“Leave me,” Ed said. “You’ll get trapped too.”
“We could use some help here,” Renni shouted, ignoring Ed’s plea, as did Marta.
Gorvy Darnell and Marchion Blandry ran to their aid. They were taller than Marta and Renni and could lean in far enough to grab Ed beneath his armpits, but no matter how hard they tugged, they could not extract Ed from the stuff that had climbed above his waist and come perilously close to his would-be rescuers’ hands and arms.
With a loud whoosh the stuff of the fountain spurted up and over Ed, covering him completely. Renni and Marta barely had time to jump back as the fake water rained down on them. Marchion also stumbled out and away from the sticky stuff, but Gorvy was not so lucky. Renni looked back and saw him, one hand still clasping Ed’s arm, swallowed up by the surge. In seconds he and Ed were like two statues in the middle of a fountain. A fountain whose water wasn’t really water at all.
Burning with rage, Marta swung around toward the group. It would have been gratifying to see so many of the Gifted here to help her and Ed except that no one was doing anything constructive. Renni, who had tried to help and had in fact accomplished more than anyone else, now was shouting a whole arsenal of epithets at a young man who shouted back and seemed, incredibly, to be calling on the group to calm down and listen to what Jerome had to say. Kyla, her hands on her hips, faced the two shouters and was trying in vain to quiet them. A middle-aged woman with tears running down her cheeks was standing by the figures caught in the now solidified fountain. She must be the wife of the man caught with Ed. The man who had nearly been caught also stared at the fountain, looking dazed as he pulled gobs of the fountain stuff off his clothes and out of his hair.
His effort reminded her that she, too, was peppered with globules of the waxy substance. It clung stubbornly to her fingers when she tried to pull it off, and she had to tug it free. Meanwhile, Jerome stood to one side observing all the confusion. His amused look told her that he’d orchestrated that confusion.
She held in her hand the stuff she’d pried from her fingers. It wasn’t a lot, but …
Using her power she hurled the sticky substance at Jerome’s face. Her accurate aim plastered the stuff over his eyes. It stuck to his face like a mask. He let out a howl of rage.
Marta rushed to the man still peeling the substance from his body. “Give it to me, quick,” and at his uncomprehending look added, “the goop you’re taking off yourself. Give it to me.”
Not waiting for him to respond, she clawed a wad of it out of his hand and sent it flying at Jerome. It molded itself over one of his ears. In seconds Marta scraped another bit off the man’s shoulder and sent it after the first to cover Jerome’s other ear, then targeted his nose and mouth. By that time her unwitting helper caught on to what she was doing and joined her in a hunt for more bits she could turn into weapons.
Jerome clawed at his face, but Marta used her power to keep the stuff, now hardening, plastered tightly to him, blinding, deafening, and silencing him. And could he even breathe through it? She and Ed had when they were encased in the fountain. So it couldn’t kill Jerome, but maybe it would render him helpless enough to allow the group to find a way to imprison him.
Having nothing more to throw, she glanced around, expecting to see others rushing to attack Jerome while he was vulnerable. Instead, Kyla kept trying to separate Lore from Renni, who was now attacking him physically as well as verbally. The priest who’d brought the blessing at Dreama’s Naming-Day service stood to one side praying, and though Marta couldn’t distinguish the words, she guessed he prayed to Ondin rather than to the Power-Giver. The wife of the man caught along with Ed still stood by the fountain, weeping. Abigail stood by her, consoling her. A dowdy woman in a ridiculous gown wrung her hands helplessly as she watched the fight between Renni and Lore. Most incongruously, a pretty young woman was singing, a recognizable melody. And the shy young man whose name she couldn’t now remember sat on the ground a considerable distance away, hunched over what looked like a large drawing pad. Marta wanted to scream at them all to stop the nonsense. But what good would it do? They had become marionettes with Jerome pulling their strings.
Another man, whose name she didn’t recall but remembered that he was a professor, stood with brows furrowed and hands clenched, apparently trying to use his power. It had no noticeable effect. Or did it?
