by Sharon Green
"Not until I've had my share of that water," he answered her demand that he leave, spotting the towel cabinet and starting for it. "I feel singed from head to foot, not to mention broken and stomped on and covered in old sweat. I need that bath, but don't let me hurry you. Stay as long as you like."
Vallant had meant to sound casual and uncaring, but somehow the words came out more as an invitation than a challenge. Obviously he found the girl even more attractive than he'd first realized, but her reply helped to take care of that. She'd gotten out of the bath while his back had been turned, and now stood muffled in a towel.
"I don't care what you need, or even who you are," she came back, sounding as sharp-tongued as any harridan he'd ever met. "This bathhouse belongs to me, and I want you out of it this minute. If you refuse to leave, I'll call the guardsmen and have you arrested for breaking in here."
Well, of course the bath house belonged to her, how else could she justify ordering him out? Never mind that all the property belonged to an elderly widow, he probably wasn't supposed to know that. It bothered him that the girl would lie, but he'd obviously have to get used to being lied to by beautiful women.
So he said, "I didn't break in, I walked in," at the same time turning to look at her and beginning to remove his shirt. "And if you own this house, I was told you'd be expectin' me. I'm Vallant Ro, here in this accursed town to test for somethin' I never wanted. If you dislike havin' me here, you can thank the fools in our government for my presence. If not for them, I'd already be on my way back home."
Vallant felt a good deal of satisfaction at her appalled expression, certainly a result of having heard he was in the midst of testing for High. Most people refrained from starting up with strangers in any way, because it was impossible to know how strong their talent was simply by looking at them. This girl had started an argument with him anyway, but ought to be regretting it right now. Vallant was sure she would be, but her next words proved she didn't learn very quickly.
"I'm going to speak to someone about having you put elsewhere," she announced in a voice that trembled slightly. She'd also turned to the wall with supposed ladylike modesty when he began to take off the rest of his clothes, probably trying to impress him with the gesture. "You haven't the first idea about civilized behavior, and I refuse to have you in my house a moment longer than absolutely necessary. And if they can't find another place for you, I hope you'll have to sleep in the street!"
Vallant was too busy finally getting himself into blessed water to answer the girl's silly tirade, and by the time he came up again she was gone. He'd been ready to tell her that he knew she didn't own the house, but he'd have to save that for the next time they met. Which was just as well, since he was more ready for soaking than for arguing. So he moved through the water to the place the girl had been relaxing in, set his head into the headrest, then with a sigh let all his muscles release. He'd been tensed up for so long and for so many different reasons…
The warm water was delightful, and he closed his eyes even as he wondered again why he never minded the confines of a bath house. Every time he relaxed in one the same question arose, but he'd never found an answer. Other places could twist him into knots in an instant, but bath houses, even small private ones like this, never bothered him at all. The situation made no sense, and he really wanted to get to the bottom of it. Having the answer might help him with his problem elsewhere … especially since he'd never been able to talk to anyone else about it … admitting his weakness to others appeared to be beyond him…
But falling asleep proved to be anything but beyond him. With his eyes closed Vallant simply drifted off, floating away to a world where there were no problems. He stood again on the deck of the Sea Queen, the wind playing in his hair, gleaming water all around and as far as the eye could see. He was just about to turn to his crew and give the necessary orders, when someone dropped a belaying pin. But it wasn't a belaying pin, and it wasn't one of his crew.
Vallant opened his eyes to see that a stranger had entered the bath house, a man dressed in the most foppish clothing he'd ever seen. He also seemed to be carrying another outfit of the same sort, which made his purpose in coming in more than clear.
"Common courtesy suggests that you knock before comin' into a bath house that's occupied," Vallant said in annoyance over having been yanked back to the real world. "Or don't you know what that sign on the door means?"
"There was no sign on the door, but common is certainly the proper word," the fop returned in a baritone so pettish that Vallant expected the man to start fluttering a silk hankie. "Your courtesy is very common, my man, but I haven't the strength to argue with you. Nor do I intend to share that bath. I'm accustomed to bathing alone as a gentleman should, so you will take yourself out of there at once."
"Will I," Vallant murmured, studying the fool a bit more closely. His height was close to Vallant's own, but the delicate motions of his hands suggested there was nothing but flab under those ridiculous but very expensive clothes. Vallant had seen fops like this one before, the useless sons of those who considered themselves noble. He needed a real man's experience with life to get that petulant, little-boy look off his face, but chances were good that the fool would die of old age before that happened.
"What if I decide I don't want to get out of this bath?" Vallant drawled, letting his measuring stare tell the fop what he thought of him. "You'd then have to decide between throwin' me out and waitin' until I was ready to go. I really wonder which one you'd choose."
The fop colored at the very clear implication that he'd never try to throw Vallant out by himself, but he wasn't stupid enough to deny the claim. Instead he stiffened in insult, then straightened to his full height.
"A real gentleman makes his choices without being influenced by the lower classes," he retorted, the words as stiff as his stance. "If I had the strength I'd make an issue of your crudity, but at the moment I'm too badly in need of that bath water. Tomorrow, after I've had the opportunity to rest, we can discuss this matter again."
