Convergence (The Blending Book 1)

by Sharon Green

  "You most certainly did pass," the man said with a broad smile from where he crouched beside me. "I would have offered my congratulations at once, but you were more in need of refreshment. And it should please you even more to know that you're the only one to pass in this facility today."

  For an instant hearing that did please me, but then I remembered what failure meant and felt ill instead. How many Middle talents had been tested here today? And how many hadn't lived…?

  "Why did you do that?" I asked in the strongest whisper I could, finding it impossible not to shudder. "I came here determined to pass your test, but you didn't care. You put my life on the line, then turned your back and walked away."

  "Explaining is always so difficult," he said with a sigh, no longer smiling. "Please try to understand that not everyone looks at the matter as you did. Many come here with the intention of deliberately failing the test so that they might return to their former lives, and we simply cannot allow that. A High practitioner must be the best of the best, so we force all applicants to show their best with the most effective means at our disposal. A life-threat always brings out the most in people, no matter what they meant to show or hide."

  "And if their best isn't good enough, they die," I summed up, no longer looking at him. "I can understand your need, but I hope you'll forgive me for not having much sympathy with it. When can I go home?"

  "As soon as the coach we've sent for arrives," he answered with another sigh. "You should be somewhat returned to yourself by then, and you'll have a day or two to rest before your next session. Remember to wear your identification at all times, and please refrain from discussing your experience with anyone. Disclosure penalties are rather strict, and I would dislike seeing you incur any of them. And - oh yes, I'm also supposed to discuss your house."

  "What about my house?" I asked, suddenly frightened again. Could it have been claimed by my father while I was in the midst of struggling to save my life? I wouldn't have been surprised…

  "You've registered your house as a residence for applicants," he reminded me, smiling faintly again. "Now that you've passed your own test, the registration is automatically accepted. You've said you can accommodate eight lodgers in addition to yourself, so they'll begin sending people now and the testing centers will pay for their lodging. Any food, clothing, or other needs will have to be paid for by the individual applicant."

  "What are they supposed to supply it from?" I asked, delighted and relieved that my house would be safe for a time. "Are they expected to find jobs?"

  "Hardly," the man answered with a chuckle. "They'll be too busy with their regularly scheduled sessions for that, and shouldn't need a job in any event. Assuming they continue to do well they'll be eligible for the competitions, the winning of which will bring a bonus in gold. That, of course, goes for you as well as your guests. You'll be given the name of someone to contact in case of any difficulties with your guests, and that's all there is to it for the moment."

  "At the moment, that's all I can cope with," I muttered, finally feeling enough recovered to look down at myself. My dress was probably ruined beyond repair, part of my hair was flyaway and the rest hung in greasy strands, and the shoe I'd used to hammer at the piece of bar still lay where I'd dropped it, just past the doorway into this hall. Whether or not it was usable, I still meant to wear it home. Looking like a hag was one thing; going half barefoot like some wild woman was quite another.

  "Let's see now if you're able to stand," the man said, straightening to walk to where my shoe lay and bending to retrieve it. "This seems somewhat the worse for wear, but it should still serve to get you home. Dama?"

  He'd come back to put his hand out to me, so I took it and used his help to stand. I was still a bit unsteady, but his arm about my shoulders helped to keep me erect until my balance returned, and then he bent to replace my shoe.

  "A perfect fit," he commented with a smile after straightening again. "But with a lady like you, that comes as no surprise. Your coach should hopefully be here by now, so I'll take you to it. And I do hope we'll meet again after your time with the sessions."

  He wrapped my right arm over his left, but suddenly the look in his eyes said the gesture was for more than offering support. If I'd had the strength I would have shivered at the intensity of his stare, but I'd seen the same so often that weariness won out over my usual reaction. Even after having been turned into a hag, I still held interest for the man beside me. The idea was very depressing, but right now I had too many other things to worry about. He'd said there would be "sessions" and competitions; what did that mean? Did I have enough strength left to stand knowing what it meant?

  The answer to my last question was absolutely not, so I made no effort to question my companion as he guided me around the hall and finally to a door that led outside. Just beyond the door a coach stood waiting, and once the man had helped me inside, he paused to study me in a different way.

  "One more thing before you leave," he said after a moment. "The way you reacted at the beginning of the test, being so quick to strike in attack… I'm sure you know that under other circumstances, the authorities might well have been informed of your behavior. Please do try to curb that particular impulse, as someone might mistake you for a talent out of control. That would surely interfere with any future meetings between us, so I'd hate to see it happen. Get some rest, but keep the point clearly in mind."

  I could feel my cheeks go even more pallid as he closed the door and told the coach driver he could leave. The man had reminded me of what I'd done when I'd been pushed into the testing room, which was strike out with all my talent. Doing that to people was against the law, since most unpleasant situations can be avoided with the use of a good deal less than full strength. If I were charged with being out of control and then convicted, I could end up condemned to the Deep Caverns for the rest of my life.

