Dragonlord of the Savage Empire

Chapter Four

It was afternoon, the time for men to use the bathhouse. Lenardo found several off-duty soldiers playing ball in the gymnasium and joined them, working up a sweat as he tried to banish his tension. When he finally slammed the ball with such force that the receiver was knocked over, one of the men called out, "You're sure you've no Adept power, me lord?"

He managed an almost natural laugh and said, panting, "Perhaps it's contagious, eh?"

As he helped the fallen soldier to his feet, the young man said, "Then stick around me, my lord, and see if Reading rubs off. Would that I could Read what's happening in sweet Nerissa's mind!"

As the other men proceeded to tell him what they thought was on Nerissa's mind, Lenardo excused himself and went to bathe. Even when he plunged into the pool of cold water, the last step in his daily routine, he was still unsettled.

I can't do it, he told himself as he toweled off and put on a clean tunic. It's not something I'm capable of, nor something Aradia would succumb to. At once he felt better, until he remembered that that left him without a plan at all. Perhaps if he talked with her again…

Emerging from the bathhouse, he walked across the forum to the white pavilion. Pepyi, one of Aradia's retainers, was standing guard at the entrance. "Is the Lady Aradia within?" Lenardo asked.

"Yes, my lord. One moment, please."

Almost at once, Peply came back, along with Aradia's maid. "My lady will see you, Lord Lenardo. Please enter."

He threaded his way through the hanging that provided privacy to the large central area where Aradia's furnishings were set out. Grass mats covered the paving stones of the forum; on them were set a small folding table and two chairs, a chest, and several tall candelabra, unlit now, as daylight filtered through the white silk. A bedroll covered with silken sheets and heaped with cushions occupied one end of the inner room formed by the hangings.

Aradia was sitting at the table, wearing an amethyst silk dress; the surcoat she had worn earlier was folded neatly on top of the chest.

"Come sit down, Lenardo," she said, gesturing to the other chair. "Will you have some wine?"

"Thank you."

With her back to him, Aradia poured the wine and produced two goblets, not one. So she acknowledged that they were not in accord. "Why have you come here?" she asked.

He had no answer; he didn't know what he hoped to accomplish.

Aradia reached out to touch his damp hair. "You're wet."

"I just came from the baths."

"Yes, you smell nice and clean. I've been using your baths every morning-such luxury! Did you know that your people are so mystified about your putting the baths in order before anything else that they've decided a Reader must immerse in water every day to keep his powers?"

He laughed. "How did I miss Reading that bit of nonsense? No, Aradia. When I first came here, the entire population was infested with fleas and lice. I had to do something to prevent the spread of disease, and the bathhouse was there."

Aradia shuddered. "I'm glad you got rid of the fleas and lice before we got here!"

"But an Adept can just-"

"I'd rather not have them at all, thank you. Can we change the subject?"

"Of course."

But she fell silent, sipping her,wine, and Lenardo followed suit. The wine was not the light beverage he had become used to. It was strong and spicy and seemed to go straight to his head. Aradia studied him over the rim of her goblet and then put it down and reached for his hand. Again, her fingers traced the brand on his forearm. "Tell me what you want for your people, Lenardo." "Hmm?" He forced himself to concentrate. "After you rebuild Zendi, then what?" Aradia asked, pouring him more wine.

He ignored the wine and said flatly, "You know my plans. They have not changed."

"A treaty with the Aventine Empire?" "You once thought it a good idea." "I still do. I need skilled Readers, not untrained children, to carry out my plans. Go on-what else do you plan?"

"I would like to see all my people comfortably clothed and housed and free to earn a living as they choose. There is terrible ignorance here; few people survive from the time before Drakonius took this land, none of them scholars, artists, or even skilled artisans. The younger men don't even know how to hunt, as Drakonius allowed only his own huntsmen into the forests to get meat for his tables, and be damned if the peasants were starving."

"Lenardo, that is a way of keeping Adepts from flourishing. Keep meat a rarity among most of your populace, and you won't find a Lord Adept suddenly grown up among the peasants to challenge you."

Lenardo felt a sickness at the pit of his stomach. "Deliberately stunt the growth of their powers? Aradia… in your lands-"

"You have seen how I feed my people. I want everyone with Adept power to use it to the fullest-for me. Diet cannot create powers a person was not born with, but inadequate diet can blunt Adept powers just as it can make a child physically and mentally weak. Your Julia, now-"

"Ironically, Drakonius' restrictions worked in her favor. Apparently she got enough-barely enough-to eat, though.

She's certainly bright, and she's growing like a weed now that someone's taking care of her."

"What happened to her mother?" Aradia asked.

"She disappeared as soon as I lifted travel restrictions. I don't know why."

"I do. If Drakonius had adopted a child, he would certainly have killed her parents to be sure she had no other ties."

Lenardo sighed. "It will be a long time before my people get over Drakonius. Still, I don't think Julia misses her mother very much. She couldn't communicate with her the way she does with me. I can't really explain to a nonReader. What seems odd is that I feel the same closeness with Adepts-and look at Julia and Wulfston."

"People with extraordinary powers," said Aradia. "We have a great deal in common."

She continued to hold his hand with one of hers. Lenardo waited, somehow unable to initiate further conversation when he was so aware of her touch. He had never seen her like this, apparently open and vulnerable. In a sense, she was on vacation. She had no responsibilities here; she was his guest. Everything was up to Lenardo.

Not really believing that he was going to try his plot, Lenardo remained waiting, suspended. Maybe they could just talk, come to a better understanding if Aradia were relaxed…

Aradia uncurled the fingers of Lenardo's hand, staring at the palm. "You have such nice hands. Why don't you ever touch people?"

"I touch people-"

"To heal. To lift Julia up onto Wulfston's horse. But you never really touch."

"Readers don't."

"I'm not a Reader," she said, placing her palm over his, her fingers tickling the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist. "Julia thinks you don't care about her because you don't hug or kiss her."

"Julia can Read directly how I feel about her… but you can't," he said, his heart pounding in terror at his boldness.

He hadn't expected the opportunity, and surely it would never come again. Take one step and see what happens, he told himself firmly. He closed his hand around hers, and when she didn't pull away, he leaned forward and kissed her.

His position was awkward. He could not remain kissing her long, just a touching of lips that brought no answering response from her except a pang of startlement. Before his muscles went into spasm, he sank back into his chair, waiting for Aradia's reaction.

