Empress Unborn

Chapter Two

Julia and Aradia remained at Castle Blackwolf, waiting and hoping for Wulfston and Lenardo to return.

As weeks passed with no word, their fears grew; the Africans’ plot was far more devious than it had seemed at first.

Sukuru and Chulaika wanted Wulfston, but he would not cooperate. They had had both Wulfston and Lenardo helplessly drugged-they could as easily have kidnapped the two men together. Instead, they took only Lenardo, knowing that with Aradia pregnant, it was Wulfston who would follow. They must be holding Lenardo hostage to force Wulfston to fight for them.

If they had taken the two men together…

“We were fools to tell them how well we work together,” Aradia told Julia. “They know better than to take Lenardo and Wulfston on the same ship-they’d have taken over the crew the moment they woke up, and been back here the next day.”

“The moment Wulfston finds Father,” Julia said, “they’ll escape.”

“But Wulfston can’t Read,” Aradia reminded her. “Lenardo can’t contact him except through Astra. If they can knock her out, or separate her from Wulfston… that could be why it’s taking so long.”

As the days dragged on, the two women often repeated the same conversation, encouraging each other not to think of all the possible reasons there was no word of the two men.

Although there was no invasion fleet from Africa,

Wulfston’s lands could not be left unprotected. His network of minor Adepts gathered at the castle, along with several Magister Readers and a dozen from the Path of the Dark Moon, while reinforcements were sent from Tiberium to aid the Watchers along his coasts and borders.

Then one day, when Julia was helping a healer to direct his powers toward eradicating a tumor in a boy’s knee, she felt the touch of Master Clement’s mind. “Go to your room, Julia. We must discuss what you and Aradia should do now.”

“But we’re healing-” she protested.

“Panatus can take over,” he told her.

Reluctantly, Julia turned her duties over to the young Magister Reader and went up to her room. She could, of course, have held the conversation with Master Clement anywhere, but it could be unnerving to nonReaders to have a Reader sitting apparently in a trance while she communicated with another Reader far away.

Aradia was also in the rapport, created by Master Clement all the way from Zendi. The Master of Masters was out of body for this communication, his mental voice firm and clear, similar to his normal speaking voice except that mentally he sounded younger than he really was.

“All precautions have now been taken to care for Lord Wulfston’s lands in his absence,” Master Clement told them. “It is time for you to return to Zendi.”

“But Lenardo-” Aradia began.

“When Lenardo returns, he will contact you from wherever he lands,” Master Clement pointed out.

“Aradia, the journey to Zendi is safe for you now. Later in your pregnancy it could be dangerous to your child. Also, I want you here, under observation of the best Readers we have.”

“Yes, Master Clement,” Aradia replied with uncharacteristic meekness. But she had an underlying reason. “With so many members of our alliance missing, our strongest Adepts should be centrally located in Zendi, prepared to moved in any direction from which an attack might come.”

“Until your child is born,” Master Clement agreed, “you should be sheltered here, protected by lands we hold on all sides.”

Julia wondered if Aradia could Read that Master Clement did not verbalize all his concerns. She had a lesson scheduled with him, so after Aradia had left the rapport to set their retainers to work preparing to leave Castle Blackwolf, she asked, “Do you fear an attack, Master?”

“An attack? Child, what would give you that idea?”

“Our situation might give anybody that idea,” she replied. “Since the Aventine Empire fell, we have more land than has ever been under one government before. But we have lost key members of our Alliance. Torio and Melissa are gone, and now Father and Wulfston. Lilith meant to leave her lands in the care of Zanos and Astra while she came to aid Aradia in her confinement. Her lands are bordered by enemies. If Zanos and Astra are not back by then, will she dare leave her lands with only her son to care for them? Ivorn’s not much older than I am.”

She clearly felt the old man’s surprise as he told her, “Julia, these are not problems for one so young.”

“But they are my problems,” she insisted. “Master Clement, the word will spread beyond our borders that Father and Wulfston are gone. Our best Reader, and one our strongest Lords Adept-and if the news of Aradia’s pregnancy spreads as well, they’ll know she can’t function at full strength. Don’t you think some of our neighbors might take this as the best time to attack?”

There was a pause. Then, “Yes, Julia, I do. However, they will mistake our vulnerability.”

“What?”

“Where do you think they will attack, child?”

“Along the northern borders-especially here, along Wulfston’s northern coast, and Lilith’s borders to the north and east.”

“Why do you think the attacks will come there?”

