Chapter Eleven

Katanes, Baron's Palace

"Karani, wake up!"

Karani groaned and pulled her covers farther up over her head. Arta had been surprised to find her foster-sister already in bed and asleep – it wasn't that late, even if she'd spent some time by herself after her conversation with the Professor, trying to process what he'd told her. She still didn't think it would have been enough time for Karani to change into her sleeping robe, throw herself in bed, and actually manage to fall asleep – but then, considering one of Karani's eyes was open a crack, perhaps she wasn't as fully asleep as she was pretending. Arta ought to have known better than to underestimate the lengths her foster-sister was willing to go to in order to avoid work she didn't want to do.

"Karani!" she said again, louder this time, and gave her sister a hard shove on the shoulders. Now Karani's eyes were open, and she didn't look to be very happy about it.

"Go away, Arta," she said. "I'm tired. Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it in the morning."

Arta crossed her arms and regarded her sister flatly. "Karani, it's barely even dark. Don't tell me that the Professor's lesson exhausted you that badly; I've seen you solve math problems in about a minute when they took me ten. Playing dumb may work on other people, but you'll never fool me."

"Math makes sense," Karani groused. "History, as far as I can tell, is mostly a long parade of stupid people doing stupid things for stupid reasons. You really think that's not tiring?"

Arta shook her head. "You know, you're always talking about how you're going to be baroness someday – what do you think baronesses do, spend all day dueling for sport when they're not posing glamorously for their adoring public? History and politics and economics are important!"

"Well, then, when I'm baroness I'm going to hire people to handle all the boring parts. The benefits of power, little sister." Karani sat up and stretched. "Well, congratulates, you actually managed to get me awake. So, is there any particular reason you came charging into my bedroom and pulling me away from my well-deserved rest?"

She scooted over on her bed and gestured for Arta to sit down beside her; she did so. Arta looked down at her hands for a long moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain what she'd just learned. Finally, she sighed and said, "After you left, I had a… conversation… with the Professor."

"Lord, it wasn't an in-depth discussion of the Empire's economy or Artax the Founder's daily shopping lists, was it?" Karani asked in mock horror. "I think I got enough of that already!"

"No, that's not what it was about," Arta said. "Karani, you know what an Adept is, right?"

Her sister shot her a dark look. "Please, Arta. Weren't you just the one saying you think I'm smarter than I act? I've grown up hearing the same stories and watching the same holos as you. I know that Adepts aren't real, to start with. A bit of advanced tech and some sleight of hand; that's all it takes." Karani chuckled, but then she frowned when she saw the serious look on Arta's face. "Come on, you don't believe they're real, do you? What, did the old windbag say he was one or something?"

"Yeah, he did," Arta said. "And he said I'm one too,"

Karani looked like she was about to laugh, but after taking a long look at her sister's face, she just shook her head. "And you believed him?" she asked. "I knew there was something off about that guy from the start. I don't know where Father dug him up, but I'm about half-ready to right now and try to talk him into kicking Shiran out. He's clearly some sort of conman, and he wants something from us. This has got to be some sort of scam."

"I don't think so," Arta said. "Remember the assassination attempt, when you thought you saw me try to block a beam blast with my hand?"

"How could I forget? You scared me half to death!" Karani said.

"Well, I didn't try to block it," Arta said. "I did block it, I don't know how, and I don't think I could do it on purpose, but… it happened. And today, it happened again – the Professor threw his teacup at me, I think to get me to react on instinct, and I knocked it out of the air without touching it. I don't know if I'm an Adept like the sort you see in the holos, controlling people's minds and walking through walls, but, Karani... I'm something. And it scares me a little."

Karani regarded her in uncharacteristic silence, clearly trying to take it in. Then she put an arm around Arta's shoulder. "I know what you are," she said. "I know exactly what you are. You're my little sister. Maybe we don't share blood, but you're still part of this family, and that won't change no matter how many weird powers you end up having."

Arta looked up at her and smiled sadly. "I thought you didn't believe in 'weird powers'," she said.

Karani shrugged. "Maybe I don't. But you clearly do think something is going on, so for your sake, I'll try to believe until I'm proven wrong. But I just want you to know that I don't care if you turn out to be an Adept, or the last survivor of Lost Terra, or the Emperor's secret love child. No matter what, you're still Arta, so don't worry. Whatever's going on with you, we'll deal with it."

