Jean Lorrah - Empress Unborn

With her ability to Read the history of an object, she was thus able to feel surrounded by her father, protected by his love and caring.

Aradia watched her in silence for a moment, and then said, “I wish I could feel him as you do, Julia.”

The simple statement brought sudden, unexpected tears to the girl’s eyes. “Read with me,” she offered, and Aradia’s mind touched hers, sharing the memories of Lenardo sitting on that lounge, writing on that tablet.

But if she could share the sweet with Aradia, Julia also shared the bitter: each time she touched something of her father’s, the most recent memories were farther away. The days were passing. No message came from either Wulfston or Lenardo, and none of Aradia’s inquiries brought an answer.

Mind to mind, neither woman knew whose throat tightened first with unshed tears. They looked into each other’s glistening eyes, and broke the rapport.

“We both miss him,” said Aradia.

“Yes,” Julia agreed.

“Julia-you know that I am trying to care for you as Lenardo would.”

“I know,” she had to admit.

“Never mind the events which followed-would Lenardo have approved of your running away from your lesson today?”

Julia looked into Aradia’s violet eyes, but her stepmother had become deliberately unReadable. So she had to focus on the question-nothing about Galerio, but about leaving an unfinished lesson.

A sad smile came to Julia’s lips. “You’re right. Father would scold me for giving up a lesson I need to learn. I’m sorry, Aradia. I won’t do it again. “

“At least you will try not to,” the other woman acknowledged. Then she also smiled. “Julia, you and I have more in common than our concern for Lenardo.”

“Our concern for the Savage Empire,” Julia responded immediately.

“True,” Aradia said with a nod, “but I meant personal concerns. At the moment, we are both having great difficulty working with nature, because nature is toying with us.”

Julia frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You are undergoing puberty. Your body is changing- and as a Reader you certainly know the body affects the mind. Your feelings are often confusing. Sometimes you don’t know what you think about something. Then on some other idea you will feel completely convinced one way one day, and the opposite way the next.”

Julia said, “Yes, I know you were my age once.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Aradia replied. “You think it doesn’t matter that I’ve been through what you are going through, because I’m not feeling it now. But you’re wrong, Julia. Being pregnant does very much the same things to my body that puberty is doing to yours.”

“Father asked me to be careful about your feelings while you’re pregnant,” said Julia.

Aradia smiled. “Your father may be the greatest Reader the world has ever known-but although he may delve into women’s minds, he will never live inside a woman’s body. You do, Julia, and so do I. There are some things you and I have in common that Lenardo will never, ever understand.”

And Julia suddenly knew why Aradia would not say a word about Galerio. She smiled back at her stepmother with a new understanding. “May I Read the baby?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Aradia. “I was going to ask you to.”

And the two women shared sensing the small life Aradia carried that was a part of Lenardo.

On the following day, Julia was in a benevolent mood toward her stepmother. When Aradia called her away from Galerio, she went at once, and found that Aradia and Master Clement were going to the hospital. She was not being arbitrarily called away from her friends; she was being called to work with the healers.

It was an adult responsibility Julia had been performing for years-and one area of her powers where not even Master Clement questioned her judgment or her competence. Eager to help her people, Julia followed the others from the forum.

At the hospital, Aradia moved from one ward to another, greeting the recovering patients who were awake. Most needed only rest and nourishment now, and would be ready to go home within the day.

The healers had been able to care for all the injuries, but today most of them were themselves in recovery sleep. Minor Adepts now joined Readers in nursing the patients.

Julia and Master Clement went to help Read the patients still in healing sleep, to be certain all was going as intended. Aradia made sure they were well involved in their work before she sought out Pyrrhus.

Pyrrhus was awake, Wicket already at his side. As Aradia approached, she saw that his friend had given Pyrrhus the gold coins, and Pyrrhus was holding them on the open palm of his left hand, staring at them.

He was in one of the small wards where severely ill or injured patients were cared for, with only three other beds. One of those beds was now empty, and the other two men were still deep in healing sleep.

As Pyrrhus should have been.

The entire right side of his face and neck were vividly red and sore: regenerated flesh that in another day under Adept care would heal unscarred to its normal condition, but today must be as painful and sensitive as if flayed.

Pyrrhus seemed to be hiding his pain successfully from Wicket, but without Reading Aradia could see it in his eyes, dilated so they appeared black rather than their natural dark brown. Although it was pleasantly cool within the stone building, his brow showed a faint sheen of perspiration. Yet even with Reading, she still could not detect his pain.

It made no sense. She might be a very weak Reader, but pain such as Pyrrhus was experiencing should have had her sending him to sleep in self-defense. She had never heard of anyone masking such strong feelings except Lords Adept, but a Lord Adept in Pyrrhus’ condition would not have the strength for such effort.

Was Pyrrhus a secret Adept grown up in the Aventine Empire, where until four years ago such powers had been anathema? No, even the greatest Lord Adept would be at the mercy of his own body’s defenses, which would put him back into healing sleep whether he willed it or not. Besides, a Lord Adept would block the pain, not suffer it while blocking transmission to Readers. There had to be some other explanation.

However he was doing it, why was he masking his pain? It meant only that no Reader called an Adept healer’s attention to him, and he suffered for no reason.

Aradia crossed the room to Pyrrhus’ side, and waited for him to look up at her. Although it was discolored, his face was back to its normal contours now, thin with sharp planes, high cheekbones, pointed chin, eyes set deep under a heavy browbone. A large, straight nose saved it from appearing pinched, but it would have been a severe, even frightening face were it not for a sensuous, beautifully sculpted mouth, now tense with suspicion as his eyes met hers.

“You remember Lady Aradia,” Wicket said brightly, too eagerly cheerful. “She’s the one healed you, Pyrrhus-and gave us the gold!”

“Why give us money?” Pyrrhus asked, his eyes like twin weapons trained on Aradia.

“Because,” she replied gently, “although there is no adequate repayment for saving a life, such a deed cannot go unrecognized and unrewarded.”

“I assure you,” Pyrrhus said acidly, “my action was unpremediatated. Simple animal reflex.”

“The reflex of a good man,” Aradia told him. “Witnesses told us what happened: when you saw the vat of oil toppling, about to spill onto a little boy, you ran in and snatched the child up. And when you could not move fast enough to escape the burning liquid, you tossed the child to Wicket, who carried him to safety.”

“At least it was a child,” Pyrrhus said, closing his hand over the coins with an audible snap. “Although of course he will grow up, won’t he?” He made it sound like a curse.