Winnie must have come in long enough ago to hear most of what she told Leah. The comfort offered by these two dear women calmed Veronica. Gradually her tears subsided, and she followed Winnie’s advice, finishing her bread and eggs, and even enjoying a second piece of bread slathered with Aunt Abigail’s delicious peach jam.
She hugged Leah and Winnie. “I do need to rest a little,” she said. “I have to get my power built up so I can join the others. Right now I don’t have enough to transport myself anywhere but to bed.”
“That’s where you belong,” Leah said.
“Don’t let me sleep too long though,” Veronica begged. “Wake me in a couple of hours, no more. That should be enough to build my power back up.”
Leah promised, and Veronica went to her room, lay down, and fell asleep immediately. She thought she’d been asleep only a few moments when Leah shook her awake. “Wha— Wha’s wrong?” she mumbled.
“You asked me to wake you in two hours,” Leah said. “It’s been two and a half. I would have liked to wait longer, but I’m worried about Kyla and the others.”
Veronica sat up, rubbing her eyes. “No word?”
“No, and I can’t think about what could be going on where they are.”
“I guess I’d better see if I can get back there.”
Leah gave her a hug. “I almost hope you can’t. I don’t want to lose you too.”
“You haven’t lost anyone yet,” Veronica said, hugging her in return. “They’re all there—in Ed’s world. Except …” She hesitated before adding, “except it isn’t Ed’s world anymore. I guess it’s Jerome’s world now.”
Leah burst into tears. “That’s why I’m so worried,” she said, sobbing. “I wish you didn’t have to go back. But if you don’t …” She was crying too hard to finish.
Veronica didn’t know what to say. She’d never seen Leah like this. She was always calm, always a steadying influence not just on Aunt Abigail but on everybody, even Aunt Kyla. It frightened her, gave her an icy feeling deep inside. If Aunt Leah was this scared, was there any hope at all?
Suddenly Veronica just wanted to go back to bed. She still felt tired. And cold. And scared. She did not want to return to “Jerome’s land.”
The wail of a baby jolted her. Dreama! She’d almost forgotten about her.
Dreama needed a mother and a father. Veronica couldn’t back out. She had to help defeat Jerome, help rescue Marta and Ed. Frightened or not, she had to go where she was needed and do whatever she could to help.
Because the waxy substance encasing Ed and Gorvy was transparent, and because Ed was conscious, through his eyes Petros saw everything that happened within Ed’s range of vision. Ed couldn’t turn his head, but he could roll his eyes to shift his gaze. Unfortunately, while he could see, he could hear only a little of what was occurring. That was enough to show him how easily Jerome defeated the valiant efforts of Marta, Darnell, and Marchion. Judging by Jerome’s expression of triumphant glee and the fearful gazes of most of the group, they had little hope of victory or even of saving themselves. If only Ed and Gorvy, and he with Ed, could be free to help instead of being trapped in this weird, waxy stuff. Petros had never felt so isolated and helpless.
If he could mindspeak to Ed, he’d feel less alone. But how would Ed react to having an uninvited rider in his head? He might resent it, especially after having had Renni erase so many days of memories without his consent. He should have asked Ed’s permission, but there hadn’t been time. And there was no assurance that Ed would give it. So here he was, trapped along with Ed and without Ed’s awareness of his presence.
He recalled that Lady Kyla had said Ed had heard the Power-Giver’s voice in his mind. That wasn’t really an analogous situation but maybe, Petros thought, Ed could hear him if he tried hard to mindspeak. His consciousness was already in Ed’s mind, which should make it easier.
Deciding to take the risk, Petros concentrated, putting all the force he could muster into calling, Ed, Ed, can you hear me? It’s Petros. If you hear me, respond by thinking back to me.
He got no response, but kept trying. And finally, after many tries, he heard, Petros? I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Who are you?
That’s right, Ed wouldn’t remember him. Renni had wiped his recent memories, and he’d had no time to become re-acquainted with the Community members. Kyla had been right in scolding Renni for doing that to Ed.
