Challenges (17 page)

Lord Carmad took his time getting the tea, and when he turned back to us we were still standing in the places we’d scattered to. I’d started to go back to my formation place, but a short, surreptitious shake of Jovvi’s head had kept me from doing it. We weren’t supposed to be all that eager, I suddenly remembered, so being back in our formation places would have looked suspicious.

“All right, try to remember where your places are and get into them again,” Lord Carmad said with annoyance as he returned to his chair. “They told me you people would probably be difficult, but it hadn’t occurred to me that your difficulty would be deliberate. Do try to bear the strain of standing near one another, people. If you don’t, you’ll
never
Blend.”

We exchanged cold and distant glances to give his theory of animosity support, then moved back into the formation. The noble was settled into his chair again by then, and he sipped his tea while checking our spacing. This time he seemed to be looking for something to complain about, but apparently he didn’t find it.

“At least you seem to remember what you’re told,” he muttered, crossing his legs before raising his voice back to normal. “And now to continue. You will each of you open yourselves to the power, and grasp it firmly but lightly. Do I need to explain what I mean by that?”

No one responded aloud, which answered his question anyway. For myself I knew exactly what he meant, since it was what I’d taken to doing during the times I felt I needed to be more alert and whole. I was opened wide to the power, but touched only the surface of it. It was like kneeling beside a vast lake, one hand only just touching the surface of the water. Plunging that hand and arm deep was immediately possible, requiring only a tiny shift of position, which would make the touch firm rather than tenuous. I had no trouble following his instructions, but out of the blue I wondered what
his
aspect was.

“Do be certain that you’re following my instructions about the lightness of your touch,” Lord Carmad said after a moment. “Later on it won’t matter in the least, but the first time of Blending is something of a shock to the system. A light touch will minimize that shock, a heavy touch increase it. Are you all properly prepared?”

I nodded in answer, at the same time silently reminding myself that I wasn’t to show any reaction if we did manage to Blend. Remembering things and reacting properly was easier when I touched the power, and now most of my fear was gone as well. I was as ready as I ever would be, and had the distant but definite sense that the others were the same.

“Now, the next part of my instruction may sound too general, but it happens to be a necessity,” Lord Carmad continued. “Others can only suggest the method of your Blending; you five alone can find the proper way to apply that method. Form a picture in your minds of a sphere rather than a flat circle, with Spirit in the center of the sphere. Spirit is the heart and balancing force of a Blending, sending out gossamer arms to the other four members. Those arms are as fragile as a spiderweb but as strong as woven steel, a contradiction that isn’t a contradiction at all. Please try it now, Spirit.”

For an instant nothing happened, and then I felt the oddest sense of being touched. It wasn’t a physical touch, and wasn’t even like being sent comfort or compassion. It was an insubstantial questing, a search for some sort of completion.

“And now the rest of you,” Lord Carmad went on. “Spirit has sent out guiding supports, to lead you to her central balance point. You each occupy your own quadrant of the sphere, but must be linked to the center and to each other. First spread your insubstantial arms to Spirit, and once you’ve achieved connection, you’ll then reach out to the first of the remaining three members. Do it now.”

Lord Carmad’s voice had grown to sound very small and distant, as though I were floating away from it without moving from where I stood. What took all my attention was the sense of being reached out to, part of which was an urging to reach out myself. The urging had grown in strength during the last minute or so, quickly becoming a joyous demand for joining, and happily I complied. One segment of my talent reached for Jovvi, knowing exactly where she was, and found her easily. There was a … soft jolt of sorts when I touched her, and then—

If I could have gasped, I would have. The joining to Jovvi was a double one, me to her along one arm, her to me along the other. Then the joining changed, making it me-her-her-me along both arms. A merging rather than a joining, no seams or differences, and that’s when
it
happened, making me want to gasp. Without effort or thought another three sets of double arms sprang into existence, linking me to the men as well. Their individual scents and tastes were in my mouth, merged and yet distinctive: the cool, slightly aloof taste of Rion, the gentle and humorous taste of Lorand, the strong and vital taste of Vallant…

I felt as though I floated in the clouds somewhere, buoyed up on mighty wings of power. I still retained my individual sense of being, but I also felt myself to be an integral part of a WE. WE floated among the clouds in a beautiful blue sky, floating only because WE wished to. OUR strength was such that WE could have flown off in any direction, but WE didn’t want to. Floating suited US at the moment, bringing a joy so great it was beyond description.

