Convergence (45 page)

"I'm with you," Valiant said as Holter began to turn away. "But before we start anythin', let's see how much more help we've got."

Coll nodded immediately when Valiant looked at him, and Mardimil apparently took Coil's willingness as a signal to add his own. They all then turned to look at Drowd, but the academician had somehow left the table without their noticing. Where he'd gone was something they didn't have the time to wonder about, not when the fight was already beginning to go physical.

"Let's work this together," Valiant said quickly, addressing the other three. "Mardimil—do you think you can use air to circle and separate out the six who started this? Good, because that's the most important part. Next comes surrounding them with wood shavings which Coll will do—to let the other patrons know something is happening—and last but not least will come Holter's and my contribution. Let's get started."

Mardimil raised his brows, obviously wondering what Valiant meant to do, but then he shrugged and turned to look at the six main rioters. He'd apparently decided that he'd find out Valiant's intentions soon enough, and got down to doing his part. Valiant watched with a good deal of satisfaction as the six troublemakers were suddenly and forcefully separated from everyone else, most probably thinking some invisible giant was to blame. That was pretty much the way it looked, with the defenders being shoved back away from the six, and the six
themselves
pushed together. Valiant had never before seen a High practitioner of Air magic work, but knew he was certainly seeing one now.

Once the separation was complete, Coll took his turn with Earth magic. Not only did he use almost every wood shaving on the tavern's floor to surround the men, he also seemed to have used them to separate each of the six from the others. Again, the amount of strength and control necessary to do that was impressive, but since it was now Valiant's turn he left being impressed for some other time.

Instead he opened to his own magic, and brought down the coldest, most chill water he could reach that was still liquid. Holter chuckled as he followed suit, obviously having waited to see what Valiant had in mind. Together they gave the six men the coldest baths they could ever have
had,
ignoring the men's howls while they made sure none of the icy deluge ran off onto the tavern's floor. If the six had started that trouble because they were drunk, the treatment they were now getting ought to sober them up to the point of peacefulness again.

Once each of the six had been thoroughly doused, Valiant returned the water to the upper skies. When Holter followed his example, Valiant was then able to signal Coll to release the wood shavings.
As
soon as the shavings had settled back in place Mardimil withdrew the fence of air, and they were able to look at the six again.

The men stood shivering and white-faced, obviously scared sober and calm, which was what they'd been trying to accomplish. When all six broke and ran for the door, fighting each other to scramble through, Valiant joined Coll, Mardimil, and Holter in laughing uproariously.

The laughter felt good, but suddenly it came to Valiant that they were the only ones in the large room laughing. Everyone else, patrons, servants, workers—and Ginge— stood and stared as though looking at ghosts. The laughter trailed off as one by one Valiant's companions noticed the same thing he had. The six men who had run out had been terrified, and the ones who remained weren't far from being the same.

"Whut's wrong with
th
' buncha you?" Holter suddenly demanded into the thickened silence, looking around from face to face. "You sayin' you wanted
them
hungers t'tear this place apart? Since we got it stopped, you oughta be thankin' us!"

"We do thank you," Ginge said after a long hesitation, during which no one seemed to move except for the requirements of breathing. "Leastways
I
thank you, this bein' my place 'n all.
It's
jest
...
I ain't
never
seen nothin' like that, or felt it neither. The power you used t'bring that there water down . . . both
a you
...
it felt like a pair a kicks from a giant! How d'you
pull
in that much, an' why ain't you all burned up 'cause you did?"

"An' whut you gonna do wiv it next?" a voice whispered from somewhere, a man's voice trembling like a frightened girl's. That seemed to be the question bothering everyone there, even though they all surely knew the law. Using the power to harm someone usually got you sent to the Deep Caverns—but only if you weren't really strong. It was unheard of for a High to be condemned, and the whispers claimed that that was so no matter what they did. Valiant had heard—and believed—the whispers himself, so their next move was obvious.

"I think it's time we thanked you for your hospitality and said good night," Valiant announced as he rose to his feet, trying to keep his tone light and friendly. "This is surely the best tavern in Gan Garee, and I believe I also speak for my friends when I give you thanks for makin' us welcome here. We'll remember our visit fondly."

By then the others had also gotten to their feet, so Valiant led the way to the door. Men stepped back out of their path without saying a word, and every face showed the same trembling uncertainty. Were they serious about going without harming anyone, or would they suddenly turn around and lash out with furious anger behind the monstrous power they controlled? No one seemed to know, possibly not even when they were all outside and had pulled the door to behind them.

"I never expected
anyone
to look at me like that," Coll said after a moment, sounding somewhat shaken himself. "They were afraid of us, but all we did was
help
them. Why would that make them afraid?"

"Probably because they've never known anyone even as strong as
a Middle
," Valiant offered when the others remained silent. "I never knew
a Middle
, not personally, and I remember agreein' with people that you just can't trust the ones with real power. Since I wasn't into showin' off, no one really understood how strong
I
was. That made me one of
them
rather than one of the faceless
group
with
power,
and I never saw myself any other way. Now . . ."