“Along those borders are lands which have refused our offers of peaceful trade agreements,” she replied. “With Wulfston gone, they’ll try for a foothold here. Lilith is a strong Adept, and her son is growing in power-they may attack now, knowing that once Ivorn comes into his full powers, they will face a much stronger adversary.”

“Yes, you are quite right. Now, Julia… if you wanted to attack our Savage Empire, knowing what you know, would you choose the same plan of attack?”

The way the question was worded, the answer was probably no. But then he would ask-

“Think of your father, when Aradia first gave him the city of Zendi,” Master Clement prompted.

Suddenly Julia knew. “Wulfston’s lands and Lilith’s, and Father and Aradia’s lands-their people will defend them to the death! They’ve known tyrants like Drakonius-and it’s worth fighting to remain part of the Savage Empire. We’re most vulnerable in the old Aventine Empire, where most people had a pretty good life under the Emperor’s rule. In only four years they haven’t had time to develop any loyalty-and lots of them see us as worse than the Emperor because we caused the earthquake in Tiberium.”

“Child, you are too wise for your years,” said Master-Clement. “Lenardo and Aradia are teaching you well. If Portia had treated the Readers she ruled as the members of our Alliance treat their people, they would not have turned against her. But we are wise if we can learn from the mistakes of others, and not make them all ourselves.

“Now,” he continued, “enough of government; Aradia and your father will teach you that. Show me what you have been practicing of Reading.”

Julia had been practicing her fine discernment, and earned praise from Master Clement when she showed him how she could Read something like the tumor in a boy’s knee down to the level of individual cells.

“Not Torio, not even your father, could Read so well at your age. Now show me distance.”

Julia enjoyed these lessons, for her horizons were constantly expanding. Reading was a joy-had been ever since Lenardo had first touched her mind and taken her out of her life as a misfit among the guttersnipes of Zendi. Once she understood the necessity for etiquette and protocol in someone who would rule her own lands one day, she had carefully developed her habits and her language until her teachers could find no fault.

She loved to learn-it was the one quarrel she had with her friend Galerio, for he found the fascinating knowledge she longed to share with him quite boring.

She demonstrated for Master Clement how far she could Read, and with what accuracy, then showed him her new skill at Reading other Readers without being detected. She Read Panatus, now helping the healer with one of many sessions to straighten the bones of a child who had suffered rickets before Lord Wulfston came to rule the land.

” Julia, that is not a skill for a Reader in training!” Master Clement chided. “Until you pass your exams to become a Magister Reader, you should not even try it.”

“Why not? I can do it-I learned it by Reading with Father when he does it.”

“Because, child, it takes a certain wisdom to use one’s skills properly. I understand how difficult it is for you to see that some kinds of wisdom come only with age.”

“Or experience,” she protested. “Father says I’ve seen a great deal for someone my age.”

“And I agree. However, you are also at the time of life when your body is changing-you are becoming a woman, Julia. Until you have become accustomed to the changes, they will affect your feelings, your judgment. Your body will affect your mind.”

“Then teach me to leave my body!” she asked eagerly. “I’m ready-you’ve tested all my skills. Let me take the next step.”

“If it were only your Reading skills,” he told her, “I would agree that you are ready. But moving beyond your body must wait until you have passed completely through puberty. So practice your other skills, Julia, and learn other things. Let Aradia teach you more languages. Study music-”

“I have no talent for music,” Julia protested. “When I tried to play the lute, it sounded like a sick cow.”

“Then by all means practice upon the lute! I shall set Master Juna to teaching you as soon as you return.”

If there was anything Julia hated, it was being made to do something she was not good at, and never would be. Her only hope was that Master Clement might forget this part of their conversation, so she did not argue-that would certainly set the notion firmly in his mind.

Her ploy, however, did not work. Hardly were she and Aradia back in Zendi when Master Juna was there with her lute and a schedule of lessons. And when she protested to both Aradia and Master Clement, she got the same answer from both: “Learn to play well enough to accompany singing, and it will suffice. It is good discipline for everybody to learn to do some things he has no great talent for.”

Aradia was glad to be back in Zendi, although her anxiety over Lenardo’s safety grew as the weeks passed with no word from him. If he and Wulfston were detained in Africa, surely there were ways to send messages! Traders came from the Nubian lands. Was neither man free to write or send a letter?

The expected attack came upon Wulfston’s northern border. Lilith and Ivorn rode to join Wulfston’s army. Readers and minor Adepts flocked to their aid, and the attacking force was repelled as easily as swatting a fly.

