Truth - Hidden Truth Part 19

Feeling left behind, she stood and watched as he circled the tower, thoughtfully replacing the ward on the window before he left.

Chapter 22.

"Wake, child."

It was a soft whisper in her thoughts, but Alissa was warm, so she ignored it.

"Wake. I'm here," it came again.

"No," she mumbled, burrowing down among her blankets, determined to remain asleep. She was having such a nice dream, about a warm sea. It was the third such dream this week.

"Alissa." It was loud and impatient. "Wake up."

"Go away, Strell. I'm fine," she said around a sigh.

"Strell?" the voice thought incredulously. "I'm not Strell. Wake up!"

The last word was a veritable shout in her mind, and Alissa jumped. Her room was empty except for Talon, blinking at her from her perch. From habit, Alissa looked to see if her ward of disguise was still in place. It was. It had been weeks since waking to find it gone. Pleased, Alissa tugged her blanket over her shoulders and rose. "Looks like I have another lesson," she whispered to Talon as she minced barefoot to her shutters.

The cold p.r.i.c.ked at her nose and slipped under her blanket as she leaned out into the night, or perhaps it was early morning. It was hard to tell. By the waxing, crescent moon rising, she thought morning. The stars that did show were few and becoming fewer as the snow clouds that threatened all of yesterday finally reached the Hold.

She took a deep breath and exhaled, watching her breath steam as it met the cold air. Though spring was officially two weeks away, the dampness held a hint of it, filling her with a thrill of expectation. Spring had always been her favorite time of the year.

"When you're through tasting the night, come to the garden," arose Useless's dry thought.

"A moment," she thought back. Once intermittent and not under conscious control, her skills at voiceless speech at a distance were improving. She could now hear Useless and be heard as she wished despite the Hold's ward of silence. When she had asked Useless about this incongruity during her intense lesson on nonverbal speech, he had abruptly changed the subject, saying only that Bailic ought not to be able to hear her, even if she should go past the ward's boundaries, and not to worry about it. His put-offs were happening a lot lately, and she was tiring of them.

Lately, their meetings were sporadic and unpredictable, as Useless had begun holding cla.s.s wheneverthe mood struck him. Her lessons were delightfully more frequent, but they invariably occurred in the dead of night. Alissa didn't care when they met as long as they did. Judging by the lack of acorns, Lodesh's visits had stopped completely, and she hoped she hadn't gotten the Warden in trouble.

She dressed for the cold with as much haste as she could. Useless would let her light the fire if she hurried. "Coming?" she asked Talon. The bird fluffed her feathers and sank down, her bright eyes closing. "Last chance," Alissa warned as she slipped her luck charm into her pocket and her feet into her boots. Apparently it was too early for a game of chase, and so Alissa left. If Talon wanted, she could still leave by the hole Alissa had notched out in her shutters.

Ghosting down the hall, Alissa ran a finger over Strell's door in pa.s.sing, wishing him peaceful dreams.

He looked so tired lately, blaming it upon restless sleep. The Hold was silent; only the small sounds of her boots disturbed the darkness as she made her confident way. She caught sight of herself in the mirror at the landing and paused, having to lean close to see in the dark.

"Mother would never recognize me," Alissa said, feeling a stab of homesickness. Dressed as she was in such fine clothes, she looked far from the foothills-raised girl she was. Practically everything she had on was new, crafted from materials of an almost unreal quality. There was no second-rate fabric to be found in the annexes. As a result, her clothes had none of the usual telltale signs of foothill frugality. They were extravagant, making her at least look like a well-mannered lady. Only her ugly boots, her coat, and Strell's dilapidated hat remained of her old clothes, and eyeing the hat sourly, she resolved to do something about it-someday.

"Student..." Useless called wearily.

"I'm coming!" Alissa ran down the remaining stairs. Slipping into the dark kitchen, she filled a teapot with water. Two cups were next, and she skidded out into the darkness, her coat flapping loose about her ankles. Useless could supply either piece of crockery, but the kitchen was full of them, all distressingly alike. They didn't need any more.