Now he and the others had suddenly had the ground cut out from under their feet, changing their stance in a way that would never let them go back to what they'd been. Realizing that made Valiant feel horribly lonely, and led to another disturbing question: he'd been hoping that something would happen to let him go home, but
could
he go back? If his own family ever looked at him the way those people in the tavern had . . .

"We better get
th
' coach an' go back to th' house," Holter said in a defeated voice, giving Valiant the impression that the small man had already been barred from ever going home again. "Wouldn't want Ginge t'look out an' find us standin' here, not after how nice
he
wus t'us . . ."

No one seemed willing or able to argue that, so they began to trudge along the street toward the stable where the coach was supposed to be. For an outing that had started out so well, the only way it could have ended worse would have been to have guardsmen witness their performance.

Valiant had finally remembered something the others had clearly also forgotten, certainly because of all the brew they'd had. Individuals might be sent to the Deep Caverns for using their ability to harm others, but those of different aspects who tried to act together were summarily executed. Valiant and the others hadn't exactly acted together and all five aspects hadn't been represented, but the fine point of difference wasn't one Valiant would have enjoyed arguing before a court. Not when they weren't yet Highs, just a handful of hopefuls. . . .

"That reminds me," Valiant said suddenly as they approached the stable entrance. "Drowd is still missin'. If he hasn't already come out ahead of us, we'll have to send the driver back to the tavern to look for him."

The others muttered something in agreement without looking overly concerned, and
Valiant
couldn't blame them. A man like Drowd was usually popular, but only because those flocking around him were afraid of what he might say about them if they
weren't
his friend. With no one in their group willing to hear barbs against any of the others, Drowd's popularity had taken a severe beating. If he ended up gone for good, it was unlikely that anyone but the testing authority would be upset.

The large stable doors stood open with a small amount of lamplight pouring a short way out into the dark. Just inside to the left, in a space about three stalls wide and deep, was a sitting area fixed up by and for the stablemen. Old, mismatched wooden chairs stood around a splintery wooden table with almost all of its finish gone. A large stable lantern illuminated the area, showing an old man and two boys along with their driver, all four sipping brew from battered cups and smoking pipes. When their driver saw them he rose to his feet, murmured something which the old man nodded to with a cackle, then proceeded to empty his pipe.

"Thought ya might be" along soon, so I had th' horses hitched t'th' coach," he drawled as he made sure the dottle hadn't a single spark left to it. "That other 'un, he tried t'tell me you wusn't comin' out t'night atall, so I oughta take him back alone. Got mad when I said I'd wait some t'be sure, an' now here you all
is
. Sure glad I waited."

All that was said without looking at Valiant or any of the others, and then the man ambled back into the stable proper to get the coach. He used a small glow in the palm of his hand to light his way, one that wasn't likely to frighten any of the horses.

"And you were worried about Drowd," Coll said to Valiant, his air of disgust clearly aimed at the academician. "The man was ready to abandon us here, without even knowing whether or not someone would call the guard down on us. We ought to ask them to put him in a different residence."

"They won't agree," Mardimil said, still showing a bit of that dreamy air that suggested he hadn't yet thrown off the effects of the brew. "Since they don't yet know which of us will win High positions, they won't take the chance of really offending any of us. And I meant to ask: why did we have to leave so early?"

"I'll explain it all tomorrow," Coll told him, which made Mardimil smile and nod agreeably. Valiant thought it was a shame that they couldn't keep Mardimil permanently drunk. He wasn't nearly as pleasant when he was sober. . . .

Their driver brought the coach forward to where they could board without worrying what they might be stepping into before stepping into the coach. A shadowy figure already sat inside in one corner, but that presented no problem at all. Holter wordlessly climbed to the box beside the driver where he'd sat on the way there, leaving just enough room inside for the others.

"Well, I'm very relieved to see you all again," Drowd said in an uneven voice once everyone was settled and the coach had begun to move. "Would you believe that that fool of a driver wanted to take me back alone, leaving the rest of you here? I refused to allow it, of course, and stayed in the coach to be certain he didn't leave with it anyway. We should all report the man tomorrow, to be certain he isn't used again."

Valiant simply looked out his window without replying, leaving it to the others to tell the man what they thought of him. When the others also remained silent, Valiant smiled faintly into the darkness. Drowd would have no idea whether or not they believed him, and that would turn out to be worse for him than simply being told off Maybe tomorrow one of them would get around to telling him what they thought of him, but right now the pain was still too fresh and intense. As if by the stroke of some magic wand, they had all suddenly become outcasts! Even if he found a way to go

home
, wouldn't people take to pointing at him and whispering among themselves? They hadn't yet realized how different he was before he left, but now, after they'd had a chance to think about it. . . .

Valiant sat staring out the window at the dark streets of a dozing city, the tears in his eyes blurring the scene's details but matching the light rain which had started. He hadn't cried since the time he was very young, and probably wouldn't be crying now if he hadn't had so
much brew
. But he had had the brew, and the pangs of loneliness and homesickness were very strong and painful. Never to go home
again .
. , how were you supposed to think about that
without
crying?

Valiant felt very small and very helpless and alone, almost the way he'd felt once before in his life. Back then he
had
been small and helpless, and he'd been certain things would have been different if he'd been a grown man. Well, he was a grown man now, and things certainly were different
...
so different he almost couldn't stand it. . . .