Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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they're so gentle and warm. Wait a moment —Baiwun.None of these thoughts sound like my
thoughts; they're too nice. It's the drug .
A while later, a hand gently pressed Shkai'ra's shoulder. Yeolis were not a shy race about touching. It
was time to lie down; yes, as she moved, the world about her wasn't moving quite in the usual way. They
stretched out on the rugs, side by side, as if bedding down; on a whim she winked and flashed her tongue
at Megan, who sent back a dirty look. "You know, you're gorgeous," she said. It was true; the
candlelight in this tent showed new angles and new meanings in her wife's face that she'd somehow never
seen before. "I adore you beyond words. I want to slide my hands all over you, throw my arms around
you and run my tongue up inside you until you come like a plum bursting all over the—"
"Shutup !" Megan's sharp voice seemed almost to come from inside Shkai'ra's own skull; somehow she
found it impossible to disobey. "Ah," Peraila was saying, his voice carrying the same impossibly deep
resonance, "one who truth-drug makes talkahtive."
Gradually Shkai ra's thoughts slowed down, then stopped, like the moment before falling asleep, without
the drowsiness, unearthly quiet. Everything went very clear, like on a high mountain with bright sun; she
looked at the ceiling of the tent, hearing herself breathe, and her heart beat like a slow drum, noticing the
clear weaving of the canvas and each single thread. A great web; she floated in the midst of a sea of
threads, each one with an answer on the other end. Far away from the world, and yet closer than ever
before, she felt, and entirely safe.
What's your name? The words filled her head, as if a god were speaking to her soul, bypassing her will.
Her mouth answered; not speaking, but the words resonating in the web.Shkai'ra Mek Kermak's kin,
Senior in Stonefort .
Knownas…
Shkai'ra. Her tongue left out the click and the 'ghhh' sound foreigners couldn't pronounce.
Are you really from across the Lannic?Peraila. As her tongue answered, the sliver of her that could
still think thought,It must be like the fires of Zoweitzum if you lied the first time, or if it's enemies
who have you and you're carrying secrets …
Do you come to us meaning truly to fight for us and with us, loyal in action and will to us, to our
cause, to our enmity against Arko, without connections or loyalties to Arko or to anyone who
might wish us ill? The ritual question, quick and practiced; yet every word dropped down into her soul
like warm oil into an aching ear.
Yes. Hate those glove-wearing sheep-raping fat-assed children of diseased donkeys anyway. A
chuckle, deep as the ocean, from Peraila.Why ? He was curious.We had trouble with them. I'd like
this war even if Megan didn't want to get in on the kill. Rich, they are too. Good looting .
Well, that's it, then. The woman.It'll wear off in a while . They went on to Megan, soft words
soothing.Have you ever been truth-drugged before ? —Nyata. —Answer in Enchian, so I can
understand you. —All right. No. —How do you feel ?
Naked without my knives. Free of self-control. There is nothing that hurts here. Shkai'ra saw the
woman's smile, limitlessly beneficient, a goddess's; no need to struggle, just surrender, as they had. This
would go worse with Megan when she came out of it than it would for her, Shkai'ra knew; the Zak was
more attached to her tension.