by Sharon Green
“My name is now Rion, Mother, and you’d do well to remember that,” he said after a short hesitation, his tone as firm as he was able to make it. “It was vile of you to suggest that these ladies came to my aid only because they had hopes of being paid, but this is hardly the first time you’ve been vile to me. With that in view, you’d better do as they said and go.”
Disbelieving fury flashed briefly in her light eyes, and then her entire demeanor changed in the way she was so good at accomplishing, “Oh, my poor darling, they’ve gotten you all confused, haven’t they?” she whispered, tears now glinting in those eyes. “They’ve deliberately poisoned your mind against me, the tragedy I’ve always tried to protect you from. But please don’t fret, I understand that it isn’t your fault, and there’s no question but that I forgive you. And you needn’t worry that I’ll abandon you while you remain in their clutches. I’m not without influence in this empire, and my letter may have been ignored, but my person won’t be. I’ll free you, dear, and then we’ll be back together again forever.”
Rion felt a chill grip him at that, but he stood silently while Mother came close to kiss his cheek, then watched as she turned and left. Tamrissa stepped to the door as the servant hurried in Mother’s wake, and after a moment Tamrissa closed the library door and turned back to them.
“She’s gone, thank goodness,” Tamrissa announced, one hand to her middle. “She makes my insides turn over and I don’t know how I managed to speak to her like that. As soon as she was out of here she stopped floating and started stalking, and Eskin Drowd was nearly run down. You were very brave to stand up for yourself, Rion, but at least it’s over with now.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not,” Rion disagreed after emptying his brandy glass in a single gulp. “I’ve seen her like that before, and she’s only just begun. She’ll start to visit everyone she can think of, and eventually they’ll get so tired of her nagging that they’ll give her anything she wants just to get rid of her. I used to admire that behavior, but now it’s my life she’s after…”
A life he’d only just begun to live. The idea of being dragged back to the terrible isolation and unhappiness he’d been chained to before was enough to make him weep, right then and there in front of them all. He had no doubt that they would understand and sympathize, but he couldn’t bear to give them what would also be an unconscionable embarrassment.
“I think you’d do well to remember that you’re not a child any more, Mardimil,” Ro said, breaking a silence that had grown almost awkward. “She can rant and rave as much as she likes, but she can’t force you to go back to her. As long as you say no and stick to it, there’s nothin’ she can do.”
“And the testing authority isn’t about to just let her walk you away,” Coll pointed out, obviously trying to change the atmosphere from depressed to enthusiastic. “We’re right in the middle of things, remember, and if you qualify for the competition they certainly won’t let you leave. But what we speculated about hasn’t changed, so maybe you would be better off if she—”
“No!” Rion interrupted harshly, then held up a hand in apology. “No, I would not be better off even if we were certain about what lies ahead. I would rather be dead than return to what was, so I have to thank each and every one of you for the help you’ve given me. But now, if you don’t mind, I believe it’s time for me to retire.”
No one tried to dissuade him, but Tamrissa patted his arm and Jovvi kissed his cheek before they allowed him to leave. The hall was empty and he crossed it quickly, taking the stairs two at a time to let him reach his room sooner. For some reason he abruptly remembered his original intention to complain about that room, a place that had grown more welcoming than his apartments in Mother’s various houses had ever been. How could he have seen it as stiflingly small rather than cozy, garish rather than lively, inferior rather than wonderfully warm…?
Even as his mind asked those questions, the answer became obvious. He’d thought those things because he’d still been looking at the world through Mother’s eyes, the only way he’d ever been permitted to look at anything. It wasn’t possible to consider going back to that, to consider giving up the small amount of progress he’d made toward becoming a real person. If any of Mother’s “friends” tried to insist, he’d have to remind them that he was just as noble as she was…
Yes, that was it. Rion smiled where he’d stopped in the middle of the room, and then began to get undressed. He’d forgotten briefly that he was a noble, and no one forced nobles to do anything they didn’t care to. He’d make certain he qualified for that competition thing, and then he’d remind anyone who became involved that he was no commoner to be told where to go and how to live. Yes, that would work…
…hopefully against any and all trouble that Mother would certainly manage to generate…
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Vallant actually found it a relief to reach the sessions building on this second morning. After what he’d gone through yesterday—and undoubtedly would again today—he should have felt anything but relief, and yet that wasn’t so. He’d spent so much of last night and all of this morning’s drive thinking about Tamrissa, that anything pulling him away from his thoughts had to be considered a good thing.
Holter, Coll, and Drowd were in the coach with him again, and the first coach also carried its original complement. Apparently everyone had decided to start as early as they had yesterday, and that no matter what level they’d achieved. Vallant wanted the torture over and behind him as quickly as possible, but others, like Drowd, needed the extra practice time. The man looked positively grim this morning, and if stares could have killed, Coll would have been an unmoving body on the ground.