Aradia was pleased that the attack was so easily routed, but frustrated to be left in Zendi, far out of the action.

It was Julia who pointed out, “If you were not pregnant, you would still not have gone so far for a battle that was over before you could’ve arrived.”

Aradia had to smile. She had long ago accepted Lenardo’s adopted daughter-but now she was learning to love her. The girl had been a bundle of mischief before Master Clement took over her training, but she was growing up into a fine young woman.

Zendi was a thriving city now, rebuilt after the series of battles that had raged over it during its years in disputed territory. The old wood and mud-and-wattle buildings were replaced with stone; fire was no longer the plague it had once been. The water and sewer systems were back in repair, and Lenardo’s current project was to bring water and safe, comfortable heating into the homes of even the poorest of the citizens.

There was plenty for the Adepts and Readers to do: weather to be controlled so the crops would thrive, the sick and injured to be healed, the young people with their burgeoning talents to be trained.

The Academy system already existed to train young Readers, but there had never before been systematic training of those with minor Adept talents. Healers had apprenticed themselves to other healers, those with power over weather had been valued by the farmers, but the rest had generally used their powers sparingly, lest the local Lord Adept take too sharp a notice of potential rivals.

Then there was the ongoing research to bring out Adept talent in Readers, Reading in Adepts. Now that it was understood that the two talents were one, it was hard to see why so many who were skilled at one could not evoke the other. Wulfston longed to learn to Read, but had somehow never made the breakthrough. Master Clement only laughed when Aradia offered to teach him Adept tricks, saying, “I’m too old to start a new way of life. Teach Decius-he’s eager to learn.”

Decius was approaching his examinations for the rank of Magister Reader, a source of irritation to Julia.

“I’m a better Reader than he is,” she fumed, “but he gets to learn to go out of body and I don’t!”

“Decius is eighteen,” Aradia reminded her. “When you are his age, you’ll learn those techniques.”

She wished Decius and Julia were a little closer in age; she’d have much preferred Julia to focus her growing interest in the opposite sex on the young Reader than on her friend Galerio, a sixteen-year-old minor Adept who led a gang of youngsters with similar small talents. Aradia was hard put to explain why she didn’t like the boy. He had no family, and lived by his wits and talents. Normally she admired such spirit.

But neither Galerio nor any of the young people he led would attend the classes designed to help them make the best use of their abilities. “He doesn’t want you to tell him what to do with his life,” Julia explained.

“Julia, you know that’s not the purpose of the classes,” Aradia protested. “You’d be doing him a great favor if you could persuade him to attend.”

“He doesn’t listen to girls’ advice!” Julia exclaimed, and Aradia suddenly saw one reason Julia was fascinated by Galerio: he was one of the few people her age who did not treat her with the deference due Lenardo’s heir.

Decius might have been a similar challenge, if he had paid attention to Julia at all. Aradia decided to throw them together. She had a valid reason: both were powerful Readers, but neither had mastered a single Adept talent.

So she told Julia she wanted to work with her and Decius together, apart from her other pupils. Julia agreed eagerly-she longed to add Adept powers to her talents.

Decius arrived right on time, striding confidently despite the peg leg he wore. When he was only thirteen, he had lost his left leg in a battle Drakonius had taken into the very Academy at Adigia, where Decius had then been a student. Those wars were over now, but they had scarred an entire generation.

Decius’ scars were only physical. Emotionally, he was as sound as any young man Aradia knew-and today he was flushed with triumph as he joined Julia and Aradia in the private chamber where they would have their lesson. “It’s my day for learning!” he told them. “This morning I moved to another plane of existence-it’s even more exciting than going out of body!”

Aradia had never done either, but she knew that

Readers on the advanced levels could go into other dimensions, other… places, she supposed, where not even the best Readers could spy on them. Not physical places, though. For her, it was a strange concept-but she did not let it concern her, because she would have no occasion to try it. Let Lenardo worry about other planes of existence.

But she congratulated Decius, and then got down to the business at hand.

Before them on the table she placed a fireproof bowl, in which were shavings and tinder. “Fire is the easiest power to manifest,” she said for the thousandth time, “although one of the most difficult to master.

Never practice without an Adept skilled in fire control present.”

Julia said, “I’ve tried this a hundred times, Aradia. It won’t work. “

“It won’t work if you think it won’t,” said Decius. “I think it will.”

“Do you, Decius?” Aradia asked.

