BRYTE'S ASCENT (Arucadi Series Book 8)

by E. Rose Sabin

  How could Lina have hunted through three tiers by night? Another mystery to be explored. Lina threw herself onto her bed without undressing and was asleep before Bryte could ask any questions.

  Wide awake and restless, Bryte walked aimlessly about the room. The box that had started all the trouble sat on Lina’s dresser. Lina must have put it there when she’d gone back to the room for the jeweled circlet she’d used to pass that invisible barrier.

  Bryte picked it up and examined it. Such an innocuous object to have caused such a turn of events. And after all, Lord Inver had left without it. It seemed Oryon was the greater prize. She turned the box this way and that, opened and closed it, and with her index finger traced the designs on the lid. Her finger seemed to tingle when she traced the circle of knots, but that could be her imagination.

  She looked at the flaming star on one side. For some reason, the inverted five-pointed star disturbed her. She held her finger above it to trace its lines as she had the circle of knot, but could not bring herself to touch it.

  “That’s silly,” she muttered to herself. “It’s just an empty box with funny markings.”

  “And you should not be holding it. Give it to me.”

  She whirled around. Oryon stood behind her, his hand held out for the box.

  “How—? I didn’t hear you come in. And the doors were locked.” She’d locked them herself—both the door to the hall, and the one from the bathroom into the adjoining room. And no one ever sneaked up on her, they just didn’t.

  “The box,” he said, not moving.

  Slowly she set it onto his waiting hand.

  The bedsprings squeaked. Lina sat up. “Oryon! You’re back! What happened? Where have you been?”

  Bryte liked neither his tight smile nor the cold tone of his voice as he said, “With Lord Inver. I’ve accepted his offer of employment. I just came to get my things.”

  Lina swung her legs around and sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re going to work for that creep?”

  “I came here to find a good job, Lina. You know that. He’s offered me one—the sort I had hoped for. It pays well and will let me use my power.”

  This was wrong. He should sound pleased and excited, but he spoke in a cold, matter-of-fact tone.

  Clearly Lina didn’t like it any better than Bryte did. “What is this wonderful job he’s hired you to do?” Anger glittered in Lina’s eyes.

  “Oh, don’t sound so suspicious. It’s something I’m well suited for.”

  “But you aren’t saying what. It doesn’t have to do with summoning Dire Women, does it?”

  He flinched at that, and his gaze dropped to the floor. “You know I wouldn’t—”

  “I know you’re acting guilty about something, and you’re sounding like you did when—”

  “Don’t talk about that! It’s over. This has nothing to do with it.”

  He took deep breaths and again met Lina’s gaze. “I need work. I can’t keep living off your charity. I’ve already taken too much. Now I’ll be able to repay you.”

  She stood and faced him, her face flushed with anger. “I never asked you to repay anything. I’ve shared with you willingly. I’ve shared power, too. Will you repay that?”

  “That was a mutual sharing. You know I gave as much as I got. And it’s over. I won’t do it again.”

  Bryte badly wanted to know what they were talking about. They both seemed to have forgotten her presence.

  Lina’s lips curled back in a furious snarl. “So. You’ve found a new benefactor and don’t need me anymore. I was only a meal ticket, is that it?”

  “You’re being ridiculous. We were classmates, and when we graduated, our paths led us both to Tirbat, so it made sense to travel together. But our goals were never the same, and now it’s best that we go our separate ways.”

  His haughty tone and the hard lines of his face were different from the Oryon Bryte had met the day before and guided around the city yesterday. Something had changed him. Someone. Lord Inver. The man was evil, and he’d infected Oryon with that evil. And now he had Lord Inver’s box. That was important, though Bryte had no idea why.

  Lina backed away from him, shaking her head. “Something’s happened to you, Oryon. Something very bad. Yesterday when we stopped at that nexus, you were afraid. It brought back what happened to you in the Dire Realms, and you remembered well enough what led you there. Are you going to make the same mistake again?”

  “Lord Inver isn’t a Dire Lord,” Oryon snapped. “He’s a high government official, and he’s offered me exactly the chance I’ve been looking for.”

