Sorcerers of the Frozen Isles

Chapter One

Spring sunshine warmed the air. Birds sang, butterflies danced among the flowers, and Torio, Lord Reader of the newly expanded Savage Empire, brooded as he rode beside Lord Wulfston. They were on their way to Zendi, temporary capital of their strange alliance and home to Lenardo and Aradia, unofficial leaders of that alliance.

But no place here is my home, Torio thought.

He had grown up in the Academy at Adigia, a powerful young Reader expecting to spend his life using his powers to benefit citizens of the Aventine Empire. Now there was no more Aventine Empire.

And it’s my fault.

No, it wasn’t his doing alone, but he had been a major factor in the force which had quite literally tumbled an empire, creating an earthquake that caused the earth to open and swallow up its capital city. Now they had a huge area to try to govern-a country full of hostile people whose lives had just been devastated.

They had left the worst of it to Lenardo and Aradia after the fall of Tiberium, and Wulfston had returned to his own lands, acquired only the year before. Even though the new Lord of the Land had made life much better for his people in his short reign, there was still a danger that their trust in him could not survive a long absence.

So Wulfston had gone home to secure his seaside kingdom-and Lenardo had urged Torio to continue to work with the Adept. “Wulfston knows how to teach people to obey him,” his teacher had said, “and still to love him. That is an ability you must have before you can rule your own land.”

Ruling a land-it was not what Readers were born to in the Aventine Empire. But Lenardo insisted that Torio’s insecurity stemmed from youth. He had been only eighteen when his teacher told him that, and a Magister Reader-or at least Lenardo and Master Clement insisted he was.

Torio had never taken the formal tests of his powers, but if there was one thing he was secure about, it was that he would have passed the most stringent tests the Council of Masters might have devised. His Reading was the one stable element in his life-it had to be, for he had been born blind. Without his Reading ability, he would have spent his life as a helpless liability to the family he had been born into. As it was, he perceived the world far better than any sighted nonReader.

But what was he supposed to do with those powers now? All the rules had changed. Grown up in the communal life of the Academy, barred by law from owning property or holding public office, now Torio had treasures beyond imagination, and lands held in his name that he would rule one day. Expecting to be sworn to celibacy once he entered the top ranks of Readers, now h? was told he could marry if he so desired, without risking the loss of his powers.

He often thought about that possibility… about Melissa. When his thoughts turned to her, they lightened-one good thing about this journey to Zendi was that he would get to see Melissa again! In the past year he had seen her only three times in person, although as Readers they had frequent mental contact.

In the midst of his pleasant reverie, the sunny day suddenly plunged into blackness. Torio heard a rumbling, felt the jostling of a crowd. He was being pulled along, trying to escape-

The noise grew louder, nearer, more terrifying, bearing down as people shouted incoherent warnings-Screams!

The tug at him was suddenly gone-he was alone in a crowd, lost, panicked, as something rumbled and rolled over human flesh, crushing bones, the smell of blood and fear sweat rising- “Torio!

Torio-what’s the matter with you?” At Wulfston’s voice, Torio suddenly realized that he was Reading something actually happening not far away. He focused his powers, and found-

“Wulfston-a man’s being crushed to death! We’ve got to help him!”

“Where?” was Wulfston’s only question. They were still in the Lord Adept’s lands-he would never withhold his powers when one of his people needed him.

“This way!” answered Torio, and set off at a gallop, first along the road, then off it toward a stone quarry scarring the side of the range of hills that would intersect the road in a few more miles.

Wulfston did not need to be told what had happened-when they reached the scene, everything was instantly obvious.

These people were a family, earning their living by cutting rock from the hillside for building in Wulfston’s lands or in Zendi. The quarry was new, for the latest Lords of the Land had begun a spate of building such as had not been seen in most people’s lifetimes.

Beneath the steep walls created by their work, they had been easing a huge block of granite down an earthen ramp, controlling it with block and tackle, when the ropes had given way. The stone had trapped the legs of a young man in his twenties, who now lay helpless while the others tried to remove the rock or dig him out from under it. Shock had left him unconscious, so Torio no longer had to endure his pain as he Read beneath the rock.

“Wulfston, his left leg is almost torn off-he’s bleeding to death. They’ll never get him out alive!”

Indeed, the old man and two strong young men flinging their picks at the ground were making little progress-the pathway down which they slid the quarried stones had been worn to the living, unyielding rock.

Another young man, shivering even though his skin was covered with sweat, swore steadily as he tried to make his shaking hands ravel together the broken ropes to haul the stone off… his brother, Torio Read.

Two women, the younger one obviously pregnant, knelt beside the pinned man, wiping his face-but there was nothing they could do. His life was slipping away as his mother and his wife watched.

