BRYTE'S ASCENT (Arucadi Series Book 8)

by E. Rose Sabin

  Bryte listened in open-mouthed amazement. She had never guessed that Master Onigon had another identity, another role.

  He went on to explain how the gifted had to conceal their talents, had been prevented from meeting together as a Community, as they did in other parts of the country, and if they were found out, were punished with imprisonment, torture, and death.

  “Yet,” he concluded, “with a few sad exceptions, the gifted have been loyal and productive citizens, always ready to use their talents in the service of the nation. And as for those unfortunate exceptions who have yielded to the temptation to misuse their gifts for personal privilege and gain, the Community of the Gifted, when it was permitted to function, policed its own ranks, dealing severely with those who misused their power. We have never been and will never be a threat to this government, this capital city, or to the citizens of this great nation.”

  “You do not follow the state religion,” observed Lord Greenlee.

  “We do not oppose it,” Master Onigon responded. “We do nothing to destroy the faith of others; we ask only the freedom to follow our own beliefs. We honor the gods of Arucadi, but it is true that we revere the Power-Giver, not as a god but as the channel through which our powers flow to us from the Dire Realms.”

  “The Dire Realms!” Lady Webler leaned forward, frowning. “You admit that your power has that source.”

  Uh-oh, Bryte thought, that’s not good.

  Master Onigon said, “We do, and we know much about the Dire Realms and their lords. They are not all evil, as many seem to believe. Lord Inver was, unfortunately, under the sway of an evil Dire Lord. But the power that we receive from the Power-Giver comes from Dire Lords who take a positive interest in human affairs and desire their good. These young ladies,” he indicated Bryte, Kanra, and Ileta, “have been to the Dire Realms and have had the assistance of a Dire Lord. Please permit them to tell you about it.”

  The Triumvirate, obviously fascinated, gave assent.

  Speaking in turn, first Bryte, then Kanra, and finally Ileta told of their visit with Lord Claid and their battle with Lord Inver after his death in this dimension.

  When they’d finished, Lady Webler said, “This is a most astounding tale, and I frankly find it difficult to believe. What proof do you offer that these strange things happened as you say?”

  That was the question Bryte had dreaded. They had no objective proof. But they had to answer. Kanra called Stethan forward.

  “This lad is a truth-reader,” she said. “That fact is known to all those who serve in the Temple of Mibor, where he resided for three years. He will tell you that we speak truly. And he will recount his own experiences as a victim of Lord Inver.”

  Stethan spoke haltingly, bashful in front of such an august audience. But his very reticence made his tale convincing. When he told of being captured by Lord Inver and held prisoner first in a dank, dungeonlike room and then in a featureless and cold place where he could see, hear, or sense nothing, the terror he’d felt was so clear that the three lords were visibly moved.

  When Stethan concluded, Lord Cannabarger said, “This boy is most impressive. However, I am wondering why two principal participants in these events are not present. Where are the young man and young woman whose arrival in Tirbat began this series of events?”

  Bryte said, “Oryon is recovering from the injuries he received in his battle with Lord Inver. And Lina—”

  She was interrupted by a commotion in the rear of the audience chamber, and then she heard, “Lina is here.”

  The pleated skirt of her green charmeuse frock swished as Lina strode toward the table where the Triumvirate sat. She paused in front of it and made a respectful curtsy to the three leaders of the nation.

  “How did you get inside?” Lord Greenlee asked. “You have a pass?”

  “I wasn’t asked for one,” she said.

  “But the guards—” Lord Cannabarger began.

  “Were afraid to stop a panther,” Lina finished quickly.

  “So you’re the shapechanger,” Lady Webler said. “You’re the one who killed Lord Inver.”

  “In self-defense,” Lina said. “And in retribution for all the killing he’s done or ordered done and the good people he’s twisted and made bad.”

  “Like your friend Oryon?” Lady Webler asked.

  “So you’ve heard the story. Yes, like him. He’s been restored, but I doubt he’ll ever get over what Inver made him do.” Lina stood straight and her gaze pinioned each member of the Triumvirate in turn. “Lord Inver held power by your authority. I came to learn whether you condone the things he did. Whether in fact you approve them.”

