Convergence by Convergence Page B

able to stay merged with his magic?
    A spurt of falling earth broke through the shield he had over himself, adding itself to the mud already smeared on his face. Lorand wiped at it with the back of his hand, making the mess worse rather than better, wishing he could be impatient with himself over the brief lapse. But what he felt now was more fear than impatience, since every childhood horror story he'd ever heard was suddenly coming back to him. All those warnings against trying to do more with the power than you were naturally able to . . . How naughty children who didn't listen turned themselves into mindless vegetables that people had to put down like the poor, maimed animals they were . . .
    If Lorand had had the strength he would have shuddered, knowing as he did that all those stories hadn't been exaggerations on the part of adults trying to keep their children manageable. He could still remember that little girl at school, when he'd been nine or ten and she'd been about the same. Her talent had been Water magic, she'd been incredibly strong for her age, and the indulgence of her parents had made her more arrogant than anyone should have been allowed to be.
    Lorand carefully filtered more of the dust out of the air around him, needing to take a deep breath without tiny pieces of grit filling his mouth and lungs. That little girl had ignored the words of caution from their teachers, and had constantly searched for new ways to show how good she was. When spring came that year with its thunderstorms, the little girl had been delighted. She decided to gentle a thunderstorm the way Middle practitioners sometimes did, not realizing it took more than one Middle and more than Water magic. Lorand could still see her quietly slipping out of the schoolroom with a triumphant smile on her face . . .
    Her screams had brought everyone running outside, but by then it was already too late for the girl. Afterward their teachers had explained that she'd summoned enough power to handle the thunderstorm, but hadn't herself been able to handle that much power. It had filled her beyond bursting, raging through her when her control slipped. The teachers had quickly herded the other children back inside the school building, but not before Lorand had seen the girl.
    She'd been sitting slumped on the ground, the most horrible blankness and slackness in her face, a still-breathing body with no one at home any longer. No one home now, and never, ever again. . . .
    Lorand did shudder then, and then another spurt of earth into his face brought him a frightening awareness. The soil was now coming faster and harder out of the openings, almost as if it meant to batter down his stairway along with himself. Now it would be more difficult to shield everything, not to mention harder to slow the rain of earth in order to work with it.
    Lorand felt the aching weariness in both his body and his mind, at the same time becoming too aware of the increasing strength of his magic. He would need that much strength and more to do what had to be done, but would he be able to handle it? A sickening picture of that little girl's face rose up before him, bringing with it a terrible chill. He'd have to find a way to handle the magic, but what if he failed and ended up the same way? How was he supposed to do what was necessary with that hanging over him? How . ..?
     
    Seven
    Jowi waited for the guard to come to the door after the coach had stopped, and then let the man help her to the ground. The neighborhood was odd, not the middle-of-town or residential area she'd been expecting the coach to stop in. A very large stone wall stood directly ahead with guardsmen in front of the openings, and it was even possible to see other coaches a short distance away to either side of her own . The coach to her right disgorged two men who were, by their bucolic clothing, obviously from the country, and neither one even glanced in her direction. They were too busy staring at the massive