Cry of the Newborn (8 page)

'Is there any progress at all?' asked Andreas.

'On the face of it, I'd have to say not but we do not know what is truly developing in their minds and bodies,' said Kessian. 'Do any of you see signs of advancement?'

'We are of one mind,' said Hesther. 'We know their obvious talents but in terms of their ability to manipulate, not really.' She shrugged. 'How can we know but by demonstration?'

Kessian sagged. 'I work with them so hard, so carefully. But tell me, any of you. How on God's earth do we teach that which we do not know?'

There was a silence. Deep. Contemplative. Broken by a shout from Gorian, harsh and resonant. Kessian boiled.

'For God's sake, Shela, still those babbling children,' he bellowed, instantly regretting his words and volume. 'Please, a little peace.'

A hiatus. Silence for a moment followed by Shela's strong words. No complaint from the children. Kessian calmed himself before continuing.

Tm sorry,' he said. 'Old man, little patience.' Their words of comfort fell unheard.

'The question is, how long do we continue to try?' Willem sounded weary. Kessian knew how he felt.

'We have no choice but to continue trying until the Omniscient calls us back to the earth,' said Kessian. 'There is no written time limit after which Ascendancy cannot be reached. We have no precedent. What else can we do?'

Hesther rubbed her chin. 'Then we have to ask ourselves if our teaching methods are to blame?'

Willem laughed and spread his hands. 'How can we possibly know?' He refilled his wine goblet and passed the jug to his right. Hesther accepted it gratefully. 'I'd rather question whether we have missed something in Gorian's writings. Or indeed, whether he has made mistakes in his conclusions.'

'We must question everything we think we know,' said Kessian. 'And we must continue to adapt our teaching methods. But I have to give voice to that which we are all thinking. Are we simply wasting our time here? We are honour-bound to continue, but is it folly? Is there a future for the Ascendancy?'

This time the silence signified a shattering of illusion. A rude intrusion of reality. Kessian moved his hand to his wine goblet but it was shaking too much and he withdrew it. The mutton on his plate looked tainted, the sauce covering it sickly, the vegetable leaves curled and bitter. He looked into Genna's age-lined face. She tried to smile but it crumbled. She placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed.

'They are but young,' she said. 'Their minds are not formed. They are just children, Ardol. Give them time.'

'Every piece of evidence we have points to them being able to display genuine multiple talents by this time,' he said, his tired mind flashing with a thousand thoughts and none of them positive. 'We have been trying to tease them into it for three years now, ever since their primary talents matured.' He smiled. 'Remember the joy we felt then? How their understanding of their talents was so complete, so natural that we knew without any shadow of doubt that they were the first true Ascendants? Wonderful days.'

'And that's why you are right and we must not give up,' said Willem. 'Not ever. Ardol, your energy has sustained us all for decades and has burned so bright these last ten years it puts to shame people forty years your junior. I'm glad you have voiced your doubts and fears here tonight. And there is not one among us who hasn't felt as you feel now. But it must stop here, my very old friend. We cannot afford to let our doubts infect what we do. We have lived and worked too long to be beaten now. I speak for us all, Ardol. We stand behind you. We will bring these children to their destiny.

'And I know what you are thinking, and yes, we will do it before you return to the earth.'

Kessian felt his eyes fill with tears. He nodded his gratitude, unable to speak the words of thanks Willem deserved. These people, this Echelon, were stronger than he had ever imagined. He let their spirits lift his.

The sharp cry of a child cut through his thoughts and brought him back to himself. Kessian turned to the window. He could still see them in the courtyard, lit by candles floating in traps at the edges of the fountain pools. They were silhouettes against the light.

'Let go of him!' shouted Mirron, her voice high and trembling.

Arducius yelped in sudden pain. 'Please,' he said.

'You'll break his arm, you know you will,' said Mirron.

'Gorian, let him go right now,' ordered Shela.

'Make him say sorry,' said Gorian. 'Make him.'

‘I
will not,' said Arducius through tight lips, pain in his every word.
‘I
have nothing to be sorry for.'

'Then I will squeeze harder until you do.' Gorian's voice carried awful promise.

