Betrayals Read online

  Questions of that sort kept me pacing back and forth across the room for a while. At one point, when I passed a Full-length mirror in a dark wood, intricately carved, frame, I noticed something else. I no longer wore the white robe we'd all had on for the competitions. Instead I wore a beau­tiful, obviously expensive dress of rose and gold which seemed to match the room. I had no memory of having put on that dress, so someone else must have put me in it. An­other thing to add to the list causing agitation....

  I had just reached the vicinity of my chair again when I heard a sound at the door. Someone seemed to be unlocking it, and it came to me that I hadn't even tried that door. Obviously it had been locked, but what if it hadn't been? It made me ill to realize that I seemed to be in the midst of meekly accepting what had been done ... and what would be done ... Then the door opened, and my illness increased.

  "Good morning, child," that noble said, smiling as he entered and closed the door behind him. He also examined me with his eyes as he walked closer, but happily he stopped more than five feet away.

  "You needn't look so stricken," he said with amusement as my heart thudded painfully hard. "I've merely stopped in to say that business matters demand my time, and therefore I won't be returning until almost dinnertime. I'll see you then, of course, as I mean to keep my promise. You will share the amusement I've arranged, and then you will be permitted to thank me for the privilege."

  "What amusement?" I forced myself to ask, again hating the way my voice trembled. "And if you're waiting for me to thank you for anything at all, you can expect to have a very long wait ahead of you."

  "A show of spirit? How delightful." His chuckle did seem delighted, as though we were playing some sort of game. "In another woman that show would be quite unac­ceptable, but in you I find it rather enchanting. As for the amusement, I refer to the dinner entertainment I've arranged which will revolve about your father. He means to come here tonight to demand your return, obviously mistaking me for one of the peasants like himself whom he's accustomed to dealing with. I mean to teach him better."

  "But of course he's just like you," I said, the words popping out before I could stop them. "The two of you could be twins, aside from whatever meaningless title you have. And your title is meaningless, since you let it be given to you rather than insisting on working to earn it. They made you less than a whole man, and you allowed it."

  "The delight has suddenly gone out of your conversa­tion," he grated in return, his expression having turned hard with anger glittering behind his gaze. "With that in mind, I tell you now that you're never to speak to me in such a way again. You, of course, will obey, as you've been given no choice in the matter. Just as you will never exercise your talent again."

  "What are you talking about?" I asked in a whisper, a terrible chill suddenly clutching at my insides. "You can't keep me from using my talent, no one can...."

  "I imagine that you're now in the process of reaching for the power, and are discovering that touching it is quite im­possible," he replied, vindictive satisfaction appearing in his dark eyes. "Denying you whatever might be left of your talent was the first thing I did after the Puredan was given you, and commanding obedience was the second. You will learn just how obedient you must be tonight after dinner, when I take full pleasure from you. And now I really must go"

  He performed a small, sardonic bow before turning and heading for the door, but I barely noticed. I stood in deep shock with my fists to my head, trying frantically to reach to the power just as I'd done all my life. The action was as natural as walking or speaking, and it felt as though I were paralyzed or struck mute! Not only couldn't I reach the power, it wasn't even possible to locate it!

  I stumbled to the chair I'd returned to awareness in, col­lapsing into it as the sound of the door being locked again came as though from a great distance off. Heavy shock had wrapped me in numbness, so that even knowing I'd already been given the Puredan became no more than a secondary consideration. I'd been cut off completely from my talent, and would never be allowed to exercise it again.

  That was the time I learned just how deeply into depres­sion it was possible to fall, which was the point where the desire to die outweighed the urge to live. The monster who held me captive meant to keep me as a pitiful cripple, unable to deny his least whim and wish, unable to defend myself against his depraved intentions. To someone else, the matter stated in such a way might have seemed melodramatic; to me, it seemed the end of the world.

  I sat unmoving in the chair for a timeless time, my mind almost empty of thought, and then there was sound at the door again. A moment later it opened, and two women en­tered. The younger was a girl carrying a tray with covered dishes and a tea pitcher, and the elder seemed a higher-level servant. I paid very little attention to the pair as the girl set down the tray on a table and left again, but the elder woman apparently disliked my extreme distraction.

  "That tray contains your lunch, which you should be quite hungry for by now," she announced from where she stood, only two paces into the room. "Lord Lanir was quite clear concerning his wish to see you properly nourished, so you will go to the tray and eat. The command, of course, is to be considered his."

  The woman's voice had been harsh with the tone of one used to being obeyed, and I actually stirred a bit in auto­matic response. My parents had certainly trained me well, and the unconscious response seemed to satisfy the woman. She gave a brusque nod and turned to leave, shutting and locking the door behind herself. But by that time I'd fallen back into apathy, so even the stirring quieted. I had no ap­petite, and probably would never have one ever again.

