Psychicians (a Hyllis family story #5)

by Laurence Dahners

  The man looked surprised, but almost immediately began to look more accepting. He lifted a book and a pen. “Your names?”

  “Cassie and Terry Hilton,” Kazy said without hesitation.

  The man wrote down the names, having Kazy spell them for him. Then he opened the gate and waved them through. When another guardsman began to object, he said, “They’re here to do a clothes fitting for Baroness Linni. I’ve already checked it out.”

  Once they’d passed the guard shack by a distance, Tarc said, “Baroness Linni?”

  Kazy shook her head, “I didn’t tell him that. People seem to be pretty good at filling in the details themselves once they’re… urged.” She pointed to the right, “Daussie’s down this way.”

  They only encountered a few more people. None of them seemed surprised or objected. Tarc wasn’t sure whether this was because they felt confident that no one untoward could be within the palace grounds, or whether Kazy soothed their reactions before they even formed.

  Arriving at a building, Kazy leaned her head up against it for a moment. She turned to Tarc, “Daussie’s in the second room, not the closest one. She’s lonely, but not upset. Let her know what’s going on.”

  Tarc sent in his ghirit, ignoring the woman in the room just on the other side of the wall and skipping on to the next room. The woman there was in front of a window, presumably looking out. Grabbing some air molecules, Tarc vibrated them to make them produce sound, saying, “Daussie, it’s Tarc. I’m outside your room with Kazy. How’re you holding up?”

  He listened with his ghirit. She said, “Okay. Bored. Was Norman’s injury serious?”

  “No. Mom said the cut went down to his sternum but, unless it gets infected, it shouldn’t cause any trouble. I don’t think she’s even planning to put a stitch in it.”

  Daussie’s head shook slowly back and forth. “I can’t believe he tried to stand up to that guardsman,” she said, sounding frustrated. “What was he thinking?”

  “I think he likes you, lord knows why… We’ve started moving the tavern.”

  “Because of my arrest?”

  “No. Mr. Blackstone showed up with his teams right after you and Norman left on your little date.”

  “It wasn’t a date!” Daussie took a breath and continued more quietly, “We were just going down to see what the new caravan had to offer.”

  “Oh, excuse me. It quacked like a duck and waddled like a duck, so I thought it might be a duck.”

  “Very funny,” Daussie said, sounding not at all amused. “What’s our plan?”

  “Well, Kazy seems to be able to make us invisible to the guards. So I was thinking you’d just cut the locks and walk out here. Then she’d ‘invisible’ us all the way back to the tavern.”

  There was a pause, then Daussie said, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “What?” Tarc replied, somewhat indignantly. “You aren’t planning to just stay here and wait for him to… um?” Tarc trailed off, not wanting to elaborate on what the baron might do.

  “So, let’s say I just disappear from here. What happens when they realize I’m gone?”

  “Well… they frantically search. But there’s no harm done if they can’t find you.”

  “Where am I going to be hiding?”

  “In the underground complex,” Tarc said.

  “And how about the fact they’re going to dismantle the tavern looking for me?”

  “It’s already dismantled.”

  “You know what I mean. They’re going to threaten Mom and Dad. They may threaten everyone who works at the tavern. They can cause all kinds of trouble just looking for me, even if they never find me. Some people could get killed.”

  “You can’t stay here!”

  “The solution’s not for me to leave this place. The solution’s for you to get Kazy near the baron and have her suck the crazy out of him.”

  Tarc blinked, thinking it sounded reasonable but that there was some flaw in that plan. “That sounds good, but how are we supposed to find the baron, then get him to hold still while Kazy gets close enough to adjust him?”

  “Same way you found me.”

  “We could find you because Kazy has some kind of mystical telepathic connection with you. She says as soon as she’s within four hundred meters she knows where you are.”

  Kazy interjected, “Tarc, it’s not just Daussie. I’d be able to find you too.”

  Tarc turned to look at her. “How do you know what we’re talking about? I thought you weren’t going to listen to our thoughts?”

