Convergence (The Blending Book 1)

by Sharon Green

  "If that," Vallant agreed, looking as serious as everyone else. "I'd put my money on tomorrow bein' their last real chance, with the day after used to … clean up the leftovers. If the testin' people actually waited till week's end, half of those left would stay in their residences, already havin' given up."

  "You're probably right," Lorand agreed as well from my left, a dark shadow heavy in his expression. "First they'll take care of the leftovers, and then - what? When will it get to be our turn?"

  "Probably not until we fail in the competitions," Rion said, sounding more distant than he usually did. "But first we have to fail, which I, personally, have no intentions of doing. Success will bring more than gold, so we'd all do well to concentrate on nothing else."

  Jovvi and Pagin Holter nodded in abstraction, but Vallant and Lorand looked as uncertain as I felt. I fully intended to do my absolute best, of course, but the ghost of what-if-that's-not-good-enough? continued to haunt me. I had no idea what the competitions would consist of, but that damned uncertainty I was cursed with kept whispering doubts and fears.

  The meal was a very silent one, with each of us wrapped mostly in our thoughts. Once I looked up and happened to meet Vallant's gaze, and he tried to smile at me reassuringly. I tried to return his smile in the same way, but neither one of us succeeded. But we did try, and that in itself made me feel a bit better.

  When everyone had finished eating, we moved our silent group out into the front hall. Pagin Holter disappeared the way he usually did, followed this time by Rion. I thought it strange that he would walk off so abruptly, but then Vallant came over to me and everyone else was forgotten.

  "I hope you've been thinkin' about that stroll I suggested earlier," he said with a slightly better smile. "After that announcement, we need it more than ever."

  I returned his smile and was about to answer, when a knock came at the door. One of the servants was there to see if we wanted anything - or possibly to listen in on our conversations - and he went to the door and opened it. Standing just outside was my father, the person I least wanted to see in the entire world.

  "Well, good evening, my dear," he said, coming inside only a single step before stopping to smile at me. "I thought you would all be finished with dinner by this time, and I'm pleased to see I was right."

  "What do you want?" I asked, fighting to keep my trembling from showing. "I thought I told you not to come back. I won't be sold again, and especially not to that - that-"

  "Actually, child, I'm here to look after my daughter's best interests," he interrupted smoothly. "That – gentleman - beside you announced to all of us that you and he were engaged, but I'm afraid that may not be true. If what I suspect is so, the man has betrayed you by not mentioning that he's already engaged to another woman entirely."

  I barely had time to remember that Vallant had said we were promised to each other on my parents' last visit, when my father abruptly stepped aside. Behind him was a very beautiful woman, with thick auburn hair and dark, sultry eyes, and when she saw Vallant she smiled dazzlingly and hurried inside.

  "Vallant, my love, how wonderful that I've actually found you!" she exclaimed, rushing into his arms. "Daddy was terribly disappointed that I didn't insist you marry me before you left, and so he sent me here with enough gold to arrange everythin' now. He and Momma are only a few days behind me, so they'll certainly be here for the ceremony."

  "By a happy coincidence, the young lady's father and I are business associates," my father purred while I stood there with my mind clanging in shock. "She came to me asking for assistance in finding her intended, and you may imagine my surprise when her description seemed to match the young man involved with my daughter. You really must-"

  "Get out," I interrupted his gloating in a choked voice, hating him more than I'd ever thought was possible. "Get out of my house and don't you dare come back!"

  I turned and ran for the stairs then, shaking off the hand Vallant tried to put on my arm despite the woman crawling all over him. He undoubtedly had a perfectly reasonable explanation why he'd neglected to mention that he was promised to another woman, but I didn't want to hear it. He'd managed to hurt me more than Gimmis had ever accomplished, and I was on the verge of losing control of myself. If I'd stayed there even a moment longer, flames would have leaped out to consume everyone in reach.