'Put him down right now.' Shela's tone was low and angry. Kessian dragged himself to his feet. Willem thrust his stick into his hand. Andreas was leading them out into the courtyard.

'You're breaking it, you're breaking it!' yelled Mirron. 'Stop, Gorian, stop.'

Arducius howled in agony but still Gorian clung on.

'Gorian!' thundered Kessian, standing at the window.

There was a flash, a sudden tongue of flame leaping from the candles in the fountain behind Shela. Every one was extinguished. Gorian screamed and fell backwards, clutching at his hand. Arducius ran to Shela, his right arm held across his chest, broken no doubt. Ossacer was pointing at Mirron, mumbling something incoherent. Mirron was slumped on the lawn, shivering.

Kessian stepped over the sill and hurried into the garden. Hesther had run to Mirron, Willem and Andreas to Gorian.

'What happened,' demanded Kessian. 'What happened here?' He bent and placed a hand on Ossacer's shoulder.

'Ossacer,' he said. 'What happened. Did you see?'

The boy looked up at him, face blank with his shock, his eyes huge in the half-light, blinking rapidly. His lips were quivering.

'Dear God,' he whispered. 'Genna, come and see to Ossacer. Warm blankets, hot drink. Quickly. Try and get him to talk.'

Kessian turned. Gorian was sitting up in Andreas's arms, breathing hard and staring at Mirron who was crying in Hesther's embrace. Willem was examining Gorian's hand.

'It's burned,' he said, his voice carrying a mixture of wonder and disbelief.

'She did it,' said Gorian, sniffing. 'Mirron did it. She burned me.'

He was badly frightened and when Mirron moved her head to look at him, he tried to back away into Andreas's body.

'You wouldn't let go,' sobbed Mirron. 'I only wanted you to stop. I'm sorry, Gorian.'

'You burned me,' said Gorian. 'How can that be?'

Kessian caught Willem's gaze and had to fight hard to keep the smile from his face. This was a most unfortunate incident but what it represented could not be understated. Decisions. Decisions.

'Shela, take Ossacer. Genna, take Arducius to the physician. His arm will need setting and splinting. You can direct him to the centre of the pain. Try and speak to him, find out what he saw or felt. Andreas, let's get a dressing on Gorian's wound. I have some burn salve in the cabinet by my wash bowl. All these children sleep apart from each other tonight.'

He knelt by Mirron and Hesther, feeling his old bones creaking and protesting. Someone would have to help him up.

'Now, Mirron, do you know what happened? Try and tell me what you did.'

Mirron turned her tearstained face to his. It was very pale, very scared. He smoothed her hair and she snuggled a little tighter to Hesther.

'It's all right, my little one,' he whispered. 'No one is angry with you.'

'Gorian is,' she said in a tiny cracked whisper.

Kessian smiled. 'Yes, perhaps he is. But he will forgive you. Now, can you tell me what happened?'

She sniffed and dragged a hand across her nose and mouth. 'He wouldn't let Arducius go. He knew he was hurting him but he wouldn't stop. All I wanted him to do was stop.'

'I know, Mirron, and you should always protect your brothers. Can you tell me what happened in your mind?'

She was silent for a while, trying to unravel her thoughts. Kessian felt his heart burgeoning with hope.

'The flames spoke to me,' she said eventually. 'I could feel them warm me.'

Kessian glanced back to the fountain and its smoking dead candles. It was a good ten feet away. 'And what happened next?' She frowned. 'It was bad.' 'What was?'

'I knew the flame would hurt Gorian. He isn't a Firewalker yet. But the candles were too far away and Arducius was crying. Gorian was breaking his arm.' She began to sob again and Hesther hugged her close.

'Shhh,' she said. 'Shhh. It's all right.'

'You had to stop him, didn't you?' said Kessian. Mirron managed a nod. 'And you thought that if he felt a flame, he would let go?' Another nod. 'Well, what could you do, eh?' He smiled down at her and she looked at him as if he was stupid, her face clear now, certainty in her eyes.

'I gathered all the candle flames up and threw them at him,' she said.

Kessian leaned back. It had begun.