  “I’m going to when you’re talking to Daussie about really important stuff and leaving me completely out of the conversation!” Kazy said indignantly. After a moment, she elaborated on her first statement, “I can find Daussie farther away than anyone else because…” she shook her head as if she’d decided not to go into detail. She looked Tarc in the eye, “I could probably find you out to about three hundred meters.”

  Because Daussie couldn’t hear what Kazy said, Tarc transmitted it to her. Daussie said thoughtfully, “So, Kazy has no idea where the baron is?”

  “Nope.”

  “If you wandered around and accidentally got close to him, would she know it?”

  Tarc looked at Kazy, who shrugged and said, “Probably.”

  Tarc relayed this to Daussie. She said, “So, wander around, see if you get lucky.”

  “Daussie…!”

  A moment passed, then Daussie softly said, “It’ll be okay Tarc. I can protect myself if I have to.” Tarc was still trying to think of a reasonable protest when she followed that by saying, “Thanks for caring, brother of mine…”

  “Crap…” he said, though he didn’t transmit it to Daussie. He sent, “We’ll try to find the baron. If it looks like they might actually hurt you, don’t be stupid. Protect yourself!”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Tarc turned to Kazy. She said, “Your sister’s crazy, huh?”

  “Yeah,” exploded out of him with a massive exhalation. “Any ideas on where we should look for the baron?”

  She shook her head. “But, I can probably get some pretty good ideas if I can get close to some of the people up here.”

  “How close do you need to be?”

  She gave a minute shrug, “Two to three meters.”

  They walked around the complex. When a guardsman came their way, first he looked suspiciously at them, then lost interest and walked by within two meters of them. Tarc turned to Kazy, “Well?”

  She shook her head. “He wasn’t thinking about where the baron is. I’ll need a lot more time than I’ll get during a walk-by. If he’s not thinking about it, I’ll have to actively bring the stuff I need to know to the top of his mind.”

  Tarc frowned, “I thought you learned all kinds of things about the baron, just standing behind him briefly in the tavern?”

  “Not specific kinds of stuff like where someone’s located. General stuff, like the way he thinks other people don’t matter and his wives are more like toys than people in his mind. That kind of stuff comes fast right off the top.” She jerked her head in the direction the guardsman had gone, “That guy was thinking about how he likes horses and how he hopes he’s going to get a spot in the mounted guard. Not anything we needed to know. When I checked out the baron I was behind him for several minutes, stimulating him to think about certain topics so I could learn what he thought about them. Stimulating someone to think about a precise location would take even more time.”

  “So, should I stop the next guy and ask him a few questions to get him to hold still for you?”

  “Better yet, ask him where the baron is. Even if he doesn’t answer, it’ll jump the location to the forefront of his mind and I’ll be able to pick it up.”

  The next person they met wasn’t another guardsman. A couple of women came their way, walking close to the wall. Tarc would’ve characterized them as being furtive. He feared they’d refuse to talk to him, nonetheless, he moved into the
ir path, asking, “We’re looking for the baron. Can you tell us where he’d be?”

  The women stopped, glancing at one another and looking frightened. Both shook their heads. After a moment, one practically whispered, “No. We don’t know.”

  Not moving out of their route, Tarc said, “Can you at least tell us where he spends most of his time? What building he works in?”

  They looked at each other again. This time they seemed somewhat surprised. The one who’d spoken before said, as if she thought Tarc was confused, “He’s the baron. He doesn’t work.”

  “Well, you know, holds court? Meets with advisors. Whatever barons do?”

  Shaking their heads and still looking frightened, the two women started trying to edge past Tarc. Reluctant to continue badgering them when they seemed anxious, Tarc shifted himself a little to let them get by but tried one final question, “Is he even here today?”

  One shrugged, the other shook her head. They hurried past.

  Tarc looked around for Kazy, surprised to find her right beside him. “What’d you find out?”

