Convergence (31 page)

Jowi suddenly laughed at herself, interrupting the daydreaming to get down to the business of washing. She was still stuck with having to go through those "sessions," and so, obviously, was Lorand. Until she found a loophole in the law to free the two of them, making plans was a foolish waste of time. Time that could be used more profitably napping while waiting for dinner to be ready.

It would have felt good to soak in the bath for the next hour or two, but Jowi knew that the longer she waited, the harder it would be to get
herself
moving out of there. So she washed her body and hair, being careful not to lose the edge of the bath, then dried and dressed. On the way back to the main house she passed another woman obviously heading for the bath house, a tall woman with reddish-brown hair who was pretty in a hard, obvious way. The other passed Jowi without a word or a glance, so Jowi shrugged to herself and simply returned to her room.

Stretching out on the bed felt wonderful even if she
was
fully clothed. Getting in and out of her things was completely beyond her, and there was still dinner to look forward to. But not before she'd napped a little . . . and then added a few touches of makeup . . . brushed her hair . . . hid her gold. . . .

So you see some
of
us had an easier time
of
it than others. Meeting each other, I mean. None
of
that first part was easy, nor were the times that followed. I often found myself wondering
if
it was really worth what we were putting into it, but most
of
that came later. It was when—Oh, all right, I'll tell it in the order it happened. There were other things happening as well, much
of
which we either heard about later, or put together with guesswork. You see, it was—All right, all right, I'll stop telling them about it and show them! But
if
you feel so strongly about my innocent comments, I'll just have to make fewer
of
them in future.

Sixteen

The room was large but
austere,
containing nothing but a long table with chairs around it, and half a dozen lamps on the walls lit the surroundings but failed to warm them. The lamps were lit because of the lack of windows, but the six men who entered seemed not to care. The last of them closed the door firmly,
then
went to take his place at the head of the table. He was quite ordinary looking, from his appearance no more than a prosperous businessman. He wore silk trousers in gray which flared at the ankles, a pale blue shirt with just a hint of ruffles, and a darker blue coat which reached no longer than his waist. An ordinary businessman who carried some papers, his unremarkable features showed nothing of an expression.

The other five men present were not the same. They were clearly individuals, but the resemblance each had to the others was quite noticeable. All of them were of middle years

or
approximately so, each had a pleasant, oval face which inspired trust and friendliness, and none of them was remarkable in any negative way. All had medium brown hair and unprepossessing brown eyes, average builds on bodies of average height, and hands unmarked by any sign of manual labor. They dressed in varying colors, but all wore the same sort of loose-sleeved shirt and cloth trousers.
Nothing remarkable, except for the remarkable resemblance.

"You may begin your reports," the man at the head of the table announced, removing a pen and jar of ink from the inner pockets of his coat. "Am I mistaken, or have we finally reached the end of the flow?
Air?"

"Yes, sir, we
have
reached the end of it," one of the five responded with a faint smile. "The last of the applicants arrived and were processed, and now we're almost ready to move forward. Would you like the figures?"

"If you please," the man at the head of the table agreed, his pen already inked and now poised over the papers set before him.

"This month, the final month, the Air magic applicants totaled twenty," the other man obliged. "Three of them proved to be no more than ordinary Middles, incapable of drawing in more of the power than that level calls for. We rescued them before they died, thanked them gently for coming, then sent them home. One of them cried, but they all went."

All five of the men who resembled each other chuckled, adding to the impression of similarity, and then the man representing Air magic continued.

"Of the remaining seventeen, fifteen died. Nine of them were flawed potential Highs without the proper capacity, so they weren't able to handle the amount of power necessary to solve their dilemma. The summoned power burned them out, and we disposed of the bodies as usual. The other six might have been the same, but there's no way of knowing. They lost their nerve at some point, which made them lose control of their ability, and then they died. Only two passed the test and survived, one not long after the first of the month, the second today."

"Well done," the man at the head of the table commented, most of his attention on the figures he wrote. "And those two were given the proper drink, were they not?
Along with the proper instructions?"

"Should it become necessary, they will certainly respond to the orders given by someone in authority," the second man agreed comfortably, "Neither of them noticed a time lapse, so they had no idea almost an hour had passed from the moment they took their first swallow of the drugged water, to when they finally drained the cup. They'll be no more of a problem than any of the others."

"Excellent," the man at the head of the table said, taking the two sets of papers handed to him. Then his glance went to another of the five.
"Earth?"

"The applicants in Earth magic did about the same," the third man supplied easily. "Five were Middles and therefore rescued, ten died and were disposed of, three survived and passed. All three responded properly to the drink, and none of them noticed a thing."

The man at the head of the table wrote again, accepted the three sets of papers passed over,
then
said, "Fire?"

"Fire magic had twenty-two applicants this month, and five turned out to be Middles," the fourth man answered with a faint smile. "Thirteen died trying to do more than they had the ability to, and four survived and therefore passed. The ordinary people of this land don't know how grateful they should be to us. We cull those who are born unfit before they're able to pass on their handicaps, thereby keeping their numbers manageably low. If not for us, every town and village and city would be knee-deep in flawed Highs."

