CHAPTER 5

He hadn't realised how badly she'd lusted after power, of any description, until he discovered her true talent for demon summoning. Using their newborn baby as a sacrifice. Little Evelyn, at two days old too young to even properly grip the teddy he'd bought her. But something was wrong, Evelyn wasn't suitable, so Cora had nearly broken him in half, told him he'd never see his baby again, and vanished.

But that doesn't explain why you did all those things to me, thought Riarté, then smiled grimly.

"All right, Francesca. Come on out."

He realised that his eyes had been resting on her for the last five minutes.

"Your name is Evelyn Maria Riarté. Both your parents were enchanters, which meakes you deeply gifted. Let's face it, you had no more guidance than a few old books, but you can out-manoeuvre my finest apprentice every time."

"That's not enchantment. That's cunning."

"Cunning was always part of it. And that you had, just like your mother."

"Hence all the tests. You never wanted any information out of me, you were just checking my tolerances."

"Yes, I had Fynn accusing me of torure, at one point. Quite needlessly emotive. No, I had to be sure. Cora harmed a lot of people. And things. And she didn't have a half of your power."

"If I'd been like her, you would have killed me."

"Oh, yes. And Gregor's reports gave a very mixed impression of you. We had to be careful. If we had interfered in your development, it might have sent you down the wrong path."

"I'll be having a word with Gregor." Fran spoke absently.

"You're wondering about Fynn. He is my apprentice, simply that. But I made him see all the aspects of you, your beauty and your vulnerability- ah, you're there now."

"You admitted you're trying to tap his full power. An emotional crisis would do it, wouldn't it? Being forced to watch someone being tortured over and over, perhaps."

"Yes, after the fuss he made over his sister, I was sure that would be the key."

"His sis- Alicia?"

"Yes. The two of them were brought to me. But I had no intention of harbouring another Cora. Fynn had the gift, Alicia had the yearning. And I soon made him forget the relationship, so all was well."

Fran grit her teeth. "And what if you were wrong about her? Just what are you capable of?"

"Making you forget all this, for a start. You've passed every test, Fran, and you'll never be harmed more."

"Damn right she won't." Fynn nearly smiled at the way father and daughter jumped. "I won't let you keep her here."

"Oh, and why not?"

"Because I love her." Fynn carefully didn't look up as he said this.

"Oh, no!" gasped Fran. Then her expression slammed closed again. "An emotional crisis. Yeah, that qualifies. You evil, manipulative-"

She broke off, staring at the corona of power surrounding Fynn. He was controlling it with an effort, but it was controlled.

"We. Are. Leaving." Fynn's voice had suddenly gained harmonics.

"No, Fynn," said Riarté calmly. "You need my teaching more than ever."

"I think... I think I've learned enough already. Like what you'll do to keep people trapped and docile. And you're not doing that to Fran. And you're not doing that to me."

"Do you defy me?"

"Yes," said Fran quietly. "I reckon we do."

Riarté spun, staring at the corona neatly boiling around Fran. "How..?"

"Oh, this?" Fran advanced a step. "See, you're the sort of person who'd rather will a roast duck into existence than do a bit of cooking. Some of us prefer to conserve our power."

"But you haven't the skill. All those mornings when you could have broken free-"

"Skill? Nah. Self-control? Believe it. But we both know it isn't self-control that's the secret, don't we? It's controlling oth- now, Fynn!"

He neatly broke the nearest ward while Fran distracted Riarté, and now the two threw themselves through the wall and landed on the lawn.

"What now?" Fynn gasped.

"Away," replied Fran, and closed her eyes. Away, away, away...Her muscles clenched, trying to run or fly or anything to escape. She could feel Fynn's power and her own, and when she opened her eyes...

She tried to swear, but the beak of a barn owl isn't really up to the job. Nor was the alarmed raven beside her. What have we done? she thought. And what about Riarté?

The moon had started out high and full, but there was now a darkness spilling from the horizon, the silvery light being choked by a formless black cloud.

The owl whistled. It was hard enough maintaining an alien form as it was, but not having a form at all... The two birds dived towards the woodland.

Half a minute later, Fran was lying on the damp grass, clutching at a tree root for support. Fynn laughed at the sky.

"That was a blast! What do we do next?"

"You go back to your parents, I to my flat."

"I don't understand."

Fran rolled over. God, those innocent brown eyes would be a wonderful thing to wake up to. "Fynn, you're not in love with me. It's like, like ducklings. They hatch, and they take the first big bird they see to be their Mum. How many girls do you know, hmm?"

"How many do I need to? Sometimes, what the ducklings think is their Mum, really is."

"This isn't real. What you and- Dammit, we're enchanters, we're experts at illusion. Give it six months, you'll barely give me a thought."

Fynn bowed, with full and proper respect. "See you in six months, then."

Fran watched him vanish, then sighed. She wasn't a hero. She sometimes imagined women who got up each morning and fought monsters and tyrants with little more than their wits and a good range of snappy one-liners.

From where she lay she could feel hoofbeats shaking the earth. She was tired and lost, enchantment and adrenaline both ebbing away. All right then, she thought. Whatever. I rescued someone today, and that'll do.

The black horse thundered up to her, and stopped, smelling the air. With little or no fuss it became Riarté.

"I said you had passed, and you have. Just grant me one thing."

"What?"

"Take these with you."

In one hand appeared a teddy bear that had never been played with, in the other a cat with a human soul. Fran cuddled both.

"All right, then."

Riarté smiled, presented Fran with his card, then pointed. Fran barely had time to yelp.

© Naomi 'Ni' Claydon 2000. No copying without permission.