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power, she had far more influence over what happened in the Aventine Empire
than the Emperor.
"You probably know that a few Adepts survived inside the Aventine Empire, even
when it was death to be discovered. Portia had at least one under her control,
and there may have been more. As she grew older she acquired more and more
power. But the Master of Masters isn't supposed to have that kind of power, so
she had to cover up even more. That meant getting rid of Readers who found
out.
"Her favorite method for putting such Readers where they could not harm her
was what she originally planned for Pyrrhus: rig tests so that they failed,
and then put them on the Path of the Dark Moon. That meant marrying them off
to other failed Readers but the ceremonial wine was drugged with a derivative
of white lotus."
"The dream drug?" Wicket shuddered. "Yes Pyrrhus said they were going to use
it on him. No wonder
he ran away. That stuff is worse than poison."
"Yes but they didn't use the addictive part. It was an extract that destroyed
the will and allowed the
Readers present at the marriage to mold the minds of the bride and groom. Back
when they failed only real Dark Moon Readers, who honestly didn't have the
ability to reach the upper ranks, the drug was intended as a kindness, to make
them fall in love with one another. But when Portia and the Council of
Masters were failing Magisters and even Masters, they also used the drug to
reduce their powers."
"Then why ?"
"What was done to Pyrrhus? Even with reduced powers, a Reader is a Reader.
Wicket, I'm telling you what facts we know, but all the people who can explain
why are dead."
"I'm glad Pyrrhus had a hand in killing Portia," said Wicket.
"I'm glad I did, too," Julia agreed.
They parted then, Wicket to the bathhouse, Julia to tell Aradia what she had
learned, and then take her daily lesson with Master Clement. She found him in
his study, reading scrolls brought from Portia's
Academy in Tiberium.
"Read with me, Julia," he instructed. He meant the way he was reading by
Reading.
The scrolls remained in their racks, while Master Clement scanned through the
writing on them in search of any reference to Pyrrhus. It was much faster than
lifting each one down, unrolling it, and scanning the pages by eye.
But Master Clement had been at it all morning, and had not found what he was
looking for.
"Would Portia write down such a terrible thing?" Julia asked.
"Perhaps not," Master Clement agreed. "But I have to search. I have to know "
 if there are others," Julia completed the thought. "If there are, I doubt
that they're alive. I think I would kill myself if it happened to me."
"Julia!" exclaimed the Master of Masters. "You must not think such a thing.
Pyrrhus was right to salvage what he could of his life. Child, I have seen
Readers lose their powers before."
"What?' She was horrified.
"It is rare, but it can happen from a head injury, a disease, or an apoplexy,
if it damages that area of the brain. Thus Portia knew exactly which nerves
she could destroy, and leave Pyrrhus otherwise undamaged. With the help of
Adept Healers," he added, "we can now heal such injuries when they come from
natural causes. Nature does not burn out an entire section of nervous tissue."
They returned to Portia's many years of records, which had never been placed
in proper order after transport to Zendi. After the earthquake that had
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literally toppled the Aventine Empire, the scrolls had been plucked from the
shambles, brought here, and left until the day someone would have the time to
catalogue them. So far, no one had. They found records from forty years ago
next to records from the last days of Portia's tenure, her personal
commentaries on her students beside technical studies of
Reading techniques.
Suddenly Master Clement plucked an old, yellowed scroll from the rack and
handed it to Julia. "Read
that."
She held it, feeling in its faded, dusty contours the keen excitement of a
young woman, enthusiastic, idealistic, proud of her accomplishments, and eager
to use her newly acquired power for good.
"Portia?" Julia asked incredulously. It was unrecognizable as the evil old
woman Julia had known.
"Portia as I first knew her, when I was just testing for the rank of Magister.
Take that one with you, Julia;
Read it at your leisure. Perhaps we can trace how the fine young woman who
became the youngest
Master of Masters in all our history turned into a manipulative, power-mad
woman capable of crippling
Readers to cover her corruption."
When Julia met Galerio and his friends at noon, she did not really have the
horse market on her mind.
She kept her promise, however, and the group of young people left Zendi by
Southgate, walking toward the large open area set aside for fairs and
celebrations, and the horse market once each month.
It had turned into a lovely sunny day, the ground just damp enough to keep the
dust down, the air just cool enough to be pleasant. Dilys and Piccolo never
got as far as the market; holding hands, they wandered off the road toward a
small woodland.
When they reached the market, Giorgio headed straight for the food vendors,
while Blanche and Diana went off toward the booths where trinkets were sold to
bored wives, daughters, and children with no interest in the horses. That left
Mosca and Antonius with Julia and Galerio, drifting through the crowds to
examine the horses in the various roped-off areas.
They passed straight by the young colts and heavy draft animals, and went on
to where riding horses were being shown.
Galerio gravitated toward a large ring displaying five magnificent animals,
sleek and slender, so built for speed that they almost appeared to be running
when they were standing still.
Julia also admired them, but when Galerio asked, "What would a horse like that
cost?" she was amazed to Read that he truly wanted one.
"Those are racing horses," she said. "Galerio, you can't afford one of those,
and if you could it's not the kind of horse you need." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]