The night was marginally lighter than the halls, and it was bitterly cold. Alissa hurried down the path's frozen turns until she was before Useless. The fire was yet unlit. She had made it in time.

"Good morning, student," Useless intoned seriously, his voice rumbling through the dark. "Would you care to light the fire?"

"Good morning, Useless. Yes, I would, thank you." Grinning like an idiot, Alissa formed a containment field about the wood. An immeasurable moment later, energy slipped coolly through her thoughts, creating a ward that set the very molecules of the wood vibrating so rapidly they ignited. Well, that's what Useless said; she only knew it worked. The first time she had tried it, the wood was consumed in a startling instant. Useless had harrumphed, thrown more wood on the ash, and told her to try again. Her control was improving, though, and tonight her fire began with a satisfying whoosh.

Pleased, Alissa waited until the blue-hot flame shifted to its more normal orange before she set the pot to boil.

"Quite nice." Useless edged closer to the flames. "Very efficient use of your resources. Just enough and no more. Have you been practicing?"

She nodded.

Useless sat and closed his eyes. "It shows."

Glowing from the praise, Alissa sat as well. She kept her eyes open, however, eager for whatever tonight's lesson might entail. Each midnight session brought her closer to what she imagined a Keeper was capable of. It seemed the more she knew, the easier everything became. But it was never enough.

She always left hungry for more of Useless's teachings.

The water slowly warmed, and Alissa waited, knowing there would be no instruction until Uselesshad a cup of tea in his long fingers. She could have made the water boil now as quickly as Lodesh, but she didn't. Patience, Useless would say. Use the time given you. Instant gratification teaches nothing and cheats yourself. So she sat, trying not to watch the pot. Instead, Alissa gazed up at the star aptly named after the Navigator, the hub of the night sky. It was disappearing behind the thickening clouds, and she held her breath to see if it would show itself before she needed to breathe again.

Much to her relief, Useless hadn't ever brought up her "error in judgment" in allowing Lodesh to impart the theory behind wards of creation. Her teacher's attempt at punishment had failed miserably, and Alissa thought he was reluctant to discuss the incident at all, preferring to let sleeping rakus lie. If the truth be told, he hadn't answered any of her questions concerning what she had seen down in the Hold's cellar, spouting a dazzling plenitude of double-talk and jargon that left her blinking in shock. Alissa had been hesitant to ask again, not wanting to subject herself to such a disgraceful display of twaddle a second time, but she had one burning question she hoped he'd explain.

"Useless?" Alissa's breath slipped out to obscure the now-visible star.

"Yes, Alissa?"

"Down in the cavern," she lowered her gaze, "that pool of water..."

"The cistern, yes," he prompted warily, opening his eyes.

Alissa straightened, encouraged. "There were names engraved upon it?"

"Yes. The names of Masters." Useless's golden brown eyes went softly into the past.

"There weren't very many," she said. "Rakus have been around since mankind can remember. I would have thought there would be uncountable more."

Useless smiled faintly. "They are names of Masters, not rakus."

"They aren't the same?"

"They are, and they aren't."

Patiently she waited.

"The names inscribed on the cistern are only the last seven generations of rakus," he said. "Before that, we couldn't read or write."

"You were all feral?" she said with a gasp.

Useless chuckled. "By my Master's Wolves, no! We have been sentient for as long as mankind, perhaps more. But it has only been the last few generations we acquired the wisdom to shift to a form that can hold a pen and focus upon paper. Our weaker kin has given us a great gift, and we have striven to repay it by instructing those who possess a partially functional neural net on the use of it. The names you saw are Masters, not rakus. They're inscribed only after the first shift to a human form has been accomplished. Until then, their names are only a promise."

"Still, there were so few...." she pressed.

"Sentient or not, we're still carnivores, and large ones at that. The surrounding land can only support so many of us."

