by Sharon Green
"Is that why you had me check on the abandoned quarry ten miles beyond the far side of the city?" Bron asked, sudden understanding coloring his expression. "I remember thinking that properly weighted bodies thrown into the water would never come to the surface again—at least until the water had turned them completely unrecognizable. Is that where you intend to put them?"
"As soon as all clothing and jewelry are stripped from them," Kambil confirmed with a nod. "That way no one will know who they are even if the bodies are found. I doubt there are as many as a dozen ordinary people in and around this city who know the Five by sight, and that's who would find them: ordinary people. Those who would be able to identify the bodies won't even hear about the incident-assuming the bodies are found at all."
"And even if they are, we'll have been Seated by then," Selendi said with the satisfaction they all obviously felt. "We'll also have made good progress in ridding ourselves of anyone who might be willing to use the discovery against us, so we'll be doubly protected. When are we going to begin, and what do you have planned for Zolind?"
"I have something rather... complex in mind for our friend Zolind, and we'll begin about an hour before dinnertime," Kambil replied, letting his own satisfaction show through. "He always has dinner guests, which means our little production will have an adequate audience. I'll tell you the plan, and then you can all criticize it for flaws."
"Not all of us, happily," Homin disagreed rather dryly. "Poor Delin over there won't be criticizing or complaining ever again, for which I'm extremely grateful. If you hadn't put him under your control, I'm convinced he would have soon begun to whine."
"What do you mean, 'would have'?" Bron countered with a snort. "If he wasn't whining about being left out of things, I've never heard the sound. This way we have his strength and talent in the Blending, but otherwise don't have to put up with his feebleminded insanity. So what are we going to be doing to Zolind?"
Kambil leaned forward and told them, all the while marveling at the artificial personalities he and his grandmother had imposed on the three. The idea of doing that had been Grammi's, and it had come as a mild surprise that she'd perfected the technique on Kambil's father, who was her son. She'd begun her practice on her own husband, and when she'd accidentally ruined his mind had had to arrange his death. A different accident had made the death of her daughter-in-law also necessary, but by the time she worked on her son, she knew all the trouble spots which had to be avoided.
And Kambil had found the technique ridiculously easy to work with when they'd done his three Blendingmates. Their dysfunctional personalities had been pushed aside and overshadowed by calm, rational pseudo-egos, none of which could really be considered fully normal, but ones which were easily led and manipulated. The three subjects loved what they called their new selves, of course; what they had no idea about was the fact that they weren't permitted to do anything but love them.
Their ability to function in the group had been increased, though, so Kambil was serious about consulting their opinions. The four of them discussed Zolind's coming demise for quite some time, until Kambil announced that he'd arranged for a late-afternoon bite to eat. The interim meal would hold them until they returned to the house, and then they would dine long and well.
They took Delin along to eat as well, of course, and Kambil found himself regretting all over again that it hadn't been possible to adjust the man the way the others had been adjusted. He had to be kept in a sort of nonthinking limbo most of the time, and then had to be controlled carefully when his talent was needed. It was a lot of extra effort that should have been unnecessary—except for the deeply twisted thing Delhi's mind had been turned into. Kambil was beginning to nurse almost as much resentment against Delin's father as Delin felt....
But simple revenge would have to wait until more pressing matters were attended to. Kambil sat back at the end of the meal to study his people, for the most part satisfied with what he'd accomplished. That excuse his father had been given about why he 'd been put into a Blending ... Despite the care Kambil usually took to keep from frightening those he came in contact with, someone had seen through the facade and had become frightened anyway. Whoever it was had to have a respectable amount of power, and so was a dangerous enemy. As soon as Zolind and the current Blending—and certain of the rest of the Advisors—were seen to, Kambil would make it his business to identify the person, and then he would give the man his thanks for almost having ruined his life.
Once the meal was over everyone separated to prepare for the outing, Delin being taken care of by two of the servants. Their group tended toward brightly colored clothing, which simply would not do for their current undertaking. Not being noticed was more easily accomplished when people had drabness to overlook, and Kambil's groupmates never questioned the need to make things easier for him. That was one definite benefit which made up for the bother of having to be in charge.
When all five of them had reassembled in the hall, Kambil switched Delin over to simply being under control, then he initiated the Blending. Their entity formed at once, of course, and proved to be almost completely stable despite Delin's ... buried desire to rage, might it be called? Somewhere beneath all the control and passivity was the angrily terrified Delin personality, hating what had been and was being done to him.
But Delin had never been able to resist being taken advantage of, and now was no exception. After a moment his part of the entity settled down, and then their combined talents were able to search out and affect every member of the guard force around the residence. The guardsmen would continue to remain alert, but would see nothing of the five as they left and returned.
Then it became simply a matter of their walking out to the coach Kambil had arranged for earlier. The driver would be seen to later by the Blending, after Zolind and the Five were taken care of. Kambil had no idea how long their practiced group could remain Blended before its strength was completely drained, and now was not the time to experiment. After they were securely Seated there would be time enough; for now, he kept their Blending separated when there was no real need of it.
