Convergence (62 page)

"Clarion, who
is
this person?" she demanded, looking daggers at Jowi. "Tell her to remove her hand from your arm at once, and to apologize to me immediately! Even though you stand about while I'm being abused, I refuse to accept such treatment from a commoner!"

"Is she a commoner because she won't let you get away with treating a grown man like a half-wit boy?" another voice put in, and then Tamrissa stood beside him to his right. "And if you think
she
abused you, that's only because you haven't dealt with
me
yet. I never thought I'd meet anyone worse than my own mother, but you've surpassed her.
To come bursting in here and embarrass your son nearly to death, and then to claim to
love
him?
It's yourself that you love, and at least my mother never made any attempt to deny that."

"How dare you!" Mother whispered in a fury, her skin going pale and then red and then pale again. "Have you absolutely no idea who I am, that you would dare to even
think
such things in my presence? Clarion, fetch your possessions at once! You're leaving with me this instant!"

"You seem to have difficulty with your hearing," Jowi said, causing Mother's head—and glare—to snap around in her direction. "His name is now Rion, not something designed to make everyone snicker at him behind their hands. It did the job of keeping him completely under your thumb because he had no one else to turn to, but now he's finally broken free of you. Why don't you accept that gracefully instead of trying to make a scene?"

"And you can forget about his going with you," Tamrissa added as Mother's face turned an even deeper red. "The law insists that he stay right here, and I'd guess that you've lost to the law once already. If you hadn't, he never would have come here in the first place. If you had even the least amount of ordinary manners I'd invite you to join us for a while, but as you were so obviously raised in a barn, you can flounce out just the way you came in."

"Ohhh!"
Mother exclaimed, obviously completely mortified. No one had ever dared to say such things to her
before,
although Clarion had sometimes had the impression her "friends" would have enjoyed doing exactly that. Her social position was such that no one could afford to offend her by failing to invite her to a party or gathering, but many of them had seemed to wish they could.

"Clarion, I insist that you say something!" Mother ordered in a strangled voice, so livid that it was a wonder she didn't burst. "Tell these harlots that you haven't a copper of your own, and then let me hear that you mean to accompany me! I refuse to stay in this disgusting place one moment longer than necessary!"

Rion had been feeling painful guilt over what Jowi and Tamrissa had said to the mother he'd been so close to for so long, but her last speech changed that. Suggesting that the only reason the two women had defended him was because they thought he had money hurt, the sort of pain she'd always given unthinkingly. For her he was only there to jump to her beck and call; he wasn't someone she truly cared about, and it was time he admitted that to himself.

"My name is now Rion, Mother, and you'd do well to remember that," he said after a short hesitation, his tone as firm as he was able to make it. "It was vile of you to suggest that these ladies came to my aid only because they had hopes of being paid, but this is hardly the first time you've been vile to me. With that in view, you'd better do as they said and go."

Disbelieving fury flashed briefly in her light eyes, and then her entire demeanor changed in the way she was so good at accomplishing.

"Oh, my poor darling, they've gotten you all confused, haven't they?" she whispered, tears now glinting in those eyes. "They've deliberately poisoned your mind against me, the tragedy I've always tried to protect you from. But please don't fret, I understand that it isn't your fault, and there's no question but that I forgive you. And you needn't worry that I'll abandon you while you remain in their clutches. I'm not without influence in this empire, and my letter may have been ignored but my person won't be. I'll free you, dear, and then we'll be back together again forever."

Rion felt a chill grip him at that, but he stood silently while Mother came close to kiss his cheek,
then
watched as she turned and left. Tamrissa stepped to the door as the servant hurried in Mother's wake, and after a moment Tamrissa closed the library door and turned back to them.

"She's gone, thank goodness," Tamrissa
announced,
one hand to her middle. "She makes my insides turn over, and I don't know how I managed to speak to her like that. As soon as she was out of here she stopped floating and started stalking, and Eskin Drowd was nearly run down. You were very brave to stand up for yourself, Rion, but at least it's over with now."

"Unfortunately, it's not," Rion disagreed after emptying his brandy glass in a single gulp. "I've seen her like that before, and she's only just begun. She'll start to visit everyone she can think of, and eventually they'll get so tired of her nagging that they'll give her anything she wants just to get rid of her. I used to admire that behavior, but now it's my life she's after.
..."

A life he'd only just begun to live. The idea of being dragged back to the terrible isolation and unhappiness he'd been chained to before was enough to make him weep, right then and there in front of them all. He had no doubt that they would understand and sympathize, but he couldn't bear to give them what would also be an unconscionable embarrassment.

"I think you'd do well to remember that you're not a child any more, Mardimil," Ro said, breaking a silence that had grown almost awkward. "She can rant and rave as much as she likes, but she can't
force
you to go back to her. As long as you say no and stick to it, there's nothin' she can do."

"And the testing authority isn't about to just let her walk you away," Coll pointed out, obviously trying to change the atmosphere from depressed to enthusiastic. "We're right in the middle of things, remember, and if you qualify for the competition they certainly won't let you leave. But what we speculated about hasn't changed, so maybe you would be better off if she—"

"No!" Rion interrupted harshly,
then
held up a hand in apology. "No, I would
not
be better off even if we were certain about what lies ahead. I would rather be dead than return to what was, so I have to thank each and every one of you for the help you've given me. But now, if you don't mind, I believe it's time for me to retire."