  “Young lady, we are doing the questioning here,” Lord Cannabarger said. “You are a witness, not an inquisitor.”

  Be careful, Lina, please, Bryte willed. Don’t undo all we’ve done.

  “It is not your place to administer justice,” Lady Webler said sternly.

  “I had no choice. My friends’ lives were in danger.”

  Lord Greenlee cleared his throat. “We are going about this without regard to protocol, it seems. Young lady, please present yourself properly. Identify yourself by name and provenance, and ask permission to address us.”

  Lina bowed her head, raised it, and said, “I am Lina Mueller from the city of Stansbury in Richland Province. My parents are well known. My father is Stansel Mueller, a dealer in fine wines. He sits on the provincial council. I believe you are acquainted with him, Lady Webler.”

  Lady Webler’s eyes widened. “Indeed I am,” she said. “And your mother is Maryl Mueller? Is she well?”

  “Quite well, thank you.”

  “And I believe you have a brother?” Her sharp gaze alerted Bryte that this was no casual question.

  Lina responded in a low voice. “My only brother died eight years ago when he was three years old.”

  “Ah,” was Lady Webler’s only response.

  “You are a shapechanger,” Lord Greenlee said. “May we see a demonstration of this change?”

  “With the permission of all three of you.”

  “You have mine,” Lord Cannabarger said. “I’m curious, too, to witness this phenomenon.”

  Lina looked at Lady Webler. After a moment’s hesitation, Lady Webler gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  The transformation was instantaneous: where Lina had been, a sleek black panther stood, tail twitching. Stethan edged close to Kanra, who put her arms about him. Lord Hallomer took a backward step and wiped sweaty hands on his cutaway as he eyed the panther.

  After a moment, the panther raised up on its hind legs, and Lina stood before them once more. Both Lord Greenlee and Lord Cannabarger took deep breaths. Lady Webler merely smiled.

  “Now, my dear,” Lady Webler said, “we will hear your testimony.”

  Bryte perched on the edge of a velvet divan, feeling thoroughly out of place. She had to pinch herself from time to time to reassure herself that this was not a dream.

  She’d been overjoyed—they all had been—when the Triumvirate rendered its verdict, absolving Lina from guilt in the killing of Lord Inver and declaring that the gifted were to be accorded full rights in Tirbat and restitution made for the persecution suffered under Lord Inver’s cruel policies. Lord Greenlee had expressed gratitude that those policies had been restricted to Tirbat and not spread over the entire nation, though he recognized that prejudice against the gifted existed in many places. To combat that prejudice, the Triumvirate issued a directive that tolerance was to be taught in schools across the country.

  Lord Hallomer was awarded another medal to add to those adorning his sash. Bryte was never clear what deed it represented or why he deserved it.

  Lord Hallomer thanked the Triumvirate for this honor and ended his speech of acceptance with an announcement: “I wish the Triumvirate to take note that I hereby name as my son Stethan Graf, hereafter to be known as Stethan Hallomer, and name as my daughter, Bryte Miro, hereafter to be known as Bryte Hallomer. I r
egret my action in condemning them because of their giftedness or that of their mothers, and I give them a place in my home and full inheritance along with my daughter Ileta.”

  The announcement had been greeted with approval by the Triumvirate and applause by Ileta, Kanra, and Lina. And now Bryte sat in Lord Hallomer’s formal reception room, enduring an elegant reception for all the high government officials and their families, invited to celebrate Bryte’s and Stethan’s entrance into the Hallomer home.

  Over all the chatter and clatter that filled the room, she heard peals of laughter and rounds of applause from an adjoining room where Aubie and Frannie were entertaining the younger children with the antics of Peppet and Peppine. Stethan was not in that audience because as a guest of honor he had to remain with the adults.

  He didn’t seem to mind. He sat ensconced between Kanra and Ileta, happily feasting on a plate of fancy sandwiches, carrot curls, and dainty iced pastries. Bryte held a plate in her lap, but her stomach rebelled at the fancy food. Or perhaps it was the excitement, the newness of achieving her rightful place at last.