Jerome stopped clawing at the clear substance covering his face. His arms and hands lowered and clamped against his side. Marta remembered: the professor’s gift was coercion. He must be forcing Jerome to remain still and refrain from removing the mask.
Marta’s helper must have noted the same thing. “I’m feeding the professor all the power I can,” he said. “While Firstan holds him, we need to secure him.”
“How?” Marta asked. “With what?”
She looked around, saw only dry sand. But the sand gave her an idea. “Kyla,” she shouted. “Sing the wind. Have it throw sand on Jerome.”
Kyla didn’t seem to hear. She remained preoccupied with the shouting match between Renni and the young man. The other singer paused, staring at Kyla as if she hadn’t known the Community leader sang the wind. Was it possible that Kyla had never revealed that gift?
Marta could not escape the conviction that Kyla had failed the Community in many ways. She couldn’t think about that now. Jerome might be blinded and deafened by the clingy substance she’d thrown onto his face, but that didn’t mean his power was diminished. He must be controlling the actions of Renni, the young man, and even Kyla in some way. He won’t control me, Marta resolved, firming up her defenses.
She turned to the young woman who had been singing. “You,” she called to her, “can you sing the wind?”
The woman hurried toward her. “No,” she said. “I can control water by singing. There’s no water here, but I’d hoped the fountain, even though it’s not real water, might respond.” She shook her head sadly. “It doesn’t.”
Marta nodded. No hope from that quarter then. At least the woman had tried to do something. She turned to the man who had been helping her. “What are your abilities?” she asked.
“I see auras—or did. Something took that ability from me. I can enhance other people’s gifts. I’ve been feeding you what power I can while you tossed that stuff at Jerome.”
“Good work, thanks,” Marta said. “Keep it up.”
She turned to Abigail. “Abigail, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to use a spell to contact Veronica,” she said. “We need her here, but the spell isn’t working.”
“Forget that. Help me break Kyla and Renni out of whatever spell Jerome’s put on them.”
“I don’t know how—”
“Try. Use your ability to heal.” Marta grabbed Kyla’s arm and swung her toward Abigail.
Kyla seemed to be in a daze. She kept repeating, “Lore, Renni, stop. We can’t fight among ourselves.”
So now Marta knew their names. Lore and Renni paid no attention to Kyla. Like her, they were repeating the same phrases over and over. Lore kept shouting, “Just listen to him. Let him explain things.” Renni kept yelling, “You’re a traitor and a liar.” Locked in that cycle of recrimination and pleading, they seemed unaware of anything or anyone else.
Marta tried to step between them and hit something like an invisible wall. She had to let them go and look for help somewhere else. If only she could remember the names of all these people. Kyla had introduced her to all of them at the Naming-Day ceremony, when she’d been in such a state of nerves that she hadn’t even tried to commit their names to memory.
The dowdy woman in the gaudy gown sidled up to her while casting wary glances at Jerome. “You probably don’t remember, but I’m Zauna.” She spoke in a whisper as though fearful of being overheard. “I’m a crystal gazer, but someone cracked my crystal ball so there wasn’t any use in bringing it. I can’t do anything without it, but Kyla insisted I should come. If I can help in any way, I will. And
so will the rest of us. We just need direction.”
Marta had expected her to say she wanted to be returned home. Gratified by the offer of help that had come instead, Marta said, “I’ve forgotten the names and abilities of these people. Can you tell me?”
Zauna nodded toward each of her companions in turn. “That’s Marchion. He’s an enhancer. He also sees auras, but that won’t be much help now. She turned her head toward another man. “That’s Professor Firstan Morence. He can force people to act against their will.” She indicated the young man hunched over the drawing pad. “That’s Winter Salas. He’s an empath. He won’t be much help.”
Marta remembered how Veronica had embarrassed him with her effusive introduction. Why had Kyla brought him here? He’d feel all the tension, the anger, the fear. “He must be suffering terribly.”
“Yes,” Zauna agreed, and echoing Marta’s thought added, “He shouldn’t have come.” She turned to the young woman who’d tried to control the false fountain by singing. “That’s Trille. She could use water as a force, but there isn’t any here.”
