A Perilous Power (Arucadi Series Book 5)

by E. Rose Sabin

  Dr. Tenney returned, followed by the ghoulish figure he’d called on earlier to bring chairs. Trevor shrank away from it without knowing why.

  “The path your sister took is unfortunately closed to me,” the doctor said. “I can’t go after her, but I can send my servant to track her down. He will not tire and cannot be distracted from his search.”

  The shrouded figure glided silently to the center of the room. Its cowled head swayed back and forth, reminding Trevor of a hunting hound. It moved slowly forward, toward the wall, seemed to shimmer for a moment, and vanished as if it had passed through the wall.

  “He will not return without his prey.” The doctor rubbed his hands together. “Come, let’s return to my workroom where we can wait more comfortably.” He clasped Carl’s arm and led him along, again ignoring Trevor.

  He trailed unhappily after them, worried about what that thing would do to Les and Miryam when it found them. For the first time it occurred to him that Les might have been right about Dr. Tenney. But possibly the doctor did not yet understand what kind of person Carl was.

  Trevor vowed to make him understand. He’d ask his questions, make his accusations, and demand his answers. No more sitting idly while Dr. Tenney spun meaningless tales to fill the time.

  They entered the workroom and Dr. Tenney gestured toward the chairs. “Sit down, gentlemen. I’ll join you shortly.” He went to a table at the room’s far end and fussed with the device that sat on it.

  Carl sat as instructed. Trevor’s resolve wavered, but his concern for Les would not let him join Carl. He navigated the maze of tables and came up beside Dr. Tenney. The doctor did not seem to notice him, being absorbed with adjusting the angle of a brass hemisphere balanced on a slender, stiff spring and wrapped erratically with thin strands of copper wire that looped around the missing half of the sphere as well.

  Trevor cleared his throat. “Sir, you do understand that Carl forced Les to come here with him, don’t you?”

  The doctor looked up from his tinkering. “Forced? That’s an interesting word. It has so many shades of meaning.”

  “The point, sir, is that Les came here unwillingly and left of his own volition. I’d like to ask why you are so determined to bring him back. What do you intend?”

  “Would you and he not have come to me willingly, bringing the letter from your uncle, if your plans had proceeded without interference?”

  “Yes, we would. But in that case Les would have had no reason to be distrustful. We’ve had bad experiences, sir. Instead of pulling Les back here against his will, it would be better to let him go. He’ll come back on his own, if you give him time. And if he sees that Carl has had to restore what he took from us.”

  “Ah, but the letters have been delivered to their proper addressees.”

  “Yes, but Mr. Hamlyn doesn’t yet know why Carl passed himself off as me, and—”

  “And he doesn’t need to know,” Carl said, coming up behind him and dropping his hand onto Trevor’s shoulder. “We had an agreement, remember?”

  Trevor knocked Carl’s hand away. “An agreement I was forced into!”

  “Ah, that word again, forced.” Dr. Tenney made a final adjustment to the wire-bound globe of air and metal, leaving it balanced on the spring at a precarious angle. “Let us discuss the implications of force. Shall we?”

  With a hand on the shoulder of each, Dr. Tenney steered Trevor and Carl to the chairs. Although tempted to resist, Trevor thought better of it, since the doctor seemed disposed to have the discussion he’d wanted.

  “I assume when you speak of force, Mr. Blake, you do not refer to physical force but to a use, or perhaps I should say abuse, of power.”

  Being addressed formally made Trevor uneasy. “He used both, sir. What’s more, he swore he’d hurt or kill us if we didn’t cooperate, and since Les has no power, he’s defenseless against someone like Carl.”

  Dr. Tenney pointed the stem of his unlit pipe at Trevor. “You, however, have power. You are not defenseless.”

  He turned to Carl. “Mr. Holdt, you seem to have gone to a great deal of effort to gain entrance into the Community. How did you expect to profit?”

  Carl leaned forward. “How did you know my full name? I never told you.”

  Dr. Tenney smiled. “It’s my business to know things. Now answer my question.”