I’m the fellow that uses a wheeled platform to get around because my legs are gone. Although I can’t walk, I can travel by sending my consciousness into someone and following them to a distant location. I sent my consciousness into you so I could follow what happened when you returned to this place to find Marta.
There followed a pause so long that Petros feared Ed had heard none of that explanation. But finally came Ed’s clearly suspicious sending: So you’re in my mind? My thoughts?
Petros immediately sent back, I’m not in your thoughts at all. I’m not a mind reader. I’m just a hitchhiker. I can see what you see, hear what you hear, but I can’t know what you’re thinking. And up until now I’ve never tried to mindspeak with anyone I’m hitching a ride with. But I’m trapped in this fountain-thing along with you, and not being able to speak to anyone or hear anything was getting to me. I didn’t know whether I could get through or not, but I had to try.
Again a long silence, then a question, How does this help? With what’s going on out there, I mean.
Petros had no good answer to that question. I guess it doesn’t. Not right now, anyway. It just keeps us from feeling so isolated. It wasn’t a satisfactory answer, and Petros knew it. It gives us a bit of a reason to hope, he added a bit lamely.
Does it? was Ed’s only response.
But another response came from a different source. Hey, fellas, I’m in here too, and I think it does.
Gorvy! Petros had momentarily forgotten that he was trapped along with Ed. It had never occurred to him that his mental speech could reach Gorvy. It must have been possible only because of the three of them being trapped together in such close proximity.
Yes, the three of them—they were not two but three. And Jerome didn’t know that. That might give them some advantage. How or what was not apparent at the moment, but Petros had faith that it would become so, and wasted no time communicating that belief to his fellow prisoners.
She could do nothing to Jerome at present, so Marta concentrated on building a shield of protection around herself. She wished she could mindspeak so she could warn Kyla to do the same. Kyla ought to think of it on her own, but would she? She seemed to have become totally ineffective. Coming here with no plan had been foolish, and having been caught up in the loop of shouting and recriminations was inexcusable in Marta’s estimation, even if Jerome had trapped her and Lore and Renni in it. He’d been able to do it only because Kyla had not resisted. When Kyla joined Renni in hurling accusations at Lore, Jerome easily formed the loop that kept that argument going.
“Well, Marta and Kyla, Wonder Workers, what wonders are you dreaming up?” Jerome’s voice boomed. He was enjoying this, curse him.
“And speaking of dreaming, how’s little Dreama doing? Cute little thing. I think I’d like to take another look at her. Lore, go and fetch her for me.”
Marta whirled around to confront Lore. “Don’t you dare!”
At the same time, Kyla cried out, “No, Lore. Resist him.”
The young man gaped at Jerome, then glanced at Kyla. “I wo—”
“Now, Lore, you want to keep those very helpful gifts I gave you, don’t you?” Jerome smiled that false smile Marta knew all too well. “Just bring the child here to me. That’s not asking much, is it?”
“He’s asking you to betray all the rest of us,” Marta snapped.
“I don’t want to do it. He’s forcing me. I can’t help myself.”
“You mean he’s using coercion?” Marta demanded. “I don’t think so. I’d sense it.”
“And so would I.” A well-dr
essed, middle-aged man stepped toward Lore. Marta couldn’t remember his name, but she recalled that he was a professor of something or other. “As coercion is one of my gifts,” he continued, “I recognize it in others.”
Jerome sneered. “Do you now? Do you really think that just because you have a certain talent, you can recognize that talent in someone else? What a foolish idea. I’ll show you just how foolish.”
The professor drew himself up proudly and glared indignantly at Jerome, whose raucous laughter told Marta how much he was enjoying this.
“I’m not using coercion on my friend Lore, but you could have used it to prevent his carrying out my command. Now, though, I think you’ll find it no longer possible.”
“Lore, bring Veronica back with you, not Dreama,” Kyla said.
Did Kyla really think Jerome would allow that?
The professor slumped like a deflated balloon. Jerome must have blocked the man’s gift of coercion.
