Seventh Born

by Rachel Rossano

  As he opened the door into the hallway, the sound of feet coming down the stairs echoed through the house.

  “Someone is here,” Eloine announced as she rounded the corner into the hall, her long auburn hair in full sail behind her.

  “We know,” Errol told her as he held out a steadying hand. “It is Korneli.”

  “He has a boy with him.”

  “That is his trainee. Now calm down.”

  “Braid your hair, child,” Adreet ordered as she appeared from the kitchen.

  “Korneli is here,” Errol informed her as though it was something that happened everyday.

  “I couldn’t help hearing with all the noise.” Leading the small group out into the great room, she wiped her hands on her apron and began untying it. “Zez will you please fetch Galatea and Candra. I believe they are in Candra’s room.”

  Obediently, I hurried toward the stairs, but before I got there, Galatea appeared at the top. She descended the narrow steps as though they were marble. Every hair perfectly in place, her dress spotless and neat, she looked as though she had just walked away from the mirror. I noticed a slight blush to her cheeks that could have only come from pinching them fiercely. After two months of little or no sun, all of us looked slightly pale.

  “Someone is here?” she asked me, innocence plastered across her face.

  “Your mother said to fetch you,” I told her from my place on the bottom step. Errol opened the front door on the other side of the room. Cold winter air swept two figures into the room as Galatea descended so she could see too.

  “Welcome,” Errol greeted them as he closed the door behind them.

  Korneli turned and saluted Errol with a smile. “Ah, Errol, it is so good to see you again. I have been regretting missing you at the Caelestis Novem celebrations last summer.”

  “I had to leave early. Ilias sold this farm to us and I needed to begin moving immediately. Come in.” Errol gestured toward Adreet and Eloine. “Come and meet my family, or at least part of my family. This is my wife Adreet and our middle daughter, Eloine.”

  Korneli was tall, about Selwyn’s height and a foot over Errol’s head. As he bowed over Adreet’s offered hand, I caught a glimpse of dark intelligent eyes. His appearance was striking, even from this distance. Straight, dark brown, almost black hair was cropped closely to his head and the even, well-defined features of his face made him immediately attractive in a way I had never seen before. I heard Galatea’s gasp of appreciation as he turned toward us.

  “And you must be the other two ladies of the house.” He saluted us formally and then turned to draw his companion forward. “This is my student, Septimus Pewlin. I can call him Eldivo, which is his third name.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Eldivo murmured with a bow.

  “Might we know your names?” Korneli asked with a charming smile.

  “I am Galatea,” Galatea announced as she stepped down to the first floor. Her every movement oozed charm. She offered her hand to Korneli and smiled becomingly up at him. “I am the eldest.”

  “Not so.” Surprised, I turned to find Candra standing a few steps above me on the staircase. “Zezilia is the oldest by four months.”

  “And you are?” Korneli asked with amusement brightening his eyes.

  Candra solemnly met his gaze. “I am Candra, the youngest. Who are you?”

  “Korneli, a friend of your father’s.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Candra inclined her head respectfully. “Mother, may I go back to bed now?”

  “Yes, dear, I will bring lunch up to you in a few minutes.”

  Taking that as a dismissal, Candra turned and climbed back up the stairs. I watched her go with concern. Even at her most grumpy, she was usually more cordial than that.

  “So, you must be Zezilia.” A nutty taste filled my mouth. It reminded me of cashews and peanuts with a hint of almond, an unusual combination.

  I turned to meet his gaze. “I am. It is rude to greet a stranger by sending when meeting in a social situation.”

  Korneli smiled. “You are quite right. I beg your pardon for my rude behavior. It is a pleasure to meet you, Zezilia.” He saluted me formally.

  “The same here,” I replied and returned the salute.

  “Now that all the introductions are out of the way, would you please join us for lunch, Korneli. We were just about to set it on the table.”

  “I would be honored,” he responded and we made a small procession to the dining room.

  Much to my relief, Errol captured Korneli’s attention and kept him busy discussing the latest news from the capital. News of High King Honorus’ death reached us three days after it happened, and Errol received news from the Sept Son about the transition a few days later. Ever since, he had been eager for more news of how the transition was going. So, the two of them spent the whole meal talking.

  That left entertaining Eldivo to the three of us girls. Galatea and Eloine quickly settled into a rapid fire question and answer format, quizzing the young man on everything from where he came from to how he had become Korneli’s student. Far from being intimidated by them, Eldivo seemed to enjoy talking about himself. I quietly listened, watching the young man’s face and studied his features between bites.

  “So, you are a seventh son?” Eloine asked. “That is what your name means, doesn’t it? Septimus means seventh son.”

  Eldivo blushed slightly, an unusual look with his fair hair and light colored eyes. “I am the seventh living son. You see, before me, my parents had a daughter who died only three hours after she was born. That means that I am not the seventh son of a line of only sons.”

  Eloine stared at him. “So, you don’t have the strength of a seventh son just because of that sister? Then why did you parents name you Septimus?”

  “I think they hoped I would still develop the skills of a seventh son and wanted there to be no question as to my position in the family.”