  But when I reached my bedchamber with two doors closed firmly behind me, the only thing that came was tears. I sat on the floor in my beautiful silk and lace dress, sobbing hopelessly, wishing I were dead. For a very short while I'd let myself believe there really was such a thing as pleasure, but it was a lie. The world and life contained nothing but pain, and I'd never let myself forget that again. Or ever let anyone come close. Not ever … not again … not when it hurt so much to be wrong…

  * * *

  Vallant tried to call out Tamrissa's name to stop her, to tell her it wasn't true, but Mirra chose that moment to throw her arms around his neck and smother the words with a kiss. She hung on like a leech with the strength of a pit bull, and by the time Vallant had freed himself, Tamrissa was gone.

  "Why Val, darlin', whatever is makin' you treat me in so ungentlemanly a way?" Mirra pouted after catching her balance. She'd nearly fallen from the shove he'd given her, and he thought it was a shame that she hadn't. "I know you're glad to see me, darlin', just as glad as I am to see you. Why don't we go to your room to … discuss the weddin'…"

  She grinned at that and tried to close with him again, but Vallant put a hand on her chest and shoved again. This time she stumbled back into the man who'd brought her, hopefully crushing his foot at the very least.

  "My daddy taught me to be a gentleman with ladies, which means you don't qualify, Mirra," he growled over her screech of outrage. "You know well enough that we weren't engaged, just talkin' about it, and even that ended before I left. Now, I believe I heard the lady of this house order the slimy cur who brought you to leave, and I want you gone along with him."

  "How dare you, sir!" Tamrissa's father hissed as Mirra went into that full pout she had so much practice with. "Such denigration is actionable, which you'll find out when I have you hauled into court!"

  "Sellin' a daughter to a sadist and then tryin' it again means you deserve every filthy name a man can put lips to," Vallant countered, his growl becoming more pronounced. "You go right ahead and sue me, and then the whole city can know what you are. But right now get out and take – her - with you."

  "You'll be sorry you said that, darlin'," Mirra hissed while Tamrissa's father went pale with fury, her words obviously referring to the disgust she'd heard in Vallant's tone. "You're the one I want and the one I mean to get, but you'll be real sorry you spoke to me like that. Just wait and see if you're not."

  Her head came up with a sniff and then she turned and flounced out, followed by Tamrissa's father after the man gave Vallant a small bow. He'd recovered control of himself so quickly that Vallant frowned, wondering what the man could be up to now. He was far from beaten, there was no doubt of that, but something much more important clamored for Vallant's attention. As soon as the door was closed he turned toward the stairs, but Jovvi's hand was on his arm before he could take even a single step.

  "Wait," she said, the intensity in her tone halting him more successfully than chains would have. "She won't speak to you now, and even more importantly won't listen. She's all locked up inside again, and needs time to get over the disappointment."

  "But there's nothin' for her to be disappointed about," Vallant protested with a chill touching his insides. "Mirra was lyin', and she's got to understand that."

  "She won't believe it," Jovvi said, sympathy pouring from her like water. "I could feel that clearly, and even understand why to a small extent. Believing things leaves you open to being hurt, and she can't take any more pain. It's easier for her to simply refuse to believe, but give her some time. She got around the problem once, so there's no reason why she can't do it again."

 
"I'm willin' to give her all the time she needs, but we still don't know how much the testin' authority means to give us." Vallant knew his voice had gone lifeless, which fit the situation perfectly. "The longer I know that girl the more deeply in love I fall, but now she won't even talk to me. And I don't even know how long I have to change her mind. What if it's not long enough…"

  Vallant let the words trail off, but no one added anything in the way of encouragement. Only Jovvi and Coll were left in the hall with him, and they seemed to have problems of their own. The careful distance between them seemed deliberate, and the pain he felt in them seemed more than a mirroring of his. Maybe he ought to say something to them…

  But words of compassion refused to come, so he simply went upstairs to his room and lay down on the bed. Everything had been going so beautifully, and now … now they were dirt and ashes. He'd managed to bring her around once so maybe he could do it again, but how long would it take? He would have willingly spent years, but they might turn out to have no more than weeks. Or days.

