| |
“Have a seat,” Korneli instructed as he closed the study door behind him. Errol and Eldivo were using the kitchen for their testing so that we could use the study. Choosing my usual place at the desk beneath the windows, I obeyed.
Korneli didn’t immediately take Errol’s place behind the desk in the center of the room. Instead, he crossed to the bookcases and scanned the orderly rows. “Errol says you have been having difficulty with doing multiple tasks at once,” he sent without looking my way. Taking a book from the shelf, he opened in and began flipping through the pages.
“I am easily distracted,” I confessed. “I have practiced sending while levitating an object and I always end up dropping the object.”
Finding what he was looking for, he set the book down on Errol’s desk and met my gaze with a smile. “Don’t look so frightened.” He took a seat. “I am not going to hurt you. I am going to test you on your knowledge and then your capabilities. I already know that you are well versed in the etiquette rules of talents. Now I am going to test you on your knowledge of the code. What is the one instance when a talent can touch and manipulate a non-talent’s mind without prior permission?”
“When at the death bed of the High King, the Sept Son is allowed to ease the High King’s passing.”
“Correct. From what I understand, that is what the current Sept Son had to do for High King Honorus. Define Elitism for me.”
“It is the belief that talents are superior in every way to non-talents. Elitists do not conform to the Talent’s Code because they believe it is restricting and unnecessary. Seeking to produce more pure talent in their offspring, Elitist communities mate talented males with untrained talented females.”
“Why untrained?” he asked abruptly.
“I suppose it is because they cannot defend themselves from mind control,” I offered hesitantly. Errol and I hadn’t really discussed it, but I had wondered the same thing.
Korneli’s dark eyes watched me. “So you believe that the Elitists use mind control? The history doesn’t record anything about such practices.”
“I find it difficult to believe that they could not use it, master,” I replied. “Without it, they wouldn’t be able to integrate the untrained talented females into the community so quickly. I would also expect more of their non-talented servants would rebel.”
He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, how would they hide such activity? Mind-altered talents tend to display signs of memory loss and physiological evidence of abuse. If their minds are invaded and memory changed often enough, parts of their brains quit functioning. So, why hasn’t this been detected?”
Recalling the readings from the histories, I frowned. “Weren’t all the Elitists destroyed before any of them could be studied? Then there would have been no chance for long term observation of the Elitists or their servants.”
“An interesting theory. Now quote for me what the Code has to say about mind control.’
“On talents or non-talents, master?”
“Both,” he replied as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
I spent about a half hour quoting parts of the Code for him. This was that part of the testing that I didn’t mind. I was proficient with sending and getting much better at sending only what I wanted to; in this case, words. Also, my memorization of the Code was almost finished. There were only a few sections on the Sept Son’s duties and interaction with government that I hadn’t gotten to yet. Next, Errol was promising that we would be discussing theory, and I would be writing papers on ethical situations.
Korneli was leaning back in the chair with his legs stretched out in front of him, playing with Errol’s glass paperweight. Suddenly, while I was quoting the section on when not to use mass moving, he held up his hand. “That is enough of that for this testing. Now I am going to test your reflexes.” Then without warning, he tossed the paperweight at me.
I was slow reaching for my amoveo and caught it only an inch from the floor.
“I didn’t hear a crash; so, I assume that you caught it. Now hold it there.” He took up an ink pot from the desk and tossed it from hand to hand. “Since you are having difficulty with multiple objects, I am giving you warning. I am going to toss this into the air in a moment and I need you to catch it without dropping the paperweight.”
I tried to prepare, but it wasn’t helpful. He tossed the ink into the air. I tried to latch onto it with my thoughts while still holding the paperweight. My grip on the paper weight eased and it settled on the floor with a thud. The small jar of ink, however, obeyed my thoughts and stopped in mid arch, suspended between Korneli and me at eye level.
“Good choice.” He walked around the desk and held out his hand before him. “Place the ink here.”
That was easy. I smoothly moved the jar from its place hanging on nothing to Korneli’s palm without a problem.
“I am pleased to see that you don’t just drop everything.” He set the small black jar back on the desk before turning back to me. “If you did it would be a sign of a much bigger issue. All I think you need is practice and a little work on your technique. Nothing terrible.” He smiled at me. “Now I understand that you are a great storyteller.” He resumed his place behind Errol’s desk. “Tell me a story.”
I chose one of the tales of the Revelation about the king who rented out his vineyards to some caretakers for a share of the crop. I used all the techniques I was learning for sending only emotion, thought, or images, and every combination of the three. When I finished, Korneli nodded.
“Well done. The images were clear, the emotions well portrayed, and the words perfect.” He opened his eyes and smiled at me. “I have rarely had a story told to me with such eloquence. You should consider studying with the Aegyptus storytellers.”
