Prophecy (47 page)

Bron made the effort to get to his feet, but his first movement resulted in sudden agony in his middle. His first thought, that he’d hurt himself falling, was quickly dismissed, as he’d only fallen from the height of his knees. No, the pain he felt was more reminiscent of what he’d felt before Delin had given him the counteragent, but it couldn’t be the poison troubling him again. He’d had his dose right on time that very morning, and shouldn’t need another until—

That was when Bron remembered what Mardimil had said to him, about Delin having failed to tell him the truth. The poison and the counteragent… Now the poison was winning again, and it would take the antidote to save his life. He had to get up and find Delin, who had probably been hiding the antidote to use as another lever against them—

Screaming agony ended Bron’s second attempt to rise almost before it began, tearing him apart and forcing him into a curling on the floor. The pain was worse now, he was certain it was, but that couldn’t be allowed to stop him. In a moment he
had
to get up and go looking for Delin, otherwise he might—might—

“Mother, help me!” Bron tried to scream out, but the pain had grown again. The words turned into a choked whisper, his air was taken again without Mardimil even being there, and then—

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

I hurried into my own corridor as fast as Lorand went into his, fully determined to get all this confrontation business over and done with. Lorand had seemed a bit more edgy than I felt, which was somewhat unusual. During the times of the tests, I’d always been just as jumpy and disturbed as he’d been…

But things did change, I realized as I walked along, at least for me. I’d grown strong enough on the inside to be only a little worried about the rest of my strengths, just worried enough to keep me from arrogance. I’d been on the verge of arrogance when I’d gone out in Widdertown to face those five Fire talents alone, but I’d been saved by nearly getting myself roasted. That sort of thing makes you think once no one else is around—and once you stop not caring whether or not you’rekilled. I still hadn’t
quite
gotten over not caring, and might not for some time to come…

I sighed as I walked through corridors lined with beauty and wealth, paying less attention to the decorations than to my thoughts. Oh, I did make sure to check each room as I approached it to see if there was body heat to show occupancy, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t also fret about what would happen if we all won over the usurpers. Vallant had tempted me into kissing him again, but did that kiss mean anything? The incredible attraction I felt for him would never change, but what about our relationship? Would there ever really be such an animal, or would we spend the rest of our lives—however long they were—debating proper actions and feelings?

Knowing that things rarely happened just because you wanted them to, I walked along brooding about just how much effort had to be put into a relationship before it worked out. Along with that question came the one asking if I were
capable
of putting out that much effort, and the answer was that I didn’t know. I could well decide to try, but would trying count if I failed? What if Vallant tried and failed? How much credit would I give
him
for making the effort? More than he gave me, or less?

It took only a few minutes of that to decide that this wasn’t the time to be driving myself crazy with unanswerable questions. It would be humiliating to run smack into the enemy while muttering under my breath about having to find a daisy. The he-loves-me—he-loves-me-not game would do at least as well as I’d done with answering my questions, and right now that seemed the best—and only—way to settle the matter. Pushing it all aside for the moment and thinking about getting attacked was a positive relief, which should give a fairly accurate idea of my state of mind.

Not long after making that very wise decision, I detected two sources of heat in a room just ahead of me. I paused after making the discovery, wondering if two people meant some kind of trap, then shrugged over the matter and started to walk again. Although I hadn’t been able to fight back, I’d been able to hold my own against a tandem force of five Highs in Fire magic in Widdertown. Even if there were two waiting for me here, it shouldn’t be more than slightly difficult to defeat them.

The door to the room holding the two people was closed, so I opened it and walked in. I really have no idea whom I expected to see, but finding Lorand’s former friend Hat as one of them certainly wasn’t part of it.

“I think you’ve made a mistake, young lady,” the other man said as soon as he saw me, both men having come to their feet at my appearance. “One of your colleagues was meant to meet us here, so if you’ll just run along and find him and then send him in your place…”

“Making someone feel unwelcome doesn’t necessarily also make them feel inferior,” I commented as I walked farther into the room. “Sometimes—like now—it makes the person wonder why you’reso afraid of them that you’redesperate to be rid of them. Do you really think you’ll do that much better against Lorand because you have that spoiled little brat to hide behind?”

“He can hide behind me all he likes!” Hat snarled, glaring at me as though I were personally responsible for all his ills. He’d also interrupted the other man, but obviously wasn’t aware of it. “I have a score to settle with that so-called friend of mine, and I’m going to—”

“You’ll do nothing!” I snapped, sick to death of the little boy’s tantrums. “You’ll do nothing because that’s all you’ve ever done, that and blame other people for
your
failures. You can’t be a High talent just because you want to be, even though you would have deserved it. It would be perfect justice if you got what so many others have.”

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, but with less force and more disturbance than he’d shown a moment ago. “Being a High talent is the best thing possible—and I
am
one—so don’t try feeding me any bull. They cheated me of my place and gave it to Lorand instead, and he just let them get away with it. That means I owe him plenty, and it’s time to pay up!”

“You do owe him plenty, but you’retoo stupid and self involved to know it,” I countered with a snort. “To begin with, if you really were a High talent, no one would have lied about it or tried to deny it. The nobles
wanted
to find High talents, you see, because they conditioned them with drugs, then sent them out to be part of the empire’s armies of conquest, and generally treated them like slaves. Our group missed all that, because they happened to need people for challenging Blendings meant to face their noble Blendings. And they also needed dupes to send against their Seated Highs, people who were either not strong enough or too full of drugs to win.”

The frown which creased his face was at least partially one of memory, as he’d been thrown into a competition as one of those dupes. I’d been there to see it so I’d mentioned something he couldn’t simply dismiss, and yet I wasn’t about to give him the chance to draw the wrong conclusion.

