Empress Unborn

Chapter Seven

Gratefully, Julia Read the letter from Wulfston with Aradia, sharing her disappointment at how old the news was, and that it contained no information as to Lenardo’s whereabouts. If she could get her hands on it, though…

Before she could suggest it, pain stabbed Aradia. Julia gasped, but refused to break the rapport. Aradia stopped Reading as she attempted to invoke Adept healing, and Julia stopped feeling her pain.

She shifted her Reading to join Master Clement’s mind. He tried to reassure her even as he focused on Aradia. Still Reading, Julia left her room and ran to the study. Her stepmother gasped in pain despite all the Readers could do. The double focus on the scene in the study and her own movement was no longer strange to Julia; she neither lost contact nor stumbled.

She burst in just as Pyrrhus was saying, “Tell me what’s wrong with her! Damn you, Clement-you know I can’t use this new healing power unless you tell me where to focus!”

Julia caught Decius’ shock at the way Pyrrhus dared address the Master of Masters, and the young Reader’s own unsuccessful attempt to ease Aradia’s pain.

The four men had laid Aradia on one of the lounges, and were gathered around her, perplexed.

“Direct healing heat into this area,” Master Clement said to Pyrrhus. Then, “Aradia, the baby is unharmed, and the pain is not a contraction. You are not miscarrying! Do you hear me?’

Sweating, teeth clenched, Aradia managed to nod. She struggled to breathe.

“It’s a muscle spasm,” said Master Clement, “below your diaphragm. It’s pressing on a nerve, causing the pain. Can you Read with me?”

Julia felt Aradia try to open to Reading, but she could not sustain it. All her life’s training made her instinctively brace her Adept powers against pain. Feeling helpless, Julia knelt beside Aradia and took her hand.

“We’ll ease the spasm,” said Master Clement, Reading for Decius exactly where it was. To Pyrrhus he gave the name of the muscle that had contracted and refused to release. Julia watched and Read as the two concentrated. Healing warmth focused in the recalcitrant muscle until, finally, it relaxed, and Aradia began to breathe normally again.

Trembling, Aradia looked up at Master Clement. “Thank you. But what caused that? It’s not normal.”

“Aradia,” said Master Clement, “it was painful, but it did no lasting harm. Any Reader my age has consulted on enough pregnancies to know that each is unique. There is no such thing as a ‘normal’

pregnancy in every detail.”

“I couldn’t control the pain!” Aradia said fearfully.

“It’s all right,” Julia tried to reassure her. “You’ll get all your powers back after the baby is born.”

“My mother didn’t,” Aradia said grimly, and Julia felt a shock. It was the first time Aradia had ever mentioned her mother.

“Your mother did not have both Adepts and Readers to help her through her pregnancy, and her recovery afterward,” said Master Clement. “Worry won’t help you or your child. I will contact Lilith. You need her here now, and we may have need of her powers. “

“The border-” Aradia protested.

“Lilith’s people are completely loyal, and she reports that her son Ivorn is making rapid progress. She has an excellent system of Readers and Adepts to protect her lands in her absence. Aradia, none of the attacks against Lilith’s border have succeeded-you’ve heard the reports. It is just possible that they are intended to keep her from coming here.”

“Divide and conquer,” suggested Pyrrhus.

Aradia tried to sit up, but Julia put her hands on her shoulders. “Stay there and rest.”

“Not when I’m being attacked!”

“No one said you were being attacked,” said Julia. “Did you Read something?” She looked up to include Master Clement in the question.

“No, Aradia,” said Master Clement. “I did not mean to imply that your pain came from Adept attack.

However, your pregnancy is no secret. Neither is the absence of Lenardo and Wulfston. Torio and Melissa have been gone for some time. We are vulnerable; we must prepare for attack.”

“Better,” said Aradia grimly, “to be prepared and not be attacked, than to be attacked when unprepared.

I will-”

“You will sleep now,” said Master Clement.

“Sleep! There’s no time-”

“Aradia!” Master Clement said in warning tones. “You must rest. Put yourself into healing sleep, or Pyrrhus will do it for you.”

“Pyrrhus? He’s only-”

“My Adept powers are stronger than yours at this moment,” Pyrrhus interrupted her. “Do you wish to put it to the test?” he challenged. “This time I will win.”

Julia saw the struggle in Aradia’s eyes, but then she said, “Very well. But first-”

“First you rest,” said Master Clement. “Decius will stay with you until Master Selina and Vestor arrive.

From now on you will be attended by both a Reader and an Adept healer at all times, Aradia, until your daughter is safely born.”

“That’s not necessary,” Aradia said.

“Humor me,” replied the Master of Masters. “Remember, when Lenardo returns, I will have to answer to him for your safety and that of his child.”

He knew the one argument that would always persuade Aradia. Or me, Julia admitted to herself.

But she was greatly concerned about Aradia. Her nightmares still occurred, although since Master Clement was trying to help her it was not every night. But she still woke screaming, with the conviction that her child was stealing her powers and trying to kill her.