Another woman grabbed a pick and added her unskilled efforts to the task as Wulfston and Torio rode up. Down the slope, near the house, four children watched with huge eyes, not understanding what was happening, but too frightened to cry.

The three women looked up as the riders approached, but the men would not leave off their efforts.

“Me lord!” cried the older woman. “Oh, me lord-please help my boy! I’ll do anything-”

These people might never have seen Wulfston before, or perhaps have glimpsed him only at a distance at some ceremonial or other, but they knew the Lord of the Land at once. He was the only black man Torio knew of north of what had been the empire’s border.

As he and Torio got down from their horses, Wulfston hushed the mother and the rest of the family, saying, “We’ll help. Torio-is he alive?”

Gray with shock, the young man lay so still that it was impossible to tell by looking at him, but Torio Read him. “Yes, but he won’t be for long. If he’s not out from under there in minutes-”

“Oh, Bevan!” groaned the young man’s wife.

“Then there’s no choice but to move the rock,” said Wulfston. “You men-get over on the other side and haul on the ropes. I’m going to use your strength as well as mine. When I tell you, tilt the block toward you.”

Torio knew moving that huge block, of granite by Adept power alone-working directly against gravity-would tax Wulfston’s strength close to its limit. He almost started to tell the Lord Adept not to allow himself to become so vulnerable-but he shook off that thought. There was no question but that Bevan’s life had to be saved! How could such a selfish idea even cross his mind?

He had no time to examine where a thought so unlike his normal Reader’s instinct had come from, for Wulfston was bracing to use his powers, becoming completely unReadable as the strong quarrymen took their places on the opposite side of the rock, tightening the ropes.

Torio knelt beside the pinned man, waiting for the moment when the rock shivered, lifted-

“Higher!” he exclaimed, securing his grip under the young man’s shoulders.

Trembling, the block of stone crept upward another handspan-and Torio hauled Bevan out from under just before it dropped again with a thunderous “whump!”

Torio grasped the young man’s leg, where bright arterial blood pumped out, squeezing to keep the last of his life from spilling onto the rocky ground. “Wulfston!”

The Adept had sunk to his knees in recovery from his effort to lift the rock. He looked blankly toward Torio for a moment, then pulled himself away from the desire to collapse and came to Torio’s side.

“Straighten his leg,” he instructed Torio. “Unite the blood vessels.”

Torio did as he was told, feeling Wulfston go unReadable again. Torio Read carefully, holding the major vessels while Wulfston concentrated, and they healed together, normal blood flow resuming. Only then did he shove together the splintered bone ends, watching them knit miraculously together into a tenuous bond. Then, with Bevan’s wife and mother tenderly cleansing the wounds, the torn muscles were healed, but-

“The nerves, Wulfston.”

“I can’t,” the Adept said wearily. “Make certain all will stay alive for now-the rest will have to be healed later.”

The audience of quarrymen and their families stared as Bevan’s torn skin was carefully drawn back over his leg. Large chunks were missing, but the leg was saved, along with his life.

Finally, the heat of Adept healing spread beneath Torio’s hands, killing any infection that had been introduced, and continuing the healing as the young man slept. Torio had seen it a hundred times, but every time it was a new miracle: Wulfston had set in motion the healing powers of Bevan’s own body, which he could not activate on his own. He would continue to sleep and heal even after Wulfston left him, probably for more than a day before he woke with his pain gone and his leg well on the way to being whole again.

Wulfston had sat down, tailor-fashion, to concentrate on the healing. Now he remained still, withdrawn-Torio wondered if he would fall asleep right there. His tiredness was now completely Readable.

But after a few moments he looked up, blinking. “Your son will heal,” he told the anxious parents. “Carry him to your house, and let him sleep until he wakens naturally. Then feed him-he will need a great deal of food to restore his strength.

Don’t let him try to walk. His leg is alive, but he will not be able to feel it until the nerves are healed.

When I return from Zendi, you must bring him to my castle. There Torio and I will finish the healing.”

Bevan’s father and his brothers carried him carefully down to the house, his mother hurrying ahead to prepare his bed.

“Oh, my lord!” Bevan’s wife knelt beside Wulfston, sobbing. “I thought sure he was dead, my lord! How can we ever repay you?”

“No need,” Wulfston replied. “It is my duty to keep my people healthy-I’m just glad I was nearby.

However, if you can provide me with something to eat-?”

“Wulfston!” Torio warned suddenly. “Someone’s coming!” And to the woman he ordered, “Run! Get into the house!”

As Bevan’s wife fled clumsily down the path, around the side of the hill came armed riders in the ragtag garb of hill bandits. They ignored the fleeing woman, charging directly for Wulfston and Torio.

There were a dozen men, enough to make an Adept waste his powers until he made himself helpless-provided they knew exactly how to trick him into doing so.