“Yes,” he said firmly.

“Then try. Concentrate. Envision the flames. Feel the heat. Put your mind to just that bowl, just the kindling-Decius, you’re Reading!”

He blinked, and looked at her. “Sorry,” he muttered, and returned to staring at the kindling. He was still Reading it, his disciplined mind probing the air passages beneath it, imagining how the draft would come up through-

“Decius-”

“Wait,” he forestalled her. “Let me-”

Suddenly he was blank to Reading-and the kindling burst into flame!

Decius sagged, catching himself by hanging on to the table. He stared at the bowl in astonishment, and a sudden grin seized his features. “I did it!” He looked at the two women. “I did it!”

“Show me how!” demanded Julia.

Decius smiled at her. “You just have to know you can. Really, Julia-Master Clement’s been trying to teach you that. All I did was take the feeling I had this morning, when I knew I could move to the plane of privacy, and apply it here-I made myself know I could do this in just the same way!”

“But I know I can do it,” said Julia, “and I still can’t!”

“Julia,” said Aradia, “you are getting upset. In that condition you won’t learn anything at all. Use your relaxation technique-”

“I don’t want to relax,” the girl fretted.“I want to start a fire.” She fished more kindling from a container by the empty fireplace and piled it into the bowl, where the original fire had quickly burned itself out.

“Julia, don’t,” said Aradia. “Not being able to do it when you are agitated will contribute to your belief that you can’t do it later, when you’ve calmed down.”

“Why don’t you want me to do it?” Julia demanded. “I’m as good as Decius! Master Clement teaches him to leave his body, but he won’t teach me. Now you teach him to start fires, and you won’t even let me try it. It’s not fairl” And the girl got up and stomped out of the room.

Decius rose, but Aradia put a hand on his arm. “Let her go. She’ll calm down. If we keep her here now, shell just go on arguing.”

“Girls sure are different from boys,” he observed.

“You’re an expert?” Aradia asked.

“I’m in charge of one of the boys’ dormitories at the Academy,” Decius explained. “It’s all right, except when I’m also on sleep duty. ‘

“Sleep duty?” she asked.

“Young Readers have to learn not to Read in their sleep-one boy with a nightmare would set off the whole group. Besides, you don’t want other Readers knowing your dreams. So we older students have to take turns staying awake, and waking up any of the little boys who start projecting dreams.” He shook his head. “It’s hard on them-I remember. But we’ve all got to learn, or we’d be afraid to go to sleep.

Dreams can be very embarrassing!”

“I know,” said Aradia, thinking of the strange dream she kept having about her unborn child. Any number of times she had started to tell Master Clement, but decided it was unimportant. Why shouldn’t she dream about what her daughter would look like as a young woman?

Fortunately, she had not had to go through the regimen Decius described when she learned to Read.

Lenardo said that when she dreamed, she seemed to brace her Adept powers automatically, which of course kept her from being Read.

“Now,” she said to Decius, “let’s see if you can light the fire again-and don’t work so hard at it!”

This time she had him smother the fire before it burned itself out, then rekindle it and direct the flames to consume specific bits of wood. Accustomed to the disciplines of a lifetime in the Academy, Decius learned quickly. Still, by the time she was satisfied he was panting with exertion, although he had not left his chair.

He leaned back, pleased with the day’s work.

“Now don’t be worried,” Aradia warned him, “if you can’t Read as well as usual until you get a nights sleep. And eat plenty of supper tonight-meat if there is any, but at least some fish. No arguments.”

“I’m not arguing,” he replied. “Lady Aradia, next lesson, would you teach me healing techniques? “

He gestured toward his left thigh, where the stump of his leg was hidden beneath his white tunic. Aradia understood. Decius refused to live at a slower pace than any other eighteen-year-old boy. As a result, the healers often had to heal bruises or blisters to his stump, no matter how they adjusted and padded the wooden leg.

“Of course,’ she said, knowing what a relief it would be for him to heal it himself. “You will probably learn quickly. I’m proud of you, Decius-what a day you’ve had!”

“Master Clement was right,” he told her. “The whole secret is in believing you can do it.”

“Then why can’t he learn Adept powers?” Aradia wondered.

“He could,” Decius replied. “But I can understand why he wont. Right now my Reading is… hazy. It’s frightening to have my powers diminished, and I’m not even a Magister Reader yet.” He smiled at her. “I guess it’s funny to you when I say I’m too old to adapt really well to having both powers.”

