Competitions Read online

  “Actually … more than just a few days,” Genovir grudged, not terribly happy about parting with the information. “But that means nothing to someone at your level, my dear, and you shouldn’t let it disturb you. Disturbance will hamper your ability, you know, so when it comes time for you to try for mastery you’ll be at a severe disadvantage.”

  “I think that achieving mastery will take care of any disturbance there might be,” Jovvi said pleasantly after finishing her tea. “Just how do I arrange to go about that?”

  “I—I ask one of the other Adepts to witness your performance,” Genovir responded, her inner balance definitely gone now. “But you really should take more practice time first, to be certain … you…”

  The woman’s words trailed off as Jovvi calmly and simply shook her head, refusing to hear Genovir’s “words of wisdom.” There was no longer any doubt that moving ahead as quickly as possible was still the right thing to do, and she’d have to tell the others as soon as they all got back to the residence tonight. Tamma, and Vallant Ro, and Rion Mardimil, and Pagin Holter—and Lorand Coll. Lorand especially…

  Genovir left the table abruptly, but Jovvi wasn’t given much time to worry about how Lorand was doing. It took only a couple of moments before Genovir was back, along with a man who looked more supercilious than self-assured.

  “Dama Jovvi Hafford, I present you to Adept Algus,” Genovir said, all but curtseying. “Adept Algus will witness your attempt at mastery, and certify it if you succeed.”

  “When I succeed,” Jovvi corrected, then rose to her feet to smile at Algus. “How nice that I’ll have a gentleman accompanying me. I always do much better in the company of gentlemen.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a moment, lovely child,” Algus replied, his smile having grown interested. “Allow me to offer my arm for the short walk to the practice building.”

  Jovvi took the man’s arm with her most charming smile of agreement, ignoring the roiling fuss coming from Genovir. The female Adept was furious over how quickly Jovvi had melted Algus’s aloofness, but that was too bad about her. The tall, saturnine man would do much better on Jovvi’s side, most likely missing entirely how he was being manipulated. Many men with power enjoyed letting beautiful women manipulate them, a fact Jovvi had learned during her time as a courtesan.

  Algus decided to chat as he escorted Jovvi to the practice building, so she obligingly chatted. He was an older man who was still in his prime, although obviously no stronger than Genovir. His attempts to unbalance Jovvi’s emotions to his own benefit were easily deflected, so they walked into the practice room still chatting about nothing. Six new subjects stood in the room, eyes dull from the drugs they’d been given, and Algus waved a languid hand at them.

  “There they are, lovely child,” he said, his smile more demeaning than amused. “As soon as I cue them, you may go right to it.”

  Jovvi nodded with a much better smile and walked to the center of the room, hiding her extreme distaste with the ease of long practice done elsewhere. The subjects they gave her to practice on here were all drugged, otherwise they’d never be able to maintain an almost constant state of unbalance for her to work with. Anger was the easiest thing to induce, with fear coming in a close second. She’d worked with both during the initial test and the sessions, but in this place they’d so far used only anger.

  “Hear one who is authorized to command you,” Algus said, obviously giving them the keying phrase. “This woman is your enemy, and your anger at her is boundless.”

  The six people immediately grew furious, their raging emotions aimed directly at Jovvi. It had disturbed her for quite some time that morning to see the expressions and gestures that went with the emotion, but she’d finally gotten almost used to it. At least she’d learned to be less concerned over working with actual people, something everyone was raised not to do. The far from easy life she’d led as a child now helped her in that respect, and Jovvi was willing to take any help she could get.

  So she immediately spread out her ability, touching the hostile emotions of the people before her. They really were furious and weren’t far from deciding to hurt her, so she quickly began to balance their hostility. Their emotions eased immediately, the drug’s presence in their systems doing nothing to stop her, and their shouting and fist-shaking ended just as quickly. They were completely mollified and under control, but Algus waited a moment or two before acknowledging that.

  “Very nicely done, lovely child,” he conceded at last, sounding more patronizing than approving. “One mastery accomplished, three to go. You people—division one.”

  At the command the six subjects divided into two groups of three, and then they were radiating heavy anger again. It was slightly more difficult for Jovvi to divide her abilities as well, but only because there were individual sources of unbalance in each of the two groups. Beyond that she’d already divided her strength into more than two parts, so a pair of moments later the two groups were calm again. This time Algus waited longer than he had the first time, but eventually had to give in.

  “Two masteries, then,” he granted, his words on the cool side. “Quickly now, you people, division two.”

  One person came from each of the former groups, and now there were three groups containing two people each. Jovvi had to brace herself against the renewed anger, wondering if the testing authority realized that this was the hardest part of the problem. Multiple members of multiple groups was a very tricky exercise in balance, and small beads of perspiration formed on Jovvi’s brow before she had all three groups calmed again. The beads of sweat grew larger while Algus made her hold the groups, but once again he was eventually forced to acknowledge her accomplishment.

  “All right, that’s three,” he just about snapped, apparently finding it difficult to maintain his own balance. “But there’s still one to go, so don’t congratulate yourself quite yet. You people, division three.”