  Kazy shook her head as well, “That the bastard’s raped both of them, the prettier one many times. That the reason they stay near the walls is in an effort to keep from being seen. That they really don’t know where the baron is. Mostly they focus on where he isn’t, because that’s where they try to be. Unfortunately, they work as maids around the palace and the baron manages to find them fairly often. They think he asks the guardsmen where they and other women are. They believe the guardsmen don’t want to tell the baron where they are, but…” She shook her head again, “Our friend the baron’s a nasty piece of work. I’m starting to agree with Daussie. Capital punishment’s not bad enough for him.”

  Tarc looked at her questioningly, “Even though a war of succession would probably get a lot of people killed?”

  Kazy gusted a sigh. “No… You’re right. Killing him’s not the answer.” She looked at Tarc for a moment, “He’s got talent. At least telekinesis. What if… What if he can resist my attempts to change him?”

  Tarc shrugged, “Then he’ll have to die.”

  Kazy gave a nod, then said, “And suppose you throw one of your knives at him, but he uses his own telekinesis to deflect it?”

  Tarc blinked, responding slower this time. “Then I telekinetically thump his brainstem.”

  “And if he thumps yours as soon he recognizes you’re a problem?”

  Tarc frowned at her, “You really know how to make a sunny day look bleak, don’t you?”

  “I just think we need to consider these kinds of things ahead of time.”

  “And are you proposing any solutions? Or just things to be terrified of?”