*
Don’t say anything aloud,
* a part of the WE sent, the Jovvi part. Rion was the strongest taste in my mouth, but Jovvi was easy to recognize. *
I think we’ve done it, but we don’t want
them
to know
.* The sending wasn’t words, but something much clearer than words.

*
If we don’t want them to know about it, we’d better
break this connection,
* the Vallant segment of US sent with regret. *
This is the best thing I’ve ever experienced, and we’ll have to do it again once that noble leaves.
*

The rest of US agreed with a joint sigh, and I did my part by pulling back from the merging. Suddenly I stood in the library again, Lord Carmad in the chair just a few feet in front of me, a sense of loss filling my mind. I’d only been part of the WE for a moment or two, and already being without it made me feel crippled.

“… and now that you’ve all reached the heart of your Blending, you must reach out to the other segments of it,” Lord Carmad was saying, his voice almost a droning. “Stretch first to the member on your right, then to the one beyond that, and lastly to the one on your left. If you can’t maintain contact with all three remaining members at once, reach to them one at a time. Becoming familiar with each other is most important in this first instance, since that’s the primary road to Blending.”

I smiled to myself as I pretended to try doing as he said, knowing now that he hadn’t noticed what we’d achieved a moment ago. If what I’d been part of wasn’t Blending then nothing was, but the man continued to give us directions. If he knew, then he was wasting his breath, a pastime I doubted he indulged in often if ever.

“Just what exactly are we supposed to feel when this is done right?” Jovvi asked after another moment, her voice filled with vague annoyance. “I’m reaching out, but all I’m getting back is the impression of someone else reaching to me. More than one someone else, but how many and who I can’t quite tell.”

“But
that’s
what you’re supposed to feel,” Lord Carmad said happily, brightening out of his droning doldrums. “It takes more than one effort to achieve a complete Blending, and the first step is always the same. Try to become more aware of who it is reaching for you, at the same time making an effort to strengthen the connection. You others make the same effort, and then we’ll call it a day.”

So we stood there pretending to reach to one another, in reality—for me, at least—fighting the urge to Blend a second time. I really wanted that sensation again, in the same way that I’d wanted a second taste of chocolate after the first. The desire seemed to have the capacity for obsession, which had to be considered a lucky thing under the circumstances. If we were going to win the ultimate competition, we’d need every bit of luck we could find.

Lord Carmad waited a full five minutes, then put aside his cup and stood.

“Time’s up,” he announced jovially, brushing at his coat sleeve. “Did the attempt bring you any progress?”

“Some,” Jovvi answered with a frown I could see once I turned to her. “Right at the end there I could tell that four people were reaching toward me, and it was almost possible to distinguish one from the other. But I also had the impression that they were
just
reaching for me, not for each other.”

“Once they connect to you, reaching out to each other will become much easier,” the noble assured her, his tone the least bit distracted. “The important part is that they
are
reaching out to you, which means that a Blending is ultimately possible. If you were aware of only two or three of them, we’d all be wasting our time. Now, I want you people to practice reaching out as often as you have the strength to do it, and I’ll be back tomorrow for another directed session.”

I expected him to nod to us at the very least, but instead he dismissed us completely from his awareness. He strode to the door and left the way someone else would leave an empty room, but at least he did go. Lorand drifted to the door after him, opened it a crack, and peeked out. A brief moment later he closed the door again, then turned to us with a grin.

“He’s gone,” Lorand announced softly, sounding as relieved as I felt. “He’s gone and he never noticed. Now let’s try that again, but this time keep it going a lot longer.”

