by Sharon Green
By then Lorand had released the men to breathe freely again, needing to see their reactions when they weren’t in a state where they would promise anything to be released. The man who had been standing now sat on the ground with his head hanging low, but Meerk glared at Lorand even as he kept dragging in air. Lorand met his glare with an unblinking stare, and after a moment the man dropped his gaze.
“Always thought that kinda thing was bullshit,” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “People bein’ that strong, I mean. I’m real strong in Earth magic m’self, but ain’t no way I coulda broke loose. Okay, you got yerself a deal. We dig out th’ little drunk an’ bring ’im t’you, an’ you pay us. In gold, not in th’ end a our lives.”
He was back to staring at Lorand by then, and what he’d said was true. He was fairly strong in Earth magic, possibly even an unpracticed Middle, but he hadn’t had a chance against Lorand’s strength. He did, however, know the trick of monitoring someone’s bodily signs to see if they were telling the truth, and that’s what he was doing right now with Lorand. That said Hat had really believed the fantasy tale he’d told, but Lorand had no time to think about that now.
“You’ll be paid in gold, even if I have to borrow the gold,” he said clearly, making no effort to block the man’s monitoring. “Does that satisfy you?”
“Guess it’ll hafta,” Meerk grudged, pushing away from the table to stand. “Don’t know why you’d want th’ little drunk, but if he’s still here in Gan Garee, he’s yours.”
The one on the ground struggled to his feet, and the two walked unsteadily away. It was still possible that they’d killed Hat and hidden his body, but Lorand had done some monitoring of his own. As far as he could tell, Meerk had been sincere in accepting the offer. If Hat was still in the city, they’d find him and bring him to the residence. After that…
After that, Lorand had no idea what he would do. In the middle of everything going on, what in the world would he do with a man who had turned into a perpetual drunk living in a fantasy world? Lorand didn’t know, but he’d damned well better think of something fast…
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
After Mardimil left the coach, Vallant spent the few minutes until his own stop rearranging his thinking. He’d been depressed over the near certainty that he would lose the competition even if he were able to force himself to stay inside the building, and now, suddenly, he was supposed to lose. Never in his entire life had he ever done other than his best, but now…
But now the circumstances were entirely different. If those people really were trying to find out just how strong they in the residence were, self preservation demanded that he and the others manipulate the results of the competition. Just the way he hoped the women were doing…
Vallant exchanged wishes of good luck with Coll and left the coach, determined to think about “the women” and not one woman in particular. He no longer had anything to do with Tamrissa, and even his sense of physical attraction had faded. Tamrissa Domon was just one of the people in his residence, and he meant to keep matters just like that. She’d given up trying to talk to him rather easily last night, which meant whatever she’d wanted couldn’t have been very important.
Walking through the entrance into the outskirts of the eating area showed Vallant a lot more people than he’d seen until now. That had to mean they were there for the competition, or at least most of the newcomers were. The rest had attended for their own reasons, and Vallant would have been happier if he knew for certain what those reasons were.
“Good morning, Dom Ro,” a quiet voice said, and Vallant turned his head to see that a subdued Wimand had come up to him. It felt odd not to have the man making some nasty comment about Holter, and doubly odd not to have Holter right there with him. But then Vallant realized something.
“Good mornin’,” he returned coldly and distantly, pleased to see the way the smaller man flinched. “Are they close to bein’ ready to begin?”
“Very close,” Wimand acknowledged, gesturing toward the building behind the exercise cubicles. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you there.”
“Does that mean everyone has already arrived?” Vallant asked next as he began to follow the man. “Everyone includin’ Holter?”
“Dom Holter is expected at any moment,” Wimand grudged over his shoulder after something of a pause, carefully making his way through the crowd. “It shouldn’t be long at all, and then the competition can begin.”
“I think I’ll wait for Holter outside the buildin’,” Vallant decided aloud, watching for Wimand’s reaction. “I’m too used to goin’ to these things right along with him to change now, especially since I don’t have to.”
A flash of frustration showed on what Vallant could see of Wimand’s face, but when the man glanced over his shoulder again, the emotion was masked.
“You may certainly wait anywhere you like, sir,” Wimand allowed in a neutral voice. “The tardiness may well count against you, but as I recall you don’t think of that as a consideration. Would you care for a cup of tea while you wait?”
“No,” Vallant replied. “No tea, and I’ll take my chances with the tardiness business. I’m too used to bein’ at sea to feel comfortable inside buildin’s, so the less time I have to spend in one, the better I’ll like it.”
Wimand quickly covered up his look of startlement, but not before Vallant caught it—as he’d thought he might. He’d wondered if those people knew about his trouble with being indoors, so he’d given Wimand a chance to try forcing him inside early. The competition couldn’t start until all the participants were there, and what he’d suddenly realized was that Holter had to be one of the participants. The man had achieved his masteries and gotten his bracelet, after all, so it stood to reason.