“The wanderers?” I asked. Famous for their storytelling and music, Aegypti move from place to place within our country. They stayed in one place for only a few days, entertaining and fixing things before moving on to their next temporary home.
“I spent sometime with them four years ago and heard many a wondrous tale. Your telling tasted of theirs. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a natural gift. If you are interested, I will speak to Errol about having you meet with a friend of mine. She is a retired Aegyptus, married and settled down with her farming husband.”
“I would love that.” It was a struggle to keep my enthusiasm from overflowing into the sending. I had never met an Aegyptus. My mother proclaimed them beneath our notice, but she was no longer overseeing me.
“Then consider it done.” He placed his hands on the table. “Now to see about that problem of yours,” he said as he rose to his feet. “I want you to pick up the ink pot and place it in my hand.”
Reaching for my amoveo, I called to the little black jar. As I lifted it into the air, I felt a brush of foreign energy.
“Ah, as I suspected. You aren’t using a field. That might be your whole problem. Put it down on the desk again.”
I replaced the pot.
“I want you to touch your amoveo.”
I did and the now familiar rush of energy filling me made my heart speed up slightly.
“Do you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“Form the energy into a field around you, like enclosing yourself in a sphere.”
“How wide?”
“To here,” he sent as he extended his hand four feet before me. “Close your eyes and see everything within that sphere with your energy.”
I tried to obey. I extended my energy out like a sphere around my body, but as I closed my eyes, I could see nothing. Then suddenly something crossed into the field and ripples echoed out from the disruption. It looked like a hand.
“Do you see my hand?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Stop it from moving by making the sphere solid.”
I almost asked for more explanation, but even as I formed the words for the sending, I did it. His hand froze in mid-motion and he yelped in surprise. I reacted by letting go of my amoveo. When I opened my eyes, Korneli was looking at me oddly and shaking his hand as though it hurt.
“I am sorry,” I murmured, half afraid that he was angry.
“Don’t be. I know it was unintentional.” He examined his hand, wiggling all the fingers gingerly.
“What happened?” I asked.
He glanced up from his examination of his palm and pinned me with his powerful gaze. “You just closed over my hand so solidly that the pressure surprised me. I thought that the size of the sphere would be enough to dilute your energy, but I was wrong.” A thoughtful glimmer passed over his face. “Let us test how far your ability goes. Stand over there.” He pointed to the far corner from the door. “I will stand near the door to the hallway. Touch your amoveo and extend it until you can detect my hand again.”
I obeyed. With my back against the wall, I touched my amoveo. As the energy coursed through me, I fed it into a sphere. This time I could instantly feel the energy working its way through the wall at my back and the bookcases to my right and left. Closing my eyes, I continued to expand the field, sensing more and more of the room with each swelling. I could also detect what was on the other side of the wall at my back, the millstone, hibernating plants, and the air. Finally, I detected Koneli’s hand, passing across the far face of the field. The disruption of its movement played across the energy field like ripples on a pond.
“Solidify the field around my hand,” Korneli ordered.
This time, I was much more gradual. I knew that with only a few practice tries, I would be able to master this new skill.
“Enough,” he said aloud. I released my hold and suddenly felt blind.
Opening my eyes, I found Korneli thoughtfully rubbing his hand. “I am guessing that you did not reach your most solid. Am I correct?”
I nodded. “What does it mean?”
He met my gaze. “It means you are very powerful, Zezilia. With power comes responsibility. I need you to promise me that you will work hard with Errol and Selwyn to train this talent. Without the training, you might hurt someone inadvertently. The injury could be far worse that a broken bone. Even now, you could easily crush my hand or me with a thought.”
Visions of Candra falling and the sickening crack of her bone breaking flashed through my thoughts. I didn’t want to accidentally do that again. I quickly assured Korneli that I would work hard.
He smiled as he crossed the room to the desk in the middle. “I know you will.” Taking a seat, he skimmed the open book. “Code, etiquette, sending, receiving, mass movement,” he looked up at me, “I think we have finished the testing. Congratulations, Zezilia, you have passed your first year testing.” He closed the book with a thump and leaned back in the chair. “Now, I understand that you had some questions for me.” A spark of mischief glinted in his eye as he folded his arms across his chest.
It took me a moment to recover from his casual change of topic. “When did he know he was talented?” I had secret hopes that there was another like myself who hadn’t known until someone discovered them.
“Well, his parents suspected since his birth, but he didn’t show any inclination until he was a teen. That fits with the profile though.”
“What profile?”
“The late bloomers tend to be the most powerful. Yes, I believe the first thing he did was a mental shout while being punished for something he hadn’t done. Anonto broke his fishing rod and blamed Ilias. Ilias was a bit of a hot head those days and instead of denying it, he punched his older brother in the nose. I joined in the fray to defend his honor and all of us got our seats tanned for fighting when his father came out. Ilias got it last, partially because he was the youngest and partially because he started it and was going to get additional reprimands. On the third whap, as his father vocally added the broken fishing pole to his list of crimes, Ilias let out a mental shout that gave all of us talents a headache.”
