The Talented (23 page)

Ben shook his head.
“You’re moving too fast,” he told her.

Adrienne leaned forward in
the chair, resting her forearms on her thighs. “Ben, this is a good
thing,” she told him, her eyes burning with intensity. “I’m ready
for the next step in my training.”

“
It’s not a good thing,”
Ben said with a shake of his head. “You’ve been here less than two
months. You will remain at this stage of your training for at least
another month,” he said with finality.

“
Why?”

“
The rest of the commission
thinks it best to slow your progress. You are learning so fast that
some of the other commissioners are concerned that you are missing
parts of your training.” Ben gave her what was meant to be a
placating smile, but she was still in a state of Oneness and could
sense the insincerity behind it. “Perhaps in a few more weeks we
can work on progressing to the next stage.”

Adrienne’s temper
threatened to snap, and she worked hard to modulate her tone.
“Commissioners that I haven’t even worked with want to slow my
training? Why? If I’m ready then I should be able to move on. It’s
pointless to hold me back.”

Ben laughed, but it was a
frustrated sound coming from the normally congenial young man. “The
commission is worried about not being able to control you,” he
said, not bothering to soften the harsh reality. “Having a soldier
here is bad enough. The whole city is on edge thanks to your
presence, and now you are influencing others with abilities. That
sword you wear like a badge, the experiments you’re doing with that
healer, how do you think that reflects on the commission?” His
hands had balled into fists on top of the desk, and Adrienne
wondered if he was aware of the anger seeping into him, or if he
was ignorant of his own darker emotions. Did he realize that his
fists betrayed an inner call to violence not so different from her
own?

“
I would have expected a
scholar to appreciate experiments and serious study, and a
commissioner to appreciate people coming together and working
cooperatively,” Adrienne said coolly.

“
Not when it involves
cutting yourself, or promoting violence.” Ben’s voice was pure
disgust, and Adrienne realized that not everything he was saying
had come down from the commission. The commission might have told
him these things, but he was in agreement with them.

“
I do not promote
violence,” Adrienne struggled to keep her voice level as she spoke.
“Who has been telling the commission these lies?”

Ben shot her a hard look.
“That is none of your concern.”

Adrienne didn’t need to be
told it was Maureen, just as she did not need to ask why he and the
commission were opposed to her new sword. The commissioners may
have wanted a way to stop the war, but they were against anything
that might actually help to fight it. Adrienne could hardly
reconcile the fact that the commission could hold such conflicting
views with equal strength and conviction, but they did so with
fervor.

“
So what is the plan now?
You’ll keep me where I am until the commission…what? Decides that
the appropriate amount of time has passed?” She had held her
trainees back because she had known they weren’t ready to advance,
that their bodies were not yet adapted for greater physical
challenges, or that they did not yet know enough of the basics to
move on. She had never held anyone back based on some preconceived
timeline. She had spent four months training Jeral to use his body
as a weapon, but some of the Yearlings had been ready to move on
only a month after beginning their tutelage. And she had let
them.

Training—effective
training—had to be adapted to the individual, not uniformly
applied.

“
You will stay where you
are in your training until the commission deems it safe for you to
develop an ability,” Ben said.

“
I’m not dangerous!”
Adrienne slammed the flat of her hands down on his desk. The candle
flames shuddered at the impact, then shot up a foot in the air,
burning a bright, angry red. Ben pushed away from his desk so hard
that his chair toppled backward, leaving him sprawled on the
floor.

“
H-how did you do that?” he
stammered, pushing himself to his feet with shaking hands. The
color had leached from his face until it was a sickly
gray.

“
I don’t know,” Adrienne
said, staring at the candle flames that were now back to their
normal size and color, as surprised as Ben by what had happened.
Then the realization of what she had done sank in and she let out a
whoop of excitement. “I guess I don’t need your help moving on to
the next stage after all,” she told him with a triumphant
grin.

“
This isn’t possible,” Ben
said, his voice shaky. He raised a hand to his face and wiped it.
“It must have been a-a fluke. A trick of the light.” He swallowed.
It had definitely been the light that had changed, but they both
knew it had not been a fluke or a trick. Candle flames did not
behave that way.

Adrienne stared at the
nearest candle. She was still in a state of Oneness, and through
that connection with the universe she could feel everything around
her. But the flame had a different quality to it. It felt…tangible.
As if she could reach out and touch it with her mind.

The flame leapt up in
response to her mental touch.

“
I don’t think it’s a
fluke,” she told Ben, playing with the flame, causing it to dance
and shoot up sparks.

“
The Creator preserve us,”
Ben said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“
Isn’t this what you
wanted?” Adrienne asked. As new as her Talent was, its potential
uses were immediately apparent. A lifetime as a soldier made
assessing any skill second nature, and the possibilities here
seemed endless. “Didn’t you want someone with powers that can be
used against Almet?”

“
The commission wanted you
to wait,” Ben said, and she could see the struggle between pride
and worry on his face. “They didn’t want a dangerous rogue running
loose in the city.”

She stopped playing with
the fire and regarded Ben seriously. “I’m not rogue,” Adrienne said
with a false calm. “I’ve done everything you asked of me, worked to
meet every request you’ve made of me, for the past two
months.”

Ben ran his hands through
his hair, then tugged lightly on the tight curls as she had seen
him do before when frustrated or troubled by one of his books. When
Ben finally dropped his hands, his eyes were cold and flat as
though a barrier had gone up between them. “What do you call this,
what you just did, if not going rogue?” he asked, gesturing toward
the candle.

