Convergence (The Blending Book 1)

by Sharon Green

  "I see," Jovvi said, then waited for the returning servant to set down a teapot and cups, pour for each of them, and then bow and leave again. "My goodness, they are efficient," she added.

  "Once you reach this level you're entitled to a bit of pampering," Genovir responded, almost taking the compliment personally. "And once you've gone through hours of practice - or a competition - you'll appreciate it even more. Our range may not be as varied as some of the other aspects, but it can be more intense."

  Jovvi nodded and sipped her tea after adding sugar, then let her gaze wander over everything in sight. A canopy was suspended from poles high above their heads, ready to ward off the heat of a noon sun when it arrived. Beyond the area of tables where they sat was a wide lawn of lovely grass, interrupted only by four stone paths. Each path led to an odd-looking round structure of resin, two of them small, two large. The small ones were to the left and the large to the right, and Genovir noticed Jovvi's curiosity.

  "The small buildings are practice areas, the large, competition areas," she supplied after sipping at her own tea. "The small resin building to the left is where you'll begin, at first taking up where you left off at the sessions. The only difference here is, you'll be facing the people whose emotions you must balance, rather than having them behind walls and out of sight somewhere."

  "The way they were during the sessions and even at the test," Jovvi said, knowing she showed a small frown. "But why am I suddenly going to be facing them? I can affect them just as easily through a wall."

  "Not through a resin wall, and that's the only sort we have here," Genovir responded, still projecting nothing but kindliness and patience. "In addition to that, you have to become accustomed to working with the people around you. We're all of us raised not to interfere with those who are closest to us, sometimes even in matters of self-protection. You've reached the level where that changes, and you must become accustomed to the idea."

  She gave Jovvi a moment to think that over, a moment Jovvi gladly took. She'd used her talent both to defend herself and to further her career, but at all other times she'd followed the restrictions and hadn't gone beyond soothing an occasional someone in great distress. She'd been taught, along with every other child, that using her ability to affect other people was both disgusting and absolutely forbidden, and it was going to take some effort to get beyond that.

  "You'll have six people to work with, and they'll begin by shaking fists at you and simply being angry," Genovir continued after the pause. "That will give you a sense of being endangered, which should help to get you past ingrained reluctance. And they'll all be standing together, which will make balancing their emotions easier. Once you've mastered that they'll separate into two groups, which you'll find is just a bit harder to handle. After that there will be three groups, and finally all six will stand individually around you. When you can meet and master that situation, you'll be ready to move on to the next small building."

  "What's done there?" Jovvi asked, mostly to keep from thinking about having six people all around her who had to be balanced into harmlessness and serenity. That would be much harder than what she'd already done, but somehow she'd have to manage.

  "The second small building is where you'll practice reversing what you did in the first," came the answer, the words so smooth and matter-of-fact that Jovvi was instantly on guard against showing the wrong reaction. "The people you'll be working with will just stand there, and it will be up to you to change serenity into anger, and perhaps into some of the other emotions. We can do both with our talent, you know. Unbalancing is merely the opposite side of the coin."

  "So it is," Jovvi agreed with a faint smile, inwardly more than a little disturbed. Whatever were these people after…? "And when I complete that part of the practice, then comes the competition? How does that work?"

  "My, aren't we eager," Genovir said with a smile that was just a shade too pleasant. "I certainly do hope our ability is able to match our ambition. But of course it will, so you must be told that the first competitions are time, strength, and speed tests where you are, in effect, competing with yourself. When you prove your mastery over your current peers, you then step forward to face those who have risen to the heights before you. So you see the whole thing is quite simple."

  "Simple to discuss, yes," Jovvi said, making certain her tone was wry. "Accomplishing it will be another matter entirely, but I have cause to be concerned about the gold they told us could be won during the competitions. In just a short while I'll need to pay for my food again, and I don't yet have the full amount."

  "Ah, yes, I'd forgotten about that," the woman said, and now her smile was considerably more relaxed. "The pressure of needing to earn your supper. Well, you need not fear an empty belly quite yet, as you'll earn a silver din for each section of the first building that you master, and two silver for every section of the second. Does that ease your mind?"

  "Yes, thank you, it certainly does," Jovvi replied, making certain she sounded gratefully relieved. "Hopefully I'll have enough time to earn what I need for week's end, and after that I can work toward future times. Yes, that should do quite nicely, and I appreciate your putting my mind at rest."

  "That's one of the things I'm here for, my dear," Genovir replied, superiority fairly oozing out of her. The impression of total balance was a false facade, Jovvi could see now, erected to hide a rather shallow personality. And as easy as it was to get through the facade, the woman couldn't be terribly strong. And yet she called herself an Adept, which was supposed to be a position only just below that of High practitioner.

  Jovvi sipped her tea in silence, trying to make sense of what now lay before her. The practicing she would soon do had a purpose, she couldn't be more certain of that. But the nature of the purpose was hidden behind requirements without explanation and statements apparently designed to raise thoughtless protest.