Chapter
7

844th
cycle
of
God,
41st
day
of
Solasrise

11th
year
of
the
true
Ascendancy

Mirron awoke from a sleep plagued by nightmares to a bitter feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. Beyond her shutters she could hear the sounds of gulls. Strong, hot sunlight forced its way through the gaps in the slats. Westfallen was alive and perfect once again.

Yesterday, she would have sprung from her bed, pausing only to belt on her tunic before rushing out to glory in the day. But that was yesterday. Today her head pounded, her stomach writhed with sickness and in her mind she replayed the events of last night over and over again.

She felt as if something had been taken from her and that today she was different. She felt altered somehow and it confused her. She fought to be who she had been but it would not come. Instead, she saw the lance of flame spring from the fountain candles and burn into Gorian's wrist. She saw it all,-the wreathing of the fire and the damage it had done, in the most minute detail. She could still smell the stink of burned hair and skin and she was horribly aware of the damage the flame had done. Gorian would be scarred forever. He would never forgive her and she would never forgive herself.

There were tears on her cheeks again. They had all lied to her. Father Kessian, Willem, Hesther. Even her own mother. They had told her that the Ascendancy was something wonderful, that it was the future of everyone and would bring all closer to God. But it was not. She knew what she had done was to do with her birthright but it had not been beautiful or peaceful. It had caused harm.

The first time anyone had been able to use their talent in the way she had and someone had got hurt. And not just anyone. Gorian. The last person in the whole world she would see hurt, and she had done

it. And at the time, she had meant it too. What she had done scared her. What would happen the next time?

There shouldn't ever be a next time. She turned her head into her pillow and began to cry. There was a soft knock on her door.

'Go away!' she wailed.

She heard the handle turn and the door open. Fresh air flooded in. She turned.

‘I
told you to go a—' It was Father Kessian.
‘I
thought you were my mother.'

'And is that how you speak to your mother, my child? She loves you and only wants the very best for you. You know that, don't you?'

She shook her head. 'Why did she lie to me? Why did all of you lie?'

Kessian frowned and came into the room, pulling up her bedside chair and sitting on it. He looked very old in the half-light, his skin all folded and wrinkled. But his eyes were warm and he melted her with his smile as he always had done.

'Why do you think we lied?' he asked. He placed a hand over his heart.
‘I
would be hurt if I thought that was what I had done.'

'You told me I would be a person who was good because I am a true Ascendant. But I have burned Gorian and made him hate me forever. I don't want to be an Ascendant any more.'

Kessian leaned forward and smoothed away her tears with his thumb. 'Oh, my child, I know you must be feeling very upset this morning. None of us wish harm on those we love but sometimes our frustration leads us to hurt them anyway, through words or actions.

'You must try to think that you acted with the best thoughts in your heart. You wanted to stop Gorian hurting Arducius and you did that. But in doing so you did something you wish you hadn't. You can't change that but you must not hate yourself because it happened.'

'It won't happen again, I promise. I will never touch the fire again.'

Kessian leaned back. 'And that would sadden me more than anything else. Mirron, you are a treasured daughter of the Ascendancy. And in your action last night, something truly momentous and wonderful happened.'

‘I
hurt him!' Mirron shouted. Gorian's blistered, red wrist was large in her mind's eye again.

'And he will heal. He is strong. But you cannot turn your back on what you are. It's difficult, I know. You are so young, so innocent. But you must help us to understand how you did what you did so that we can help you control it and help your brothers make it happen. Do you not see?'

'No one should have it,' she said, confused by his tone and the sense of what he was saying. Her heart was beating fast. He couldn't really want her to try again, could he? Not after what she had done. 'It's dangerous.'

'Yes, it is,' said Kessian. 'Unless it is controlled. And when we all understand it, you and your brothers can make it work to help and to heal. To do all those things people want and need. And then you will be happy with what you are. It will happen, I promise.'

She shook her head again. 'I can't, Father Kessian. I'm scared.' She felt tears welling up again.

'I know, little one. And if I'm honest, we are all a bit scared. You gave us quite a fright.' He smiled. 'Tell you what, I've brought someone who wants to see you. Perhaps he can help you. Come in, Gorian.'

