The Blending 07 - Deceptions, page 6
Embisson hadn’t felt serious pain since the trio had entered his room, and now he moved just a little in the bed to get more comfortable. He remembered clearly how bad the pain had been when that Mardimil woman had had him beaten up, and how long the pain had lasted. If this current lack of pain was any indication of the new things the peasants could do, their progress was something he had definite interest in. There really should be a way to have the new and useful without losing control, so Embisson decided to think about the problem. After all, he didn’t have much else to do right now, and as soon as Edmin freed him from capture the ideas could be put to use …
Rimen Howser drifted through the shadows of early evening, moving along the street in a way that kept him from the attention of the animals. And animals there were aplenty, including a surprising number of unaccompanied bitches. With people of true quality no longer about to show what actual humanity was, the animals paraded around pretending that they were human. But they weren’t, and Rimen knew that better than most.
A narrow alleyway appeared on Rimen’s left, so he eased into it and found a place behind trash bins to sit down for a time. It had taken him most of the day to reach this part of the city on foot, but the effort had been worth it. His right leg throbbed with pain, a reminder of the way the leg had been broken that would be with Rimen for the rest of his life. He now walked with a limp, his posture bent a bit to the left because of the way his ribs had been cracked. He no longer looked the part of true humanity the way he had before the beating, and for that the animals would pay …
Tears filled Rimen’s eyes as they did so often lately, another legacy of the beating. He’d thought he’d be so safe with guardsmen to protect him, but a great mass of animals had gathered around them all. When Rimen demanded the gold that was due one of the Seated Blending, expecting the animals to obey the way they always had, those animals had turned on him and his escort instead. The guardsmen had gone down first, most of them killed, and then the animals had dared to turn their attention to him …
Ripples of shuddering took Rimen over at the memory of that beating. It had been the worst thing ever to happen to him, and to this day he had no clear memory of how he’d managed to get home. At times he thought there had been animals who had helped rather than hurt him, but that couldn’t be. Animals did nothing but bring a man pain and disgust, and the time had come to repay the pain and ease the disgust.
Rimen smiled as he considered his plans, plans that would let him get more than just his own back. Once he would have let everyone know what was being done and who was doing it, but now secrecy was essential. Real people were no longer in charge of the city, but if the animals didn’t know who was culling their herds they couldn’t stop him. And he would not be stopped, not until he’d avenged himself a hundred times over.
Labored breathing forced Rimen to control his rage, a restraint he’d lately had to learn. Losing his temper now meant to also lose the ability to control his broken body, and Rimen simply couldn’t afford that second loss. His Water magic wasn’t very strong, but when his mind was calm he could use his fragile talent to locate the positions of people—and animals. It had become time to use that talent, and as soon as the forced calm flowed over him he did exactly that.
The small alley should have been perfect to find the first of his victims, but Rimen searched uselessly over and over again until impatient anger flashed through him. For some reason there weren’t any ragged, hungry animals seeking a nesting place in the alley, and it occurred to Rimen that he hadn’t sensed the presence of animals in the other alleys he’d passed either. At one time the streets in this part of the city had been clogged with scruffy, disgusting animals begging handouts or shuffling along looking for cast-off food or clothing. Now …
“Now they’re all pretending to be human,” Rimen muttered, disturbance and a trace of fear coloring the thought. “I’m not strong enough to face a healthy animal directly and win, so what am I to do?”
Rimen knew well enough that he had only two choices—either to give up and go back to where he’d come from, or to think of a plan that would allow him to continue on. Giving up was unthinkable, so there was nothing for it but to come up with a plan.
The alley he sat in smelled terrible, a nausea-making reek that threatened to turn his stomach. He decided it might be a good idea to find another place to do his planning, so he struggled to his feet. Standing up meant needing to lean against the wall for a moment until he caught his breath, but Rimen was almost used to the restriction. He recovered fairly quickly and was about to leave the alley, when a door abruptly opened to spill light out into the darkness.
Rimen was too far to the left of the door to be caught in the light, and then the animal that had opened the door closed it almost as quickly. But the animal had stepped out into the alley, and now staggered to the section of wall opposite the door as he groped at his clothing. A moment later Rimen heard the sound of water spilling, an increased stench in the air telling Rimen that the obviously drunken animal was relieving himself.
Outrage gripped Rimen so suddenly that he almost did his own staggering. The nerve of that animal, to come out filled with drink so that he might relieve himself in public! The action was so disgusting that Rimen’s stomach heaved, but he suddenly realized he had no time for catering to his delicate digestion. His plan was formed immediately, and just that quickly he put it into action.
Moving as quietly and swiftly as possible, Rimen drew the knife he’d taken from the house and moved up to a place behind the animal. His left hand flew to cover the animal’s mouth as his right hand thrust the knife deep into the animal’s back, and a screaming grunt was stifled against Rimen’s palm as the animal spasmed and then collapsed.