  "Damn Mirra, damn that travesty of a father, and damn me for handlin' this so badly," Vallant whispered into the lonely silence of the room. "But most of all, damn that testin' authority. Damn … damn … damn…!"

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Lorand joined the other men in climbing into the first coach, leaving the second for the ladies. Everyone was unusually quiet this morning except for the one time Ro spoke to Tamrissa in the dining room during breakfast. Tamrissa had apparently taken lessons from the now-absent Beldara Lant, her attitude telling everyone that she was entirely alone in the room.

  "I can see you don't want to talk to me, but this you're goin' to hear," Ro had said once Tamrissa was seated with a plate of food in front of her. "Mirra was lyin', and so was your father when he said I betrayed you. I did nothin' wrong, and if you insist on believin' their lies, you're helpin' them."

  Unless Tamrissa had stopped up her ears she must have heard him, but not even a flicker in her eyes had supported that. She just went on eating quietly and calmly, ignoring Ro along with the rest of the world. Mardimil and Holter had looked faintly puzzled, but neither had asked any questions.

  As the coach pulled away from the residence Lorand's thoughts returned for the thousandth time to what had gone on between Jovvi and him yesterday afternoon. The lovemaking had been as marvelous as he'd expected it to be, but nothing had gone right after that. He'd explained his point of view to Jovvi - and then she'd explained hers. He hadn't expected her to be so desperate for security, and he hadn't been able to argue her point of view. If he'd been wealthy it would have been a different story, but as it was…

  Lorand took a deep breath and let it out slowly, staring at the landscape going past without seeing it. He wasn't a wealthy man, so it was impossible to argue with Jovvi. He hadn't realized that her mother had actually sold her children, and the idea had disturbed him so much that he'd retreated to his room to rid himself of it in peace. He remembered wishing he were still back at the farm, where he'd had a small, secret room among the bales of hay in the barn.

  Whenever his father had spent part of the day talking about the future he intended his sons to have, Lorand would take the first opportunity to go to his private place and make his own plans. He'd decided early that he would not spend his life working for his father to save him the cost of hiring a Middle to help with the harder jobs. In his private place he'd repeated his vow over and over, until he'd grown big enough to make his own plans come true.

  Lorand remembered thinking about that as he began to cross the room, and then the craziest thing had happened. He'd tripped on and fallen over absolutely nothing, and ended up lying on top of the nothing. Feeling around finally gave him an idea about what it was, but that was even crazier. It felt just like the bales of hay which had contained his secret place, all the way down to the opening he would crawl through. The whole thing was a lot smoother, but more importantly it was also invisible.

  It had taken awhile for Lorand's battered thoughts to realize what it was, which was solidified air. For some reason Mardimil must have provided the thing, and Lorand had been too relieved to have his favorite place back to wonder how Mardimil had known. He'd simply crawled inside, and spent some time telling himself everything wasn't lost. He'd come to Gan Garee to earn a High practitioner's position, and if somehow he actually managed to do it, all his problems would be solved.

  He'd meant to thank Mardimil at dinner for his help, but Warla had made that announcement about Drowd and Beldara Lant and he'd forgotten all about it. Later Mardimil had disappeared and then there'd been that to-do with Ro and the woman and Tamrissa, and now it was really too late. Even if Mardimil hadn't looked distracted and withdrawn this morning, any thanks would seem like an afterthought about something trivial.

  And besides all that, Lorand was too worried about what was ahead of them to spend time trying to thank someone gracefully. They'd gone in a different direction this morning, and now the coach was crossing a small bridge which seemed to lead out of the city proper. The road they traveled wasn't a wide one and there were open fields on both sides of it. But not planted and tended fields. They'd been lying fallow for quite some time, and had gone mostly to grass.

