Imager

42

Well before third glass on Solayi afternoon, I was sitting waiting on the second graystone bench-the one shaded by the oak that was finally leafing out-near the Imagisle side of the Bridge of Hopes. I’d brought the science text, because Master Dichartyn had not been pleased with my lack of visualization of anatomy when we had met on Vendrei. While he had been slightly happier with my performance on Samedi morning, he’d asked more questions, and then pointedly suggested that I finish my essay for Master Jhulian in order to have my mind clear to finish the essay I owed him.

On Solayi morning, I had finished a draft of the essay on the Juristic Code’s applicability to imagers. Because the Code recognized the discretion granted to civic patrollers, anyone actually charged was presumed guilty. Since patrollers tended to defer to imagers, the Code provided for a review hearing on any matter involving an imager-provided the Council approved. That also explained why Master Jhulian and Master Dichartyn had emphasized that imagers should never be even remotely associated with the appearance of violence and murders. Such a petition to the Council, even if rejected, might well raise issues better left unexamined.

As I could feel the time nearing third glass, I finally closed the science text, because I was not reading it. My eyes were merely skipping over the page in front of me and then glancing toward the nearer end of the bridge. Just moments after the third bell rang, two figures came into view, walking casually, but not dawdling, along the south side of the bridge, Seliora and a taller figure-Odelia. Seliora wore a long flowing dress, a pale green, with a cream silk jacket. Odelia was in a brighter green.

I stood and stepped toward them.

Odelia smiled but dropped back to let her cousin move toward me alone. Seliora stepped forward and took my hands. She smiled, an expression of both concern and warmth. “You look better than the last time I saw you.”

“I feel much better.”

She inclined her head toward the shaded bench I had just left. “You’re still pale, and you need to sit down.”

I didn’t argue, and we sat down in the shade. Odelia took the other bench, close enough to watch, but far enough not to hear, although I doubted she would have passed on anything.

“I’m glad you came.” I couldn’t help smiling at her.

“Should you be up?”

“Master Draffyd said that gentle movement would help, but I’m not supposed to lift anything heavy with my left arm or hand.”

“I told Mother where you were shot,” Seliora said slowly. “She said most people would have died right there.”

“I almost did. If you hadn’t gotten me to the infirmary that quickly, I would have.”

She looked directly at me. “You’re fated not to die young. That is what Mama said.” Then she smiled. “She told me to tell you that’s from the Pharsi side.”

I frowned. “I thought that was your father’s side.”

Seliora flushed. “Actually . . . there’s full Pharsi on both sides.”

I laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me. Can you tell fortunes as well?” I wished I hadn’t asked the question, because, belatedly, I remembered that she’d already told me that she’d seen a vision of me in gray before I’d become an imager.

“I do better with people I don’t know.”

“People you don’t know or people you’re not . . . close to?” I hesitated over the words.

“Those I don’t care about. When you care, it’s difficult to separate what you want to see from what you do see.”

I wanted to put my arms around her. I didn’t. “Your parents weren’t upset?”

“Why would they be upset?”

“Because you were with someone who got shot. That could be upsetting.”

“Papa said he was happy you were going to be well and that . . .” She shook her head.

“What?” I spoke before I realized she had that glint in her eye.

“He didn’t want his daughter to be interested in a man who wasn’t worth shooting. Someone shot him when he was courting Mama. It was only in the arm, and it didn’t even break a bone.”

“Did he ever say what happened to the man?”

Seliora shook her head. “He did say that the fellow wouldn’t bother anyone again.”

“I thought it might have been something like that. I don’t think I’ll cross your father.”

“Be nice to me, and he won’t say a word.” She grinned. “But I think Grandmama had more to do with it. She didn’t like anyone interfering with her family. She still doesn’t.”

“Did you get the pistol from her?”

That brought a sheepish look to her face. “I bought it when I was fifteen. Grandmama knew before I took three steps into the house. She spent every day for a month teaching me to use it. She told me that you never bought anything you couldn’t use or didn’t learn to use.”

“I didn’t meet her,” I said.

“She has a bad leg. She also told me that she didn’t want to meet anyone I thought much of in a crowd, and the family was definitely a crowd.” There was the faintest pause. “She knows about you, though.”

“Oh?” I wasn’t certain I liked that.

“I’ve told her. She said that if you were talented and honest, you’d never amount to anything as a portraiturist.”

Even as I winced, I had to admit that the grandmother I’d never met was right. “Does that apply to furniture and designs?”

