The Talented Page 16

  Only at night did she allow herself to think of Kyrog, of Ricco and Jeral and how much she missed them.

  Adrienne banished the tug of nostalgia and brought herself back to the present, looking down at the magnificent sword still in her hands, then back at Pieter. “I want this, but I wish I could make some sort of payment.”

  Pieter looked thoughtful for a moment. “I would like your old sword,” he said at last.

  “What?” Adrienne’s voice came out high and tight, and she coughed to loosen her throat. “Why?” she asked in a voice that sounded more her own, if a bit strained.

  “To hang in my shop,” Pieter said. “I know you are attached to that sword, and I won’t sell it, but I would like to have it just the same.”

  Adrienne was torn by the unexpected request, but finally she nodded and began unbuckling the sword belt from her waist.

  “Pieter, people aren’t going to like you having a sword in your shop,” Louella pointed out. “It might hurt business.”

  Pieter grunted in acknowledgement of the petite blonde. “If people have such a problem with it, I don’t want their business. I don’t have a problem with soldiers, and Adrienne is one of us now. If they don’t like that, they can find a different blacksmith.” He gave Louella a hard look. “Do you have a problem with it?”

  Louella’s smile was beatific. “Of course not. Adrienne is my friend.” She turned her smile on Adrienne. “I would hang something of yours in my shop, but I think it might seem contradictory to have weapons in a healer’s shop.”

  “Thanks anyway,” Adrienne said awkwardly, unused to such open declarations of affection. In Kyrog, she might receive a slap on the back or a nod of approval, but Adrienne had never been part of a group that vocalized emotions.

  Maybe that was the difference between civilians and soldiers.

  Adrienne handed Pieter her old sword in its scabbard, and he unsheathed it and, keeping the sword, handed the scabbard back to her. “I don’t need this. I will buy my own.”

  Adrienne thanked him and put the scabbard back on her belt, then slid the new sword home. It fit perfectly.

  Louella clapped her hands together. “Well, I’m getting hungry,” she said brightly, breaking the tension the exchange of weapons had caused. “Let’s go get some dinner at the inn down the road aways. I’ll buy.”

  ••••••

  Adrienne scanned the grove more from habit than for any other reason. It was clear that no one but she and Louella were around, and from the look of it, Adrienne thought it had been awhile since anyone had visited the small cluster of trees two hours outside of Kessering. The sun was only halfway to its zenith, and the day was already growing insufferably hot. The shade under the trees offered some relief from the heat, but Adrienne was not looking forward to the walk back under the blazing sun.

  Louella was down on the ground, combing her fingers through the dry and brittle grass. Adrienne crouched down for a closer look and decided that there might be other plants mixed in with the grass, but she couldn’t say what they were. The only forms of vegetation she could identify were plants that would cause rashes or were poisonous to men or horses, and none of those were present here. Most other plants were a mystery to her, and Adrienne was content to let it stay that way.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked.

  “My pot of pierna has reached its limit,” Louella said, reaching into the pouch she wore for a small trowel and a stiff leather bag. “I need a fresh plant.”

  Adrienne did not know what pierna was or what it did, but she assumed it was one of the herbs Louella had been planning to collect when she had invited Adrienne to accompany her on her trip outside the city. After too many days spent doing little more than reading centuries-old books, Adrienne had readily agreed to go with Louella on her foray outside of Kessering, even if it was to collect plants in the small grove located on the otherwise featureless plains.

  “Don’t any of the other healers have some you can borrow?” she asked, looking down at the brittle plants skeptically. The twiggy plant with brownish-green leaves hardly looked worth the effort of collecting.

  “It’s best if I have my own,” Louella said. “Pierna is useful for breaking a fever and alleviating aches, especially in the bones and joints, but it works best freshly cut, not dried, so I don’t want to borrow any.”

  Adrienne didn’t know what use Louella had for herbs now. With her Talent she had little use for the various medicines used by regular healers, and what Louella could not heal with her Talent, other Talented healers could. “Aren’t there other herbs that do that?” Adrienne asked.