And in he came. Tall and handsome though he looked very tired. A smile was on his lips, his bright blue tunic was clean and freshly pressed, and his hair clean and shining. She wished she had hair like that. Curls were lovely. Her eyes fell to his arm and she felt herself crumple. A bandage ran from the centre of his palm all the way up to his elbow. She realised she had still been clinging to the hope that it hadn't been as bad as she remembered in her nightmares. But it was.

'Hello, Mirron, how are you feeling?'

She burst into tears. Gorian looked at Kessian who ushered him forward. He moved to the bed and put his hand on her arm. She felt the bandage against her skin. She looked at him.

'I'm sorry, Gorian,' she managed, through her sobs.

Kessian had found a handkerchief and passed it to Gorian who handed it on to her. 'Thank you,' she said.

'I know you're sorry,' said Gorian. 'I know you didn't really mean to hurt me. I know you just wanted to help Arducius. I've said sorry to him.' He dropped his gaze. 'His arm is broken.'

'You shouldn't have done that,' said Mirron, wiping at her eyes.

Gorian's head snapped back up. 'And you . . . We were both wrong last night. Arducius says he forgives me. I forgive you.'

Relief cascaded through Mirron then, as if she were standing under a fall of pure water. She felt refreshed where she had felt dirty. 'I prayed you would say that.'

'We all want to be able to do what you did . . . no, I don't mean that. I mean, to be able to use our talents. Perhaps it might help us to discover new ones. I can help you to understand. We all can. Please, Mirron. Come out and play. Father Kessian says we don't have to learn today.'

Mirron smiled and this time her tears were of happiness. He really did forgive her. She breathed deeply, the fresh air making her feel alive.

'Yes, all right. Let me get dressed. I'm hungry too.'

Gorian stood and she caught the look in his eye. It was strange, not warm and happy. Relieved, perhaps. 'I'm glad. I'll see you in the courtyard. Perhaps we can go swimming.'

'If Jen comes with us.'

'I'll go and ask her.'

He ran out of her bedroom and Mirron heard his footsteps echoing away on the marble floor of the villa. Kessian pushed himself to his feet and bent to kiss her forehead.

'Thank you, Mirron. You know you're very grown up for one so young.'

She giggled and squirmed.

'And remember, we will always be with you to help you and support you. You and your brothers are such treasures. We won't let anything happen to you.'

Mirron beamed at him. Perhaps today would be like yesterday after all.

Over the next few days, while Westfallen worked and traded under a beautiful, cloudless sky, Kessian and the Echelon began to understand the workings of the true Ascendant mind. Kessian had sent a message to Marshal Defender Vasselis the morning after the incident in the courtyard and their ruler was on his way from Cirandon even now, to see the progress for himself. He was bringing his wife and son with him, having decided to take a short holiday in the tranquillity of the village.

It added an element of pressure as Kessian had no real certainty that Mirron would be able to communicate her experience effectively or indeed repeat it. But, having consulted Gorian's papers extensively throughout that first night, he was convinced that once a breakthrough was made, as Gorian had written; "There can be no denial of the awakening ability by practitioner or witnesses. It will become as natural as the act of breathing. All that is needed is time for expression."

As it happened, not a great deal of time was needed. After the day's rest, where they had witnessed something of a transformation in Gorian's attitude to his siblings, Kessian had taken them all to the main forge just to the north of the forum. There was a little risk involved, given the numbers of traders in for the solastro high festival, but they could close themselves off effectively enough for it to be no real problem. Only Ossacer had stayed at home. His shock at what he had seen had run deeper than that of his peers and his deeply flawed constitution had let him down again. Subsequently, he was running a worrying fever.

Bryn Marr, Westfallen's blacksmith, was a burly, powerful man, moving into his middle years, with a habitual scowl. A Firewalker himself in his early years, he had fathered children of the seventh and eighth strands and was to be a father again in the eleventh.

His family roots lay deep in the Ascendancy. He was a trusted and dedicated servant but embittered that his seed had yielded nothing but fleeting talent. Even so, he and Willem had schooled Mirron as her talent had burgeoned. At ten years old, she was far beyond him. Kessian wondered what he would make of her now.

