Competitions

by Sharon Green

  And there would be nothing the Advisors could do about it. Bron’s smile changed to a grin as he pictured the way they would all assure the Advisors how loyal and obedient they would be once Seated. That would mollify and silence all protests from the Advisors, but once their Five was Seated their first official action would be to arrest that pack of fools. Simply dismissing them and sending them home would be a good deal more satisfying, but Delin said they were too dangerous to be treated lightly.

  Bron’s grin disappeared as his thoughts turned to Delin Moord, high lord and Earth magic practitioner. Delin might have been the one to first suggest that they go against the Advisors wishes, but Bron couldn’t swear to that. For some reason he thought of it as his own idea, one that Delin simply supported. Bron sometimes found himself confused in Delin’s presence, but most often he felt flattered. Delin’s power and social standing were a bit higher than his own, but it was always clear that Delin admired him. Most certainly as he should.

  And Bron was certainly the leader of the group that everyone looked up to. Delin made that clear every time they got together without the agent, just as he quietly took over handling things when the agent did happen to be there. Lord Rigos and his high-handed ways tended to upset Bron, and it was a relief to have Delin handle the man for him. Especially since Delin made no effort to keep control.

  Bron smiled again, pleased that Delin’s loss was his gain. Almost every member of the nobility Bron knew was as ambitious as he to gain independent gold and power, but not Delin. He seemed content to let others take the lead, which was probably very wise of him. As unassuming as the man was, he’d never get very far.

  But the carriage was moving too slowly, Bron suddenly noticed. A glance at a clock before leaving Nialla’s house had shown that Bron was running late as usual, something his driver should have known without being told. He’d certainly have to dismiss the man tonight, no matter that the low-class peasant had worked for him for years. The man deserved to be dismissed, but now he needed to be hurried.

  Bron leaned forward to shout at his driver, picturing how upsetting Lord Rigos would be when Bron walked in late again…

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Selendi Vas, Air magic

  “Selendi, dear, why are you rushing around like that?” Mother asked from where she sat at her precious loom, paying more attention to the weaving than to her own daughter. “I did remind you of your appointment just when you asked me to, you know.”

  “No, Mother, I don’t know any such thing,” Selendi retorted, throwing the scarves she didn’t want to the floor. The chest was piled high with them, every scarf ever bought except for the one she wanted. “You were supposed to have reminded me over an hour ago, not ten minutes ago. Since you know how I hate to be late to appointments, I’m convinced you waited the extra hour on purpose.”

  “But dear, you were with that marvelous young what’s-his-name, the son of Alette Rumil,” Mother protested in that high voice she used when she felt unjustly accused—and which never failed to jangle Selendi’s nerves even more. “He’s going to be a very important man some day, just like his father, so how could I interrupt?”

  “You could have done it easily, and he probably wouldn’t even have noticed,” Selendi told her with an angry glance her mother never saw. “He’s as thick in the head as Alette has always been, and he’s only good for one thing. He may well be a very important man one day, but only if he can perform as he does now, face down in a bed.”

  “Don’t be crude, dear, it isn’t ladylike,” Mother corrected absently, the same thing she always said when she’d driven Selendi into the foulest of moods. “Alette is simply a bit … easygoing when it comes to understanding things, and her son obviously takes after her. But he also takes after her in looks, you’ll have to admit. He’s one of the handsomest men I’ve ever seen.”

  “You’ve always been partial to blondes, and if you weren’t sitting there doing manual labor I would have brought him in to meet you,” Selendi said, partially distracted by the fact that she’d now discarded every scarf in the chest, and still hadn’t found the one she wanted. “What could have happened to it? I know I saw it in here only a few days ago.”

  “Please don’t be disgusting, Selendi,” Mother protested, finally looking up from the ridiculous contraption. “I’m not doing manual labor, I’m indulging in one of the most popular current hobbies. I’m sure the boy would understand since his mother does almost the same thing when she remembers, so next time do bring him in to meet me. After that I’ll handle the matter myself, but What are you looking for?”

  “I want that pale blue scarf of yours,” Selendi answered, turning away from the scattered mess. “It’s the only scarf that goes really well with this dress, and I’m not leaving here until I find it.”

  “You should have told me what you were looking for sooner, dear,” Mother said with that defensive reproof she was so good at producing. “I loaned the scarf to your sister two days ago, and she hasn’t returned it yet.”

  “Mother, how could you?” Selendi demanded, finding that the last straw. “You should have known I’d want the thing, you were there when I had the final fitting on this dress! Now there’s nothing decent to go with it and I’ll look like the frump of the ages, all because you never think about me. If I had the time, I’d cry. My own mother, caring nothing about me…”

  Selendi let her voice trail off, actually almost as wounded as she’d said she was. Every time Mother gave something to Leta, it was one less thing to be given to her. She didn’t know how Mother could treat her like that, but at least her protest had silenced the silly woman with well-earned guilt. And she had to leave right now, otherwise she really would be late.

