A Mix of Magics (Arucadi: The Beginning Book 3)

by E. Rose Sabin

  When Kyla’s meeting broke up, everyone headed for a place to sleep for the few remaining hours of the night.

  “I’m too old to sleep on the floor,” Abigail declared imperiously. “Leah and I will use the guest room since Ed and Marta aren’t here to use it. Leah, you get it ready for us while I get blankets for everyone.” She turned and left the room, and Leah followed.

  Zauna chuckled. “I’m at least as old as Abigail, probably a lot older, but I’ve slept on far worse than your floor. I’ll get a blanket and just stretch out in the living room.”

  “No need,” Kyla said. “You can use Veronica’s room.”

  Winnie, holding Dreama, who was fast asleep, said, “I’ll sleep on the floor by the baby’s crib so I can keep watch over her and feed her if she wakes and fusses. There’s still plenty of goat’s milk in the cold box.” She left to carry out that intention.

  “Lady Kyla, you need to sleep, and we’ve got Petros in your bed,” Marchion said. “I think we should move him back onto his platform so you can sleep in comfort. You need rest more than any of us.”

  “I’ll help move Petros,” Renni offered. “Even if he weren’t unconscious, sleeping on his platform wouldn’t be any different than sleeping on the floor. I don’t think he’d mind, and you should have the bed.”

  Kyla gave them both an appreciative look. They lifted Petros onto his platform and wheeled it into the hall. Marchion settled down beside him, determined not to leave him alone. Kyla remained in her own room.

  Renni held back while the others accepted the blankets Abigail was handing out. She intended to see where Lore went. He, too, held back. Was he being courteous, letting the older members choose first, or did he, like her, want to know where everyone else was located?

  Finally he accepted a blanket and headed toward the living room. Renni took the last blanket and followed Lore. She didn’t care what anyone thought. Lore was good-looking and personable, but her interest in him had nothing to do with sexual attraction. He was up to something, and she meant to ask him about it when she could do so without others hearing.

  When they entered the living room, Lore turned from spreading his blanket down on the floor and grinned at her. “It’s really chilly,” he said. “Want to share blankets?” He sank down onto the blanket he’d spread out and patted the spot beside him.

  She didn’t answer, but she did kneel by him, careful, however, to hold the blanket in front of her, keeping it between them.

  He grinned. “Come on, you aren’t afraid of me, are you? I don’t have any bad intentions.”

  “Don’t you?” she said after looking around to make certain she and Lore had the living room to themselves.

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “Not really. I want to know why you lied to Lady Kyla about not seeing Jerome. I know you did, and you somehow prevented Marchion from telling her you were lying. Sounds to me like your intentions were plenty bad.”

  His expression hardened. “What makes you think I was lying?” he demanded.

  She was putting herself in a dangerous position, but she didn’t care. “I saw how you squelched Marchion. He’d been reading auras, I’d guess, and saw something in yours that made him suspicious. More than suspicious, maybe, since he swears that auras don’t lie. And then he couldn’t tell Kyla about it. What did you do to him? I didn’t know you had that ability.”

  He grinned, not an inviting grin as before but a cat-that-caught-the-canary grin. “I’ll show you what I did.”

  His boast gave her just enough warning to raise her mental shields. Even so, she felt the assault, like being hit on the head with a mallet. She rocked back on her heels, blinking.

  “Now, weren’t you about to agree we should share blankets?” he asked, that feral grin still gracing his face.

  She needed considerable strength to ignore the pain and say forcefully, “No, definitely not. I asked you why you lied to Lady Kyla.”

  The shocked look that crossed his face gave her great satisfaction. She braced for another onslaught of pain. It came, but her shields held. “I’m still waiting for your answer,” she said.

  He scrambled to his feet, and she did the same. They glared at each other. He must still be trying to do to her whatever it was he’d done to Marchion, but the pain not only did not increase; it lessened. She smiled. “Your little trick isn’t working, Lore. Now, why don’t you answer my question? Could it be because you don’t want me or anyone else to know that you met Jerome? And abandoned Veronica?”