  “All I’m coming up with so far are problems. I do hope to come up with some solutions.”

  ~~~

  They kept walking. Encountering another guardsman, Tarc asked him where the baron usually was—rather than where he actually was. The man looked askance at Tarc, eyes going up and down over his clothing. For a moment Tarc thought the guardsman might try to arrest him. Then a friendlier look appeared on the man’s face. Lowering his voice, he spoke as if confidentially, “The baron’s usually in his apartments in the afternoon.” Helpfully, the man waved toward a cluster of buildings. “Some mornings he’s in his audience room,” he pointed at a white building. “Evenings, he visits his wives’ apartments. You can’t see those from here.”

  Tarc said, “Thanks, I know where the wives’ apartments are.” He found himself wanting to ask the man what he thought of the baron, but decided he should simply wait to hear what Kazy’d gotten from the man’s mind.

  As the man walked away, Kazy spoke contemplatively. “That guy was a decent human being.” She shrugged, “A few quirks, like everyone else, but nothing terrible.” She gave a little laugh, “Might be I’m partial to him because he despises the baron almost as much as I do.”

  They went around a corner and came to a long straight street. A small group of guardsman saw them and, after a moment’s startlement, started trotting their way. Kazy tugged Tarc’s sleeve, pulling him around another corner and between two buildings.

  Tarc frowned, “How come they even noticed us?”

  “Because they’re too far away for me to influence.”

  “Oh,” Tarc said. Then after a moment’s thought, “But I still don’t see why it’s a problem. When they get close, then you can change their minds.”

  Kazy gave him a wide-eyed look, “Tarc, those guys were archers. Didn’t you notice they were unslinging bows? We’re not dressed like the fancy people up here. I think they were about to shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Tarc felt a little frisson of fear. He’d never tried to deflect an arrow that was coming at him, though he supposed he could. Several arrows, coming at him and at Kazy, I might not get them all, he thought. He looked around, “Then I’m not too happy about being trapped in this tiny alley.” He sent out his ghirit and found the men were about to start around the corner and into the little alley themselves. He told Kazy this as he reached back for a throwing knife.

  In a strained voice, she said, “Working…”

  Tarc’s ghirit showed him the men slowing just before the corner, then stopping and looking around. Half a minute later they wandered off, not even staying together.

  He looked at Kazy. She was rubbing her temples. Looking up at him, she said, “That’s about as far as I can do anything. Even then, it was only to make them lose interest, not to provide actual direction.” She sighed, “Let’s come back later tonight. Then people won’t be able to see us from farther away than I can influence them.”

  Tarc wasn’t happy about her proposal. “Are we going to go back and let Daussie know what’s going on?”

  “No. I’ve got a ripping headache and I’m not going to be much good at making anyone ignore us.”

  “Okay,” Tarc said with a frustrated sigh. He turned toward the end of the little alley.

  “Wait.” When Tarc turned back to her, Kazy was sliding down the wall to sit, bracing her elbows on her folded knees and her head in her hands. She looked grey. “I need to rest a bit before I try to get us back down the mountain.”

  Chapter Eight

  After the stress of making the guardsmen ignore them from around the corner, it took Kazy nearly half an hour to recover. They made it back out of the palace, down past the offices and castle, then the rest of the way down to the tavern. They were surprised to see that the kitchen and brewery had already been moved away.

  As they climbed the stairs to the dining room, Tarc said, “I guess we’re not getting a home cooked meal tonight.”

  Kazy gave him a surprised look, “That’s the least of our problems.”

  Inside they found Farlin supervising a couple of day laborers. They were packing the mugs and other glassware from the bar into baskets. He looked up and asked, “Were you able to find out anything about what happened to Daussie?”

  Although he usually got along with Farlin, Tarc occasionally had momentary flashes of anger. Like now when he was thinking about how Farlin had threatened Daussie’s life. On other occasions, it’d be about how Farlin had wanted to sell his own sister as a bride.

  But, Farlin was a good employee who did a great job of managing the dining room; collecting and accounting for the money; training and supervising any temporary help; and negotiating better deals with suppliers. He’d apologized ad nauseam for threatening Daussie, though he still didn’t seem to understand why wanting to follow through on his father’s agreement to marry Nylin was so reprehensible to the Hyllises.

  While Tarc was getting his sudden anger in control, Kazy said, “She was arrested by the baron’s men. He may be thinking he’s going to force her to marry him.” She leaned closer to him and spoke quietly—evidently hoping Tarc wouldn’t hear. “And don’t you dare suggest marrying a baron could be a good thing.” She leaned back and continued pleasantly, “How’s everything coming on the move?”


  “Pretty well. I hired a bunch of day laborers and they’re helping. Some guy named Sarno showed up with his wife and kids. That whole family’s pitching in. Your mother, Nylin, Grace, and Fayeli are moving everything out of the old kitchen and setting stuff up in the new one down there. Norman, Sarno, and the day laborers are helping your dad set up the new brewery stuff in the old kitchen.” He shook his head, “They dropped one of the barrels of beer trying to get it on the wagon for the move down there and it cracked open. A full-scale party broke out on the street with everyone gathering around to drink the beer before it all leaked away. Your dad thought fast and told them they could drink as much as they liked as long as they helped load the rest of the barrels on the wagon. The extra manpower sped the loading a lot.”

  Tarc said, “I guess we’ll go on down there and see if we can help. You don’t know if the kitchen’s in good enough shape to cook dinner, do you?

  Farlin shrugged, “I don’t know about that. But if you’re going to walk down there, I’d suggest you take as much fragile stuff as you can carry. If you don’t have anything like that in your room, your mother’s been asking anyone who’s making the trip to take stuff from the clinic.”

  ~~~

  Tarc got his bow and his arrows out of his room, but then he saw Kazy starting down the stairs with the microscope. It was big and clumsy enough she was struggling with it. Thinking there was significant risk she might drop it he said, “Here, I’ll carry that.” Putting his arrows back in his room, he caught up to her. “Maybe you could carry my bow?”

  She gave him a quick grin, “Thanks. I’ll just go get Daussie’s test lenses too.”

  ~~~

  Arriving at the tavern’s new location, they were fortunate to catch Eva and Daum together in the old kitchen so they could explain the Daussie’s situation to both of them at once. Eva was upset, confessing that she hadn’t been able to concentrate on the move for worrying about her daughter. She asked a lot of questions but unfortunately didn’t come up with any brilliant solutions for the dangers Kazy feared the baron might pose.