“What is a mental shout?” I asked.
Lifting his head to regard me with surprised eyes, he asked, “Didn’t you manifest your talent with a shout?”
I shook my head. “Errol says he heard me projecting a lot emotion, but he said nothing about a shout.”
“Well, shouting is usually the first sign that a child has talent and the most basic of the talent skills. It is essentially a sending powered by strong emotion that is heard by multiple talents within range. I, myself, cannot shout very far because my sending range is limited. Ilias, however, could send quite far, and still can. Everyone in the household heard him, even his mother, who has only minimal abilities. It took a whole day for most of our heads to stop hurting.”
“Did he still get punished for the fishing rod?”
Korneli laughed. It was a rough bark that contrasted sharply to his pleasant appearance. “He got an extra whap for making everyone’s heads hurt.”
I opened my mouth to ask where Ilias was now, but a knock on the outer door interrupted.
“It sounded like you are finished,” Galatea said as she slipped into the room. She had changed her dress to one of her best. Smiling sweetly at Korneli, she opened the door wide and leaned against it prettily. “Father wants to speak with you,” she told Korneli.
“Ah, yes, they are probably finished by now. I wonder how Eldivo fared.” Rising to his feet, Korneli picked the tome off the table. After replacing it on the shelf, he turned to me. “It has been an honor, Zezilia. I hope to be amazed by your progress next time we meet.” He saluted me formally, nodded to Galatea, and exited.
“You must tell me everything after he leaves,” Galatea whispered as soon as he disappeared.
“So you can drool?” I asked.
“You wouldn’t understand.” She arranged her face into a tragic look. “Unrequited love is so difficult to live through.”
“You only met him this morning.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of love at first sight?”
“Don’t believe in the stuff.”
“See, I told you that you wouldn’t understand. You are so childish sometimes.” With a lofty glance over her shoulder, she paraded out into the hall.
––––––––
SPRING APPEARED SUDDENLY. One morning the snow was gone and the next the birds returned, calling their greetings to one another across the open expanses of the compound gardens. I found my eyes and thoughts wandering more and more to the budding life beyond my office windows. It was easy to dwell on the beauty of the Almighty’s creation when within the walls the weightier matters of my duties awaited.
The regular mundane work of advising and letter writing flowed smoothly. I kept Renato busy with my correspondence. We worked out a system for answering queries based on what category they fell into. That eliminated most of the issues that I didn’t really need to see to personally. It also left the requests for advice on training and disciplining young talents, overseeing the testing, and all the political problems that kept coming from the capital for me.
High King Deucalion Marcellus was proving to be a good choice. Though we didn’t agree on every issue, he knew his mind and made rational decisions. When he did something I disagreed with, Renato would remind me of my reasons for choosing Deucalion over his brother, Blaise.
The Mesitas continued his campaign against me. Rumors came and went. My family was questioned and spied upon. Thankfully, he seemed content with pestering my oldest brothers and left Selwyn alone. If the Mesitas changed his tactics, however, we were prepared. Selwyn agreed to disappear as soon as there was any sign of surveillance.
Korneli’s initial report on Zezilia’s testing was overwhelmingly positive. I wrote back to him asking for the real story. His reply was to appear at my doorstep four weeks later with Septimus in tow to speak to me in person.
“What do you want me to say?” he asked as we walked across the compound toward my living quarters. Septimus, who insisted on being referred to as Eldivo, remained behind with Renato. “She is serious and conscientious. I have never tested a first year with such a grasp of the basics and her potential for mass movement is extraordinary.”
“You didn’t tell her that?” I asked.
“Not in those words. Why?”
“Errol is concerned about her getting over confident and haughty.”
“I didn’t see any signs of that. She was responsive and humble. I think you two are worrying too much.”
I looked over to find him frowning at me.
“In fact, from the look of you, you are spending way too much time bent over a desk and worrying in general. What happened to leaving things in the Almighty’s hands?”
I agreed, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. “The problems will not disappear by themselves. I must work at them, letting the Almighty use my hands to do His will. I am not a carefree traveler anymore, Korneli. I have a whole nation depending on me to keep their talented educated and equipped. I don’t have time for afternoon romps or lazy swims, though I have to admit that I am wishing I did, especially in this weather.”
The early summer sun warmed our heads and brought out the deep green of the grass beside the trail. With a slight breeze keeping it from being too hot for comfort, it was a perfect day for a long walk in the cool of the gardens.
“How is Septimus doing?”
Korneli grimaced. “The boy’s parents were complete idiots. They taught him to be a haughty, arrogant brat. Thank the Almighty he is teachable. I am telling you, Ilias, I spend more time teaching him how to behave around people than how to use his talent skills.”