And it appeared that they knew what they were doing, for despite his tiredness after moving the quarried stone, Wulfston sent a sheet of flame roaring up out of the ground before their horses. The animals screamed and reared, but in moments the riders had them under control and were charging once more toward the two men, cutting off their chance of escape down the path.

Wulfston did not kill indiscriminately; Torio knew he meant to frighten the attackers off, but he hadn’t succeeded.

“Wulfston-save your strength!” said Torio, grasping the Adept by the arm and hauling him behind the rock as the bandits drew close enough to shoot arrows from short bows. They clattered off the rock, but the men kept coming, those without bows now drawing throwing knives.

And below them on the slope, four other bandits rode toward the quarriers’ house with torches. In moments the thatch roof was ablaze.

From their position, Wulfston could see what was happening below. Instantly, his responsibility for his people asserted itself, and he concentrated on putting out the blaze-again working against nature, for once that dry straw had begun to flame, it would have gone up instantly without Adept powers to stem it.

“Wulfston, they’re dividing your attention!” Torio warned. “Put those men down there to sleep!”

That the Adept had the power to do, but Torio could Read him clutching the granite block for support, and feared that the dozen men drawing in for the kill might be too many for Wulfston to handle. The young Reader drew his sword, prepared to defend Wulfston and himself to the extent of his strength and skill.

The huge stone blocked the path, so that the attackers could get through only on one side. Three men jumped off their horses and started around. The first one ran straight into Torio’s sword, for the Reader could tell every move he planned and be ready for him.

At their companion’s death cry, the other two charged forward together.

Torio was a skilled swordsman-and, thank the gods, these two were not. He used the advantage of his sightless eyes, letting them drift unfocused, unnerving his opponents as they realized they were battling a blind swordsman.

But even as Torio held the two at bay, the nine other bandits leaped from their horses and began to climb over the granite block, aided by the ropes still slung around it.

“Wulfston-they’re climbing over the stone! Retreat!”

The Adept, though, took another action. The ropes around the mighty stone blazed into flame, and the bandits dropped off, yowling, sucking at burned hands.

Starting fires, Torio knew, was one of the easiest of Adept skills, taking very little power. As the flame sizzled around the ropes to where he fought with the two bandits, one of them started at the noise, allowing Torio to get in under his guard and skewer him.

As a Reader, Torio had to deal swift death or suffer with his victim. He shoved his keen-edged sword upward to pierce the man’s heart.

The other man’s fear sweat was a stench in Torio’s nostrils, but in terror he slashed at the Reader, forgetting what little style he had had as he drove the younger man back with the sheer power of panic.

Torio evaded his blows, letting him waste the charge of adrenaline, waiting for an opening-

But Wulfston did not wait. Seeing Torio apparently being beaten back, he stopped the man’s heart, and the bandit dropped at Torio’s feet.

Just as Torio looked toward Wulfston, though, the fire consuming the thick ropes around the huge rock reached the underside-and as their support collapsed to ashes the stone shifted and slid.

Wulfston grasped the moment. Working with the already-moving stone, he sent it skidding sideways, right toward the bandits on the pathway, crushing them to death against the side of the quarry.

Torio gasped with their death agony, but in moments it was over, and he turned to Wulfston just as-

Above them, on the edge of the quarry, more bandits appeared. Minor Adepts, they joined hands and concentrated together-just as they must have done to crush Bevan under that rock! It was all a trap-a ruse to draw Wulfston here and use up his powers so that he was helpless before their minor abilities.

A sheet of flame rose out of the pathway. Wulfston swore as he and Torio ducked away from it, the Adept stumbling with weariness.

“Why didn’t you Read them?” Wulfston demanded.

“They were braced to use their powers,” Torio explained. “With everything else going on-”

But even as he spoke, the gang at the top of the quarry were focusing on him.

He felt his heart falter. Pain clutched at his chest as he gasped, “Wulfston, they’re-”

Wulfston saw at once that the young Reader was in pain, and Torio felt Adept power set his heart back into a normal pattern. But how much strength could Wulfston have left?

As he panted for breath, Torio felt a peculiar sick knowledge that he had not Read the whole story. The minor Adepts were retreating, and from behind them-

“Wulfston! There are other men up there!”

His warning came too late. New attackers suddenly dropped out of the sky.

They leaped from the top of the quarry-stronger Adepts, able to protect themselves from injury in the fall-and they were armed.

Knives and swords flashed-each man was a living weapon, a sword in one hand, a knife in the other, blades on their feet, on their elbows, leaping toward Wulfston, toward Torio.

Death came slashing through the air, the attackers using gravity, only guiding their fall to be certain to land on their victims.

It took a mere split-second, too short a time for Wulfston and Torio to run, with no shelter closer than the house far down the pathway.

