Challenges (44 page)

Afterward we lay side by side for quite a while, gasping to regain the breath we’d lost in so wonderful a way. Vallant held my hand as though we were innocent sweethearts, and finally he raised the hand to his lips.

“I can honestly say that I’ve never had such an incredible experience,” he murmured, then kissed the hand again. “It worried me that you were touchin’ the power, but at some point I found that I was touchin’ it as well. Maybe that was what helped to get me through it alive—or mostly alive.”

He chuckled before kissing my hand again, but I felt puzzled. He was right about the experience having been incredible, but an awful lot of things didn’t make sense.

“But it isn’t possible to touch the power when you’re asleep,” I protested. “And why are you still here? Most dreams fall apart just before you can enjoy them, or at the very least right afterward. And why does it all seem so real…?”

“Why do you keep talkin’ about a dream?” he asked, turning to face me and raising up on one elbow. “I expected you to argue and fight when I just walked in, but I wanted you so badly that I just had to take the chance. And I did give you the chance to tell me to leave, if you’ll recall. Did you think I was lyin’ when I said I would?”

“No,” I replied, suddenly thinking furiously despite my shock. “It’s just… Did you decide on this visit privately, or did you tell the others you were going to try it?”

“I had to tell them,” he responded with a small shrug. “If a riot started, they had to know why and be prepared to keep it as private as possible. Why do you ask?”

“Because now I know why I thought this was all a dream,” I said, more than a little annoyed. “Jovvi and Lorand obviously decided to help you, so first thing tomorrow I’m going to have to murder them. I’d do it now, but I haven’t the strength to move.”

“Was it really
that
terrible for you?” he asked, and the pain in those very light eyes echoed in the middle of my breast. “If I’d known you would feel like that—”

“Don’t be an idiot,” I interrupted, putting my hand to his face. “I’m going to murder them because it wasn’t terrible at all, quite the opposite. It was even better than I’d thought it would be, but how am I supposed to forget about you now? How can I spend even one more night refusing to lie beside you?”

“The answer is you can’t,” he said, the pain now replaced with loving delight as his arms went around me. “But you haven’t lost anythin’, you’ve gained someone to share strength with. Why not try it for a while before decidin’ whether or not you like it?”

“As if I still had the choice,” I muttered as I snuggled closer to him. “I’m still going to murder them, but maybe not
first
thing tomorrow. I may let them live until second or third thing. Do you have the strength to put out that lamp?”

“Only just,” he acknowledged, and then the small flame died completely. It was nice not having to bother myself, but not nearly as nice as getting ready to sleep in the arms of the man I cared so much about. Jovvi and Lorand had had no right to interfere with my decision about Vallant, but maybe … after I thought about it for a while … I might not murder them at all…

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Lord Idian Vomak listened to the group’s latest description of how their last practice session had gone, pretending to be interested and attentive. In truth his thoughts kept trying to veer away, distracted by much more important matters. The Advisors were far from happy that they would have to wait until after the competitions before they would have a culprit to blame for three deaths, and they’d taken to making everyone’s life miserable. Happily, though, it would not be for much longer…

“Lord Idian?” he heard, and blinked back to the realization that Kambil spoke to him. “Is that result satisfactory, sir?”

“Completely satisfactory,” he replied with a brief smile, although he had no true idea what he’d been told. “In any event, you must agree that it has to be satisfactory, as tomorrow is the first day of the competitions. Are you all prepared? Beginning to be nervous? If you are, I assure you that it’s quite natural.”

“I think we’re all just bundles of raw nerves,” Delin Moord said with a faint smile, possibly even telling the truth. “The only time we’re not is when we’re Blended. Is that true of the others as well?”

“I really don’t know, as I haven’t spoken to them about it as yet,” Idian replied, fighting not to show his opinion of Moord. In general the man seemed too … sleek to be capable of murder, but Idian had been forced to believe that he might very well be the one… “And at the moment we have other things to discuss, things which are more pressing.”