She thought about that, recalling her mother's small flock of sheep and the constant threat of inbreeding it posed. "Doesn't that," she stammered, feeling constrained, but needing to know. "Doesn't that pose a problem, with- with who you may join with?"

Useless politely ignored her blush. "Yes," he said with a sigh. "It does. We keep a close record of ancestral ties, and there is the occasional new bloodline that usually results in a slight population explosion.""New bloodline?"

"Yes." Only now did he seem uncomfortable.

"The feral beasts?" she asked, remembering Connen-Neute.

"Ah-no," he muttered. "Unions between Masters are often prearranged far before maturity is reached," he said, clearly changing the subject.

"Marriages of convenience are barbaric," Alissa interrupted. Strell held a similar belief, and she wondered if the plains tradition stemmed from here.

Useless eyed her warily. "Be that as it may, it's a necessity. No one has complained yet. The two intended are schooled together. They're usually pleased with the situation. If not, changes are made. Our population is ... ah ... wasn't so small that mobility was nonexistent."

Alissa nodded, surprised he had explained it so fully. It wasn't often he imparted anything concerning his background. She had one last question though, and she stirred uncomfortably.

Useless sighed. "Yes, Alissa?"

"The circled names?" she asked, her eyes on the ground.

"They went feral. Yes."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wishing she hadn't asked.

Again silence fell. The water began to steam, and seeming ready to forget the matter, Useless reached for the pot and asked pleasantly, "How goes Strell's tutelage?"

"Very well, as you probably guessed." Relieved he hadn't turned despondent as he usually did upon recalling his feral kin, Alissa drew her legs up under her and arranged her coat so more of her was under its concealing warmth. "Bailic has covered myriad minor wards in quick succession as you predicted."

Useless gave her a curious, sidelong glance. "His instruction follows his own training, but he goes dangerously fast, seeking to find what triggers my book. He incorrectly imagines if Strell knows enough, the book will open to him, allowing access to its lessons."

The mention of her book sent a thrill through her. It was rare she could pry any information from Useless about it. She forced her features to be casual, fearing he would say no more if he knew how interested she was. "So, what does open it?" she asked, poking at the fire in a vain attempt to appear nonchalant.

"Right now, it's you," he said softly. "You could have opened it the day you found it." Reaching for the stone box of tea he kept secreted in the bench, he added a generous handful to the steaming water.

"Knowledge," he said regretfully, "means nothing to it, only potential." He sat back and closed his eyes, unaware of or more likely disregarding the effect his words had.

Confused and hurt, she frowned. She had thought it closed to her. She could have snitched uncountable times. Bailic had it out almost every morning, tantalizingly near on that small table by his stiff-looking chair. "Why didn't you tell me before?" she asked in a small voice.

"You hadn't the willpower to resist, had you known." Useless smiled. "You do now."

Alissa went to protest, then closed her mouth. He was right. She would have s.n.a.t.c.hed it. Bailic would have realized she was the latent Keeper. They would have ended up dead. Still, being second-guessed was infuriating.

Ignoring her sour expression, Useless poured out the tea. His eyes meeting hers over his cup were glinting in amus.e.m.e.nt. He settled back, his long fingers laced about the cup. A few flakes of snow began to sift down. "I'll teach you a small oddity tonight," he said suddenly. "You may find it of interest as youcreep along at Bailic's pace. Mayhap it will come in handy." His eyebrows furrowed in warning. "Just don't rely on it."

"I thought you said Bailic goes too fast," Alissa said as an obscure portion of her tracings began to resonate in response to his ward. Quickly, she memorized the pattern.

"He does," was his short answer. "Now this," he continued, "is a ward of obscurity, and it helps to keep you from notice. It isn't a certainty. A keen eye will spot you every time."

Alissa's eyebrows rose, and she stared at him. He looked the same except for the few flakes of snow now resting upon his shoulders and knees. "I can still see you," she finally said.

"I said it was of obscurity, not invisibility, child."