  Bryte Hallomer. She’d never expected to have that name and the position that went with it. She should be overjoyed, ecstatic with pride and happiness.

  She felt miserable. Looking at Kanra and Ileta, she thought, Kanra should be Ileta’s sister, not me. They’re close to the same age, and they get along so well. And Stethan adores Kanra. He hardly notices me.

  Kanra would be staying here with them. Lord Hallomer had invited her, at Ileta’s request, and Kanra had gratefully accepted, knowing she could never return to the Temple of Mibor.

  Bryte rebuked herself for feeling resentful. Stethan needed time to get used to her, that was all.

  To distract herself, she gazed at the people in all their finery. Even Master Onigon was here, again in his scholar’s robe. He confided to her when they had a moment to talk that he would be closing his moneylender’s shop and returning to the university, where he was to chair a new department devoted to the study of magical gifts.

  Something made her say, “Be sure you give me the rest of my savings before you close the shop.”

  He laughed. “Greedy, aren’t you? A third of Lord Hallomer’s fortune will be yours, but you want that paltry amount of savings.”

  “I earned that by hard work. I don’t want Lord Hallomer’s fortune.” Something of the bitterness she was feeling slipped out.

  He laughed again and patted her on the shoulder. “I plan to leave the reception early and return to the shop. I have accounts to go over and many things to settle before I can close, and I’m eager to get started. You can come tomorrow or even later tonight and claim your earnings with the interest they’ve gained.”

  He went off to chat with Lady Webler, the only Triumvirate member who’d accepted Lord Hallomer’s invitation.

  Kirsie stomped about, supervising the maids and butlers serving the food and keeping the guests’ wine glasses filled. Whatever else she might adjust to here, Bryte would never lose her dislike for the surly duenna. Nor, she suspected, would Kirsie ever accept her. The glare Kirsie threw her way each time she passed confirmed that impression.

  Lord Hallomer moved easily among his guests, chatting with first one group then another, beaming with pride and often casting loving glances at Ileta and Stethan. Only rarely did he throw one of those proud looks at Bryte, and when he did, she found it impossible to meet his gaze.

  “Having fun, Bryte?” Lina plopped down beside her on the divan.

  “I guess,” Bryte said.

  “Just think. All this is yours,” Lina said with a wave of her hand and a sly smile.

  Sudden tears filled Bryte’s eyes. She pretended to be interested in something on the other side of the room.

  “Bryte, you can’t fool me. You aren’t enjoying this. You’ve had a taste of a freer, more adventurous life, and you’re not looking forward to the restrictions of being the daughter of a great lord.”

  “I’ll get used to it,” Bryte said, still looking away and surreptitiously wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “Maybe,” Lina said. “I was raised in this kind of life, and I never got used to it. From childhood I knew it wasn’t for me.”

  “Maybe you didn’t give it enough of a chance.”

  Lina laughed a bitter laugh. “Maybe I didn’t. I know I’ve had all I can take of this now. I’m going to prowl a while. And then I’m going to get my things from the Widow Kipley’s and head for the bus station. If you change your mind about this life, you can come with me.”

  “Where are you going? Home to Stansbury?”

  “Home? No, never.” Lina repeated that bitter laugh. “I’ll take the late bus for Mercanton. From there I’ll transfer to a bus to Marquez. I couldn’t talk the Widow Kipley into giving me her power-net, not even when I told her I thought I’d earned it by getting rid of Lord Inver and making it possible for the Community of the Gifted to come out of hiding.” She scowled. “The net was a gift from her husband, she said. She’d never give it up. But she did tell me I might be able to find another like it in Marquez. That was where her husband bought it, from a man there who knows how to make them.”

  “Where’s Marquez?” Bryte asked.

  “Out west in the middle of nowhere. Probably a pretty dull place, but I manage to find excitement wherever I go.”

  Bryte didn’t doubt that. Life in Tirbat would be dull without Lina around. “You’re leaving tonight?” She looked in consternation into Lina’s green eyes. “I won’t see you again?”

  “Not unless you come with me.”

  “But I can’t—not now.”

  Lina shrugged. “It’s your choice.”