Aradia’s mother went mad and tried to murder her own child.

Julia forced the thought away. It was easy enough to do in daytime, with Master Clement nearby. But at night, as she Read Devasin soothing Aradia back to sleep after one of her dreams, Julia could not help wondering if Aradia would also go mad. What if Lenardo returned to find his wife powerless and crazed?

And the child she carried-if Aradia had inherited her mother’s madness, would her daughter also inherit it?

Born of Lenardo’s own blood, that child would displace his adopted daughter as heir to the empire they had all worked so hard to create. That Julia had fought and nearly died for.

Aradia lapsed into healing sleep. Decius sat down on the other lounge, to wait for his replacements. Julia went to the desk for Wulfston’s letter, and Master Clement started for the door.

“One moment, Master Reader,” said Pyrrhus. “Don’t forget to take him with you. ‘ He gestured at Wicket, who stared back at him in confusion.

“Why?” asked Master Clement.

“Take him to the Academy and assign him some tutors. Train him as fast as you can. 7 want him to Read for me.”

Master Clement looked from Pyrrhus’ determined face to Wicket’s, which evolved from bewilderment to pleased anticipation. “Oh, yes!” he said. “We’ve always made a good team, Pyrrhus an’ me. If he wants me to Read for him, I’ll learn-I promise! I’ll be the best pupil you’ve ever had!”

To her intense disappointment, Julia got nothing from Wulfston’s letter to tell her where Sukuru might have taken Lenardo. She did learn, as she held it and Read the impressions of her uncle’s feelings as he wrote it, that what he had described as an “Adept conflict” had been an all-out battle, in which he had come out the loser.

Wulfston must have relived the battle in his mind as he decided how to phrase the description for his sister, for Julia found the memory sharp and clear as she clutched the worn paper. In the midst of the battle Julia realized, as Wulfston must have, that his opponents could as easily have sunk his ship as disabled it. They didn’t want to kill him. But they didn’t want him to rescue Lenardo without going all the way to Africa.

Divide and conquer.

Surely the kidnapping of her father could not have anything to do with the attacks on the Savage Empire?

“Julia.”

“Yes, Master Clement?”

“Please come to the Academy. I have a task for you.”

Well, at last she was to be trusted with responsibility again. Ever since Galerio’s death she had been assigned lessons and occasional Reading jobs, but no continuing responsibilities. For a time it had been a good thing. She had suffered from debilitating fatigue; many afternoons, trying to read the scrolls Master Clement had given her, she had found her thoughts turning instead to Galerio, and wept until she fell asleep, waking with difficulty hours later.

But now the bouts of exhaustion came less often. She wasn’t sure how much responsibility she could deal with, but she was ready to try.

It was late winter. Julia met the Healer/Adept team in the corridor, red-cheeked from the brisk winds. By the time she had wrapped herself in a woolen cloak, Decius joined her. “That wasn’t a very long strategy session,” she commented.

“It is difficult to plan strategy against unknown factors.”

“Pyrrhus and Wicket seem to do so quite successfully,” she commented.

Decius gave a snort of laughter. “Some strategy! They’ve got the lowlife in this city scared to death of them. You know, I’ve been watching Adepts work for years, but when those two go into action it’s like-like an explosion. As if they don’t care who gets hurt, any more than an earthquake or a whirlwind."

“They never hurt anyone trying to get out of their way,” said Julia. “And those trying to get in it deserve what they get.” She thought vengefully of Capero, and felt Decius pick it up before she realized she should have shielded the thought. He was getting too good!

“Julia, Capero was used. He was a shrewd gambler who would take fools for everything he could get, but he was not a cold-blooded killer.”

“Galerio is just as dead,” she replied. Then, to change the subject, “Hasn’t anyone told you that using Adept power is supposed to dull your Reading?”

“I haven’t done much today,’ he replied. “And… maybe it’s my age, when my powers are growing rapidly anyway, but it seems that after a day when I have used my Adept powers a great deal, after a good meal and a night’s sleep my Reading is even sharper in the morning.”

Julia walked quickly against the cold, and noticed that Decius kept up easily despite his wooden leg.

Now that he could keep the stump healed, he had no more pain and was not afraid to put pressure on it.

If Decius can learn to use Adept powers, why can’t 1? Julia wondered for the thousandth time. But no one seemed to have the answer to why some people found it easy to access both elements of power, while others, no matter how proficient in one, found it impossible to develop the other.

Sometimes, of course, that was fortunate. Suppose their old enemy, Drakonius, had learned to Read for himself instead of merely forcing Readers to work for him. Or Portia. The thought of Portia with Adept powers added further chill to the cold day, and Julia was happy to see the doors of the Academy looming ahead, promising warmth and a fresh task to take her mind off morbid thoughts.

To Julia’s surprise, the assignment Master Clement had for her was training Wicket. “But… I’m not a teacher,” she protested.