  Carl scowled. “Why shouldn’t I want to get in?” he asked in a surly voice. “I’m gifted.”

  “So you are,” Dr. Tenney agreed pleasantly. “Your sister, however, has the greater gifts. Yet you did not seek entrance for her.”

  “I would have, once I got in. She’s shy and wouldn’t apply on her own. I always have to do things for her.”

  “You are indeed a solicitous brother. Oh, but I should say ‘half brother,’ shouldn’t I?”

  “What difference does that make?” Carl was defensive. “And how do you know?”

  “Let us say that I have been watching your career for some time.” Dr. Tenney paused to fill and light his pipe. “I know much about you—and your sister. Your half sister, that is. I know that your mother was forced to marry your father against her will and despite the fact that she loved another man. That three years after you were born, she ran away with the man she loved, abandoning you, which, I daresay, you have always resented. For two years they hid successfully from your father. During those two years, Miryam was born. She bears her father’s surname, Vedreaux, though he and her mother were not wed.”

  Carl grew progressively more nervous and angry as Dr. Tenney proceeded. “You have no right—” he said. “You’ve been spying.”

  “In a sense. I make it my business to know all I can about the gifted. Your mother was highly gifted. It was through her that you and your half sister inherited your talents. Your father tracked down your mother and her lover, shot him, and brought her back. She stayed with him to protect her daughter, because your father threatened to kill the child if her mother tried to leave again.

  “It is sad but no surprise that your mother died young, leaving her little daughter to the tender mercies of you and your father. You had by that time discovered that Miryam had power and that you could not only draw on it but link it to yours tightly enough to make her your slave. The poor girl has not had an easy life."

  “Neither did I,” Carl snapped. “Not with a mother who hated me.”

  “As your father hated Miryam,” Dr. Tenney said. “Your sister, though, has come out of that sad childhood less damaged than you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Carl sat as though poised to leap from his chair and attack Dr. Tenney.

  Trevor watched closely, resolved to go to the doctor’s defense, if necessary. The doctor seemed unworried, however, and could undoubtedly defend himself. Trevor was delighted at the way Dr. Tenney had exposed Carl’s true nature. He waited for the doctor to pronounce judgment and exact a punishment—one that Trevor was sure would include barring Carl from entrance into the Community as well as restoring all that Carl had stolen from him and Les.

  Dr. Tenney merely smiled and said, “It means that while your ambition is laudable, your unworthy motivation has blinded you to the possibilities that attend your rare talent.”

  Trevor could restrain himself no longer. “Rare talent! He’s a thief and a con man. Is that what you call talent?”

  “He is also a leech. It is that talent to which I refer.” The doctor paused to expel smoke from his mouth and watch it form a perfect ring and float to hover like a halo over Carl’s head. “It is not an approved talent, and it has become exceedingly rare. Yet it has undeniable advantages.”

  “I was told I’d never be admitted into the Community with that gift,” Carl said.

  “That’s true, I’m afraid.” Dr. Tenney sent another smoke ring to follow the first. “At least, under ordinary circumstances.”

  “Look, I don’t get this,” Trevor broke in, outraged. “The way you’re talking, it sounds like you’d approve of his being in
the Community. Even though you obviously understand what he’s done and what he is.”

  “Oh, yes. I do fully understand,” Dr. Tenney said with a slow smile. “It is you who fail to understand.

  “Young man, I am an Adept. No one in the Community has more power than I. Several in the Community object to the ways I use my power, and, I must confess, some have proposed that I be ejected from the Community. That’s of no consequence, since no one has the power to do it.”

  He chuckled and sent several smoke rings spiraling toward the ceiling before continuing. “I am fully aware of Mr. Holdt’s devious nature. His treatment of his half sister has been appalling. But as it happens, his talent is one I would find useful. I would soon have sought him out, if he had not kindly saved me the trouble by showing up on my doorstep. And I will have no difficulty keeping Mr. Holdt controlled. I have, in fact, been exercising that control since his arrival. You may have noted the times he has lapsed into a semiconscious state in which he could obey orders but not initiate any action.”

