all the best bits then-he's been at me ever since Aurian arrived." Tarnal groaned, and went to pour himself a cup of wine. "G.o.ds, but my poor head is ringing...."

A p.r.i.c.kle of unease crawled across Zanna's skin. "Tarnal, do you think he'll really leave?"

"The G.o.ds only know, love. If he does or if he doesn't-I don't know which will cause us more trouble."

The white dog accompanied Grince and Emmie. When they entered the woman's chambers it vanished purposefully behind a curtain at the far side of the room, which clearly concealed a further room, or rooms, beyond. Having not yet seen a Nightrunner living chamber, the thief looked around him curiously as Emmie went to stoke the fire.

Emmie's rooms were pleasant and homely-not like living in a cave at all, Grince thought, though like all the accommodations in this place, the suite of chambers had been hollowed out of solid rock. But thick, gay, woven rugs covered the floor, and the walls were warmed by colorful hangings. Small lamps burned brightly in wall niches or were suspended from chains bolted into the uneven stone ceilings, and though there was no fireplace, a st.u.r.dy iron stove burned driftwood, a pile of which was stored in a basket nearby. The furnis.h.i.+ngs were simply and rustically constructed from a mixture of smooth planed wood and driftwood whose fluid, curving shapes added interest and character. There were wooden shelves, cupboards and chests for storage, and the chairs were padded with cus.h.i.+ons stuffed fat with dried gra.s.s and fragrant herbs.

"This calls for a celebration." Emmie took a bottle of wine and two cups from the cupboard, and laid out the pasties on the table.

It was the best meal of Grince's life. As they ate, Emmie told him of her escape from Nexis, the night that Pendral's men had attacked with such tragic and destructive results. "There was so much to do when I got here that I ended up just staying on, when the rest of the Nexians went home," she told the thief. "There was a place for me here-the Night-runners lacked a healer and Remana needed my help more and more. When she died last year, I took over completely. Then there was Yanis."To his surprise, Grince saw her blus.h.i.+ng. "Well, he's a good man-his heart's in the right place and the G.o.ds only know, he needed a wife to look after him." Em- Vhia.mma.rz 25 1.

mie shrugged. "What could I do? He pestered and pestered me so much that I finally said yes. But what about you, Grince? I was so sure you were dead. What happened to you that night? How did you manage to escape?"

Reluctantly at first, Grince began to tell her. He had never spoken to anyone of that dreadful night, but to his surprise, once he had started, the words seemed to flow from him with increasing ease. He wept when he told her of his mother's death, and the horrors he had seen in the burning stockade. His tears began afresh when he told her of Warrior, and how the beloved white dog had perished-ironically, at the hands of Lord Pendral's soldiers once more. Emmie held him like the child he had been when they first met and shared his grief, and when his tears were over, Grince felt transformed. It was as though he had been carrying a festering wound within him for half his life, and tonight, the poison had been drained.

The thief pulled away at last, and blew his nose on the handkerchief that Emmie had thoughtfully provided. He gave her an unsteady smile. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, you needed that." Emmie smiled warmly. "You've been saving up all that grief for too long a time, Grince-not only for your mother but for poor Warrior too." She sighed. "I know how that feels. When I lost Storm, his mother, two years ago, I thought I'd never get over it. ... Some folks would say it was ridiculous, really-I had already lost a husband and two children-yet here I was, grieving so deeply over just a dog."

"Ah, but she wasn't just a dog," Grince put in softly. "She was your friend."

Emmie nodded. "That's right-she was. And a better friend no one ever had. At least I was luckier than you, Grince. Storm died peacefully of a ripe old age, right here in this room-and I had Snowsilver, her daughter, to comfort me. You know, it was strange-she was the only one of Storm's offspring that ever bred true to her mother, and she was one of Storm's last litter. It was almost as though Storm had left me a gift, for when she had gone...." A sudden smile lit Emmie's face. She thrust her chair back with a jarring sc.r.a.pe and leapt to her feet. "Grince, come with me. I have something to show you."