“The more you teach, the more you learn,” said Master Clement. “Pyrrhus is right-Wicket’s Reading will add greatly to their efficiency as peace officers. They are a natural team and already well practiced.

Pyrrhus would be the ideal person to train Wicket, of course, but deprived of his own Reading powers he cannot. My tutors are all Academy-trained. Wicket needs a teacher with flexibility, and experience out on the streets where he works.”

For the first time in weeks, Julia felt her mood lighten. “You’ll let me teach him guttersnipe Reading?”

“Guttersnipe Reading?” To Julia’s delight, she provoked a laugh from her teacher. “I can see I have found the right tutor. Yes, Wicket’s not going to test for the upper ranks, Julia. He needs practical experience.

So long as you drill the Readers’ Code into him, teach him what you think will help him most. You have experience at guiding Adepts, much more than my best teachers. That is what Wicket needs most of all.

“Now,” he continued, “go find your pupil, while I contact Lilith. I wish she could Read, but the best I can hope for is that whoever is Reading for her today has strong persuasive powers. Aradia needs Lilith here, Julia-and not merely as her friend, or as a Lady Adept to strengthen our circle. She needs the example before her eyes of a woman who has borne a child and regained her powers completely.”

Julia felt warm pleasure at the way her teacher was treating her as a full member of their circle again. “Did Aradia tell you about her mother?” she asked.

“That is privileged, Julia. There are times when I must act as healer with Aradia now, not merely friend.

Have I not assigned you a task? Why are you dawdling here when we both have work to do?”

So Julia went to find Wicket, who was in an empty classroom, staring at the rules of the Readers’ Code on the wall. He was closed to Reading; Julia had to find him by visualizing, for, with casual trust in her abilities, Master Clement had not said where he had left Wicket.

There was something wrong. Wicket looked nervous and upset, glancing around furtively.

“Just open to Reading,” said Julia as she entered the room. “Then nobody can sneak up on you.”

He gave her a forced grin. “Hello again. What’re you doing here?”

“Master Clement assigned me to tutor you. Have you memorized the Readers’ Code?”

“That?” He gestured toward the wall.

“Yes, that. All Reading is taught within the Readers’ Code, so before you begin you have to learn it.” He paled and dropped his eyes from hers. “What’s wrong?” Julia asked. “Does something in it conflict with your personal beliefs?”

Wicket stared at his hands, shielded strongly. Finally he mumbled, “I… dunno.” Having gotten that out, he sajd more clearly, “Dunno what it says. I… can’t read.”

“Well, if you’d stop bracing to use-” Julia began, and then suddenly realized what he meant. “You mean you can’t read words? Or write?”

He nodded glumly. “Never could learn more’n’t’ write me name. Pyrrhus tried to teach me-but everything gets all jumbled up. It… it lost us our chance in Tiberium, an’ now if it ruins us here, too-”

“What happened in Tiberum?” Julia asked.

“We done-did-really good at our bodyguard service, an’ then the city councilors decided to hire us.

We did several jobs for ‘em, always as equal partners.

“Only… there were contracts to sign. One time we had to accept one and get right to work if the terms were all right. When Pyrrhus had to read it to me, the councilors-well, they wanted’t’ change the terms.

I knew them high-an’-mighties never liked me from the first, ‘cause I come outa the gutter. But I can talk good enough if I have to, and Pyrrhus insisted we worked together or not at all.

“But when they found out I’m… illiterate, they told Pyrrhus he could have that job or any future ones alone, and he could hire me if he wanted to-but they wouldn’t make any more contracts with me.”

“And what did Pyrrhus say to that?” Julia asked.

Wicket gave a quavering smile. “I didn’t know he even knew some of the words he used. If he hadn’t got so angry, we mighta worked it out. I wouldn’t of minded working for him-it’s Pyrrhus insisted we were partners.”

“Wasn’t he drawing on your experience?” Julia asked.

“Yeah, I guess. Street experience. But I shoulda known better than’t’ think, even with Pyrrhus’ help, I could have what amounts to a government post-when I can’t even learn to read. I’m just stupid, that’s all.”

“Wicket, I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not stupid,” said Julia. “Open to Reading and look at the Code.”

“Eh?”

“Just do it. “

He shrugged, and complied. Julia closed her eyes and Read through Wicket’s. As he had said, it was a jumble of letters, not the words she knew. Even as he stared at them, they shifted into new combinations.

“No wonder you couldn’t learn,” said Julia. “Now close your eyes.”

She opened her eyes, and let Wicket Read what she saw and read. He gasped. “It makes sense! I got as far as learning the sounds of the letters-this way they make words!”

He opened his eyes and turned to stare at her. “How did you do that?”

“You can always Read through a stronger Reader,” she replied. “I don’t know much about your problem with words, but I’ll bet Master Clement does. I do know that some people have trouble learning to read.