“
I didn’t know that would
happen,” Adrienne said, trying to force some apology into her voice
despite the fact that she felt no remorse for what she’d done.
Discovering her Talent was too wonderful a thing to apologize for.
“It was an accident. I would have waited and done what you told
me.” Adrienne wondered if that last was true.

She hoped it
was.

Her life had been built
around rules and following the chain of command. She had been
conditioned to obey her superiors from a very young age, and if
that had changed in only two short months, she didn’t know what
would become of her. Who would she be, if not a soldier? Who would
she be, if she could no longer follow command?

Then again, before coming
to Kessering, her superiors had by and large made decisions she had
agreed with. Decisions that were unprejudiced and served to meet
the desired goal. Even commands she had not liked had usually had a
solid reason behind them, and Adrienne had followed her leaders
because she had trusted them and their judgment. She trusted
Captain Garrett with her life.

She did not have the same
trust in Ben and the other members of the commission. She knew
their fear of soldiers was illogical and that they had a strong and
unreasonable prejudice against her that clouded their judgments.
She didn’t trust them, and she didn’t know if she would have
listened to Ben, or if she would have tried to progress on her own.
It scared her not to know.

“
It’s too late for that
now,” Ben muttered. “I must tell Elder Rynn immediately. The
commission must meet and discuss what has happened.”

“
Would you like me to come
with you or wait for you here?” Adrienne asked as respectfully as
she could manage. Angry or not, she wouldn’t make him go alone. She
had done this.

“
Neither,” Ben told her
roughly. “Go back to the inn. Speak to no one of this until I tell
you otherwise.”

“
Of course.” Adrienne left
the room and headed back to the inn to wait for word from the
commission.

She didn’t know how long
they would be, or what they might decide. She sat on her bed,
tempted by every flicker of candlelight or lick of flame in the
hearth. She wanted to attain Oneness, to reach out and touch the
fire. She had never felt desire like the desire she felt to use her
Talent again. But the commission would not approve, and she was
determined to follow their orders. She was a soldier, and she would
do as she was told. She would not lose herself.

So she resisted the urge
to try out her Talent, and waited for the commission’s
decision.

••••••

It was three days before a
boy came to the inn with a message for Adrienne to report
immediately to the commission. She had not gone farther than the
stable since Ben had sent her away, and she had refused visits from
both Louella and Pieter. She knew her friends were confused and
worried, but she was determined to follow Ben’s orders.

She was a soldier, not an
undisciplined civilian.

And now it was time to
meet her fate.

The clerk, who typically
let Adrienne have free reign of the library, left his station by
the door to show her where the commission was waiting, as though
she was too dangerous to leave unattended in the halls. He did not
speak to her, and Adrienne did not try to start a conversation,
preferring to think ahead to what the commission might be planning
for her in response to what she had done. She understood that
breaking that chain had to come with consequences, even if she had
not meant to go against the commission’s wishes. It was the only
way to maintain order.

When she entered the room,
she saw the commission sitting behind the same table, in the same
order, as they had been the last time she had seen them. Their
expressions were grim.

Elder Rynn sat in the
center, with Lady Chessing and Franklin on either side of him.
Franklin was wearing a virulent green coat today in place of the
mustard yellow, and Adrienne wondered inanely if all of his
clothing was so obscenely colored. Ben was located at the end of
the table, and Adrienne wondered how much trouble he was in. Maybe
none. Perhaps all the blame had been placed solely on
her.

She would not be surprised
if they blamed a soldier instead of one of their own, despite the
fact that the incident was faultless. She had not meant to disobey
Ben or the commission; she had discovered her Talent quite by
accident.

“
Adrienne,” Elder Rynn
said, his dry voice filled with his displeasure. “I was wondering
if you would come.”

Adrienne stiffened at the
perceived insult. “Of course I came,” she said, wishing he did not
address her by their first name. Soldiers were often an irreverent
lot, but she was a lieutenant and this was a formal setting. She
wanted the respect due someone of her rank.

“
Due to recent events, it
has come to light that you do not always follow instruction,” Elder
Rynn said. “Master Ruthford did not give you permission to progress
in your training, yet you still saw fit to do so. Why should we
expect you to listen today?”

Adrienne looked briefly at
Ben and caught the slight shake of his head before turning her
attention back to Elder Rynn and answering. “He did not give me
permission, no, but neither did I intentionally disobey him or go
against the commission’s wishes. It was by accident that I happened
to develop an ability at that time.”

Lady Chessing’s smile was
reminiscent of a cat anticipating a dish of cream as she leaned
forward over the table. “He says that you argued with him about
delaying your progress,” she said.

“
I did,” Adrienne said,
since there was no point denying it. “I did not understand why the
commission would want to hold me back. I got angry.”

“
And in your anger you
lashed out with fire,” Lady Chessing said, bosom heaving, face
alight with pleasure. Some of the other commissioners looked
pleased, too, and Adrienne realized that, far from looking for the
truth and a good solution to what they saw as a problem, they were
hoping to prove that she was dangerous. They wanted an excuse to
stop her training.

Adrienne had not realized
their dislike of her ran so deep, or that they could be so
short-sighted as to want to stop her training at the moment she
developed a Talent that could be of use.

“
I did get angry, but I did
not lash out,” Adrienne told her and the rest of the commission. “I
didn’t know at the time that I had any control of fire. Had I meant
to ‘lash out’ at Master Ruthford, the action would have been
physical in nature, I assure you.” Her voice was cool and
dangerous, and Lady Chessing sat back in her chair as though
Adrienne’s words had been a threat against the noblewoman’s
person.