Burning with curiosity, the thief followed Emmie as she pulled back the curtain at the far end of the room. Beyond was a short corridor with three doors leading ofF at intervals.

25 ZM.

The single door on the right was slightly ajar, and Emmie pushed it open then stood back and gestured for him to precede her. "I think there's someone in there who may want to meet you," she said. Grince saw the twinkle in her eye, and wondered. His stomach felt hollow with a sudden, inexplicable surge of excitement as he went through the door.

The small, cozy chamber was some kind of study or workroom. A cl.u.s.ter of quills stood in a small pot on the desk, and the shelves were stacked with volumes and scrolls. A cabinet, two big chests, two hard chairs, and a low wooden couch completed the furnis.h.i.+ngs. Another stove, unlit, squatted in one corner, and the ceiling lamp was turned down low.

Every one of these details was blotted from Grince's mind by the occupants of the couch. There, curled up on the cus.h.i.+ons, was Emmie's dog Snowsilver-and beside her sat a young dog who was the living image of Warrior.

Grince stood as if stricken, lost in memories of a young boy and a puppy who had been forced to make their way alone in a hard and dangerous world. The young dog looked at him and barked once on a high, clear note. It scrambled down from the couch and ran toward him, wagging an unruly tail, and as Grince squatted down it leapt up and put its paws on his shoulders, licking his ear until he laughed.

"Amazing. He likes you, and he doesn't take to many folk." Emmie's voice came softly from behind the thief. "He's five months old-the only one left of the last litter. I decided to keep him myself, because he looked so like Storm. His name is Frost-and if you want him, Grince, he's yours."

It had been a long time since Aurian had last healed a wing. She'd been forced to examine the healthy one first, taking its structure as her example and trying to make its injured fellow match it as best she could. Finally she straightened from her cramped position, stretched her spine, and rubbed her eyes. "There-how does that feel?" she asked Linnet.

"Better, I think." Carefully, the girl opened her wing, stretching the great feathered span out as far as the confines of her bedchamber would allow. "Why, yes." Her face brightened in a smile. "I can move it again. It feels as good as new1."

"Well, not quite," the Mage told her. "You'll need those flight feathers back before you can get airborne again, and I can't fix them, I'm afraid. You'll have to wait till new ones grow." Looking down at the winged girl, she shook her head.

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253.

"You took an awful chance, you know. You're extremely lucky not to have been killed. What was so desperately important that you had to risk your life to come here?"

Linnet shrugged-always a rash exercise for one of the Skyfolk in a cramped s.p.a.ce. A cup went spinning from the table, caught by a sweeping wingtip, and Aurian caught it just before it hit the floor. The winged girl took no notice. "I had to come-it was our only chance," the girl explained.

Aurian frowned. "But surely Queen Raven would have more sense than to send you . .."

"There is no Queen Raven...."

"What?"

Linnet flinched. "No, it's all right. 1 mean, she's all right- or she was when I left. It's just that she isn't Queen of Aerillia anymore."

'And why is that?"The Mage's voice was dangerously quiet.

"I'll try to explain, but I'm not sure I understand it myself," Linnet said. "In fact I'm not sure that anyone does, really- except the priests."

Aurian bit her lip, counted to ten, and reminded herself that Linnet was very young. "Linnet-just tell me what happened-please]"

"I told you, I don't really know. Suddenly Skua, the High Priest, developed powers of magic. He said that Yinze had brought back the powers of Incondor and the Skyfolk Mages. He said it was a sign from the G.o.ds, that Aerillia should be ruled from Yinze's Temple. He was backed by Sunfeather and the Syntagma, and there was a terrible battle against Queen Raven's Royal Guard-until Skua brought down lightning bolts from the sky and incinerated half of Raven's warriors."