She blushed but gripped his hand more tightly. She had once told him that she could make good use of energy created by frustrated desire. Probably she thought that she could kiss him safely enough, let herself become aroused, and then stop short. If she did, he had lost nothing except his composure. But if he could Read her feelings well enough to tip the balanceHe got up, drawing Aradia to her feet. She made no resistance when he took her into his arms but held him, her head against his shoulder. Her quickened breathing and faint trembling told him that she was excited, and he Read her heart beating as rapidly as his own. Only once before in his life had Lenardo held a woman thus, and for the first time he blessed that innkeeper's daughter, only wishing that they had not been caught quite so soon.

Despite the close contact, he felt no unpleasant overburdening of emotion. It was more pleasant than holding Julia, something highly charged with expectancy communicating from Aradia's body to his. A faint, clean smell rose from her, the sweet aroma of her hair. During the days of ceremonial appearances, she had worn it in intricate arrangements of braids and curls. Now she had pulled it into a simple coil at the nape of her neck; it looked as if all that held it were three gold combs set with amethysts. Experimentally, he pulled out the combs, and her pale blond hair tumbled free.

At that, she lifted her face up, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss her again. This time it was more successful-they seemed to fit together. As he pressed his lips to hers, her mouth yielded, softening invitingly, and a charge of pure desire struck through him. Pleasure blurred the edges of his fear. It became harder to think, easier to act.

He felt a strange yearning to get closer to her. He could Read her hesitant desire but could not reach her mind. As if physical closeness could compensate, he held her tighter, his hands seeking over her body but encountering only the fabric of her gown where he sought to feel flesh on flesh.

Finally he found the tiny hooks fastening her gown, fumbling as he fought a wish to tear the fabric. That violent notion brought him back to reality long enough to complete the task while he made a decision. It's up to Aradia now. I want her, and I'll take her if she'll let me. He didn't pause to question when his duty to stop Aradia from trying to rule the world had become his personal desire. His touch-starved body merely acted, feeling Aradia pliant, willing, shyHe couldn't remember getting out of his own clothing, but he was naked and was trying to find Aradia beneath layers of filmy undergarments, until he finally stripped away the last one and she stood pale and shimmering before him, veiled now only with the soft aura of her hair.

He couldn't even pause to look at her but lifted her and knelt to lay her in the bed. In his hasty and inexperienced passion, when he kissed her aggressively, their teeth met in a painful jolt. But her soft outcry only inflamed him. She was his now, helpless beneath him. He was annoyed momentarily when her hair got in his mouth, shifting his weight when her sense of suffocation reached him, but at the core he took her on a rush of power such as he had never known before.

Emotion peaked. With a cry of triumph at the burst of total pleasure, Lenardo dropped panting, sweating, onto Aradia's breast, burnt out and unbelievably satisfied. The last thing he felt was her hands pushing at him until he slid off her, feeling somehow that he ought to investigate why her feelings seemed so distant from his, but he was too content, too tired.

Blackness claimed him.

Lenardo woke to the thob of a headache. It was dark, almost midnight. Instead of the pale square of his window, there was milky grayness all around him, the night color of Aradia's white pavilion. Memory flooded back. His first instinct was to run, but it hurt incredibly when he moved his head, and there was AradiaDespite the pain, he Read her. She was curled up with her back to him, now wearing a long-sleeved, high-necked loose robe and clutching the covers about herself protectively, as if she feared attack. From the state of her body, he could Read that she had wept long and hard before falling into exhausted sleep.

Lenardo was filled with utter self-loathing. He deserved however much his head ached and was surprised that he could Read at all. Now he knew why Master Clement had beaten him so that time. Was the beast loosed this afternoon locked within every man, or had his teachers recognized a particular danger in him and tried to restrain it with special strictness? If he had never left the Academy, he might never have known- Now I can never go, back.

What was he to do? First things first: take himself out of Aradia's way. She wouldn't want to face him when she woke. Why am I still alive? he wondered. Can I have damaged her powers that much? He would certainly have wanted to kill anyone who had so brutally used him.

The headache was interfering with his thinking. He got to his knees, swaying, and sought his clothes. He Read them, finally, neatly hung on one of the chairs, his sandals under it. Aradia's attempts to restore order made his heart ache.

As he struggled to his feet, the world tilted and the pain in his head redoubled. Fighting to suppress a moan, he winced in agony when the candles burst into flame.

"Lenardo."

Helplessly, he turned to face Aradia. "Don't leave," she whispered.

"How can you-" he began, but the effort of talking set the room spinning, and he staggered, putting both bands to his head as the jar of regaining his balance sent another lance through his skull.

"You're in pain," Aradia gasped, and was at his side, one cool hand on his forehead. The pain dissolved; the world oriented itself, and he stared in astonishment into her anxious eyes.

"How can you stand to touch me?" he asked.

She looked away, suddenly shy. "I wanted it, too," she said. "I didn't know it would be like that."

She seemed so forlorn that he wanted to comfort her, started to reach for her, and pulled back-but she turned into his arms, clinging to him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured helplessly. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Not that way. "I'll never do it again."

At the disgust in his tone, she backed off. "Am I repellent to you now?"

He closed his eyes, trying to Read some sense in her attitude, but all he got was a haze of shame, anxiety, and self-recrimination.

"Aradia-" If he could only touch her mind, assure her that his loathing was toward himself. But he could not. So he held out his hands, not reaching for her, just available. "Whatever you want."

What she wanted was to sleep in his arms, it seemed. He didn't understand, but he was grateful. As he lay awake long after Aradia, he realized that he didn't want to leave her. Perhaps not ever.

The next morning, having faced down the guards when he left Aradia's pavilion, Lenardo prepared to keep his appointment with Julia and discovered that his powers had indeed deteriorated. He could not leave his body; it was as if the lead weight of his animal nature held his spirit prisoner.

Fast and meditation, he told himself. You cannot have regressed permanently. Those Readers who were judged capable of trying for the two highest ranks when they took their tests at eighteen were given instruction in leaving the body. Anyone who could not do it by the time he was twenty was judged a failure.

And had I failed this miserably at that time, they would have married me off, and what I did last night I would have done to some poor female Reader-but worse, because I'd have assaulted her mind as well as her body.

He cringed from that line of thought. Julia was waiting. He had to calm himself and try to reach her. He had Read farther than to Wulfston's castle without leaving his body before. But that was indeed before.

He knew where Wulfston was building his castle-actually expanding one of Drakonius' old fortifications into a dwelling-but he had never been there or Read it before. By the time he found it, his relief was so intense that Julia caught it.

