Authors: Marion Z. Bradley
The shadow matrix had been imprinted on Marguerida's palm during a wild battle in the Overworld with the disembodied spirit of Ashara, the ancient
leronis
who had overshadowed her as a child. Ashara had prolonged her own existence by taking over the minds of others. As Marguerida and Mikhail had struggled to free her from that malign influence, Marguerida had broken off part of Ashara's psychic Tower, and the result had been the living crystal in her own flesh. What if— the horrifying thought came to Marguerida now—what if the shadow matrix were tainted with Ashara's venomous spirit, the way the Sharra matrix was tainted?
No, it could not be possible! Ashara was destroyed, gone! The stress of the night's events, the terror of losing Mikhail, that moment of panic, had put the notion into her mind. It was a baseless fear, nothing more!
"Your heart is good," her father said, giving no sign he had sensed her thoughts, "but you may not fully appreciate the power of what you are dealing with. This—" he pointed to her gloved hand, "is no toy. And neither is
laran
, most particularly the Alton Gift."
"I most certainly do not need to be reminded of that!" With an effort, Marguerida controlled her irritation. Her father was not her enemy, and he was always harder on himself than on her. He deserved patience and understanding, not a fit of temper.
"I did not come here to lecture you." Lew's usually hoarse voice was low and gravelly. "I see I've made a bad beginning of it."
"We're both tired," she said with a rush of sympathy. "That does make it harder. What did you want to talk about? And must it be tonight?"
"Always the practical one, my Marja. There are two things on my mind, neither of which can be instantly resolved, but I do not want them to be forgotten in the business of the season. The first is the proper use of
laran"
"The Alton Gift, you mean?" She raised one eyebrow.
"You did not use your
laran
to restrain the crowd at the gates tonight, but you have worked long and hard to master your temper."
Just barely
, Marguerida reflected, carefully keeping her doubts to herself.
"There is no point in hashing over tonight's events. However, I am reminded that Yllana and Domenic both possess the Alton Gift, as does—what was her name, the Traveler girl?"
"Illona Rider. She is still at Nevarsin Tower, and likely to become under-Keeper there. Surely, her teachers would not have let her progress so far if she showed any instability."
Lew nodded. "Nico's Tower training should also serve him well."
"Yllana has an exceptionally steady temperament, like her father," Marguerida added with a smile. "Tonight, she was a wonder of efficiency under pressure. I don't know what I would have done without her. I have no reservations about any of them."
"Doubtless you are right. All three are fine young people. You know them better than I do. Nevertheless…" Lew paused. "Perhaps I am too old-fashioned about Comyn responsibility, but I would feel easier if I made sure for myself that Nico and Yllana understand the responsibility incurred by having the Alton Gift."
"I have no objections to your teaching them whatever you think they need to know." Marguerida shifted, a little uneasy. There was something more, still unspoken, some shadow behind her father's words. She remembered how shaken he had looked after the mob dispersed.
In typical fashion, she faced the problem directly, laying one hand gently on his single arm. "Father, what else distresses you? What brought up this concern for
laran
ethics?"
He shook his head, his eyes shadowed, and for a long moment did not answer. "Ghosts," he said at last, half-whispering. "The past is too much with me in this place. I do not know why my mind keeps bring-
ing up old memories. I wish I had stayed at Armida, but I am not sure I could find peace there, either." He sighed and shook his shoulders, as if trying to shed whatever bothered him.
"You cannot leave us now, not in the middle of this crisis!" Her words came out sharper than she intended.
"I have no intention of going anywhere. Not yet, anyway. You do not need to convince me I am needed here. It's just… I have been reminded of too many things I wished to forget. I am not so foolish as to think that I can simply run away from them. Not even in my dreams."
"Shall I ask Charissa to attend you? Or Istvana?" Marguerida asked, genuinely concerned for his health. "Something to help you sleep, perhaps?"
He got to his feet. "Ah, my Marja. Some things cannot be solved with a sympathetic conversation and an herbal tincture. I have lived with these memories for many years, and no doubt I will continue to endure them."
With those words, he bent to kiss her cheek, and then left her. Marguerida remained in her chair, watching the candle flames, now still and steady. It seemed that everywhere she turned, the people she loved harbored painful secrets. Nico, and now her father.
By the time Marguerida gathered the family for breakfast the next day, it was well past noon. Sunlight drifted, bright and clear, through the half-opened windows of the family parlor.
Mikhail came in last. The night before, Istvana had examined him with her
laran
. Below the darkening bruise, she found no damage to his skull or bleeding in his brain, but the blow had left him with a mild concussion. Despite her instructions to remain quiet, he had been up since dawn, after only a few hours' sleep.
Marguerida sensed her husband's struggle to concentrate through the nausea and fatigue. It was all she could do not to pin him down and force him to take proper care of himself.
Leave him alone
, Marguerida scolded herself.
He will not heal any faster for your fretting
.
At least, the city was quiet this morning. The City Guards patrolled the streets and stood watch beside the locked gates. There had been no
new reports of disorder in the streets. She worried a little about Rory, on patrol duty, even though there was nothing she could do to protect him.
The meal began poorly. Everyone seemed preoccupied or irritable. Domenic picked at his food, his expression shuttered, his mental shields firmly in place. Yllana had dark circles under her eyes and kept fidgeting until Marguerida excused her to practice her music.
Istvana glided into the room, wearing an ordinary summer gown of very fine, pale yellow wool embroidered around the high neck and cuffs with the Ridenow colors. She went to Marguerida and embraced her.
"How are you, Marja my dear?" Istvana asked in her no-nonsense tone. "Mikhail, you are not resting enough, that much is clear."