Marta frowned. Such a diverse group, but very little talent that could be used against Jerome. She cast a worried glance at him. He’d free himself before long. They’d never be ready for it. If only Kyla could tell her what her plan had been. Zauna must know. “What did Kyla intend to do?”
Zauna stared down at her sandaled feet. “I don’t think she had a plan,” she mumbled. More clearly she said, “She just wanted us to pool our power and throw it against him.” Her voice trailed off. “Somehow.”
“So she came here, brought everyone here, with no plan?” Marta had suspected as much.
“She was desperate to rescue you and your husband,” Zauna said, once again studying her feet.
“And Dreama. Don’t forget about the baby,” Marta snapped. “She’s the important one.”
Zauna lifted her head, her eyes round. “But—oh, that’s right. You didn’t know! Baby Dreama is safe. Lore and Ed rescued her. Winnie and Leah are caring for her. And they have a nanny goat to provide milk.”
“She’s safe?” Marta could scarcely believe what she’d heard. Zauna deserved a hug for that news. But wait! “Ed and Lore rescued her? The fellow Renni’s screaming at, calling a traitor? The one who keeps telling us to listen to Jerome?”
Zauna took a step backward as she nodded. “Lore Kaplek. I think,” she said, her voice again lowered to a whisper, “he’s the one who broke my crystal ball.”
Marta didn’t care about the woman’s crystal ball. “We have to free him from the spell Jerome’s got him trapped in. And Renni and Kyla, too, before Jerome breaks loose and out of that glop I threw on him.”
The ground shook. Jerome zoomed up to twice the height of a normal man. With one hand he peeled the hardened waxy stuff from his face, freeing his eyes and ears. Laughing wildly, he loomed over them, clapping his hands. Zauna screamed.
“You’ve been so wonderfully entertaining,” his voice boomed. “Such a mismatched, sorry group with such big ambitions. I let you think you’d incapacitated me. But did you really think you were strong enough and coordinated enough to overpower me? You have no idea of my strength and a greatly inflated idea of your feeble abilities.”
Everyone froze. They all gazed up at Jerome, varying degrees of horror written on their faces. Even Winter looked up from his drawing tablet, a charcoal smudge on his face and a stick of charcoal clutched in one hand, to stare open-mouthed at the monstrous figure.
Marta sensed that Jerome was lying about only having let them think they’d blinded and deafened him. He’d been furious and more than a little afraid for a time. It hadn’t lasted long, and he’d pretended to be incapacitated longer than he actually had been, but they had proven that Jerome was not invincible. They could defeat him, but they had to find stronger measures to use against him.
The spell that had held Kyla and Lore and Renni in an endless round of shouting and pleading, recriminations and admonitions vanished, leaving them shamefaced and afraid. Lore shook his head in disbelief. Marta stood near enough to hear his low mutter: “You lied to me. You misled me. And you probably won’t let me keep the gifts you gave me.”
Gifts? What abilities had Jerome given this young fool, and how had he used them?
Jerome had heard him, too. “Oh, no, my friend Lore,” he boomed, “the gifts are yours to keep. They are your reward for being so helpful to me. You can only lose them by trying to use them against me. Not that you could do any harm to me if you tried.”
At that speech, everyone turned to glare at Lore.
“So Renni was right,” Kyla said. “You are a traitor.”
“No, I—”
Marta cut in. “Drop it, both of you, before you get caught in another shouting loop. You’re playing right into Jerome’s hands.” She looked at Lore. “I don’t know how Jerome got to you, but you did something wonderful before that. Thank you for helping Ed rescue our baby.”
“Your baby?” To Marta Jerome’s surprise sounded feigned. “I thought it was the child of the woman who clung to it so tenaciously, trying to wrest it from my grasp. I had to teach her a lesson. Too bad I made it so severe. I’d have reserved that treatment for you if I’d known.”
“Lesson? Is that what you call what you did to poor Mayzie? You murdered her!” Kyla shouted.
“Monster!” Marta leapt toward him, her fists clenched. Jerome put out a hand, palm forward. She fell back as though he’d given her a hard push, although he hadn’t touched her.