Rimen made no attempt to hold the animal erect, but instead followed it down to the ground as the knife continued to rise and fall as though Rimen’s arm had a life and will of its own. No other sounds came from the animal, which was very fortunate as Rimen’s palm was no longer over the animal’s mouth. Over and over again Rimen drove the knife deep into the animal’s body, the motion bringing Rimen such pleasure that he found it impossible to stop.
Exhaustion alone brought an end to the pleasure, and Rimen had to crawl back to the shadows in order to rest. He felt completely drained, but the sensation was one of extreme gratification and intense pleasure that was better than anything he’d ever experienced. The knife was covered in blood and probably so was he, but that mattered not at all to Rimen. The important part was that he’d begun to mete out the vengeance those animals had earned, and now had the perfect means to continue with that vengeance.
It took a number of long minutes before Rimen was able to get to his feet again and leave that alley, but his movement was no longer aimless. He would now search out taverns and inns, and await the disgusting animals in the alleys behind those loathsome establishments. When others came out to make filthy water, they would become his as easily as that first one had.
Rimen wasn’t visible in the shadows he clung to as he moved along the street, but if he had been visible an observer would have noticed the delighted smile that now covered him like a blanket …
Five
Driffin Codsent was so deeply into his own thoughts that the coach he rode in reached its destination without his being more than vaguely aware of the trip. The ride itself was faintly disturbing in that he still wasn’t used to going places by coach, but that had become the least of his worries. Today was the day he and a Spirit magic user would try to heal someone who suffered from mind sickness.
Driffin took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, wondering if he’d been kidding himself. He knew he was as good a healer as someone with only a Middle talent in Earth magic could be, but everyone around him seemed to think he was capable of miracles. In reality he knew himself to be no more than a small man who had survived on the streets for quite a long time, eventually rescuing others and helping them to survive as well. As far as doing miracles went, that should rightfully be left to High talents.
But it was some High talents who had gotten him interested in this project, and they seemed to think he could handle the job. He’d thought the same for a while, the idea of doing something new exciting him, but now that he was actually about to try that something new he had begun to develop doubts …
“Well, do you intend to sit there all day, or do you mean to come inside?” a female voice demanded, gentle humor rather than acid sarcasm behind the words. “I don’t come out to greet everyone who visits here, so you ought to be flattered.”
Driffin looked up to see that the coach had come to a stop in front of the large house that had been pressed into service by the new government. Gensie Landros stood at the bottom of the walk where his coach had stopped, and he hadn’t even noticed her approach—or the coach stopping. Gensie was the High in Spirit magic he would be working with, and although her plain brown hair and eyes added nothing to her rather plain features, the size of her talent made up for any other lacks.
“Sorry, Gensie,” Driffin said at once, trying to hide his embarrassment as he began to get out of the coach. “I shouldn’t have let my mind wander, especially not to the point of having no idea where I was or who was with me.”
By then he stood on the walk beside Gensie, but she didn’t respond immediately. She waited until the coachman started to drive the coach toward the stables at the back of the house, and then she gave her entire attention to Driffin.
“Why are you suddenly feeling so unsure of yourself, Driff?” Gensie asked, concern clearly marked on her face. “Don’t you understand yet how good you are?”
“Sure I’m good, Gensie,” Driffin answered, giving her a smile with absolutely no humor in it. It isn’t possible to hide your true feelings from a High in Spirit magic, so Driffin didn’t even try. “I’m probably the best Middle talent healer around, but what I can’t understand is how I let myself get involved with High talents. I’m not in that class and never will be.”
“No, that’s true,” Gensie granted with another version of her gentle smile. “You never will be a High talent, but there’s a fact you seem to have missed somehow. Except for Lorand Coll, you manage to be a better healer than anyone even with High talent. Don’t you know that, or is it just that you don’t believe it?”
“Where did you get that idea?” Driffin demanded, staring at the small woman. “I know that I’m usually called in to help with the more difficult cases, but that’s because I’m handy and also willing to drop what I’m doing when I’m called. How does that make me a better healer than a High talent with Earth magic?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea how it works,” Gensie returned with a dismissive shrug. “All I know is that it does work like that, and you are a more effective healer than any of the High talents. Why else do you think I dragged you into this? Because you’re handy and willing? Really, Driff, I thought you had a better opinion of me.”
Once again Driffin stared at the woman, this time wordlessly. Gensie might be a High talent in Spirit magic, but even she couldn’t lie to him. If she hadn’t been telling the truth he would have known instantly, but the truth of her words shone brightly to his talent. It took a long string of moments before he was capable of speech again, and then he shook his head helplessly.
“I think I need to sit down somewhere for a while,” he finally managed to get out, still shaking his head. “I know you believe what you just said, but I’m not up to sharing that belief yet. And the way I feel now I may never be able to believe it.”
Driffin muttered the last of his comments, but Gensie still heard it and actually laughed.
“You’re really funny, Driff,” she said, her chuckle somehow sounding deliberate. “Have you ever heard of a Middle talent who could do anything at all against a High talent? I know I haven’t, but there you stand, telling me you know I’m speaking the truth. Being able to do that doesn’t give you the hint that you can do other things as well?”