Flushing, Alissa set her first loop glowing and filled the proper channels. "Like this?"

There was a faint touch on her thoughts as Useless dropped his ward. Now that his tracings were empty, they would resonate to show what lines she was using. His eyes grew distant as he examined the pattern for any mistakes. "Exactly," he said, his gaze again sharp and clear. "You have it correct, as usual."

Unreasonably pleased, she reached for her abandoned tea. Cold, she thought and warmed it with a second ward. The two patterns used some of the same lines, and so it was possible to set up the second without disengaging the first.

Useless raised an eyebrow at her steaming cup and hid a smile. "Has Bailic mentioned the ward of illumination I showed you?" She shook her head, and he frowned. "I'm surprised." Running a free hand over his short-cropped hair, he glanced into the snow beginning to fall in earnest. "It's just within his grasp. I'm certain he will soon. Feel free to perform as he asks. The wards he gives Strell are simple enough."

"He ignores most of the wards you have taught me," Alissa said. "I think he's afraid to give Strell more than he himself can easily overcome."

"Yes, well. A lot of them Bailic doesn't know."

She blinked in disbelief. "They aren't that hard."

Useless gave her a long, unnerving look until she dropped her gaze. "Not everyone has a complete pattern, Alissa," he admonished gently. "There's much diversity among Keepers, many gaps and severed connections. A pattern won't resonate in one's thoughts if it's not complete, so it remains unseen and unknown. The one I just gave you is like that, so you may use it freely, even when Bailic is within a raku length. A single misconnection keeps that pattern from completion in him." Useless shook his head. "So close."

"But I can do it," Alissa pressed.

"Obviously. That's why I like you." Grinning, he topped off her cup. "Patterns that aren't beyond Keepers that we wish to keep to ourselves must be implemented with care, lest a Keeper pick them up by accident," Useless said. "It's a necessary bit of deception for everyone's safety, but most of all, their own. You can't learn what you don't know is possible."

She did, Alissa thought as she took a warming gulp of tea. "It must be frustrating," she said aloud, thinking of her own stymied desires for knowledge.

"They never know they lack," Useless said. "But their children stand a fair chance to be as they, or much more rarely, a touch more complete in their tracings."

"Really?" That was interesting. Each generation was better than its precursor.

"Yes, but just a touch," Useless explained. "It's a process that spans hundreds of years before even aminor change is apparent."

Alissa mulled that over. It explained a great deal as to why she was here. Her papa had been a Keeper. She had stood a good chance of being the same. "Useless?"

"Yes-s-s-s," he drawled, examining a snowflake that had landed upon his fingertip.

She paused, not sure how to phrase her question, wondering if she would like his answer or if he would give one. It had been bothering her for a long while, and she felt that now was as good a time as any to broach the potentially touchy subject. He was unusually free with his information tonight. Worried, Alissa drew her knees up to her chin, hiding under her coat. "Useless? Where exactly do I fit in?"

Still lost in the crystalline perfection on his finger, he replied, "Why do you ask?"

"You say Bailic goes too fast, but I'm creeping at the same pace. You teach me things you say no Keeper should learn, and..." She gestured helplessly, not sure how to continue.

"And you want to know why." His snowflake vanished with a puff of breath. Sighing, he turned to face her. "My book has called you to the Hold. It's that simple. I wish to leave it at that." His attention returned to the fire, effectively ending the discussion.

Ignoring his improper reference to her book, Alissa sat and stared at him. She would stare all night if need be. He would tell her more.

Useless drained his cup. With nary a glance in her direction, he filled it. This, too, he finished silently, but his feet were beginning to tap an irregular beat, and his brow held the shadow of a frown. It wouldn't be long before he broke. Alissa had used this technique upon her papa and remembered the signs.

"Oh, very well," he finally relented, seeming irritated at himself. "Latent Keepers are naturally drawn to any conglomeration of Masters upon maturity. In the past, a lucky set or two were born at Ese'