Convergence (54 page)

It was quite some time before food was brought to my group, and predictably enough I was the third to be served. Beldara luxuriated in that fact, all but preening herself and laughing aloud. Such spoiled-child behavior really irritated me, and I couldn't wait until the session started again.

Which didn't take long.
When you're served last you have only a short time to eat, and I wasn't quite through when Adept Forum appeared to order us back to the room. I knew I should have anticipated that, so I was more annoyed with myself than with the testing authority when I reclaimed that awful chair in my cubicle. If I wanted to be free of harassment, I'd have to use ability to achieve it.

Which was not quite as easily done as decided. I opened myself to the power, formed two ropes of fire and coiled them about each other, then separated them again. That was to show I could do again what I'd done earlier, and was also something of a warm-up for my confidence. I
wanted
to handle three strands, but a lifetime of being doubted makes you sometimes think your critics might be right.

So I had to prove they weren't. Merging the two original strands and then separating them into three strands wasn't hard, but that was just the beginning. I had to open myself to more of the power to keep control of the three, and then had to concentrate on moving the strands while keeping them from merging back into a single pillar again. Fire must spread to live, and unifying with other parts of itself lets it spread more completely. I was in the midst of denying the very nature of fire, not an easy battle under any circumstance.

By the time I had a simple plait formed, the sweat on my forehead had begun to thicken. But I did have three strands of fire braided together, and only one of the others around me, a heavy man, had done the same. Beldara couldn't seem to keep two of her three strands from merging when she tried to weave them together, and the last three men couldn't seem to produce three strands. One of them was still having trouble handling two, and seemed about as far from achieving a coil as he'd been that morning. I wondered about that . . .

. . .
and
after a moment had a fairly good guess. The man's face was as covered with sweat as my own, but it was the sweat of fear rather than of effort. He seemed to be afraid to open himself to enough of the power to get the job done, a handicap I'd heard about once. It usually affected those who'd seen someone burn themselves out trying to accommodate more power than they could handle, and getting past the problem took more determination than most people had. Happily, though, that was something I didn't have to worry about; I'll take being burned out over being married off again any time.

Most of the afternoon had gone by while I fought with the three strands, and the woman and two men who had arrived last had already left. But Adept Forum hadn't come by to release us, so I started all over again with the three strands. Doing it a second time proved easier, and by then Beldara had tamed her three strands and had plaited them half way. She'd also sweated with the effort, but the heavy man who'd managed his plait along with my first sat cool and serene. He hadn't tried it a second time, only maintained his first effort, and maintaining is a good deal easier than doing.

Just a few minutes later Adept Forum came through with a placard that said the session was over, so I let the strands go with a lot of relief. The more power you use the more your strength is drained, and the less strength you have, the less power you can handle. Exercising
an ability
is like someone without Air magic walking a tightrope: one miscalculation can send you falling through empty air, to end broken and dead on the very hard ground below. You tend not to think of that when you're well-rested, but when you're tired. . . .

Adept Forum gathered us in the area near the doors again, then looked around and said, "You will all be here tomorrow morning at the same time, to practice the same exercise. For those of you who have been at it quite a while, let me remind you that this week is your last chance. If you haven't qualified by week's end, you never will."

The exhausted-looking man who hadn't even managed to coil his strands paled even more, but he didn't say anything. Two of the other men showed determined expressions, but the last of them was very upset.

"How can you do that?" he demanded in an unsteady voice. "I'm just about out of silver, and if I can't compete for gold I'll starve! You have to give me more time!"

"More time is not mine to give," Adept Forum returned, the sympathy in his voice so exaggerated that there wasn't a chance of its being real. "The Trials will soon be upon us, and everyone's efforts will be going into that. There will
be
no more sessions, no more residence for those who haven't
qualified,
no more chances of any sort. You have until week's end, and that's all there is to it."

The man who'd protested seemed about to cry, but he didn't say anything else. Adept Forum waited to be certain of that, and then he looked at me.

"You, my dear, may ignore what I said to the others," he purred, now more sleek and ingratiating than sarcastic. "If you wish, you may report here an hour later than these others, and you'll no longer be seated among them. Achievement earns many rewards, and your work with three strands has earned you those."

"Why just her?" the heavy man who'd formed his plait along with mine demanded, his round, fleshy face no longer cool and calm. "I did the same thing she did, and at almost the same time!"

"You did indeed," Adept Forum granted, looking the heavy man up and down. "But after that accomplishment you simply basked in its light, making no effort to repeat the performance and gain greater facility. You're like the rest of those left here, content to be just a little better than those around you, and you'll certainly join them in being left behind. This lovely young lady will forge ahead to the competitions, and the rest of you will be obscured by her glow.
You
are now dismissed."

He turned then and walked away to the left, leaving me with the urge to commit physical mayhem. He'd singled me out deliberately as an object of hatred for the others, someone they would now want to best at any cost. He obviously hoped to provoke them into making more of an effort, and the glares they sent toward me before stalking out said they meant to try. But even if they succeeded they would still hate me, and if they didn't. . . .