Torio Read death upon him, three men falling toward him, one slashing for his head even as the young Reader lifted his sword and prepared to take at least one of them with him-

Flame!

Screams!

In midair, the falling men burst into flame!

Their kicking and writhing changed their course — the one attempting to decapitate Torio bounced off the quarry wall, sword clattering on the rocks as he landed uncontrolled, the pain of broken legs unfelt in the agony of burning flesh.

The seven who had dropped on them burned and screamed-five able to stand, dancing and shrieking as the fire ate from the outside in.

“Wulfston!” Torio screamed in the men’s agony. “Kill them! Kill them!” His own flesh seemed to sear and flake off as theirs did, so caught was he in their death throes.

Instead, a sheet of flame engulfed the other attackers watching from the quarry rim, sending them screaming and writhing and dancing the hideous dance of death as their flesh cooked off their bones, taking their hearts and brains last.

Only as the last man died could Torio stop Reading, cutting off the pain but leaving him blind, closed in on himself, sweating and shaking-and then vomiting as the stench of burnt flesh assaulted him anew.

Finally, he had to Read again. Still trembling, he Read slowly outward, finding only corpses.

They were all dead. There was no more pain.

Wulfston, as open to being Read as a nonAdept, was fighting not to pass out.

But he was awake, and that meant-

“How much strength would it have taken to stop their hearts?” Torio demanded. “Why did you let them die so horribly?”

Wulfston turned weary eyes to Torio. “Are there any more?”

Torio Read. No new attackers lurked anywhere around, nor was anyone fleeing. All were dead- even the ones down by the house, he Read sickly. Wulfston hadn’t chanced just putting them to sleep, lest they waken after he had exhausted his powers. “No. You killed them all,” he said flatly.

“Are you hurt?” asked the Lord Adept.

“No, but-”

“But you might have required healing,” explained Wulfston.

Torio knew, intellectually, why the Adept was trained to save the last of his strength in a situation such as they had just gone through-a last-resort means of escape or healing.

But his heart still protested the agony Wulfston had allowed.

“Torio, can you get me to the stonecutter’s cottage?” Wulfston asked.

“Yes, if you can walk. Lean on me.”

The needs of a Lord Adept who had expended his powers for them was something the stonecutter’s family understood-and Torio was glad to see that it was no hardship for them to meet even the appetite of a Lord Adept. They were welcomed joyfully into the house, where the main room served as kitchen, dining hall, and family gathering place. There was meat aplenty, just what an Adept required to restore energy quickly after using his powers.

At the gratitude of the innocent people the bandits had used so cruelly, Torio accepted that they had done what they had to-Reader and Adept working together, to protect those without their powers.

Feeling better by the moment, he ate tasty brown bread with butter, the ubiquitous cooked vegetables, fresh berries, and a rich tart served with cream-a meal designed to give strength to men who worked the quarry.

He had to explain that Readers did not eat meat, and discovered that everyone had thought him an apprentice Adept, since Readers were still scarce in this part of the savage lands.

Bevan’s family put Wulfston to bed in the loft where the married couples slept, and were astonished to find that Torio was wide awake-and full of questions about where their attackers had come from. If only they had left one of them alive!

“I dinna understand,” said Morgone, the old stonecutter who headed the family. “We’ve had naught o’

trouble wi’ bandits. People herebouts, they like what Lord Wulfston’s done. We got homes, food-who needs turn bandit?”

“I don’t know,” Torio told him, “but we’re going to find out.”

Although he had explained that Reading took no physical energy, Torio did accept a bed and went up to it early, for he had messages to deliver.

To cover the distances he must now Read, Torio had to leave his body. Had his training at the Academy proceeded normally, at his age he would be undertaking such an exercise occasionally, under the guidance of a teacher. The events of the past two years, however, had required him to Read over distances so often that leaving his body had become commonplace.

He smoothed the bed and lay down carefully, positioned so that his circulation could not be cut off while his body was unoccupied. Then he allowed his “self to drift upward.

Immediately, his Reading took on a clarity possible only when the flesh was left behind. No longer did he have to visualize the world deliberately; it was all there, without effort and without restriction.

He Read outward from the stonecutter’s cottage, searching for signs of further danger. A few miles down the road there was an inn, where local farmers sometimes stopped for a cup of ale at this time of day.

That’s all they were-farmers, the innkeeper, and his wife and three daughters, one of them flirting with a local farm lad.

But there were no strangers, no travelers, and no one with a worry in his head except the boy wondering if the girl he favored cared for him, or whether she acted this way with other customers.

Ignoring the inn, Torio scanned the fields, empty or emptying. Nothing more sinister there than rabbits and field mice. Nor did the woodlands harbor people, except for a woodcutter who lived there and a patrol of Wulfston’s foresters out to see that no one took deer out of season.

Then where had their attackers come from?