//You're late, Father. What's wrong? Are you ill?// //Yes-no-not exactly. It's nothing for you to worry about, Julia.// //I'm coming home!//

//No!// He forced himself to be calm, feeling as if he were the eight-year-old.

Julia was already up and running out of her room and down the hall to pound on Wulfston's door and then burst in to declare, "Lord Wulfston, I've got to go home! It's Father!" "What?" "He's sick." //No. No, Julia.//

Wulfston was saying, "Hasn't he contacted you?" "Yes. He's… here. In my head, I mean." Wulfston squatted down so that he could look directly into Julia's eyes. "Lenardo, can you have Julia tell me what's wrong? We can ride today if you need us."

//Tell Lord Wulfston -you got scared, Julia. There's nothing wrong at all.//

When Julia remained silent, Wulfston demanded, "What does he say?"

"He says there's nothing wrong. I don't believe it." Wulfston studied the girl's face. "Julia, if you don't like it here and want to go home, just tell me. Don't make up stories about your father being ill." //Tell him I am ill… in a way. It's nothing serious.// "Father says he is ill, but it's nothing serious," Julia relayed. "He says his Reading powers are-im-paired?-but they'll come back. You remember how his powers were impaired"-this time she was certain she had the word- "when he was so sick at Castle Nerius. It's not nearly that bad, he'll be fine, and he… he wants me to stay here." Then she added her own interpretation. "I think he's scared about me."

"Well, you know, Julia," said Wulfston, "some illnesses are much more serious for children than for adults. It's probably something he doesn't want you to catch. Now, don't you worry. Aradia's there to heal Lenardo."

//That's right,// Lenardo told her. //Tell Wulfston that Aradia has already helped me.//

When Julia relayed the message, Wulfston said, "There, you see? The healing has used up Lenardo's strength. It's nothing to worry about."

Between them, Lenardo and Wulfston calmed Julia, and she settled down to her lesson. However, Lenardo found it difficult to maintain contact over that distance and warned JuMa that when Wulfston took her on the promised excursion to the sea, she was not to worry if he could not reach her there. But surely, he told himself, my abilities will improve soon.

If only he could take two or three days to fast and meditate. But there was work to be done, and he still had a guest. When he emerged from his lesson with Julia, he fully expected a polite message saying that Aradia was leaving. But there was none, and as he crossed the forum on his way to the day's work site, there was no sign of activity about the white pavilion.

He passed people busily rebuilding, who smiled and waved to him as they might on any other day. If the news had spread that the Lord of Zendi had spent the night in Aradia's pavilion, he could not Read that anyone suspected what had happened there. He caught some curiosity about what a Lord Reader and a Lady Adept might be plotting together and slowly realized that those endowed with the full range of powers were not thought to have the same temptations of the flesh as ordinary people. How disillusioned they would be if they knew!

Lenardo had started his rebuilding program from the forum outward. As the city now held approximately the number of people it was designed for, Lenardo hoped to put everything back in order and then expand the facilities as the population increased. Trade would grow again, he knew. People with talent and business skill would sort themselves out from the rest. The excellent Aventine road would keep Zendi flourishing, and Lenardo foresaw a time when it would outshine its heyday as a prime Aventine trade city.

The sewer system under the forum had been cleared and repaired during Lenardo's first month in Zendi, the ditch closed and paved over all along the main market way to Northgate. Water no longer flowed from the bathhouse pipe but bubbled merrily from the forum fountain and two others some distance away. Lenardo had been amused to discover that bringing the long-dry fountains to life was regarded as an act worthy of the most powerful Adept.

Today, work continued along another main street branching out from the forum. Yesterday, Lenardo had Read a section of broken pipe, and when he joined the workmen this morning, he found them just laying the cobbles back over the completed repair. He Read the new pipe neatly joined to the old and said, "Good job. We'll have this whole section finished before winter sets in."

The workmen picked up their tools and followed Lenardo as he Read the water and sewer pipes beneath the street. "The water pipes are sound now all the way to the fountain, but the sewer pipe is clogged solid. Vona?"

They had tried various Adept abilities on the pipes and had found that fire was best at clearing them. As there was little air in the pipes, though, fire was difficult to sustain, and their two best fire talents alternated days and still could not work for long. There were patches where it was best to have the workmen dig up the pipes.

"Show me, my lord," said Vona, coming to stand beside Lenardo.

"She was in her midforties, hair graying from auburn, calm and steady and easy to work with. She was also, Lenardo realized for the first time, a soft, warm woman. His reaction startled him, but it vanished instantly once he recognized it. Thank the gods, I can control the beast when I try!

To enable Vona to visualize the blockage, Lenardo chalked the dimensions of the clogged pipe on the paving stones and then held a stick upright over the center, marking it as he said, "This deep to the top of the pipe, this deep to the bottom."

Vona studied the markings and then sat down cross-legged in the roadway and began to concentrate. Heat smoldered through the debris in the pipe. Parts of it charred, but not enough to unblock the pipe. Lenardo told Vona what was happening, encouraging her. But as her heart pounded and her breathing grew ragged, he had to stop her.

"Sorry, men, you'll have to dig this one up," he told them, and chalked the joinings of the pipe on the roadway.

When Vona had rested, she and Lenardo moved down the street, where they removed two other clogs in the pipe and located another that would not respond. Soon lunch arrived. Lenardo, who had not been able to face breakfast, found his appetite returned. The workmen and Vona ate at least three times what Lenardo did, including the usual large slices of meat, but the novelty of Lenardo's vegetarian diet had worn off, and talk was of other things.

When he was sure that Vona would not faint along the way, Lenardo sent her home and directed the workmen to the second section of pipe to be dug up. The second pipe was harder to get at, for it had at some time leaked around the joining, and the earth surrounding it had become as solid as stone. Clay pipe was scarce. They had enough to replace without breaking any that could be salvaged.

As they approached the pipe, Lenardo took a pick and began to work around the most delicate area himself, enjoying putting his back into the hard labor. The afternoon was warm, and all of them stripped to the least clothing possible. Lenardo took off his tunic and refastened it around his waist as a sort of loincloth.

He was concentrating on the difficulty of landing heavy blows to break through the mortarlike earth without striking the clay pipe, when he was interrupted by a feminine voice.

"What in the world are you doing?"

Lenardo turned to find Aradia watching him in surprise and amusement.

"My lord's doing work we can't, milady," the head of the work crew immediately said defensively, "nor our Adept talents can't handle it."

"We're clearing a blocked pipe," Lenardo explained.

"By hand? When you have a Lady Adept available?"

"Lady Aradia, you are my guest," said Lenardo. "I did not invite you to clean the sewers."