  “But—you’re going alone? Oryon won’t be with you?”

  “Oryon has already left for Hillcross up in Northwoods Province. There’s nothing for me there, and we decided to go our separate ways.” Lina’s voice was taut, her jaw set. “I always do fine on my own.”

  Bryte nodded, unable to control her voice even if she knew what to say.

  Lina rose and glided from the room. Bryte pictured a panther easing through the formal gardens and leaping onto the surrounding wall and down onto the street. She felt a pang of loneliness, of longing.

  Lady Webler came up to her and said, “Did your friend leave? Miss Mueller? I’d hoped to chat with her. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her parents.”

  “She’s leaving Tirbat,” Bryte said. “She has to pack.”

  Lady Webler gave Bryte a shrewd look. “She’s an intriguing young woman. I’m sure her parents never knew how to handle her. I wonder if anyone does.” With that, she moved off to talk to a man who’d been introduced earlier as the Minister of Finance.

  Bryte couldn’t repress a giggle, thinking of Lina’s parents coping with a strong-willed, shapechanging child.

  Kirsie came and glared down at her. “Missy, your father wants you to get up from there and talk to his guests. You’re his daughter, you got to make a good impression.”

  Bryte got to her feet and dutifully circulated among the guests, mouthing meaningless phrases, a false smile pasted on her lips.

  From the adjoining room a wild round of applause followed by excited young voices told Bryte that the puppet show had ended. Frannie and Aubie would soon gather up their props and take Peppet and Peppine to their wagon. She headed toward the other room, hoping for a chance to speak to them before they left.

  She was stopped by the finance minister’s wife, a tall, angular woman swathed in jewels, who peered down at Bryte through a gold-rimmed lorgnette. “So, you are the new daughter,” she said. “Well, I suppose you will fit in eventually.” She sniffed and stalked away.

  As she turned, a gold bracelet set with multiple gems caught on a branch of an artificial plant and slid unnoticed from her arm. Bryte grabbed it and started to call the woman’s attention to her loss.

  But the woman had just snubbed her. And with all the jewels she was wearing, she’d not miss this
single piece. Bryte slipped the bracelet into her pocket.

  With that act, she made her decision. Continuing to work her way through the crowd, giving amiable greetings to the guests, she eased toward a side door, watched until no one was looking her way, and darted outside.

  In minutes she had reached the puppeteers’ wagon. “Aubie, Frannie,” she called, “I need a ride to the flats.”

  Frannie poked her head out of the wagon door. “To the flats! Now? At night?”

  “It’ll be safe for you, with Peppet and Peppine to protect you. I have to get to Master Onigon’s. He left to go to his shop and work on accounts. He’s closing the shop. I have money deposited with him; I gotta get it.”

  Aubie had come from the front of the wagon, where he’d been hitching up the horses. “What you need money from Master Onigon’s for, girl? You’re rich now. Lord Hallomer’s gold not enough for you?”

  “Hush, Aubie,” Frannie said. “Of course she needs her own money. Go get in the driver’s seat.” And to Bryte she said, “Hop in, child. We’ll get you there fast as we can.”

  That wasn’t very fast. The trip from the fifth tier to the flats took a lot longer than she’d estimated. Then when she reached Master Onigon’s, she had to wait while he calculated the amount of interest she was owed and made careful notations in his ledger.

  When at last he finished, she returned to the wagon. “Drive by the bus station,” she told Aubie. “Lina’s leaving on the late bus, and I want to say goodbye.”

  “You’re way too late for that,” Aubie said. “The bus would have left an hour ago.”

  But Frannie said, “It won’t hurt you to drive by anyway. Sometimes buses leave late.”

  With a shrug, he set the horses in motion.

  And suddenly she was there, at the station, and the bus to Mercanton was sitting there, its motor running, the driver about to pull out. It had been too late, but now it wasn’t. She had folded time just enough. Someday she’d have to repay the stolen time, but she’d worry about that another day.

  She waved Aubie and Frannie off, ran to the bus, and pounded on the door. When it swung open, she hopped in. Lina was seated in a window seat, in the middle of the bus.