  “I didn’t abandon Veronica. It happened just as I said. There was a terrible sandstorm, and we got separated, and after the storm died down I looked, but I couldn’t find her.”

  Good. She had him on the defensive now. “And was it while you were looking for her that you met Jerome?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Oh, stuff it! I know you did. It’s written all over your face.”

  He rubbed his face as though he took her words literally. “Look, you don’t understand,” he said. “Okay, I did meet Jerome. I lied about it because, well, Jerome isn’t what they think. He’s just a man, not a monster. I wasn’t lying about getting separated from Veronica in a terrible sandstorm that made it almost impossible to breathe. It blinded us and in trying to protect our faces we got turned around and, I don’t know, somehow we got separated. Even if we could have shouted, it would have been impossible to hear each other for the roaring of the wind that was driving the sand. I kept my back to the wind and walked with it rather than against it, hoping to find some kind of shelter, and—”

  “And you left her. She could be dead.”

  “I really thought she’d send herself back here. She does have the power to do that.”

  “But she didn’t. How much did you really hunt for her before you came back? Never mind, I doubt you looked very hard. Tell me about Jerome.” She flopped into the straight chair by the table where Zauna usually sat to look into her crystal ball.

  “He found me and gave me shelter for the night. He promised to help me find Veronica.” As he spoke, standing by the table, he ran his hand over the crystal globe Zauna had left there. He continued slowly as though planning each sentence before speaking it. “But when morning came, I was starving, and all he had to eat, what he apparently lives on, was insects and cactus leaves. I wasn’t that hungry. He would have shared the little he had with me, but when I said I couldn’t eat it, he offered to send me back and to look for Veronica and send her back, too, as soon as he found her. But he thought, as I did, that she’d probably returned home on her own.”

  “So how hard do you think he actually looked for her? And how do you know he didn’t find her?”

  “He promised to let me know.” As soon as the words left his mouth, his hand jerked free of the crystal. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “No, you probably shouldn’t have. So you can communicate with him? Mindspeech, I suppose?”

  He nodded, not meeting her gaze.

  “But you claim he’s just a man not a monster.”

  “That’s how he struck me.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “Am I?” He picked up the globe with one hand and slammed it down onto the table. “Am I?” he repeated. He threw his head back for a moment as if listening to something, then lowered his head and glared at her. “I’ll show you just how much of an idiot I am.”

  With that, Renni felt a sudden deep chill and a moment of terrible nausea. Both the chill and the nausea ended when she fell onto hot sand. She blinked, blinded momentarily by bright light.

  She got her eyes open and saw that it was no longer night but midday. A merciless sun beat down on her, its light and heat magnified in the sand’s reflection of it.

  A voice spoke from behind her. “Well, well. My friend Lore has sent me an attractive catch. Not the one I really want, but you’ll do for the time being.”

  She stumbled to her feet and turned to look at the man standing behind her. />
  Man? Lore had said Jerome was “just a man,” but that description didn’t fit the towering being who leered down at her.

  “Y-you’re J-Jerome?” She could scarcely get the words out past her fear. The face looking down on her was pure evil.

  “Ah, yes. Sorry if my appearance isn’t what you were expecting. Perhaps this will put you more at ease.” In an instant a man normal in size and appearance replaced the terrifying apparition.

  It had been an illusion, carefully crafted to petrify those to whom he appeared. She was angry with herself for having fallen for it.

  “Don’t think I’m any less powerful in my true form,” Jerome said as though he’d read her thought.

  “You didn’t show yourself to Lore that other way.”

  “No. I have plans for Lore. He will be far more useful to me if he remains ignorant of my powers. You, on the other hand …”

  “I’m of no use to you,” she finished his sentence.

  “Oh, on the contrary. I have a very good use for you. But first you need to experience the full extent of my power.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  GATHERING

  Despite her exhaustion, Kyla couldn’t sleep. She’d advised everyone to get as much sleep as they could to be ready for their attempt to confront Jerome, but she couldn’t take her own advice.