Linnet shuddered. "It was dreadful. The Queen was far advanced in pregnancy at the time. She and Lord Aguila were forced to flee for their lives. In a matter of days the city had become a place of fear and suspicion. Lord Skua claimed that he could read people's minds, and that the wrath of the G.o.ds would descend upon those who still supported the Queen. Certainly folk began to disappear, and were never seen again. I was one of Queen Raven's ladies-in-waiting-that was her reward for my saving her when I was a little girl. I offered to stay behind and collect information, but after a while I got too scared. Skua's mind-reading claims were starting to ring true. I was going to flee and join the Queen in the new southern Skyfolk settlement, but then I thought of you. I was sure 254Maggie furey you were the only one who could help us, and so I headed north instead."

"And I'll wager you had some adventures, too," said Aurian with a kindly smile, "but they can wait for another day. You'll be tired now, after the healing, so I suggest you get a good night's sleep now, and we'll talk again soon."

"All right. And thank you, Lady-thank you so much for repairing my wing." Linnet looked up at the Mage, her eyes frank and pleading. "Lady Aurian-you will come back with me to Aerillia and help my people?"

Cold seemed to strike through Aurian's heart. Suddenly she felt old, and very weary. I wish people would stop asking me that, she thought. But Linnet's tale had stirred her suspicions. . . . "It looks very much as though I will," she told the girl.

Lost in thought, Aurian walked back toward her chamber-and went straight past the door. Forral was there, and right now she didn't want him asking any awkward questions, such as where was she going, and why. Linnet's tale had simply served to confirm her suspicions that Eliseth must have gone south. It would be just like the Weather-Mage, to usurp power in an alien city by manipulating people's l.u.s.t and greed from behind the scenes. Also, something about the situation that Linnet had described struck a chord with the Mage when she considered the events in Nexis of about a year ago. I can't quite put my finger on the connection, she thought, but a connection there is, or I'm a Mortal.

Well, there was one way to find out. Normal scrying wouldn't work, not across the ocean, but using the nearby standing stone, she would be able to take herself Between the Worlds. From there, she would be able to discover what was going on. .. .

"And you might also find out what happened to Anvar," said a little voice at the back of her mind, "which is why you really want to go risking your life on such a rash, insane venture."

"Oh, shut up," Aurian told it, and went to find s.h.i.+a.

Chapter 18.

The Way Through the Stone Ihe eerie darkness pressed close around Aurian, dimming even her Mage's sight. She could hear nothing save the boom and hiss of surf on rocks, somewhere below her and off to her left. Carefully, she altered her path away from the sound, away from where she guessed the cliff edge must be. s.h.i.+a accompanied her on that side, but that was no guarantee that the Mage might not miss her in the dark and go hurtling to her doom.

When she could feel that she had started to climb, Aurian knelt for a moment and touched the ground around her feet. When her fingers encountered short, soft turf instead of the tough and wiry dune gra.s.s she knew she had reached the hallow.

The Mage was uneasy. She had never known her night vision to fail like this before, yet in this place she was utterly blind. From the thunder of the surf there must be a stiff wind blowing in 256Maggie furey from the sea-indeed, she had felt its cold pressure on her left cheek all the way here-yet in this place not a breath of air stirred against her face. Well, what did you expect? she told herself irritably. You always suspected that this was one of the Gateways, where the barrier between the worlds grows thin and fragile-and that's exactly what you want and need. This strangeness only proves that you were right.

"Aurian, I can't come any further." s.h.i.+a's mental tones were taut with distress. "The magic-i have never felt anything like this. It forms a barrier I cannot pa.s.s."

"Don't worry," Aurian told her friend. "Where I'm going you couldn't follow in any case. Just stay there, if you will, and watch for my return."

"If you do return," the great cat muttered direfully. "You don't need me to tell you that this is an act of utter folly."

"You're right," Aurian told her briskly, "I don't. I already know that-but this is something I must do, s.h.i.+a. One way or another, I have to see him again. Take care, my friend-I'll see you soon." With these parting words, Aurian put all trtoughts of her companions firmly from her mind. Right now she must concentrate all her energies on the journey before her.