“Go on, now, Lore. Bring the baby here to me. Hurry.”
Lore disappeared from their midst.
Marta’s fury needed an outlet. She wanted to slap sense into Kyla, prod her into action. Knowing how much Jerome would enjoy seeing that display of temper, she resisted the urge. Better to seize the initiative and act on her own to get the Community together, get them organized. How could she do that with Jerome watching her every move?
She tried to recall what gifts each person had. Veronica had told her what they were as she’d introduced each one to Marta and Ed, but Marta had not seen the gifts in operation, and the stress of all that had happened and was happening drove the memory from her mind. She needed help.
Help came from an unexpected source. Miss Marta, Jerome took my power of coercion, but I also have the ability to project my thoughts into someone’s mind. I’m testing to see whether he took that power as well. If this thought reaches you, just nod.
The professor! She gave a slight nod.
Can you transmit your thoughts to me? came the question.
If only she could. But that was not one of her gifts. She had to find another way to communicate with the professor.
“No,” she said, looking up at Jerome. She paused before adding, “No! You will not get Dreama again.”
Lore had not returned—with or without Dreama—or Veronica. Could that be a good sign? Jerome seemed unconcerned. “We’ll see about that,” he said.
I assume your first “No” was in answer to my question, the professor’s words entered her thoughts.
“Yes,” she said and again paused briefly before adding, “we will.”
The professor had the information she needed. He could send it to her if she could let him know. She had to proceed very cautiously.
“Look, Jerome,” she said, “you’re making a game out of this, having great fun playing with us like a cat with a mouse. And like that cat, you have every advantage, so it isn’t really a very fair game. I suppose you don’t care about that, but couldn’t it be just a bit more fair? I don’t even know what skills most of these people have, so I have no idea whom to call on for help. How can I offer you any challenge?”
“Your friend Kyla knows their gifts. She brought them all here to stand against me. She must have come with a plan.”
“I suppose she did, but she’s not doing anything. I guess you have her under some sort of spell.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Kyla snapped. “I am doing something, though it may not look like it to you.”
Kyla’s response bewildered Marta. She had believed Jerome had somehow bespelled Kyla. If not, what was Kyla doing?
The answer came to her in a sudden flash of insight. Kyla must be communicating with the Power-Giver. Probably begging him for advice and help. But Marta had no confidence in Alair. She preferred to rely on the professor. She cast him a covert glance.
And as she’d hoped, he understood what she wanted. I can tell you each person’s talents. But you’d better seem to be preoccupied with something else so as not to arouse Jerome’s suspicions.
Recognizing the wisdom of that advice, Marta walked over to the false fountain in which Ed and another member of the group stood unmoving. They could see her, even if their immobility allowed no hint of their awareness. “Ed,” she said loudly, “Even if you can’t hear me, maybe you can read my lips. I love you and I will get you out of here.”
“Ah, how sweet,” Jerome cooed. “So tender. But making a false promise like that isn’t really very loving.”
“It’s no false promise,” she snapped, and again looked at her husband. But she concentrated, not on Ed, but on the information she was receiving from the professor. Her back to Jerome as she faced Ed, she mouthed the names and talents that the professor was placing within her mind. Maybe Ed could read her lips and derive some hope from her listing the names and talents of the gifted, but she was doing it as a mnemonic device.
Winter, the young man hunched over the sketchpad, was an empath. Not much help. Trille, the pretty young woman standing off to herself, was a singer, and used song to control water much as Kyla used song to do such things as read the Breyadon and open locks. And windspeak, but if the professor knew that, he didn’t mention it. Without water anywhere nearby, Trille’s talent was of little use. Zauna could see distant places and sometimes future events in her crystal globe. Not much help there, either.
The Honorable Camsen Wellner, priest of Ondin, had more to offer. He could create illusions and could throw and sculpt fire. Unfortunately, he hesitates to use his talents, the professor noted. He feels that the gifts of magic are an affront to Ondin. But I believe he will use them to save lives when it comes to that.
It has come to that. Marta wished she could send back that thought.