  “You still haven’t said what that is,” Lina pointed out reasonably. “You haven’t told me what kind of work he’s hired you to do.”

  “You aren’t my keeper.” He turned away and marched to the door.

  “Go, then, you fool.” Lina’s angry growl reminded Bryte of the panther that had attacked the leatherworker.

  Oryon yanked the door open and strode into the hall. Lina stood gazing after him, fists clenched, back stiff with rage. Bryte wished she could sneak away before that rage was turned on her. Not that she’d done anything, but Lina’s rage would demand an outlet, Oryon was gone, and Bryte was conveniently present.

  But Lina continued to ignore Bryte. She stalked to the dresser and picked up a mirror in an ornate silver frame, gazed into it for a moment, then slammed it face down on the dresser with a force that should have shattered it but didn’t.

  She rested her elbows on the dresser and covered her face with her hands. Bryte wondered whether she was crying, but she heard no sobs, and when Lina turned toward her, her eyes were dry.

  “It’s wrong, Bryte,” she said then. “It’s all wrong. He won’t like it, but I’m going to find out what this job is, and who Lord Inver is, and what’s happened to him.”

  The “him” referred to Oryon, of that Bryte had no doubt. “I’ll help you,” she stated with no idea what she could do or whether Lina would welcome her help.

  But Lina merely nodded. “We’ll get some breakfast,” she said. “I’m not hungry, but we have to build up our strength. And while we eat, we’ll plan our attack.”

  Lina went out into the hall and used the house phone to call the hotel restaurant and order breakfast. Bryte was sure she was also checking to see whether Oryon had really left. Bryte knew he had; she’d heard the revealing clank of the elevator.

  While they waited for the food to arrive, Lina also checked Oryon’s room, entering by the door from the bathroom. Bryte followed her. The room was still a mess, but Oryon’s things were gone, though Bryte couldn’t imagine when he’d gotten them. She should have heard him moving about, gathering his clothes and toiletries and packing them into the brown leather suitcase.

  The suitcase, clothes, and toiletries were missing, and she had heard nothing. He must have come in while she slept. But then, why had he returned later? She wanted to ask Lina, but the grim lines of Lina’s face told Bryte she was in no mood for conversation.

  When the food arrived, instead of planning, Lina ate greedily despite having declared that she was not hungry. She seemed always to have a healthy appetite.

  Bryte had believed herself too agitated to want to eat, but the first bite of food awakened her hunger. Lina did not touch the bowl of fresh fruit—she never did. As Bryte helped herself to a sweet yellow pear, she recalled how she’d shared the fruit with Oryon, especially the grapes, which seemed to be his favorite. Would he get any breakfast where he had gone?

  As though she’d read her mind, Lina said, “I hope Oryon is going hungry. I doubt that Lord Inver will bother to supply breakfast.”

  That gave Bryte her opening. “Lina,” she pled, “tell me what’s going on. You and Oryon can do things I’ve never seen anybody do. And Lord Inver. He scared me. Why would Oryon have gone to work for him?”

  Lina studied the piece of ham speared on her fork, and Bryte thought she wasn’t going to answer. But she sighed, put down the fork, and
said, “Haven’t you ever known anyone who was gifted with special abilities?”

  Bryte considered. “No,” she said. “Not if you mean the kinds of things you and Oryon can do. What you do is like magic.”

  “It is magic,” Lina said. “At least, that’s the term most people use for it. We call it being gifted. We have special talents that most people don’t have. Those who have them, well, in a lot of places they form a Community. That is, they meet together, and they help each other out. It’s called the Community of the Gifted. We expected to find one here in Tirbat.”

  “I never heard of such a thing.”

  “Neither has anyone else we’ve talked to,” Lina said bitterly. “I don’t understand it. The capital of all Arucadi must have a Community. Although if Lord Inver is part of it, I don’t think I want to find it.

  “And as for why Oryon would want to work for someone like that, I’m not sure. He has a lot of pride, and I guess it hurt him to live on my money, though I didn’t mind at all. But I think there’s more to it than that. I think Lord Inver used some sort of influence, some coercion.”

