Truth - Hidden Truth Part 15

Alissa looked to the sky. Dawn was only moments away. Breakfast would be late to the practice room. She didn't care. "Do you suppose you might tell me how to finish the task?" she asked, sure now the answer would be yes.

Useless blinked. "Er-make a field around it. That's all that's needful at this point. The rest is instinctive-I think. But, Alissa? Use an impervious field. You will want all of your source, not just what a permeable field will retain."

"But Keepers don't know them," Alissa said, beginning to form the complex containment field. "How would they properly bind their source if they ... they ..." Her thought melted to nothing as her field became complete. The exterior world grayed to an absolute as she plunged deep into her thoughts, feeling out of control, but knowing she was more aware than she had ever been before. All that remained was her glittering source. As irreversible as two drops of water coming together, it merged with her unconscious self, humming into every corner, backwashing at every turn, defining the edges of her existence with the tang of glittering tingles. She had thought it hers before. It hadn't been, but it was now.

With a frightening wrench, her source collapsed back into its more familiar vision of a shimmering sphere set somewhere between her thoughts and reality. It was positively the most glorious sight, and it could never be taken away. Ever.

Alissa opened her eyes, struggling to focus. Useless was sitting before the fire, his long fingers laced about his cup, hiding it. As she straightened from her slump, he turned to her. "How-how long was I out?" she mumbled, seeing the day was noticeably closer.

"Not long," he rea.s.sured her. "Feel better?" His gaze went distant to the horizon, tactfully giving her time to find her bearings with a modic.u.m of privacy.

"Rather," she answered wisely, shaking off her daze. Slowly, she loosened her cramped and stiff fingers from around the empty bag, looping it over her head from long habit.

"Alissa?" There was deep concern in his voice. "Be careful. What you have accomplished this morning was needful, but it also put you into greater peril. You have my permission to explore permeable fields freely on your own. Bailic moves too quickly, but you may try what he requests of Strell concerning fields and wards." His eyebrows rose. "I expect you will be most careful. I'm sure the wards won't be anything to give Strell much strength and so will be innocuous enough."

Alissa's eyes widened, and the last of her contented daze vanished in surprise. This was the most leeway he had ever given her. And she hadn't even had to ask!"Be sure to keep at least a raku's length between you and Bailic when practicing alone," he continued. "He will feel you create a ward if he is closer than that, and unless Strell is nearby to take the blame, Bailic will realize it's you. Think up and down as well as horizontal," he admonished. "You can set a field and ward in place anywhere within a raku length of your person. When performing in the piper's stead, be sure you remain at least that close to them both. That way Bailic will sense the creation of your wards and a.s.sume it's Strell."

She nodded, hearing in his words his desire to be gone.

"Very well," he said firmly, "where is that bird? I want to play." Useless scanned the skies. He gave a little jump and turned to the thick shrubbery and the unseen door of the kitchen beyond. His eyebrows rose, and he took a breath to say something but then shook his head and smiled. "Behave yourself," he said as he stepped out of the firepit. In a swirl of gray, he shifted to the form he had been sired as.

"Wait!" Alissa cried, and ran up to him, stopping short at his feet, shocked again at how big he was as a winged monstrosity. She couldn't help her gasp as he dropped his head to see her better. His fathomless, golden eyes were as large as her head, stunning in their depth. Alissa could almost forget his sharp teeth and creased hide. "Thanks," she mumbled, feeling her face redden as she gave his neck a quick, embarra.s.sed hug.

He arched his neck back, blinking in an obvious surprise, and she added, "For-for coming back that first night. For teaching me," she fumbled. "For not..." Alissa paused, thoroughly miserable in her lack of finesse. How do you thank someone who not only opens the door to your potential but then rips it from its hinges so it can never be shut again?

Useless dropped his head, filling her senses with the warm scent of wood smoke. He couldn't speak aloud in his present form, which was probably just as well. His teeth showing in what was undoubtedly a smile, he pointed a wicked-looking talon to the firepit, and she obediently backed up. There was a last, long, unfathomable look, then Useless departed, raising twin maelstroms of snow and ice and last year's leaves.

She was left behind, nailed to the earth among the weeds, watching as Talon screeched defiantly and dove at him. Beating his wings furiously, Useless struggled for height, lashing his hind foot out when Alissa's tiny defender got near. He rose above the Hold, turning a luminescent gold from the sun that had yet to reach the tower.