If you’re a farmer or a cobbler, who cares? But if you’re a city official-”

Wicket sighed. “I shoulda told Lady Aradia. Pyrrhus has been covering up for me, reading all the directives we get. But you’re right: how could I read an urgent written message if he wasn’t available?”

“As long as someone else was,” said Julia, “you’d be all right. Perhaps you can learn to visualize.”

“To what?”

“Let’s find out if you’re doing it already. Read the next room for me, Wicket.”

Julia Read only through him, and perceived the usual sense that there were several people there, without identifying them. “Withdraw,” she instructed. “Do not invade their privacy.”

“Uh… you didn’t say that out loud,” Wicket observed.

“No-you try it.”

“Why can’t we Read the next room?”

“Because we haven’t asked those people’s permission to practice on them. I will in a moment. But people are easy. You’ve been Reading objects like locking mechanisms and dice without knowing it-and that’s really hard. Try the room behind that wall.”

It was Master Clement’s outer office. His assistant was not there at the moment, so the room was empty of people. At first all Wicket Read was shapes of furniture. “Try to see what color the walls are,” Julia suggested.

Hazily, the room “appeared” in her mind. The furnishings were only vague shapes, but the soft blue of the walls was definite. She smiled. “You can visualize already. That’s a high-level skill, Wicket. If you can hone it, then you won’t need anyone to read your messages for you. They won’t get all jumbled up if you Read them.”

He grinned. “This is fun. What next?”

She put him through every test she could think of, stopping him each time he would have stepped beyond the confines of the Code. They got permission to practice Reading the class in the next room, and when their lesson was over two of the children were happy to play Reading games with them, each designed to teach or strengthen a Reading skill.

Julia spent several hours with him each day, and Wicket made rapid progress. He was unusually good at details and close work, but had a very limited range. That did not disturb him-until Pyrrhus complained.

When Pyrrhus demanded a different teacher for

Wicket, Master Clement called Julia and Wicket to meet with them.

“Julia has done an excellent job,” Master Clement insisted. “Pyrrhus, surely you recall enough from training Readers yourself to recognize how well Wicket is doing.”

“Yes-at what she’s teaching him. Wicket can tell me every item in my pocket, but he can hardly Read into the next street! We need range for our work, Clement. Get Wicket a tutor who can Read beyond the city walls.”

“I can Read beyond the city walls!” Julia protested.

“Then why can’t Wicket?” Pyrrhus demanded.

“I told you,” Wicket protested. “I’m never gonna be a Master Reader! Why can’t you accept that?”

“I’m afraid you do have to accept it, Pyrrhus,” said Master Clement. “Had Wicket’s Reading manifested in childhood, he might have accomplished a bit more than he can now, but not much more. He’s very good at fine discernment, but he does not have the power for great range. I would not even consider trying to teach him to leave his body. It would be too dangerous. Wicket is a Dark Moon Reader, Pyrrhus-not because I say so, but because that is the limit of his talent.”

Pyrrhus rose from his chair, fists clenched, and paced away from the other three. “I’d hoped…”

Master Clement said, very gently, “You hoped your friend would have all the powers you have lost. I’m sorry. We’ve taught him all we can. Remember that he has both Reading and Adept talents. Your job now is to work out how best to combine the powers you have between the two of you.”

“Combine!” exclaimed Julia. “That’s it, Pyrrhus!”

He turned, and stared at her blankly. “What’s it?”

“You want Wicket to Read beyond the city walls. He can’t with his own powers-but he can with yours!”

Pyrrhus frowned at her, his dark eyes wary.

Master Clement said, “Julia, I had not thought of that. Sit down, Pyrrhus. At least try the experiment.”

“What experiment?” Pyrrhus asked suspiciously, but he sat.

“That is the disadvantage of growing up in the Academy,” said Master Clement. “We teach the same techniques to one generation after another, and do not think beyond them. Wicket knows what experiment. He and Julia are not bound by what has always been done.”

Pyrrhus turned a challenging look on Wicket, who said, “A weak Reader can Read through a stronger Reader. You can Read beyond the city walls, Pyrrhus.”

“What good does that do me if I don’t know what I’ve… oh.” The incipient anger drained from his face.

“Yes!” he said in an intense whisper. “Let’s try it!”

Pyrrhus opened to Reading. He was helpless to focus his powers precisely, but he directed them toward the lands south of the city. Julia was reminded of Reading with her father, for Pyrrhus’ range was that of a Master Reader, taking them far beyond the grounds of the summer fair and horse market, to farms and woodlands gray under a lowering sky. Winter was lingering beyond its time this year as if to underscore their other frustrations.

“It’s cold,” said Wicket. “There’s some woodcutters out, but nobody else. There’s a village, people gathered around their fires, pots of soup cooking-I can smell it! And bread baking. They’re tired of the cold weather, but happy to have warm homes and enough to eat.

“Then, maybe two miles farther south, there’s a big farm with a huge new house. Man and his wife in the main room, talkin’ about-”

“Privacy, Wicket!” Pyrrhus warned automatically, and for the first time Julia truly believed that he had once taught in an Academy.