  “You mean he forced Oryon to work for him?” Bryte was trying to sort it all out.

  “Forced in a way. Got into his mind and made some changes, I’d say. That’s why Oryon was so different this morning.” Lina used her napkin to delicately blot her lips. She leaned back in her chair. “Different from the way he’s been for the past two years, at least,” she added. “I’ve seen him like this before. He was under an evil influence then, and it made him very, very dangerous. It’s also how he wound up in the Dire Realms. His ambition led him to dabble in some very dark magic. He summoned Dire Women under the crazy belief that he could control them and use them to do his bidding. The fool! He learned the hard way that he was no match for Dire Women. They took him to the Dire Realms and tortured him.”

  “How did he get away?” Bryte asked, fascinated. “And he said you’d been in the Dire Realms, too. Did you rescue him?”

  “Not exactly. I ... helped. No more time for talking.” She straightened and pushed away from the table. Getting to her feet, she said, “I’m afraid that Lord Inver will lure him back to the use of dark magic. That’s why we’ve got to get him away. Somehow.”

  Bryte had many more questions, much that she still did not understand, but Lina had clearly said all she intended to at this time, so Bryte only asked, “How do we do that?”

  “The first step is to find where Lord Inver’s office is.” Lina paced around the room. “How well do you know the fifth tier?”

  “Well, I know where the office district is and where the parks and public gardens are. And the main temple to Mibor. I always take tourists there. He’s the Patron of this province, and—”

  “I don’t care about that. Tell me about the office district. How well do you know it?”

  Bryte had to admit that she didn’t know it at all; this was not the time to be evasive. “I just know where the district is, not what offices are where.”

  “Didn’t you say you were a good guide?”

  Lina’s scorn hurt. “Tourists don’t ask to see the office district,” she said defensively. “Not to go inside, anyway. It’s just a bunch of buildings. The most important officials have their offices on the sixth tier, so maybe Lord Inver isn’t really all that important.” She thought of her father, whose prestigious office was in a sixth-tier building.

  “It doesn’t matter how important his position in government may be,” Lina said. “What matters is the power he has at his command.”

  “Power,” Bryte repeated. “You’re always talking about power. It’s the magic you mean, isn’t it?”

  “Of course. There are seven levels of power. First-level gifted have only a bit of talent and scarcely know how to use it. Second-level may not have any more actual talents than first-level, but they can use what they have more effectively, and the talents they have are stronger. Third-level have more talents and are better able to use what they have. And so on through the sixth level, which few gifted attain, but those who do have many and varying gifts and can use them with great skill. The very few who reach seventh level are called Adepts. They have tremendous power but use it sparingly. There, I’ve given you a quick course in giftedness. It should answer your questions.”

  It didn’t. Bryte prodded a bit more. “Then,” she said, “Magic is like Tirbat. It has seven levels, the lowest being the first and the seventh the highest. But Tirbat has the flats. I suppose they would correspond to all the people who don’t have any gifts at all?”

  “Well, yes, but there are also people who are gifted but don’t know it, or perhaps know they have some special talent but have no idea how to use it. I suspect you fit into that category.”

  Bryte recalled Lina’s accusation in the bazaar. “You said I had power. Why did you think that?”

  “One of my talents is the ability to sense power use by others. I can draw on that power—steal it, I guess you could say, though people with that gift are never supposed to draw power from another person without that person’s permission. I don’t always follow the rule.” Lina said it matter-of-factly without the least suggestion of shame or embarrassment. “In the bazaar I was casting about for any use of power, hoping to locate someone gifted, and I picked up a strong thread and traced it back. It led to you. I couldn’t believe it. To be sure, I pulled that power into myself, and you nearly collapsed from the sudden drain. Then I gave the power back.”

