Convergence (20 page)

Stripping off my filthy dress and ruined shoes was delightful, as was freeing my hair for washing. The bath house was just the right size, small enough to be cozy and intimate and warm, large enough that the polished wood of its walls gleamed only a little in the lamplight. It was dim and comfortable with padded chairs in bright floral patterns to sit on, thin cotton rugs to keep your feet from the tiled floor, padded mats to stretch out on, and molded areas inside the large bath itself that held your body gently while you soaked. That was what I really looked forward to: soaking some of the aches out of my body.

The water was delightfully warm as I stepped down into it, kept that way by the efforts of two of the house servants who had minor Fire talents. After submerging completely for a moment I moved to one of the molded areas and sank down into it, letting free a deep sigh as I did so. The water felt marvelous to my tired, aching body, and I thought about spending the entire night right there without moving. If I hadn't been so hungry I would have considered the idea more seriously, but I felt hollow all the way down to my toes. I had only a limited time to soak before dinner would be ready, but coming back again after dinner was always an option . . .

I must have drifted off to sleep for a while, my head supported and cushioned by the padded headrest positioned just above the molded area. The gentle current of the recirculating water—provided by another servant with Water magic—was more than lulling, and I remember thinking myself in some private underground cavern, being carried off by the warm waters of its hidden stream. I floated along, finding the experience delicious—and then I jerked awake at the sound of the door opening! At first I thought it was Gimmis and my heart began to race, but then I remembered that Gimmis was dead. The man who had simply walked in was a stranger, and fear suddenly changed to outrage.

"Who are you and what are you doing in here?" I demanded, trying to shield my naked body with my arms. "No, never mind about answering that. Just get out of here!"

"Not until I've had my share of that water," the fool replied in a deep voice, looking directly at me as he made his way to the towel cabinet. "I feel singed from head to foot, not to mention broken and stomped on and covered in old sweat. I
need
that bath, but don't let me hurry you. Stay as long as you like."

I almost sputtered in outrage at that, as well as at the way he glanced at me before starting to search for a towel. He was a very large man with long pale-blond hair, light eyes, a deep tan, and broad shoulders. Obviously he was very used to getting his way with women, but this wasn't going to be one of the times he did. I used the opportunity of his back being turned to scramble out of the bath and wrap myself in my towel, and then I turned back to him. What a shame I was too exhausted to do anything but talk . . .

"I don't care what you need, or even who you are," I told him firmly, more than simply annoyed. "This bath house belongs to
me,
and I want you out of it this minute. If you refuse to leave, I'll call the guardsmen and have you arrested for breaking in here."

"I didn't break in, I walked in," he countered calmly, having turned back to look at me as he began to unbutton his shirt. "And if you own this house, I was told you would be expectin' me. I'm Valiant Ro, here in this accursed town to test for somethin' I never wanted. If you dislike havin' me here, you can thank the fools in our government for my presence. If not for them, I'd already be on my way back home."

I stared at him openmouthed for a moment, suddenly so furious that it was a good thing I'd have trouble reaching fire now. I'd had to go through hell because of people like
him,
people who didn't want to test for High and therefore had to be forced into doing their best! I grew so furious that I barely noticed
he
now stood bare-chested, his body as well-tanned as his face. I did notice, however, when he reached to his trousers and began to open them without hesitation. I lost most of what I'd meant to say, and could only turn quickly to face the wall.

"I'm going to speak to someone about having you put elsewhere," I finally choked out, hating the heavy heat of embarrassment I felt in my cheeks. "You haven't the first idea about civilized behavior, and I refuse to have you in my house a moment longer than absolutely necessary. And if they can't find another place for you, I hope you'll need to sleep in the street!"

Rather than hearing words in reply, I heard the definite splash of water in the bath that said a large body had plunged into it. My cheeks flamed hot again, and not just because I'd never seen a naked male body despite having been married. Gimmis had always forced me to close my eyes, even in the dark of his bedchamber. It was the rudeness of this lout that disturbed me so, a rudeness made up of his intrusion and his stare and the way I hadn't been able to say what I wanted to him. I stepped barefoot into my shoes, gathered my clean clothes awkwardly with one hand while the other kept the towel closed about me, and simply got out of there.

But once outside, I paused to remove the "occupied" sign from the door. If this Valiant Ro didn't mind intruding on
me,
he shouldn't mind having someone else doing the same to him. And his presence guaranteed the other applicants couldn't be far behind, hopefully with one among them who was as rude and intrusive as Ro himself!

Twelve

Valiant Ro looked around at the fire circling him, at the same time fighting to clear his thoughts. All his basic self wanted to do was escape the confines of that room, going straight through a wall if necessary. The fact that it obviously wasn't possible to go through the walls didn't seem to matter to that basic part of him, but it mattered to the rest. There did have to be a way out of there, and only rational thought would find it.

Valiant looked around for a third time, distantly finding it strange that the fire concerned him less than the confined space of the room. That had to be because holding off the fire was fractionally easier, even if it wasn't possible to put it out completely. He'd hung a curtain of light moisture all around himself not far from the inner ring of flames, and so far the flames hadn't gone past it.