  “But dear, can’t you simply change your dress?” Mother began, trying to throw off responsibility the way she always did. “It seems to me—”

  “We’ll have to continue this discussion later, Mother,” Selendi interrupted as she headed out of her mother’s bedchamber. “And you can be sure I’ll remember this the next time Emar Rumil comes to visit. Do enjoy your manual labor.”

  The sound of Mother’s indrawn breath of disappointment gave Selendi a good deal of satisfaction, but she hadn’t the time to enjoy it now as thoroughly as she would have liked. Her carriage would be waiting outside, so she used thickened air to push the stupid servants out of her way, including the one carrying the tea service. Both service and tea ended up on the floor with a crash, but it didn’t matter in the least. Selendi was already past the mess and halfway out the door, so she didn’t even get her hem splashed.

  Her driver knew the way to Kambil Arstin’s house, so she simply had to say where she was going and they were on their way. Her driver was an absolute delight, and not too bad in bed, either. She’d used him a time or two when no one else was available, and the way he’d strutted afterward had amused her. Most peasants knew when they were more than ordinarily privileged, and his strutting would remain amusing as long as he didn’t try to put on airs with her.

  Not that he would, unlike some of the men of her own class. Most of them were absolutely insufferable, even the thick-headed ones like Emar Rumil. Bron Kallan was one like that, and as soon as she tried him in bed she’d probably tell him exactly what she thought of him. Unless he was as good as she’d heard. If he was she’d wait until she tired of him, which wasn’t likely to take long. It never took long with any of them, probably because they were so insufferable.

  Selendi made herself more comfortable on the carriage seat, finally having the time to think about where she was going. The rest of the five she’d been forced to join were men, but they seemed to want as much out of life as she did. It was difficult to imagine men being dissatisfied when most of them at least had the chance to do anything they pleased. Their mothers were never constantly at them, insisting this or that wasn’t ladylike or refined enough. She was beyond being sick of hearing about limits, and had hated it even more when the Advisors’ agent had force
d her to do what she had no real interest in.

  But that made their secret plans all the more delicious. When she and the men defeated that stuck up Adriari’s five to become the Blending that would eventually be Seated, they’d be able to begin their plans for absolute freedom. The Advisors would regret having made them participate in this stupid waste of time called competition that only the peasants took seriously, and her parents at least would regret how little they’d cared about her over the years.

  Selendi smiled at that thought, wondering what she might do to them first. Her father did something or other in the government, so dismissing him would be easy. And if she told him it was happening because Mother had been so cruel to her… Yes, that should settle Mother’s hash nicely. The least she would lose would be her collection of “handsome” boys, which would certainly make her regret that she hadn’t been more generous with her most important daughter.

  That still left Leta to be gotten even with, which would certainly turn out to be something of a problem. Selendi frowned and shifted in annoyance at the thought of her older sister, whom everyone said took mostly after Father. Leta had no more magical talent than anyone else, but somehow she’d always managed to do exactly what she wanted to. The one time they’d had a serious argument, Selendi had lost.

  She still had to take a deep breath at the memory of that, to calm the rage tinged with fear she always felt when thinking about it. They’d both been a lot younger, Selendi barely into her teens with Leta three years older. They’d been arguing about something Selendi couldn’t quite remember the details of, but it had been an important something to Leta. She’d usually shrugged over and ignored anything Selendi did, but that time she’d refused to back down. Yes, now she remembered. It had been when Selendi had told the servants to throw away that useless stand of books in the solarium, to make room for the new lounge chair Selendi had just had delivered.

  “No, those books will not be touched,” Leta had announced coolly, sending the servants away. “I haven’t finished reading them yet, and I won’t want them thrown out even when I have finished.”

  “Then throw away some of the books in your apartment so you can move these in,” Selendi had countered reasonably, determined to make things work out right. “Or get Father to throw away some of his, and put them in the library. I don’t care what you do with them, as long as you get them out of here.”

  “Someone should have mentioned to you sooner that you don’t own this house,” Leta had said with a sound of ridicule that had made Selendi feel completely incensed. “If Father wants the books moved then I’ll move them, but you have no say in the matter. Try to confine your selfishness and spoiled-brat behavior to your own life. Mother has to put up with it because she caused it, but I didn’t so I don’t.”

  And Leta had started to turn away, arrogantly considering the matter settled. That had brought Selendi up to true fury, and without thinking she’d reached toward Leta with her talent. She’d actually done very little practicing with Air magic until then, but what she’d lacked in finesse she made up in strength. She thickened the air around Leta, just enough to make it unbreathable, knowing Leta’s feeble Air magic would never be able to save her.

  And Leta’s Air magic hadn’t. It was Leta herself, obviously holding her breath, who turned back to Selendi and slapped her so hard across the face that Selendi was knocked down. In deep shock she’d half-lain on the floor, her ears ringing and her cheek blazing with pain, and Leta had bent down to take her by the hair and painfully yank her head up.

  “It’s a shame this must be the first time anyone has ever raised a hand to you,” Leta had growled softly in a voice that sent shivers through Selendi. “If you’d been properly punished sooner, I would have been saved the trouble of having to do this. Listen to me, you little slut, and believe what I say: if you ever try to use your ability against me again, I’ll kill you. Afterward I’ll be hysterical because of the ‘accident’ and everyone will commiserate and comfort me, and you’ll be dead. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m not serious. If you have to learn the truth the hard way, you’ll never learn anything beyond it. And from now on stay completely out of my way.”