Driffin lost the ability to speak again, but the pained look on his face must have told Gensie that he hadn’t been joking about needing to sit down. Instead of continuing the discussion she put an arm around his shoulders and led him up the walk to the broad steps of the house, and then took him inside.
The house was really rather large, almost as large as the one where Driffin had healed the former noble of the stab wound that was about to kill him. There were a couple of people dressed like servants in the wide front hall, but when they smiled and nodded to Driffin he realized that they were both High talents in Earth magic.
“We need various High talents here to help with the residents, but it would hardly be wise to advertise what they are,” Gensie murmured as she led him to the left of the hall, toward a discreetly closed door. “The people residing here may be disturbed in one way or another, but they aren’t stupid.”
No, the people in that house weren’t stupid, Driffin knew, just terribly confused. They seemed to have an instability inside them that being allowed to use their talent had … freed, it might be easiest to say. The instability took different forms, some milder than others, but being taught how to use talent made all of them dangerous.
“I still don’t really understand why we have this problem,” Driffin said as Gensie led the way into a small room that was comfortably furnished with chairs and hand tables and not much else. “Why would two people, with the same abilities and the same opportunity, react so differently?”
“Why does the same thing happen even when talent isn’t involved?” Gensie countered, speaking over her shoulder as she headed for a large tea service. “You’ve told me how you lived on the street, spending a lot of effort helping others. Did everyone who lived on the street do the same?”
“Some of them had been too badly hurt to be interested in helping others,” Driffin answered soberly, remembering those times with a small inner shudder. “It was all they could do to keep themselves safe, and what they’d gone through made that the most important effort of their lives. They couldn’t bring themselves to the point of understanding that other people had been hurt just as badly.”
“Sometimes I think it’s lack of imagination that hurts certain people the most,” Gensie said, paying only partial attention to the cup of tea she filled. “They know their own hurts and troubles well enough, but can’t see that others suffer from the same. I wonder if that’s what being self-centered is all about.”
“Some people are self-centered because they were raised to be like that,” Driffin said, walking over to take the cup of tea Gensie had poured. “At one time I thought only the nobles were like that, but I quickly learned better. You’d see a small child blasting through people and things at the market, and the child’s parent would be right there, making excuses about why the child was doing as it pleased. You don’t have to beat a young one to teach it how to behave, but too many people don’t seem to understand that.”
“That’s very likely what’s wrong with our first patient,” Gensie said, a sigh accompanying the bleak look in her eyes. “He’s actually a Low in Earth magic, but once he finished the training class he somehow made better use of his talent than some Middles. He started a ‘health protection’ business, first bringing people almost to the point of a heart attack. Once he released them and they recovered, he told them they would stay ‘healthy’ if they paid him a certain amount of silver on a regular basis. He didn’t think anyone would have the nerve to report him—or that anything would be done if they did—but he was wrong.”
“Only because the new government actually cares about what happens to people,” Driffin replied with a frown as he sipped the hot tea, studying the idea that had just come to him. “It’s a really big change in attitude from what the nobles showed, and makes all the difference. If there was some way we could change that patient’s attitude …”
Driff let the words trail off as he stared at Gensie, asking the question without actually speaking it. She was a High in Spirit magic, after all, and ought to know what was and wasn’t possible.
“I think you’re onto something, but I’m not quite sure what that is,” Gensie answered slowly, staring at him in the same way. “How would we change the man’s attitudes?”
“Well, it seems to me that how we act depends on what we remember about what we learned as children,” Driff replied slowly, putting the odd idea straight in his mind as he also put it into words. “If we remember being smacked the couple of times we tried to run wild, we may feel the urge to run wild but we don’t act on it. But if we remember nothing unpleasant happening …”
“Yes, yes, that’s it, I think,” Gensie said at once, a new enthusiasm burning in her eyes. “If we can change those memories we can change their attitudes, but it won’t be an easy process for the patient. Do you think you can keep them stable while I rearrange their past lives?”
“The only way to know is to try it,” Driff said, eagerness also growing in hint. “If anything goes wrong we can stop at once, and then undo what was done, can’t we? If we can’t undo it, we really shouldn’t start at all.”
“Oh, yes, I can undo anything I do,” Gensie assured him, and once again Driff could tell she wasn’t lying. “Let’s go see how it works.”
Driff finished his tea in a single gulp before putting the cup down and following Gensie out of the room. It came to him fleetingly that he’d wanted to sit down, but for some reason the urge wasn’t there any longer. He still felt vaguely nervous about being part of such an important project, but the eagerness that had risen pushed the nervousness aside.
Gensie went back out into the front hall, then led the way up the wide stairs to the second floor. There were people dressed as servants up here as well, but only some of them were actually working. The others seemed distantly alert, so they must be High talents keeping tabs on some of the house’s residents. Most of the doors to either side of the long hall were closed, and Gensie ignored them as she led the way to what was apparently a sitting area in the midst of the rooms.