Arta smiled and put her own arm behind her sister's, pulling them more tightly into an embrace. "Thank you, big sister," she said. "It means a lot. And Shiran did offer to teach me, and he showed me a little bit of what he can do. But there's more, and maybe you won't like to hear it, but I think you'd better. Shiran… he implied he knew my mother."

From the tone, it was obvious who she meant – and it wasn't Baron Varas's wife, who'd died years ago when both sisters had been small. "You know I don't care about that, Arta," Karani said. "No matter where you come from, you're family. Didn't I just finish saying that?" It was true – from the time when Arta had been old enough to understand what a fosterling was and that she was one, Karani had always made it plain that she didn't love her sister any less because they weren't blood relatives.

For Arta, it had never been that easy. "I know that, Karani," she said. "But… well, you've always known exactly who you are and what your life is going to be. You're the firstborn of the Baron Varas ast Katanes, and you're part of a long line of Katanes barons and baronesses going back for as long as there've been humans on this planet. You know where you came from. I don't. Father never talks about it; all I know is that he came back with me one day from… somewhere."

"What else is there to know?" Karani asked. "Father took you in because he wanted you to be part of our family. You're ast Katanes, Arta, and it doesn't matter where you came from to start with."

"Maybe it doesn't," Arta said. "But I've always thought that there has to be a reason Father picked me instead of just adopting a daughter from Katanes; he obviously knows it, and Danash probably does to, but neither of them will tell me anything! Maybe it's not important, but maybe it is, and for my peace of mind if nothing else, I have to know! I've trained myself over the years to not worry about it, but if Shiran knows something, I have to find out what it is." She clenched her hands tightly and felt her nails digging into her skin. "He said my mother was an Adept to, or could have been one, anyway. Karani, this is important, I know it."

It was the most Arta could remember having ever said on the subject, and at first Karani looked startled, but then she smiled. "All right, then," she said. "If it's that important to you, I'll put up with the old guy and his boring lectures long enough for you to find out what he knows. I said I'd stick with you, and I'm not going to go back on that." She suddenly grinned rather nastily. "And if it turns out he's just leading you on because he's trying to rob us or something, then I swear to the Lord I'll kick his butt for you. Deal?"

"Deal," Arta said, laughing with relief. Karani was a straightforward person who wore her heart on her sleeve; in hindsight, Arta realized she probably shouldn't have worried that she'd pull away from her because she wanted to learn about her birth parents. If Karani said she loved her foster sister and would stand by her, she would; that was that. On impulse, Arta leaned over and grabbed Karani in a tight hug; the older girl was surprised for a moment, then returned it.

Then she shoved Arta off her bed. "Now that we've bonded, can you please go away now?" Karani asked. "I wasn't entirely kidding about being tired, you know. See you in the morning, Arta."

"Lazy," Arta muttered fondly as she stood and dusted herself off. "Good night, big sister."

Karani made no response; she was already wrapped firmly back up under her covers.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

/

Arta walked into her own bedroom a few moments later, and the first thing she noticed was that her tablet was flashing from where she'd left it on the table beside her bed. She frowned – she hadn't been expecting a message from anyone, and Father or the Professor could have just sent a servant or a mech to fetch her. Sitting on the bed, she picked up the tablet and ran a hand across its screen to turn it on – sure enough, she had an unread message.

Arta flicked her fingers on the screen, pulling up the message as a holo that hovered above the device. A sudden chill shot up her spine as she read the words, and they tugged again at memories she couldn't quite place. Arta it said, now you know the truth – or at least, a very small part of it. If you ever find yourself dissatisfied with the old man's teaching or want to learn the secrets he dangles in front of you faster than he's willing to reveal them, simply contact me. I promise you that I can tell you everything and won't hold back. You're stronger than he thinks.

Her gaze flicked to the address the message had originated from; it was a string of numbers and symbols that meant nothing to her. At the bottom of the screen, however, was a signature. It was, simply, the letter M.

Something about it bothered her, though she couldn’t figure out what; her mind seemed to skitter away when she tried to think about it too hard. Sighing, Arta tapped the screen and prepared to delete the message; her finger hovered over the button for a long moment, and then, not fully knowing why, she moved it to a hidden folder instead.