Bryn was ready for them, the Echelon and the three young Ascendants. He had cleared as much space as he could from around the stone-clad forge fire. Tools were stacked in boxes. Pieces of iron and steel work were gathered in the fenced yard. Despite its open sides, the forge was extremely hot and choked with the heady scents of charcoal and peat. Kessian was forced to admit he would need a chair, Willem and Genna likewise.

'We'd better get this done,' said Bryn testily, wiping his filthy hands on an equally filthy cloth. 'We'll be drawing a crowd before long.'

Kessian leaned forwards in his chair, hands on the pommel of the stick held under his chin. 'Mirron, are you ready to try?'

Mirron was standing next to Gorian and Arducius, both boys bandaged around their damaged arms. She looked nervous, pale around the eyes. Although she had agreed she would try to help them understand how she had performed her manipulation of the candle flames, she had shied from it. Her normally bubbly personality had been submerged beneath anxiety and a growing sense of shock. Kessian understood she felt out of control of her own actions and it had taken a full day for him to persuade her to come here; that what she had done was a natural progression. He was not at all sure she really believed them.

She looked at him and her nod of assent was tiny and frightened.

'Step forward, then, come close to the fire. After all, you know it won't hurt you.' His comment was rewarded with a brief small smile.

She stepped up to the forge. The charcoals glowed orange. Occasional flame licked over them, their smoke funnelled out of the forge and into the clear sky. Bryn held out a huge hand and she took it.

'So, my pretty student, what is it you've come to show me?' he asked, voice soft but still gruff.

She glanced again at Kessian. 'What should I do, Father?'

'Try to tease flame from the charcoals. Hold it in your hands if you can. Direct it if you feel strong enough. But do nothing that makes you feel you can't control it.'

'It all feels like that,' she said.

'You know what I mean.'

Bryn had raised his eyebrows, sceptical. His expression was shared by those of the Echelon who had not been present in the courtyard gardens.

'I'll try,' said Mirron.

'Good girl,' said Kessian. 'Take your time.'

He found his heart beating fast as Mirron faced the forge. She stood on a stool to allow her to look down on the fire, Bryn standing close behind her, protective though he needn't be. She was standing side-on to Kessian, wearing a sleeveless dress and with her hair tied back out of her eyes. She moved her hands towards the fire. Kessian lost sight of them at the lip of the forge, just as they entered the charcoals.

A calm expression settled on Mirron's face while she prepared. Genna clutched Kessian's hands on top of his stick.' Hesther was behind him, her hands on his shoulders. He ignored the sweat forming on his face and body, praying Mirron could repeat her display.

'I am one with the fire,' she said. 'I understand its strength. The charcoals are of high standard, Bryn, but your peat is spread a little thick left centre of the forge. There is a cool spot there. Let me just . . .' She moved her hands. Kessian heard the grate of charcoals. 'There. Fit for steel.'

'Thank you,' said Bryn. He smiled, a little embarrassed.

'The heat map is even,' continued Mirron.

She withdrew her hands and the mask of calm slipped. She was thinking about what she must next attempt. She scratched at her upper lip with her teeth and breathed deep. Kessian saw the shudder through her body. She swayed slightly. Bryn placed a hand on her back to steady her.

Mirron closed her eyes, snapping them open almost immediately. The fire glowed hotter, reflecting bright across the roof of the forge. Everyone took an unconscious pace away and Kessian leaned back in his chair. He watched Mirron's face intently. He saw fear flash across it followed by a curious serenity. Her eyes widened and her body relaxed.

Mirron drew her hands slowly away from the charcoals, palms downwards. The temperature rose in the forge. Tongues of flame followed her hands, wreathing them, caressing them it seemed, bathing them in a warm orange light. Kessian leaned forward again, breath stopped on his lips. The heat in him now had little to do with the forge and everything to do with the sense of wonder that swept through him. The swiftest of glances revealed a breadth of emotions among the Echelon and sheer joy on the faces of Gorian and Arducius.

The flame licked up Mirron's forearms, tracing the pathways of her nerves or veins perhaps. She appeared completely in control. She turned her palms to face each other. Flame spanned the gap of perhaps two feet between them. It steadied, thickened into a tubular shape, fed by the fire beneath it. Mirron moved her hands delicately, causing the tube to distend then curve upwards. The young Ascendant licked her lips.