“You may never get to be any better at Adept powers than I am at Reading,” Aradia agreed.

“Perhaps not. But I wonder what the little children will be like-the ones growing up with both powers.

Will they be like the sorcerers Torio met in Madura?”

“I hope not! Those stories Zanos and Astra told, about cold fire that almost destroyed their land…”

Aradia shuddered. “Decius… you’re not still thinking of going to Madura to see if they can restore your leg?”

“Maybe, one day,” he said. “Not now. Whatever Torio found there, he was afraid to bring it back.

Melissa stayed to keep it confined to Madura. But Lady Aradia, if power exists, there are those who will seek to use it. I’m going to try to become as good an Adept as I am a Reader, because someday I may have to confront power such as we have.never seen in all our Savage Empire.”

Julia stormed out of the villa and walked northward, zigzagging through side streets until she came to the main north-south road, north of the forum.

Hordes of people crowded the wide street, buying and selling at the shops and stands. They were prosperous, not a single person in the rags or bedraggled finery that had been common in her childhood.

Stout farmers bought furbelows for their apple-cheeked wives, and sturdy children chased one another between the wagons or munched on sweets while staring wide-eyed at the passing throng.

Julia was often recognized. People gave her bows and curtsies as she passed, and she quickly cheered up. This prosperity was partly her doing, and she felt rightfully proud. When she opened to Reading, she felt the love of the people-they were happy, beginning to trust in the security Lenardo and his family had brought them. They were no longer forced to work, as under Drakonius, but found that working now made them prosperous despite the taxes levied on their goods.

Theft was uncommon; Readers could be anywhere in the crowds, making it simply too dangerous a trade to ply in Zendi. It was still being eradicated in Tiberium, she had heard.

Under Master Clement, the corruption had been cleaned out of the Readers’ system-bribes and threats no longer compelled certain Readers to Read in another direction while a crime was being committed.

But Tiberium was larger than Zendi, and even more crowded. And the people felt they had been conquered, unlike these on the winning side in the most recent conflict.

Julia passed jugglers and musicians entertaining the crowds, and turned out of the North Road into a side street near Northgate. Here were the shops of wine merchants, where wagons were being loaded with barrels for the village inns, and for the homes of a few prosperous farmers.

A few streets along, though, the buildings became residential. These were new blocks of flats for working families. Their landlords were carefully supervised lest they permit them to turn back into the kinds of slums that had burned in the battle for Zendi.

Every few streets there was an open area planted with grass and young trees. Eventually these would become carefully gardened parks, but building homes for Zendi’s growing population was a higher priority just now, so the little parks were left with their natural grass and wildflowers. In one of them, a group of young people were wiling away the time.

Dilys and Piccolo lay in the shade of some bushes, kissing and pawing at one another, oblivious to the rest of the group. Giorgio was eating bread and cheese-he was always eating, resulting in a physique that caused the others to call him Fat Giorgio. Antonius and Mosca were wrestling, their muscles standing out with the exertion, while Blanche and Diana cheered them on.

Atop a small mound that would one day become terraced flower beds sat Galerio, leader of this loosely associated group of minor Adepts.

Young, talented folk like these, ranging in age from twelve to twenty, were one of the problems Lenardo and Aradia had yet to solve. They had no education, and no formal training in using their talents. Many of them, like this group, refused the offer of training, and so except for occasional odd jobs, their talents were wasted.

“Ho, Julia!” called Galerio. “Come sit by me and help judge this contest. You can Read if anybody cheats.”

She climbed the mound, with no care for grass stains on her white dress. Except for special occasions, the white of a Reader in training was her usual wear.

Galerio was sixteen, and to Julia’s thinking, the handsomest boy she had ever seen. He had wavy dark hair, and deep brown eyes fringed with thick black lashes. His skin still had the rosy fairness of youth, while his body was sculpted by exercise.

Of course Galerio never told his cohorts that he exercised other than swimming at the baths, but Julia had Read his private exertions, supplemented with Adept direction. He had some healing potential, but would not admit it. He kept the public use of his powers to moving small objects.

Julia Read the wrestlers. They were evenly matched in size and weight. Antonius was fourteen, Mosca fifteen, both still clumsy with adolescence. They fought like street urchins, kicking and kneeing, trying to bang one another’s heads against the ground. Julia understood the rules: “wrestling” for these boys meant simply no punching, eye-gouging, pinching, or biting, and no surreptitious use of Adept power.