She burst into rich laughter and said, "Come out of there, all of you. Why should you put such hard labor into something I can do in a moment?"

The workers were quick enough to scramble out of the hole, with a grateful "Yes, my lady." Lenardo climbed out more slowly and explained the situation, trying very hard not to be embarrassed.

As Aradia did it, the job was easy. The pipe did not have to be dug up and its contents scraped out; rather, when fire did not work, she concentrated, and the impacted mass crumbled into dust that would wash away as soon as water was turned into the pipe.

"Now," she said, "is there anything more like that? As long as I'm here, Lenardo, let me help you. I will certainly never hesitate to call on your services."

It occurred to him that she might be testing her powers, and so he said, "If you really don't mind, you can save us several days of work," and led her into the next street on his agenda, telling the workmen to quit for the day once they had filled in their last dig.

Aradia made no reference to yesterday's debacle; nor did she seem the least bit embarrassed. She wants to forget it, Lenardo thought. So do I, if I only could. But he was surprised at her ease with him.

They worked their way up the street toward the forum, with Lenardo Reading and Aradia clearing the pipes. Where there were broken spots, Lenardo chalked instructions for the workmen to follow tomorrow, but with Aradia's help he completed as much in an hour as he could do with the workmen in two days.

Perhaps it was the incredible mundaneness of the task that made it so natural for them to work together. Healing a sorcerer of a brain tumor, fighting in a battle won by Adept power-those were rare occurrences that by now seemed almost dreams, or stories the bards sang. Their repair of pipes was real, the sort of unromantic but extremely important work that Readers and Adepts would one day routinely do together.

"Why are you so intent on the pipes?" Aradia asked.

"It's easy to repair them now," Lenardo explained. "Once there's heavy traffic in these streets, such repairs become a nuisance. This quadrant of the city will house everyone for the winter. These are old Aventine buildings. The houses.have hot-water heating systems that I hope to restore. But maybe I won't have to restore them."

"What do you mean?"

"Drakonius rewarded his officers with property like this, letting them take whatever rent they could force from the tenants. I also plan to give out some of these buildings as rewards, but I hope the new owners will put them in repair and rent out the apartments reasonably."

"Apartments," said Aradia. "Rents." She shook her head. "I chose the right person to give a city. I've never lived in one, so I had no idea how a city is run. It doesn't have to be ugly and duty, overcrowded, and infested with rats, does it?"

"I take it you were in Zendi when it was under Drakonius' rule?"

"Only when I had to be. I don't think it would have occurred to me to begin improvements with the underground pipes. In fact, I wouldn't have known they were there."

"But you would never have allowed garbage in the streets," said Lenardo. "Before we cleared the first sewer line, our biggest problem was persuading people not to throw everything into the streets but to take it to the waste stations to be burned. Now we're trying to teach people what cannot go into the drains. I didn't realize they didn't know, and our newly cleared sewer line was clogged the very day it was opened."

Aradia laughed. "The glamorous occupation of ruling a land. No, I'm not laughing at you. I'm remembering two years ago, when in the worst heat of the summer, Wulfston and I had to go out among the swine to stop an epidemic of running sores. It was bad enough going into the mud wallows, enduring the stink, but there were also clouds of stinging flies. I could keep them off me until I would focus on healing an animal. Then, while I was concentrating, the flies would settle all over me." She shook herself as if shaking off the insects. "I prefer a nice comfortable job like cleaning out sewers."

They reached another clog in the pipe. Lenardo Read it carefully and said, "There's a pocket of explosive gas here."

"Explosive gas?"

"Yes, the matter in the pipes creates it. Occasionally, we find a spot like this, so airtight that the gas has not leaked away over the years. There's a huge pocket of it under Southgate, where the culvert out of the city collapsed years ago. It's very deep underground."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Not so long as no spark of fire can get at it. One day, when we begin work in that area, we'll have to put a shaft down and release the gas. But doing that before we're ready to work there would create a dangerous constant gas leak. It's better left alone."

"How do we get rid of the pocket of gas here?"

"I've been marking such places to be dug up with caution, for one spark-"

"I understand. But I can make a crack in the earth to release the gas. Show me where."

Under Aradia's concentration, the paving stones separated, forming an uneven line not wide enough to insert a finger.

"Now the pipe," said Lenardo. "A small crack won't harm its function." A snap rose from the fissure, followed by a soft whoosh of released gas. Aradia, who had been holding her breath, sniffed cautiously. "I don't smell anything."

"Marsh gas," said Lenardo. "It forms in mines sometimes, too. The fact that it's odorless makes it very dangerous. It takes a Reader to detect it."

His heart gave a heave of guilt as he suddenly realized how careless he had been today. It had not occurred to him to test whether he still had the sensitivity to distinguish gases-and if he had not, he could have blown up himself, his work crew, AradiaHe swallowed hard and made a mental note to test himself before taking on any more "routine" tasks. Aradia, meanwhile, cleared the pipe and let the earth settle back over it. They continued on, talking as they worked, as much in harmony as if yesterday had never happened.

Lenardo was so busy Reading the pipes under the street that he was not Reading Aradia, nor was he paying attention to the time. The afternoon dwindled into shadow as the sun dropped behind the buildings, although there was still sunlight in the open forum they approached. An entire street done in one afternoon; if, that is, they cleared one more blockage.

"This is the last one," Lenardo said as he chalked the marks to guide Aradia.

For the first time, instead of Reading on ahead, he watched her. She was wearing a pale wheat-colored silk dress, the same color as her hair, no robe over it, as she had come out in the warmth of the afternoon. Now Lenardo saw her shiver slightly. Yet he was not cold, even barelegged and bare-chested. Aradia's body was exhausted.

It had not occurred to him to keep watch on Aradia the way he did on Vona. This work should have been nothing to her strength. Her powers were diminished just as his were. Why hadn't she said something?

"Aradia, that's enough," he said. "You're worn out."

"Oh, no," she replied. "Why, this much I can-" She staggered, half fainting.

Lenardo caught her, held her against him to support her, panic rising and then subsiding as her heart recovered its strong, steady beat. She clung to him for a moment and then stood on her own. He saw that the grime on his body from the dusty, sweaty work he'd been doing had transferred itself to her cheek, her hands, and all down the front of her dress.

When she realized what had happened, Aradia laughed. "I'm sorry," Lenardo began.

"It's nothing," she replied. "I can clean the dress, but tomorrow, I think. For myself, I'll make use again of your luxurious bathhouse."

