Imager

45

In between some resting and meals, it took me the rest of Jeudi and all of Vendrei, besides the time with Master Dichartyn, to organize a studio in the workroom set aside for me. It was a good thing no one expected me to begin painting immediately, because a number of items were missing, including a grinder, a mortar and pestle, certain oils and waxes, and a burner and old pots, not to mention a chair for whoever would be sitting for me. Still, Grandisyn assured me the missing items would be there by Lundi. That was fine with me.

Samedi morning, after another session with Master Dichartyn, I spent poring over the plans of the Chateau and then trying to draw each floor from memory. I had lunch, but with some thirds I knew only slightly, before returning to my study. I tried to take a nap, but all I did was lie there. So I alternated studying anatomy and the Council Chateau. By the time the four bells rang, I couldn’t concentrate on plans or texts any longer. I washed up and walked down to the main level, and then out and across the quadrangle.

Two of the seconds headed toward me eased onto an adjoining path. I recognized the second behind them, who did not avoid me. “Shannyr, how are matters with you?”

“Well, thank you. I’m getting married in two months. Master Dichartyn has approved quarters for us on the north end. They’re small, but far better than either of us ever hoped.”

“That’s wonderful!” I was truly happy for him-and them. I’d always felt that Shannyr was a good and solid person. “Would I know the lady?”

“I don’t think so. Her name is Ciermya. She works as a drafter for a naval architect.”

“You’re a fortunate man.”

“I am that.” He paused. “Sir, some of the seconds asked me to convey their thanks if I saw you.”

“Diazt and Johanyr were that hard on them?”

“Word is . . . some of them had sisters . . . and Johanyr . . . he’d threaten the sisters . . . say that he couldn’t be responsible for what happened to their brothers.”

“The masters didn’t know this?”

“No, sir. I didn’t know it, not till last week. Johanyr and Diazt threatened to hurt the sisters if their brothers said anything.”

I hadn’t realized just how much of a bastard Johanyr had been . . . and how clever, because his schemes had all rested on threats, and the implication of force, and probably minimal use of imaging. I also realized how calculating Master Dichartyn had been. He’d made sure Johanyr couldn’t image, but would live, and the way events had transpired deprived High Holder Ryel of any official recourse. That just made it more likely, despite what Master Dichartyn had said, that the dead assassin had been sent after me by Ryel . . . or more unfortunately, that I had something worse to look forward to. “I’m glad I was able to do something about it, but I didn’t know that was happening. I just didn’t trust them.” I paused. “I hope no one is trying to take their place.”

“Not that I know.” He smiled. “But I won’t be worrying about such much longer.”

“That’s true, and you shouldn’t have to.” I thought for a moment. “Poor Gherard.”

Shannyr looked surprised.

“Who else is there right now?” Shannyr had kept as close a watch as he could on those imagers who would be seconds for most of their time and life at the Collegium. Master Dichartyn had rewarded him, and probably the same would be true of Gherard.

“There is that, I’d guess, sir.”

“You have my thanks, Shannyr, and give my best to Ciermya.”

“That I will.” He gave me a broad smile and continued on.

I turned eastward and made my way to the benches on the west side of the river, where I sat down on one shaded by the late-afternoon sun to wait for Seliora, Odelia, and Kolasyn.

Before that long, three figures appeared on the bridge. Each carried a wicker basket. Seliora was attired in a maroon skirt, a cream blouse, and a shimmering gray vest. As she neared, I realized that she was actually wearing split skirts, far more practical for a picnic.

I bounded to my feet, surprised that I had . . . and that nothing hurt.

Seliora hurried to meet me, setting down the basket she had carried. She gave me a gentle but brief embrace and a dazzling smile. “You’re looking much better.”

“That’s because you’re here.”

She blushed ever so slightly.

“I told you he was gallant,” Odelia murmured to Kolasyn.

“Oh . . .” Seliora half-turned. “You’ve never met Kolasyn, have you?”