Good for you
! Marguerida thought.
Maybe he'll listen to sense when it comes from someone else
.
"When there are fewer urgent matters that require my attention, I will rest more," he said with deceptive mildness.
Marguerida sighed. Sometimes, her beloved could be infuriatingly stubborn.
"Sit down, Isty," she said, gesturing to the empty place. "We are well, considering what a night it was. How is Alanna this morning? Has she recovered from her fright?"
Istvana took a seat and began piling food on to her plate. "I told you last night, Marguerida, the girl does not suffer from fright any more than
you
do. What is wrong with her is not that simple."
Domenic looked up sharply. Marguerida noticed that he had been shoving his breakfast around his plate without eating more than a mouthful or two.
"Alanna is something of a mystery," Istvana said, between bites. "I understand she studied for a time at Arilinn."
"She did," Marguerida said.
"That explains it, then." Istvana nodded.
"I don't understand," Mikhail said, frowning His blue eyes reflected his deep concern. "She stayed only one season. After that, she refused to go back. As she seemed so much improved, we did not force her." His fair brows tightened, pulling on the swollen bruise on his forehead, and he winced. "Should we have?"
"Marja told me that Alanna demonstrated emerging talents of fire-starting and telekinesis—a very dangerous combination with her poor
self-control," Istvana commented. "The circle at Arilinn must have felt impelled to deal with the situation immediately, for Alanna's own safety as well as that of those around her."
Istvana's expression darkened. Because of their friendship, Mar-guerida almost forgot that Istvana had all the authority and ruthless power of a Keeper.
"I know I can trust you not to repeat this," Istvana said, "but since Jeff Kerwin retired, I don't know what Arilinn Tower has been up to. Aldones knows, we have few enough with the strength and talent to do the work. Sometimes, though, I wonder if they could not have found someone besides Loren MacAndrews to succeed Jeff as Keeper. I have no right to criticize another Keeper, and I certainly am not the guardian of her conscience. However, in my opinion, she is leading the Tower backward."
Mikhail's head came up and Marguerida caught his shiver of alarm. "What do you mean,
backward
?"
"Just that. Arilinn has long been known as the most conservative of the Towers. The Archives there must date back to the Ages of Chaos, they're so old."
"But of incalculable historical worth, are they not?" As a scholar, Marguerida appreciated the value of such a library.
"Indeed," Istvana agreed, and speared a piece of meat. "But not merely as obsolete records. They represent a treasure trove of forgotten techniques, just waiting to be rediscovered."
"Including things better left alone?" Mikhail said, nodding as he followed Istvana's train of thought.
Marguerida bit her lip, remembering her brief, unhappy time at Arilinn. She had been older than the rest of the students, and, having been raised offworld and possessing the Alton Gift, had become an object of thinly veiled hostility. Loren, one of the oldest students at that time, had been openly relieved when Marguerida left.
"I remember that Loren was fascinated with tradition, not that I ever knew her well." Marguerida wondered if Loren's resentment had not been rooted in jealousy. "She wasn't exactly friendly, but she seemed competent."
And ambitious
.
"Oh, she is that." Istvana gestured with her fork. "I didn't mean to imply otherwise. Arilinn Keepers have always been highly qualified, and
Loren is no exception. I meant that she might have tried one of the old methods on Alanna as an emergency measure, assuming that Alanna would remain for some time at Arilinn, so there would be plenty of time to reintegrate her talents as she attained greater self-discipline."
"Old methods?" Marguerida asked. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."
"Someone at Arilinn—and I can only assume it was the Keeper— implanted certain involuntary safeguards within Alanna's mind. In effect, Loren cordoned off the more dangerous parts of Alanna's
laran
in order to protect her sanity."
"You mean, they destroyed her
laran"
Mikhail gasped. Marguerida sensed his instinctive recoil.
Laran
had been revered by the Comyn since time immemorial; only a short time ago, no Comyn could marry or inherit without demonstrating that he possessed it.
Istvana quickly reassured Mikhail that Alanna's talent was not burned out, only quiescent.
Like a cancer in remission
, Marguerida thought. A twinge pulsed through her temples, an echo of her earlier headaches.
"Fire-starting and telekinesis were not Alanna's only talents," Istvana went on. "She also had—
has
—a form of unreliable precognition. No, Marja, it's not at all like your Aldaran Gift. In fact, faced with multiple possible futures, it is a wonder the child's mind did not break down entirely. Fortunately, this seems to be a recent development, and I wonder if it was not in response to the earlier suppression."
"Like weeds popping out in new parts of the garden, once you've weeded them in one place?" Marguerida frowned. "So, if this ability is cordoned off, who knows what Alanna will come up with next?"
"She isn't doing it deliberately!" Domenic burst out.
Istvana gave him another intent look. "No, I am sure none of this is voluntary on her part. And Loren did what she thought best. We cannot question the decision of a Keeper."
Istvana went on to explain that last night, something had disrupted Alanna's safeguards, resulting in a resurgence of threshold symptoms. Out of the corner of her eye, Marguerida noticed Domenic shift uneasily in his chair, but she could sense nothing of his thoughts.
"Is she—" Domenic stammered, "is she still in danger?"
Istvana shook her head. "Alanna's mind is stable for the time being.
I was able to reinforce the Arilinn safeguards. I dared not meddle with what Loren did, not until I understand all the implications, so I thought it better to leave her precognition alone. She may find it troublesome, but is should pose no direct danger to her or anyone around her."
Mikhail looked unhappy. "Should we sent her back to Arilinn? She would not have gone willingly before, but perhaps now…"