"It's just closed," he said. "I'll have water brought-" "Lenardo," said Aradia, "that is your bathhouse. You can use it any time you want, and I doubt that ever in your life have you needed it more."

He was far dirtier than she was, although it was certainly not the first time. Ordinarily, he stopped early enough to use the last half hour of the men's time in the baths.

"These are no attendants now, but you're right, of course. There's no reason I can't go in and scrub off this grime." "Good," she said. "I'll get a clean dress and meet you there." She set off toward her pavilion.

Lenardo went for clean clothes and then got the key to the bathhouse from the attendant, who took one look at him and made no query as to why he wanted it. The only reason the bathhouse was locked at night was Lenardo's fear that children might sneak in and drown. Unlike the small bathhouse at the Academy, this one had a frigidar-ium pool big enough to swim in.

There were a number of changing rooms, but Aradia followed Lenardo into one near the hot bath. Having done plenty of sweating in his work today, he planned simply to scrub off the grime and then take a brief swim.

When Aradia hung her clean clothes on the peg beside his, he said, "Uh… do you want to bathe first, Aradia? I'll go and-"

"There are no attendants, Lenardo. We'll have to attend each other." "Aradia, surely-"

"Lenardo, when you can Read right through clothing, how can nudity mean anything to you? How can you be so modest?"

"After yesterday, how can you ask such a thing?" he asked bitterly, immediately regretting having brought up the subject.

He had turned away from her. Aradia circled him until they were face to face. "You know I wanted you, or I could have stopped you. It shouldn't have happened that way, Lenardo, but I wanted it to happen. And you promised you wouldn't hurt me again. I believe you."

I'll never touch you again! he thought, but she was the one touching him, her hand on his arm, on the dragon's-head brand. It seemed to leap into flame.

Aradia was looking up at him expectantly. "Come on," she said. "I've scrubbed your back before. Now it's your turn to scrub mine."

How could she be so casual? Perhaps because she was too tired to feel desire, she thought that he was. He couldn't seem to convince anyone that Reading took no energy, and today he had done only half the physical labor he was capable of.

Although the furnace had been banked for the night, the water in the caldarium was still quite warm. Totally un-selfconscious, Aradia plunged into the water, emerged, and began lathering her body with the soap that was so plentiful in the savage lands. Lenardo remained soaking, stretching his muscles, until Aradia said, "You promised to scrub my back."

He hadn't, but he couldn't decide whether it would be more embarrassing to argue with her or do as she asked. Then he realized that she was making a gesture of trust. Perhaps she knew that he needed to prove to himself that he could touch her without erupting into mindless lust.

He climbed out of the pool and lathered her back and shoulders, being very careful to remain as detached as when, as a young teacher, he had sometimes had to scrub the smallest boys at the Academy, for budding Readers showed the same affinity for mud as any other little boys.

When he did not go beyond the slender contours of her back, Aradia relaxed against his hands. "Rub harder. Oh, that feels good.''

He kneaded her shoulders, Reading the tenseness of the muscles give way. She seemed to be bouncing back from her exhaustion; perhaps a meal and a night's sleepShe turned in his arms and said, "My turn," starting to lather soap onto Lenardo's chest.

"That's not my back."

"Oh, but you are dirty all over," she replied, reaching up to work the soap through his hair and beard. "I know how to do it. I've bathed you before-remember?"

"At the time, I couldn't stop you."

"Do you want to stop me now?" Her wide eyes invited candor.

"No," he replied, "and that is why I must."

"Lenardo-" there was a terrible uncertainty in her voice, "-do you really not want me?"

Her utter vulnerability struck through him like a sword of ice. "Of course I want you," he said harshly, "but look what I've done to you already."

The hurt in the depths of her eyes abated slightly. "I think," she whispered, and he Read how immensely difficult it was for her to say it, "if we tried, we could make it worth… anything."

What had he done to her? What was she doing to him that her foolish words seemed to make perfect sense, that he suddenly didn't care if he woke up tomorrow a nonReader if he could have Aradia? What did it matter what they did together, as long as it was together? Hadn't he just spent one of the happiest days of his life cleaning out sewers?

"Aradia," he said, bemused at the beauty of her name. He knew the words but had never dreamed they might apply to him. "I love you."

Her violet eyes lit with joy, and then her arms went around his neck as he felt dread sorrow give way to happiness. He kissed her then, gently, tenderly, tensed against the beast that had been roused yesterday. But no animal lust stirred in him, although desire sang sweetly in his blood as their soap-slick bodies slid easily against each other. His beard was full of soap, and in a moment they both had a mouthful of lather and drew apart, giggling like children.

Plunging into the warm pool, they rinsed each other, hands exploring bodies, Lenardo marveling at his own exuberance, untouched by any hint of violence. When they emerged and toweled off, he kissed Aradia again, easily quelling his impatience when he Read that she was glowing in response to his touch but nowhere near ready for completion of the act.

He knew that sex ought to be as pleasant and satisfying for a woman as for a man. What he didn't know was how to make it that way. Reading, though, even if he could not reach Aradia's thoughts, made it possible to discover what pleased her. He sensed fear beneath her desire and knew that he would have to gain her trust. He dared not pause to question by what miracle the desire remained.

They needed a comfortable couch; the marble floor was cold and uninviting. His practical nature suggested that they dress and return to Aradia's pavilion, but some new instinct told him that it would be devastating to break their mood that way.

There were massage tables in a nearby room, too high and narrow for lovemaking but covered with soft mats. He carried Aradia in there and set her down on one of the tables.

She laughed. "We'll fall off!"

"Just stay there, safe from the dragons, my lady, while I prepare a bower."

"I don't want to be safe from all the dragons," she said as Lenardo stripped the clean coverings off the other tables laid ready for morning, put the mats on the floor, and covered them with the clean cloth. As he did so, he became aware that Aradia was watching his body as he moved, the play of his muscles as he bent and stretched. His faint embarrassment was overshadowed by his delight that she found pleasure in the sight of him.

When he had finished, he turned and looked at Aradia, letting himself for the first time in his life be completely immersed in the sight of a beautiful woman. Her skin was ivory, marbled with faintest shadows of blue veins where her blood flowed near the surface. Her breasts were small and round, lifted pertly, inviting his caress. Only because her waist was tiny did her hips curve in womanly fashion; she was slender as a boy, her legs molded into smooth contours from walking, running, and riding. Her hands and feet were small, her wrists and ankles so slender, it seemed they might snap like twigs. Everything about her fragile appearance belied the enormous power she could command.