As Morgone said, there was no widespread dissatisfaction among Wulfston’s people. Only the bandits who preyed on travelers were unhappy that the new Lord of the Land did not take the attitude of Drakonius, who had ignored them as long as they did not interfere with his plans for conquest.

Wulfston’s first impulse had been to give the bandits fair warning to mend their ways-and then wipe out the ones who refused to turn to farming, hunting, woodcutting, or other honest occupation. However, too many outlaws were distrustful, having suffered many years of Drakonius’ unpredictability. Furthermore, they considered this new lord, with his preference for alliance over conquest, to be dangerously weak-easy prey for the next Drakonius.

Over the nearly two years of Wulfston’s reign, though, he had made the main roads safe. Many outlaws had decided that the risks of being caught now that there were Readers in the land outweighed the risks of pledging loyalty to the new lord. The rest moved northward, out of the area ruled by the alliance of Adepts and Readers who called their union the Savage Empire.

It was not Torio who had persuaded Wulfston not to track down all the outlaws and summarily execute them. It was Jareth, his chief adviser from among his newly inherited people, who had pointed out that under Drakonius’ rule many, many people had been so plundered as to be left with little choice except to prey on others to survive. While the majority had returned gratefully to honest work at Wulfston’s invitation, there were enough suspicious ones that nearly everyone had kin or friend still outlaw.

Wholesale slaughter of the hill bandits might well have turned hesitantly loyal followers against Wulfston once again.

Torio had agreed with Jareth, although for a Reader’s reasons: enduring the pain and death of other people turned any Reader against violence as a solution to violence.

After today’s experience, though, he wondered if he could have been wrong. Might there have been less suffering in the long run had the bandits been permanently eliminated? They had obviously taken Wulfston’s decision as a sign of weakness. How many other bands of minor Adepts were there? What would they learn from what had happened today?

At least they would be easier to find in the future. This trip to Zendi was to meet with some of the Readers who walked the Path of the Dark Moon-those who had not the strength or skill to attain the rank of Magister or Master, but whose numbers had formerly made them the eyes and ears of an empire.

Wulfston intended to offer them his protection and a comfortable living in exchange for their forming such a network in his land.

Today, though, there was only Torio. Having determined that there were no other bandits hiding within a day’s ride in Wulfston’s lands, he Read along the little-used trail to the north, out beyond the border.

There, in the rough terrain where the chain of hills became the foothills of mighty mountains, Torio found a camp. There must have been two hundred people, men, women, and children living in makeshift shelters, tents, covered wagons, and pine-branch lean-tos. It was a sort of semipermanent community which could easily pack up and move-as they seemed to be preparing to do soon.

The camp buzzed with excitement and expectation. Torio had no trouble Reading what was on every mind: within the next few days their leaders would return to tell them they had killed the upstart Wulfston, and they would move in and take over his lands, turning them into an outlaw kingdom where they could live at ease, plundering the foolish ones who still toiled in the fields.

No one here knew that their leaders, those with some Adept powers, lay dead in the quarry far inside Wulfston’s lands. Not one had escaped to tell the tale.

Torio knew that, leader less, they would probably break up again into small outlaw bands… until they could coerce some other minor Adepts to try once more to unite against one lone Lord Adept. At least that was what he told Lenardo when he contacted him in Zendi a few minutes later.

He let Lenardo Read the day’s experience directly from his mind, and then waited for his mentor’s comments.

“You’ve done very well, Torio,” Lenardo told him. “Not long ago you would have come to me immediately, instead of searching for the outlaw camp with your own powers.”

“But what should we do about them?” Torio asked.

Lenardo had left his wife and daughter to entertain Lilith and her son Ivorn, who had just arrived. Now he was in his study, at the table which he and Aradia used for a desk. He selected a map. “The camp is not in our territory. I do not know whether one of the Lords Adept to the north of us considers that area his, or whether everyone leaves that terrain to bandits and wanderers. I don’t think that camp will break up for a few days-they have no way of knowing what happened to their attack force until they send someone to investigate. You found no sign of Readers among them? Somehow they found out that Wulfston would be traveling without a retinue.”

“No Readers,” Torio told him with total certainly. “Spies in Zendi would have heard we were expected, and then it would have been easy enough for just one person to watch Wulfston’s castle to see whether people gathered to form a retinue. And he’s known for avoiding unnecessary ceremony* Besides, I should think that since it’s an alliance of Readers with Adepts that has made their life difficult as bandits, they’d be even more distrustful of Readers than most savages.”

Lenardo smiled. “Who are the savages, Torio? Anybody who isn’t us?” But he obviously didn’t expect an answer. “Get some rest. I’ll Read the outlaw camp in the morning, to make sure they’re not planning to move before we can decide what to do about them.”