And Wimand had tried to force him inside early with talk about tardiness. The fool must have said the first thing to come to mind, since his reasoning was even weaker than usual. You can’t be tardy for something that won’t start until everyone involved is there, only for something that starts at a particular time even if people are absent.
Vallant followed Wimand’s stiffened back with a grim smile, wondering if the man realized yet just how much he’d let slip. He’d obviously meant to weaken Vallant’s chances in the competition by weakening him, which probably wasn’t part of his superiors’ planning. By doing that he’d told Vallant just how much the testing authority knew about him, and had been caught off balance when Vallant had readily admitted what everyone apparently thought of as a secret.
But when a secret is used against you, it’s time to let it out of the bag. Vallant stepped onto the path leading to the white resin building, relieved to finally be out from among all those people. Crowds weren’t as bad as being inside someplace small and airless, but that didn’t make forcing a way through them pleasant. If Vallant had hoped to win the competition he would have already been disturbed, but as it was he felt no more than slight discomfort.
“If you need me, sir, I’ll be just inside,” Wimand said, pausing right in front of the building. “And please consider what I told you about being tardy. If you look bad, I do, too, so think of it as self interest on my part.”
And with that Wimand walked inside, his expression now a bit more satisfied. Obviously he thought he’d given Vallant something to worry about, but that just showed how ignorant the man really was. His patchwork of supposed self interest hadn’t done a thing to plug the leaks in the logic of his tardiness story, but Vallant didn’t mind his thinking that it had. It should keep him quiet and out of Vallant’s way for a while.
It was another lovely day, so Vallant stood there and enjoyed it until Holter arrived. A number of people had passed him on their way into the building, but one glance at his clothing told them he wasn’t one of them. That was a use for the distinctive clothing Vallant and the others hadn’t considered, and he made a mental note to mention it at the next full meeting. The bracelets they wore were only one way of te
lling their status, and knowing that might come in handy later.
Holter appeared in about twenty minutes, silently following the supposed Adept Podon. He looked even more unhappy than usual, but his eyes widened when he saw Vallant.
“Thought I’d wait until you got here,” Vallant said with a smile when Holter reached him, completely ignoring Podon. “I sort of got used to goin’ to these things with you, and just because they moved you out of the residence doesn’t mean I have to stop. Not yet, anyway.”
Holter matched his grin at that, silently sharing the knowledge that the testing authority would certainly try to drive a solid wedge between them. Those people didn’t want any friendships that weren’t their own idea, but that didn’t mean Vallant had to go along with them.
“It’s good seein’ ya,” Holter said quietly, offering his hand. “It’s always good seein’ a friend.”
Vallant took the offered hand with a nod, confirming for Holter that he was, and would remain, the man’s friend. Then Holter started into the building, and Vallant took a moment to brace himself hard before following.
From the very first step inside, Vallant had to maintain a rigid hold on himself to keep from bolting. Not only was the large building windowless and lit by lanterns, its size was greatly diminished by the number of people in it. And that didn’t take into account the large glass tank filled with water which stood in the very center of the building. The air disappeared into countless lungs, leaving none over for his own lungs, which in turn caused the round walls to begin moving inward.
Ignoring all that was one of the hardest things Vallant had ever done, and even as he followed Holter he wondered how long he’d be able to keep it up. Panic shoved at him, determined and desperate to take over, making Vallant know it would be impossible to hold it off permanently. As soon as his strength failed the panic would take charge, and nothing in the world would change that. If only there was something to distract him…!
That was when Mardimil’s suggestion came back, the one about adding water to the air. Vallant had no hope at all that it would do any good, but his desperation needed something to focus on besides running. Podon now led the way for both Holter and himself, with Wimand nowhere to be seen. They were being taken to a man who stood to the right of the glass tank, beside a double row of seats which were all filled except for the two on the near end. If something was to be done, it had to be done now.
So Vallant reached to the water in the large glass tank, the only real source of water inside that resin building. The water evaporating from the tank into the air should have added sufficient moisture, but somehow the resin of the building seemed to be absorbing most of that. Vallant pulled the moisture into an invisible oval in front of his face, and oddly enough, some of his discomfort vanished. Not all of it by any means, but now when the panic broke through it would be considerably more comfortable.
“Dom Holter, Dom Ro, allow me t’present Adept Arkow,” Podon said as they stopped near the heavy, supercilious-looking man who stood beside the seats. “Adept Arkow is runnin’ this here competition, an’ he’ll tell ya whut ya need t’do.”
“That’s all, Podon,” Arkow said without looking at the man, distastefully gesturing a dirty, smelly animal away from his vicinity. Podon, looking crushed, left immediately, but Vallant felt no pity for him. Anyone who deliberately involved himself with these people from the testing authority deserved whatever he got.
“How odd that you two arrived together,” Arkow continued, speaking mostly to Vallant. “I was under the impression that you no longer shared the same residence.”
“I got here first, so I waited for Holter,” Vallant said, glad of the distracting conversation. “Was there any reason why I shouldn’t have?”
