by Sharon Green
“You did nothing at the pleasure parlors but faint,” Kambil’s voice came through the ringing in Delin’s ears. “After the first time, you mumbled something before you came out of it about how happy you were to have killed the girl. The manager of the establishment took that as his cue about how to behave, and therefore told you that he’d discreetly gotten rid of the body. Your tip to him was so generous that he shared the information about your preferences with the managers of the other parlors you patronized, and thereafter he shared their own tips as well. They lied to you, you fool, and simply kept the ‘dead’ girls out of your way for a while. You never really noticed their faces, so there were some you ‘killed’ two or three times.”
“No,” Delin moaned, fists to his temples in an effort to stop the throbbing pain in his head. “I did kill them, I did! Them and Elfini and Ollon Kapmar! You’re lying, you’re—”
“What I am is sick and tired of cleaning up after your messes,” Kambil said from somewhere, unbelievably sounding annoyed. “I didn’t trust you any farther than Selendi could throw you, so I followed you when you so generously agreed to help Homin. You were actually fool enough to go in and abuse that woman, after which you fainted as usual. If I hadn’t been there, she would have summoned the guard and had you locked up and the key thrown away.”
“She certainly would have,” Homin agreed soberly. “She lived for power, so she never would have dropped the charges. You would have stayed under arrest, and we would have been given a Low or Middle talent in Earth magic to round out our Blending.”
“So I had to make her forget about what had happened,” Kambil continued. “You were dreaming happy dreams as usual, but she was straining to recover what I’d forced her to forget. I could tell she’d recover the memories unless I stayed there and kept a constant eye on her, and that was completely impractical. So I gave you something else to dream about, and went back that night and killed her myself. Just in time, I might add, as she was close to remembering what had happened. That was the real reason she beat Homin’s father so badly. The incident was beginning to come back, but she still felt confused about the identity of her attacker. Confused enough to think it might have been the man under her whip.”
“But I was there,” Delin whispered, still writhing in pain in the chair. “I remember every bit of it…”
“Every bit but the killing part,” Kambil said with a sound of scorn. “I couldn’t get your mind to accept that part of it, because it was reality rather than fantasy. You’ve never been able to handle that sort of reality, not after what your father did to you—and made you do. You did clean things up nicely, though, after I told you what had to be done. And while you thought it was your own idea…”
“But you couldn’t let well-enough be,” Bron said, sounding like a disapproving adult speaking to a child. “Your hatred of Rigos was so intense that you had to keep punishing him for being a better man than you despite his lack of talent. Kambil was busy working with us and the servants at the time, and we all thought you were safely off with one of your bored older women. They pass you from one to the other as a group joke, and all the time you believed it was your charm that got you into their beds.”
“Bron woke me when you were late getting back, so we went out searching for you,” Kambil said. “It took a short while to pick up your mental trail, so by the time we caught up with you you’d just finished telling Ollon Kapmar that you’d killed his sister. The man’s obsession was much too strong for me to work through, so he had to die as well. This time I was able to give you the entire scene, because I disguised it as daydreaming. I had you do everything necessary in the way of removing our traces and then kept you from going back into the room, but it was all wasted effort.”
“Because we didn’t know that Rigos had killed himself,” Homin said, his tone just like Bron’s. “That ruined everything, of course, because instead of dropping the investigation with the death of the strongest suspect, they realized that Rigos was innocent after all. So they dug and questioned and checked and cross-checked, and now they know exactly who the real murderer is.”
“You,” Kambil supplied cheerfully while Delin fought to keep his head from breaking open. “Zolind told me so when he and I spoke privately, only he doesn’t remember that he told me so. He also doesn’t remember admitting that it would be impolitic on his part to let us lose in front of everyone, but he’ll never allow us to be Seated, not as long as he lives. That’s why our first concern has to be doing something about the condition.”
“His continuing to live, Kambil means,” Selendi said with a chuckle. “In point of fact we’ve decided not to let any of the Advisors live, and you’ll do your part to help us end them. We won’t need that something extra to accomplish their ends, so from now on you’ll be under complete control. You’ll even be under control when we destroy the present Blending. We’ve already checked, and their strongest member is no stronger than a good Middle.”
“But first we wanted you to know how much trouble you’ve caused us,” Kambil said, for the first time with vindictive satisfaction in his voice. “Your insanity runs much too deep for me to be able to do anything about it, even with Grammi’s help. Oh, that’s right, you don’t know that my grandmother has been helping me. She loves me even more than I love her, and she’d never let anything terrible happen to me. The fact that she’s also a High in Spirit magic has all but doubled my effectiveness.”
“Which he needed when he had you under partial control,” Homin said negligently. “We had to give the commoners the keying phrase to release them from the control of others, but you almost refused to send it. Kambil did some very thorough research when he was supposed to be napping all those times, and he discovered that our peers in the other Blendings were all incompetent fools. They were also not nearly as strong as we are, so if the commoners were freed they would eliminate our peers for us—leaving us as the only ones the Advisors could support in order to save everyone’s face. Kambil also found out that that one Blending would not hesitate to pass on what they learned, so they had to be the ones to be given the information—which you regretted sending even while you were doing it. You just have no imagination or the courage to take a chance, Delin.”