I stretched my back gingerly as I followed them, forcing away consideration of possible spiteful retaliatory actions in order to think about what was really more important. What we hadn't been told earlier was that these would be
practice
sessions, and that after this week there would be no more of them. Those who had passed the initial test months ago would have had all this time to practice for the Trials, but all we would have was this single week. If I'd thought the testing authority had any sense of decency and fairness, this latest fact would have quickly changed my mind.

There appeared to be less than twenty people left in the large building, but the others were all heading for the front doors rather than the side one I'd come in by, so I did the same. It would be nice if it had stopped raining, but it would be nicer yet if I could rid myself of the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Adept Forum had said the people left in my session were those who would never qualify, and they'd obviously been trying for a good deal longer than a week. What if I turned out to be just like them, and couldn't qualify either? What would become of me then?

I discovered I'd stopped in the middle of the floor, one hand to my middle to hold back the sickness, so I hurried on toward the doors. I needed very badly to be home, to help me come to grips with the stark truth: in less than a week and in one way or another, my future would be settled forever.

TWENTY-NINE

The new Rion Mardimil thought he would take the opportunity of being in the same carriage with Jowi to speak to her, but once they were all settled in place he changed his mind. What he most wanted to say to her would be awkward in front of two other women, especially when one of them was Tamrissa Domon. She attracted Rion almost as much as Jowi did, but in a slightly different way. He wasn't certain why that was, but for the moment was unprepared to delve into the question. To go literally overnight from being all but unaware of women to pursuing two of them would have been far too much.

So Rion endured the silent carriage ride, accompanied the ladies into the building they were brought to,
then
went in the direction of the banner with the symbol of Air magic on it. The door beyond the banner led into an odd sort of room, large but separated into individual cubicles, all to the left and right of the area just inside the door. In that area stood two women and a man, and a moment after Rion joined them another woman, without the identification the rest of them wore, appeared from the left. "Now that our newest addition has arrived, you may all take your cubicles," the woman
said,
her tone and manner almost as haughty as that of Lady Eltrina, the testing authority representative. "Go and begin your practice, and I'll see to him individually."

The others nodded and obediently moved off toward the right, making Rion frown. He was the only newcomer, and all the others were ahead of him? The thought of that was an uncomfortable one, but he wasn't given time to consider the point.

"I'm Adept Aminto, in charge of applicants in Air magic," the woman said almost immediately, her pretty face still showing disapproval. "You'd best be courteous to those who wear white ascots like mine, as they are also adepts in our aspect. I'll show you to a cubicle now and demonstrate what must be done, and then leave you to it."

"Just a moment," Rion said, stopping her before she might turn away. "I have one small matter I'd like to see to before we begin. This identification card which was given me has an error which must be corrected. My given name is Rion, not Clarion, so your records and the card have to be changed."

"Oh, bother," the woman grumbled, stepping closer to peer at the card hanging against his chest. "How did they manage to do
that?
Well, no matter, I'll simply have to deal with it later. For now, just follow me."

This time Rion made no effort to stop her, but merely followed as she'd directed. She moved up the hall to the right in the same direction the others had taken, hesitated when she'd nearly reached the end, then went on to enter the cubicle next to one of the women and opposite the man. Her manner seemed to be reluctant now, and when she turned to look at Rion she appeared apologetic.

"I'm sorry, but I really do have to put you in here today," she said, confirming Rion's impression. "You'll find the chair horrible to sit in, but as soon as you've mastered at least two of the basic exercises I'll be able to move you to a better cubicle."

"You're certain then that I'll master them," Rion said, trying not to show his surprise and confusion. "Since we've never met before, what makes you so certain?"

"How could anyone look at you and have any doubt?" she answered at once, then blushed and seemed ready to bite her tongue. "I mean, you do appear extremely competent. . . . Please sit down, and I'll demonstrate the first exercise."

Rion went to the wooden chair and sat, finding it just as uncomfortable as she'd said it would be. But he was too amused to be bothered, as he'd figured out why Adept Aminto had said what she had. The woman was attracted to him, he could feel it in each of her movements and words, and that was something which had never happened to him before. It made him feel odd, but definitely good-odd.

"The manipulation of air is too difficult to see, so we've provided these ribbons to make the exercises more visual," Aminto said as soon as Rion was settled, picking up two silk ribbons of different colors from a small table which held five ribbons. "What you'll do is surround them with columns— thin columns—of thickened air, and then you'll coil them about each other. But make sure the columns remain separate, otherwise the ribbons will show that they've merged."

As she spoke she used the power to do as she'd described, coiling the two colorful ribbons around as though they twined up an invisible pole. But then the ribbons suddenly rushed toward one another, and stuck together as though glued.

"You see?" she asked, glancing at Rion. "Only by maintaining two separate columns will you be able to keep the ribbons apart. Would you like to try it now?"

"In a moment," Rion said, suspecting he would have little trouble performing the trick. "Tell me first why these others seem to have failed at so simple a task. Haven't they been here for a while after having passed the initial test?"

"Yes, of course they passed the test, and they
have
been here for a time, but—" Aminto paused, as though searching for the proper words, but then she shrugged. "They did what they had to in order to save their lives, but beyond that they're useless," she stated bluntly. "They're the
sort who have
to be pushed into doing anything at all, because for one reason or another they can't turn their potential into reality by themselves. They're losers and will stay losers, because they refuse to take charge of their own lives."