Suddenly Mosca went blank to her Reading, and Julia Read a sharp cramp in Antonius’ side. “Cheat!”

she cried. “Mosca, you gave Antonius that cramp!”

Mosca rose with a threatening growl, but Galerio said, “You know the rules, Mosca. Antonius wins.”

The younger boy got up, dusting himself off. “Thanks,

Julia,” he said shyly. Antonius was dark, like Julia and Galerio. Mosca had hair of the shade between dark blond and light brown, and light blue eyes that looked at Julia coldly.

Galerio said warningly, “You know Julia’s right, Mosca.” Then he grinned. “If you can learn to fool her, you’re gonna get past most Readers.”

“Yeah,” said Mosca, only partially placated, “I’ll have to learn that.”

“So,” said Galerio, “what’re you doing here, Julia? You usually have your stupid lessons in the afternoons.”

“They’re not stupid when I’m learning to catch people cheating,” she replied. “But Aradia’s in one of her pregnant moods today-I can’t do anything right.”

“No wonder. She’ll want her own brat to have the throne, and you’re in the way.”

“No,” said Julia, “there are plenty of lands for all of us. Tomorrow Aradia will think I’m wonderful. Father warned me that pregnant women act a little crazy at times. That’s all it is. ‘

“Yeah? Well, your father’s not here to stand up for you now, is he?”

Julia changed the subject. “Let’s go out Northgate and into the woods.”

“What’s in the woods? We’re not allowed to hunt the deer.”

“Well, we can…”

Julia was open to Reading, although not concentrating on it. As she spoke, something impinged on her consciousness. Outside Northgate, in the area she was thinking about, people along the road shuddered uneasily.

“What’s the matter?” Galerio asked.

“Somethings happening,” she replied. “I can’t tell what it is exactly, but people are frightened.”

Then it touched them: a cold wind out of the warm air. It swept through the little park, tearing at their clothes, pulling the girls’ hair out of its fastenings,

“Brrr!” said Fat Giorgio. “It’s gonna rain.”

But there were no clouds. The sky was hazy blue above them.

The wind continued, churning up the city’s dust, making their eyes smart.

“What is it?” cried Dilys.

“A whirlwind!” Galerio shouted. “Get down!”

He scrambled down off the mound, and the nine of them huddled at its base as icy wind pelted them with debris.

But there was little there to hurt them. They were merely getting dirty.

Out on the crowded market street, Julia Read the wind wreaking havoc.

Wagons overturned. Animals screamed in panic.

Signs fell.

Canopies whipped about, slapping people down.

Screaming children, unable to find their parents, were crushed beneath tumbling cartons or run over by wagon wheels.

Parents seeking their children saw them whipped out of reach by the howling gale.

A foodseller’s stall collapsed, dousing his customers with boiling oil. Agonizing pain burned into Julia’s own flesh-a Reader caught in the deluge of oil-but even as she screamed the pain cut off, and she was left gasping in reaction.

As quickly as it had come, the wind died-but the panic in the market continued.

Julia jumped to her feet, wiping away tears caused by dust and shared pain. “Come on!” she shouted.

“People need our help!”

Galerio cried, “Follow Julia!” and they dashed toward the madhouse in the North Road.

To get there, they had to wade through wine, spilled from the barrels outside the wine merchants’ shops.

But Julia Read that the damage there was only to merchandise, not people, and hurried on.

Cries of pain greeted them.

The market street was a shambles of food, wine, goods, and blood.

They almost fell over a man with a broken leg. Julia Read his pain, and directed, “Blanche, put him to sleep. Galerio, you and Antonius set the bone, and start him healing till a healer gets here.”

There were a few other Readers in the market street. Everywhere there was someone in a white dress or tunic, people turned for help. Others approached the Readers, saying, “I can heal,” or “I can move things,” and together they sought to save those in danger of dying, and ease the pain of those whose injuries were not so severe.

Hands clutched at Julia. “Reader, please! My little boy!” The woman pointed to a mound of broken crates. “It all fell on him! I couldn’t reach him!”

Mosca and Piccolo started at once to toss the crates aside, but Julia Read-

“I’m so sorry,” she said as gently as she could. “The child is dead. Dilys, please help this woman,” she added, for Dilys had the talent to affect people’s feelings. “The rest of you come with me. We must help the living.”

A little farther on they came to a group of people heaving a smashed wagon off a woman’s chest.

“Lady Julia!” cried a merchant who recognized her. “Is she alive?”

