“That’s right,” Master Clement agreed.
Aradia continued, “If you stop mourning the powers you have lost, and practice the powers you have gained, you have the potential to be a Lord Adept. “
“A Lord Adept!” Wicket whispered reverently. Then he sat down beside Pyrrhus, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Think what we could do with that kind of power, Pyrrhus!”
Pyrrhus turned his head to look at Wicket, and closed his eyes for a moment in a frown, shaking his head just slightly. “Like you. You said, just like you.”
“Yeah!” Wicket said brightly. “Julia told me the way I make money or dice fall right the way I want-that’s Adept power. Never knew till yesterday. But tonight I used it in the fight-just feeling the same as when I want somebody’s money pouch to fall in my hand-and my knife went right where I told it to. Good a fighter as you are now!”
Pyrrhus stared at his friend for a long moment. Then, helplessly, he smiled. The smile became a chuckle, and finally he threw his head back and laughed.
Julia woke to a touch on her forehead, between the eyes, and looked up to find Aradia sitting on her bed. “How are you feeling?” her stepmother asked.
Before she could unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth to answer, memory flooded back. She had been tricked. The people she had thought loved her hated her.
And-because of her foolishness-Galerio was dead.
“You can Read for yourself,” she replied sullenly.
“Julia,” said Aradia, “you know you did wrong, but you paid a terrible price for your mistake. I need add no further punishment. I was also wrong. It was convenient for me to treat you as if you were grown up.
But you are still a child in so many ways, and I should have allowed for that. For the moment you are relieved of all your duties except your lessons. Later, with Master Clement’s help, and your father’s as soon as he gets home, we will determine a work load appropriate for your years and experience.
“Now get up and get dressed. No lessons today, but I’m here if you want to talk, or you may go talk with Master Clement if you’d rather.”
“Why should I get up?” asked Julia. “My people hate me. Galerio is dead. Father and Wulfston have gone away, and will probably never come home. Why didn’t you just let me die?”
“Julia!” Aradia said sharply. “You have the right to grieve-and at the funeral today you will speak for your friends. But you must go on with your life, learn from your mistakes.”
Then her stepmother became gentler, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Julia’s hand. “Child, your foolishness in getting involved with gamblers-even if Capero had not discovered your scheme, it would still have resulted in punishment for you when Master Clement or I found out about it. When, not if.
“But it should not have resulted in death, Julia. The hatred you Read last night is not the attitude of Zendi’s citizens. It’s not your fault that your friends died.”
“They were trying to protect me,” Julia said wretchedly.
“Yes, they died honorably, and will be remembered so. But think, Julia. Stupid people don’t reach Capero’s level of success. He could not possibly have thought he could get away with harming you-if he had been thinking for himself. We have an enemy, probably within our borders. There may be Adepts and Readers working together against us. No one has ever succeeded in defeating our Alliance with Adept force, so someone is trying a different form of attack.”
Julia stared at her. “You mean somebody made Capero try to kill me? A Reader?”
“Or an Adept,” replied Aradia. “I’ll explain it all later, when you’re feeling better. We’re going to need every Reader alert, for we have a subtle enemy this time, Julia. At the moment we have no clues as to who he is, or where he is-and that leaves us vulnerable.”
When Aradia left, Julia got up and put on the gray mourning clothes laid out for her. She was late eating breakfast, and Cook was subdued as she dished out food. Julia ate only until she had quelled the worst of her appetite. Leaving half of what she had been served, she returned to her room until it was time to leave for the funeral.
Every time she thought of Galerio, pain lanced through her chest, and she wanted to sob in agony.
Because she could not stand to think about him, she sought something else to occupy her mind-and remembered Portia’s scrolls.
Lying down on her bed, she began to Read where she had left off the night before, about Portia’s frustrated efforts as the young Master of Masters to give Readers a greater say in the government of the Aventine Empire.
Before the funeral, Aradia and Master Clement met with Pyrrhus and Wicket. The Master of Masters had no good news. Only one person they were certain had been influenced had survived the battle at Capero’s: Octavia. She remembered absolutely nothing of the evening. The Readers determined that her memory loss was quite real.
“All our Master and Magister Readers are on alert. Perhaps now they will notice any strange Reading activity in Zendi. What I find difficult to understand is that even now, after the fact, no one remembers anything unusual. How could thirty or forty people have had commands implanted, without one Reader in this entire city noticing?”
When no one spoke, Pyrrhus shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help you on that score.”
“Don’t,” said Wicket.
Pyrrhus glared at him, but Wicket stood his ground. “You have no reason to be angry at Lady Aradia and Master Clement. They’re trying to help us-even me, when I helped get Julia into trouble.”
“You also helped get her out,” said Aradia. “And we need your further help. Pyrrhus, we do not give charity. You have proved your value, and once you have learned to use Adept power efficiently you will be an ally to be reckoned with.”
“You want to use me.”
“As Portia tried to use you? No. We don’t force people to do what we want. But we need someone to *
keep order in the city. Our Readers tend to be…
naive. Adepts have to learn to work with nature, and that includes human nature. We could ban gambling, prostitution, wine, gladiatorial contests. Do either of you know what would result?”
Wicket replied at once, “Unregulated gambling, unchecked prostitutes spreading disease, theft, drug dealing, cockfighting, dogfighting, and maybe even slave-fighting.”
“There is no slavery anymore, Wicket,” said Master Clement.
“Might as well be,” Wicket replied, “if people have to go to the likes of Capero for their pleasures.
Gambling debts where no one regulates losses can enslave someone just as effectively as Aventine law-and white lotus is even worse.”
Aradia smiled. “Pyrrhus, you do not place enough value on your companion’s wisdom.”
“Don’t tell him that,” replied Pyrrhus. “Wicket attempting to be wise is a phenomenon I prefer to be spared.”
“If you accept my offer, I’m afraid you won’t be spared it,” Aradia said, “for Wicket already understands the first rule of Adept power: it is futile to work against nature. People must have recreation, and certain types of recreation will continue, whether regulated or not. What people will do, whether we permit it or not, we permit. What we cannot permit is the step too far- dissemination of enslaving drugs, gambling debts destroying a life’s work, influencing people in power through their recreational follies.”
“Or,” added Wicket, “forcing children or animals to fight to the death for onlookers’ amusement. “
Pyrrhus studied him. “You…?”
“Yeah,” Wicket replied, ‘“when I was fourteen. I managed to win. I still don’t know how, except I was desperate. Ran away the next day. Ran for a long time after that, ‘fraid I’d be caught and made’t’do it again.”
“We do not want any children to experience such fear,” said Aradia. “Pyrrhus, you see why I want you and Wicket together as Zendi’s peace officers?”