“About tomorrow?” Lady Selendi asked with thinly veiled excitement. “I’ve been thinking about it for days, and I’ve finally decided what to wear. It’s—”

“Excuse me,” Idian interrupted, “but what you wear is decreed by tradition, not decided individually. Each of you will compete in a white, hooded robe, just as your opponents will. Members of Blendings dress alike to stress the fact that they are in reality one being, and everyone wears white to show that everyone has an equal chance to win to the highest place. That is tradition, and we see no reason to alter it.”

The five young people exchanged glances and shrugs, as if to say that the silliness wasn’t worth arguing about. The matter was more ridiculous than silly, but there was no need for Idian to mention something they all knew.

“The coaches will come for you tomorrow morning,” Idian continued, “but not particularly early. The first competition will begin at noon, and although you need to be there well ahead of time, it’s nonsensical to keep you sitting around for hours. Do not, however, use the opportunity of a less than early beginning to practice, as that will wear you out and leave you easy prey for your opponents. You must make as good a showing as possible, to keep your failure from reflecting on the rest of us as a group.”

They barely blinked at that, which Idian found extremely satisfying. If they’d penetrated the lies they’d been told and had realized the truth, they would have reacted in some way to what he’d just said. The lack of reaction meant they were still under control, just the way they were supposed to be.

“Assuming you’re successful against your opponents tomorrow, you will be returned here for the night,” Idian went on. “The second competitions are scheduled for the second day, of course, but only four of the five remaining Blendings will compete in it. On the third day there will be two Blendings competing, and on the fourth day our new Seated Five will be decided on. By then there will be near hysteria in the city, and we’ll all do well to avoid the crowds completely.”

“What if we’re not successful against our opponents?” Kambil interrupted to ask, the question casual and almost one in passing. “Will we go somewhere other than here?”

“Yes, actually, you will,” Idian responded, annoyed that the point hadn’t been bypassed as he’d hoped it would be. “You’ll go instead to the temporary headquarters established by my superiors, where you will each give a detailed description of your individual view of what Blending has been like. While you’re about this your possessions will be packed by the servants, and will arrive at your various permanent places of residence not long after you do. Are there any other questions?”

Once again the five glanced at one another, and a second series of shrugs was his reply. They had no other questions, and so it was time for him to leave.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow, then,” he said as he moved himself to his feet. “I mean to be there to wish all of my people good luck.”

The smiles and nods they gave in answer were perfectly polite and correct, so Idian was able to dismiss the group from his thoughts as soon as he left the house. One or two of the others would give him a good deal more trouble, and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to it…

* * *

“He’s gone,” Kambil came back to report, reclaiming his chair among them. “And as far as I could tell, he noticed nothing at all.”

“That’s a considerable relief,” Delin said, speaking for himself and probably for the others as well. “We took a rather large risk, and on the eve of the most important day of our lives. If he’d noticed our little trick, it could have been all over for us.”

“How could he have noticed what he never consciously saw?” Kambil asked, keeping his tone reasonable and reassuring. “Our Blending projected an illusion for him, the details of which he himself supplied. In it he went through the routine he expected to, and received only the most ordinary reactions from us. We did ask a single mildly annoying question, but one he had no trouble responding to. After that he simply left, remembering nothing of the real question and answer period.”

“But I remember it,” Bron said, sounding sober and bleak. “If we lose tomorrow we’ll be sent somewhere to ‘describe our experiences as part of a Blending.’ An interesting euphemism for being quickly put out of the way, which is what will really happen. What lovely, grateful people they are.”

“Don’t forget that they’ll take us on separately,” Homin pointed out with disgust in his voice. “We’re expected to be almost useless as a Blending, but they’re still frightened enough of us that they won’t face us as a group. It makes me sick to think that I used to consider myself one of them.”

“The only thing we’re one of now is this group,” Selendi said fiercely, looking around at each of them. “They don’t expect us to be one of the winning Blendings, but they’re in for a very big surprise. We’re going to be the only winning Blending when the competitions are over, and then we’ll see who gets sent where.”