  The six people spread out to stand individually, which came as a relief for Jovvi. If Algus thought handling six individuals was harder than three pairs Jovvi wasn’t about to correct him, but she did make something of a production of it. She let the ranting and raging go on for a moment before bringing it under control, then clenched her fists as she held the six with her power. She wanted her “struggle” to be clear to Algus, who would certainly wait as long as possible before ending the test. He did wait longer again while Jovvi held the six with only a small amount of effort, but finally his voice came to end it.

  “Much to my astonishment, that’s four masteries,” he said, now sounding honestly surprised. “You have my congratulations, Dama, for showing yourself superior to most of those of the gentle sex. Would you care to rest now?”

  “Yes, with a cup of tea, if you please,” Jovvi replied faintly after releasing the six subjects. Actually she felt fine, but if Algus wanted to believe her exhausted, that was something else she wasn’t about to argue.

  “Here, take my arm,” Algus said after hurrying over to her, his interest now a good deal more intense. “We’ll have the tea together, and perhaps a sweet cake as well. Or anything else you might wish. Your company honors me, Dama, and it would please me to see to your needs.”

  Jovvi gave him a wan smile as she leaned on his arm, perfectly well aware of which needs of hers Algus would most prefer seeing to. It would be silly to tell him at once that he hadn’t a prayer of making it into her bed, not when there were things she hoped to learn from the man.

  But one thing she’d already learned, and the point was rather significant. Algus now called her “dama” rather than the condescending “lovely child” he’d been using, which meant quite a lot. Gaining those masteries had earned her another step upward, and one that was important enough to change Algus’s attitude. If it had been a negative step he would have been a lot less ingratiating, which meant her theories about moving ahead being the best way were proving themselves.

  Jovvi took a deep breath of fresh air as Algus led
her outside, but still had to fight down a brief flash of frustration. So her theories had proven themselves so far; that didn’t tell her how much farther they would take her. She still didn’t know how good good-enough would turn out to be, but she’d better find out before everything fell apart…

  CHAPTER THREE

  Rion Mardimil, Air magic

  Rion sat in the fresh air after enjoying his meal, a pleasant change from the circumstance found with the sessions he’d moved beyond. The food served for lunch at the sessions had been abominable, nothing a man of breeding and culture would accept for long. Here, though… The meal had been good enough that even Mother wouldn’t have complained very much.

  Rion realized that that was the first time he’d thought about Mother all morning, and the realization pleased him. Mother was doing her best to keep him under her thumb and completely dependent on her, but he’d already gained more of an advantage than he’d expected to. She’d tried to force him into changing his name back to Clarion, that awful joke she’d saddled him with, but it hadn’t worked. Instead she’d secured him allies, which Padril had explained about.

  Looking around showed Rion the place where Padril, his Adept guide, had taken his lunch, at a table with others who also seemed to be Adepts. Padril had assured Rion that he was much more potentially valuable to the Empire than Mother was, so as soon as he proved his worth he would have powerful friends to stand between him and Mother. And he needed those friends, no matter how strong his resolve was to find independence. He’d discovered that his resolve and determination began to crumble when Mother stood directly in front of him, and as abhorrent as the thought of returning to her domination was, he feared it would happen if he found himself standing alone.

  A burst of laughter arose from those people sitting with Padril, momentarily making Rion believe that they were laughing at him. When he’d still been Clarion he’d been laughed at more than once, but he hastened to remind himself that he was now Rion and that didn’t happen to Rion. Indeed, from the way Padril had spoken, Rion would be the last one anyone laughed at. Great things were expected from Rion, and Rion was ready to produce them.

  Another burst of laughter came from the same tableful of people, and this time one or two actually glanced in his direction.

  Rion knew he was extremely unworldly as far as most things went, but being ridiculed was one state of affairs he was well familiar with. Those people were laughing at him, but he couldn’t understand why they would do so. Padril had agreed about how special he knew Rion to be, how much better than all the commoners around him…

  Only then did the thought come, that there were just commoners around him. Clothing didn’t enter into it since all applicants wore the same white shirt or blouse and gray trousers or skirt. Bearing and attitude shouted that he was the only member of the nobility present, which could well mean that other members of the nobility were being handled and tested in some other place. Since he hadn’t come across any of his peers at any time so far, the theory appeared to be more than sound.

  Which meant that Padril hadn’t believed his claim to be a member of the nobility, and the Adept’s very solicitous concern and support had been a sham. He hadn’t admired Rion and his potential at all, and possibly hadn’t even believed in it. Padril had been pretending, making Rion the butt of a joke, and that was the amusement he now shared with his friends. See the foolish young man who really thought he was important.

  Rion felt the definite urge to do violence, an emotion he’d felt before but had never been so close to acting on. The nerve of that peasant, to make him the butt of his senseless joke! Committing violence would have felt marvelous, but Rion saw Padril rise and begin to walk toward him, and suddenly he had a better idea. Telling people things was never as good as showing them, and Padril had earned some showing. Besides, he now remembered that he and the others at the residence had decided to move ahead as quickly as possible, which fit in perfectly with his own plans.