  I shuddered and trembled for a while at the thought of such a fate, but then I discovered that it is possible to be too tired to be afraid. I had no strength left to sustain the fear, so I just let it go as I looked out of the coach window. I did have to be more careful in the future, which I should be able to do once I'd had a good night's sleep. And once I really understood that the first battle in the war with my parents was over, and I'd won it more completely than I'd dared to hope.

  Smiling out into the late afternoon streets felt strange, but I felt strange. I'd wanted to pass that test more than anything in the world, and despite a small but intense core of doubt deep inside me, I'd actually done it. Even now that was hard to believe, but the thrill of the realization still felt marvelous. I'd passed the test and survived, and my house would remain mine for at least a little while longer.

  The coach took me right to my door up the winding dr!veway, and only after I'd gotten out did I discover that the driver had already been paid and tipped. Warla met me at the door with wide-eyed concern for my condition, but that changed to a stunned expression when I told her I'd passed. Apparently she hadn't had any more faith in my doing that than my core of doubt had, and it felt wonderful to tell her she'd been wrong. Then I sent her to my bedchamber to fetch a change of clothes, and spoke to the staff about expecting house guests until she returned. Once she had I told her the same, took the clothes, and headed directly for the bath house.

  There are bath houses all over the city for the use of ordinary people, but those of my late husband's class took pride in never having to use them. Our private bath house stood just beyond the back of the main house in its own little bower, a pretty addition to one side just before the gardens.

  I'd grown up being used to a private bath house, so it had taken me a while to understand Gimmis's pride in the one he had. Once I understood that my husband hadn't been raised by an affluent family, I began to understand more than one thing about him.

  Paper lanterns had been lit along the short path to the bath house, and once I reached it I paused to hang the "occupied" sign on the door. Gimmis had al
ways been very strict about that, always hating the idea of being disturbed in his bath. That was because of the physical abnormalities his illness had long since begun to cause in him, and his bath time had always been one of freedom for me. Short-lived freedom, perhaps, but treasured all the same.

  All four of the lamps had been lit in the bath house as well, which was definitely a lucky thing for me. After what I'd been through I couldn't imagine lighting so much as a spark, and would have had to resort to mechanical means if the lamps hadn't already been lit. As I closed the door behind me and went to the towel cabinet, I tried to remember the last time I'd used a flint to strike a spark. I couldn't quite remember the time, but that wasn't surprising. At the moment, I was having trouble remembering my own name.

  Stripping off my filthy dress and ruined shoes was delightful, as was freeing my hair for washing. The bath house was just the right size, small enough to be cozy and intimate and warm, large enough that the polished wood of its walls gleamed only a little in the lamplight. It was dim and comfortable with padded chairs in bright floral patterns to sit on, thin cotton rugs to keep your feet from the tiled floor, padded mats to stretch out on, and molded areas inside the large bath itself that held your body gently while you soaked. That was what I really looked forward to: soaking some of the aches out of my body.

  The water was delightfully warm as I stepped down into it, kept that way by the efforts of two of the house servants who had minor Fire talents. After submerging completely for a moment I moved to one of the molded areas and sank down into it, letting free a deep sigh as I did so. The water felt marvelous to my tired, aching body, and I thought about spending the entire night right there without moving. If I hadn't been so hungry I would have considered the idea more seriously, but I felt hollow all the way down to my toes. I had only a limited time to soak before dinner would be ready, but coming back again after dinner was always an option…

  I must have drifted off to sleep for a while, my head supported and cushioned by the padded headrest positioned just above the molded area. The gentle current of the recirculating water - provided by another servant with Water magic - was more than lulling, and I remember thinking myself in some private underground cavern, being carried off by the warm waters of its hidden stream. I floated along, finding the experience delicious - and then I jerked awake at the sound of the door opening! At first I thought it was Gimmis and my heart began to race, but then I remembered that Gimmis was dead. The man who had simply walked in was a stranger, and fear suddenly changed to outrage.

  "Who are you and what are you doing in here?" I demanded, trying to shield my naked body with my arms. "No, never mind about answering that. Just get out of here!"

  "Not until I've had my share of that water," the fool replied in a deep voice, looking directly at me as he made his way to the towel cabinet. "I feel singed from head to foot, not to mention broken and stomped on and covered in old sweat. I need that bath, but don't let me hurry you. Stay as long as you like."

  I almost sputtered in outrage at that as well as at the way he glanced at me before starting to search for a towel. He was a very large man with long pale-blond hair, light eyes, a deep tan, and broad shoulders. Obviously he was very used to getting his way with women, but this wasn't going to be one of the times he did. I used the opportunity of his back being turned to scramble out of the bath and wrap myself in my towel, and then I turned back to him. What a shame I was too exhausted to do anything but talk.

  "I don't care what you need, or even who you are," I told him firmly, more than simply annoyed. "This bath house belongs to me, and I want you out of it this minute. If you refuse to leave, I'll call the guardsmen and have you arrested for breaking in here."

  "I didn't break in, I walked in," he countered calmly, having turned back to look at me as he began to unbutton his shirt. "And if you own this house, I was told you would be expectin' me. I'm Vallant Ro, here in this accursed town to test for somethin' I never wanted. If you dislike havin' me here, you can thank the fools in our government for my presence. If not for them, I'd already be on my way back home."

