Triangle

by Sara L Daigle

  “That’s a longer conversation.”

  “Are you doing anything right now … besides cleaning?”

  He smiled. “Good point. All right, you know all Azellians are psi, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, there are certain psi talents that are passed down from father to child in certain families. We don’t know why that is, but it has formed a strong piece of our societal structure. Those families that have these talents are considered to be ‘High Council’ families, the ones who currently rule Azelle. The rest simply have a variety of psi talents of varying strengths. You know what many of them are—able to read minds, to move objects without touching them, to see things in a distance even when not physically present, to sense others’ emotions, things like that.”

  “What’s your family talent?”

  “Psi healing,” Greg replied. “All of us Tenricths have the ability to soothe and calm others. Not all of us go into Healing, but a large number of Healers are Tenricth.”

  Tamara looked down at her tea. “Alarin’s is what?”

  “Charisma and coercive willpower. The Raderths are extremely charismatic and can literally force others to do their will, if they want it strongly enough. The effect doesn’t last, especially if you truly disagree with whatever they’re trying to do, but people often find themselves doing things they didn’t mean to do around a strong Raderth. It makes the Raderths very headstrong and stubborn as well. Most of them are pretty obnoxious.”

  “Alarin’s not like that.”

  Greg shrugged. “Alari is nicer than most Raderths,” he said. “And when he truly cares, he makes the effort to mitigate his behavior and inclinations. But don’t make the mistake of thinking he’s not a Raderth. He’s got their family talent in full measure.”

  Tamara remembered seeing Alarin force people to do things before; when Justern had been accused of raping a college girl, Alarin had compelled the young woman to remember what had happened. When Tamara read the young woman’s mind during the forced recall of the incident, it had led to Tamara’s brother’s acquittal on Azelle, although Earth authorities, without access to those mental abilities or memories, had not come to the same conclusion. The situation was still in flux, with the young woman’s family fighting to get Justern to pay for his “crimes” and Azelle flatly refusing to admit that there had been any culpability on Justern’s part—it was an unpleasant situation all the way around. Tamara pushed away thoughts of her brother and focused instead on Greg’s words. Alarin’s ability to force himself on others was a frightening talent, for sure, yet she knew, to the bottom of her heart, that he would not hurt her—any more than Greg would. “What about Merran?”

  “Merran is a Corina. He’s a channeling empath.”

  She frowned. “Like me?”

  “Not exactly. You aren’t a Corina, so your empathy takes on a different form than his. The Corina talent is very much about being able to receive and send huge amounts of psi energy in the form of emotion. Merran can channel emotion and manipulate it, project it back on itself, or turn it into something else entirely.”

  Tamara blinked. “I can’t do that. I mean, I can sense other people and sometimes make others feel what I am feeling, but not what you’re describing.”

  Greg shook his head. “Your empathy is different from Merran’s, so I would guess that your empathic ability came from the other side of your heritage, not your mother. It’s our understanding that human psi exists, but we don’t know much about it. Your psi is definitely Azellian overall, or you wouldn’t be able to hear us, or we you, but you don’t seem to have a family talent, not the way the rest of us do.”

  “Dad’s not psi,” Tamara objected.

  Greg shrugged. “He’s not psi the way we are, no, but he is also almost impossible for us Azellians to read, unlike most humans who are open books to us. He may very well have some kind of psi talents, considering your abilities. Or maybe you’re just expressing Azellian talents differently because you have a human father and it’s changing how your Azellian psi is expressed.”

  Tamara blinked and shook away the novel idea that her father might have some kind of psi talents. “Did my mother have a family talent? My birth mother, I mean, of course.”

  “She was a Dorvath, so she would have been clairvoyant, able to see some of the future and the links between actions and results. Not as strongly as Alari’s father, Galadrian, but enough to get a sense for where things are going next.”

  “I didn’t inherit that.”

  “No, it passes from father to child. Your father’s not Dorvath.”

  Tamara rubbed her eyes. “Wow. So complicated. What about Justy?”