"Making the general population that much more difficult to control," the fifth man agreed with a short laugh as the fourth handed over his sets of papers. "Water magic applicants were just as cooperative, with thirteen of the nineteen dying. Two were Middles and were
rescued,
four were unflawed and therefore passed.
At least to this point.
What they'll find it possible to do next remains to be seen."

"Especially when they find themselves competing with other applicants who have been here and practicing for months, if not all year."
This from the last of the men, who wore his own faint smile.
"At least a third of them won't survive, and another third will try to withdraw. My figures for Spirit magic, by the way, are seventeen applicants, two Middles, another thirteen dead, and two who were successful. Successful, that is, for the moment."

All five of the men chuckled at that, but the one at the head of the table was too busy finishing the figures and gathering up sets of papers to do the same. By appearances he neither approved nor disapproved of the banter, and when he'd put everything in order he looked up again.

"So much for the substantive part of your reports," he said, glancing around. "Now I will ask you for the final time: has any of you seen
anything
that might match one of the Prophecies? It won't necessarily be anything overt, remember, as some of the verses refer to happenings that are quite subtle. The more obvious signs will come 'out of the sight of the Five's enemies,' which at this point would be us. Is there anything to report?"

"My report is that there's nothing at all to report," the man representing Water magic replied calmly but confidently. "I've been watching carefully, and none of the applicants seemed especially heroic. Some, in fact, appear to have personal flaws which will see them quickly eliminated. No one has asked this before, so allow me to put the question which is surely in all our minds: Is this matter of the Prophecies something that should concern us to this great a degree? I know of no one who actually believes that the infamous Four will return, or that it will take a special Blending to defeat them. These are children's stories, and it's almost inconceivable that anyone in authority can take them seriously."

"These . . . children's stories, as you put it, have come true more often than you know," the man at the head of the table answered bleakly, apparently unsurprised by his underlings' skepticism. "It has been the firm policy of our superiors and their predecessors to claim otherwise, to weaken the belief of the populace in the Prophecies. But we ourselves know better, and you had better know the same. When various Blendings compete for the Throne in a short while, the special Blending mentioned in the Prophecies is supposed to be among them—and even more, is supposed to win."

"Then they must be among the talents who will form Blendings from those applicants who are nobly born," the man representing Air magic offered in a calm and reasonable tone. "They're excused from going through this same nonsense required of commoners, so what would be more logical?
And since it will be one of
their
Blendings which will win as always, that fits as well."

"Are you all
deliberately
missing the point?" the man at the head of the table demanded irritably, for the first time showing more than equanimity when the other four murmured their agreement with Air. "Of
course
noble Blendings have won the Throne for the last seventy-five years or more. No other outcome has been allowed. This time, however, is not meant to be the same, for it's
the time spoken
of
in the Prophecies!
Is none of you able to take that in? The Prophecies are not to be
dismissed,
they're to be worried about!"

The other men sat back with raised brows over the outburst, not quite daring to exchange glances among themselves. Their superior was obviously not joking, which made the entire situation extremely bizarre.

"
But.
. . that makes for greater confusion rather than less," the representative of Fire said at last, speaking slowly. "If the Prophecies do come true after all, then somehow the infamous Four will return to take over. They turned everyone into virtual slaves before they were defeated by the first Fivefold Blending, and if they return and regain their position, they'll do the same again. With that in mind, why are we searching for the Five meant to stop them?
To give them our support?
But that doesn't—"

"Enough!" the man's superior interrupted, slamming his hand down hard on the table. "This is precisely why the matter has been kept from the populace, to avoid their jumping to such emotional and illogical conclusions! And you of all people should know better than to interpret
all
the Prophecies so literally. They've been correct in predicting some sort of crisis during the twenty-five year reign of each Blending, but what about the rest of it? The Prophecies claim that any Blending not seated in 'full fairness' will fail to survive and find victory on the 'blackest of days,' but has that happened? Hasn't every crisis been successfully met during the last century?"

This time the five did exchange glances, for their superior was correct. The contest to seat a new Blending had been carefully controlled every twenty-five years for the last century, and none of the seated Five had had any difficulty with their "crisis." That was what made the populace believe the contests
were
fair, the lowborn fools. What they didn't know let their betters live the lives they were born to and meant for.

"Forgive my momentary naivete," Fire said after a moment, his expression rueful. "Emotionalism is a heady wine, and I clearly drank too deeply. May I ask, sir, what the true state of affairs is? Explanations will aid our ability to assist in the matter."

"Yes, I suppose they will," his superior grudged sourly, now sitting back. "Although each of you is the Seated High in your respective aspects, you've been given little or nothing of the details. That was because you worked with the applicants who came here to unseat you, and the Advisors to the Five had no wish to distract you from so important a task. Knowing in advance the weaknesses and bad habits of your opponents will let you defeat them during the challenges, an outcome we all wish to see."