  I sat staring and unmoving for another rather long stretch of time, but then an odd thought crept into my head. That noble, apparently named Lord Lanir, had said I'd already been given the Puredan as well as his orders. If that were so I would have no choice but to obey him, and yet there I sat, having nothing to do with the meal he wanted me to eat. That woman had clearly expected me to obey the sec­ondhand orders, but I hadn't. Could she simply have been mistaken to expect something like that?

  A moment of thought convinced me that her being mis­taken was unlikely. Her noble employer must have told her what to expect, and the miserable man was certainly in a position to know. That meant I should have obeyed, and yet I hadn't. But not obeying orders given you while you're under the influence of Puredan is impossible ...

  "You fool!" I said to myself aloud, suddenly feeling ex­tremely stupid. "When we freed ourselves from the first orders given us under Puredan, didn't we specify that we were never to obey such orders again? None of us knew if the trick would work, but it looks like it did ... !"

  Excitement rose in me so quickly that it probably would have knocked me over if I'd been standing. I'd forgotten all about that business of telling ourselves not to obey, and it made an enormous difference. If one of the man's com­mands hadn't worked, the other shouldn't have worked ei­ther. I wasn't permanently cut off from my talent, even if I hadn't been able to detect the power at all....

  With that thought I'd automatically reached out again, the way someone newly paralyzed probably tried without think­ing to stand and walk. The only difference was that this tune I detected a glimmer of something, a distant hint of the great ocean of power usually right there beyond my mental fin­gertips. The ocean was still there, only not quite as close as it should be and not as easily reached. But that was better than not being able to detect anything....

  Worry sent me up on my feet and pacing again, the darker emotion dimming the excitement I felt. I was now in a much better position than I'd been in earlier, but what had that Lord Lanir said about my talent? Something concerning "whatever ability" I might "have left"? He obviously knew something that I didn't, and it remained to be seen how true his beliefs were.

  After pacing back and forth for a while, I finally decided that I needed a cup of tea. I went to the tray and poured the cup, but didn't so much as glance at whatever food lay under the p
late covers. I might be free of needing to obey the monster who held me in capture, but without my talent I would certainly be helpless to defend myself against him. If a distant touch were all I ever found it possible to accom­plish, I would still prefer to be dead.

  Another stretch of time passed as I paced slowly and sipped tea, and the next change occurred so abruptly that I nearly dropped the teacup. One moment I walked and wor­ried, and the next I was again so firmly touching the power that I staggered dizzily. Before this latest insanity began I hadn't been able to release the power except when I fell asleep, and now I seemed to be back to that exact same state again.

  "So why wasn't I able to reach it sooner?" I asked aloud in a murmur, feeling the strength of personality that being in touch with the power always brought. "And why did that fool think my talent would be less than it was?"

  Asking that second question aloud was indulging in a bit of bravado, as I felt quite clearly that I wasn't completely back to the way I'd been. There was still something of a ... drag, of sorts, slowing down my reactions and limiting my access to the power. That didn't necessarily mean I would remain less than I'd been, but—

  "Oh, for pity's sake," I muttered, beginning to be really disgusted with myself. "That sedative the noble mentioned ... If it was hilsom powder, it's no wonder I'm coming back so slowly."

  I'd beard of hilsom powder, of course, but never having used it myself meant I'd known nothing of the details concerning it until Lorand had explained its main purpose and effects. Hilsom powder was used for the most part by phy­sicians, and not just to sedate certain patients, but also to separate them from the power. Even Low talents can cause a good deal of havoc if they're hysterical, or insane, or even just delirious from a fever. Hilsom powder denies them the use of their talent while they're sedated, and returns their ability slowly over a period of time.

  "So that means all I should have to do is wait," I mur­mured, feeling a good deal better. "Once I've regained every bit of my strength, I'll simply walk out of here. Any­one who tries to stop me will find out the hard way why Fire is the guardian talent in a Blending—"

  My words broke off rather abruptly, the silence caused by a sudden, deeper understanding of what I faced. Once I left that house, I not only had nowhere to go, I had no idea how I would locate the others. And I had to locate them, no other course of action was possible. They needed my help—assuming I found it possible to first help myself— and whatever I did would have to be done alone.

  Depression tried to fill me again, but the strength flowing into me from the power left no room for debilitating emo­tions. It was impossible to deny that I would have to act alone, but that would hardly be the first time. It might turn out to be the hardest time, but that would hold true only if I failed to make a decent plan. That, then, was my first objective: to make a plan rather than simply to act and run. Running blindly is often worse than not running at all.

  So I returned to the tray with the intention of refilling my teacup, and ended up sitting down to the meal. I'd suddenly noticed that I was quite hungry alter all, and it was neces­sary to remember that I'd been commanded to eat. Giving those people the least hint that I wasn't quite as helpless as they imagined would be stupid, and my Blendingmates and I had already committed enough stupidities.

  By the time I finished the food—which I had to rewarm only a little—more of the fog was gone from my mind and I had a tentative plan. It had come to me that the others and I needed to know what had been done to us, to make certain it was never done a second time. I was sure Lanir knew the details, and it should be possible to get him to brag about his knowledge. He might even know what had been done with the others, and if so, then I would know. I promised myself that, in the grimmest tone I could ever remember using.