  Like their short discussion about the second practice building. Jovvi had the very strong conviction that she was supposed to have protested the idea of creating unbalance; that would have shown she felt concern over others, the strength of her protest indicating just how strong that concern actually was. They could have been looking for a sense of humanity, but if that was so then why had Genovir seemed so pleased when Jovvi hadn't displayed one? And Genovir had been pleased, Jovvi had felt that clearly, but the emotion hadn't seemed personal.

  So Genovir probably wasn't making an estimate of Jovvi for purely personal use. She was supposed to look for certain qualities, but ambition wasn't one of them. The thought of that hadn't set well with the Adept, but that part of it might have been personal. The woman was guarding herself in an effort to keep from being read, but not particularly well. There was a good chance she would soon relax, and then Jovvi would be able to get a better idea of what was going on.

  But in the meanwhile Jovvi would have to watch what she said and did. The day was growing brighter and more pleasant, an external outlook that didn't quite match Jovvi's inner one. She still had to find out how strong was considered too strong, and how weak too weak. Playing that balance was the only thing that would let her move forward in relative safety - until she reached the end of whatever line it was that she walked.

  "Are we ready to begin now?" Genovir asked with the pleasant patience that was beginning to grate on Jovvi. They'd both finished their cups of tea, and apparently having a second cup wasn't part of the grand plan.

  "Oh, yes, I'm quite ready to begin," Jovvi answered, then stood as Genovir did. She had to remember to be eager about some things, not so eager about others. And she had to remember that she was supposed to be nearly penniless. Her cache of gold was quite safe where she'd hidden it, but it had to be forgotten about. That meant she had to earn at least one more silver din before week's end, but would that be considered adequate progress? Assuming she found herself able to move ahead rather quickly, just how quickly should that be allowed to happen?

  Jovvi sighed as she followed Genovir onto
the path leading to the first of the small, round resin buildings. The next days weren't likely to be pleasant, not in the least…

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Rion left the coach without a backward glance, still too wrapped up in his plans and feelings to be able to concern himself with those around him. Especially when things didn't seem to be going well for the others. Tamrissa and Vallant Ro appeared to have had some kind of falling out, and there was a definite … distance between Jovvi and Lorand Coll. Perhaps the ladies now regretted having given their attentions to other men rather than him, but that possibility had to be shelved for the moment along with the rest.

  This time there were no guardsmen to bother with, so Rion walked through the opening in the resin wall. Beyond lay an open area which wasn't terribly large, then an expanse of ordinary tables and chairs, and then a stretch of lawn broken only by stone paths. Two small, round resin buildings stood beyond the lawn to the left, and two similar but larger buildings stood to the right. There was nothing to say what any of the buildings were for, and that annoyed Rion.

  "Good morning," a voice said, and Rion turned to see a man approaching him. The man was dressed plainly but rather well in blue trousers, a pale green shirt, and a light gray vest, but the expensive clothing would have looked better on a thinner man. This one obviously enjoyed indulging himself at the expense of his waistline, and even through sleeves his arms looked fleshy rather than muscular. A half beard circled his mouth and matched the brown of his hair, all of that ordinariness working to camouflage the sharp look in his dark brown eyes.

  "I'm Padril, the Adept assigned to assist you," the man said, stopping to give Rion a quick inspection with those eyes. "I see they were right, and your name is incorrect on your identification card. I'll arrange for a proper one immediately, and-"

  "No," Rion interrupted, outrage suddenly beginning to grow in him. "My correct name is just as you see it on this card, and it's not to be changed to anything else. You may tell whomever else is involved that that decision is final."

  "They're certain to find that pronouncement confusing," Padril said, now looking at Rion with curiosity. "Apparently someone made quite a fuss over the mistake, and insisted that it be corrected at once. Now you tell me there is no mistake, and nothing's to be changed. I'm afraid explanations will be demanded before the matter can be resolved."

  "As far as I'm concerned the matter is already resolved," Rion answered, his tone quite chill. "You may tell those people that I'm a grown man, and therefore completely capable of deciding what my name will be. If someone appears and disputes the correctness of that name, they need only refer the someone to me. No one's word is to be taken in this matter above mine."

  "I doubt they'll be pleased, but I'll certainly pass on what you've said," Padril assured him, faint amusement behind the words. "Now that we've settled that misunderstanding, let's take a cup of tea and discuss what you're here for."

  The man gestured toward one of the tables, then led the way over to it. Rion followed, watched as Padril paused to ring a bell hanging on a post before taking a seat, then took his own seat. By then a servant was coming toward them from behind a wall to the left, already carrying a tray with a pot and cups.

  "I requested the tea just before you arrived," Padril explained while they were being given cups and then having the cups filled. "We take lunch and refreshment at these tables, and ringing a bell will bring you immediate service. It goes a bit more slowly at lunchtime, when most of us are here at the same time, but the wait never stretches beyond reason."

  Rion nodded and sipped at the hot tea until the servant had left, then he gestured to the buildings.

  "That, I take it, is where the goings-on go on," he said, trying to lighten his mood. "Do any of the buildings relate to one another, or do they all have separate purposes?"