“And now that we’ve had the pleasure of telling you the truth, you’ll be put under Kambil’s complete control,” Bron said with the same smile that Homin and Selendi showed. “You’ll no longer have to be coddled, and you’ll do exactly as you’re told. You certainly won’t like it, but you also won’t be able to do anything about it. Goodbye, Delin.”
Delin had been trying to scream, but nothing in the way of sound came out. The ice of terror had formed all through him, and then it froze him solid—
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Lorand awoke—to a certain extent. His head ached in a way that he’d never felt before, the pain so intense that he wished he were unconscious again. And there was nothing he could do to stop the pain. Even if he’d been able to work around it—and the blurriness covering his mind—he couldn’t seem to figure out where the power was…
“Look, he’s tryin’ t’wake up!” someone said, sounding alarmed. “He ain’t ’sposta try t’ wake up!”
“So what if he does?” another voice countered, male like the first voice. “They got him so doped up that he won’t even know what day it is. When you feed him later, you’ll probably have to keep shaking him to remind him what he’s about. But you better not let him start wasting away, or they’ll skin you alive.”
“Why?” the first voice demanded, a heavy whine to it. “I heared he’s prob’ly all kindsa damaged like, ’cause a th’ way he got yanked outta that Blendin’. Gettin’ yanked out’s ’sposta damage ’em real bad, so why’d they still want ’im? An’ if he ain’t damaged, how’m I ’sposta handle a High?”
“Why do you insist on worrying about things that are none of your business?” the second voice asked, sounding angrily impatient. “Even if he’s left with no more
than Middle talent, they’ll still want to find that out for themselves. They’ll be able to use him even like that, but if his talent level remains intact, he’ll be much more valuable. They’ll dose him with Puredan to make him docile, and then they’ll use him until they burn him out. You, personally, have nothing to fear, because they’ll transport him to where the army is before they let him come back to himself. Are you satisfied now?”
“Yeah, yeah sure,” the first voice muttered, and then there was silence again. But it wasn’t silent inside Lorand’s head, where fear joined the unending pain. He had no idea what the men were talking about, and couldn’t even remember what had happened to him. He lay on something hard in a place with a terrible stench, but he didn’t know where the place was. He was supposed to have been doing something, but he couldn’t remember what that something was.
All he knew was that someone was going to try to burn out his mind.
A long moan escaped Lorand’s lips as he tried to free himself from whatever held him down, but it suddenly came to him that he wasn’t chained or even tied. Something insubstantial held him in its grip, but its lack of substance did nothing to limit it. It held him tightly, like the arms of a very strong woman…
A woman. Hadn’t there been a woman in his life somewhere? The memory of her hid just out of reach, teasing him with hints and suggestions. Had she been like that, a woman who teased? He’d always wanted to meet a woman who would tease him lovingly and gently…
Gently. That word didn’t fit anywhere in his world. He’d tried gently to open his eyes, but they’d refused to work. He’d wanted his head to pound more gently, but he couldn’t make it happen. Nothing was working right…
Working … was he working? Had he had an accident? Someone really should have come by to tell him what was going on, it would only have been common decency. Now…
Now he wished he knew where he was … and what had happened … and who was he, anyway…?
* * *
Jovvi felt as though she floated in a heavy sea, she herself heavier than usual. Everything around and about her was heavy, even the air almost too thick to breathe. It was a strain to draw that air into her lungs, and struggling to do it made her head hurt more. But it also seemed to thin the sea a bit, enough so that she could just touch the outer world…
“Well, well, aren’t you the adventurous one,” a male voice murmured very near to her, and then a hand smoothed her hair. “You’re actually trying to wake up, even though it isn’t time for you to do that. First we’ll find a place to make you nice and comfortable, then we’ll wait for the first transport group that’s formed, and then you’ll take a nice long trip. You’ll like that, won’t you?”
Jovvi could almost understand the words being spoken to her, but trying harder was out of the question. Even lying wherever she lay was almost too much of an effort, so anything beyond that … except for taking a deeper breath…
“Now, now, just settle down,” the voice said, again almost clearly enough to be understood. “I understand that you’re probably disappointed, but the lord who is Seated High in your aspect decided that he doesn’t want you after all. To look at you, one might easily consider him mad, but then one would have to pause in thought. If a man of his strength doesn’t even care to dally with you for a short while, you must be dangerous indeed. I am a man possessed of sufficient courage for all things, yet my sense of discretion usually surpasses the other. They’ll make good use of your talents—whatever they may now be—in the place where you’re awaited, and I’ll find a less adventurous—and adventuresome—woman to do my own dallying with. Rest now, for when you get where they mean to send you, there will be no rest short of death—or burnout, whichever comes first.”
