Convergence (10 page)

But that wasn't the way it was going to happen. The woman had obviously forgotten what his talent was, which made her stupid as well as vindictive. Sending fire after someone with Water magic . . . Valiant snorted and put his seabag
down,
then began to reach for every bit of moisture around.
The horse troughs, the clouds in the sky above, the very air of a port city only a few streets from the sea.

It was all his to use, in any way he cared to use it. The fireball had begun to roll at him, threatening to burn him down where he stood, but
i
t
was the one that had to veer off. He'd hung a fine curtain of mist in its path, but not so fine that the curtain hadn't begun to put out the leading edge of its flames. The fireball drew back and started to
circle,
trying to reach him, but it was already too late for that. By then he'd surrounded the thing with a ring of water, and the more water he called into the ring, the faster the fire began to shrink.

It took no more than minutes before the fire was completely drowned, and then Valiant was able to free the water to return to where it had been, retrieve his seabag, and continue on his way. He kept his eyes open for the woman's appearance with her men, but oddly enough the coach arrived before she did.
Or maybe not so oddly.
She must have seen her latest plan in ruins, and finally got smart enough to give up. About time, too, before he
really
lost his temper.

Valiant handed over his seabag and then climbed into the coach, grimly determined not to think about what he left behind. Soon it would be what he was headed back to, and
then
he could think about it. Now he just had to concentrate on making the interval in between the shortest it could possibly be.

All right,
now
you've met all of us. Of course, things didn't start to happen until
we
met, or at least not much of anything. We all knew what we wanted and intended to have, but the prophecy had already begun to enter our lives to make certain things inevitable. And then there was what our ruling class wanted, and what our friends and relatives and enemies wanted, and what our ultimate opponents wanted. And let's certainly not forget about the Ancients and what
they
wanted.

Goodness, it's a miracle we accomplished anything at all, not to mention survived. There were all those times we were sure we wouldn't, especially after we really got together. That was a
time,
let me tell you . . . All right, all right, I'll
show
them. It all began shortly after the others reached Gan Garee, where I already was . . .

Six

"We made it, Lor, we're actually here!" Hat's voice was low but intense, underscoring the way Lorand felt himself. "And I can't believe how big this place is! It took an hour of driving through the city for the coach to reach here."

"We'd better get our cases before the coach leaves with them," Lorand told him, reluctantly pulling his stare away from the immense walled area they'd been brought to. "I wonder if that's where we're supposed to go."

"Sure is," the coachman unpacking their cases from the rear of the coach said with a grin. "You go up to one of them guards, tell 'im you're here for testin', and he'll let you know where you go next. Good luck t'you, an' have fun."

Lorand thanked the man as he took both cases, Hat still being too immersed in staring openmouthed to join him. But once the coach pulled away, Lorand moved the few steps to Hat and pushed his case at him.

"Take this thing, will you?" he said, nervousness making him faintly irritable. "It feels like you packed half the county along with your clothes."

"Well, I had to, now didn't I?" Hat replied with a laugh as he took the case. "Since I won't be going back again, I had to take what I'll need. I wonder if they'll give us time to find a pretty lady or two first—or maybe they'll supply some after we pass."

"First worry about passing," Lorand advised, beginning to lead the way toward the gated wall. "If we don't, none of the rest will matter."

"Women will always matter," Hat countered, but not as lightheartedly as before. It was now really beginning, and Hat was starting to feel that as strongly as Lorand already did.

The immense wall clearly surrounded an area that wasn't open to the general public, the presence of sword and spear and armor-clad guardsmen reinforcing that observation. Lorand slowly approached one pair that
were
already staring at him and Hat, but when he reached them he didn't quite know what to say.

"We're—we're supposed to test," Hat stumbled in explanation, now sounding as uncertain as Lorand felt. "Can you tell us where we're supposed to go?"

'Let's see the coach tickets you used," one of the guardsmen rumbled without inflection, putting out a large, bluntfingered hand. Lorand and Hat exchanged an uneasy glance,
then
dug for what was left of the coach tickets they'd been given. They'd had to relinquish an inch of ticket for each leg of their journey, which had left them with little more than tubs. But they produced those stubs and handed them over, and the guardsman inspected them briefly before handing them back.

'You go to the main building right behind this gate," the guardsman told them, drawling the words in a way that said he'd repeated them any number of times before. "Use the entrance second from the right, and turn in these tickets
when
you're told to. They'll let you know what to do next."

And then the two guardsmen were stepping out of their way, giving them clear access to the gate. Lorand felt the strangest urge to wipe his sweating palms on his tunic, but he couldn't stand the thought of doing it in front of the guardsmen. There was already a definite gleam of amusement in the dismissive glances he and Hat had been getting, as if the guardsmen knew these two bumpkins had no chance to pass the tests. Well, Lorand did have a chance, and he meant to make the most of it. Hat still stood unmoving beside him, so he took a better grip on his case and resolutely moved through the gate . . .

. . .
only
to stop again just a few steps beyond it. The wall had hidden the most—utilitarian area Lorand had ever seen. A very large building with arched entrances stood before them, made of uniform gray stone three or four shades lighter than the stoned approach. It took no effort to feel the controlled strength that had been used to construct the building and approach, but less had gone into the planting and care of the grass surrounding the stone of the approach. The grass struggled to survive without Encouragement, an odd situation where there were supposed to be so many strong talents.

"Look at all the people coming in," Hat murmured from his left, obviously having stopped when he did. "They're using all those other gates, but only a few are heading toward the entrance we were told to use."

It was strange that Lorand had actually missed noticing the people, but Hat's mentioning them brought sight and awareness of them. There were dozens of people moving in and out of the immense building, men and women alike. Those coming out moved briskly in a businesslike way, as did some of those going in. Most of the others, though . . . Most of the others seemed like himself and Hat, nervous, unsure, hesitant, maybe even frightened. And most of them were alone, which made Lorand grateful for Hat's presence.

"No sense in just standing here," Lorand said after taking a deep breath. "It's already past noon, and we'll have to find someplace to stay before it gets dark. Let's go tell them we're here and find out when the testing will start, and then we can go looking for a place to live until it's our turn."

"Which won't be
too
long after our silver runs out," Hat agreed sourly, joining him in walking toward the building. "I don't know why official doings have to take so long to happen, but they always do. Remember the five-year-old tests?"

It had been a long time ago, but Lorand did remember. Every child in every district went to registration at the age of five, when they were enrolled in school and given their first tests. Lorand could also remember his father muttering about fool wastes of time, the elder Coll hating the need to allow anyone else access to
his
children.
And allowing them a say over those children.
Camil Coll would have kept his children illiterate if the law hadn't refused to let him do it, but Lorand hadn't known that at the time.