But that didn't mean they wouldn't, so he had to get moving. A way out
...
a way out
...
As he continued to look around, he felt heavy frustration mounting. There didn't seem to
be
a way out, but he'd already decided that that was impossible. Something had to be there, but without a usable door and with no windows except for that small, windowlike door high in the wall—

Valiant briefly cursed his stupidity under his breath, at last understanding one of the reasons his recent guide had appeared at the window-door.
That
was Valiant's way out, but how was he supposed to reach it? He'd never managed to learn to fly like a bird, although people claimed he swam like a fish . . .

And of course that was it.
Water, the element of his talent, what he was there to be tested in.
In order to save himself he'd have to use his talent, an act he'd intended to refrain from. This time it was the government he cursed under his breath, hating the way they'd manipulated him into doing his best. It wasn't fair, and he meant to tell them so as soon as he was out of there.

But first he had to
get
out, which wouldn't be easy. That large amount of water he could sense somewhere nearby wasn't large enough to flood the room and float him up to the door, at the same time quenching those flames. It would have to be used differently, but how? How could that large but limited amount of water get him out of here?

Valiant noticed that he was sweating harder, and not just from his terror at being looked in such a small room. That ring of flames had somehow moved past his curtain of water, and now burned that much closer to him. It was circling tighter and tighter, intent on surrounding and smothering him as well as burning . . .

Once again Valiant had to fight blind panic, and this time pulling out of it was harder. The thought of being enclosed by the fire really was harder to deal with than being burned by it, but putting out one section of it and escaping the circle wasn't likely to help. It was logical to expect the fire to follow wherever he went, and would undoubtedly trap him against the wall if necessary. He had to get out of that room to escape the double trap, and he had to use his Water magic to do it.
But how . . . ?

He began to wipe the sweat from his face again, wishing the room could be cooler, and just that easily he had his answer. Ice, he would have to form ice from the water, and that way he'd be able to reach the window door. But with most of the room's heat coming from that fire, how was he supposed to form and maintain ice? Curse those codding bureaucrats!
That
was why they threatened him with fire! To make forming ice that much harder!

Valiant briefly considered clamping down on his temper,
then
dismissed the idea with a snarl. He needed every advantage he could get, and anger—directed anger—often increased his strength.
And took his attention from other things, like a crippling fear.
He just had to stay angry long enough to get the job done, which would be hard enough even that way. Ice, in all that
heat ,
. .

But it could be done in a small way, so it ought to be possible on a large scale with enough strength behind the effort. First he would have to establish some protection from those flames, and then he could start building his ice bridge. But what shape should it be in? And did he really want a
bridge . . . ?

It would have been nice if Valiant could have spent a while considering those questions, but he simply didn't have the time. Everything including his own mind pushed at him to hurry, but he had to hurry cautiously. A serious mistake would mean needing to start all over again, and by then the flames would be right on top of him . . .

Reaching out to every bit of moisture in the air, Valiant caused a fairly heavy cascade to form over the arc of fire that was in the way of where he needed to put his ice platform. And platform was what it would have to be, since there might not be enough water—or time—for anything more involved. And if things worked properly, he'd even bypass the need to climb up to that platform.

But first he had to move around behind that cascade, closer to the wall where the window-door was. Everyone knew that fire melted ice without needing to think about it, but it took some people a moment to realize that pouring water did the same. He would have to protect his ice platform from both things, as well as maintain the cascade while he built the ice.

Just thinking about it was a waste of time and strength, not to mention taking the edge off his anger by increasing his fear. He'd never had to do so much with his talent before, but worrying about whether or not he
could would
just lessen his chances. For that reason he quickly reached to the large supply of water, established a bridge to the room he stood in, and began bringing the water through. As soon as it reached him he added frozen chips from way up in the sky, which froze the rest of what it touched.

And the ice began to form under his feet, or more precisely, under his shoes. He would have been happier about his balance—if more uncomfortable—if he
were
barefoot, but his body heat would make the problem a lot harder to handle. He'd keep one hand on the wall he built his platform in front of, and try to maintain his balance that way.

The plan seemed to work, although Valiant had to ignore how hard it was to do everything at once. Maintaining the cascade to keep the fire put out, channeling in the water from wherever it was being kept, and bringing down the frigid chunks of ice from high up to freeze what was forming under him. It was like a crazy game, where everything demanded your attention at once if you weren't going to lose and lose badly. Valiant played the game, but he came close to drowning in sweat.

It took a number of very difficult minutes, but his ice platform finally brought him high enough to reach the window-door. He reached out to it gingerly with his free hand, briefly afraid that it would refuse to open, but the wood pushed back out of his way with very little effort. The only problem
that
left was sight of the space behind it, an area only a little larger than his body. There was a much wider opening beyond the very cramped area, but in order to reach it he would have to go through that tiny, airless,
confining
space . . .

Valiant almost lost it then, so strongly did his terror surge up. He'd considered the room confining, but that tiny crawl space was a thousand times worse. He had to use it in order to get out, but could he? He'd spread his talent out in three different directions, almost emptying himself of ability, but crawling through that tiny area could well be beyond him. He swallowed from a bone-dry mouth, fighting to keep his eyes from closing—and suddenly felt his ice platform trembling under his feet. Fear was interfering with his talent, and a single mental touch told him the platform was about to come apart!