Yes, there was a fluttering heartbeat, but broken ribs had penetrated the woman’s right lung and severed arteries. She could not live much longer.

“I need a healer here!” Julia projected to all the Readers, showing them the extent of the woman’s injuries.

“I’m bringing one,” came a mental voice she recognized as Master Juna, her music teacher. But the woman was blocked by people and debris-it would take several minutes for her and the man following her to reach them.

In the meantime, the injured woman’s heartbeat grew weaker as her lung filled with her own blood.

“Can anyone heal this woman?” Julia shouted aloud. No one responded. “Mosca!” she suddenly remembered.

“Pull those ribs out to their normal position, and then pinch off the arteries. She’ll die if she bleeds any more!”

The boy stared at her. “How can I-?”

“Use your talent! If you can pinch a nerve to make a cramp, you can pinch off a blood vessel.”

He swallowed hard, then nodded. “Show me where.”

Julia directed, and Mosca concentrated-but he was a very minor Adept, and soon was shaking and sweating with the exertion. He couldn’t hold on. Where was that healer?

“We’re coming,” Master Juna assured her. “You’re doing fine.”

But Mosca wasn’t. He gave everything he had-and keeled over in a dead faint.

The woman’s bright blood spurted once more.

“Oh- why can’t I learn Adept skills?” Julia demanded of no one in particular.

Then Galerio was kneeling by her side. “Show me.”

At once he stopped the leakage he could see, then under her direction pinched off the other artery deep inside. Somehow, the woman’s heart still beat, although her chest heaved in her struggles for air.

Finally the crowd parted for Master Juna and the Adept healer. Galerio rocked back on his heels and let go on a wave of relief.

“Good work,” said Master Juna. “Son, you must come to the Academy and learn to work with Readers.

We always need healers.”

Unlike Mosca, who was sound asleep on the cobblestones, Galerio was not even breathing hard.

Julia said, “I’m so proud of you! Come on-let’s see if anyone else needs us.”

“Sure,” he replied, getting to his feet, “but don’t think I’m gonna spend my life obeying Readers just ‘cause I helped out in an emergency!”

Decius was just leaving Aradia when he suddenly stopped, his eyes taking on the look of a Reader concentrating on something at a distance. “My lady-” he began, but Aradia was already Reading with him, his stronger powers revealing the sudden destruction occurring in the market street.

Without another word, they both ran from the villa and strode rapidly toward the main north-south road.

By the time they reached it, other Readers were converging, a parade of men and women in white, the gowns and tunics of the Masters and Magisters edged in black. Among them were Adepts who could Read, Adepts who happened to be working with Readers when the storm occurred, and some Dark Moon Readers, pools of color in the white tide.

Aradia was slower on her feet these days, and Decius was hampered by his wooden leg, so they were in the back of the pack by the time they reached the area of destruction.

The storm was over, but the market was devastated. Every hand was needed to dig out the injured, and every Adept was quickly put to work, those on the scene quickly teaming with Readers to save as many lives as possible.

Aradia and Decius started into the melee, only to be accosted by Master Clement. “Lady Aradia!” the old man exclaimed. “We need you to direct things here. People will listen to your orders.”

That was true, although she knew his underlying motivation was to keep her from exhausting herself-

and thereby threatening her baby-with the use of Adept powers.

So she sent out the word: healers to the forum, all injured to be sent there as soon as life-preserving measures had been taken. There was now a hospital in Zendi, but it did not have room for so many. Only those requiring much further healing would eventually be taken there. Once it was organized, the healing talent in Zendi would easily suffice to help everyone who had been injured in the freak whirlwind.

Decius helped broadcast the directions to the Readers, most of whom had not been in Zendi during the battles when this plan had first been developed. Soon the evacuation of the ruined area was proceeding apace.

Aradia resisted employing her own powers, until a man pushed his way through the crowd to fall on his knees at her feet. “Lady,” he begged. “Oh, Lady-please. My friend-”

He spoke the savage language with a strong Aventine accent, and his appearance was Aventine: clean-shaven, hair cut short. But the former Aventine Empire was now part of the Savage Empire, so he and his friend were her people now.

Aradia asked, “Where is your friend?” intending to see how badly he was injured and get help.for him-

but when the small Aventine man led her to his friend she gasped in horror.

The man lay writhing on the cobblestones, his face twisted in agony. He was burned hideously, having been caught when a food vendor’s vat of boiling oil overturned.