Alissa dismally turned away and slowly knocked the fire apart using the stick she kept for the purpose. True, an impervious field would have put it out faster, but, as Useless would have said, not needful. Grabbing the empty pot, three cups, and her extinguished candle, she made her somber way to the kitchen. Behind her was the whoosh of Useless's pa.s.sage and the screams of her bird. They were being noisy today, almost as if they didn't care if they were noticed. Alissa just hoped Bailic didn't see Useless. The fallen Keeper wasn't blind after all, just ill of sight.

Rounding a turn in the path, Alissa almost ran into the suspicious man himself. "What?" she stammered, gazing in shock at his tall figure, thin and black against the snow. "What are you doing out here?"

Chapter 17.

"What was what I was going to ask you, my dear." Bailic A squinted into the sky, bright with thenewly risen sun, tracking Useless and Talon's motion through the air behind her.

Chilled, Alissa clasped her coat closer, desperately glad she had heeded Useless's warning to behave and extinguished her fire mundanely. It would have been over right then had she gone back on her promise and Bailic noticed. Restraint and self-control, she thought fervently. Such a small thing between success and failure, life and death.

She winced at Talon's screams and wondered if Bailic had seen anything. Then her resolve firmed.

She had done nothing wrong. She could be in the garden if she wanted. It might look questionable, but he couldn't prove a thing- could he?

"We were worried," Bailic said tightly. "Let me help you into the kitchen with your-tea."

She extended the empty pot, and his watering eyes flicked to the three cups in her hand, one cracked from its impromptu flight. "Those are Talo-Toecan's cups," he said, drawing back in a mix of anger and alarm. "He was with you?"

Tossing her head, she brushed past him, her eyes on the kitchen door. "He likes my tea," she said over her shoulder. "He sports with Talon. We talk."

Bailic hastened after her. "You give him messages?"

Alissa nervously kicked open the door. "Talo-Toecan wouldn't break his word." The proper name for her instructor felt odd upon her lips, but she couldn't call him Useless before Bailic. It was so undignified.

Seeming to regain his confidence, Bailic followed her in. "He generally finds a way to circ.u.mvent it, regardless." With a final glance outside, he pulled the door shut, sealing out the morning light and setting them in the twilight of the cooking fire. Alissa's last sight was of Useless, spinning madly in an attempt to outmaneuver Talon. Her bird was getting quite good, she mused, until a harsh sound from Bailic brought her back to earth. She, too, would have to do some quick maneuvering to get out of her latest spot.

She knew she should be worried but couldn't find it in herself to be. Useless had known Bailic was there on the path. That's what his surprised look toward the kitchen had been, and why he told her to behave, and why he was so obvious in his cavortings this morning. Still, caution was warranted, and Alissa frowned as she hung her coat and hat by the hearth.

Deciding to volunteer nothing, she swiftly prepared a tray for three. Bailic leaned upon the mantel and watched her, making her fingers slip and drop things. "Here, allow me," he said, intercepting her reach for a fresh pot of tea. "You have had a busy morning already, my dear."

Unease settled over her as Bailic carried the tray up to the narrow practice room. She walked beside him, empty-handed, beginning to worry that Useless's confidence had been misplaced. Bailic had all but ignored her for the better part of three months. Ever since gaining possession of her book, it was as if she didn't exist. Whenever they did exchange words, it was, "You there," or, "Girl." Now she was back to, "My dear," and she could almost smell the 'ware fires burning.

Her fears were confirmed when, upon reaching the fourth-floor landing, he needlessly stopped to rest at the window there. She couldn't very well leave him, and so she was forced to wait. "What an interesting pouch," he said. "Odd. I never noticed it before."

Before she could stop herself, Alissa's hand rose to clutch it possessively. She had forgotten to tuck it out of sight. Mentally kicking herself, she tried to make her actions more natural and changed the motion to that of removing the sack from around her neck. It was empty. What harm could it do to let him see it now? "It was a gift," she said. "Want to see it?"

"Yes." He set the tray on the sill with a clattering of dishes and held out his white hand. It was hard to let the ratty cord slip from her fingers and drop the bag into Bailic's grasp. It had held her source, her willalmost, for so long it was hard to accept that it was really empty. "A gift, you say?" Bailic murmured, his smile going wise. "But it's empty." He traced her mother's initials with a thin finger, his manner distant and knowing.

An uneasy feeling slid through Alissa as he handed the bag back. She could hear Talon screeching, sounding loud even through the ward on the window. Bailic turned and picked up the tray. Feeling as if she had let something slip, Alissa followed, holding herself a step behind him.