“All right, as soon as I’ve reported to Rolf what happened today-Wulfston’s household must think we’re with you by now, unless the watchers have reported otherwise. And if they have, they’ll be worried about us.”

“Good thinking-always be considerate of those who depend on you.”

So Torio withdrew-and then sought the opposite direction, back to the castle where he and Wulfston had begun their journey. It was still early evening; Rolf was just finishing a consulation with local farmers concerning the amount of rain needed in the next week.

Rolf, like Torio, had been born blind, but with a single Adept power: control of weather. Then last summer, with the help of Torio and Melissa, he had learned to Read. Now, although he would never have Torio’s abilities, he no longer used a stick to find his way around, nor required anyone to guide him.

Even with only limited Reading power, he was happy with his newfound independence.

At the moment, he was the only Reader at Wulfston’s castle. He could never have Read to the stonecutter’s cottage where Torio was, but a stronger Reader could always contact a weaker one. When Torio touched Rolfs mind, the other boy quickly responded, “Have you reached Zendi already?”

“No, but both Wulfston and I are unhurt.”

Only after that reassurance did he explain what had happened.

“How could anyone want to attack you and Lord Wulfston?” Rolf asked in genuine bewilderment.

“Lord Torio, you and Wulfston must not travel without a retinue again.”

“We’ll worry about that some other time. What you must do now is watch for spies around the castle.

Somebody knew when Wulfston would be traveling, and that he and I would be alone. That person probably left the area when we did-but be alert for other strangers, Rolf. If one band of malcontents could hatch such a plot, it’s always possible there could be others.”

“Yes, my lord,” Rolf told him, and Torio knew security would be redoubled. So when he broke contact and returned to his body, he was able to relax in the knowledge that he had done everything he had to, and fall asleep-only to toss and turn with nightmares that disappeared when he woke, shaking, with a haunting sense of guilt.

When Wulfston and Torio reached Zendi the next day, everyone in their circle already knew what had happened, and agreed that something had to be done about the outlaw band. “If nothing else,” said Aradia, “we must make an example of them, so that no one else decides we are easy prey.”

She hugged her brother, a striking visual contrast between the small, pale woman with hair so light a blond it looked white in some lights, and the tall black man who called her sister. Wulfston at least looked strong. Aradia’s apparent frailty belied the incredible Adept powers at her command, for she was in the prime of her powers and still growing-as was Lenardo.

Wulfston had been adopted by Aradia’s father when his Adept powers manifested in early childhood.

The two children had somehow grown up best of friends, closer than many siblings by blood. There were still times when Wulfston knew better than Lenardo how to cope with Aradia’s willfulness.

The group of people who together ruled the Savage Empire had grown to include Lenardo, Aradia, Wulfston, Torio, Melissa, Lilith, Ivorn, and Master Clement, who had been teacher to both Lenardo and Torio. Melissa was not there when they arrived; she was at the hospital set up here in Zendi so that the most seriously ill or injured need not be taken all the way to Gaeta for expert care. A Reader grown up in an Academy, like Torio, she had already been a skilled healer when she learned to use Adept powers, and now her ability to cure was almost miraculous.

Torio went to his room and unpacked clean clothes, eager for the luxury of a genuine bath. At Wulfston’s castle he could have a shower, the water warmed by the sun on the rooftop cistern, or in winter a hot bath with the water hauled by servants to his room. But Zendi, which had once been an Aventine city, had real plumbing-and it was put to full use in the luxurious bathhouse.

Decius, a young Reader who had come here with Master Clement, joined him, walking easily on his wooden leg. “Zanos says the Master Sorcerers of Madura might be able to grow me a new leg,” he announced as he removed his peg before sliding into the water.

“What?” Torio asked in confusion. He recalled Zanos, the huge red-haired gladiator who had turned out to have minor Adept powers. He had seduced a female Reader-Torio couldn’t remember her name.

The two had escaped the Aventine Empire in the chaos of the short war last summer, and ingratiated themselves with Lilith by keeping another band of outlaws from taking over her castle and stealing her treasures while she was away.

“He’s been asking everybody about Madura,” Decius explained in typical adolescent carelessness for logical connections. “That’s where he was born, and kidnapped and brought to Tiberium to be a gladiator. I mean, he was captured as a little boy, and then when he grew up-”

“I understand, Decius,” said Torio, luxuriating in water deep enough to swim in. “What’s this about Master Sorcerers?”

“I guess that’s what they call Adepts there- but they’re Readers, too, and they can do lots more than our Adepts. At least, that’s what the legends say. Some sailors said-”

“Sailors’ tales, Decius? Aren’t you a good enough Reader to tell they make most of their adventures up?”

“Well, other people say it, too. They say they can make cut-off limbs grow back-they could probably fix your eyes, too.”

“I get along just fine without them,” Torio reminded him.