The drive to Zolind's estate was a long, boring one, as Zolind detested living close to the city. During the day it would have been difficult to hide the presence of their coach, but with darkness all around they simply had to avoid the lanterns which had been strung along the approach to the house. The arriving guests saw nothing that way, which was just as it was supposed to be.
Delin stirred uncomfortably where he sat on the floor of the coach, which told Kambil that the man's position needed to be shifted. The movement meant the man's body was in pain, and pain would detract from what he added to the Blending. For that reason Kambil had Selendi trade places with Delin, as she was the smallest of them despite her skirts. The exchange of places was made without argument, of course, and then they were able to Blend again.
The entity floated to the large house and inside, locating Zolind alter a few minutes in the salon beside the large dining room. It was clear not all of the Advisor's guests had arrived yet, and that despite the fact that almost twenty people stood about sipping wine. Zolind himself drank only tea, but never insisted that his guests do the same. The conversation was much too desultory, however, so the entity touched one of the men immediately around Zolind with a suggestion.
"Someone asked me today why the Seating ceremony for the new Blending hasn't been announced yet," the portly man who had been touched announced casually. "Since I don't really know the answer myself, I couldn't tell them."
"The answer is quite simple," Zolind replied obediently, now completely under the control of the entity. "The time of the ceremony hasn't been announced because there will be no ceremony. I wanted Adriari and her people to be Seated, and these others are not an acceptable substitute. Tomorrow I will announce that at the Advisory meeting, and none of the others will dare to disagree with me."
"My dear fellow, you can't be serious,
" the portly man protested, again at the urging of the entity. "Adriari and her group are gone, and these others have won the competitions. You can't simply discount that just because they aren't the group you favored."
"I can do anything I please!" Zolind growled in a louderman-normal voice, thawing the attention of everyone in the salon. Those immediately around him had remained silent, trying to disassociate themselves from the portly man who was so rash as to disagree with Zolind. The entity felt their disturbance clearly, and made no attempt to change it.
"I can do anything I please, including rejecting people I imply cannot stomach!" Zolind growled forcefully, glaring it the portly man. "That Delin Moord is one of them, and I've become convinced that Moord is the one responsible or Ollon's death. Someone has to be responsible, someone has to pay! Do you have any idea how much I miss—"
Zolind's words broke off as he obediently turned away from his guests, one hand covering his eyes to demonstrate his anguish. A roomful of glances were exchanged, making it plain that most of them were aware of Zolind's relationship with Ollon Kapmar. It was also clear that Zolind had never mentioned it aloud before, and more than a few of the observers were upset by Zolind's abrupt loss of self-control.
"You have our sympathy, of course, my friend, but you must be reasonable," the portly man was made to say gently after a moment. "If the winning Five isn't Seated, the commoner leaders will want to know why. Telling them that someone has to pay for Ollon's death won't satisfy them, not when there's no actual proof that it was this Moord fellow. And you don't have actual proof, do you?"
"I dislike the elder Moord, and I loathe his son!" Zolind was made to shout as he whirled back to face the fool who challenged him. "Have you somehow forgotten exactly who I am? I want someone to pay for Ollon's death, and therefore someone will pay! Are you too stupid to understand that?"
Zolind was now in a frenzy, his eyes opened wide as spittle sprayed from his. mouth. Those closest to him had taken a pair of steps back, some retreating even farther. The portly man was made to look horrified as he joined everyone else in recoiling, and that was allowed to increase the Advisor's agitation. Zolind began to shout incoherently, his face reddening dangerously as he accused everyone in the room of being in collusion against him. Then the Advisor gasped and clutched at his chest, faltering a moment before collapsing to the floor.
The portly man led some of the others in rushing to Zolind, but it was already too late. The entity had caused the Advisor's heart to fail, killing the man almost instantly.
"He's dead!" the portly man announced in a shocked whisper as he struggled to straighten up. "He's dead, and I feel responsible!"
"You were insane for arguing with him, but it isn't your fault that he's dead," one of the other guests grudged, relieving the entity of the need to cause someone to say that. "Losing Ollon obviously unhinged him, and we're all quite fortunate that he died. If he'd lived, his madness would have caused untold harm before someone found the courage to oppose him."
"If they'd ever found it," the portly man agreed with a sigh. "Zolind's autocratic manner has never been easy to disagree with, but tonight I simply couldn't abide letting the matter go. There would have been all sorts of trouble if the new Five failed to be Seated simply because Zolind disliked one of them, but the other Advisors would never have been able to overrule him."
' 'People have said for years that Zolind had a collection of serious indiscretions to hold over their heads," someone else put in. "Anyone opposing him would have been promptly arrested ... and now I wonder where that collection might have been kept."
Others joined the speculation as servants were called to attend to the body, and the most uniform emotion the group shared was an air of disappointment. The entity perceived that Zolind's guests disliked the idea of no longer being an intimate of so important a man, although "intimate" wasn't precisely the right word. Zolind had been really close to no one but Ollon Kapmar; the rest had been all but faceless company for a man who had disliked dining alone.