  I sat back in the chair with my teacup, trying not to dwell on the most disturbing part of my plan—which revolved around the fact that I couldn't afford to leave the house until after that dinner party. I would have been happiest if I could have walked out immediately, but that Lord Lanir wasn't here to be questioned, and I really didn't want anyone send­ing guardsmen after me right away. They'd probably be sent eventually, but the longer I had to find a place to go, the better off I would be.

  So I sipped tea and wondered what had been planned for my father as a reception. Seeing him again was another thing I would have been happy to miss, especially if he brought Odrin Hallasser with him. It was difficult to believe that anyone would actually try to challenge a noble's claim to anything, so my father had to be more than desperate. I might have pitied someone else in the same situation, but my father had brought his problems on himself. He'd delib­erately made his bed without considering anyone else, and now he could lie in it without interference.

  But I still would have been happier if I didn't have to see him pull the covers up....

  THREE

  Rion sat in the chair the servant had helped him to, feeling more lightheaded than be could ever remember being. It almost felt as though he floated in midair, and his thoughts were much too vague. But that didn't mean he had no idea about where he was or what was happening to him. That he knew all too well, and if not for whatever drug had been given him, he would have been drowning in despair.

  "Ah, good morning, my darling," Mother's voice came, and then she appeared to take the chair opposite his. "Did you sleep well? Did you enjoy your breakfast? ... I know you're able to reply, Clarion, and I would advise you to do so at once. I'm sure you've learned better than to make Mother angry."

  "In point of fact, I've learned a good deal more than that," Rion responded, forced to speak slowly and with dif­ficulty. "The most important lesson is that your anger is meaningless, so you may do as you please in that regard. I assure you that it will all be the same to me."

  "That, of course, will be the first fallacy you unlearn," she countered, no longer as pleased as she'd been. "You will quickly remember how uncomfortable my anger can make you, and also, if necessary, that it can become painful. I will have my darling bey back, just as he was before he left to be ruined."

  "You seem to think that ignoring the truth will make it go away," Rion observed, wishing it were possible to throw off the lethargy holding him in place. "Your former 'darling boy' has ceased to exist, and the man he has become detests you and all you stand for. If not for whatever I've been drugged with, I would walk from this house without a single backward glance."

  "To do what?" Mother challenged with a sound of rid­icule. "You haven't a single copper of your own, and you're completely incapable of earning anything to support your­self. You would be reduced to begging in the streets, and everyone who saw you would laugh. Do you want to be laughed at? As a child, you hated when it happened...."

  "Do you mean when you arranged for it to happen?" Rion said, taking advantage of the way her voice had trailed off in an effort to humiliate him without words. "Yes, Mother, I have finally figured out that all my difficulties with people were caused by you. It left me no one but you to turn to for companionship, which was precisely the result you were after."

  "You don't need anyone's companionship but mine," she grated, once again less than pleased. "But that doesn't mean I caused those incidents. It's painful to say this to you, my dear, but your... clumsiness and lack of personality precip­itated those discomfitures. You simply weren't able to cope, and all I did was sympathize and support you. If that's the sort of thing you wish to blame me for, please feel free to do so. A loving mother is always willing to be of whatever help she can be?"

  "I find it difficult to believe that at one time I would have been swayed by that sort of nonsense," Rion remarked, ig­noring the nobly suffering expression on her face. "This drug allows me nothing in the way of strong emotions, of course, but even beyond that your claims are patently ab­surd. Someone who is incapable is incapable all the time, not simply when one particular person is about. Tell me what has become of my friends."

  "I forbid you to mention lo
w, vulgar peasants in my pres­ence again," she said coldly with a gesture of dismissal. "If it had been up to me, those who ruined my darling boy would have suffered a good deal more than they shall... And I will have my darling back again, even if I must use something other than persuasion to see it done."

  "If you're waiting for me to ask what that something is, you're being absurd again," Rion said, trying to find the energy to at least think about struggling against the drug. "Your threats will never frighten me again, so you'd best resign yourself to not having your own way this time."

  "Indeed?" she said, the sleekness enough to have made Rion extremely uneasy had he been free of the drug. "But I always have my own way, unless some vindictive sneak exercises his greater power behind my back. If I'd known Embisson Ruhl was behind your having been stolen away from me ... but no matter. I've already taken steps to even the score with him. He'll have as much pain as I had at your loss ... But we were discussing methods other than gentle persuasion for gaining what I refuse to do without."

  This time Rion said nothing, principally to underscore his lack of interest. He truly felt that being dead would be pref­erable to remaining a prisoner for as long as his mother lived, something she needed to understand and believe.

  "The physician told me something rather interesting," Mother continued in the purr that showed she was at her most vindictive. "The sedative you're being given is called hilsom powder, and I was warned not to keep you on it too long. Another day or two will be enough to be certain that your Air magic talent is ruined beyond repair, but then you must be taken off it or there could be ... mind damage. Are you able to appreciate what that means?"