  I stared at him openmouthed for a moment, suddenly so furious that it was a good thing I'd have trouble reaching fire now. I'd had to go through hell because of people like him, people who didn't want to test for High and therefore had to be forced into doing their best! I grew so furious that I barely noticed he now stood bare-chested, his body as well-tanned as his face. I did notice, however, when he reached to his trousers and began to open them without hesitation. I lost most of what I'd meant to say, and could only turn quickly to face the wall.

  "I'm going to speak to someone about having you put elsewhere," I finally choked out, hating the heavy heat of embarrassment I felt in my cheeks. "You haven't the first idea about civilized behavior, and I refuse to have you in my house a moment longer than absolutely necessary. And if they can't find another place for you, I hope you'll need to sleep in the street!"

  Rather than hearing words in reply, I heard the definite splash of water in the bath that said a large body had plunged into it. My cheeks flamed hot again, and not just because I'd never seen a naked male body despite having been married. Gimmis had always forced me to close my eyes, even in the dark of his bedchamber. It was the rudeness of this lout that disturbed me so, a rudeness made up of his intrusion and his stare and the way I hadn't been able to say what I wanted to him. I stepped barefoot into my shoes, gathered my clean clothes awkwardly with one hand while the other kept the towel closed about me, and simply got out of there.

  But once outside, I paused to remove the "occupied" sign from the door. If this Vallant Ro didn't mind intruding on me, he shouldn't mind having someone else doing the same to him. And his presence guaranteed the other applicants couldn't be far behind, hopefully with one among them who was as rude and intrusive as Ro himself!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Vallant Ro looked around at the fire circling him, at the same time fighting to clear his thoughts. All his basic self wanted to do was escape the confines of that room, going straight through a wall if necessary. The fact that it obviously wasn't possible to go through the walls didn't seem to matter to that basic part of him, but it mattered to the rest. There did have to be a way out of there, and only rational thought would find it.

  Vallant looked around for a third time, distantly finding it strange that the fire concerned him less than the confined space of the room. That had to be because holding off the fire was fractionally easier, even if it wasn't possible to put it out completely. He'd hung a curtain of light moisture all around himself not far from the inner ring of flames, and so far the flames hadn't gone past it.

  But that didn't mean they wouldn't, so he had to get moving. A way out … a way out… As he continued to look around, he felt heavy frustration mounting. There didn't seem to be a way out, but he'd already decided that that was impossible. Something had to be there, but without a usable door and with no windows except for that small, windowlike door high in the wall-

  Vallant briefly cursed his stupidity under his breath, at last understanding one of the reasons his recent guide had appeared at the window-door. That was Vallant's way out, but how was he supposed to reach it? He'd never managed to learn to fly like a bird, although people claimed he swam like a fish…

  And of course that was it. Water, the element of his talent, what he was there to be tested in. In order to save himself he'd have to use his talent, an act he'd intended to refrain from. This time it was the government he cursed under his breath, hating the way they'd manipulated him into doing his best. It wasn't fair, and he meant to tell them so as soon as he was out of there.

  But first he had to get out, which wouldn't be easy. That large amount of water he could sense somewhere nearby wasn't large enough to flood the room and float him up to the door, at the same time quenching those flames. It would have to be used differently, but how? How could that large but limited amount of water get him out of here?
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br />   Vallant noticed that he was sweating harder, and not just from his terror at being locked in such a small room. That ring of flames had somehow moved past his curtain of water and now burned that much closer to him. It was circling tighter and tighter, intent on surrounding and smothering him as well as burning…

  Once again Vallant had to fight blind panic, and this time pulling out of it was harder. The thought of being enclosed by the fire really was harder to deal with than being burned by it, but putting out one section of it and escaping the circle wasn't likely to help. It was logical to expect the fire to follow wherever he went, and would undoubtedly trap him against the wall if necessary. He had to get out of that room to escape the double trap, and he had to use his Water magic to do it. But how…?

  He began to wipe the sweat from his face again, wishing the room could be cooler, and just that easily he had his answer. Ice, he would have to form ice from the water and that way he'd be able to reach the window door. But with most of the room's heat coming from that fire, how was he supposed to form and maintain ice? Curse those codding bureaucrats! That was why they threatened him with fire! To make forming ice that much harder!

  Vallant briefly considered clamping down on his temper, then dismissed the idea with a snarl. He needed every advantage he could get, and anger - directed anger -often increased his strength. And took his attention from other things, like a crippling fear. He just had to stay angry long enough to get the job done, which would be hard enough even that way. Ice, in all that heat…

  But it could be done in a small way, so it ought to be possible on a large scale with enough strength behind the effort. First he would have to establish some protection from those flames, and then he could start building his ice bridge. But what shape should it be in? And did he really want a bridge…?

  It would have been nice if Vallant could have spent a while considering those questions, but he simply didn't have the time. Everything including his own mind pushed at him to hurry, but he had to hurry cautiously. A serious mistake would mean needing to start all over again, and by then the flames would be right on top of him…