This time, with the sun shining brightly, the coach stopped at the front of the building. Drowd was out as soon as all motion had ceased, and Coll wasn’t far behind him. Vallant waited until Holter stepped down before getting out himself, but he couldn’t keep from pausing at the top of the steps. The others had already gone inside, all of them including Coll…
And that brought it all back, the breast-beating he’d done ever since he’d seen Tamrissa and Coll the night before, laughing as they came out of the library together. That could have been caused by almost anything, but then he’d noticed during the meal that they called each other by their given names. Apparently Coll had moved ahead while Vallant had hesitated and wasted time, and now Vallant’s opportunity with Tamrissa was lost for good.
But he’d spent the entire ride thinking, and now it was time to decide that he hadn’t lost out. It wasn’t like him to simply give up without a fight, but this being stuffed into tiny, airless spaces was playing havoc with his usual self-confidence. He had to take care of that first, but as soon as he got back to the residence he intended to go looking for Tamrissa. He’d find out if he really had no chance with her, and if that didn’t happen to be the case…
Having made up his mind brought Vallant almost to the point of whistling, but he wasn’t quite that confident about going back into the session room. He was able to square his shoulders and enter the building as if doing it were easy, and actually crossed the floor without hesitation. The hesitation appeared when it came time to walk into the room itself, but Vallant forced himself to bear in mind that the sooner he got to it, the sooner it would be over. Swallowing from a dry mouth proved rather difficult, but remembering that no one would be between him and the door finally let him go inside.
The same Adept was there, and the man smiled coldly before leading Vallant to a cubicle only a few steps from the door. Holter was already inside the one opposite, his four strands of water already beginning to form. Vallant had to clench his teeth and his fists before he was able to enter the cubicle, but thinking about forming those four strands before trying five let him do it. It wasn’t actually necessary for him to start with four strands again, not when he already knew how much power was needed to control them, but it would give him a chance to get the same control over himself bef
ore going on.
Vallant noticed vaguely that the lamplight was softer and the chair much more comfortable in this new cubicle, two benefits that made very little difference to his state of mind. What he had to concentrate on was forming strands of water and then weaving them together, three patterns each for the four and five strands. He’d gotten all three patterns for the four strands, but went through them again anyway to see if he’d forgotten anything important.
But not only hadn’t he forgotten anything, forming the patterns was so easy it was as though he’d done it all his life. Vallant frowned at that, not understanding why it had happened. It was true that he’d found using his talent easy over the years, but he’d never needed to do anything this complex. Maybe weaving five strands would prove more of a strain, the same strain he could feel in the stranger who wove water to his right.
Vallant opened himself to more of the power than he’d ever tried to control before, the silent roaring of its arrival echoing in his head. He also experienced a surge of strength and vitality, making him feel like a seven-foot giant of good health, but that feeling couldn’t be relied on, he’d learned. The more power you took in the faster it drained your physical strength, and that no matter how good you felt before you fell over from exhaustion. The best thing to do was to get on with it, do what was necessary, and then get out.
So he gathered enough moisture from the air to form a fifth strand, and began to weave them together into the first of the three patterns. Vallant knew there were buckets of water standing around in that room, replacing what was taken from the air. They’d been cautioned not to take the water directly from the buckets—easier by far than taking it from the air—because the water in the buckets was only there to keep the air breathable. With so many people stripping moisture from the air, it would soon have felt like a desert to their lungs and skin.
The distraction of those thoughts should have slowed Vallant’s progress with the weaving, but to his surprise it didn’t. The weaving formed one turn and knot after the other until the entire length of the five strands was used. But that was the easiest of the three patterns to do, so it remained to be seen what would happen with the others. They also required more concentration, but once they’d been formed the first time, Vallant was able to go through all three of them again with very little effort.
A movement out of the corner of his eye took Vallant’s attention, and he turned his head to see Holter getting up to leave his cubicle. Vallant remembered glimpses that showed Holter going through the three patterns as well, and now the man seemed ready to leave. In Vallant’s opinion that was an excellent idea, so he banished the five strands back to the air they’d come from, then forced himself to follow Holter slowly.
The Adept in charge waited for them near the door leading out, near the door and happily not in front of it. Vallant wanted nothing more than to just keep going, but the Adept obviously waited to tell them something. If Vallant let himself run out the way he so badly needed to, he’d just end up having to come back. Keeping control of the panic another couple of minutes was a much smarter idea, and the sweat running down his face could simply be ignored.
“Congratulations, gentlemen, and welcome to your new standing in life,” the Adept said, sounding for the first time as though he addressed equals—or near equals. “You’ve managed to qualify for the competitions just as quickly as you’re supposed to, so tomorrow you won’t be returning here. Just relax and enjoy yourselves through the rest of today, for tomorrow the true enjoyment begins.”
Something about his smile disturbed Vallant, but Holter was heading for the door after nodding, so Vallant lost no time following. The large open floor of the building’s interior brought a small amount of relief, but what Vallant needed was the true outdoors. For that reason he lengthened his stride to reach the front door more quickly, stepped outside into the sunshine, then moved to one side to lean against the wall and close his eyes. He had no idea how long they’d have to wait before the coach returned for them, but he’d be fine as long as he could do his waiting right here.