  Mayzie was dead. They had Dreama back, but Marta and Ed were gone. And now Veronica. Veronica, whom she loved like a daughter. How could she sleep, when Veronica might be in Jerome’s hands? He’d shown what he was capable of by sending the dying Mayzie back to them as a warning—and a promise. What was he doing to Veronica? What had he done to Marta and Ed?

  Concluding that sleep would never come, she arose, put on a robe, and walked through the house. Everyone else seemed to be sleeping. She checked the bedrooms and hall, and reached the living room. Lore lay on one blanket and had a second one wrapped around him. Abigail had given each person one blanket.

  Where was Renni?

  Had she lost another? Jerome had nothing against Renni. He was after those he blamed for his exile. If he already had Ed, Marta, and Veronica—and what other explanation could there be for their absence?—that left her, Abigail, and Leah. Although he could hardly blame Leah for anything. But Jerome didn’t think rationally. That frightened her more than anything. He might well mean to destroy the entire Gifted Community. He had to be stopped.

  She had to know whether Renni was another victim or had simply gone off somewhere on her own, as she might well have. She woke Lore, apologized as he sat up, yawning, and asked, “Do you know where Renni is? Didn’t she come in here with you?”

  He blinked as though trying to clear his mind of sleep. “Renni? No. I mean, yes, she did, but then she got angry about something and stormed out of the room. I don’t know where she went.”

  “She left her blanket here,” Kyla stated, pointing to the extra blanket.

  “Oh, yes. She left in such a huff …” He looked down and shrugged. “I guess I came across as, well, asking for something I shouldn’t have. I thought … She followed me in here, and I got the wrong message and acted on what I thought she wanted. Seems I was wrong.” He raised his gaze to meet Kyla’s. “I didn’t mean any harm, and I’d never force her into anything she didn’t want. I just misread the signals.”

  Was he protesting his innocence a bit too hard? Renni was a hothead and unpredictable. It could have happened just as he said. But if so, why hadn’t she taken her blanket? And where was she? Kyla had gone through the whole house and hadn’t seen her. Surely she wouldn’t have walked home in the middle of the night.

  She couldn’t escape the feeling that Lore was not telling the whole truth. It was worrisome that Renni had gone off, no matter what the provocation. The girl should have come to her with a complaint against Lore if that was her problem. But maybe she hadn’t wanted to wake her.

  Whatever the situation, she could do little about it now. It was nearly morning. She told Lore to go back to sleep and headed for the kitchen to make tea. Soon it would be time to send for the other members of the Community. She hoped they would all be willing to come and help, but no one would be forced to do so. They’d be risking their lives by going up against Jerome, and she wouldn’t compel anyone to do that. They’d either agree willingly to help or she’d send them home with her assurance of understanding.

  She’d planned to ask Renni to take her message to the various members of the Community. Now she’d ask Lore. He rode a bicycle and could get around faster than any of the others. He could look for Renni as he went. She’d point out to him that he had an obligation to try to find her, and he also had mistakes to atone for.

  Marchion awoke with a pounding headache. He’d been having dreams, disturbing ones. He recalled that much, though he could remember nothing more about them. He dragged himself wearily from the bed, dressed, and headed for the outhouse. If Abigail was up, he meant to ask her if she could heal his aching head.

  No one was in the kitchen except Lady Kyla, but thankfully she’d brewed a pot of tea. She offered to pour him a cup, and he accepted gratefully, meaning to drink it as soon as he returned from the outhouse. Maybe it would help the headache.

  He crossed the yard, heard a sleepy “Maaa,” from the goat, and reached the outhouse door when a thought occurred to him. He had spoken to Kyla, but he hadn’t seen her aura. Could the headache be responsible?

  When he returned to the kitchen. Kyla was still seated at the table, and Winnie Calder had joined her, holding Dreama and giving the infant her morning bottle. He looked at both of them, consciously willing to see their auras.

  Nothing. It had to be the headache.