Jovvi thought she heard the word “burnout,” and agitation began to build inside her. That word … it meant something beyond the ordinary, beyond what most words mean. She had to … do something she hadn’t gotten around to … had to remember something specific … find someone important…
Opening her eyes proved to be impossible, as was any sort of movement. And that hand, smoothing her hair … it made her want to rest for a while, to sleep until the sea rolled out and she wasn’t so heavy any longer … heavy … sleep…
* * *
“Yes, my darling, that’s right,” Rion heard, a woman speaking softly and encouragingly. “Try to wake up just a bit, my darling, so that you’ll understand what I have to say.”
Rion fought to open his eyes, but at first his vision was too blurred to make anything out. Blinking helped to solve the problem to some extent, but it was still necessary to focus. He finally did so, using the face which swam before him as an anchor, and once success was his he immediately wished he’d failed.
“No, no, darling, don’t frown so,” Mother chided, just as she always used to do. “It will put lines into your face and make you look older, and then people will think I’m older. We certainly can’t have that, now can we?”
Rion tried to speak, to tell her just exactly what she would and would not have, but his tongue refused to operate properly. And his head ached so abominably that he winced at the concept of trying to form words into a sentence.
“Of course we can’t,” she continued with a smile and a pat on his cheek, just as though he’d agreed with her. “Now that you’re back beside me again, we won’t allow anything into our lives that isn’t perfect. No, don’t try to speak, you won’t be able to do that for some time yet. I’m going to keep you drugged for a bit, you see, to make sure you aren’t able to keep yourself from being permanently damaged.”
Permanently damaged … The words chilled him, even though he had no idea what they meant. Nothing could have happened … he didn’t remember anything happening … but where had that headache come from…?
“Don’t you worry about that now, darling,” Mother went on, chatting happily. “The physician tells me that you’re probably permanently damaged anyway, but there’s a chance the damage can be minimized if you’re able to work against it. But we don’t want it minimized, not when that might let you imagine you can escape me again. You can’t, you know, because you’re mine and always will be. But please don’t think you’ll be given an allowance again, I’d hate for you to be disappointed. From now on Mother will control everything, and you’ll be her loving, devoted, talentless boy.”
Rion fought against it, but the tears rolled down his face anyway. He couldn’t even remember what had happened, but he still felt a vast sense of inconsolable loss. It wasn’t even possible for him to move, and that seemed to please Mother enormously.
“That’s right, my darling, you have a good cry,” she said, the expression on her face making him ill. “Cry all you need to and then you’ll sleep, and when you awake everything will be the way it was before. Except that I’ll never again allow you to leave my side. But then—there won’t be any reason for you to leave, will there, my darling?”
Rion let his eyes close again, which did nothing to stop his tears. It seemed as though the crying came from a very small boy inside him … while a grown man tried to rage and fight. But that grown man had no strength … and the mists of sleep were closing in again … and couldn’t be avoided even though they would trap him forever…
* * *
I think I became aware of my heart beating first, which struck me as being odd. A person is rarely aware of her own heartbeat, unless fright causes it to quicken or to nearly stop dead. My own heartbeat was more than ordinarily rapid, but I didn’t know why…
“I said, lovely child, can you hear me?” a man’s voice came, the words answering my previous question. The thud of my heart grew even louder as I recognized the voice. It belonged to a man whose name I didn’t even know, but the vague, unformed memory of his intentions was very unsettling.
“Your muscles have tightened a bit, so I presume you can hear every word despite your lack of verbal response,” the man went on. “That suits me well enough for the moment, as I shall
speak and you need only listen. Later, of course, you’ll also be expected to obey. If you fail to do so, you’ll be made to produce a verbal response other than speaking.”
He chuckled at that, a sound which made my blood run cold, but for no reason easily understood. Who was this man, and what did he want of me?
“To begin with, I should explain that the pain I’m told you probably feel is the result of your having been damaged,” he said. “It’s highly unlikely that you’ll ever be what you once were, but please don’t feel relief just yet. My interest in you remains as high as it was, for you’re still perfectly able to serve my purpose.”
What purpose? I wanted to say, but the lethargy all through me didn’t allow it. I had no idea what he was talking about, but for some reason it still frightened me.
“Now, I mean to keep you quietly sedated for a time,” he said, “but not for too long a time. I find I’m truly eager to begin with you, and as soon as the Puredan is brought to me I’ll have you drink it. After that you’ll no longer need to be sedated, and we’ll be able to begin.”
He chuckled again. “There’s something rather amusing that you should hear. Your father and some crony of his attempted to claim you, actually challenging my right to possess you. I put them off until tomorrow, but only to give myself time to prepare something really special for them. It will be the highlight of my dinner party tomorrow night, and I mean to let you be present to watch. No, don’t try to thank me, I’ve already decided on how I mean to be thanked.”
His chuckling really bothered me, especially since I could almost remember something about my father and some friend of his. That memory was just as disturbing, even without any details. I didn’t want to hear about any of it, and the best way to escape was in sleep. I felt sleepy anyway … sleepy and frightened … sleepy and miserable … sleepy and very lonely…
* * *