  “He’s a Memaxthal, so he can project illusions. He’s strong enough to make you think you are somewhere else entirely than you are. Or hide himself when he doesn’t want to be seen.”

  Tamara blinked, remembering a few times while her brother had been on Earth when he’d essentially “disappeared” from a room or conversation. Had that been his talent? Each time, she’d thought he was just being subtle about leaving and she hadn’t noticed. “So he can literally go invisible?”

  “If he wants to, he can make you think he’s in a room, or not in a room, or he can even make you think he’s someone totally different from what he is visually.”

  “That’s scary. God, are all the High Council family talents that frightening?”

  “They can be. Yet each one has a weak spot, and each one of them can be defeated by someone who has access to other levels of perception. None of our talents work on any of the aarya, for example, or the Keepers, who spend all of their time with the aarya and have access to completely different levels of perception. Of course, for those of us umanaarya who are limited by our current level of perception and awareness, we are all trained quite carefully in what is and is not acceptable, as you know from our sessions.”

  Those endless training sessions, which had a stronger reason for occurring than she’d known. “So basically, I’m responsible for my own behavior.”

  Greg laughed. “Yes, exactly.” He gave her an affectionate mental hug. “You will be fine while I’m gone, Tam. Just do your focusing and meditating exercises and you won’t have any difficulty with your psi getting out of hand.”

  Tamara took another swallow of tea. “Yes, maybe, but I’m going to miss you anyway.”

  “It will go by quicker than you know.”

  “I hope so, because I’m already looking forward to you coming home.” Tamara cradled the mug between her fingers. “Can I, uh, ask you a question about your sister?”

  “Ida? Sure.”

  “What’s between her and Alarin?”

  Greg raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

  “I met her earlier today. She seemed nice enough to me, but Alarin got really upset about how she was behaving. He actually lost it. I didn’t understand what was happening at all.”

  “Lost it?”

  “He got really angry and went to confront Merran. They worked it out, but neither of them explained it to me, and now I’m really confused. I don’t know what to think about Idara or her relationship with Alarin, or his with me, for that matter.”

  Greg turned to pull a tin of cookies out of the walk-in pantry closet. From what Tamara could see, the pantry was as carefully organized as the rest of Greg’s apartment. Coming back out of the pantry, he pulled the top off the tin and tipped a few cookies out onto a plate. “Want one?”

  Tamara looked at the cookies and then up at Greg. “Is this your way of saying you can’t answer me?”

  Greg grinned at her. “Good guess, but no, I’m just trying to figure out where to start. It’s complicated.”

  “I’m just full of complicated questions today, aren’t I?”

  Greg laughed. “I don’t mind. I love teaching and you are a great student. I’m limited on what I can talk to you about when someone comes to me as a Healer, of course, but Ida is a different story. She’s my sister, not my patient. He
r relationship with Alarin was always weird. Our mothers arranged the match with each other and then forced Alari and Ida into it.”

  “I remember someone telling me that last semester. But I really can’t imagine anyone forcing Alarin into anything, especially not now that I know him.”

  “It was strange for all of us who know him. He’s never talked to me about it, probably because Ida’s my sister, but I suspect the only reason he agreed to the arrangement at all is because it was convenient at the time. As for how he feels toward you, you’ll have to ask Alari that. But I can tell you he certainly never acted toward Ida the way he does toward you. Alari tends to be very … protective of his lovers. He never was like that with Ida. Apparently, he is with you.”

  Tamara snorted. “Protective? I’m not sure I’d call it that. Jealous is more like it.”

  Greg put the lid back on the cookie tin, then turned and put the cookies away, closing the pantry door with an audible click. He turned back around and returned to his mug of tea, picking up a cookie. “I don’t know what happened or why, and it’s not mine to share if I did. But as for his relationship with Ida, it’s over. And she knows it. From what Ida told me about coming here, she wants to learn more about herself away from the pressures of our family, not chase Alari. No matter what she chose to tell our mother.”

