by Sharon Green
“And I’d be cryin’ with you for sure,” Vallant said at once as he straightened up on the couch beside me. “But we men are the delicate, sensitive sort. I’ve got to warn you that our ladies won’t be cryin’.”
“Stop trying to frighten her, Vallant,” Jovvi said with amusement before moving her gaze to Naran. “Tamma and I aren’t the steel hard monsters he’s suggesting we are, but even more importantly we understand how you feel. We all are closer than any group you’ve ever known, but you have to remember that Rion is one of us. As important as you are to him, that’s almost as important as you are to us. We don’t regret the effort we put into bringing you inside, we just wish we’d been more cautious in the expending of it.”
“I’ve just realized something,” Naran said slowly, her expression odd. “I should have seen it sooner, of course, but you simply don’t expect—That identification Rion wore when he and I first met… I barely glanced at it, but obviously I should have looked closer. You’re all members of one of the challenging Blendings, aren’t you? You might even become the next Seated Five. Oh, my goodness—!”
“Naran, please don’t tell me that it makes a difference in how you feel!” Rion said miserably, flinching at the awed look in her eyes. “We’re the same people we were when you and I last met, so please don’t begin to think that anything has changed.”
“But of course it’s changed,” she denied, now gazing at him longingly. “You’re so very important, and I’m completely insignificant. I’d hoped our time together would be longer, but once you’ve won the competitions you’ll be much too busy to bother with me. I don’t mind that, I really don’t, not when we’ll have each other from now until then. Just … when do the competitions begin?”
“We haven’t been told that yet,” Rion replied with a sigh of relief, pulling her close again. “For a moment of dread I was certain you meant to say you feared me, but happily we’ve been spared that. You simply believe I mean to toss you aside, and time will disprove that more thoroughly than words. But do please note that our winning is by no means guaranteed. Instead of joining us in the palace of the Five, you may well have to join us when we run for our lives.”
“Oh, but of course you’ll win,” she said quickly, putting a gentle hand to his face. “Don’t let that worry you even for a moment… I’m … really certain, so please don’t feel disturbed. It gives me pain to see your face creased with frown lines.”
And then she began to massage his face slowly and gently with her fingers, a fierce look of dedicated concentration on her own face. With the crisis over I tried to exchange a glance with Jovvi, but Jovvi seemed wrapped up in private thoughts. Or in the midst of drifting off to sleep, which was more than possible.
“Now seems to be the time to send all of you back to where you belong,” I announced as I stood. “We have to be as rested as possible when our visitor—or visitors—arrive tomorrow—I mean, later today. Oh, you all know what I mean.”
“What you mean is that you’re almost as tired and befuddled as we are,” Lorand replied as he pushed himself to his feet. “May I have the honor of walking you to your door, Dama Hafford?”
“Only if you expect me sleep at my door,” Jovvi answered dryly as she took the hand Lorand extended to help her off the couch. “I seriously doubt that I can make it all the way to my bed by myself.”
“Then I would be a cad if I left you at the door,” he said, looking down into her eyes. “Perish the thought that I would ever be a cad.”
Jovvi sent a smile to match the one he now showed, and they moved together toward the door to the hall. By now Rion and Naran were also up and moving, his arm around her shoulders as he pretended to lean on her. I say pretended, because she could no more have really supported him than Jovvi or I could have. Naran didn’t seem to know that, though, or maybe she had higher expectations of her physical strength. As they moved out into the hall, I heard her urge him in a whisper to lean on her as heavily as he needed to.
“That was nicely done,” Vallant said, and when I turned from closing the door behind those who had left, I saw that he’d managed to stand. “Now let’s help each other to your bed.”
That stupid blush flamed in my cheeks again, but I had no intention of letting anything interfere with the time I’d so been looking forward to. I approached him slowly and offered my hand, and his bigger one swallowed it up. But gently and softly, like a cotton net over a butterfly. And then I was actually leading him to my bedchamber, just as I’d dreamed about a hundred times.
We paused near the bed to share a brief kiss, and it quickly became very obvious that standing up was far from easy for him. So I suggested that he disrobe while I used the comfort facility, and then he could do the same before we settled down. He agreed with a smile before giving me another fleeting kiss, then began to move around to the side of the bed. At the last instant I grabbed a wrap to take into the comfort facility with me, to keep from having to walk naked to the bed. I still didn’t feel quite up to that, and knew I would probably blush more than enough without adding to the situation.
I would swear it never took me longer to undress in my life, although objectively speaking it probably wasn’t any longer than usual. It was just that all objectivity was well out of my reach, displaced by wild impatience and anticipation. If I hadn’t been so nervously intense I would have been able to forget about emptying my bladder, but that choice simply wasn’t possible. So I waited the months and years it took to relieve myself, rinsed my hands and pulled the wrap on, then finally hurried back to the bed.
“Vallant, it’s your turn,” I said softly, climbing onto the bed next to him. He lay on his back under the quilts with his eyes closed, but that broad, magnificent chest was fully exposed. Resting while he was able was a marvelous idea, but the time for rest was over. “Vallant, when you get back I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
I put my hand to his bare shoulder, expecting those very blue eyes to open with a smile, but nothing happened. No smile and no eyes opening, which quickly began to upset me.