As she began to climb the steep slope of the knoll, the feeling of unease grew into fear, and finally to stark terror that became worse with every step she took. Soon she found herself beginning to tremble. Her heart raced, and her mouth became dry. "It's nothing but a cheap trick, to guard the Gateway," the Mage told herself firmly. She put forth all her power to s.h.i.+eld herself and clamped down firmly on the fear. Gradually, she brought the incipient panic under control, then banished it altogether.

Aurian reached the broad, level plateau where the monolith stood, and located the great stone by touch alone. As her fingers met the icy surface, the terror lashed out at her again, multiplied a hundredfold, but this time she was ready. s.n.a.t.c.hing the Staff of Earth from her belt, she raised it as if to block a physical blow-and cried out as a sharp, sizzling shock of energy ran up through her fingers. It was as if the Staff itself had turned on her and stung her. Suddenly the wood felt slick to the touch. There was a brief writhing sensation as though the serpents had come alive beneath her hand-and the Artifact slipped from the Mage's fingers to fall to the turf at her feet.

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Aurian's dismay had left her wide open to the terror of the Gateway. It hit her like a corrosive blast that gnawed at her will and her courage, driving her back down from the top of the mound, away from the stone. But her fear of losing the Staff was greater than any dread projected by some external, unknown force. The reeling Mage recovered herself and sh.o.r.ed up her fragile s.h.i.+eld with a desperate effort of self-mastery. Fighting her way back uphill against the barrier of fear was like trying to push against a hurricane, but inch by inch she crept forward until the Staff was within her reach once more.

The Mage hesitated, her fingers almost touching the wood. Tonight was the first time she had tried to wield the Staff since she had misused its powers beneath the Academy. Was the Artifact now protesting her claim to it? Would it reject her outright? She took hold of the Staff and almost wept with relief to feel a muted thrum of power vibrating through her hand. Though it was not the usual, welcoming leap of energy, it should be enough.. ..

As Aurian merged her own magic with that of the Staff, the Artifact blossomed with an emerald flare, sending the shadow of the stone flas.h.i.+ng across the plateau. Its power s.h.i.+elded her and reflected the fear back to its source. Aurian's night vision suddenly returned and the stars appeared, sparkling in the deep blue canopy above.

"First blood to me, I think," the Mage muttered grimly. With a sigh of relief she allowed the flames to die from the smooth dark wood with its twining serpents.

"Are you sure you should continue?" s.h.i.+a's voice sounded sharply in the Mage's mind. "Is it not too risky, to undertake this journey when you are uncertain of the Staff?"

Aurian shuddered to hear her own inner fears voiced by the perceptive cat. "I don't have any choice," she replied. Quickly, before she had time for more second thoughts, she found a place near the stone where the turf was sufficiently smooth and level to make a comfortable resting place. She lay down on her back with the Staff resting on her breast, her hands clasped tightly around its smooth-worn wood. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, willing herself to relax.

After a time, the Mage felt her inner form become discrete from her corporeal sh.e.l.l. She sat up and opened her eyes. There was no trace of the starry night above her. Instead the entire knoll was bathed in an eerie amber glow that seemed 258M. aggie F u r ey to emanate from the pillar itself. Aurian stood up, still clasping the Staff, whose earthly form had also been discarded. Without glancing back at the body she had left behind, she made her way to the tall standing stone. It was cold to the touch, though not unpleasantly so, and the power that emanated from it sent a thrilling tingle through her hand and arm. As the Mage exerted her will the stone beneath her hand vanished, leaving a dark, narrow doorway in the face of the monolith. Holding tightly to the Staff of Earth she stepped inside, and as she did so the doorway vanished behind her, cutting off all trace of the amber light outside.

Artifacts Of Power - Dhiammara Part 17

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Artifacts Of Power - Dhiammara Part 17 summary

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