  She’d shoved Selendi away then and had straightened and left, but it had been quite a while before Selendi had been able to leave herself. Leta had terrified her, and as much like Father as Leta was, Selendi didn’t doubt for a moment that Leta had spoken the absolute truth. She’d taken pains to stay away from her sister and her sister’s possessions after that, but her hatred of Leta had grown stronger and stronger over the years.

  So she had to do something to get even with her sister once they were in power, but she didn’t know what or how. She couldn’t very well face Leta personally, but maybe one or two of the men… Yes, that might work, especially when they needed her cooperation to win the Throne. She would cooperate in return for a small favor, one they owed her anyway simply because she was there. She’d have to mention the point after they spoke to that agent, and the loathsome man was gone.

  Selendi, once again more pleased with the world, settled back to enjoy the rest of the ride. Being involved with men somewhere other than bed might not be so bad after all, but which ones should she send after Leta? She’d have to think about it for a while, but one of them would have to be Delin Moord. He’d be able to frighten even Leta, if even half of what she’d seen in his eyes the time or two he’d let his mask drop was true…

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Homin Weil, Water magic

  Homin crept through the bedchamber, holding his breath to keep it from coming out in great, noisy gasps. His father’s new wife Elfini was currently taking her nap, and the last thing Homin wanted to do was waken her. She’d certainly arranged things so that he would awaken her, but it was just possible he might get around that. Actually he had to get around it, as the time to leave for the meeting was fast approaching. Going through the litany would take much too long, but if Elfini awoke she would certainly insist on it…

  “What are you doing in my bedchamber, Homin?” Elfini’s voice came suddenly out of the dimness, nearly making Homin’s heart stop dead. “This is supposed to be my nap time.”

  “I—I need my—identification bracelet,” Homin croaked unsteadily, his insides tightening with every word. He hadn’t even straightened out of his hunched-over posture, and probably wouldn’t until he was out of there again. “I—took it off for my—bath, and when I returned from the—bath house it was gone. I—looked everywhere for it—before realizing you must have—accidentally walked away with it. I can’t go to the meeting without it, so—”

  “So you came barging into my bedchamber as if I were one of the maids,” Elfini interrupted, her tone very flat. “But now that you are here, we can review the lesson. You do remember the lesson, don’t you?”

  “Elfini, please,” he begged in a whisper, unable to look at her where she sat up in the bed. “I’m not my father, and I don’t enjoy this sort of thing. I just want my identification bracelet back, and then I can—”

  “How dare you try to be impertinent with me, boy?” she interrupted again to demand, her voice much colder than it had been—which he hadn’t thought would be possible. “Recite the first of the lessons I taught you, and do it now!”

  “Elfini is the mistress of this household,” Homin recited at once, too frightened not to. “Elfini is also the mistress of everyone in the household. If anyone in her household disobeys or displeases Elfini, she will not hesitate to discipline them. Please, Elfini, I’m going to be late—”

  “And you claim to understand what you just babbled out?” Elfini said, scorn dripping from every word. “You insist you disliked your first taste of discipline, but your actions fairly beg for another dose. But I do have to remember how delicate you are. Go to my special wardrobe, and fetch out the light whip.”

  “Lord Rigos will force me to tell him why I’m late!” Homin blurted out, his desperation almost as great as his fear. �
��You know how frightened I am of him, and when he turns those eyes on me I simply can’t lie. He’s already said he’ll take stern measures with anyone who tries to disrupt our group, and the anyone includes our families. Lord Rigos is—”

  “I know who Lord Rigos is!” Elfini snapped, furious anger now rippling her control. “We’ve known and hated each other for a number of years now, and he’d just love to interfere with my—Homin, your bracelet is here on my night table. Come and get it and then go to your meeting, but report to me as soon as you return. You’re a very naughty boy, and I don’t allow naughty boys under my roof.”

  The flood of relief made Homin stagger, but he caught his balance then forced himself to go closer to where Elfini sat. Because of the dimness he was just about on top of the night table before he saw the bracelet, and after a nervous glance at his stepmother he snatched it up. He’d almost expected her to grab his wrist when he reached for the bracelet, but that wasn’t the way she did things.

  “Come directly home after that meeting,” she said, her shadowy face and inflexible voice sending shivers through him. “And don’t say a word to Lord Rigos beyond what you absolutely must. If he disturbs my household, you’ll be the one who pays for it.”

  “Yes, Elfini,” he said as quickly as possible, now backing away from the bed. “I’ll be home as soon as the meeting is over, and I won’t say a word.”

  She made a sound that was probably dismissal, but in any event that was the way Homin took it. He turned and fled her bedchamber, and didn’t slow down until he was through the house and out the front door. His carriage waited outside so he climbed right in, told the driver to take him to Kambil Arstin’s house, and only when the carriage began to move did he make the effort to try to relax.