  Carl jumped to his feet and confronted the doctor with raised fists. “What right do you—”

  His fists unclenched; his hands went to his throat and clawed at it as though trying to remove an invisible noose. Choking, face turning crimson, he backed to his seat and sank into it.

  His color returned to normal. His hands fell to his lap. He glared at Dr. Tenney but said nothing.

  “You see?” Dr. Tenney addressed Trevor. “Another demonstration. When he learns to accept instruction, he will be a convenient tool.”

  Trevor was horrorstruck. Les had been right about this man: He intended to bring Les and Miryam back here. They would all be in his power.

  But no, he was letting Les’s paranoia influence him. Dr. Tenney had done nothing to threaten him and had agreed to uncover Les’s talent. Carl was getting no more than what he deserved. Trevor decided to withhold judgment until he knew more specifically what the doctor planned.

  “Will you have Carl give back the money he stole?” Trevor asked.

  “I doubt that he has much of it left. Don’t worry; far greater riches can be yours when you discover the full extent of your talent.”

  The doctor’s response intrigued Trevor. He had not thought of his power as the key to wealth, but of course it could be. Carl had spoken of the great wealth of Doss Hamlyn. Undoubtedly it had been gained through a judicious application of his talents.

  Dr. Tenney puffed placidly on his pipe, and Carl sat in sullen silence, leaving Trevor to his thoughts. His imagination conjured up schemes for gaining control of businesses, making power-guided investments, accumulating a vast financial empire. He licked his lips.

  Uncle Matt and Aunt Ellen had not put their talents to such use. They lived comfortably, though, without the hard labor that had been his father’s lot. They simply weren’t ambitious.

  But he was.

  And Les was not. He would have been content to remain on the farm, to inherit it one day from his father, and to spend his life slopping hogs and raising beans and carrots and turnips and corn and cabbage. Les was lucky that Trevor had led him away from all that to a better, more exciting, and more rewarding life. He might throw away his opportunities and return to the farm if Dr. Tenney did not find him and bring him back here. Or if he was brought back but refused to let the doctor test him. With all that Les’s friendship had meant to him through the years, he could not let Les make a tragic mistake; he had to keep him here and help him develop his gift.

  A whirring sound intruded on his thoughts. He followed the doctor’s suddenly intent gaze and saw the wire and brass sphere the doctor had so carefully adjusted spinning and bobbing on its spring like a top. Dr. Tenney rose and rushed toward it, setting his pipe on the first table he passed.

  A scream from Carl stopped him short of his goal.

  “No! She can’t!” Carl shouted, tearing at his head. “Stop her!”

  Dr. Tenney left the globe to its wild gyrations and hurried back to Carl, who was writhing and flopping about in his chair. The doctor placed his hands on Carl and tried to quiet him.

  “Come here, boy,” he shouted to Trevor. “Help me.”

  Trevor got up and moved warily to the doctor’s side, uneasy about helping his enemy.

  “Grab his hands,” the doctor ordered.

  Carl’s hands were clawing at his face and scalp. Trevor had to use all his strength to pry them away and hold them still. Carl fought insanely, screaming, spittle flying from his mouth, his eyes rolled back in his head. His struggles knocked over his chair and tossed him onto the floor. Trevor and Dr. Tenney both lost their grip on him and had to throw themselves onto him to subdue him again. He beat his head against the floor. Both hands gripping Carl’s, Trevor placed a knee against his forehead to keep his head still. The doctor held his legs to stop his kicking and rolling.

  The seizure went on and on. Dr. Tenney panted, his face red from unaccustomed exertion. Trevor’s hands grew slick with sweat, and he knew he couldn’t hang on to Carl much longer.

  Abruptly Carl went limp. In the ensuing silence Trevor heard a loud clunk. The odd sphere of wire and brass had tumbled from its spring pedestal and was rolling toward them.

  Dr. Tenney let go of Carl and gathered up the sphere. He peered through the wire strands into its empty interior. “Well. I might have known,” he fumed. “It’s that meddlesome witch interfering again. Thinks she’s won, but she’s dead wrong. I still have the tool I need to drain power from the members of the Community and appropriate it for my own use.”