I joined Rion and Vallant in offering immediate agreement, relief turning to exhilaration. We’d done it, we’d Blended, and even more, the testing authority didn’t know!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jovvi was filled with such excitement that she wanted to jump up and down like a small child, clapping her hands and laughing out loud. A good part of that feeling was her own, but much of it came from the inflow produced by the others. They’d shared the most incredible time, but before they repeated the experience there were things they had to talk about.

“We can’t try again until we know it’s safe,” Jovvi reminded the others in a soft voice. “Can anyone else tell that we’re about to have company?”

She nodded toward the closed door, beyond which she could perceive someone approaching slowly with the firm intent to be silent. The others all produced sounds or expressions of surprise which showed they
had
forgotten, only Lorand and Vallant also looking with their talent.

“There’s a second one sneaking up to the windows outside,” Lorand supplied, nodding toward the terrace doors. “I say sneaking because that’s the only thing his or her pace can be.”

“And believe it or not, there’s one above us,” Vallant added very softly. “From the mass, I’d guess it’s a woman. Is she in one of the bedchambers?”

“No, she’s probably in the upstairs linen closet,” Tamma said with a frown, staring up at the ceiling. “And I’ve had more than enough of this. Now that we can, I’m putting a stop to it.”

For a moment Jovvi felt just as surprised as the others at the way Tamma turned and marched toward the door. There was no doubt or hesitation in the woman—an attitude produced by the fact that she still retained her hold on the power. Jovvi felt foolish for not having seen that at once, at the same time wondering whether or not to stop Tamma. They really shouldn’t be doing anything to draw even more attention to themselves, but by then Tamma was already at the door and yanking it open.

“You!” she snapped at the male servant who now tried desperately to pretend that he hadn’t had his ear to the door. “I want every servant in the house lined up in the front hall in five minutes. Make sure you include the one lurking outside the terrace doors and the one in the upstairs linen closet. Now, run!”

The man jumped and took off as if he’d had his bottom singed, which, considering Tamma’s mood, was more than possible. Rion, Lorand, and Vallant all looked at Jovvi with brows high, but all Jovvi could do was shrug. Tamma obviously had something definite in mind, but the details of what that was weren’t clear. All they could do was wait to find out, but the wait shouldn’t be a long one.

And it wasn’t. No more than the specified five minutes could have passed before all the servants were gathered in the hall, most looking puzzled, the rest nervous. Jovvi now found it easy to tell which servants were being paid to spy on them, and as Tamma stalked over to stand in front of the group, Jovvi began to file faces in her memory.

“Is the entire staff here?” Tamma asked as she looked around. “I used to know everyone under this roof, but these days half of you are strangers.”

“Yes, Dama, the entire staff is here,” Weeks, the chief steward of the house, replied calmly. “Everyone but the gardeners, who rarely come into the house.”

“So they don’t need to be here now,” Tamma said with a nod of agreement. “One of you can tell them what I’m about to say, just in case it applies to them. A number of you are being paid to watch and report on everything my associates and I do, but that’s going to stop right now.”

Murmurs and exclamations broke out in the group, a small bit of it surprise and disbelief, the rest protestations of innocence. Those who were guilty protested the loudest, of course, but Tamma simply held up a hand for silence.

“I haven’t called you together to argue the point,” she said once they’d quieted down. “It isn’t an accusation we’re dealing with, but fact, and I have no intention of dismissing the guilty parties. What I mean to do is a good deal worse.”

That produced a round of muttering, but all Tamma did was smile.

“My associates and I have been told that what we’re in the process of learning is highly confidential,” she said, looking around at each member of the staff. “It’s so confidential, in fact, that even we are subject to arrest and sentencing if we pass on any part of it to anyone else. If those of you now taking silver or gold continue with your spying activities, you won’t be dismissed, you’ll be reported to the authorities. Then you can tell a panel of judges how you accidentally found out what you weren’t supposed to know even after you’d been warned.
They
probably won’t consider it an accident, but that will be your problem. And if you think we can’t tell when we’re being spied on, guess again. Now you can go back to what you were doing—or most of you can.”