L. Modesitt - Imager

“And there’s this.” She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me.

I had no trouble responding. She had a very definite point there, and it went beyond that physical intensity. Not that I didn’t very much enjoy the physical.

Once we were seated in the two chairs flanking the small circular table, Seliora turned to face me. “I had Bhenyt see if he could find the bullets this morning, as soon as it was light.”

“Did he?”

She handed me a small felt bag across the table. “Grandmama says that they’re from a sniper’s rifle, but that the bullets are longer and heavier.”

“Is there anything she doesn’t know?” The bag felt heavier than I would have thought, and I untied it and eased the bullets out. Both were flattened, at an angle, and they were far longer and heavier than those that had been fired when I’d been attacked with the flower seller. After a moment, I replaced them in the bag and slipped it into my inside waistcoat pocket.

“Grandmama believes that you die when you stop learning. She has no wish to meet death any sooner than necessary.”

“Do you follow her example?”

“I wouldn’t dare not to.” That mischievous smile reappeared momentarily.

“Do you know anything more about Madame D’Shendael?”

Seliora shook her head. “Why?”

“I have the feeling that somehow, she’s involved in why people are targeting me, but I can’t seem to discover any reason why.” I went on to explain what I’d deduced. Master Dichartyn might not care for my revealing that to her, but I had the feeling that Seliora and her family were more than capable of holding secrets-and I needed all the help I could get, because I didn’t see much of it coming from the Collegium at the moment.

“Grandmama could find out about her parents through Ailphens.”

“Ailphens?”

“He’s the advocate for NordEste. Since the mother was executed there will be a record somewhere.”

Her matter-of-fact response underscored how little I knew about certain practical aspects of life.

“Rhenn . . .” Her voice was gentle.

“What?”

“We all have different talents. I never could have figured out that she was Grisarius’s daughter. Our talents complement each other.”

“You’re also kind and diplomatic.”

“Not to her family.” Betara stood in the doorway to the terrace. “If she wants, she can peel varnish off finished wood-and hide-without ever raising her voice.” She moved forward with the small tray that she carried, noiselessly.

“Mother . . .” Seliora was smiling.

“I did take the liberty of assuming you would still like Sanietra, along with the summer almond biscuits and the apple slices.” The small platter with the dainties and fruit went in the middle of the front edge of the table, and a glass of Sanietra, with a napkin, beside each of us.

“That was a very good assumption,” I replied with a smile.

“Grandmama was very pleased to meet you.” Betara smiled, and I could see from where Seliora had gotten the mischievous expression. “I’ll let Seliora fill you in. Enjoy yourselves. It is a beautiful afternoon.” With a nod, she slipped away.

I lifted the tall narrow goblet. “To you and a beautiful afternoon.”

She blushed, ever so slightly, as she lifted her own goblet. “To you.”

I hadn’t realized how dry my throat was until the Sanietra cooled and moistened it. “Very good . . . and timely. You and your mother do have a sense that way.” As well as in other ways.

“I’m still learning.”

“Your mother was offering a reminder.”

“Mother can be very direct.”

“And you’d prefer to be a little less so.”

Seliora nodded. “But there’s no help for it. It’s as much about the family as about you. Grandmama feels everyone should either contribute to the family-or strike out on their own.”

“She doesn’t like the idea of the family supporting those who don’t contribute at least their share.”

“Or as much as they can, once they’re grown.” I had no idea where her words were leading.

“Contribution isn’t just how one can add to the golds. We’re not badly off that way.”

I gestured to the building that surrounded us. “I can see. But you don’t want men to know that. Wasn’t that why you met me at the hall . . . and why Odelia does as well?”

She nodded. “Also, flaunting wealth is a form of Naming.”

I could definitely see that.

“You must have guessed that Grandmama came out of the taudis. She’s always said that she’s done what she had to, but that she didn’t have to like it . . . only do it well. To this day, she won’t let anyone else talk to her oldest . . . acquaintances.”

“That’s all you have to say, I think.”

Seliora raised her eyebrows. “I can finish it, but I’d be interested in how close you are.”

“I’ll try to put it in . . . general terms.” I took another swallow of Sanietra. “Your grandmother wants the best for her family, and, frankly, I think you’re her favorite. She also knows that it’s very difficult to retain golds without various forms of power. One form is being able to provide a good or a service that is highly valued, and that is something that she and your mother and father have established with NordEste Design. I’d wager that your father is the best furniture crafter in L’Excelsis, and possibly was the very best without a guild patron or master. By emphasizing furniture with specialized textile upholstery, and with her taudis contacts, they created something unique.”

Seliora nodded again. “Is that all?”

“Do you want me to go on?”

“No, but it’s necessary. Just remember what I said to you last night . . . and that I asked you to dance before you became an imager.”

Last night? I almost nodded somberly as I recalled her words.

“In a very general sense, power can come from two sources. One is the ability to apply force without using the established resources of a society. The other is the ability to use force sanctioned by society. Your grandmother retains the first ability. She’s kept her children from that source, at least partly. But she’s no longer young.” I looked to Seliora, wondering if I’d said enough or too much.

Her face was a pleasant mask.

“Grandmama has been concerned for some time what will happen to the family, and her hope is that you-and whoever you choose-will save it.” I laughed, ruefully. “That’s quite a burden to put on you . . . or Odelia.”

“You didn’t mention Shomyr.”

“He’s too kind, I would judge, and Mehtyr’s too young, and L’Excelsis still respects men in power, at least in officially sanctioned positions. There’s only one high woman maitre in the Collegium, and look at the attacks Madame D’Shendael has undergone.”

“You knew this?” Her voice was steady, but I could sense . . . something . . . behind it.

“Not until you said what you did about your grandmama. Then, all the pieces fit. I think I was feeling some of it, but I hadn’t thought about it in that way before. I was just interested in you, even from that night last Fevier when you asked me to dance . . .”

I looked to Seliora, seeing the brightness of unshed tears. “To fall in love, and then to find that everyone looks to you . . . you’re braver than I might be.” I stood and eased around the table, drawing her to her feet and putting my arms around her.

For a long moment, she was as stiff as if she had been carved from ancient oak.

Then she clung to me, shuddering silently. Finally, she lifted her head and murmured softly, “I didn’t want that. I wanted you. I want you.”

“You and your grandmama are alike in one way,” I said quietly, still holding her.