  "The two small ones are for practice, the two large ones for competitions," Padril replied without hesitation. "There are also two sorts of competitions for each segment, which I'll explain about shortly. You're not fond of idle chitchat, I take it. Most newcomers avoid the topic of what's to be required of them until their Adept guide insists on discussing it, but you've brought it up yourself. I would guess that this name thing has really upset you."

  "You find it beyond reason that I'm merely eager to get on with things?" Rion countered, leaning back just a little in his chair. "An applicant's ultimate aim is supposed to be the achievement of a High position, and I've never heard of the position being awarded to someone shy and retiring. But perhaps I'm mistaken, and the reticent are the ones who achieve the glory."

  "No, you aren't mistaken," Padril admitted with a chuckle. "The positions do indeed go to those most able to take and defend them. But my own position requires that I be certain the applicant under my wing is able to do his or her best, and in your case I'm not certain at all. Are you unaware of the fact that inner turmoil can and does interfere with the full use of your talent?"

  "Truthfully, I've never heard that," Rion said, and the words were the truth. He'd never heard anyone discuss the subject, but his own observations didn't match the conclusion. A week earlier he would have said so without hesitation, but now some newly-awakened sense of caution made him keep the matter to himself.

  "The connection between personal distress and a lessening of ability is quite well documented," Padril assured him with a sincere expression both on his face and in his eyes. "You must dismiss all other concerns when you engage in operating at this level, leaving your mind clear to concentrate on what's before you. If you tell me about the problem troubling you, it will not only make you feel considerably better, I'll then be better able to act on your behalf. If I can, I'd like to see to it that you're not troubled again."

  Rion hesitated, uncomfortable with the thought of unburdening himself to a stranger, but there was no real harm in doing it. Padril would most likely find himself helpless before Mother's determination, but possibly one of the man's superiors would not be the same.

  "If you can keep me from being troubled again, you'll undoubtedly be set on the Fivefold Throne all by yourself," Rion finally allowed with a wry smile. "I've recently decided to … exert my independence as an adult, and my mother dislikes the idea intensely. She's been insisting that I retake the name she gave me, but I find only the last part of it acceptable. I even had the identification card changed, and don't intend to allow it to be changed back again. But Mother does wield a good deal of power, so the battle won't be easily or quickly over with. If I were you, I'd seriously consider staying well out of the affair."

  "It sounds as though that would certainly be the wisest course," Padril agreed, equally wry. "Mothers can sometimes be so unreasonable where their children are concerned. And when they have power as well… The temptation to withdraw is certainly there, but I'm afraid I'll have to ignore it. Your potential value to the empire is a good deal greater than your mother's, so we have no choice but to support your stance rather than hers. Does knowing that ease your mind at all?"

  "Actually, it does," Rion admitted, surprised to discover that he wasn't lying. "If you can keep Mother from distracting me, I should be able to give you a showing that will make you glad you did. And since that is supposed to be what I'm here for, things would work out quite well."

  "Having something to point to before my superiors would help a good deal," Padril admitted in turn, now studying Rion thoughtfully. "Suppose I describe what will be expected of you, and then you give me an estimate of how quickly you think you can accomphsh each thing."

  "Go ahead," Rion agreed, now even more eager to get down to details. If these people could be gotten actively on his side, his problem with Mother might be solved rather more easily than he'd imagined…"

  "As I mentioned, there are two buildings for practice," Padril said with a nod for Rion's agreement. "In the first you will have six other people besides yourself, and you'll need to practice keeping them and yourself supplied with air to breathe while the r
oom is being filled with smoke or some such that would make breathing difficult. At first the six will be together but then they'll separate, first into two groups, then three, then they'll stand individually. How long do you think it will take you to accomplish all that?"

  "Not long once I get the hang of working with more than three groups," Rion answered honestly, remembering the test he'd survived. "Learning comes rather easily to members of my class, after all, so I anticipate very little trouble."

  "Good," Padril enthused, leaning forward just a bit with a warm smile on his face. "And for each milestone you master, you'll earn another silver din. But the achievements in the second building bring two silver dins each, and that's the place most applicants have the most trouble. Someone like you, though…"

  "Won't have any trouble at all," Rion finished happily when the other man's voice trailed off. "What's involved that so many people have difficulty with it?"

  "In a manner of speaking it's just the reverse of the first building," Padril said, still obviously approving. "You'll need to take away the air from about the six people, first with them standing in a group, to the end where they stand individually. It's really quite simple, so I don't understand why so many have trouble with it."

  "They must have been members of the lower classes," Rion commented, already elated over what would soon be a major success. "And you need have no fear at all, since I've already practiced that little trick with two people and had no trouble at all. Six will simply take a bit more concentration and effort."

  "Marvelous," Padril breathed, leaning back again with shining eyes. "You've already practiced what many of those sharing our aspect are unable to manage at all. You certainly will be worth an enormous amount to the empire, and I feel privileged to be the one who will assist you. When you reach the competitions - But I haven't described the competitions yet, have I? What a fool I am, to be so easily distracted by magnificence."