  “But everyone who meets you and hears your name, thinks you must be a seventh son,” Galatea protested. “That was hardly kind.”

  “That is why Korneli is calling me by my third name. I still have to use my first name when among the talented, but outside of the formal stuff, I can go by Eldivo, which is much less conspicuous. Are any of your brothers talents?” he asked swiftly before promptly filling his mouth with food.

  “We don’t have any brothers,” Galatea declared. “All we have are sisters and Father tested each of us, but none of us have shown the slightest inclination at talent.”

  “Then who is Korneli here to test?” Eldivo looked from one of them to other. “That is why we are here, you know. Your father is to test me and Korneli is to test your father’s student. Where is he?”

  “It isn’t a he, silly.” Eloine laughed. “It is a she. Zezilia is our father’s student.”

  Suddenly, I felt his gaze and the faltering brush of his thoughts as he brushed my mind. He tasted like rain, watery and wet. I looked up and met his eyes.

  “Is it true?” he asked. His surprise washed over me.

  I nodded.

  “I have never met a girl talent before.”

  “There is nothing different, except that I am female,” I informed him.

  “Korneli says that most female talents are weak. Are you weak?” A sending brushed my consciousness, hinting at a reprimand, but it wasn’t aimed at me. Abruptly, Eldivo dropped his eyes in shame. “Pardon me, I shouldn’t have said that.” I glanced down the table to where Errol was telling Korneli about the exercises that the Sept Son sent him. Korneli wasn’t paying attention to Errol. Instead, his dark eyes glared at his student.

  “I am truly sorry, Zezilia, will you forgive me.” Eldivo’s voice called my attention back to him. He looked at me with pleading eyes. “I haven’t learned my manners very well. I am used to being around my siblings, and my parents pretty much let me do as I wanted.”

  “You are forgiven,” I assured him before picking up my fork.

  As
I began filling it with another bite, fear whispered in my thoughts. This was the man who was to test me. I hoped desperately that he wouldn’t reprimand me like that when I did something wrong. I was certain that I would manage to do at least one thing wrong during the testing. I always did when Errol tested me. Nervously, I finished my food and waited with watchful gaze for the others to finish and the testing to begin.

  After a few minutes I remembered what Errol had taught me about praying when I was worried about something. Closing my eyes, I reached out and began to talk to the Almighty about my concerns.

  Chapter XI

  Zezilia

  “Have a seat,” Korneli instructed as he closed the study door behind him. Errol and Eldivo were using the kitchen for their testing so that we could use the study. Choosing my usual place at the desk beneath the windows, I obeyed.

  Korneli didn’t immediately take Errol’s place behind the desk in the center of the room. Instead, he crossed to the bookcases and scanned the orderly rows. “Errol says you have been having difficulty with doing multiple tasks at once,” he sent without looking my way. Taking a book from the shelf, he opened in and began flipping through the pages.

  “I am easily distracted,” I confessed. “I have practiced sending while levitating an object and I always end up dropping the object.”

  Finding what he was looking for, he set the book down on Errol’s desk and met my gaze with a smile. “Don’t look so frightened.” He took a seat. “I am not going to hurt you. I am going to test you on your knowledge and then your capabilities. I already know that you are well versed in the etiquette rules of talents. Now I am going to test you on your knowledge of the code. What is the one instance when a talent can touch and manipulate a non-talent’s mind without prior permission?”

  “When at the death bed of the High King, the Sept Son is allowed to ease the High King’s passing.”

  “Correct. From what I understand, that is what the current Sept Son had to do for High King Honorus. Define Elitism for me.”

  “It is the belief that talents are superior in every way to non-talents. Elitists do not conform to the Talent’s Code because they believe it is restricting and unnecessary. Seeking to produce more pure talent in their offspring, Elitist communities mate talented males with untrained talented females.”

  “Why untrained?” he asked abruptly.

  “I suppose it is because they cannot defend themselves from mind control,” I offered hesitantly. Errol and I hadn’t really discussed it, but I had wondered the same thing.

  Korneli’s dark eyes watched me. “So you believe that the Elitists use mind control? The history doesn’t record anything about such practices.”

  “I find it difficult to believe that they could not use it, master,” I replied. “Without it, they wouldn’t be able to integrate the untrained talented females into the community so quickly. I would also expect more of their non-talented servants would rebel.”

  He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, how would they hide such activity? Mind-altered talents tend to display signs of memory loss and physiological evidence of abuse. If their minds are invaded and memory changed often enough, parts of their brains quit functioning. So, why hasn’t this been detected?”

  Recalling the readings from the histories, I frowned. “Weren’t all the Elitists destroyed before any of them could be studied? Then there would have been no chance for long term observation of the Elitists or their servants.”

  “An interesting theory. Now quote for me what the Code has to say about mind control.’

  “On talents or non-talents, master?”

  “Both,” he replied as he leaned back and closed his eyes.

  I spent about a half hour quoting parts of the Code for him. This was that part of the testing that I didn’t mind. I was proficient with sending and getting much better at sending only what I wanted to; in this case, words. Also, my memorization of the Code was almost finished. There were only a few sections on the Sept Son’s duties and interaction with government that I hadn’t gotten to yet. Next, Errol was promising that we would be discussing theory, and I would be writing papers on ethical situations.