"Here she is, Piper," Bailic called, blinking at the glare of the sun-filled chamber. "Safe and sound, just as I predicted."

"Safe and sound?" Strell jumped up from a far window, relief flashing across him. "You said she had probably tripped over her feet and fallen halfway to the kitchen!"

"A jest, my dear." Bailic simpered as he placed the tray on the empty table.

Strell choked back his next outburst, probably recognizing how Bailic had addressed her. She shrugged helplessly as Strell met her worried eyes. Bailic was too confident. He was up to something.

"She was downstairs dallying the morning away," Bailic continued. "But here she is. And with tea!"

Showing a meticulous care, Bailic poured the strong brew into all three cups. Feeling ill, Alissa sat stiffly in her chair. Strell, grim and wary, sat in his. Bailic sat on the window bench with his back to the sun and watched them both with an expectant arch to his eyebrows.

"You forgot your cup!" Bailic exclaimed, and he leapt up to play the congenial host. Alissa's eyes lowered as he drew close, and the small click of the cup touching the bench beside her made her tense.

"Or have you had enough tea already?" he finished dryly.

With a roar that shivered the tea in the cups, Useless skimmed past the windows. Bailic dropped to the floor with a half-recognized curse. Strell's cup slipped from him, tea spilling in a fantastic pattern. He lunged after it, missing. The cup fell off the table. There was no crash of pottery.

For a moment, no one moved. Slowly, Alissa leaned to look under the table. Strell did the same.

Bailic was already on the floor. All three of them gazed in wonder at the cup, hanging in midair as if, well, by magic, or in this case, a containment field. It wasn't her, it couldn't be Strell, and obviously it wasn't Bailic. That left only one presence.

"Talo-Toecan!" Bailic got to his feet and stared at the ceiling. "Leave. Or our agreement is ended!"

There was a snort of amus.e.m.e.nt from the roof, and the cup hit the floor to crack in two. "What has gotten into him, buzzing the tower like a demented bat," Bailic snarled, tugging his gray shirt straight.

"It wasn't agreed he had to shun the Hold, only Strell," Alissa said sharply. Bailic whipped about, his eyes glinting dangerously. Wolves, she thought, a breath too late. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut?

Bailic pointed a shaky finger at her. "You're right."

Strell, who had been kneeling on the floor, silently sopping up the tea, cleared his throat in warning.

At that instant, there was a tug on Alissa's thoughts as someone nearby used their tracings. A fourth cup materialized silently next to the pot. Almost, Alissa could hear Useless laughing in her thoughts. Then his shadow raced across the snow, and he was gone.

Bailic must have felt the pull on his tracings as well, for his lips curled in disgust as he noticed the new addition, but with a shuddering breath, he caught his temper, hiding it.

Not sure what to think, Alissa took up her mending left yesterday between the cushions. There was a clatter of broken pottery on the tray followed by the creak of a chair, and Strell, too, was in his place.

Bailic began to pace before the windows, speaking in his best lecturing voice as if nothing had happened.

"As you have been told uncountable times, Piper, fields can serve three purposes."Alissa tried to ignore him. Bailic was as interesting as an argument on the proper weather in which to plant beets. As her fingers shifted her needle in the rhythmic, soothing dance of repair, her thoughts drifted, predictably settling on her lesson this morning and her success in gaining permission to manipulate fields unchaperoned. It was an odd feeling, asking leave to do something that was so much a part of her, but over the past weeks, Useless had impressed her quite thoroughly about the dangers of experimenting on her own. Her disastrous attempt to remove Useless's ward last fall had clarified his arguments, and she was quite prepared to listen. She trusted him implicitly, almost more than she trusted herself.

The only thing they continually disagreed upon was the speed of her progress, or in her eyes, the lack thereof. Useless countered each of her arguments with skill and finesse, leaving her wondering why she hadn't seen it his way in the first place. For Useless, she would be patient, polite, and well mannered. But her newfound reasonableness, as Strell called it, seldom extended any farther than the shallow pit in the garden. Try as she might, her temper still got the better of her. Strell, though, took it in stride. In fact, she swore he sometimes riled her on purpose.

Lost as she was in her sewing and thoughts, she was ill prepared when Bailic's hand slammed the table. Alissa jumped, painfully stabbing her finger.

"Come now, Piper," Bailic nearly snarled in frustration. "It's not that difficult!"

Finger in her mouth, she looked at Strell. He had hidden his clenched fists under the table, trying to hide his repressed anger. Alissa glanced at his mutilated right hand, thinking there might be some fright mixed in as well. "I'm trying," Strell grated. "Perhaps if you showed me what you want I would understand."