As Lenardo moved toward her, his gaze focused on her face, flushed with expectancy. Her lips, already swollen with his kisses, were slightly parted; her violet eyes were dark with passion. She had fastened her luxurious hair on top of her head for bathing, but soft tendrils had come loose, creating a halo about her face.

His heart pounding, Lenardo kissed her once more, gently exploring, feeling her respond eagerly when he did not demand. Some guiding force led him to trail gentle kisses down the soft column of her neck, to tickle the hollow of her throat with his tongue. Her hand stroked his hair, wordlessly encouraging. When he kissed her breasts, she gasped softly, and her heart began to pound in expectation.

When he finally lifted her from the table, she cried softly, "Yes. Take me to the dragon's lair. Devour me!"

He found her eager for him, moving with him in a natural rhythm. Lenardo was wide open to anything he might Read in Aradia but otherwise no longer controlling, rising on waves of shared passion until with a small cry Aradia melted into bliss, triggering Lenardo helplessly to follow, soaring and then floating, this time to a fully conscious sense of satisfaction for both of them.

Aradia did not have to push his weight off her. He turned onto his back, gathering her against him, touching her and Reading her at once to be sure she was real. She snuggled against him, drifting in contentment, one hand caressing his chest, fingers twining in the hair growing there.

"I love you," he repeated, and when she turned her face up, he kissed her again.

"I knew we were meant for each other," said Aradia. "Mmm. I could stay here forever."

"No one's going to chase us away."

Aradia pulled herself up to kiss Lenardo's forehead, his eyes, even the tip of his nose. "Can a Reader live on love?" she asked.

"I feel as if I could."

"I fear I'm not so romantic," she said in mock sadness. "I'm hungry."

Lenardo laughed. "Shall I have supper served here?"

"No. I don't want to share this with anyone else," She rose to her knees. "I don't want to share you with anyone else, but I'll manage."

Lenardo sat up, and they kissed again. He never wanted to stop touching her.

"Let's swim first," said Aradia, "then go and eat. And then-"

"And then we'll see what happens," agreed Lenardo as they climbed to their feet. "Oh, my-I'll have to put this room back in order first."

He carried the rumpled sheets out to the linen hamper. When he returned with clean coverings, he found that Aradia had already replaced the mats on the tables. She stood back and watched as he flung the sheets open and each one settled, unwrinkled and perfectly aligned.

Then they swam, dressed, and returned to Lenardo's house for a huge meal. He found himself eating more than usual, even a piece of fish, although he had had eggs for lunch. He had become used to having meat on the table, as he frequently had guests. Tonight, though, the roast actually smelled good, and he didn't avoid looking at Aradia as she consumed great quantities of it. Love does the strangest things!

Although the day that had so changed Lenardo's life seemed long, it was far from over. They had not even been late to supper. Lenardo Read no suspicion of what had happened, although he was sure that his happiness was plain on his face.

For he was happy, strangely, ecstatically happy and unwilling to break the mood by giving thought to the future. Aradia had her own land to rule; soon she would return to Castle Nerius, and it might be months before he saw her again. But tonight, with Aradia falling asleep in his arms under the pale, milky glow of the white pavilion, all he could feel was that at last he knew contentment.

The next morning, not wanting to upset himself and thus Julia, Lenardo did not attempt to leave his body but simply Read Wulfston's castle. As he had located it yesterday, the contact was much easier today. The lesson went well, and when it was over, Julia said, //You're better today. I can tell.//

//Yes, Julia, much better.//

//I'm glad. I'm sorry I got so frightened.//

Ill understand,// Lenardo told her. Ill worry about you, too.// Sensing her desire to retain contact, he asked, //Has Lord Wulfston put you to work yet?//

Julia was only too delighted to give him a detailed account of her activities, which included Reading the foundations of Wulfston's castle so that the architect could take advantage of what was already there. She had made fast friends with the stableboy by warning him of a pebble caught in the hoof of Wulfston's gray mare. That would have earned the boy a beating from the head groom had the horse gone lame while the Lord of the Land was riding it. Relieved of her worry over Lenardo, Julia was clearly enjoying herself. He left her to convey his greetings to Wulfston and went about the day's business with a light heart.

It seemed to be one of Lenardo's flashes of premonition: he knew that Aradia was not going to leave him. No matter how often he told himself that it was wishful thinking, the conviction remained, and he moved in a cloud of good cheer.

Late in the morning, Aradia joined Lenardo at the repair of a burned-out warehouse. Scaffolding had been built across from the buildings on either side, and with great effort men were hoisting heavy roof beams up. Arkus and Josa stood ready to attempt to keep the beams from swinging out of control when the workmen tried to put them in place.

The newly married couple glowed with happiness.I know how you feel, thought Lenardo, but he was surprised a while later to discover Arkus studying him, putting his manner together with the rumor that he had spent the past two nights in Aradia's pavilion and dismissing the obvious conclusion as ridiculous.

Aradia told Arkus and Josa not to waste their strength and guided the beams into place herself. It didn't seem to tire her at all.

"I wasn't moving the beams," she explained. "The workmen were. I don't think there's ever been an Adept with the strength to move something that heavy straight up in the air. All I did was let the chance swinging of the beam allow it to go right into place."

"Now wait," said Lenardo. "If you*were guiding the swinging of the beam, then chance was not operating."

"Yes it was," she insisted. "There were all kinds of chances as to what the beam would do. I simply encouraged the chance that it would swing right into place."

"I'll never learn to think like an Adept."

"You should," said Aradia. "Your Adept talents could be doing much more with far less effort if you knew how to train them. Either Arkus or Josa could have done that job alone today, but the way they do it, trying to will the beam to go where they want it instead of letting it go in the right direction, they exhaust themselves."

"I'm not sure I understand the distinction," said Lenardo, "but I hope you'll teach it to Arkus and Josa."

"It's simply understanding nature," Aradia explained. "You see if there is any way what you want done would happen naturally, and then you let it happen that way. For example, you are in a valley, and a rock dislodges above you. If it comes bouncing down the hillside, what do you do?"

"Me? I run out of its path, hoping it doesn't bounce in my direction."

"And if you were an Adept?"

"I suppose… I could guide the rock to bounce away from me. Oh, I see-I think. The chances that it would land right on me are not very high, anyway, so I shouldn't waste energy forcing it to the other end of the valley but just concentrate on having it not hit me."

"Very good," she said. "Now, instead of a valley, you're in a canyon. A rock dislodges from the top and is falling straight down on you. As an Adept, what do you do?"

He thought a moment. "My guess is that it would be almost impossible for an Adept to change the path of a heavy free-falling object. So I run out from under it."