  Korneli was leaning back in the chair with his legs stretched out in front of him, playing with Errol’s glass paperweight. Suddenly, while I was quoting the section on when not to use mass moving, he held up his hand. “That is enough of that for this testing. Now I am going to test your reflexes.” Then without warning, he tossed the paperweight at me.

  I was slow reaching for my amoveo and caught it only an inch from the floor.

  “I didn’t hear a crash; so, I assume that you caught it. Now hold it there.” He took up an ink pot from the desk and tossed it from hand to hand. “Since you are having difficulty with multiple objects, I am giving you warning. I am going to toss this into the air in a moment and I need you to catch it without dropping the paperweight.”

  I tried to prepare, but it wasn’t helpful. He tossed the ink into the air. I tried to latch onto it with my thoughts while still holding the paperweight. My grip on the paper weight eased and it settled on the floor with a thud. The small jar of ink, however, obeyed my thoughts and stopped in mid arch, suspended between Korneli and me at eye level.

  “Good choice.” He walked around the desk and held out his hand before him. “Place the ink here.”

  That was easy. I smoothly moved the jar from its place hanging on nothing to Korneli’s palm without a problem.

  “I am pleased to see that you don’t just drop everything.” He set the small black jar back on the desk before turning back to me. “If you did it would be a sign of a much bigger issue. All I think you need is practice and a little work on your technique. Nothing terrible.” He smiled at me. “Now I understand that you are a great storyteller.” He resumed his place behind Errol’s desk. “Tell me a story.”

  I chose one of the tales of the Revelation about the king who rented out his vineyards to some caretakers for a share of the crop. I used all the techniques I was learning for sending only emotion, thought, or images, and every combination of the three. When I finished, Korneli nodded.

  “Well done. The images were clear, the emotions well portrayed, and the words perfect.” He opened his eyes and smiled at me. “I have rarely had a story told to me with such eloquence. You should consider studying with the Aegyptus storytellers.”

  “The wanderers?” I asked. Famous for their storytelling and music, Aegypti move from place to place within our country. They stayed in one place for only a few days, entertaining and fixing things before moving on to their next temporary home.

  “I spent sometime with them four years ago and heard many a wondrous tale. Your telling tasted of theirs. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a natural gift. If you are interested, I will speak to Errol about having you meet with a friend of mine. She is a retired Aegyptus, married and settled down with her farming husband.”

  “I would love that.” It was a struggle to keep my enthusiasm from overflowing into the sending. I had never met an Aegyptus. My mother proclaimed them beneath our notice, but she was no longer overseeing me.

  “Then consider it done.” He placed his hands on the table. “Now to see about that problem of yours,” he said as he rose to his feet. “I want you to pick up the ink pot and place it in my hand.”

  Reaching for my amoveo, I called to the little black jar. As I lifted it into the air, I felt a brush of foreign energy.

  “Ah, as I suspected. You aren’t using a field. That might be your whole problem. Put it down on the desk again.”

  I replaced the pot.

  “I want you to touch your amoveo.”

  I did and the now familiar rush of energy filling me made my heart speed up slightly.

  “Do you feel it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Form the energy into a field around you, like enclosing yourself in a sphere.”

  “How wide?”

  “
To here,” he sent as he extended his hand four feet before me. “Close your eyes and see everything within that sphere with your energy.”

  I tried to obey. I extended my energy out like a sphere around my body, but as I closed my eyes, I could see nothing. Then suddenly something crossed into the field and ripples echoed out from the disruption. It looked like a hand.

  “Do you see my hand?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Stop it from moving by making the sphere solid.”

  I almost asked for more explanation, but even as I formed the words for the sending, I did it. His hand froze in mid-motion and he yelped in surprise. I reacted by letting go of my amoveo. When I opened my eyes, Korneli was looking at me oddly and shaking his hand as though it hurt.

  “I am sorry,” I murmured, half afraid that he was angry.

  “Don’t be. I know it was unintentional.” He examined his hand, wiggling all the fingers gingerly.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  He glanced up from his examination of his palm and pinned me with his powerful gaze. “You just closed over my hand so solidly that the pressure surprised me. I thought that the size of the sphere would be enough to dilute your energy, but I was wrong.” A thoughtful glimmer passed over his face. “Let us test how far your ability goes. Stand over there.” He pointed to the far corner from the door. “I will stand near the door to the hallway. Touch your amoveo and extend it until you can detect my hand again.”

  I obeyed. With my back against the wall, I touched my amoveo. As the energy coursed through me, I fed it into a sphere. This time I could instantly feel the energy working its way through the wall at my back and the bookcases to my right and left. Closing my eyes, I continued to expand the field, sensing more and more of the room with each swelling. I could also detect what was on the other side of the wall at my back, the millstone, hibernating plants, and the air. Finally, I detected Koneli’s hand, passing across the far face of the field. The disruption of its movement played across the energy field like ripples on a pond.

  “Solidify the field around my hand,” Korneli ordered.