I nodded gravely. Korneli enlightened me about the boy’s past months ago and his parents’ behavior toward their son didn’t make much sense. Sadly he wasn’t the first to be treated differently because of his abilities. I thanked the Almighty daily for my parents. They raised me exactly as they raised their other sons and continued to love each of us equally.
“How did his meeting with Errol’s girls go?”
“Surprisingly well,” Korneli replied. “He talks of Eloine all the time and he was flabbergasted that Zezilia was the one I was there to test.”
“You did tell him to not speak of her to anyone?”
“Of course.”
“The necessity of keeping her abilities a secret increases daily. The Elitist mentality is spreading and I haven’t heard from my contact within the community for a few weeks. If they got a hold of her, they would destroy her in trying to bring her to submission.”
“I heard news of at least three disappearances in the east of young women rumored to have talent.”
“Where?” I stopped in the path. This was news to me. All previous disappearances occurred near the Elitist village and I had hoped that they would remain contained along the Western coast.
“They were taken from homesteads on the east coast near Urnucia,” he replied with a worried look. “You mean you didn’t hear about that?”
I frowned, but began walking again. “No, I didn’t. That means that they are probably working from the coast inward. Do you know where I could get descriptions of these women?”
“I would expect that your brother Anonto would have that. He was the one that mentioned it to Selwyn, who mentioned it to me when I visited him after testing Zezilia.”
“If that is what is happening, Zezilia might not be safe where she is. We will have to move her.”
“Might I suggest an alternative?”
I looked over to find Korneli frowning at me. “What?”
“Have Errol teach her defensive skills; so, that she is prepared regardless of what happens. You said yourself that she seems to have a knack for keeping people out of her head if she wants to. If Errol gives her the skills, I am willing to bet she could keep even you out.”
As memories of her closing me out that first evening filled my thoughts, I found myself nodding. Korneli was right. With the training she would be the match of any talent who attempted to breach her thoughts or attempted mind control. I made a mental note to write to Errol to focus on defensive techniques next. However, it would not help her defend herself physically. I said as much to Korneli.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said with a laugh. “All she has to do is surround herself with an energy field and solidify it and she could clear a room. With a little training, she will be fully capable of handling herself in that area too.”
Just then, we reached the front door to my quarters. The low building was surrounded by a well-tended garden hedged by bushes and trees so that no one could see into the large windows. Built back when the compound was first constructed, the stone walls were ancient, but well maintained. I had chosen this as my residence as opposed to the more austere and recently built quarters nearer the center of the compound.
“This is a ways from the office, isn’t it?” Korneli commented as I unlocked the heavy oak door and pushed it open.
“When I am not working, I don’t want to constantly be reminded of the work yet unfinished.”
“Do you stay here alone?”
The dim recesses of the foyer opened up in the brightness of the common room. The doors into the gardens were open, letting in the breezes and a hint of baking bread wafted in from the kitchens on the other side of the gardens.
“Renato stays with me. The cook makes sure we don’t starve, and the gardener comes daily to work on the vegetation. Do you want something to drink?”
“No, thank you,” Korneli answered as he crossed to one of the upholstered chairs.
“So, what did you think of Zezilia?” I asked as I sank into my favorite chair near the cold fireplace and stretched my legs out before me. It felt so good to relax. I was not winding down enough lately. As the muscles in my shoulders gradually eased against the softness, I promised myself to take more walks in the future.
“I like her. She is a quiet little thing, but she gets her point across when she needs to. Have you given any thought to what you are going to do with her once she is trained?”
I leaned back and closed my eyes, resting my head on the back of the chair. “Her father has my promise that I will marry her off to someone or marry her myself. I was hoping that she and Septimus would hit it off.”
“No, not likely. Septimus seems to have taken to Eloine.”
“So you say.”
“I do say. The boy finds Zezilia a bit intimidating, despite the fact he hasn’t tasted her abilities yet. I think it is her confident manner. You were right about her not using an energy field, by the way. Errol says she is now mastering mass moving without any trouble now.”
I nodded and smiled. “I am glad. I know how frustrating it is to not manage something that should be easy.”
“Like touching your amoveo?” Korneli asked mischievously. I ignored him.
We lapsed into amicable silence for a few moments. Outside the birds sang and something rustled in the bushes.
Then Korneli’s voice interrupted my blissful thoughts of nothing. “Let us say that you marry her off, what then? I cannot see letting all that talent go to waste. The Almighty must have some purpose for her.”
I looked over at my friend sprawled on his chair, eyeing me from under lowered lids, and shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I agree she has a purpose, but I am still completely unaware of what He has planned. She needs training; so, I shall see that she gets it.”
“Hmm...I have this feeling that she is going to surprise us yet.”