And with that he turned and walked toward the towel cabinet, leaving Vallant unexpectedly surprised. The fop had been embarrassed by what Vallant had said, but he hadn't really backed down. He'd obviously decided instead to share the bath, and since there was enough room for another six or seven people, the decision wasn't unreasonable. But to lower himself that far, the man must really be played out…
"I think I've been blind as well as insensitive," Vallant said with sudden insight, sitting up in the molded part of the bath bottom. "You're an applicant just the way I am, and you're too tired because you just passed your test. What did they do to force you to participate?"
"The Blending refused to listen to my mother's very reasonable and courteous request," the man answered, slamming the cabinet door after removing a towel. "Now they dare to threaten me with the unthinkable, but I refuse to be intimidated. I will find a way out of this insanity, and return to where I belong."
"It looks like we have somethin' in common after all," Vallant conceded as he rose to his feet. "I also intend goin' back to where I belong, so let's talk later. I'm Vallant Ro, Water magic."
"Lord Clarion Mardimil, Air magic," the man grudged, apparently finding the conversation distasteful but necessary. "And yes, let us indeed compare notes later. Getting free of this horror would be worth any price. A pity it can't be accomplished with gold."
"What makes you think it can't be?" Vallant asked, automatically ignoring the man's title as he stepped out of the bath and used what was left of his talent to remove the water from his body and hair. He sent it back to the bath with more effort than it had ever taken him, showing how tired he really was. He then picked up the towel to use on the bottoms of his feet, and that was an effort as well.
"I never thought about offerin' gold, which makes me feel like a fool," Vallant continued, looking at the man Clarion thoughtfully. "Since I can afford to pay any amount they care to name, and everybody knows bribin' is t
he largest industry here in Gan Garee, I wonder why I didn't think of it."
"Possibly you didn't think of it because you dislike wasting your time," Clarion answered sourly, beginning to remove his eye-hurting clothing. "I, on the other hand, must enjoy it immensely, as I spent much too much time engaged in the useless practice. If there's an answer, it definitely lies elsewhere."
"There has to be an answer," Vallant said, shaking his head stubbornly against the suggestion that there wasn't. "High practitioners are supposed to be willin' to do the job, so those who are unwillin' have to be let go at some point. That's the point we need, as long as it isn't one that involves dyin'…"
The comment was true enough that Clarion made no attempt to add to it. Or maybe the man was just too intent on getting into the bath water. Vallant had been dressing slowly while Clarion undressed, and with the last of his clothing tossed aside Clarion made for the water. Once again Vallant was surprised, because the man certainly wasn't built like your ordinary fop. His musculature was almost as good as Vallant's own, which had been developed by long years of hard work on the decks of various ships.
"We'll speak again later," Vallant said when he'd finished dressing, gathering up his dirty clothing but leaving the towel for the servants to see to. "Enjoy your bath."
Clarion made a sound of some sort that might have been agreement, so Vallant took it like that and simply left. If the man needed to relax as badly as he had, leaving him alone was the most considerate thing he could do. And Vallant meant to be very considerate to someone who apparently had access to the Blending. If they came up with the right thing to say, that access might well get the two of them out of that waking nightmare.
But in the meanwhile, Vallant trudged back to the main house wondering how long it would be before dinner was ready. He was hungry enough to eat a shark, teeth, fin and all. And maybe he'd even see that girl again. She was probably one of the servants, and would be embarrassed at the need to serve him. He'd let her squirm for a while, thinking he might have her fired, but then he'd… Let's see, just what would he most enjoy doing to - or with – her…?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Clarion stood in the middle of the resin room, sweating so hard that an observer would have thought him a common manual laborer. His talent still sealed off all those tiny holes that had tried to suck the air out of the room, and he also continued to pull down the air from the high ceiling so he might breathe more easily. Beyond that he was frantic, for he couldn't seem to think of a way to reach the only exit from that room. The small door in the wall so far above his head, the door he couldn't reach because there was nothing to stand on…
Nothing to stand on. Clarion's searching mind suddenly seized that phrase, just as if it were the answer he'd been looking for. But that was foolish. How could someone stand on nothing? There had to be something, and if there were, then that person would be standing on-
"Standing on the nothing that's only something to a person with Air magic," Clarion muttered, actually disgusted with himself. He should have seen that at once, considering the experience he'd had with the phrase during childhood. Mother would come into his apartment and find him playing with his magic, and would ask him what he was doing. "Nothing, Mother," had been his usual answer, mostly to avoid one of those lectures on what a gentleman of quality did and did not do to fill his time. He should have remembered sooner…
But remembering still wasn't getting him out of there. The nothing he had to stand on was obviously supposed to be air, but simply thickening it enough to hold him wasn't the entire problem. He also had to keep the air from being drawn out of the room, as well as hold it near him so that he might breathe. Any one or two of those things might be managed, but all three? He could feel the strength draining from him by the moment, so even two tasks might soon be beyond him. What was he to do?