“But don’t even
think
about trying to claim that you were drugged,” I said at once. “If you had been you would have behaved differently, so that’s the second proof you’ve refused to accept. The Seated High was only a Middle himself, just a stronger, more practiced one than you, and that’s why he bested you. So that means you’ve been pining away for a position that was being held by someone who wasn’t a High either, but someone who didn’t stand around crying about the lack.”

That comment made him look as though I’d slapped him in the face, but only for a moment. People like him always knew what they knew, and getting them to change their minds took more comments than just one.

“That still doesn’t let Lorand off the hook,” he said after the moment, his face twisting again from that little-boy anger. The man who stood beside him, the one I’d really come to see, simply stood and listened, an expression of droll amusement on his face. After he’d been interrupted that first time he’d made no effort to curtail or join our conversation, but I hadn’t dismissed his presence even a little.

“Lorand still owes me for not giving me any help,” Hat went on with his huffing. “After they cheated to make me lose the competition, those people gave me to someone who made me into a literal slave! I worked till I dropped and was beaten if I didn’t then pick myself up and work some more, and Lorand didn’t make the least effort to get me out of there!”

“The first question which comes to mind is, what makes any of that Lorand’s responsibility?” I countered, folding my arms. “You were given a coach ticket to get you back home, and you cashed it in and drank up and gambled away the money. When you lost more than you had, you tried to get
yourself
out of trouble by throwing Lorand to the wolves in your place. At the time he didn’t even have
copper
to give you, but you demanded gold. When they finally let him earn some gold, he paid Meerk to find you and was ready to finance your trip home out of his own pocket. He tracked you down at the competition, but once again you knew better than to listen to what he had to say, and
that’s
why you ended up as a slave. Not long after that we started to have our own trouble, so why don’t you tell me what
you
think Lorand could have done to save you from your own stupidity again?”

“That’s not fair!” he blurted, his face flushed and his fists clenched. “It
wasn’t
my fault, not any of it! Those lousy nobles cheated me, and—”

“And you’rethe only one who was cheated?” I interrupted, still backing him into a corner. “They cheated everyone who came past them, but some of us were able to blame ourselves for not having done anything about them sooner. You, though… Name one thing in your life that turned out badly because of something that was your fault alone. We all have things like that we can point to, as all human beings make mistakes. But it takes an adult to admit to them, so let me hear you say it. You ignored Lorand’s advice, and because of that stupidity you ended up being worked like a slave. Show me that you’refinally becoming an adult
worthy
of having someone like Lorand as a friend, and say the words convincingly.”

Instead of saying anything at all, he just stood there staring at me with a frown. Confusion and hurt were clear in his gaze, but even then he found it impossible to admit that the trouble he’d had was his own fault. He’d probably spend his life blaming others for his ills, and die filled with bitterness that people had always let him down.

“Is the entertainment over now?” the other man said with a fey expression, looking expectantly back and forth between Hat and me. “No more accusations and protests of innocence? Isn’t it odd that those who are guiltiest are always first to protest how innocent they are.”

“I’ve been taught that most often they actually
believe
that they’reinnocent,” I said, joining in the game of ignoring what we were really in the middle of. “For one reason or another they can’t handle the truth, so they convince themselves that what they’redoing is right and proper. People don’t do ‘evil,’ they do what’s right and pleasurable and good. The trouble comes in when their definition of those things doesn’t match everyone else’s.”

“You know, I never thought of that,” he replied, now looking interested rather than amused. “I, myself, always do what’s necessary, but others rarely agree that those things are needful. So you believe that it’s their definitions which are at fault?”

“If everyone disagrees with you, chances are good that it’s
your
definitions which are faulty,” I said, feeling as though I’d already had that conversation. “I’ll grant you that that isn’t always so, that it depends on who the other people are, but if you
know
you’realways right, you’rejust as bad off as
he
is. No one is right
all
the time, and if you don’t know that, you’reout of touch with reality.”

“Why
can’t
someone be right all the time?” he countered, still speaking calmly and smoothly. “I grant you that most people aren’t, but what makes it so impossible for one person out of the general herd to be perfect? Could it be envy and spite which make it impossible?”

“I’m glad we’respeaking in general terms rather than talking about someone in particular, like yourself,” I returned, my arms still crossed. “If you
were
silly enough to put yourself forward as perfect, I’d have to point out that a perfect man would hardly have groupmates who’d been poisoned. And that same perfect man would now be facing the person he’d expected and prepared for, not someone else entirely.”

“Ah, but maybe that perfect person
wanted
his groupmates to be poisoned, so they’d be more easily controlled,” he said with a grin of pure enjoyment. “Let’s not forget that he himself wasn’t poisoned along with everyone else, so that has to count for something. And as far as expecting someone in particular goes, that is surely
your
conclusion, not necessarily the truth. One does what one can with what one has, after all, and to a certain
lower
type of person, one hostage is often as good as another. After all, how would your precious friend Lorand feel if you were to tell him that his bosom companion was dead because of you?”

“He’d probably grieve for a while, and then he’d get on with his life,” I replied, fleetingly wondering why we were still just talking. “If you think he’d blame
me
for that man’s death, you’ve probably made the first mistake of your life. I’m not the one who brought him here, after all, and Lorand has no trouble with putting blame where it properly belongs. And as far as your
wanting
your groupmates to be poisoned, that would be your prefirst mistake. It may help you to control them now, but what will happen when the counteragent no longer works and they die? In order to save them you’d have to have the antidote, and you
don’t
have it, do you?”

“When the time comes that they need the antidote, I
will
have it,” he growled, no longer amused or even interested. “I’m not a High practitioner in Earth magic for nothing, but let’s discuss the antidote you and
your
groupmates will need. Since time is very quickly running out, where do you imagine you’ll get it?”