“Well… they say they have the power to fly. And do real magic, like turning men into monkeys.

And-they even say they can bring the dead back to life!”

Torio laughed, and lunged for Decius, ducking him. The younger boy retaliated, pulling Torio under, then waiting to splash water in his face when he emerged snorting.

But Torio was bigger and stronger, and the better Reader. Decius could not shield his thoughts as well, so Torio knew which move he would make next, and captured the wriggling boy to duck him again.

When Decius shot out of the depths, blowing water out of his mouth, Torio caught him and pinned him against the pool wall for a moment. “Decius, stories like that are fun to tell around the fire in the evening, but you know they are misunderstandings, if they’re not totally imaginary. Did you counter the sailors by telling them you have a friend who was raised from the dead?”

“Well, uh-” Torio Read that the boy had had to work very hard not to yield to that temptation.

“You see? You know I wasn’t dead-just some nonReaders thought I was, so when I turned up alive they thought the savage healers had brought me back. That’s how accurate you can expect those stories the sailors told you to be. Flying, indeed!”

“Why not, if the Adept is powerful enough?” Decius demanded stubbornly.

“How long can any Adept work directly against nature? Or did your sailors claim that these sorcerers with their powers to regrow limbs and eyes used them to grow wings for themselves?”

“No-don’t be silly!” Decius protested, hurt by Torio’s mocking tone. At Fifteen, he was still fighting to be taken seriously.

“Hey-I’m sorry,” said Torio. “Decius, it’s just that you don’t understand the limitations of Adept powers yet. Talk to Master Lenardo and Master Clement about Reading for some of the Lords Adept. You’re good enough to do most of what they require, and it will give you a better idea of just how limited an Adept’s powers are when you see someone like Wulfston or Aradia collapse after an Adept trick that uses up all their reserves. If you knew how much energy it took to lift something against gravity even for just a moment, you’d realize why flying is impossible.”

“Yeah… I know,” Decius said grudgingly. “But-how can you be sure there aren’t Adepts somewhere with even more powers than Wulfston or Aradia?”

“You’re right-I don’t know,” Torio conceded. No one understood exactly how Adept powers worked, for an Adept using them was unReadable. Even Readers who had learned Adept tricks, like Lenardo and Melissa, found that they could not Read at the same time they were applying Adept power.

When the two boys had finished their bath, they dressed in familiar Aventine-style tunics, the warm-weather garb Lenardo had popularized in his lands. Torio still felt more comfortable in such clothes than in the silk shirts, hose, and tabards of the savage style.

Decius still wore the plain white linen tunic of a Reader in training, while Torio’s was green silk, edged in gold embroidery-a concession to his position as a savage lord. He would have preferred to dress in the black-edged white tunic indicative of a Reader who had reached one of the upper ranks.

Master Clement still wore the robes of a Master

Reader-scarlet cloak over a black-banded white tunic-every day. Lenardo, who had the right to them as well, wore them only on ceremonial occasions.

At nineteen, Torio knew it was better to follow Lenardo’s example than Master Clement’s, for there was no denying that the world had changed.

Lords Adept had no rules for clothing except richness, it appeared. As their powers made them individualistic, their garb was idiosyncratic-just as Readers dressed alike because their powers united them rather than setting them apart from one another.

Only it’s all the same power, Torio reminded himself as he entered Lenardo’s house and Read Melissa waiting for him in the courtyard.

“Decius, Melissa’s-”

“I know,” the younger boy told him. “Go on and get all silly with her. You don’t have to worry that /’”

Read what you’re doing!”

In another year or sd you’ll understand, thought Torio to himself, wondering if Master Clement was trying to stem that awakening in Decius. He had beaten it out of the young Lenardo, Torio had once Read to his utter astonishment. He had never known the gentle Master Reader to use physical punishment on any other student. Despite his efforts, the desire had merely lain dormant in Lenardo until he met Aradia.

Torio had experienced the vague yearnings of adolescence some years ago, too, but he had sublimated them until he had met Melissa last year. Now… neither of them knew how to achieve what they wanted.

Marriage, they were sure-but when? They were young enough to wait, but also young enough not to want to. Had they not both been brought up in the segregated disciplines of the Academy system, they might simply have followed their inclinations by now.

But both had desires beyond those of the flesh. Torio’s Reading abilities were growing at a rate which astonished the Master Readers. While Melissa’s Reading talent was maturing only at the normal rate for her age and potential, she had added Adept powers which were growing daily.

The wisdom of both Readers and Adepts who tried to advise the young couple was to wait until their growth spurt had reached its peak before consummating their physical desires.

Thus it was easier for them to be apart most of the time. Nonetheless, Torio went eagerly to the sheltered bench in the courtyard where Melissa waited.