“You okay?” a voice asked after a moment, a disturbed voice that nevertheless sounded reluctant to speak. “You need help t’go back in an’ sit down?”
“Anythin’ but that,” Vallant muttered, opening his eyes to see a frowning Holter staring at him. “I … don’t like bein’ indoors, especially not on pretty days like this one. I’ll be just fine, but since you brought up the question, I’ll give it back to you. Are you all right?”
Holter stiffened, as though on the verge of withdrawing back into himself again, then he moved his gaze from Vallant’s face and shook his head.
“No, I ain’t okay,” he stated, the words almost flat.“My friends don’t wanna know me no more, like I ain’t the same man who drank an’ laughed with ’em an’ done ’em all them favors. I ain’t good enough fer ’em anymore, but that’s whut they think. I mean t’ prove I’m better, an’ then we’ll see who looks down on who. An I’ll do ’er too, no matter how rough doin’ ’er is…”
He let his voice trail off before walking a few feet away, the bitterness in him so sharp that Vallant could almost taste it. He tried to imagine how he would feel if all his friends had drawn away in fear and loathing, but quickly dismissed the question. The pain of it would have been almost unbearable even though Vallant had those in the residence he might talk to and associate with. How much worse was it for Holter, who’d felt out of place right from the beginning?
That was another question Vallant preferred not to get into, especially since it didn’t seem possible to do anything about it. The little man had been invited to join them in the library for brandy last night, and he’d refused. It isn’t possible to ease the pain of someone who doesn’t want to be eased, someone who’s decided to use the pain as a goad on the way to success. Obviously that’s what Holter was doing, and the man didn’t seem prepared to let himself be diverted.
They had to wait almost half an hour, but finally the coach arrived to take them back to the residence. Other people had come out to wait with them, but no one who was a member of their residence. As the coach moved through the crowded streets, Vallant tried to wonder how the others were doing. He really did care, but thoughts of a single one of the others kept crowding out everyone else. Today he would find out exactly where he stood with Tamrissa, who would hopefully be home as early as he was. After that … after that… Well, they’d have to see, but he’d made up his mind that there would be an after that!
* * *
Lorand left the coach right after Drowd, still upset about the night before. He’d meant to speak to Jovvi right after the small party, telling her how he saw things and then asking how she saw them. It would have been the perfect time, if Mardimil’s mother hadn’t shown up. The woman had probably bribed someone to tell her where Mardimil was, and then she’d sailed in and tried to take over Mardimil’s life again. Once he’d left for his room, Jovvi and Tamrissa had been furious, which ended the possibility of any sort of calm exchange of ideas.
Sighing as he walked across the floor, Lorand had to admit that he had more pressing problems to concern him than a missed opportunity for conversation. He knew what he had to do in order to qualify for those competitions, and couldn’t honestly say he hadn’t known sooner. When Mardimil had put the answer into words he could no longer ignore he’d almost run, something the others had undoubtedly seen. But having to face the need to open himself to even more of the power that could kill so easily…
Lorand pushed that thought away, along with the picture of that little girl from so many years earlier. Deep inside, the whole thing still made him tremble and probably always would. What he had to keep firmly in mind now was that Jovvi would certainly move ahead to the competitions, and he couldn’t stand the thought of not being there with her and for her. If she needed him and he wasn’t there, he’d never forgive himself even if he lived.
Which wasn’t all that likely to happen. He eyed the d
oor he approached, the one Drowd had already gone through, trying to remember if he’d ever heard someone boast about almost having made it to the High competitions. He hadn’t realized sooner that he should have known someone like that—unless those who came close never went home again. Middles were a different story, but then there was no competition involved with being declared a Middle.
So Lorand had to accept the fact that his life was probably at stake again, and refusing to use the necessary power wasn’t likely to save him. Not to mention get him any of the gold he needed, for others as well as himself. Hat… Hat had been his friend for a very long time, and couldn’t be blamed for what he’d said while drunk. The disappointment had been devastating for him, but he’d always been a lot stronger than he looked. He’d pull out of the depression and disappointment and then begin a new life—with the help of the gold Lorand would lend him.
But first Lorand had to win the gold, and in order to do that he had to qualify for the competitions. He stopped just inside the door of the session room, fighting not to sweat as he waited for Toblis, the Adept, to come back from placing Drowd in a cubicle. Drowd was back where they’d both been yesterday, and when Toblis took Lorand to a different cubicle, Drowd tried to kill him with a glare again. The academician obviously found it intolerable that a mere farmer was able to outdo him.
Well, that was just too bad about Drowd. Lorand sat down in the chair that was better than the one he’d had yesterday, and prepared himself to start all over from the beginning. If he was ever going to do what was necessary, he had to do it now, before he lost his nerve again. He just had to remember that he risked nothing in trying to use more power, not even his life.