“No, no, of course not,” Arkow hastily assured him, obviously unused to people who defended themselves by counterattacking. “But now we’re ready to begin, so please take your seats with the others. You’ll be called up one at a time, and as soon as you’ve completed your performance you’ll be conducted out of the building. I’ll explain what’s expected of you in just a moment.”
The man turned away from them then, giving them the chance to sit down the way they’d been told to do. Vallant couldn’t help hesitating, though, since sitting down wasn’t what he most wanted to do.
“Don’t give ’em th’ satisfaction,” Holter said softly, and looking at him showed that the smaller man knew just what Vallant’s problem was. “It won’t take long, an’ then you c’n leave without givin’ ’em whut t’laugh at.”
Vallant nodded his thanks for the support, and then forced himself to go to a chair and sit. Almost everyone else there seemed totally unconcerned, and for Vallant that was a usual state of affairs. Everyone unconcerned but him…
“Please settle down, everyone,” Arkow suddenly called out to the room at large, holding up his hands. “We’re about to begin, so I’d appreciate some quiet.”
He got the quiet he’d asked for rather quickly, with those standing on the far side of the glass tank trying to edge around to hear him. Those people didn’t seem to matter, though, as Arkow ignored them.
“I’d like to welcome all our distinguished guests to this occasion,” Arkow continued, his smile more of a smirk. “We may be holding only a low-level competition, but it still has its points of interest. Our participants will be required to do two things, both of them in this tank of water behind me. The first of those things is being prepared for right now.”
He turned to glance at the two men who had climbed to opposite sides of the tank, something long held carefully between them. It took Vallant a moment to see that the something was a miniature suspension bridge, and it was being settled into place above and in the water. It was made of hardened wood, the way most bridges of that sort were, and looked extremely realistic.
“The bridge, although rather small, is quite sturdy,” Arkow went on after a short pause. “Our participants will first need to use the water in the tank to destroy a good portion of that bridge, and then they will impress us with their strength by parting the waters and holding them apart for a moment or two. Their performance will be timed, of course, and those times will be announced later. Right now, let’s have our first participant.”
Vallant fully expected to be made to wait until the very end; after all, since they knew about his problem they’d surely want to take advantage of it. Being gestured to first came as more of a shock than a surprise, but Vallant was too relieved to worry about it now. He rose quickly and went to stand beside Arkow, suddenly more distracted than he’d expected to be. He couldn’t quite remember the level of strength he’d decided on in case he was chosen to go first, and he only had a minute to bring the memory back.
“Please bear in mind that you may not touch the glass of the tank,” Arkow said softly when Vallant reached him. “Beyond that, you may use your ability freely. Good luck, and do try to do your best. Many of the people watching can do you a great deal of good if they’re properly impressed.”
With that he walked away, supposedly leaving Vallant something exciting to think about. But the beads of sweat on Vallant’s brow should have told the man that Vallant himself was beyond being impressed by anything but the chance to leave. It would be enough of a fight not to work as quickly as he possibly could, something that had to be remembered.
Opening himself freely to the power helped more than Vallant thought it would. It seemed to … expand his surroundings in some way, not to match the outdoors, unfortunately, but enough to give him some breathing room. That literal turn of phrase let him direct his attention to the problem, which wasn’t as difficult as Arkow had made it sound.
During a violent storm, normally peaceful bodies of water had been known to wash out even a new bridge. The added strength of wind and crashing momentum allowed the water to do that, and the power enabled Vallant to add even more strength than wind and momentum supplied. The water would be a sledgehammer driven by a giant, and the
bridge would not be able to resist.
But it did have to be allowed to resist for a short while. Vallant hated the need, but since it couldn’t be argued with it had to be endured. He used his ability to get the water roiling more and more violently, and then he began to send it against the bridge. It couldn’t take too much longer than it should normally, so the whole thing needed careful balancing.
When one section of the bridge finally gave way under the assault, there was a smattering of applause. Vallant knew he didn’t particularly deserve that applause, so he ignored it in favor of tackling the next part of the exercise. This was really the harder job, and it had to start with calming the waters. Once that was done he inserted the fingers of his talent slowly and carefully into the water, then began to part it.
Spreading out widely enough to keep the waters from escaping was the biggest problem, but remembering all that practice in weaving let him accomplish it. For some reason the woven patterns spread out more easily and widely, so that the water in the tank parted neatly and stayed that way. After that, all Vallant could do was wait. He’d been told he would have to hold it apart for a time, and this was where a serious worry came in.
He couldn’t pretend to be exhausted when he wasn’t, not when any other strong talent would know better, so he had to hold the waters apart until he was allowed to release them. But that meant he couldn’t hedge on this part of his strength, which might tell the watchers whatever they wanted to know. Hopefully it would only give them part of the answer, or even more hopefully turn all their results meaningless—
“Thank you, Dom Ro, you may release the waters now,” Arkow’s voice came, bringing Vallant back from distraction. His thoughts had drifted off, but his talent had held steady on its own. “Here is the gentleman who will accompany you out, and thank you again for participating.”