“Vallant, please don’t tease,” I asked, shaking his shoulder a bit. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting… Please stop pretending to be asleep.”
The shoulder under my hand barely moved to the shaking, and the rest of him didn’t move at all. Instead I noticed how deep and slow his breathing was, adding to the image of a man lost to exhausted sleep. He wasn’t teasing and he wasn’t pretending, he’d really fallen asleep.
I sat back on my side of the bed, bitterly staring at a wall. After all that waiting and anticipating, I now had a dead body sharing my bed. In another moment or two I would replace the wrap with a nightgown, turn down all the lamps in the apartment, then lay down to sleep myself, but first…
First I had to decide between crying my eyes out, and smashing everything breakable within reach…
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Despite a late night, Delin rose earlier than usual. He sat at his writing desk for a short while, then searched out his carriage driver in the servants’ quarters. Giving the man the sealed envelope he’d prepared and saying it was to be delivered to Timbal was all that was necessary. His driver had done the same more than once before, and had learned long ago not to ask impertinent questions.
The servants were just setting out the breakfast buffet when Delin entered the dining room, so he took a cup of tea to the table to wait for them to finish. The note he’d sent to Timbal, instructing the sleazy little man to see to the anonymous delivery of the letter accompanying his note, would be obeyed without delay—and without the unauthorized opening of the letter. Delin had used the little guttersnipe for years to see to errands he didn’t care to be associated with, and he’d long ago taught the man what would happen if he pried too deeply into the affairs of his betters.
So Delin wasn’t concerned over the possibility of his letter being seen by the wrong eyes, but that didn’t mean he was unconcerned. The letter contained the trigger
ing phrase that would be used against the first peasants who were to face Adriari and her group, the peasants who had been in blue and silver the night of the ball at the palace. He’d originally meant to send them the triggering phrase almost as soon as he’d discovered it, then he’d found himself with second thoughts.
Second thoughts had led to third, mostly suspicion over how wise that course of action really was. The peasants would be freed of almost all restraint, and the information his own group had about them might prove insufficient when it became time to face them. He’d decided to think about it a bit more, but then his exultation had gotten the better of him. Between the Blending they’d managed yesterday and the elimination of his greatest enemy, Delin had recklessly ignored all thoughts of caution and had sent the letter.
“Which I don’t really regret doing, despite feeling uneasy,” he muttered to his cup of tea. The servants were no longer in the room, so he was able to speak to whatever he pleased. “You can’t keep making decisions then changing your mind, not if you intend to retain the leadership of those around you, so I won’t change my mind. I just wish I were filled with fewer misgivings…”
“Well, good morning,” a voice came, and Delin looked up to see an almost unrecognizably bright-eyed Bron entering the room. “I expected to be first in for breakfast this morning, but you’ve beaten me to it. Even though you haven’t actually taken any breakfast yet.”
Bron’s good mood and gentle humor were almost as shocking as his appearance at that time of the morning. Not only wasn’t the Fire magic user sullen, he was actually dressed in clothing rather than a wrap. Delin sipped his tea, wondering if it were possible for one to nearly burn one’s tongue on hot tea in a dream, and then the situation was made even worse.
“Good morning, good morning,” Homin sang out as he and Selendi entered hand in hand, both of them looking just as wide awake as Bron did. “We decided we wanted to know what breakfast tastes like when it hasn’t been kept warm for hours.”
Predictably, Selendi laughed at that, but unexpectedly so did Bron. That went even further to convince Delin that he was dreaming, but the absence of one of their number kept the dream scene from being complete.
“If this were real, Kambil would have shown up before you three,” Delin pointed out, then had to ignore their renewed laughter. “I’m perfectly serious. Since Kambil isn’t here, I must be dreaming.”
“A servant told me that Kambil left instructions not to be disturbed until twenty minutes before Lord Idian is due,” Bron supplied with a chuckle as he filled a plate. “He was really tired last night, and obviously wants to restore his strength before we Blend for Lord Idian. For the first time.”
That last was added so blandly that Delin was amazed all over again. Bron, being circumspect? Obviously Delin had underestimated his leadership abilities; he now knew himself to be extraordinary, considering the changes in Bron, Homin, and Selendi. They were all following him and learning, so the least he could do was follow them for once.
“I can see it’s time that I ate as well,” he said, rising and walking to the place behind Homin, who had urged Selendi to the buffet ahead of him. “It will never do if I faltered during our efforts, simply because my mind was on a rare beefsteak and whipped potatoes instead of on business. Is the bacon underdone or overdone?”
Bron assured him that the bacon was just perfect, and so it turned out to be. Delin discovered a rather large appetite, probably stemming from the exertions of the night, and happily took care of it. The meal was punctuated with occasional light and pleasant conversation, and afterward they took additional tea in the large sitting room. Rather than despising the company of his groupmates as he had done in the past, Delin found himself actually enjoying the time. At long last they were a unified group, undoubtedly thanks to the Blending they’d managed.