Bailic rubbed a hand through his rigidly short hair. Abruptly he spun and strode to the table where he kept her book, maddeningly near. Ignoring it, he opened a drawer and took out a small box. Three sharp steps later he had it on the window seat and was lifting the lid.

Alissa put her needle down and leaned forward to see. Dust? she thought in astonishment. It was dust, the same stuff domestics fight all their lives to eradicate. Apart from the stables, it was the first she had seen since she left home. The common areas of the Hold were kept blessedly dust free under a nightly sweep of a still-functioning ward. Yet, here was a box of it.

Bailic took a healthy pinch, shut the lid, and much to her amazement, blew the dust into the air. The sun streaming in through the tall windows was suddenly full of breathtaking sparkles. "Pay attention,"

Bailic snapped, a harsh counterpoint to the visual delight he had created. With no warning, a section of sunbeam coalesced into a small sphere as the dust inside was packed closer under the obvious influence of a field. Abruptly it was released; the motes were again free. "Now you," he commanded as he sat stiffly on the bench, pointedly watching them both.

Strell sighed and stared at the shimmering blocks of sun.

A flash of excitement went through Alissa. She had permission; she could help Strell. For a moment she considered the hows and whys. It was only a field. It was different from catching a milkweed puff, but not that different. Trying to look interested but not intense, she focused her awareness around a small section of sunbeam. Her field shrank and gained definition. A globe of shimmering dust hung in the air, looking like a spot of sun. "Strell!" she shouted, simultaneously dropping the field. "You did it!"

"I did!" he said, his eyes wide. "I really did!" He smiled, and Alissa beamed proudly.

Bailic shifted on the hard bench. "So it would appear."

He opened the box again, and taking a handful of dust, he flung it into the air. The sunlight glinted, thick with the fine powder. Too light to settle directly, it eddied and swirled, making the room seem to glow. A field went up, larger than any Alissa had held before, almost encompa.s.sing the room. It quickly shrank, and Alissa shivered as she imagined she felt an eerie sensation as it pa.s.sed through her. Soon itwas the size of a pumpkin. She thought Bailic was done, but the field began to shift and change.

Strell's mouth dropped open, and Alissa blinked in surprise. A face was taking shape in the dust.

Alissa looked at Bailic, not believing he was the cause of it, only to be stunned by his expression of entrancement. The lines of anger were gone. A wistful look was in his pale eyes. Grace and refinement, dignity and ease; this was the man he could have been had his revenge not led him to empty the Hold.

Reluctantly, Alissa returned her attention to his sculpture. It was a woman, she decided as it gained definition. Young, almost a girl, with a single long braid. She had a narrow chin and a laughing mouth. She looked familiar, and Alissa leaned forward. It was her-her mother!

"Who is she?" Strell asked, jerking Alissa back to herself. Her face went cold, and she shrank into the cushions. She had been a heartbeat away from telling Bailic exactly whose child she was. Strell had saved her again, but how did Bailic know what her mother looked like? Alissa's thoughts returned to Bailic's sly manner in the hall and his finger tracing the initials on her bag. Bailic knew her mother?

Shocked, Alissa put her hand to her middle.

"She's no one," Bailic said through a slow exhalation. His smile was gentle as he raised his hand to touch his vision. Just before contact, his eyes went hard, and his arm dropped. The containment field collapsed, and the dust diffused into a shimmering pool of shattered desire.

"Now," Bailic said bitterly, "I will eat, and you," he pointed at Strell, "will practice." s.n.a.t.c.hing a roll of bread, he settled into his chair and watched Strell with intent eyes.

Feeling shaken and ill, Alissa tentatively began making fields, letting each one dissolve before beginning the next. Strell had his eyes fixed to the sunbeam, playing his part well. Whether his fascinated look was contrived or not, she couldn't tell; it was a curious sight. Alissa was watching, too, as any interested observer might. It was monotonous though, and after a time she picked up her stockings and began to st.i.tch, one eye on her fingers, one eye on Strell. Her fields needed no chaperoning; she knew what they were doing.

As she worked, a whisper of presence slipped stealthily into her uppermost thoughts, almost unrecognizable. The slight pressure was easy to ignore, but it increased to a niggling tickle. Perhaps Useless had returned and was calling her. Frowning, she set her st.i.tching aside to look out the window.

The eerie feeling vanished, leaving her uneasy.