At that point the entity withdrew, and once it had returned to the coach Kambil dissolved the bond. He joined the others in taking a deep breath to celebrate their first success, then rapped on the coach roof to signal the driver to get them away from there. There was still one further chore to be done tonight, and then they would be able to return to the residence to eat and rest. Tomorrow ... well, that remained to be seen, depending on whether or not the rest of the Advisors held their meeting, or attended the farewell ceremony for Zolind.
Kambil smiled into the darkness as the coach began to love. There was no need for their entity to attend a farewell ceremony, but the full Advisory meeting was another matter entirely....
SIX
"I've been looking forward to this all day," Lanir said as he closed the bedchamber door behind us. "I felt tempted to taste your charms yesterday, but I dislike lack of response in a woman. I expected to have most of the day with you today, not realizing that I would be called away on business. Don't bother ringing for a maid. Helping you out of that gown will be my pleasure."
"First answer a question for me," I said, crossing most of the room before stopping and turning back to look at him. "My group was winning that final competition, and then suddenly we were unconscious. How did they do that?"
"Hilsom powder in your underclothes, which stayed undisturbed until the underclothes were shaken with Air magic, forced you out of touch with the power, and then Earth magic users helped the powder to put you to sleep," be answered easily enough as he followed me across the room. "That's what's usually done, although it's never been necessary in the final round before."
"And what became of my groupmates?" I asked, standing my ground as his arms began to circle me. "Were they all claimed by someone like you?"
"I have no idea what became of them, nor do I care," he replied, smiling down at me as his embrace slowly tightened. "And I believe you'll discover that there is no one else precisely like me. Raise your lips to mine."
"For what purpose?" I asked, flatly refusing to let my voice tremble. "I may be prepared to say goodbye to you and this vile place, but that doesn't necessarily call for a kiss."
"Are you trying to tease me?" he asked, his tone less than pleased. "If you are because you think I might enjoy it, allow me to assure you that you're wrong. Denial is not my idea of enjoyment, and can only bring you punishment. Although how the need for punishment can be possible after the orders you've been given ..."
"Have you finally noticed that I'm not as obedient as I'm supposed to be?" I asked in what I hoped was a mocking tone. "It's certainly about time, as the touch of you against my body is making me ill. Release me this moment, or you'll surely wish you had."
"How dare you!" he began to demand in a growl, and then his expression abruptly changed. Fear flashed in his eyes as he suddenly touched the power, but his burst of understanding came too late. I'd already applied a tiny line of flames to his forearms under his sleeves, which made him flinch back with a scream even as he opened his own talent wide.
"What have you done?" he choked out in a strangled whisper, cradling his arms in trembling hands. "You're opened to the power, but that's not possible! And you're so—"
"Strong?" I suggested, speaking the word he hadn't. "I would ask why that frightens you—if I weren't able to tell that you have no more than Middle talent. Doesn't that mean your title has to be changed to Seated Middle? I can't wait to tell that joke to everyone in the city...."
His scream interrupted before I could suggest the price of my silence, and then there were flames all around, trying to burn me to cinders. My defenses had automatically flared into being an instant before the attack, which in this case meant no more than simply keeping the ravening fire at a distance. Lanir just wasn't strong enough to overwhelm me, So I smiled faintly through the flickering evidence of his fear-filled anger.
"You can see that that isn't doing you a bit of good," I pointed
out gently. "If you're wise you'll be reasonable about letting me go, but first you'll have to convince me that you intend to keep to any bargain we happen to make, have no reason to trust you and every reason not to, so—" "No!" the man screamed with fists clenched, insanity beginning to peer out of his eyes. "I can't let you go after insisting that I be allowed to claim you! I'll look like a fool, and I'll become a laughingstock! Better to be thought clumsy for having turned you to ash—!"
And then his eyes widened with his effort, an effort I understood only after a very long moment. The fool was ignoring his limits and trying to take in enough power to notch me, which meant he really was insane. Middles weren't able to step past that natural block—
His third and last scream shook me so badly that I stumbled back, narrowly missing a collision with a table. Along with the scream had come the abrupt severing of Lanir's touch on the power, followed by the man's sitting down hard on the carpeted floor. By then he had stopped screaming, and I didn't need to see his black, fixed stare to know what had happened. He'd forced himself past his natural stopping place, and had burned himself out for his trouble.
I turned away to find a chair to sit down in, needing a moment to pull myself together. The fact that Lanir had taken himself out of my way permanently didn't bother me, but the screaming he'd done did. How soon would people come rushing in to see what had happened? And when they came, would I be able to protect myself from them? I wasn't sure, not when I didn't know how many there would be and what they would be capable of....
Trying to still the trembling of my hands occupied me for a few minutes, and then I began to wonder why no one had appeared yet. Surely someone had heard the screams, no matter how big that house was, so why hadn't they—The question died as the answer came so abruptly that I was suddenly enraged. No one had come after hearing the screams because they thought I was the one doing the screaming. They must have been very used to their employer's way of enjoying himself....