It was nearly time for Lord Idian to arrive when Kambil appeared. The big man still looked faintly tired, but his smile of greeting was full of warmth.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was dreaming,” he announced as he headed toward the tea service. “Everyone here and ready before me? Definitely a dream.”
Even Delin had to laugh at that, so similar was the comment to what he’d been thinking and saying earlier.
“Delin said almost the same exact thing,” Selendi commented as she watched Kambil pour a cup of tea. “Is that all you’re going to have for breakfast? If you like, I’ll have the cook throw something together for you.”
“I had a plate brought up by the servant who woke me, and I ate while I dressed,” Kambil said, then turned with his teacup in his hands and a wider smile on his face. “But I appreciate the thought, and thank you for the offer.”
“Well, we do have to look after one another now,” she responded, for all the world like a shy, virgin, schoolgirl. “And I like looking after Homin so well, that I thought I might try branching out. Mama Selendi has a certain ring to it…”
That time everyone laughed, Selendi first among them. The closeness and warmth reached to a part of Delin which had never stopped wanting something like this: membership in a group which was his while he was theirs. No wonder the Advisors limited the number of people who knew how to Blend. If something like this ever became available to everyone, who would bother to fight for governmental positions and social standing?
“Lords and Lady, Lord Idian,” a servant announced, and then Idian was nodding a greeting and making his way to the chair he’d used yesterday. Once he’d seated himself, he looked around at them.
“I bid you a good morning, young gentlefolk,” he said in a mildly firm voice. “As you are all here and properly attired, we may begin at once. Take your formation places, please.”
At another time Delin might have felt insult over being treated with such abruptness, but this morning was a special time. They would Blend “for the first time” in front of Idian, and thereafter would be free to do the same again at any time they pleased. Bron stepped forward briskly to establish the mark they would all measure from, and Kambil left his cup of tea to line up next. Delin brought up the rear as Selendi and Homin placed themselves to either side of Kambil, and then they were ready.
“At last you show a proper amount of enthusiasm,” Lord Idian commented with dry satisfaction. “If it continues, you may actually manage to make it work. Spirit magic begins by reaching out to everyone else, and everyone else must attempt to return the touch.”
This time Kambil’s touch came instantly, and Delin returned it in just the same way. Once connected, Delin saw that the others had done the same, and so he reached out in three additional directions…
“I take it from the young lady’s gasp that you’ve been successful,” Lord Idian said, more than simply commenting as he leaned forward a bit. “Are we discussing just the first attachment to Spirit, or have you accomplished Blending?”
“We have become one,” Delin said, and only then discovered that the others spoke at the same time he did. “What would you have us do next?”
“I would have you withdraw from the Blending, and that immediately,” Lord Idian replied, his tone having sharpened. “There are cautions you have not yet been given, and you must have this information before you begin experimentation. Withdraw, I say, and then find yourself seats.”
The WE Delin was a part of wanted nothing to do with separation, but one part of the WE was extremely tired and shaky. Some of that unsteadiness came from him, Delin knew, and possibly even all of it. It was unthinkable that he might damage that glorious WE, so he withdrew instead back to the chill loneliness he’d known for all of his life.
“Excellent,” Lord Idian said as their formation relaxed and they all took deep breaths. “You are to be congratulated, young friends, for achieving what many considered well beyond you. Please take seats now, for there are things you must be told.”
Kambil was the least bit unsteady as he returned for the teacup he’d abandoned before going to a chair, and Delin knew
exactly how he felt. The Blending had been in existence for mere seconds, but drained was a mild way of describing his condition. So he, too, poured a cup of tea, and carried it to a chair he didn’t quite fall into.
“To begin with, young friends, you must know that Blending is extremely draining on the systems of those involved,” Lord Idian began once Delin was seated. “If one or more of you have not had a proper amount of rest, the strength of the others will be used to activate and maintain the Blending, leaving little or nothing to be used to other purpose. To come to the formation less than fully rested and adequately fed is to waste everyone’s time and effort.”
No one actually looked at Delin when they heard that, but they didn’t have to. Delin hid his shame behind the pretense of sipping at his tea, his resolve to do better in the future solidifying to the strength of a vow.
“When you first begin to practice, you must keep the sessions short and be extremely vigilant,” Lord Idian continued. “Although you won’t believe it at the time, the judgment of a Blending cannot be relied on. Ideas will come to your joint minds, but to follow through on them will be to put yourselves in extreme danger. I will provide a list of proper exercises, which will more than prepare you for the competitions. And there’s one final thing.”
He paused to look around at them, his gaze resting on each of their faces. Suspicion had flared in Delin’s weary mind, but it had been many years since his true feelings could be read in his expression.
“There will come a time of temptation which you must resist at all cost,” Lord Idian pronounced as he continued to look from one to the other of them. “Once you become used to Blending, you will eventually feel the urge to … go even farther. What this farther point is I couldn’t tell you, nor can anyone else who has reached for it. It somehow … draws the members of a Blending in deep, and at some point refuses to release them again. They end up … unmoving and unfeeling, trapped in a vortex outside their bodies. If you ignore this advice, on your heads be it.”