Too much going on this morning, she thought, rubbing her hand over her eyes and gazing out over the wooded valley below. Ese' Nawoer's rooftops glinted in the sun, barely visible behind the trees at this low height. A cloud bank was building, and she wondered if it was going to snow again. It never seemed to stop. The sun, though, was warm and comforting, so she resettled herself and resumed her work.

But the feeling slowly crept back. With a sudden revulsion, Alissa recognized the dusky sliver of thought as Bailic's. She froze for a horrified instant, then forced her fingers to resume their work. It was a struggle not to react, to drive him from her with a blistering thought. If Bailic realized she could sense him, he would know she was the Keeper. Apparently he wasn't satisfied with Strell's latest performance and was trying to reach her thoughts.

What the Wolves is Bailic doing? she thought. Useless a.s.sured her Bailic couldn't see her tracings or hear her thoughts. With a slow, even breath, she recalled her mother's teachings and relaxed, but he was as hard to ignore as a spider on her arm. Her eyes fixed upon on her sewing, she continued making and collapsing the fields.

Easy, she thought. Find that calm, still point. If Bailic saw her insulted anger, it would be over.

Finally, he withdrew. None to soon, either, for the longer he stayed, the harder it was not to drive him out. She disguised her shudder by stretching. But then she got to thinking. Perhaps she could send aquesting thought out, too? If Bailic noticed, he would a.s.sume it was Strell. Useless hadn't said she couldn't. What harm could it do?

Alissa gave a warning cough to Strell to let him know she was going to try something. His foot tapped out the beat to a song she recognized, and she bit her lip in an effort not to smile. It was from a child's jumping rhyme called, "I'm Ready If You Are." Mindful of her dual role, Alissa continued her mending as her thoughts went out, a whisper of awareness barely recognizable even to her. Curious as to her limits, she first went to Strell.

That's interesting, she mused, for she couldn't make any sense of the emotion she found. She lingered, trying to sort through the confusion of conflicting sensations, puzzling until her perceptions seemed to shift ninety degrees and fall into place. With a jolt, Alissa realized Strell was worried to the point of distraction.

She glanced at him, startled by his casual slouch. It was as if his only care was the small spheres of dust, shimmering in the sun. His toe, however, was moving ever so slowly, tracing a small arc on the floor. It was the only show of his worry. Frowning, she looked deeper. Beneath that was a darker emotion. This one she recognized easily. It was fear, but not for him, no. It was for her and what she might be planning!

Face scarlet, she withdrew, bending her attention back to her stockings. She had no business poking about Strell's emotions as if they were wares on display. His turmoil was anything but obvious, but Alissa could see it now that she knew it was there.

She couldn't do this! she thought taking a chill. Strell didn't even know what she planned, yet had agreed to suffer the consequences if anything went wrong. She had never realized what failure might mean until she saw his near panic. And it wasn't even for him. He was more concerned about her after Bailic killed him, than about himself being killed. Ashes! What the Wolves had she been thinking!

Alissa forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to keep her fingers steady as she laced another shaky st.i.tch into her stockings. Her curiosity was going to be the death of them both. Immediately, she yawned to tell Strell she had changed her mind. His foot became still. Slowly his posture changed until he was truly relaxed. He actually sighed, seeming to droop. Alissa glanced at her work, wincing as she realized she would have to take it all out and start over.

"Piper," Bailic shouted, causing them both to jump. Alissa allowed the field she was holding to collapse as if in surprise. "You aren't thinking of falling asleep again, are you?" he drawled in his most insulting voice.

"No," Strell said darkly, hiding his right hand under his left.

Bailic sauntered closer, his gold sash furling about his ankles. "Once more," he demanded, hands aggressively on the table.

Alissa couldn't help but form a tiny field, just before his nose.

"Enough!" he snapped, squashing her field with his own. It disappeared with a sharp pop. The sudden emptiness hurt. She gasped, quickly turning it into a sneeze. It was, after all, rather dusty. Hiding her face, she fumbled for a cloth.

"That wasn't necessary, Bailic," Strell croaked hoa.r.s.ely, recognizing her sneeze for what it was and feigning to be hurt.

Bailic's attention went back to Strell, and the fallen Keeper leaned across the table until he was a hand's breath from Strell. The dust glowed and danced about them, adding an unreal feel to the frozen tableau. Alissa sneezed again, a real one this time, and the dust vanished. All three froze in the sudden change. Thinking she had unintentionally done something, she panicked."The sun is gone," Bailic said irately as he straightened. "Your lesson is almost done."