Aradia waited a moment and then said, "Right, as far as you've gone. But a rock falling from such a height is going to bounce-"

"And I have to see that by chance it doesn't bounce right on me," Lenardo said with a laugh. "Would that I could, not that I have often been threatened by falling rocks." Recalling the earthquake that had almost brought the Adigia Academy down on him, he added, "Only once." Then he said seriously, "Will you stay here in Zendi long enough to teach some of this to Arkus and Josa and the others? I don't think they've had any formal training in using their talents."

"People with a single talent usually don't. Wulfston and I worked with a few around Castle Nerius. My father's idea of Academies for Adepts, though-"

"Why not?" asked Lenardo.

She took his hand. "Think a moment. Suppose you had a group of people with Adept talents, trained since childhood. Together, they might be as strong as a Lord Adept or even two or three. And if they were guided by a Reader…"

"That is the second time you have suggested it, Aradia."

"Yes, for if it is on my mind, it will be on others'. Here, in your land, is where the first Academy must be, protected by the lands of your allies. Because you are not an Adept, it will not appear to those who might be your enemies as a preparation to mount an offensive. As time passes and you do not use your trained Adept talents to conquer, you will earn more trust."

"Aradia," he said in amazement.

"No, Lenardo, I have not lost my head along with my heart. You must be prepared to defend yourself at all times. Lilith, Wulfston, and I know you. We have fought side by side. Other allies will come."

In the next few days, Aradia spent part of each day teaching Lenardo's people with Adept talents to use them more efficiently. She also helped in the construction work and the continuing job of repairing the water and sewer systems. Their bath together at the end of each day became a ritual, and by now everyone knew that it was no rumor that Lenardo spent his nights in Aradia's pavilion.

However, they did not make love again. It was enough to lie in one another's arms, warm and content. Reading what little he could of Aradia, Lenardo suspected that she was waiting to see how much of her Adept strength returned. As he hoped that his own skills would also approach normal again, he curbed the desire that the sight and touch of her body awoke in him and learned to appreciate their simple nearness. His range of Reading seemed to be returning to normal, as was the clarity of his perceptions. Something kept him from further attempts to leave his body; perhaps it was that he was so thoroughly enjoying being within it.

Soon Wulfston would bring Julia home, though, and before that she would get her promised excursion to the sea. Lenardo would have to try his powers then and face explaining his apparent hypocrisy to his daughter on her return. Julia would not be in Zendi for an hour before she would know of his time spent with Aradia, and her devious little mind would quickly draw the proper, or improper, conclusion.

But Lenardo would deal with those problems when they arose. For the moment, he had a growing relationship with Aradia, and a sweet contentment he had not known even in the Academy.

One cool, bright morning, Lenardo was listening to Helmuth's report on agricultural plans for next year, doing nothing more than agree, as he knew little about farming. As usual, he was neither trying to Read Helmuth nor completely blocking against Reading.

Suddenly a shock of pure terror struck through his gut, along with the sensation of being hurled upward, falling, and intense, unbearable pain. He screamed in agony before he could shut it out, and then he found Helmuth on his feet, his face white, staring at him. "My lord-"

"An explosion," Lenardo gasped. "Near Northgate. The man's still alive. Get Sandor!" As he ran out, he added, "Get Aradia. Hurry!"

He was breathless by the time he arrived at the site of the tragedy, both from running halfway across the city and from Reading the victim's pain. Aradia was already on the scene, trailed by Greg and Vona. She glanced up at Lenardo, saying, "I heard him scream," and returned her concentration to the injured man, putting him to sleep.

It was easy enough to see what had happened. One of the workers digging around the foundation of a warehouse, to repair a crack before it weakened the structure, had struck a yet-uncleared sewer line with a pocket of gas in it. His metal pick must have produced a spark, and the pipe had exploded, slamming the man against the wall of the building.

He had slight superficial burns, not serious, but the blow had broken his left arm and leg, which had hit the wall.

"Where is the internal bleeding?" Aradia was asking. How did she know that? Then Lenardo actually looked at the man he had been Reading and saw that his lips were turning blue. "Two broken ribs have pierced his lung."

"Guide me," said Aradia, laying her hands over the man's side.

This, Lenardo understood, was working against nature, forcing the broken ribs to withdraw and return to place. An Aventine surgeon might have done it by cutting into the man's chest, but in the time it took, the patient might bleed to death. If he lived, he would develop an infection untreatable with the antiseptics they understood. But Aradia could work in the knowledge that if she saved the man immediately, she could drive out any infection with healing fire.

When the ribs were back in place, Lenardo Read the bleeding veins and arteries, while Aradia, in such rapport with him that a single word seemed to guide her to the right spot, joined them and then closed the punctures in the lung tissue.

The man was out of danger now. Worried that Aradia would use up her strength, Lenardo said, "Let Sandor take care of his burns and broken bones. He's good at that."

"They're not simple fractures," Aradia said. "He'll be lame if his leg is not set right."

Sandor, who had been hovering nearby for some time, said, "It's a blessing you are here, my lady. I don't think I could have saved him, even with Lord Lenardo's help. But now we should take him to my house so that after the bones are set, he won't have to be moved again."

Several boards were quickly lashed together, and the injured man was carefully lifted onto them and carried to the house near the bathhouse, where the infirmary was. It was an elegant home, with which Sander's wife was greatly pleased, although Lenardo's main motivation in giving it to the healer was the central location and the size, which permitted a number of rooms to be used as a hospital and still leave plenty of room for the family.

Aradia did not seem inordinately fatigued. "When we healed Nerius," Lenardo said, "although it took a long time because the work was so delicate, it was certainly not so much work as you have done already today. Yet both you and Wulfston were so exhausted that you collapsed."

"Oh, no," she replied, "that was enormously harder work. We didn't just move my father's tumor, we destroyed it. There was no Way to burn it or otherwise remove it in a natural way. It had to be disintegrated, made not to be. That was more against nature than any work I have ever done before or since."

Made not to be. A chill went through Lenardo as he realized the implications of what he had Read but not understood. I didn't understand because I could not conceive of such a thing. He still could not, but he let it pass. There was work to be done.

Lenardo, Aradia, and Sandor set to work on the injured man's arm and leg. It was tedious work, combining physical manipulation wherever they could with Adept influence to align the bones and set every chip and splinter back in place. Again, Lenardo found an astonishing rapport with Aradia. The work did not seem to tire her beyond what the same amount of physical labor would have done. Perhaps she had regained her full strength. Lenardo was glad. He no longer wanted to blunt her powers.

