Читать книгу Blindfold - Kevin J. Anderson, Брайан Герберт - Страница 34

The promenade doors to Guild Headquarters split open, leaving Kalliana to stand in their center. A thin fingernail of cold breeze scraped along her white cotton robe. She straightened her green sash around her narrow waist. Her translucent skin flushed in the chill air as she stepped barefoot toward the plaza. The gold ceremonial collar felt heavy on her shoulders.

She saw the crowd, saw the accused, and was reminded again of Eli Strone—but this skinny young man looked so different, so quiet and lost, like a terrified waif. He insisted he was not guilty. However, Strone had also been certain of his own innocence, convinced that he had done nothing wrong. A Truthsayer could not judge on the basis of outward appearances. Because Troy Boren looked so unlikely, he seemed paradoxically more suspect.

Kalliana came forward and waited as one of the Guild chanters listed the case and the details, describing the crime of which Troy had been accused. As the chanter summarized, the crowd booed and jeered. Kalliana frowned. They needed to be reminded that the accused was innocent until she pronounced him guilty.

If she pronounced him guilty.

She came forward, an angel in white, holding the power of this man’s life in her hands. She received one of the sky-blue capsules of Veritas from its ornate brass-and-copper box, the small pill that protected Atlas from the deceptions of criminals. She popped it into her mouth, cracked it, and swallowed, taking a deep breath.

“If you’re innocent,” she said to Troy Boren, “you need not fear the truth.”

He drew a quick breath and answered in a quiet voice that no one else could hear. “I’m not afraid,” he said. “I am innocent.”

Kalliana tried not to show that fear engulfed her as well. She hoped that her exposure to Strone hadn’t set up echoes in her mind that might dampen her telepathic abilities. She felt the power of the Veritas surging through her, but she had difficulty focusing her thoughts.

Kalliana reached out and placed both of her hands flat against Troy’s temples. She closed her eyes as he blinked up at her like a wounded and confused animal.

She worked to sharpen her truthsaying ability into a usable tool, then went inside Troy’s thoughts, tentative and skittish. She brushed the surface of his memories, unwilling to go deep—and there she found it sitting like a black stain on the top of his mind: a guilt, a fear.

She probed deeper, feeling herself stiffen and grow even more wary, afraid to see—but it was her duty. She was a Truthsayer. She had to see.

She looked into Troy’s memories for just a glance, a snatch, a vision—

—and saw the sprawled body, saw the blood, heard the scream echoing in his mind. My God, there was so much blood.

The body lying there in the dim orange light.

The blood.

The overpowering guilt.

Kalliana froze, trembling until her shuddering became so violent she could not go deeper. She didn’t have the strength to probe for clearer details of the actual murder, but the answer was obvious to her. Too obvious.

She pulled back, jerking her hands away and cried out in a hoarse gasp. “Guilty,” she said. “Guilty!”

Troy’s face drained completely of blood. “No,” he whispered. “You’re wrong.”

But Kalliana staggered away, hiding from him. She did not wish to see any more. “Guilty,” she said again, then fled into Guild Headquarters, to safety.