/

The next day, Arta sat in the center of the training hall with her legs crossed and her hands on her knees, while across from her the Professor sat in the same style. Karani reclined against one of the walls, casually eating a piece of fruit she'd swiped from the kitchens on their way here. She caught her foster-sister's eye and winked; Arta did her best to ignore her. Shiran said it was a good idea to practice Adept abilities with distractions, which was why he let Karani stay – she might not have any potential in that area herself, but she certainly knew how to be distracting.

"The first and most important lesson you need to learn, Arta," the Professor said, "is focus. Adeptitude is primarily a mental ability, and it requires strength of mind in order to wield it properly. Previously, you've used your abilities only when shocked and afraid, in the heat of the moment – and the first time, you feared that you and your sister were in danger of losing your lives. Being able to call upon your powers in those circumstances is useful, of course, but it's not going to serve you all the time – the time will come that you'll want to be able to call upon these powers deliberately, and to control what sort of manifestation you can make."

"What sorts of powers do you mean?" Arta asked, frowning. "All I've done so far is to block things from hitting me… or someone else. I take it there's more to it than that."

Shiran smiled. "There's a lot more to it than that," he said, "though the power you tapped into isn't uncommon for young adepts without any real training. Fundamentally, being an adept allows you to shape energy with your thoughts. Energy is all around us, permeating everything we do. The Church says it's the Lord's divine emanation illuminating all things; the Alaelam say that their One God directly permeates the universe and cannot be separated from it. The old cults in the height of the Empire held that there were many gods, and that Adepts could call on their favor to perform various feats. Secular science holds that matter and energy were both born with the universe and are, on some level, different manifestations of the same phenomenon. I don't know which, if any, of these is true, and I long ago gave up trying to classify it. The human mind is a wonderful thing, but I've found it's not always a tool that can encompass every truth.

"But what you believe about the source of the energies you can manipulate doesn't particularly matter. A skilled Adept can summon barriers of energy to block incoming threats, as you did. Finer manipulation can allow the Adept to directly control the motions of objects, as I demonstrated with the pieces of the teacup yesterday. It's also possible to affect technology, controlling the actions of mechs or reprogramming the contents of computers. The most skilled Adepts can affect the human brain itself."

"You mean, read minds?" Arta asked, feeling a sudden chill rise up her spine. Across the room, Karani stopped chewing her fruit and regarded Shiran with what looked to be genuine interest. "Or even control them?"

Shiran shook his head. "You can get a general sense of a person's emotional state if you're careful, but you can't 'read' their thoughts," he said. "That would take a finer touch than I've ever known an Adept to have. As for control – it's possible, but incredibly difficult, to take control of another person's thoughts for an extended period of time. Doing it long enough to accomplish something meaningful is a feat beyond what most Adepts would attempt. It's easier to make nudges; pushing people not to notice you, for example. However, if you're interested in controlling people in any more direct ways, that is something I will not teach you." There was a tone in his voice that brooked no dissent.

"I don't want that kind of power," Arta said fervently.

"Good," Shiran said, his tone approving. "Even a duke or baron's power over their subjects has limits; direct control of another person's mind by an Adept's gifts does not, for as long as you can hold it. I am… familiar with the technique and have seen it abused in the past; that is why I don't teach it, to anyone. If I thought you did want that power, I would have never agreed to teach you. However, this is not the end of an Adept's abilities. There are reports of yet stranger, more mystical abilities, such as dreaming of the future; this isn't, however, generally accepted by most reputable sources as being accurate. If you want to be a prophet, that is another area where I can't help you."

Karani snorted, expressing her opinion of prophetic dreams far more clearly than words ever could. Arta ignored her. "What abilities are you planning to teach me, Professor?" she asked.

"The first task is simply to have you reproduce on command the ability you've already demonstrated," Shiran said. "That is to say, to summon barriers of energy on your hands that can be used to block incoming threats, such as beam blasts."

"Or teacups!" Karani said, laughing.

Shiran smiled. "Or teacups, yes," he said. "Done properly, this technique would even allow you to block a dueling sword barehanded – though that's not a habit I'd recommend getting into. Are you ready to begin?"

Arta looked down at her lap, drew a deep breath, then looked back up at the Professor. "I think so," she said. "Anything else to say before we get started?"