  “Ah, Rion, finished with lunch, I see,” Padril remarked with his usual ingratiating smile as he reached Rion. “You must have had a strenuous morning, but you certainly look as if you’ve been restored.”

  “Completely restored, thank you,” Rion returned, trying not to sound stiff with anger. There was no sense in warning the fellow, or making it impossible for the man to say the wrong thing.

  “Ah, then in that case I must disturb your rest time to ask a most pressing question,” Padril continued, his brown eyes showing veiled amusement. “We’ve already established that you’ll be doing marvelous things, but I’ve been wondering just how soon you’ll be doing them. My superiors will want to know… Perhaps by the beginning of the new week? Surely that won’t be too soon?”

  “Actually, the beginning of the new week doesn’t suit me at all,” Rion drawled, fairly certain he knew what Padril was aiming at. “I wonder why you would think it did.”

  “I thought so because you were the one who wanted to forge strongly ahead,” Padril reminded him, gentle admonition behind the words. “But surely I’m the one who is mistaken, and you would prefer to wait until the second new week before showing us your prowess. Better to wait a bit longer and be absolutely certain, eh?”

  “I’m already absolutely certain,” Rion said, ignoring the wink the man had shown him. “And I see no reason for a wait of any length. Whom do I have to see to arrange the testing right now?”

  “Now?” Padril echoed, his vast and worldly amusement suddenly faltering. “You can’t mean you want to—Now?”

  “Yes, now,” Rion repeated, taking a grimly pleased satisfaction from the man’s sudden nervousness. “To whom do I speak about it?”

  “Why, I’m the one assigned to witness your attempts at mastery, but surely you’re simply joking with me.” Padril had begun to sweat and squirm, for some reason Rion couldn’t fathom. “You can’t possibly be ready to test yet, not after only half a day of practice. It—isn’t often done.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t foolish enough to say ‘never done,’” Rion told him as he rose to his feet. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

  Padril’s bearded face was creased into a worried frown, but he said nothing further before turning to lead the way to the path that led across the grass to the practice building. The so-called Adept glanced at those he’d been sitting with as he walked, but made no effort to acknowledge their smirks and grins. He must have come over to add to the general amusement, Rion realized, but had found the joke ruined instead. And it would really be ruined once Rion passed the test.

  The practice building was divided into a number of rooms, each of which was lit by lamps sealed behind clear windows of resin. In fact the entire room was capable of being sealed, which Padril saw to once the six people Rion was to work with had entered.

  “When I pull this cord, smoke will be pumped into the room,” Padril said as though Rion had no idea about what was going on. “The first mastery required of you is to keep yourself and those six people breathing freely, with them standing together in a single group.”

  Rion nodded curtly to show that he understood perfectly, and after a moment’s hesitation Padril pulled the rope. Smoke began to billow into the room immediately, heavier smoke than Rion had worked with that morning. The difference wasn’t all that significant, however, not when Rion reached out with the fingers of his talent. Air magic was his aspect, and in no more than a moment there was clean air for himself and the six subject people to breathe.

  “Now they’ll divide into two groups of three,” Padril announced after another hesitation. “Remember that you must keep them breathing freely.”

  Padril had surrounded himself with his own clean air, of course, but Rion had the impression that the man wasn’t holding it easily. But that was unimportant at the moment, and protecting his subjects was not. Rion carefully parted the shell of clean air and sent it with the three people who moved away from the others, and not a wisp of smoke disturbed any of them.


  “Very … impressive,” Padril said after an even longer hesitation, his voice now trembling faintly. “Two masteries completed, two to go. May we have the next separation, please?”

  The three people who had moved away now moved back again, but only in order to form three groups of two. Rion carefully separated his spheres of air again, but there wasn’t much time left. The air that had started out clear was being used too far by too many people, and the pumped-in smoke had tainted whatever air was left. If Padril didn’t stop taking his time admitting the masteries, the subjects would soon be coughing and choking from something other than smoke.

  “Yes, well, that’s three now, isn’t it?” Padril asked after much too long a time. “Well, just one more to go, but it is the hardest. Places, please.”

  The Adept now sounded too pleased to suit Rion, so while the six people began to separate into six individually clear islands in the smoke, Rion thought about why. It took only a moment to come up with a guess, but it seemed rather likely. If one or more of the subjects began to cough from breath-tainted air, Padril could claim it was smoke causing them to cough, and thereafter deny him the mastery. It would fit well with the heavy man’s twisted sense of humor, but Rion had a joke of his own to play.

  It took an enormous amount of concentration and effort, but Rion did find it possible to steal the air from around Padril and distribute it among his six subjects. He didn’t take all of Padril’s air, of course, just enough to keep his subjects breathing freely. And the most amusing part of it all was that Padril never noticed the loss.

  Or at least didn’t notice it to begin with. The Adept seemed prepared to wait even longer than previously before acknowledging Rion’s mastery, but then there was an abrupt change in his plans. It was Padril who began to cough and choke, and then the heavy man was unsealing the room in order to get outside. Rion waited until the smoke was completely gone before unshielding his subjects, and then he strolled out to where Padril stood gulping air and occasionally still choking.