Wicket laughed. “You sound just like Julia. All right, there’s some deer in the woods-cold an’ awful hungry. Frightened.”

“I’ll have Aradia tell the foresters,” said Julia. “The farmers should put out hay for them, or our hunters won’t find enough game next year.”

“And I’ll have the Dark Moon Readers check the game in that section more carefully,” said Master Clement. “There may be other hungry animals.”

“It’s starting to snow!” Wicket said suddenly. “Oh- it’s beautiful! Big flakes, stickin’ on the trees. Are we far enough north to get real snow? I’ve never seen it except in the mountains. I mean more than a few flakes, that is.”

“No, we don’t get much here, either,” Julia said, adding wistfully, “I’d like to have enough to play in, just once.”

“Where is the snow?” asked Pyrrhus.

“Huh?” responded Wicket.

“How many miles? What direction?” But Pyrrhus’ snarl of impatience didn’t have its usual bite.

“Urn…”

Master Clement pulled a map from the scroll rack and unrolled it. How often they had done this during Adept battles, Readers showing Adepts where to center their powers.

“Here!” said Wicket, drawing a circle with his finger in an area several miles south of the city, near the main road to Tiberium:

“Julia, you’d like some snow to play in?” Pyrrhus asked her.

“Yes!” she said with a delighted grin that he echoed back at her.

Suddenly their panorama of the lands south of the city was cut off as Pyrrhus braced Adept powers.

Wicket blinked, startled until he realized what had happened.

“Read with me,” Master Clement invited, and again they saw the woods and farmlands-and felt the wind shift, blowing the storm northward.

“Wicket, keep Pyrrhus informed-” Master Clement began.

But Pyrrhus raised a hand, saying, “No, just tell me if I lose it.”

He did lose it once, but after that he began to open to Reading every few minutes, letting Wicket rather than Master Clement be the one to keep him on target.

Well before the snow reached Zendi, the Watchers reported its unnatural movement. “It’s all right,”

Mas-ter Clement assured them. “Spread the word- we are controlling this storm. It’s an experiment, not an attack.”

The light from the windows dimmed as black snow clouds concentrated over the city. The first flakes began to fall, then a steady stream of pure white beauty, for the wind died now, leaving the clouds to empty their burden on Zendi.

“Let’s go outside!” Julia said.

Wicket jumped up, eager as a child himself, and Pyrrhus smiled indulgently at him and got up as well.

Taking her cloak off the peg by the door, Julia noticed how Pyrrhus moved, stretching his body, testing his balance. He looked much healthier and stronger than the man Aradia had healed of burns last autumn.

Before, he had been all bone and tendon. Now he carried a layer of muscle, laid on by the Adept regimen he was following. Adepts never put on fat; Pyrrhus had simply filled out to his natural physique.

“I’m not tired,” he said to Master Clement, half surprise, half satisfaction in his words. “I’m learning not to expend more energy than necessary.”

“7 coulda taught you that,” Wicket said in mock scorn, and Julia realized that she had never seen the minor Adept exhaust himself, nor noticed his Reading impaired by the use of Adept strength.

” You,” Pyrrhus told him, “practice laziness, not efficiency.”

By this time they were all wrapped up in woolen cloaks, ready to venture into the snow.

The Academy faced on one of the little parks dotting Zendi. It was rapidly filling with fluffy whiteness.

Julia could not resist running out into it, glad she was wearing woolen stockings under her boots as she felt the cold attempt to penetrate.

The snow was ankle-deep already and falling fast. Wicket scooped up a handful, tossed it into the air, caught it, then in one motion turned and flung it at Pyrrhus, hitting him dead center in the chest. “That’s for calling me lazy!”

For one moment Pyrrhus stood, startled. Then a wicked grin flashed to his face, and he gathered his own handful of packed snow to hurl at his friend-only to have it bounce off an invisible shield a handspan from Wicket’s cloak.

“Oh, is that the game we’re playing?” Pyrrhus asked dangerously. Although his eyes never left Wicket, suddenly the branches of the tree over the minor Adept’s head shook rapidly, and Wicket was doused with snow.

“Wasting your powers, Pyrrhus,” Wicket taunted. Scooping up a double handful of snow, he ran toward his friend as if he were about to tackle him. As Pyrrhus ducked the charge, though, his feet slid out from under him.

Wicket tripped on nothing, and twisted in midair to avoid landing atop Pyrrhus. “Slippery, innit?” he asked conversationally as he sat up, shaking the snow from his cloak onto his friend.

Master Clement stood in the Academy doorway, watching in amusement. “Julia, wasn’t there something about bringing this snow here for you to play in?”

She giggled-a mistake. Pyrrhus and Wicket turned to her, climbing to their feet. “That’s right,” said Wicket. “You were the one wanted snow.”

“So,” added Pyrrhus, “come and play!’