Darnell Mack, the wife of Gorvy, the man in the fountain with Ed, is a shape-shifter. She transforms into a wolf.
Marchion, the gentleman standing just to the left of Darnell, can see auras and read the person’s mood and mental and physical condition from them. That may not be of much use, but he is also an enhancer. That can most definitely be of help.
Renni was, she learned, a new member of the Community. So far as Professor Morence knew, her only gift was to suppress a person’s memories. However, the professor suspected she had other gifts as yet undiscovered. That, he confided, was Kyla’s suspicion as well.
Lore had the gifts of transferring an object from one place or person to another so long as the destination was familiar to him. But clearly Jerome had somehow bestowed additional gifts on the young man, including that of transferring himself to another place. What other gifts he might have been given, the professor didn’t know. He did opine that Lore seemed ambivalent about aligning himself with Jerome and could perhaps be persuaded to aid the Community instead.
As if on cue, at the moment the professor sent that thought, Lore reappeared, holding a squalling infant. “Sorry to be so long,” he said. “The kid was being fed when I arrived, and I had to wait until she finished her bottle, and then she needed a change, so I waited for that too.”
At last, Kyla acted. She sent a loud, high song soaring into the dry air. A wind sprang up, carrying a load of sand in its trail. The wind spun between Marta and Jerome, bringing with it a whirl of sand that hid Jerome from Marta’s sight and allowed her to edge close to Lore. The roaring, sand-filled wind drowned Dreama’s loud cries. Marta snatched the wailing baby from Lore’s arms, at the same time extending her protective shield to include Dreama. She gathered the baby into her arms and hugged her to her breast. The child’s wailing ceased.
The wind slowed, lessened, dropping its load of sand bit by bit until the hot desert air was clear again. Seeing the infant in Marta’s arms, Jerome sent out a blast of power that hit but did not penetrate her shield.
Jerome laughed, but this time the laughter had a false edge to it. He was more annoyed than he cared to let on. But, Marta reflected, being annoyed isn’t the same as being afraid. Kyla’s act had not frightened him. Maybe Mar
ta’s next move could.
Kyla, her wind song concluded, shouted at Lore, “You fool! Can’t you see you don’t need to do Jerome’s bidding?”
Lore did look a bit chagrined, but he perked up when Jerome said, “Need to do my bidding? No. He’s an intelligent young man. He’s smart enough to ally himself with a winner rather than losers like you, Kyla Wonder Worker. Let’s see how easy you find it not to do what I tell you to. Bow to me.”
Jerome waved his hand, and Kyla fell to her knees, facing Jerome, and bent to touch her head to the sand.
Poor Kyla! Jerome had to demonstrate his power over Kyla to counteract her sandstorm summoning. Marta could do nothing to help her. She was expending most of her power on the protective shielding that now safeguarded Dreama too. Marta thought about what she’d learned from the professor. Which member of the Community might be of help?
If only she could mindspeak! Marta had an idea, but it required Professor Morence’s help. She had to act while Jerome’s attention was on Kyla. She moved near the professor and whispered, “Send to Renni. Tell her to see whether she can bind his powers.”
That isn’t one of her known talents, came the professor’s thought. Nor, so far as I know, is mindspeech.
“Let’s find out,” Marta urged. Both using mindspeech and binding power were related to finding and deleting memories. And the professor had said Renni might have powers she was as yet unaware of. And not trained in. But the girl was clever; Marta had seen that.
Marta watched Renni, saw her eyes widen for a moment, and surmised that the girl had received the professor’s thought. Renni glanced at her, and Marta gave a quick, encouraging smile.
Nothing happened. Renni shrugged. Apparently she could neither bind power nor, despite having received the professor’s mental sending, could she respond through mindspeech any more than Marta could.
Marta risked another whisper. “Send to all the others. Ask if anyone else can bind or quench.”
The thought boomed in her brain. Gorvy Mack is a quencher. That doesn’t do us any good, does it?
A Mix of Magics (Arucadi: The Beginning Book 3) Page 16