Crown Of Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

he would fully understand why the Eternal One let him be disabled.
    He'd returned with irrational fears that were clues to the memories he'd lost. Bladed weapons, anything made of gold—he understood why those things stole his breath. He'd returned with a knife scar on his chest, and in accessing Firebird's memories of Three Zed, he'd seen long golden corridors.
    But why did he fear pulsing red lights? He remembered little from that place, with one terrible exception. For three generations, a Shuhr family had pursued his own. A Shirak murdered his great-uncle. That man's son killed his uncles, and the grandson . . .
    In a black-walled conference room, surrounded by hostile observers, Micahel Shirak had admitted slaughtering Brennen's brother, sister-in-law, and their children. He forced Brennen's mind open and poured in a memory Brennen wished he could forget.
    Brennen clenched a hand. This would be a dangerous double game, to protect Firebird Mari while hunting down a Shuhr. He hoped he might catch Micahel Shirak. That cruel braggart ought to feel the anguish of being probed for secrets that might bring down his own people. Micahel's family still threatened Brennen's children, and their children, and theirs. Micahel might have brothers, or cousins. . .
    Brennen frowned. If only he could remember! The Shuhr tri-D summons, demanding he return and face justice, showed only Micahel, sitting at an obsidian desk, promising further destruction if Brennen didn't return. Regional command hadn't publicly released that summons.
    Laying a hand on the car's fender, he stared at the metal-spiked energy fence surrounding this parking zone. He caught an odd epsilon savor at the edge of his new, limited range. Something felt wrong, almost hazy, as if someone were epsilon-shielding their own presence.
    Brennen clung to his masquerade, resisting the urge to react. He had to convince the Shuhr he'd lost more ability than he actually had. He'd planted disinformation in the Sentinel College's records, rating himself barely psi-competent. No ES 32 would notice that vague presence. Hardly daring to hope his trap would bring in a Shuhr this quickly, he gripped his duffel strap and forced himself to play the concerned but unaware husband, depending on Shel and Uri for protec-tion. They knew the real extent of his injuries, of course. Special ()perations agents had to trust each other.
    Firebird leaned close to Tel, speaking softly. The slight young nobleman was half a head taller than Firebird, and her plain gray traveling suit was an elegant contrast to his gaudy outfit.
    Shel grabbed her sidearm. Uri hit an alarm on his belt at almost the same moment. They must have finally sensed the intruder.
    Brennen curled his hand around Tel's small defense blazer. A brilliant green energy bolt splattered on the door arch behind him, and a foul presence slid into the edge of his mind. He couldn't resist the probe without compromising his masquerade, and so—as planned—he let it take his arm muscles. Controlled from a distance by a lawless stranger's epsilon power, his own arm swung toward Firebird. His thumb slid against his will toward the firing stud.
    He seized his right wrist with his left hand and choked, "Get in, Mari." That was his private name for Firebird. If the Sentinel infiltration team was still in the area, this could be their chance—
    Where were they?
    He forced his rebel fingers open. Tel's little blazer clattered to the pavement.
    Uri, Shel, and the plainclothes guards fanned out. As Firebird scrambled into the passenger compartment, Brennen rose onto the balls of his feet and looked around. From some distance away came a pulse of gloating, of shields dropped to reveal epsilon power, a Shuhr agent tossing down a gauntlet. In that instant, Brennen saw himself through other eyes as an easy mark.
    He kept anger out of his surface thoughts, where the Shuhr might sense it, but deep in his heart he answered the challenge. No. This time, we will