“Unfair!” she gasped through her laughter as they stalked her. “I’m not an Adept!”

“Don’t need to be,” said Wicket, grabbing her hand and pulling her with him up through the terraced garden, now empty and dead after the long winter. At the top, he turned to the smooth side of the little hill, spread his cloak on the ground, sat on it-and slid down the bank.

That looked like fun-and it was, Julia quickly discovered. So did the Readers from the Academy, released from their work by Master Clement’s command, for in Zendi’s normally temperate climate it might be many years before they would again see a snowfall so perfect for their games.

The park filled with laughing children and adolescents, and Wicket was not the only nominal adult to indulge the sensation of flying down the hill. The young Magisters had their turns, to the children’s squeals of delight.

Only when they were all thoroughly wet from the snow soaking through their woolen garments did the party break up-although the snow still fell. Preparing to leave, Pyrrhus asked Master Clement,

“Shouldn’t we send this storm away now? The Lady Lilith is on the road. I am sure she did not anticipate snow this late in the season.”

“The weather watchers will take care of it,” the old Reader replied. “People are enjoying it too much to stop it. At this time of year, even without control it would be gone by tomorrow night. Lilith won’t be here for two more days.”

Dressed in borrowed dry clothes, Julia walked home, Reading pleasant tiredness on every side. The snow had been an excuse for everyone to drop work and go outside. She passed snow sculptures, and splattered designs on walls that showed that Pyrrhus and Wicket’s had not been the only mock battle of the day. A holiday spirit hung over the city as the scent of hot spiced cider permeated the air.

Julia ate her supper eagerly that night, telling Aradia what they had done. Her stepmother smiled indulgently, but seemed distracted. Perhaps it was that she was in no condition to go out and have fun in the snow; all it had meant to Aradia was being stuck indoors.

After supper, Julia went to her room. Her schedule for today had called for her to read more of Portia’s records before supper. After the freedom of the afternoon, she didn’t really feel like working. She especially didn’t want to touch the scrolls and Read Portia’s frustrations. She had forgotten her own for a few hours; why relive someone else’s?

So she took a leisurely bath, and read a book from Aradia’s library, a retelling of the legend of the Ghost King. But as she sat on the lounge in her room, cold air seeped in through the window, even though it was shuttered outside and curtained inside. The candles seemed dim, too. Julia shivered, wondering if she had caught cold from the afternoon’s activities.

No, she wasn’t feverish, her glands were not swollen, her throat didn’t hurt. She could Read that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her health. So why did she feel half frightened? What of? Maybe she was just tired.

But she wasn’t sleepy. She didn’t like this book, she decided, stretching. Her eyes fell on the pile of scrolls. Maybe she should read and Read one tonight. It had become a habit, after all.

She picked up the next one in sequence-and found Portia discovering a way to influence political decisions. A senator who had risen from poverty had allowed himself to be bribed for a surprisingly small sum by merchants wanting him to vote their way on an issue on which he had no personal opinion. The Academy treasury was not large, but Portia could afford that much. The next time an issue of importance to Readers came up, Portia approached him, delicately.

It worked! His vote swung two others, and the issue came out in favor of the Readers.

There were other senators amenable to bribes… but they were far too expensive for even the Master of Masters to afford. Unless, that is, the Academy could find a way to enrich its coffers.

Portia remembered a merchant who had dropped hints to her that knowing the plans of one of his competitors could be worth a considerable sum. At the time, she had scathingly ejected him from her office. But if she was to be better prepared the next time she needed money…

She struck a deal with the merchant, and made sure she Read some of his most private and personal secrets. Only as insurance, she insisted to herself, should he ever threaten to expose her. Never would she breach the Readers’ Code to reveal such secrets.

She put out of her mind the fact that she had broken it to obtain them in the first place.

Her brother died, and her nephew became Emperor.

In Portia’s opinion, the boy was as close to an idiot as the royal family had ever produced. He drank, he gambled, he ignored his pretty but fatuous wife and chased after any other attractive woman who crossed his path.

Portia began to study how to throw attractive women in his way. Not prostitutes. Mostly discreet young wives of men who would be powerful, men who knew how to pretend they didn’t know should they find out just how their wives were helping their careers along. It was surprisingly easy to play on the greed and vanity of young women raised solely to be entertaining and decorative, to make them think their actions were clever, even loyal to their husbands. And of course the Emperor’s attentions were flattering.

But the Emperor must not become a laughingstock. Liaisons with women who would keep them secret kept his attention from women who might be less discreet. Portia was actually preserving the dignity of the royal family.

Julia Read that Portia knew in her heart that she wanted the Emperor to retain the respect of the Senate and the populace so that his decrees would not be questioned. Those decrees were often to the great advantage of Readers… or at least of the Master of Masters among Readers.

At last Portia found an entree into military planning sessions, bribing and pressuring the Emperor’s strategists into urging the Emperor to try battle plans she devised, putting Readers to more efficient use than ever before.