  Bryte remembered the sudden weakness that had come over her in the bazaar, the inexplicable fit of trembling. She recalled, too, that during that time of weakness she had lost her special hearing—in fact, had been able to hear no more than a low, indistinguishable blur of sound despite the noisy bustle all around her. “I didn’t understand what happened to me,” she said. “You kept asking me what I was doing, and I truly didn’t think I’d been doing anything. But maybe I was. I was—well—listening. I wanted to know what you and Oryon were talking about, so I listened to your conversation. I’m sorry, I know it’s wrong to eavesdrop, but it’s a good way to learn things people don’t want to tell you.”

  “You were listening,” Lina repeated slowly. “But you weren’t close to us. And we weren’t talking loudly. You could hear us anyway, with all the noise everywhere?”

  Bryte nodded slowly, regretting the need to admit just how acute her hearing was.

  “And you didn’t think of that as a special gift?” Lina laughed. “You’re a treasure, you really are. You can focus this gift of hearing well enough to pick out specific voices in a noisy crowd?”

  Bryte confessed that she could.

  “Well, I’m sure that’s enough to bring you up out of the flats at least to Level One. Welcome to the world of the gifted.”

  Bryte felt a surge of pride, but then another, very important question occurred to her. “You and Oryon, what level are you?”

  Lina hesitated before answering, “We’re both fourth level. I think.”

  “You might be lower? Or higher?”

  “Together we might be higher. We have a way of ... of sharing power to increase it for us both.”

  “Does that mean that apart you might be lower?”

  “I don’t know,” Lina said shortly. “Enough of this. We have to find Lord Inver. And Oryon.”

  Quite a layout Lord Inver has here. Plush furniture, carpets you sink to your ankles in. That coffee table’s solid mahogany. And the rug under it looks like a piece of art. Judging by the design and the heavy fringe, I’d guess it’s a genuine Marquez.

  Only thing missing is windows. Can’t tell what time of day or night it is, with no light coming in from outside. I’d feel like I’m in a cell, but the door isn’t locked. I could walk out at any time. Guess he trusts me to stay because I brought him his box. Wonder where he’s gone with it. He didn’t say when he’d be back, just told me to wait and make myself at home. Might as well do that.

  Here’s a phonograph cabinet. I’ve n
ever seen one this fine. I’ll bet the sound is spectacular. And a collection of classical albums. Great gods! He has all the Kelsere symphonies. I’ve got to hear these. Not hard to see how to operate this baby. Gotta handle these records with care. Don’t dare break any.

  Ahh! Listen to that! Nobody with this taste in music can be all bad.

  He told me to help myself to anything I want to drink. I’d rather have something to eat, but there’s no food here. Wish I’d had breakfast. He sure has a well-stocked bar. Looks like he’s got a fortune just in wines and liquors. Look at this! From the Larstar Vineyards of Southpoint, bottled forty years ago! Wonder if he meant to include that when he said “anything.” But I see he’s got others just as rare.

  I’ve got to keep my wits about me. I won’t drink much, but I will taste this. I’ve never had anything this fine. And look at these goblets—Cali crystal from Northpoint. Well, I’ll be careful with them.

  This is the life! Sipping vintage wine from a Cali goblet, lounging on a velvet brocade couch, feet up, listening to Kelsere’s famous Fourth Symphony. I don’t even have to get up to change the record. Lifting it and flipping it over takes very little power.

  Too bad Lina can’t see me now. She tells me not to trust Lord Inver. She knows I’m not stupid; she ought to realize that I don’t trust him. That doesn’t mean I’m wrong to accept his offer. At least look into it. It could lead me to the kind of work I came here for. And the kind of life I want—this kind of life.

  It could also lead to a blind alley, but you have to take chances if you’re going to get anywhere.

  I’m nothing more than a power source to Lina. By sharing power, we both got what we wanted. We came out of the Dire Realms with almost no power left, and we built back up to fourth level. But I think we’ve gone as far as we can together. We came here to find other avenues to power, and now I may have found mine.

  Lord Inver has a lot. Not that he’ll share it willingly. And I can’t steal it the way Lina could. Useful talent, that. Probably just as well I don’t have it. I’d be tempted to use it too often. Funny, Lina can but she doesn’t, not all that much. I wonder why. I doubt she gives a fig about any ethical or moral considerations.