  “Yes, but I prefer pierna.” Louella carefully deposited the plant and rootball she had dug up into the leather bag so that it could be transplanted when she returned to her shop. “And you think I’m being ridiculous,” she said when she caught the look on Adrienne’s face.

  “I think,” Adrienne said slowly, “that were I to come down with a fever while in Kessering I would find a Talented healer to help me, not have someone dose me with pierna.”

  Louella laughed as she stood up and brushed dirt and grass from her dress. “Yes, I suppose it is habit more than anything that brings me here,” Louella said, looking around the grove. “When I was an apprentice healer, the woman I trained under would bring me out here and make me identify each of the plants and their medicinal properties.” Louella’s blue eyes looked wistful. “I guess sometimes it seems that my Talent is taking away everything I spent years learning.”

  “Don’t think that way,” Adrienne admonished. “What you can do now is amazing. Surely you don’t want to go back to stitching wounds shut and applying poultices and casts, hoping that it heals clean.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Louella said. “But think about it this way: if you discover a Talent that could be used as a weapon, a highly effective weapon, would you be happy to put away your sword in favor of it?”

  Adrienne’s hand went to the weapon in question. Just touching the hilt of the Talent-forged sword sent a tingle of power up her arm. The connection she felt to the blade Pieter had forged was palpable, and Adrienne could not imagine giving it up.

  Giving up any sword in favor of whatever Talent she might develop seemed inconceivable, yet Adrienne realized that is what Louella and the other healers were doing. Unlike Pieter, who used the skills from his profession along with his Talent to become a better blacksmith, the Talents most of the healers had developed were replacing everything they used to do.

  “I don’t know,” Adrienne said, reluctantly letting go of the sword.

  Louella offered a soft smile before heading over to root around under a dense bush, though Adrienne could not imagine what plant of any usefulness would grow in such a dark place. She leaned against a nearby tree and watched as her friend gathered plants that she no longer had a need for.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A faint breeze stirred the hair that had escaped from Adrienne’s thick black braid. Even in the open meadow breezes were rare, and Adrienne turned her face into the wind, keeping her eyes closed. She moved slowly through the familiar motions of her morning routine, welcoming the dawn of a new day as she welcomed the breeze.

  Her mind cleared, but there was not emptiness. She was aware of more than her own body. She felt the wind, the grass beneath her booted feet, the tree behind her. More than anything, she felt the magnificent blade that Pieter had forged while using his Talent resting several paces away in its scabbard against the tree. It was a beacon, and like a light it shown and brought awareness to everything around Adrienne.

  She opened her eyes, but the spell was unbroken. Even with her eyes open and her thoughts racing, she was still aware of everything around her. She could still feel her connection with the universe, the Oneness she had been searching for, like an extra sense. It was thrilling, this level of awareness without effort, and she knew that she was ready to move on to the next step in her training.

  Holding on to that se
nse of connection, Adrienne strapped on her sword and headed back to the massive library where she would find Ben. The same clerk was watching the door as usual, but he did not try to stop her as he had on some of her previous visits. He had learned that she would not be detained by the likes of him. Adrienne could sense the clerk as though he was an extension of herself, and wondered if she could really feel his resentment or if it was only her imagination.

  When she got to Ben’s study, Adrienne found him hunched over his desk, studying a scroll that was yellowed with age. His delicate features looked irritated when he asked why she was there. Adrienne knew he did not like having his studies interrupted and preferred to send for her when they were to meet outside of their set training times, but she figured that this time would be an exception

  “I’m ready to move on,” she informed him, smiling. Her connection to the universe was still firm, feeding her sensory input from everything around her. It was an exhilarating experience to feel so much, and she wondered how she had gone so long without feeling this way.

  “What?” he asked, blinking owlishly, caught between whatever he had been studying and what was happening around him now.

  “I can maintain Oneness now,” Adrienne said. “I feel connected to everything, even now, standing here talking to you.” She closed her eyes and moved unerringly to the other chair in the room. For once the chair was free of the clutter of books and parchments, and she settled herself into it before opening her eyes. “I’m ready.”

  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.