  He explained about his head pounding dreadfully and that he intended to ask Abigail to heal him as soon as she was up.

  “Abigail always wakes early. I think she’ll be out soon. But why not let Winnie try to heal you?” Kyla said. “She needs to work on her healing power.”

  “I don’t care who does it,” he said, groaning. “I just need to get rid of this pain.”

  Winnie handed Dreama to Kyla and went to stand behind him and place her hands on his head. “Oh! Oh, my!” she said. “It is a bad one.”

  “It’s fading,” he said. “You’re doing it.”

  Her hands lifted from his head, and she collapsed into the chair she’d vacated and rubbed her forehead. “I could feel it,” she said. “The pain’s leaving now. How do you feel?”

  He smiled. “You did it, Winnie. The headache’s gone. I’m sorry you had to experience it to heal me.”

  “That’s a normal part of healing,” Kyla said. “Winnie, your healing skill is improving all the time.”

  Marchion gazed at Kyla and then at Winnie. “The headache’s gone,” he said, “but something else is wrong. I feel fine now, but I can’t see your auras.”

  Kyla frowned. “Healing a headache shouldn’t cause that.”

  “It didn’t,” he said. “I couldn’t see them before Winnie healed me, but I thought the headache was the problem. It must be something else.”

  “Maybe I should ask Abigail to use her healing powers,” Winnie said. “Mine may just not be strong enough to have completed the healing.”

  “I hope Abigail can help,” Marchion said. “I’ll be of no use to you if I’ve lost my only power.”

  “But you haven’t,” Kyla protested. “I’m sure the ability to read auras will return. But it isn’t your only power. Your gift as an enhancer will definitely be needed today.”

  Marchion felt a little better on hearing that, but only a little. The auras told him so much, and the threads of colored light connecting people even more. Those threads were gone, too.

  Did he still have his ability as an enhancer? He wanted to test it, but at present he had no opportunity to do so, yet if he waited until it was desperately needed and only then discovered that it was gone, the results could be tragic.

  He couldn’t bring himself to ask someone to use power
just so he could test his talent. Power should never be used without a reason. He would just have to hope that his gift of enhancement was intact and would function when needed.

  Zauna rushed into the kitchen clutching her crystal ball and screaming, “Look! It’s broken!” Sobbing, she held up the crystal and pointed to a crack that arced around the bottom of the globe, ending in a missing chip.

  This could be the opportunity Marchion had wished for. “Now, now, Zauna,” he said, “Your crystal may still be usable. The crack doesn’t extend all the way through it, and the chip isn’t that large. Why not check to see whether you can still use it? Let me enhance your power, and perhaps you can see in it just as before.”

  Her response was a withering look. “You know nothing of how a crystal globe works,” she said. “It can’t receive visions when it’s cracked and chipped.”

  “You can’t be certain of that unless you try,” he insisted.

  “I don’t need to try. I know.”

  “I understand how upset you are, Zauna,” Kyla said, and Marchion hoped she was going to support his suggestion. Instead she continued, “You can’t take your crystal with you when we go to confront Jerome. It would be of no use there. When we return we’ll see about replacing it. For now, put it aside and calm yourself.”

  “But what use can I be without my globe?” Zauna asked, tears still trickling down her cheeks.

  “You still have your power,” Kyla told her. “You’ll just have to use it in other ways.”

  “But I don’t know any other way.” Zauna set the crystal carefully on a shelf above the kitchen counter.

  “Trust the Power-Giver,” Kyla counseled. “He won’t desert you because your globe is broken.”

  Marchion hoped Lady Kyla was right and that the Power-Giver would come to his aid as well.

  With the goat milked and Dreama fed, Kyla was ready to put her plan into action. She sent Lore to fetch those members of the Community she couldn’t reach through mindspeech. She thought it peculiar that some could receive her sendings and others could not. The nongifted could not receive, but all the gifted should be able to, yet of the Community members fully one-third could not receive. She’d asked Alair about it several times, but he didn’t respond.