“No, I have not. I’m pleased to have the opportunity.” I inclined my head to him. “Both Odelia and Seliora have spoken well of you.”

“You have the advantage, then.” Kolasyn laughed. “They refused to say anything about you.” He was clearly older than I was, but I doubted he was quite so old as Odelia, who I suspected was a good five to six years older than Seliora. Like Odelia, he was rangy and redheaded, slightly taller than she was, and he had a short and neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were dark brown, and his smile was pleasant. I couldn’t help liking him.

Seliora picked a shaded spot, but one that had been sun-warmed earlier in the day, so that, while the grass was cool, it was not damp, given the rain earlier in the week. Then, from her basket came a blanket and an oilcloth, along with four heavy glasses and two bottles of wine-a white grisio and a red Cambrisio. From Odelia’s basket came an array of covered wooden bowls and baskets, more than I believed could ever have fit into it. Then Seliora took the basket that Kolasyn held and laid out cutlery and utensils, and four enormous napkins.

When everything was set on the cloth, Seliora looked at me and smiled. “It is here for us to eat, you know?”

Kolasyn was deft with a corkscrew, and I had a glass of the Cambrisio, as did Odelia, while he and Seliora had grisio. There was more than enough food, from crispy rice fries and almond-stuffed peppers to a honey-sour crispy baked chicken and apple and cheese strips, and a warm peach and berry cobbler.

“This is excellent.” I turned to Seliora, sitting not quite beside me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but Mother fixed most of it. I did the chicken, and Odelia did the rice fries. Mother did everything else.”

“I thank you and Odelia, and if you would convey my thanks to your mother?”

“We can do that.”

Everything was good, but the chicken and the cobbler were my favorites, and I did have a small second helping of the cobbler, but only after everyone else had eaten some.

“What are you studying now?” Seliora asked.

“More about the Council and about imaging. What about you?”

She shook her head. “Nothing changes. The people do, and the details do, but the work doesn’t. I just finished a design for the upholstery on a set of dining chairs for a High Holder near Mont D’Artewelle. It’s rather . . . bright.”

Odelia laughed. The design and colors had to be more than just bright.

“What are you working on, Kolasyn?”

“Ornamental bronze fire-screen castings, and the fire tools to go with them for a hunting lodge, as well as a number of garden bronzes.”

We talked for a while, or rather I asked about their projects, and then listened. As I did, it struck me that all of them were involved in creating things-as I once had been-and now I was being trained, in a way, to keep Solidar and others from being uncreated.

Odelia stood. “Is it all right if Kolasyn and I walk over to the river?”

“On this side, near the bridge,” I replied. They’d be safe anywhere, but I didn’t like the idea of their being too far away, although I couldn’t have said why. I turned to Seliora and lifted my glass, which held but a small remnant of wine. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“I enjoyed putting it together.”

“I’m looking forward to the time I can leave Imagisle,” I began, “but that is likely to be a good three weeks.” It was hard to believe that spring had departed and that it would be full summer by the seventh of Juyn.

Seliora nodded, but I could sense that there was more.

“What is it?”

“Father and Aunt Aegina are sending Shomyr and me with Grandmama on a trip to Kherseilles, Asseroiles, and then for a month at the beach near Pointe Neimon. The heat of the summers here is hard on Grandmama. Mama thinks that we can also visit a number of the textile mills we order from. They’re within an easy trip on the ironway from Pointe Neimon.”

“An easy trip?” Even I knew that wasn’t so. “Compared to what?”

“The trip to Asseroiles and Kherseilles.” Her smile was half wry, half mischievous.

“When are you leaving?”

She smiled faintly. “We depart next Jeudi. Father was able to arrange a compartment on the Express.”

Somehow I had the feeling that there was more to it than that. “I’m not Pharsi, but I have a feeling about this trip.”

“So does Grandmama. She says that it will be better this way.”

Better for whom?

