Jenna," he gasped weakly. "What has the Faith done this time?"
Jenna stared but no answer came and suddenly, seemingly instinctively, his left hand shot out to grab a small node on the panel, gripping it tightly so that he dangled there. This, Slowhand found strange, because there was no way - instinctively or otherwise - that he would grab such a device having seen the kind of power it channelled. Sure enough, his whole arm buzzed with a strange energy that spread through his bones to his ribs, but however much he wanted to he found he couldn't let go. In fact, he suddenly realised, his other arm was reaching for the opposite node.
Slowhand felt a bolt of panic. He stared down at Fitch and saw the mage grinning coldly up at him. Damn it, it was the threadweaver who had made his arm lash out. And now he was forcing him to raise the other.
Querilous Fitch was in his head.
Below, Jenna snapped her gaze from Fitch to her brother and then back again, for a moment uncertain what was happening - but then it dawned on her. If his right hand connected with the other strut he would complete the circuit, and if that happened his whole body would be channelling the energy of the panel. Slowhand didn't want to know what would happen to him if it did. But the fact was, in his current position, there was nothing he could do to stop it.
His hand rising jerkingly, face twisted and sweating profusely, fighting against Fitch's will, he looked desperately at Jenna. His sister was clearly uncomfortable with what was happening, but it seemed her conditioning was preventing her from doing anything about it.
Fight it, sis, Slowhand thought. Help me .
And as if she had heard his plea, her gaze snapped to him once more, her brow furrowing deeply.
Decide who and what's important to you , the archer urged. Make your choice .
Suddenly Jenna was struggling with Fitch, trying to turn him away from Slowhand, to break his hold. But despite his frame, the threadweaver seemed to be as strong in body as he was in mind, and would not be turned. As the struggle continued, so did Slowhand's, his grip no more than inches away from the second node now. Groaning, he tried to fight against Fitch, but whatever part of his mind the threadweaver was manipulating it was inaccessible to him. Slowhand craned his neck to watch as his right arm rose ever upward and then suddenly spasmed in shock as it made contact and completed the circuit. The effect was agonising and the archer screamed and bucked, held as the current locked all of his muscles, seemingly gluing him to the panel. But as his body danced, he nevertheless managed to form one word in a guttural tone.
" Jennnnnaaaa ..."
Below, Jenna continued to struggle with Fitch but then, as if he had tired of a dog snapping at his ankles, he snapped his hand to the side and Jenna was thrown away from him to slam heavily into a pile of crates. Some of the crew turned, shocked that their Captain had been treated in such a way, but it was clear that none of them would do anything about it - dare challenge the threadweaver - and they continued to work. For her part, Jenna stared daggers at her so-called lieutenant, wiping a spot of blood from the side of her mouth. But for the moment she was evidently too weak to pick herself up and retaliate. If she even dared take Fitch on.
Slowhand realised that if he were going to live he had to get out of this himself. Thankfully, as Fitch had used some of his energy to throw Jenna aside he had felt a fleeting and slight reduction in the threadweaver's hold. Enough for him to be able to pull his right hand away from the contact panel. If he could work on that...
Slowhand moaned with effort, not only of trying to pull his hand away but also trying to make his intent as little obvious as possible. If Fitch spotted what he was doing, he had no doubt that his hand would be struck back to the panel in a second - and then he would be a dead man.
Slowly, though, it began to work and
Jenna stared but no answer came and suddenly, seemingly instinctively, his left hand shot out to grab a small node on the panel, gripping it tightly so that he dangled there. This, Slowhand found strange, because there was no way - instinctively or otherwise - that he would grab such a device having seen the kind of power it channelled. Sure enough, his whole arm buzzed with a strange energy that spread through his bones to his ribs, but however much he wanted to he found he couldn't let go. In fact, he suddenly realised, his other arm was reaching for the opposite node.
Slowhand felt a bolt of panic. He stared down at Fitch and saw the mage grinning coldly up at him. Damn it, it was the threadweaver who had made his arm lash out. And now he was forcing him to raise the other.
Querilous Fitch was in his head.
Below, Jenna snapped her gaze from Fitch to her brother and then back again, for a moment uncertain what was happening - but then it dawned on her. If his right hand connected with the other strut he would complete the circuit, and if that happened his whole body would be channelling the energy of the panel. Slowhand didn't want to know what would happen to him if it did. But the fact was, in his current position, there was nothing he could do to stop it.
His hand rising jerkingly, face twisted and sweating profusely, fighting against Fitch's will, he looked desperately at Jenna. His sister was clearly uncomfortable with what was happening, but it seemed her conditioning was preventing her from doing anything about it.
Fight it, sis, Slowhand thought. Help me .
And as if she had heard his plea, her gaze snapped to him once more, her brow furrowing deeply.
Decide who and what's important to you , the archer urged. Make your choice .
Suddenly Jenna was struggling with Fitch, trying to turn him away from Slowhand, to break his hold. But despite his frame, the threadweaver seemed to be as strong in body as he was in mind, and would not be turned. As the struggle continued, so did Slowhand's, his grip no more than inches away from the second node now. Groaning, he tried to fight against Fitch, but whatever part of his mind the threadweaver was manipulating it was inaccessible to him. Slowhand craned his neck to watch as his right arm rose ever upward and then suddenly spasmed in shock as it made contact and completed the circuit. The effect was agonising and the archer screamed and bucked, held as the current locked all of his muscles, seemingly gluing him to the panel. But as his body danced, he nevertheless managed to form one word in a guttural tone.
" Jennnnnaaaa ..."
Below, Jenna continued to struggle with Fitch but then, as if he had tired of a dog snapping at his ankles, he snapped his hand to the side and Jenna was thrown away from him to slam heavily into a pile of crates. Some of the crew turned, shocked that their Captain had been treated in such a way, but it was clear that none of them would do anything about it - dare challenge the threadweaver - and they continued to work. For her part, Jenna stared daggers at her so-called lieutenant, wiping a spot of blood from the side of her mouth. But for the moment she was evidently too weak to pick herself up and retaliate. If she even dared take Fitch on.
Slowhand realised that if he were going to live he had to get out of this himself. Thankfully, as Fitch had used some of his energy to throw Jenna aside he had felt a fleeting and slight reduction in the threadweaver's hold. Enough for him to be able to pull his right hand away from the contact panel. If he could work on that...
Slowhand moaned with effort, not only of trying to pull his hand away but also trying to make his intent as little obvious as possible. If Fitch spotted what he was doing, he had no doubt that his hand would be struck back to the panel in a second - and then he would be a dead man.
Slowly, though, it began to work and
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