  “I really didn’t get the impression that she was chasing Alarin when I met her today. Good to know I was reading her correctly. Alarin’s response made me wonder if I was missing something.”

  “You’re a pretty sensitive empath, Tamara. Trust your instincts, not what you think other people think. After I went away to Healer training, and Mother figured out I was never going to give her grandchildren, she put quite a bit of pressure on Ida to follow a certain path. Ida’s far too strong and opinionated for that. Probably why she and Alari never really worked out … they’re too much alike. As for how she feels now … Alari breaking up with her was the best thing that ever happened to her. It gave her a chance to be herself. Coming to Earth is opening up even more possibilities for her, too. It will be nice to see her truly acting how she wants, not how she thinks she has to.”

  Tamara could hear in his voice the affection Greg had for his sister, and she already knew the support he could—and did— offer to those he cared about. “I wish I had a brother like you,” she blurted without thinking about how that would sound.

  Greg chuckled. “Well, thank you, Tam, that’s very sweet. You do have a great brother, you know. Justy might be somewhat immature right now, but he’s really sweet and caring underneath it all. And he’s just as interested in seeing you become who you really are as I am.”

  “Oh, I know, I know. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Justy has been really great at keeping in touch with me since he left, and he has been wonderfully supportive and caring. I wish he could live closer so I could talk to him like this, though.” Her growing relationship with her recently discovered half-brother was one very bright spot from last semester. “No criticism meant about Justy, just appreciating what an awesome brother you make.”

  Greg gave her an affectionate mental hug and a mischievous grin. “You do know that even if we were related, I’m still going to Ather, right?”

  Tamara returned his hug with a brush of her shields against his. “Ha-ha, I didn’t think it would change anything. I’m just … well thank you for being a wonderful Healer and a good friend.”

  “You’re welcome, and thank you for being you too.” Greg handed her the plate of cookies. “And to celebrate our mutual awesomeness, do you want a cookie?”

  Tamara laughed, and they drifted on to other subjects.

  She lingered until the early winter twilight fell, the sun dropping behind the high silhouette of the mountains. Greg’s apartment didn’t look out over the mountains the way Merran’s did, but instead faced the glory of the other high-rises in downtown. Approaching nightfall announced its arrival through the twinkling fairy lights that sprang up in their windows. “It’s getting late,” she said, as she glanced at the clock behind Greg and slid off the chair. “I’ve got to get back. Alarin and I usually go get dinner at five-thirty.”

  Greg came around the counter to give her a physical hug. “Thanks for coming by, Tam. I’ll see you before I leave, I promise.”

  She returned the hug. “You’d better,” she warned. “We’re going to miss you.” She had to fight her momentary feeling of tears, then pulled herself together. Greg didn’t need an emotional scene. She took her leave more hastily than she wanted, trying to rein in her emotions—which Greg probably already sensed—and left his apartment, closing the door gently behind her.

  She got on the elevator, trying to hang on to the calmness that time with Greg always cultivated in her. It was one of the reasons she loved to spend time with the Healer. As she stood quietly on the descending elevator, she rested her head against the polished walls of the elegant interior, watching as the numbers marked the floors going down one by one.

  The elevator doors whooshed open on the first floor of the building and Tamara jumped. Merran stood in front of her, his sport jacket slung over a shoulder, his briefcase in his opposite hand. As usual, she hadn’t been scanning ahead of herself, so seeing him there took her by complete surprise.

  He studied her calmly and appeared unsurprised. He’d probably been aware she was in the building from the moment he walked in the door and penetrated the outer shields of the high-rise. “Hi,” he said, standing in the entrance of the elevator.

  “I, uh, didn’t expect to see you,” she said, getting over that first rush of shock with an effort.

  “Still not scanning ahead of yourself, I see.” His dark hair was ruffled, as though he’d had a hard day, which was very possible. Although it usually took quite a bit to get him to the point that he was continually running his hands through his hair. She felt a strong desire to smooth it down, and it made her jumpy. Tamara hadn’t spent private time with him in a long while, and it felt odd for it to be just the two of them here together.