“She also says that you’re more Pharsi than you think.”

“So are you,” I replied dryly.

For the briefest of instants, Seliora looked stunned. Not hurt, but truly surprised. “Why did you say that?”

“Because you are. You see things. How many Pharsis would have sensed enough to look out the window at Felters? You didn’t see the assassin. You felt him first. Isn’t that right?”

For a moment Seliora didn’t say anything. “When did you notice?”

I smiled, although I didn’t feel much like it. “In a way, I saw it then, but I didn’t realize or understand what I’d seen.”

“They’re not trying to separate us, Rhenn. Mama had planned to have you for dinner this week. She did most of this.” Seliora gestured at all the dishes and bowls on the oilcloth. “That’s because she likes you. As soon as we return, and you can leave Imagisle, Mama wants you to come for dinner. She said a real dinner.”

I could tell that Seliora meant every word, but still . . . “What do they-or you-see?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Is it that bad?”

She shook her head. “I’m trying to keep it from being bad. You have to understand, Rhenn. There’s a . . . it’s a curse of sorts that comes with the sight. Too often, we’ve found, if things are bad, but not too bad, and we warn someone, especially someone we care about, in their efforts to avoid what we saw might happen, they make it worse.”

I didn’t like what she said, especially about things being bad, but I could see how that could happen. If I’d been warned about Johanyr, I might well have tried to be less harsh, and I might have been the one headed to Mont D’Glace. “You didn’t know about the assassin?”

“It’s harder with you. I told you why. Mama just told me to be very careful.” She paused. “You have to understand. I wouldn’t be telling you this now if you weren’t an imager.”

“Because people think of Pharsis and imagers in the same way?”

She nodded. “People don’t like those who do things they can’t understand.”

I’d already seen that. “Does having the sight help in your business?”

“Sometimes. At times, I can see someone who’s pleased and even get a glimpse of the design. Mother and Grandmama are better at sensing what people like.”

“Between all three of you, that gives you a great advantage.”

“Only because Papa and Shomyr are fine crafters. The craft of the furniture and the design together . . .”

“Are all the most sighted Pharsis women?”

Seliora smiled and tilted her head. “Mostly, but that’s because you have to trust your feelings. Most men think too much.”

I took her hand in mine.

“That’s the one area where they don’t think enough.” But she was smiling, and her words were soft and warm.

“And women do?” I grinned at her.

“When we find what we know and feel is right, we don’t keep looking. Any woman who does hasn’t found what’s right.” Her lips quirked. “There’s always the problem that the right man won’t recognize that she’s the right woman.”

Her words shivered through me, because they made me think of Remaya, who had seen Rousel and never let go. What if Rousel hadn’t seen? Was Seliora the right woman for me? Or was I merely the right man for her? The two weren’t necessarily the same thing. I’d certainly wanted to be with her, but . . . how would I know? Really know? And was I thinking too much?

“Yes. You are thinking too much.” She laughed.

“Do you read thoughts as well?”

“Only when they’re written on your face.”

I laughed. We might be close to the same age, but in one area, at least, she was far older and wiser. So I said just that.

“It’s a good thing you know your weaknesses, Rhenn,” she replied. “You don’t have many, and that can make you most vulnerable. Too many men with few weaknesses delude themselves into believing they have none.”

“Oh . . . I have weaknesses, and you’re definitely one of them.”

We talked for a long time, not saying all that much, but enjoying the banter and the early evening, and it was well past the seventh bell when I finished helping Seliora and Odelia pack everything back into their wicker baskets and then walked to the bridge with them.

There, on the edge of the bridge, Seliora turned to me and slipped her arms around me, then lifted her head and lips. We did kiss, and it was anything but brief.

When we finally released each other, she looked up. “You will come to dinner when we come back.” Her words were anything but a question.

“I promise.”

I stood on the bridge and watched until the three of them caught a hack, and I was glad that Odelia and Kolasyn were with Seliora, competent as she was.