One side of his neck and face were swollen, blistered, and puckered, and where his chest and shoulder were soaked with oil she knew even without Reading that he was just as badly burned beneath his clothing. How could he have been overlooked?

But as she tried to Read him, Aradia realized how: he was as blank to Reading as an Adept exercising his powers.

But he was no Adept; his burns were reddening and raising further blisters even as she watched. No healing was going on here.

A woman knelt beside him, pale with shock, trying to wipe the oil from his face with her kerchief. A child clung to her skirts.

The woman looked up as the crowd cleared a path for Aradia. “Oh, my lady! Please help him! He saved my baby!”

“That’s right!” the man’s friend exclaimed excitedly. “When the vat overturned, Pyrrhus grabbed the kid out of the way, threw him to me-but the oil hit him). Help him, Lady-please!”

Aradia laid her hand against the uninjured side of Pyrrhus’ face and willed his pain to stop.

At once the ghastly twisting of the man’s face abated, and Aradia smiled at his relief. But then his eyes opened, and he stared up at her in utter shocked astonishment.

The eyes were brown, shadowed under heavy brows. They studied her, and then he asked in a tense, hoarse voice, “Who are you?”

“I am Aradia, Lady Adept,” she replied. “Do not fear-you will be completely healed. I will put you to sleep now.”

“No!”

“It is necessary,” she said gently, understanding that these Aventines did not yet fully trust the people they had always called savages, especially Adepts. But Pyrrhus would when he woke to find his pain gone, his body unscarred.

He fought her, but his injury had taken his physical strength; his body was weak with shock. His strength of will was astonishing, though-she had to force him into unconsciousness as if he were an enemy Adept resisting her attempts to put him out of commission.

But Aradia had conserved her strength. She eased Pyrrhus into healing sleep, setting his own body to repairing the damage the boiling oil had done.

Then she turned to the woman, asking, “Are you hurt? Or your child?”

“No, my lady-thanks to these men.” The woman was not Aventine; she spoke the savage language with a peasant’s accent.

So their Adventine visitors had risked their lives to save the child of someone they still regarded as a potential enemy. A moment’s unconsidered reflex, but one of many small incidents that would eventually build a bridge between conquered and conquerors, and help them to forget their relationship had begun under those conditions.

“I will see that they are rewarded,” Aradia assured the woman.

The injured man’s friend was kneeling beside him, his hands clenched into fists, as if he wanted to help, but didn’t know how. “What is your name?” Aradia asked him.

“Wicket,” he replied. “Look!” he gasped excitedly. “The blisters are going down already!”

“Yes,” Aradia told him. “Pyrrhus will be perfectly well in a day or two. I will have him taken to the hospital as soon as I finish here.”

And Aradia vowed that no matter what Master Clement said, she would visit Pyrrhus there and aid his healing until he recovered.

Decius joined her again, ostenisibly Reading what she was doing in order to learn to heal, but she knew that he was carefully monitoring her condition, ready to stop her if she showed signs of exhaustion.

But the one healing effort was well within her limits. By the time she was satisfied, the last of the injured were in the forum, and reports of deaths and property damage were ready for her attention.

Five people had died, killed instantly in the storm, no one able to help them in the midst of the whirlwind.

All those alive after the storm had been saved, and she heard Julia and her band of reprobate friends being praised on every side. They had come in from the north end of the market-the part least accessible to the Readers and Adepts who had run to help-and were credited with saving at least a dozen lives.

Now what am I doing with that scamp? Aradia wondered. She walks out like a spoiled brat, and comes back a heroine.

Julia had Read that the reports were in, and was wending her way across the forum to take her place beside Aradia. Only when she saw the child’s condition, hair a rat’s nest, face smeared with grime, clothes torn, did she realize that Julia had actually been caught in the storm.

Aradia could not scold her before their retainers, so she said nothing to Julia as she received the reports.

The well-built new structures in that area of town had stood firm; if the wind had not struck the market, few people would have been harmed.

But as the last man turned to leave, Master Clement came up to them. “Don’t Read,” he told the two women. “The news will reach the other Readers soon enough, but you should know it first, Aradia.”

“What has happened?” Aradia asked, bracing Adept powers.

“I have just received news from Tiberium, from Adigia, from numerous villages throughout our lands.

There was not only this one freak whirlwind today. There were almost twenty, each one occurring where it would create the greatest damage and loss of life. It cannot be coincidence, my lady. Although no Reader anywhere in our lands Read anyone behind it, such a series of storms can only be the product of Adept attack.”