“Absolutely! We’re talented, but we’re not totally honest. We cheat anyone who tries to cheat us . . . and we’re better at it.”

That also surprised me not in the least.

“Will you be able to come to dinner before long?”

“I want to, very much, but Master Dichartyn has confined me to Imagisle until I’m totally well and better able to take care of myself. That could be almost a month.” I smiled, if faintly. “He also said that I’m to listen to you.”

The last words did bring the faintest hint of that mischievous smile I liked so much.

“I’m glad they think I’m of worth to you.”

“Master Draffyd said I owe my life to you, but I already knew that.” I paused, then added, “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather owe it to.”

“Rhenn . . . I know what you’re doing must be dangerous. Please don’t take risks you don’t have to take.”

“That’s what they’re trying to teach me.” Among other things.

“Then listen to them.”

I smiled broadly at her. “Shall I tell Master Dichartyn you ordered me to listen to him.”

“If it pleases you.” The words were not quite coy, but there was a hint of chill.

“I’m sorry. I was teasing. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Teasing is fair,” she replied. “Condescension is not.”

I almost said I hadn’t been condescending, then thought better. “That’s fair, but I probably don’t recognize it all the time when I’m being condescending. If condescension isn’t fair, then you have to accept my apologies for inadvertent condescension.” I offered a mournful face.

Either the expression or the words brought a laugh, and I laughed with her, if very gently. Too many things hurt too much for enthusiastic laughter.

“Have you seen Rogaris or any of the others?”

“No. There’s no reason to, and we’ve been busy. I had to come up with an entire new design for High Holder Esquivyl. He decided that the rendition of the family crest that he approved two weeks ago wasn’t what he wanted after all. Or his new child bride decided that.”

“Did you meet her?”

“She simpers and bats her eyelashes, but she has more brains in the little finger she beckons to him with than he has in his skull.”

“Have you ever met High Holder Ryel?”

Seliora frowned, thinking. “No, but you never know. Why?”

“Just don’t mention my name. That’s all. His son attacked me.”

“What did you do?”

“I defended myself. Actually, there were two of them. They were both imagers who were senior to me. I partly blinded Johanyr-he’s Ryel’s son, and he was transferred to Mont D’Image to recover. He won’t be allowed to return to L’Excelsis. But I can’t imagine High Holder Ryel would look upon anyone connected to me in any way favorably.”

“Did the senior imagers try to stop them?”

“They did, but I didn’t know that they were trying to protect me. I didn’t know they were even around, and when it looked like Johanyr really meant to harm me, I tried to disable him. I disabled him a bit too much. That’s another reason why I can’t leave Imagisle for a while. I need to learn better control of what I do.”

“It isn’t just that, is it?”

I’d known that Seliora was perceptive, but her perception could make it hard for me. “No. The masters think that someone is hiring assassins to kill me, and they don’t want me to leave until I’m fully recovered and I’ve learned some more techniques.”

“High Holder Ryel?”

“They don’t know, and one doesn’t charge High Holders without a great deal of proof.”

Seliora nodded. “I won’t tell Papa and Mama. I’ll just tell them that all imagers run the risk of being targets at times . . . especially the good ones.”

“I’m just a junior imager third.”

“That’s like a journeyman imager, isn’t it?”

I supposed it was. I nodded.

“That makes you good. How many imagers become journeymen in less than half a year?”

Things had happened so fast I hadn’t considered that. “I don’t know, but you’re probably right. I just didn’t think of it that way.”

“You haven’t told your parents, either, have you?”

“No. I won’t say a thing unless I become a master.”

“You’re as proud as any Pharsi, Rhenn.” Her smile was warm, sympathetic, and sad, all at once. “There must be some of that blood somewhere in your background.”

I could only shrug . . . slightly, and I still had to hide a wince.

She took my hands again. “I can’t stay long. Not today. We’re having a birthday dinner for Grandmama.” Another smile followed. “Could we have a picnic here next Samedi?”

“Are you sure you want to go to that trouble?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. You wouldn’t mind if Odelia brought Kolasyn, would you?”

“I can’t see that as a problem. I am allowed visitors when I’m free, and there’s no restriction, except common sense, I suppose.”

“Half past fourth bell?”

“I’ll be here.”

“So will I.” She leaned forward and brushed my cheek with her lips, squeezing my hands.

After a moment, we stood. Then we walked toward Odelia, who rose.

When they headed toward the bridge, I just sat down on the bench and watched the two of them walk back across the bridge to L’Excelsis, a reminder of sorts that the city I’d grown up in was now a foreign land, at least in some ways.