The Aventine army began to win! They drove the savages back steadily for the first time in generations, reclaiming lands thought lost forever.

The Emperor became a hero to the people. Portia was a heroine to the strategists, who no longer had to be bribed and pressured to seek her advice. Triumphantly, she recognized that the Readers’ Code might be meant for other Readers, but not for the Master of Masters. Her powers, her wisdom, had set her above the others-and she had acted well. The Aventine Empire was better off for her manipulations.

For once, she lost her resentment of having been born female, unable to rule, and then being torn from her family when her Reading manifested, and forced into a life of sworn poverty and public service. Using the Reading power that had ruined her life, she triumphed over adversity.

If she could not be Empress in her own right, she could rule Tiberium through the Emperor-and the fool would never know that he was merely her tool!

She took to having her Reader’s garments made of silk rather than linen, and began to use the accumulated wealth of her Academy to provide luxuries, not only for herself, but for the girls and women in her care. She deserved the finest foods, the softest bed, the richest clothing, the most precious gems. If the world truly understood what she had done for her country, it would agree.

Years passed, and Portia extended her power. There was too much to do alone. She found a few select Master Readers who understood how she helped both the Readers’ system and the Aventine Empire.

Occasionally someone discovered what they were doing, but such Readers could either be drawn into the circle or exiled in one way or another. Young upstarts often found themselves on the Path of the Dark Moon, but a circle of Master Readers made certain they would be quite happy there.

The scroll ended. Julia put it aside and lay back, wondering what had gone wrong. Portia was so successful, so strong, so intelligent. She worked with human nature, just as Adepts did. As far as Julia could see, Portia was far better qualified than her foolish nephew to rule the Aventine Empire.

Just as Julia was far better qualified than the child Aradia carried to be Lenardo’s heir.

Practically on cue, Aradia’s screams erupted through the cold silence of the night. Julia Read her sobbing in Devasin’s arms again, and felt contempt. If you could see Aradia now, Father, you would see that she is no fit wife for you- and any child of hers not fit to be your heir!

Aradia woke feeling cold, even though blankets were piled over her and the fire was burning. She sat up, conscious of her awkward body, and felt cold air move in behind her to chill her spine.

Her breath clouded in the air of her bedroom.

Wrapping the blankets around her, she thrust her feet into felt slippers and went over to the fire. It heated only a tiny area, and she felt the chill air on her back even as she sat down facing the fire and held out her hands to it.

How could it be so cold? Especially inside? The calendar said it was nearly spring!

Ordinarily, this time of year brought sunny days interspersed with cold rain, occasionally sleet or a few flakes of snow. She had never known such bone-penetrating cold to come so late.

Devasin came in with an armload of warm clothing, saying, “I’ve never felt it so cold! You’d think it was the middle of winter instead of nearly spring.”

“I’m sure the weather watchers are working on it,” said Aradia.

“I certainly hope so!” Devasin replied with a shiver. “All the fountains are frozen, and so are the water pipes. Every fire talent in town is out thawing them.”

Devasin helped Aradia dress in wool over silk, woolen stockings, two undertunics, a robe over her usual outer woolen dress. Still she was chilly as she went to breakfast despite Devasins offer to bring it to her room. “Walking is good for me,” she insisted. “Besides, I must get ready for Lilith. “

Tomorrow. Tomorrow her friend would be here, a powerful Lady Adept, able to ward off-

Ward off what?

If only their enemy would show himself!

Herself?

At the thought, Aradia tried to Read the child in her womb. But with no more powerful Reader to help her, all she could tell was that her daughter seemed healthy, and was sleeping. No wonder, after tormenting me all night.

No-that was a dream. It all came from feeling so weak, with her powers diminished. When Lilith arrived she would feel safer, and perhaps the dreams would stop altogether.

At breakfast she carefully hid such thoughts from Master Selina, allowing the Reader to check her physical condition. “It wont be much longer,” the woman said, delivering the platitude in a gentle voice that gave it genuine reassurance. But there was still a month to wait for Lenardo’s daughter to enter the world. With each passing day, Aradia’s hope weakened that he would be home to greet her.

After breakfast Master Clement contacted Aradia from the Academy, not subjecting himself to a walk outdoors in the bitter cold which held the city paralyzed.

“Our weather controllers are trying to dissipate the cold. It came in last night, out of nowhere.

Yesterday’s snow is frozen, making the streets nearly impassible. But the strange thing is, the snowstorm we so casually evoked left here at dusk and traveled up the North Road, to empty into the passes in the hills north of here. Our weather controllers could not stop it. Unless she is willing to expend a good deal of Adept strength, Lilith will not be able to get through until the cold lets up and the snow melts.”

Aradia tried to hide her pang of disappointment, excessive response to the news that Lilith would arrive a day or two later than expected.

But Master Clement said, “I will be glad to have her here, too, Aradia. We need a fully functioning Lord Adept. Pyrrhus will be that soon, but right now he is still learning to control his powers, and he lacks experience.”