“We certainly will,” Kambil agreed, blocking out Delin’s usual vague dissatisfaction. “We’ll have a very large house to clean, but it’s well past time that it was done.”

“And I know just where we’ll start,” Delin put in, finally finding something to agree about. “Once we win, I’ll tell the rest of you all about it…”

* * *

“Yes, that’s truly marvelous,” Lord Twimmal said to the group of peasants, pretending he cared how their latest practice had gone. “But we do have other things to discuss, and I would prefer to get to them without any further delay.”

“Of course,” the female Spirit magic user said with a smile. “Please do go on.”

The woman was rather attractive for a peasant, as was the other one, the Fire magic user. Twimmal wouldn’t have minded keeping either of them for a while once their usefulness to the empire was over, but the matter would have been more trouble than it was worth. Powerful men had already expressed an interest in the girl of Fire, and as far as the other one went, Twimmal knew his wife would never understand…

“As you know, tomorrow is the big day,” Twimmal continued after clearing his throat. “The first of the competitions will be held, so I’m afraid there won’t be any partying permitted tonight. You must all get your sleep tonight, so that you’ll have sufficient strength tomorrow.”

Two of the male peasants made sounds of disappointment, and the third simply looked extremely annoyed. They’d all undoubtedly been spending gold like water, and now disliked the idea of stopping. Well, that was just too bad about them. They’d had their pay, and now it was time that they worked for it.

“What sort of thing will be involved in the competitions?” the Spirit magic female asked. “I mean, will we and our opponents both be trying to do the same thing, or will we be competing directly against each other?”

“My dear girl, do I look old enough to have attended the last twenty-fifth year competitions?” Twimmal countered in annoyance over being interrupted. “I have no more idea of what will be done than you, which, I understand, is the way my superiors want it. May I continue now?”

Her nod looked properly chastened, so Twimmal felt considerably better.

“Tomorrow morning, the coaches will be here for you rather early,” he said, picking up his dropped thread of thought. “Everyone wants to be completely certain that you’re prepared to do as you must, and you will also require a short time to change your clothing. Traditionally, everyone in these things competes wearing white hooded robes, therefore you will wear the same.”

Twimmal was certain one of them would interrupt again, but his earlier rebuke of the Spirit magic female had undoubtedly impressed the rest into keeping silent. That result was more than gratifying, as it allowed him to wind things up.

“I’ll be attending the festivities tomorrow along with Lady Eltrina, so I’ll see you all then,” Twimmal said as he began to struggle out of the chair. “Enjoy the rest of today, but do practice as much as possible. In fact, if you’re able to rise early enough to practice in the morning, by all means do so. It can only sharpen you for the actual event.”

And with that, the last of it, said, Twimmal made his escape. These peasant places always stank of filth and squalor, which usually made him quite ill after he visited them. He kept the illness from taking him over until he was home, of course, but then he was forced to empty himself. Thank whatever Higher Aspect there was that the torment was nearly over. And the next time his wife and her father banded together to insist that he accept an appointment, he would be much more firm in refusing it…

* * *

“… and his carriage is leaving the drive now,” Rion heard Jovvi say. “He’s obviously not going to be coming back, so now we can talk.”

“A point of interest has occurred to me,” Rion said, looking around at his groupmates where they sat. “The Advisors prefer to have as few people as possible knowing about Blending, but Twimmal is one of those who has learned the method of accomplishing it. His knowledge is sloppy and skimpy to be sure, but it’s knowledge nevertheless. What do you suppose will be done with the fat fool now that his usefulness is at an end?”

“That’s an excellent point,” Jovvi said with a startled nod. “It hadn’t occurred to me that they would be quite so ruthless with their own, but they must be using this opportunity to cull their ranks. Pick the ones they most want to be rid of, have them learn what no one is supposed to know, and then dispose of them. Two birds with a single stone.”