Imager’s Intrigue

26

The next time I woke up was with gray walls around me, but my eyes wouldn’t focus, and I couldn’t talk. Someone fed me something soft, and I drank something, and the blackness rose up again. That sort of thing must have happened for a while, because I thought I saw people around, but nothing made much sense.

Then, I finally swam out of that hazy blackness and could actually see, and feed myself, although my entire body remained a mass of soreness and aches. One of the obdurate attendants watched closely, then took the empty tray away. That I’d been watched by an ob all the time suggested I’d been in a bad way.

I took stock of my physical situation. From what I could see, there were purplish-yellow bruises on my arms and my upper chest, and probably on my thighs, from the way they felt. How had all that happened? I’d held my shields and even angled and slipped them the way Maitre Dyana had drilled into me years earlier. Or had it been when I’d imaged back the shells or bombs or what ever had been aimed at the Collegium?

Draffyd appeared, and his eyes were ringed with black. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore and aching all over,” I admitted. “But I can see without everything blurring.”

“Your eyes were so bloodshot that they were more red than white. You’re fortunate to be alive.” He paused. “You were imaging behind shields, weren’t you?”

“Ah…not exactly. I was imaging beyond them.”

His eyes widened, but he only nodded. “Maitre Dyana needs to see you, but I’ve asked her to be brief. You aren’t ready to do much right now.”

“Seliora?”

“She and Diestrya have been staying in one of the empty rooms here. You can see her after Maitre Dyana.”

Draffyd hadn’t been gone more than a tenth of a glass before Maitre Dyana walked in-without one of her colored scarves.

She looked tired, but her words were as crisp and cutting as ever. “Some finesse would have made it easier on you, Rhenn, not that finesse comes that easily in the middle of the night when someone is dropping shells on you and your family.”

I just looked at her. “The shields and the finesse were the easy part. Imaging those shells back to their firing points was what hurt.”

For the only time in the seven years I’d known her, Maitre Dyana didn’t seem to have words. She studied me. Finally, she said, “From all the ice on the river, I wondered about that. How did you manage it?”

“I don’t know what happened, but, yes, I imaged some shells, two, I think, back to their starting point.”

“You never saw them.”

“I can do that. I’ve always been able to. I’ve done it with bullets before. I never tried it with anything that big. Just ask Draffyd or…What happened to Master Dichartyn?”

“Unlike you or me, he had no warning. The first shells hit his dwelling, and then Maitre Poincaryt’s. Dichartyn still managed to shield Aelys and the children.”

Dichartyn? Dead? How…? I swallowed. “Maitre Poincaryt?” I paused. “Then, you’re the Maitre of the Collegium?”

“Apparently, you should be. No one else can image ten-stone shells back a half mille and explode a floating battery. That’s the sort of thing that only Maitre D’Images can do, and not all of them.” The tired irony vanished from her voice “No one could figure out why the barges that held the bombards would suddenly explode after a handful of rounds. There was enough powder and shells to reduce the entire Collegium to rubble.”

“I was angry,” I admitted. “I really didn’t think.”

“It wasn’t the best for you that you reacted, but it doubtless saved most of the Collegium…Maitre.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know enough. I don’t even know enough to handle what Master Dichartyn did. Let them think you did it. You’ll need that leverage anyway.”

Dyana actually smiled, if but for a moment. “You won’t escape that destiny, Rhenn. You might be able to postpone it…but not escape it.” Her eyes took in my arms and chest. “It’s still a wonder you’re alive.”

“If any other masters need to know, tell them that it took both of us…or better yet, imply that without saying it.”

“You’ll still have to become a Maitre D’Esprit.”

“Can’t Schorzat take on…”

“No. He knows it. Dichartyn and he already discussed it. His shields won’t take the kind of beating yours can. Frankly, I’m not certain anyone else’s can.”

“Were they using the stolen bombards?”

“We think so. We really don’t have the time or the resources to dredge the Aluse to find out. They were set up on barges.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if the heavier barges I’d seen in the past weeks had carried the bombards upriver. There really wasn’t any point in saying anything about that. What was done was done, and the Collegium-or the river force of the Civic Patrol-couldn’t have checked every barge on the river for weeks on end.

“What else happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“It was all part of a plan, wasn’t it? The stronger elveweed, the Ferran or Stakanaran funding of explosions and violence. I’d guess that the Ferrans have invaded Jariola by now…”

“Is this a guess on your part? Did you-”

“I told Master Dichartyn that was what I thought. We’ve lost two good captains in the Civic Patrol, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the subcommander weren’t involved as well, not that I could prove anything. Oh…and if you haven’t already, you might check with a Sea-Marshal Geuffryt. He has some knowledge about payments to Caartyl and Cydarth. Master Dichartyn probably told Maitre Poincaryt about all that, but I left it to them to tell you, and since I only told some of it to Dichartyn on Samedi morning….” I left the sentence uncompleted, feeling slightly tired just from speaking.

“For someone who almost died, you’re sounding suspiciously like Dichartyn. And, no, they didn’t get around to telling me all of that. What else is there?”

“Did Ferrum invade-” I had to know that.

“Yes…we just got word this morning. It doesn’t look good for the Jariolans.”

“The Council…what have they done?”

“Suyrien announced, on behalf of the Council, that the Northern Fleet would blockade all Ferran ports until the Ferran forces returned to their own territory and would regard any attempt to break the blockade as hostile action against Solidar. The Council also declared that the attack on Imagisle was an act of war.” Her voice turned wry. “They didn’t name who committed the act.”

“So we’re not technically at war?”

“Not yet. We may never be. The Council hates to do that because it gives more power to the Chief Councilor.”

“What about Otelyrn?”

She gave me a sidelong look, then said, “The Stakanarans have invaded the southernmost province of Tiempre, where the gold and diamond mines are. The Tiemprans are appealing for aid. They likely won’t get it…”

“Is Suyrien all right?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because he and Artois are obvious targets. I don’t know more than that.”

“There’s one other thing. You remember Johanyr?”

“Of course.” How could I have forgotten?

“He disappeared from Mont D’Glace. Several weeks ago.”

“You’d better let his sister know.” I had the feeling that his disappearance just might be linked to Iryela’s missing golds, even if I had no way to explain it.

“I already have.”

There were other things I should have asked, but I was getting tired and sleepy, despite wanting to know more…and even with all the aches and sorenesses.

Dyana stepped back. “Thank you. All that will be of great assistance.”

As soon as she left, Seliora and Diestrya were in the gray-walled chamber.

Seliora set Diestrya next to the bed, then bent over and kissed my cheek. The closeness of her, despite how everything hurt, felt so reassuring. Tears were seeping from her eyes. “I wasn’t certain…no one was sure…”

“I’ll be all right.” Now…or at least in time.

“Dada!”

“Your father hurts all over, sweetheart. Don’t touch him.”

“You’re all right?” I managed.

“We’re both fine.” She paused.

“What?”

“There have been fires and explosions all over the city.”

I nodded, if only slightly. “…not surprised…”

“Your parents are all right. So is my family, and they all know we’re safe. I sent courier messages saying you were recovering from working hard after the explosions on Imagisle.”

“Good…wouldn’t want them…to worry.”

“They had the memorial services for Maitre Dichartyn and Maitre Poincaryt and Madame Poincaryt last night.”

“I…would have…should have…been there…”

“Isola spoke so well. You would have liked what she and Maitre Dyana said.”

“…Always…speaks…well…” I was having trouble keeping my eyes open.

Seliora took my hand and held it while the hazy blackness crept up over me.