Fear tried to take hold of him again, but he brushed it aside almost impatiently. For the first time in his life he was expected to do something for himself, and as much as he detested the situation he also refused to lose to it. More than his life was at stake, since a man was nothing without his pride. He would take a moment to think things through, and only then would he act.
Clarion straightened to his full height, and began by examining the matter logically. He still had the strength to do two of the tasks necessary to free himself, so the obvious first question was which of the three actions were basically unnecessary? He couldn't very well dispense with breathing, and if he released the thickened air in front of the holes, he'd not only have nothing to breathe, but also nothing to work with.
But that left thickening enough air to climb on as the unnecessary act, which just wasn't so. He needed to get himself out of that room in order to survive, and simply standing there would certainly not accomplish it. Too bad there wasn't another means of escape, but obviously there couldn't be. The only other door was the one he'd come in by, and it was tightly sealed and locked-
Clarion paused for a moment with his brows raised, realizing that that wasn't entirely so. It was true the door had to be sealed if no further air was entering the room around its edges, but he'd seen both sides of the thing and hadn't noticed any sort of locking mechanism. With the building material being resin it wasn't likely there was any interior mechanism, so maybe the door wasn't locked…
That brought him to another line of thinking entirely, specifically what sort of effort it would take to break the seals. Opening the door without any inner handholds wasn't as impossible as he'd thought at first, not when he looked at the problem from the point of view of his talent. The matter of the seals did bother him, however, because they were sure to add a drag on the door that could mean the difference between opening it widely enough and simply moving it a little. Clarion considered the matter for another moment, then concluded that he had very little choice.
"And it will require quite a lot of strength, so I'd best begin at once," he muttered, taking his air supply with him as he walked to the stool. He might turn out not need the thing, but opening the door only to have it close again before he could reach it wasn't to be considered. Better to be prepared for all contingencies at the outset…
Happily the stool proved to be fairly light, so he would have little trouble pushing it into the doorway with his talent once the door was open. Clarion placed it directly against the wall a good number of feet to the left of the door, where it would hopefully be out of the direct line of his efforts. Those efforts would be at maximum strength, and anything with less than significant weight would certainly be caught up.
Along with the sealed door, Clarion hoped. He was very much tempted to doubt his plan, but couldn't afford the distraction. Time was running out, and soon the air he'd saved would become completely unbreathable. He was already beginning to detect a taint in it that threatened to make him dizzy, which meant he had to act now.
Pushing away all doubts and fears, Clarion gathered up every bit of air in the room and forced it together in front of the door. That left him able to breathe from the edge of the mass, while at the same time left nothing that could leak out of the now-unblocked holes. He forced the mass harder and harder against the door, compressing it so tightly that he soon withdrew his breathing supply. When that happened he quickly released the mass with a snap, also pulling with every ounce of his talent's strength.
And the sudden rushing away of the air around the door did manage to pull the door open behind it! There had been a momentary drag and then a sucking snap as the seals were forced open, and then the door flew open violently against its stops. Clarion himself was fighting to keep from being swept back at that moment, which meant the door would have swung closed again before he could reach it. But with the opening of the door came a rush of new, fresh air, which he immediately grabbed and thickened and used to push the waiting stool into position by the door jamb.
The returning door tried to knock the stool out of its way, but Clarion had anticipated that and used his talent to
keep the stool in place. If the door closed he'd have to start all over again, but this time with most of his strength already spent. Clarion swiped at the sweat on his face with the sleeve of his coat, forced himself into motion, and reached the door as quickly as possible. Opening it wide again would normally have taken very little effort, but right now Clarion could only just get it done. Then he staggered out into the hall and to the wall opposite the door, where he let himself fall slowly to a seated posture on the floor.
Clarion spent a few moments simply breathing, the only effort that wasn't currently beyond him. Then he heard approaching footsteps, and looked up to see the man from the outside room coming over with a cup in his hand.
"Don't worry, sir, it's all finished now," the man said soothingly as he stopped to crouch beside Clarion. "You've completed the test successfully, which means you're due congratulations. And I'm certain you're in need of this."
He held out the cup, and despite Clarion's reservations he couldn't refuse to take it. Every drop of moisture in his body must have fled in the form of sweat, and the need to replace even some of it had become a desperation. Clarion gulped the liquid, at first thinking it was water, but simple water had never been that refreshing. By the time he lowered the emptied cup, a trickle of strength was already beginning to return to him.
"This vileness will not go unnoticed," he said at last to the man watching him, finally able to voice his anger. "When my mother hears of what was done to me, the next ones to hear of it will be certain members of the Blending. After that you people will be properly punished, and you can be certain that I'll be present to watch. Get someone to fetch my trunk and summon a coach. I'm going to my house now."
"A coach has already been sent for, and your trunk will be on it," the man responded as he took back the emptied cup. "It won't be your own house you'll be going to, however, and you won't be discussing this test with anyone at all. There are further sessions you'll be required to attend now that you've passed the initial test, and not even the entire Blending can excuse you from them. Hasn't anyone explained this to you?"