Jerome laughed. “Such delightful drama,” he crowed. “I never knew you people could provide so much entertainment. Look at the poor fools, Lore. Stick with me. Stay on the winning team.”
“Winning? We’ll see about that,” Kyla said, her hands on her hips, her chin tilted defiantly upward.
“Release my husband!” Marta demanded with equal defiance.
“No indeed. Simple Eddy is staying right where he is, where he can’t blunder into any more trouble.” Jerome peered down at the wife of the man trapped along with Eddy. “Sorry about your husband, madam. He’ll have to stay where he is, as a consequence of choosing such troublesome and foolish friends.”
“You haven’t seen how troublesome we can be,” Marta said. “We’ll see who’s foolish.”
Jerome’s loud laughter again poured over the group. “Indeed we will. Although it should be obvious already. Look at you, a pathetic bunch who can’t even work together or formulate a plan. A match for me? Hardly. I’ve had years to hone my skills and sharpen my intellect. I’ve already outwitted and outmaneuvered you. I let you get the baby back. Taking it accomplished what I wanted. It brought you all here, where I needed you. Now the real fun can begin.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TEARS AND TRIALS
Veronica let anger override her guilt at refusing to accompany the group. Aunt Kyla should have understood. She knew what it felt like to have her power depleted and should have understood what it was like to have just come from a harrowing experience. True, she didn’t know about the hard work of tearing down the dam and releasing the water reservoir. Would all that work prove of any use? Jerome could easily use his power to rebuild the dam and collect the water he needed.
At the time it had seemed vitally important to destroy the dam. She’d felt compelled to do it. Had it been no more than a foolish impulse? Here, alone, she felt unsure of herself.
From somewhere in the house she heard the baby wail, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. Leah and Winnie were here. She should go find them and look in on Baby Dreama. And rest a bit to recover her powers. But first she needed to eat.
She took two eggs from the cold box, put a pan on the stove, added a bit of butter, and scrambled the eggs. The breadbox held a loaf of Leah’s wonderful baked bread. She cut off a big slice and sat down at the kitchen table to eat the eggs and bread.
“Veronica! You’re back! What happened to you?” Leah hurried to the table and took a seat oppos
ite her. “I smelled something cooking and couldn’t imagine who was here. We’ve all been so worried about you. The others have gone to confront Jerome. Did you see him? Where have you been?”
Leah’s warm welcome, which contrasted so with Aunt Kyla’s, comforted Veronica. She responded eagerly. “Lore and I went to Ed’s world, or what used to be Ed’s world. We got caught in a sandstorm. It was horrible, impossible to see or hear anything. We got separated. Lore says he looked for me, couldn’t find me, and figured I came back without him. I think he’s lying. He talked me into going. It wasn’t my idea. So he had a lot of nerve, just leaving me there.” Sudden tears poured down her cheeks and she started shaking. “I thought I’d die of thirst.” She choked out the words between sobs. “I had to walk and walk to find water.”
Leah rose and came around the table to put her arms around Veronica. “But you did find some?”
Veronica nodded.
“And you’re back, safe.”
“Yes, I got back just as the group was ready to transport to Ed’s world, and Aunt Kyla wanted me to go with them, but I couldn’t. Aunt Leah, I just couldn’t. I was hungry, and my power was all gone, and … and I’m so tired.”
“Of course you are,” Leah said, letting Veronica sob into her shoulder while she patted her back. “Kyla couldn’t think straight. She’s too worried about Marta and Ed. Do you know what’s happened to them?”
“No.” Veronica told her about walking to the mountains, finding the dammed stream, and tearing down the dam. “I wanted to keep Jerome from getting water. But he’ll just build it back up.” That realization brought a fresh paroxysm of wrenching sobs.
“Maybe not,” Leah said. “At least, not right away. It may have an effect you can’t anticipate.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” Veronica said as the tears streamed down her face.
A hand rested on her shoulder. She heard Winnie’s voice say, “No, Leah’s right. We can’t know what will result. You just need to finish eating and then sleep for a while.”
A Mix of Magics (Arucadi: The Beginning Book 3) Page 15