Pyrrhus didn’t lack energy, however. Before Master Clement had finished reporting what had happened in the night, the ex-Reader was charging up to the villa, melting a path for himself through the frozen snow, Wicket trailing in his wake.

Although well wrapped up against the cold, both men were also using Adept powers to keep themselves warm, a technique Aradia could no longer sustain. As both were braced to use Adept powers, they could only be Read visually-and the impression Aradia got was that Pyrrhus’ angry eyes were melting the snow as he looked at it.

“I had hoped after yesterday,” Master Clement commented sadly, “that Pyrrhus was losing his furious response to every small setback.”

They soon learned, however, that Pyrrhus was not overreacting. The moment he and Wicket were ushered into Aradia’s study, he asked, “Is Master Clement in contact with you?”

“Yes,” Wicket responded before Aradia could reply.

Pyrrhus glanced at his friend, almost apologetically. But his mind was on a new problem. “Good. I’ve been working with the weather controllers since dawn-and we cannot break this cold wave with all our combined strength!”

“Then we will have to gather more Adepts,” said Aradia. “Form a stronger circle.”

Pyrrhus nodded. “Yes% The weather talents can direct the strength of other Adepts, correct?”

“That’s right,” agreed Aradia.

“Our problem, then, is to define what must be done. Clement, have you Read how far this cold extends?

All Wicket can tell is that it goes beyond the city to the north as far as I can Read.”

Wicket said, “He says then it has to be intended to delay Lilith, as they suspected.”

Pyrrhus’ fists clenched and his jaw set. “They used me!” he exclaimed furiously. “Whoever did this used me to bring that snow in. Why waste their energy if they could find someone foolish enough to do it for them? Just for children’s games and trying out my powers!”

“You couldn’t know,” Wicket echoed Master Clement, putting his hand on Pyrrhus’ shoulder.

Pyrrhus shook him off and began pacing. “I should have known! If I could Read-”

“I didn’t Read anything,” said Wicket. “Julia didn’t.

Even Master Clement didn’t. Come on, Pyrrhus-you never Read better’n the Master of Masters!”

For a moment Aradia expected an explosion, but Wicket was the one person Pyrrhus took such raw truths from. He stopped in his tracks, and acknowledged the statement with a snort of self-derisive laughter.

Aradia said, “Then perhaps Master Clement can Read the extent of the cold for us.”

“I will leave my body,” the Master Reader said. “Surely no weather front can extend beyond my range in that state.”

Aradia was glad of her small Reading ability, for it allowed her to Read with Master Clement after he had left his body, and his mind touched hers and Wicket’s again. She was seated at her desk, aware of the murmur of Wicket’s voice as he tried to describe his first experience of what it was like to leave the confines of the body, to float, pure mind, untouched by heat or cold, hunger or thirst, pain or pleasure.

Even vicariously, the only way Aradia or Wicket would ever know the experience, it was beautiful beyond belief. She felt Wicket force his thoughts away from the fact that Pyrrhus had once known this state, and never could again.

Master Clement focused on the North Road, keeping his disciplined mind on the extent of the devastating cold. Although he could not feel the lack of warmth, he could Read it, and the farther north they traveled, the colder it became.

There was no physical effect from the cold on pure mind. The landscape, coated with snow and frost, was a sparkling fantasy in white, blue, gray, and the occasional black of tree trunks. Where the sun shone through the scattered clouds, had they been there in person they would have been blinded by the brightness of its reflection on the snow.

But beneath that snow, a herd of cattle lay frozen.

Birds, fluffed into little powder puffs in their attempt to survive, stood erect although quite dead, frozen to the branches they had taken shelter in.

And still the cold grew more intense.

Travelers caught by the unexpected storm had built a lean-to and a fire. The fire was out, their dog a lump of icy brown fur frozen in position to guard them, their horse slumped lifeless against the side of their wagon. Man, woman, and child lay stiff in one another’s arms.

My people, Aradia mourned.

Inexorably, the cold grew worse as Master Clement’s mind followed the road northward. They were coming close now to the border between Lilith’s lands and those Aradia and Lenardo ruled. Aradia’s heart began to pound as she “saw” blue shapes against the snow. Lilith’s pavilions.

There was no smoke from campfires. Everything was still as death.

But a fully functioning Lady Adept surely could not freeze to death!

At Aradia’s panicked thought, Master Clement focused quickly on locating Lilith. She was inside one of the pavilions-alive! She lay on a pallet, fully clothed, a blue woolen cloak covering her. She appeared to be asleep, perhaps healing sleep, which would automatically keep her body warm and living. Except… it was not healing sleep they Read. It was something Aradia had never Read before-and neither had Master Clement!

Unconscious, her face utterly serene, her dark hair framing her pale features as smoothly as ever, Lilith was a powerful source of Adept energy.

And the terrible, life-draining, soul-freezing cold was emanating from here-

— created by the Adept energies of the Lady Lilith.