  He held the sphere over Carl’s head and plunged his hand between the loosely wrapped wires. Trevor could hear his fingers tapping the interior of the brass hemisphere. After a few seconds, he withdrew his hand. Trevor was sitting on the floor beside Carl. The doctor placed the hand that had been in the sphere on Carl’s forehead for a moment, then raised it to Trevor’s.

  The doctor’s fingers felt cool against his sweaty brow. He relaxed beneath the soothing touch. “Good boy,” the doctor murmured.

  Trevor heard Carl stir beside him, but he didn’t bother turning his head to see whether the seizure was recurring. His eyes had closed; no need to open them so long as Dr. Tenney’s comforting hand remained in place.

  “What are you doing?” he heard Carl ask in a shaky but sane voice.

  “You know that your tie to your sister has been broken,” the doctor responded. “You’ll need another partner. I’m preparing one for you.”

  Dazed, Trevor only partially grasped the meaning of the doctor’s words. He should object; he knew that, but he couldn’t raise the energy.

  The doctor’s hand pressed harder, his hand guiding Trevor’s body back to lie flat on the floor. “Sleep,” said the doctor softly.

  He fell at once into a dream from which he could not wake. In the dream, he saw a snake slide its sinuous body between the wires over the brass hemisphere. Green and glittering like those that had chased him in the forest, it glided toward him. He lay helpless, unable to move as it slithered onto his body, stretched over his face, raised its head, and struck, sinking its fangs into his forehead.

  Trevor moaned with pain but could not move to shake the serpent off. It did not retract its fangs from his brow, but seemed to pass through the incision it had made and pull itself slowly into his brain. He felt it winding through his head, threading itself through his thoughts, binding his will.

  The pain ceased when the snake settled in, its entire length inside him. He felt fingers press the spot where it had entered. “It’s done,” a voice announced. “His power is yours. And you are mine.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CROSSTHREADS

  The Community was not at all what Trevor had expected. He had been picturing it as a place: a fenced compound with massive iron gates behind which the members lived in splendid security and isolation.

  It was not a place; it was people. Ordinary people, as diverse as a cross section of any large city would be. Thirty or
forty of them crowded into the patio of the pleasant but unpretentious home of a Community member, a meeting place chosen at random, Trevor learned, its location transmitted by code to the members. The Community functioned as a secret society, exchanging passwords and arcane handshakes, sending encrypted messages, holding clandestine meetings. Trevor was reminded of a secret club he and Les had organized when they were about nine years old. Its sole purpose had been to exclude those classmates who were not among their privileged friends.

  Like that club, this group cast suspicious glances at one another as though wondering who might be a traitor. All spoke in guarded tones, and, despite the crowding, all kept a careful distance from the initiates in case they might be informers and spies.

  Dr. Tenney alone of the group maintained an air of cheerful equanimity. He’d gotten over his anger at the failure of his servant to return with Les and Miryam and dedicated himself with great enthusiasm to arranging Carl’s and Trevor’s presentations to the Community. That occasion had arrived, and he radiated confidence and good cheer.

  He stood with his two initiates beneath a potted plum tree hung with lanterns. Most of the company was standing, though Doss Hamlyn sat on a stone bench in the center of the patio. A young woman sat beside him, and a tall, muscular man stood directly behind them. His protective stance made Trevor suspect that he was a bodyguard. Dr. Tenney paid the man no notice but identified the pretty, dark-haired woman beside Hamlyn as Hamlyn’s daughter, Leila. She gazed with frank interest at the two young men, but her father scowled when he looked their way.

  Hamlyn knew that Carl had pretended to be Trevor on the visit to his house. What explanation the doctor had given for that deception, Trevor didn’t know. Dr. Tenney didn’t seem to feel that it would spoil their chances for admission to the Community.

  After spending the past four days a prisoner, along with Carl, in Dr. Tenney’s house, Trevor no longer wanted to be admitted. Dr. Tenney gave him no choice. Their admission, he’d explained, would tip the balance of power in his favor and away from Doss Hamlyn.