"Just a warning," the Professor said. "Stories of wicked Adepts bargaining with demons and enslaving whole planets with dark powers don't happen outside of the holos; those are meant to entertain audiences and certainly aren't meant to reflect reality – and generally aren't made by people who know any better. But there are dangers in the Adepts' path. The energies we wield aren't, themselves, sentient – but they respond to our thoughts. Be careful of what you put into the cosmos, Arta, because the cosmos may well return it to you – amplified. That's why discipline is the key to the Adept's path."

"I understand," Arta said, nodding, even though she wasn't sure she really did. From his expression, Shiran wasn't fooled, but he nodded in return anyway.

"The first thing you need to do," he said, "is close your eyes, and then… breathe. This may seem simple to you, but I assure you it's more complicated than it sounds. You need to block out all distractions and focus entirely on your breaths. Count them; it often helps. The point is to block out all else and focus your will entirely on this one thing."

"All right," Arta said, unable to keep the dubious tone from her voice. She tightened her hands on her knees and began to breath in and out slowly, taking the time to count each breath as she did so. Still, however, she felt her mind wandering – she couldn't ignore the feeling of the padded floor beneath her, or the sound of Karani's chewing from across the room, or the itch in the middle of her back that she couldn't help raising a hand to scratch…

"No!" Shiran said, his voice sudden and sounding uncharacteristically harsh. "You're not feeling it, Arta. Concentrate only on your breathing; ignore all else, no matter how distracting."

All right, Arta thought irritably, let's try this again. With an effort, she forced herself to let her hand rest back on her knee and to drive all other thoughts and feelings from her mind. Ignoring the sounds, the sensations, and everything else, she focused just on the rhythm of exhaling and inhaling. That's right. In-out, in-out, in-out, in-out, in-out…

She didn't know how long she sat like that, focusing solely on the sound of her breath, but at last, the Professor spoke again. "Very good, Arta," he said. "Now, I want you to raise your hands and hold them out, palm up, in front of you. Good. Now, try to shift your focus from your breath to your hands."

Arta's rhythm of breathing didn't change, but she tried to allow her awareness to slide down her arms and find itself in her hands. She was suddenly powerfully aware of her long, slender fingers, her neatly trimmed nails, the callouses on her palms from her practice with her sword, the cool air of the practice room as it flowed across her skin…

"Now, Arta," Shiran said, "try to reach out beyond yourself. There is energy all around us. Can you feel it?"

Yes… Arta thought she could. Something was moving in the air around her, something that wasn't a breeze, or someone's breath, or the wind from a fan. Something that wasn't, in fact, air at all but something even more elusive and intangible. She could almost see it, even with her eyes closed – as if she sat in an endless sea of blue light, its currents eddying gently around her. In her mind's eye, the training room – the whole palace – seemed to have vanished. There was only Arta, and the light…

"Now, try to pull it into your hands," Shiran said. "Wrap it around them, make it a part of you. Draw it in, like your breath."

Like breath… Arta inhaled deeply, feeling as if she was drawing in more than air and that it was entering her entire body, not just through her nose. But she was focused most strongly on her hands – and suddenly they felt electrified, as if some new energy was coursing through them. Arta's eyes suddenly snapped open, and she stared at what she saw – her hands, held before her palm up, were now wreathed in haloes of blue energy so bright and seething that they almost seemed to be flames. She let out a startled cry and leapt to her feet, still holding her hands in front of her and staring in disbelief.

Across the room, Karani's mouth fell open in surprise and her half-eaten piece of fruit tumbled from her hand and landed on the floor with a small thump.

The Professor, however, merely applauded politely as he stood, and smiled. "Well done, Arta," he said. "I knew you'd be able to do it; I told you that you were an Adept, didn't I? Here's the proof."

"Proof, yes," Arta said in a flat voice; slowly, she lowered her hands, and the light went out.

"We'll have to continue practicing that, until you can do it as easily as breathing," Shiran said. "I'll warn you that other techniques may prove more difficult; this one you'd used before, albeit without realizing it. But still, congratulations. You are now, in a small but very real way, an Adept. Well done."

"Thank you, Professor," Arta said, still examining her hands, barely able to believe what had just happened, but knowing it to be true. Shiran had been right after all.

She found herself wondering what else he might have been right about, as well…