When they finally finished, it was late afternoon. Sandor, pale and drawn, was assured that his patient was healing now and was sent off to sleep himself.

"You should sleep, too, Aradia," said Lenardo.

"Oh, I will, but first I want a bath and some food."

"I can't believe you're not as tired as Sandor. You did far more of the work."

"But I am a Lady Adept, fully empowered. I am bone-weary, Lenardo, but I won't collapse. Give me a good meal and let me sleep through till I wake on my own, and tomorrow I won't know I did all that today."

They found the patient's wife waiting in the hall, three children clustered around her. She had already been told that her husband would recover fully, and her gratitude rang far beyond her inadequate words.

"Your husband's going to be just fine," Lenardo told her. "If you and your children need anything before he's better, come to me."

The woman managed a smile at Lenardo's naivete. "Brad ain't my husband, not like fine ladies got. But he's my man, and these is his children. I guess we're just stuck like glue."

"Some people are," Aradia murmured. "Now, don't you worry. You can go in and look at your man if you want to, but he'll be sound asleep for several days. Then you'll have to care for him until he gets his strength back."

"Oh, my lady, 'twas fate you was nearby! The other men said Brad was so scared he didn't even cry out."

As she and Lenardo left the building, Aradia said in a puzzled tone, "I know I heard him scream. That's why I came running."

"You must have heard the explosion."

"No, I don't remember hearing that at all, just a scream of such fear and pain-" She shivered.

"Whatever brought you there, I'm thankful," said Lenardo. "I am partly responsible for what happened to Brad. I Read the crack in the foundation, and I Read the sewer line close to the buildings along there and warned them not to break it."

"Well, then, it was the man's own carelessness."

"No, it was mine. I didn't even think to Read for gas in those pipes. Then that work was interrupted for the festival, and the workmen had proabably forgotten all about my warning by the time they got back to it." He sighed. "There ought to be a Reader checking every work crew every day. A child could have prevented the accident today, not by Reading the gas but by Reading the pipe."

Aradia studied him, but it was obvious that she was too tired to concentrate. "Lenardo, we will talk tomorrow. Right now I need a bath, a good meal, and sleep."

Although she knew that she would be virtually unconscious from the moment she lay down, Aradia insisted that Lenardo come and sleep with her. He finished his interrupted work, inspected the city as he did each evening without leaving his room-but with more thoroughness than usual-and then crossed the forum to Aradia's pavilion. The guards and Aradia's maid said pleasantly, "Good night, my lord," as he passed. His presence on this night when Aradia was already deep in the Adepts' recuperative sleep confirmed their certainty that whatever the reason a Reader and a Lady Adept were spending their nights together, it wasn't sex.

Lenardo slept almost as deeply as Aradia but woke as the pale light of early dawn filtered into the pavilion. Beside him, Aradia lay curled up on her side, her hair spread across the pillow, the covers pulled up to her chin against the chill of early morning. I think it's time, he told himself, that I stop having the rain diverted around Zendi and invite Aradia into my house. But instead, she might leave. Yes, Lenardo admitted, he knew perfectly well why up to now he had avoided suggesting the obvious.

Aradia would probably not waken before noon, but he had time before he had to be up, and so he lay comfortably in the warm bed and Read outward. In the outer chamber, Aradia's maid was also sleeping. Outside the pavilion, her guards were moving back and forth to keep awake until their replacements came. Otherwise, the forum was empty, but Lenardo Read a few early risers wakening here and there. Soon, from his own house, Dom came to fill buckets at the fountain, and he read Cook poking the kitchen maid to make her get up and start work.

It was a shivery cool morning with a promise of autumn. Lenardo began to Read visually to enjoy the beauty of the sunrise. It was something he did perhaps four or five times a year, but each time it brought back the morning he had taken seven-year-old Torio up to the Academy tower and let the little blind boy see the sunrise through his eyes. Master Clement had scolded Lenardo, who had just passed his own exams the year before, for awakening in the boy a yearning for something he would not be able to do for a year or more. But within six months Torio was Reading visually with ease, and Lenardo was quite certain that it was because he had learned to want to see such beauty.

This morning the sunrise was equally beautiful, breaking through the clouds in a palette of magnificent colors. I wonder if Torio is watching the sunrise today.

As effortlessly as forming the thought, Lenardo was in a room he had never seen before, where Torio, still in his nightshirt, was standing "looking" out the window. Before the boy's sightless eyes were the buildings of a city, blocking any view of the sun until it was far overhead. But Torio was indeed watching the sunrise, seeing it in unrestricted glory by Reading.

Confused, Lenardo wondered where the boy could be, so close by? And then he recognized the city: Tiberium.

Heart pounding, Lenardo sat up in shock, but even so he lost neither clarity nor contact. He was really Reading Tiberium, and directly, all the way from Zendi, without leaving his body!

But that's impossible!

//What's im- Master Lenardo! Is that you?//

Beside Lenardo, Aradia woke with a start. "What's wrong?"

Not knowing what to tell Torio, Lenardo withdrew without confirming contact. Let the boy think it was his imagination.

"Nothing's wrong," he assured Aradia, although he did not at all understand what had happened. Could it have been my imagination?

"Did you have a bad dream?" Aradia asked. "I was having such a beautiful dream until you shouted and woke me up."

"I didn't shout," he said. "That must have been part of your dream."

She laughed. "Yes, you did. As clearly as anything, you said, "That's impossible!' "

Could he have said it aloud? Never. Not after all his years of training. He was not delirious now. But how could Aradia know? Yesterday she had heard a scream that wasn't uttered. But that is completely impossible.

"Will you stop saying it's impossible and tell me what you're talking about?"

"Aradia," he whispered as chills crawled up his spine. "Tell me what you were dreaming."

"Mmm? It wasn't prophetic or anything. I was just watching the most beautiful sunrise." At his stricken look she broke off, eyes wide. "Lenardo, were you Reading me?" she asked in a small, frightened voice.

"No," he said, slowly shaking his head. "Aradia, you were Reading me."

"But that's-" her eyes searched his "impossible?"

He nodded. "Exactly what I was thinking."

"Coincidence?"

//I was Reading the sunrise,// he projected at the intense level used to test children.

"Well, at this time of day, anyone-" She froze. "You didn't say that, did you?"

//No.//

No. It can't be!

//Obviously it can be, for it is.

Her eyes grew wide with terror, and she reached for Lenardo, overwhelming him with panic as she clung to him, pleading, "No. Stop it. Tell me how to make it stop!"