No one tried to dissuade him, but Tamrissa patted his arm and Jowi kissed his cheek before they allowed him to leave.

The hall was empty and he crossed it quickly, taking the stairs two at a time to let him reach his room sooner. For some reason he abruptly remembered his original intention to complain about that room, a place that had grown more welcoming than his apartments in Mother's various houses had ever been. How could he have seen it as stiflingly small rather than cozy, garish rather than lively, inferior rather than wonderfully warm . . . ?

Even as his mind asked those questions, the answer became obvious. He'd thought those things because he'd still been looking at the world through Mother's eyes, the only way he'd ever been permitted to look at anything. It wasn't possible to consider going back to that, to consider giving up the small amount of progress he'd made toward becoming a real person. If any of Mother's "friends" tried to insist, he'd have to remind them that he was just as noble as she was . . .

Yes, that was it. Rion smiled where he'd stopped in the middle of the room, and then began to get undressed. He'd forgotten briefly that he
was
a noble, and no one forced nobles to do anything they didn't care to. He'd make certain he qualified for that competition thing, and then he'd remind anyone who became involved that he was no commoner to be told where to go and how to live. Yes, that would work—

—hopefully against any and all trouble that Mother would certainly manage to generate. . . .

THIRTY-FOUR

Valiant actually found it a relief to reach the sessions building on this second morning.
After what he'd gone through yesterday—and undoubtedly would again today— he should have felt anything
but
relief, and yet that wasn't so.
He'd spent so much of last night and all of this morning's drive thinking about Tamrissa, that anything pulling him away from his thoughts had to be considered a good thing.

Holter, Coll, and Drowd were in the coach with him again, and the first coach also carried its original complement. Apparently everyone had decided to start as early as they had
yesterday,
and that no matter what level they'd achieved. Valiant wanted the torture over and behind him as quickly as possible, but others, like Drowd, needed the extra practice time. The man looked positively grim this morning, and if stares could have killed, Coll would have been an unmoving body on the ground.

This time, with the sun shining brightly, the coach stopped at the front of the building. Drowd was out as soon as all motion had ceased, and Coll wasn't far behind him. Valiant waited until Holter stepped down before getting out himself, but he couldn't keep from pausing at the top of the steps. The others had already gone inside, all of them including Coll . . .

And that brought it all back, the breast-beating he'd done ever since he'd seen Tamrissa and Coll the night before, laughing as they came out of the library together. That could have been caused by almost anything, but then he'd noticed during the meal that they called each other by their given names. Apparently Coll had moved ahead while Valiant had hesitated and wasted time, and now Valiant's opportunity with Tamrissa was lost for good.

But he'd spent the entire ride thinking, and now it was time to decide that he
hadn't
lost out. It wasn't like him to simply give up without a fight, but this being stuffed into tiny, airless spaces was playing havoc with his usual self-confidence. He
had
to take care of that first, but as soon as he got back to the residence he intended to go looking for Tamrissa. He'd find out if he really had no chance with her, and if that
didn't
happen to be the case. . . .

Having made up his mind brought Valiant almost to the point of whistling, but he wasn't quite that confident about going back into the session room. He
was
able to square his shoulders and enter the building as if doing it were easy, and actually crossed the floor without hesitation. The hesitation appeared when it came time to walk into the room itself, but Valiant forced himself to bear in mind that the sooner he got to it, the sooner it would be over. Swallowing from a dry mouth proved rather difficult, but remembering that no one would be between him and the door finally let him go inside.

The same Adept was there, and the man smiled coldly before leading Valiant to a cubicle only a few steps from the door. Holter was already inside the one opposite, his four strands of water already beginning to form. Valiant had to clench his teeth and his fists before he was able to enter the cubicle, but thinking about forming those four strands before trying five let him do it. It wasn't actually necessary for him to start with four strands again, not when he already knew how much power was needed to control them, but it would give him a chance to get the same control over himself before going on.

Valiant noticed vaguely that the lamplight was softer and the chair much more comfortable in this new cubicle, two benefits that made very little difference to his state of mind. What he had to concentrate on was forming strands of water and then weaving them together, three patterns each for the four and five strands. He'd gotten all three patterns for the four strands, but went through them again anyway to see if he'd forgotten anything important.

But not only hadn't he forgotten anything, forming the patterns was so easy it was as though he'd done it all his life. Valiant frowned at that, not understanding why it had happened. It was true that he'd found using his talent easy over the years, but he'd never needed to do anything this complex. Maybe weaving five strands would prove more of a strain, the same strain he could feel in the stranger who wove water to his right.

Valiant opened himself to more of the power than he'd ever tried to control before, the silent roaring of its arrival echoing in his head. He, also experienced a surge of strength and vitality, making him feel like a seven-foot giant of good health, but that feeling couldn't be relied on, he'd learned. The more power you took in the faster it drained your physical
strength,
and that no matter how good you felt before you fell over from exhaustion. The best thing to do was to get on with it, do what was necessary—and then get out.