  She flushed slightly. “I’m trying to get the hang of it, and most of the time I do, just not when I’m thinking about something else. It’s not automatic habit yet.”

  Merran smiled. “It will come with time, Tam.” It wasn’t quite a lecture, but come to think of it, her relationship with Merran had always been somewhat counselor-teacher-supervisor—despite the fact they’d been sleeping together.

  “You’re off early.” She stared at the bank of buttons. Merran stood in the doorway of the elevator, leaning against the doors to keep them from closing.

  “I have a meeting with Greg in an hour,” he said neutrally, not offering anything more.

  “To get him set up for going to Ather?” Tamara lifted her eyes to meet his. “He told me this afternoon that he was leaving.” She let her unhappiness with the situation show. Merran most likely had been the one to set it up. He and the Healer had a tendency to put duty before self—a way of thinking Tamara had never internalized. She understood it intellectually, but emotionally, it was much harder.

  Merran shrugged noncommittally, his eyes and mind guarded.

  “Why?” she asked, trying not to whine, but probably not succeeding too well. “We need him here.”

  “Not as much as the Atherans do. There aren’t many Healers who would risk their lives for Atherans.”

  “There’s a reason for that. They aren’t very nice to non-Atherans.”

  “They are no more xenophobic than humans are.”

  His tone remained neutral, but she winced anyway. There wasn’t anything to say to refute his comment, so she took refuge behind anger. “What if he gets sick and dies? Have you thought about what that’s going to do here? Greg may be the only Healer willing to risk his life for Atherans, but he’s also the only Healer willing to spend time on Earth.”

  “There’s another Healer on Earth now.” Merran stepped fully into the elevator and tapped the button to the floor just below his. This
wasn’t the elevator he normally took to get to his apartment. That elevator was a dedicated one, with a complete security system to get to his penthouse apartment. Tamara knew there was a staircase from his penthouse apartment that went down to the main levels. She’d never seen him take that route before, but apparently he was today. Probably so he could spend time with her. That thought made her uncomfortable.

  “What are you doing?”

  Merran raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to discuss this in the elevator? Besides, I have to get changed. I don’t particularly want to stand around in my business suit all day. It’s not that comfortable.” He loosened his tie and pulled it away from his neck.

  Tamara felt a curious sense of panic, and the only thing she could think was that Alarin wouldn’t like it. “I can’t go with you up to your apartment,” she blurted, not thinking about how her words might be received.

  Merran gave her a look. “Afraid I’m going to ravish you the moment we step into the apartment?”

  She blushed furiously. Not ten minutes ago, she was wondering when she was going to get a chance to get him alone to talk to him and now he was standing in front of her … confusing her. I’m not ready to talk to him, not yet. But with Merran, who knows when the next time will come around? She cleared her throat. “No, no, of course not.”

  A grin hovered at the edges of his mouth, but he did not let it express itself fully. “I think you don’t mean that.” He gave her a look that said she was leaking more than she meant to.

  She blushed harder. “We, uh, need to talk.”

  “Then come up with me and talk while I get ready for my meeting with Greg. I promise to behave.” She suddenly felt silly. It was Merran. She knew Merran, and forcing her would never cross his mind. But then, forcing her wasn’t entirely what she was worried about. Her confusion increased.

  She didn’t say anything as the elevator doors slid open to reveal the hallway on the floor just below the penthouse. Merran stepped out of the elevator and walked to the entrance of the staircase that led up to his apartment. He went through the usual security protocols to open the doorway to the stairs, with Tamara right behind him. They didn’t speak again until Merran unlocked the doors that led into his residence, revealing the spread that was Merran’s penthouse apartment. It was messy, for Merran, with books and papers lying around on the coffee table in the living room and clothes scattered in various places. “You’ve been busy,” she commented, looking around the cluttered space.