She was a slender young woman with a heart-shaped face and dark hair whose natural curl asserted itself in soft wisps about her face. Spring sunshine had already brought out the freckles across her nose, and she appeared healthy and contented and happy to see him.

They Read each other without words for a moment. Then Torio took Melissa into his arms. Both stopped Reading, to assure their privacy. That left Torio blind, but his other senses were thoroughly saturated with the feel, taste, and scent of Melissa.

They kissed until both were satisfied that they were really together, then sat down side by side, Torio’s arm around Melissa, her head on his shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she told him. “I heard what happened yesterday.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” said Torio. “How are you? How are your healing techniques progressing?”

“Steadily. Torio, I don’t understand why you can’t learn Adept powers. If those attackers had succeeded in killing Wulfston yesterday, you’d have been helpless.” She shuddered.

“I haven’t forgotten how to use a sword,” he reminded her.

“Against people who can stop your heart at a distance?”

“I know. But if you had felt those people burning to death as I did… perhaps you wouldn’t be so eager to increase your Adept powers.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “The Lords Adept have traditionally used their powers for destruction-even someone as thoughtful as Wulfston does it instinctively when his life is threatened. But when those powers are turned to healing… Torio, do you remember Zanos?”

“You, too? Decius was just chattering about him. What’s going on?”

“Zanos and his wife Astra came with Lilith, and we had a long talk last night. You know, Lilith has set apart some of her lands for Zanos and Astra to rule-they each have both Reading and Adept powers.

But Zanos isn’t ready to settle down here in the Savage Empire until he goes back to his homeland, which he hasn’t seen in over twenty years.”

“The home of the Master Sorcerers?” Torio asked.

“Yes!” Melissa said eagerly. “Madura. It’s a group of large islands, far in the northern sea. Zanos wants to see if his village is still there, and if any of his kinfolk are still living.”

“So why shouldn’t he go and see if he wants to? Melissa, we’re not trying to hold people who don’t want to stay here, are we?”

“No-of course Zanos and Astra are free to go. But it will be a long journey. They’re looking for people who might want to join their expedition. There could be dangers, so they want as many Adepts and Readers as possible.”

“And you want to go,” Torio said flatly, firmly quelling the urge to Read her.

He felt Melissa lift her head, and knew she was looking at him. “Yes,” she said. “I want to go. Torio, they have healing techniques far beyond anything we know. Here, a baby born blind can be healed, but nothing can be done for someone your age. In Madura-”

“-they can fly, too,” he interrupted her.

“Torio, this is serious! Yes, it’s hard to filter out the truth from the garbled stories-but we are just floundering here, using trial and error to learn how Readers and Adepts can best join their powers. In Madura they already know! So why should it be surprising that they can do things we can’t?”

“At least you’re a little more logical than Decius,” he told her. “But Melissa, you still have so much to learn here. Let the adventurous ones go-and if they find the Madurans friendly and willing to trade knowledge and goods, if they have these healing powers you’re so eager for, then of course you will go and study in one of their hospitals. But to undertake a long, dangerous journey on the basis of a few exaggerated tales-”

“You sound just like Lenardo!” she said in exas-peration. “Torio, you’re young-don’t you want some adventure in your life? I do. I love you, but I don’t want to stay here just because you’re afraid to stir out of one safe little haven-”

“Just yesterday I was nearly killed in this ‘safe little haven’! Melissa, I have had enough adventure in the past two years to last a lifetime. If you want to go with Zanos-”

Suddenly Melissa was no longer leaning against him. He could feel her, still on the bench beside him, sitting bolt upright as she demanded, ” What did you say?”

At a loss to explain her reaction, he repeated, “I’ve had enough adventure-”

‘ “No-after that.”

“I started to say, if you want to go with Zanos, I won’t try to stop you except to ask you to think it through with me.”

He could feel her eyes boring into him, and let himself Read her. She was staring at him in alarm, Reading him in return. “Torio-I’m sorry. What I said to you was out of line-but you don’t even know what you said to me!”

“Well, what did I say?”

He could feel her fear and concern as she told him, “You broke off in the middle of a sentence. Then you took your arm away from around me, focused your eyes on me the way you do when you’re Reading-except that I knew you were not seeing me-and then you said, ‘Your destiny, Melissa, is to be found in the frozen isle of Madura. Zanos’ fate lies not there, but in a land he has never seen, beyond the southern sea.’ “

“That’s silly,” he said. “I don’t talk that way, and I’d certainly know if I said any such thing. I’m trying to talk you out of going to Madura, so why would I-?”

But he could Read that she had heard him say the very words she claimed-he Read it through her eyes, saw himself, heard his voice speak it.

“By the gods!” he whispered.

“I… I think so,” whispered Melissa in return.

“Well,” said Torio, “if what I said is true, if your destiny truly does lie in Madura-then so does mine!”