Jean Lorrah - Empress Unborn

Master Clement searched for Readers among Lilith’s entourage. He recognized two, both frozen to death. Adepts he knew by healing sleep, their bodies warm despite the hideous cold. There were five, but no way to contact them. Besides… “Aradia?”

" I agree-it’s not merely healing sleep to survive. It’s restorative sleep, as if they’ve used their powers to the limit. In that cold, with a continued drain on their energies, they may never wake.II Wicket continued reporting to Pyrrhus, his soft voice tense with fear of things he didn’t understand.

“We must waken Lilith,” said Master Clement, and turned his attention to the nearest Watcher’s post.

There were two men in it, a Dark Moon Reader and a minor Adept.

The Adept was not certain he had the strength to keep them both warm-alive-on a five-mile walk, but the moment he learned it was to waken Lady Lilith from a life-draining trance, he said, “We’ll wake her-or die trying!”

It took them nearly two hours to reach the blue pavilions. Once they found Lilith, all that was necessary was a finger touched to her forehead.

She woke, frowned, and asked, “Who are you? Where are my people?” She tried to sit up, and fell back in exhaustion, putting a hand to her head. “Why am I so weak?”

“Master Clement sent us to wake you,” the Reader explained. “The cold…”

Even as he spoke, the cold was beginning to dissipate, the spell broken with Lilith’s waking.

But what had the spell been ?

Awkwardly, they communicated with Lilith through the Reader, then sent a message along the Watchers’

route for more of Lilith’s people to protect her, and others to care for the dead. “The attacks in Zendi stopped,” Master Clement noted, “as soon as our Readers began watching for them, our Adepts ready to counter.”

Lilith had no choice except recovery sleep, but with the cold gone it would restore instead of draining her. Once she was safe, they broke the rapport.

Losing touch with Master Clement’s powerful mind- and the incredible experience of being beyond one’s body-was always disorienting.

Aradia glanced at Wicket, who started as if a support had gone out from under him. Although they were seated, Pyrrhus put a hand under his elbow as if he had stumbled. “Your body feels cumbersome when you return.”

” I wasn’t out of my body,” Wicket said.

“If I know Clement,” Pyrrhus told him, “he made you feel as if you were.”

“Yeah,” Wicket whispered with a soft smile.

Not allowing Wicket time to spoil his experience by remembering that Pyrrhus could not share it, the ex-Reader turned to Aradia. “And you, Lady Aradia?’

She smiled. “I’ve experienced it before, with both Master Clement and my husband.” She took a deep breath, stretching, and then frowned. “But it’s never been so long. I didn’t think to ask Master Clement if it was safe for him to leave his body for that long.” She couldn’t help remembering the time they had almost lost him forever.

“It was,” the Master Reader’s mental voice told her. “I am back and quite well. The city will warm quickly now. We must do as you instructed Lilith: gather as many Readers and Adepts as possible. We know what can be done with large numbers in cooperation.”

They all knew: topple a nation.

It was three days before Lilith arrived in Zendi. The dark circles about her eyes testified that although she had perforce succumbed to recovery sleep, she had had little ordinary rest.

Aradia welcomed her, but without the relief she had anticipated in having Lilith’s strength to rely on. That evening they met with their circle-so few people to combat… what?

Julia sat in her room, Portia’s scrolls on her lap, feeling left out. Aradia no longer needed her, a Reader.

Now she had Lilith, an Adept.

But then Aradia had never wanted Julia. She wanted her own daughter, Lenardo’s daughter. When Lenardo returned, Aradia would turn him against Julia. Aradia’s child would be his heir, to rule lands Julia had risked death to conquer.

Portia was right. People were stupid, selfish, and easily led-even by poor leaders. Merely being the eldest son of the Emperor made an Emperor. Portia’s grandnephew followed his father on the throne in Tiberium, less lecherous, but no less foolish.

The previous Emperor had died in the battle for

Zendi, when the tide of victory had turned. Under the power of Drakonius, the walls of the Empire were driven back and back once more, and Portia’s advice was given less and less credence. More was demanded of Readers, while they were accorded less respect. Portia began again to rely on bribery and extortion.

She discovered an Adept secretly living within the Empire. Vortius the Gambler. There was little wonder that he was successful at his profession, and it was not difficult to persuade him to work for her rather than risk exposure. Especially when she could throw lucrative deals his way, make him feel that they were partners.

When age touched Portia, Vortius’ healing powers kept her body from deteriorating. It gave him a hold over her, and she wove her threads of power throughout Tiberium to be sure she could squeeze him from many directions, should it become necessary. She dared not be dependent. She could not need anyone.

Other people were simply to be used.

She yearned for Adept powers of her own. If she had been born with those powers instead of Reading, she would have made herself Empress by now! But the only effective powers she could command were money and influence, and she sought voraciously after both.

And then one day she discovered-

“Julia!”

Master Clement’s mental voice was angry. Julia dropped the scroll.

“Oh-I’m late,” she realized. “I’m coming, Master.”

“Bring those scrolls with you. Why did you take them from my office without permission?”

“What? But you told me to Read Portia’s scrolls.”

“I gave you a selection-I did not tell you to immerse yourself in Portia! I am sorry I ever gave you that assignment.” But his anger was gone; he accepted that she had misunderstood, and now he blamed himself.

Closing her mind to Reading, Julia smiled. She had fooled the Master of Masters. She knew he had not meant her to Read beyond the first set of scrolls, but once introduced to Portia’s inner feelings, Julia had felt compelled to know everything about her.

She had learned much. Now she could protect herself from Aradia, from Aradia’s child, and if necessary from Lenardo as well. She tieiup the small bundle of scrolls, and went to join Zendi’s inner circle.

What a feeble group they were. Master Clement, growing old, so trusting that she could fool him without even trying. Aradia, pregnant and half mad. Lilith, once proud and strong, now frightened of the force that had used her own powers against her. Decius, crippled in body by Drakonius and in mind by Master Clement’s naive teaching. Wicket, half clown, half simpleton, unable to stand without someone to lean upon-and Pyrrhus, Wicket’s crutch. Julia understood Pyrrhus least of all. When he first came to Zendi he had seemed strong, using his powers to fight and kill. Now he was no better than the rest-weaker, for he actually allowed himself to be used by Readers, by Wicket of all people.

Julia hid her contempt, handing the scrolls meekly to Master Clement as she took her place with a sweet smile.

Lilith began, unable to conceal her fear. “Why didn’t you warn me?” she demanded. “You left me helpless!”

“We did not know” Master Clement explained. “How could we anticipate a Lady Adept’s being used that way? We told you everything that had happened here.”