  A couple of miles up the road the coach began to slow, and then they turned off onto another road of the same size. But on this one it was possible to see structures in the distance, ones that didn't seem to be buildings. It wasn't yet possible to see what they were instead, but waiting until the coach moved closer didn't help much. Walls of smoky resin blocked easy sight of the things, leaving only hand-painted metal symbols of the various aspects to differentiate one section from another.

  And those sections stretched out for quite a distance to both the left and right of the road. Their coach turned left, and a short way down it stopped in front of the symbol for Air magic. That made Mardimil the first to get out, which the man did without hesitation or comment. There was an opening in the resin wall behind the sign, and Mardimil disappeared through it as the coach began to move again.

  Next out were Holter and Ro, both of them leaving the coach in the same preoccupied way. We've become a group of strangers, Lorand thought as he watched them go, more so than when we first met. I'd wonder where all this was leading, but I don't think I want to know.

  The idea was unsettling, but before he could fall too deeply into considering it, it was his turn to leave the coach. He stepped out onto a resin walk near the sign of Earth magic, then went through the opening in the wall with almost no hesitation. The coach kept on going, undoubtedly to the area to the left of this new road up ahead, where other coaches stood. There were also two ordinary buildings over there, one much larger than the other. A stable for the horses, then, and a posting house for the drivers…

  And then Lorand was beyond the wall, and all other thoughts left him. What had looked like structures from a distance weren't; thin, transparent resin rested on poles of the same material, acting as a flat-topped roof over almost every foot of the vast area. Some parts were sectioned off with walls, making both larger and smaller areas, and some of the walls were smoky rather than clear. There also seemed to be chairs in some of the areas, multiple chairs in one of them along with tables. Most of the areas had something other than furniture, though, and Lorand was so intent on figuring out what the something was that he almost missed the man walking up to him.

  "Fascinating, isn't it?" the man asked with a friendly smile. He was a bit short of his middle years, a slightly rounded man not quite Lorand's size with a round face, brown hair, and mild brown eyes. "I'm Hestir, the Adept assigned to show you around. As you'll probably be the last newcomer, my job is almost over."

  The man didn't seem terribly upset about that, and his easy manner led Lorand into deciding to take a chance.

  "But I thought the others had until week's end to qualify," he protested mildly, as though only faintly curious. "Most of those in my sessions seemed rather determi
ned, so I expected to see them arrive only a short while after me."

  "Those in your session have been determined since they first arrived," Hestir responded with a dismissive laugh. "We've learned over the years that those who don't qualify by the third session at the latest usually don't ever manage it. There was one once, about nine years ago, who finally forced himself into qualifying at the last moment. Nothing came of it, though, since he couldn't quite get himself together for the competitions. But enough idle chatter, something I'm quite marvelous at. We'll start the tour over there."

  "Over there" was an area to the extreme left, a large one with comfortable chairs surrounding a core of tables and chairs obviously meant to be used for meals or snacks. There were a few people moving around some of the areas, but this one was empty.

  "When the others arrive, some of them will stop here for another cup of tea before beginning practice," Hestir said, the words more conversational than lecturing. "Behind that wall is a cooking area and a place for the servants, as those of us in this section take our lunch here. If you want a servant and there aren't any about, just ring that bell and one will come out from behind the wall."

  Hestir had pointed to a small cowbell hanging from one of the posts by a rope, another length of rope available to ring it with. Lorand nodded as though ringing for a servant was the most usual and unimportant thing in his life, and Hestir smiled.

  "Now, over here is our very first practice area," he said, leading the way to a series of smallish sections surrounded by smoky resin. "It's what you'll use to begin with, before you start the first of the competitions, but please don't confuse it with a warm-up area. Those are arranged around the sections devoted to interactive competition, between that and the individual competition area."

  "There are different kinds of competitions?" Lorand asked, surprised enough to stop where he was. "For some reason I thought there would be only one."