Freakling (23 page)

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” Elder Naseph stood in the doorway, calmly surveying the scene. “I knew this moment would come. I saw it. The power outage you masterminded was quite impressive. Rather poetic. A powerless person creating a power outage.” Elder Naseph chuckled and strolled into the room with all his fine airs and tinkling noises.

“Nothing about this is funny or poetic,” Taemon said. “It’s downright evil.”

The priest looked disappointed. “Now, now, we have much to talk about. Shall we call a truce and discuss our options? Absolutely no psi, you have my word.” He held out his hands, palms upward.

Amma scoffed. “Your word? Do you think we trust your word?”

“I’m not worried about your psi,” Taemon said. “And I’m not interested in what you have to say. You and the other priests need to put a stop to this war. I won’t let you send Yens to the Republik.”

Elder Naseph chuckled. “Stop the war? Dear Brother Houser. It is not my war to stop.”

“What do you mean?” Amma asked.

“The war is already going on all around us. Deliverance has been an oasis of peace. But it can’t last. The Republik needs our help. We cannot sit idly by and watch our neighbor nation torn apart by war. The era of isolation is past. As for your brother, who better to wield our unstoppable weapons? He’ll have to live with the Republikites, that’s true, but think of him as an ambassador.”

Amma snorted. “Sounds more like a hostage.”

Taemon’s mind was reeling. “So . . . the war . . . Everything is . . .” The sentences were too horrific to complete. “If your plans are in place, why do you need the library?”

Elder Naseph smiled. “I thought you had no interest in hearing what I have to say.”

“Just get on with it,” Taemon ordered.

“Very well. I want you to understand, young Taemon, because you have played an important role in all this. The Republik is a strong nation. Psiless, mind you, but well organized. Highly militarized. Making an alliance with them is nothing to play at. They have a history of turning on their allies. But when we decided to end the long isolation of Deliverance and take our place in world leadership, we knew we’d need the Republik on our side, at least to begin with. They wanted psi weapons and someone who could use them. We could provide that. But we needed something more, some coveted treasure that we could hold against them to keep them in their place. The library is perfect. It seems they’ve lost some of that knowledge themselves and would do just about anything to get it back.”

“The library is not a bargaining chip!” Amma said. “It belongs to the colony.”

“It belongs to the people,” Elder Naseph said. “We’re just taking it back. Not only can we create more powerful weapons for ourselves, but as long as we have the books in our hands, we can make sure the Republik doesn’t double-cross us and try to use our own weapons against us. So you see? This way, everyone gets what they want.”

“No one wants war,” Taemon said.

“Oh, I disagree with that.” Elder Naseph tsked. “Plenty of people want war.” He smiled and folded his arms in front of his chest. “So I really must thank you for bringing us the library. The way you discerned the psi lock was most impressive. Oh, yes, we knew it was you,” Elder Naseph said when Taemon stiffened in shock. “Your brother proved useful for a time, but we quickly discovered that he was not as gifted as we’d been led to believe.

“But you, young Taemon. You have gifts you may not even be aware you possess. I can help you uncover those gifts, master them. We can work together, you and I. In the New Cycle, I plan to appoint new priests. Younger priests. How would you like that, Elder Taemon?” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t your da be proud.”

“Absolutely not,” Taemon said.

“Perhaps you’d rather be the True Son.” Elder Naseph jangled the trinkets in his beard. “That could be arranged.”

His calculating tone was sickening. Taemon
was
the True Son, and Elder Naseph had nothing to do with it. Da had been right to view the priests’ presumptuousness with contempt.

“I’ll never lead your army,” said Taemon. “I’ll never use psi to hurt people.”

The priest waved his hand dismissively. “We won’t be hurting anyone. I expect one demonstration will be sufficient for the world to surrender to our leadership. We could get rid of Mount Deliverance. Pull down the mountains that separate us from the Republik as a sign of goodwill. Then we can join forces with the Republik and help them win the war. After that . . . just think for a moment. Who do you think will lead the Republik after the war? Why, the psi wielders, of course. Namely you and I, the most powerful of psi wielders.”

“You think we believe that?” Amma interrupted. “You’re just trying to get Taemon on your side, where you can keep him under your thumb.”

Taemon weighed his options. What could he do to stop Naseph? He already had the library, Yens’s cooperation, and the treaty with the Republik, none of which Taemon had the power to take away, even with psi. Maybe he should give in for now and agree to work with Naseph. Later he could find another way to defeat the high priest’s plan. He had to admit, having psi again felt wonderful. And he still had clairvoyance as well. There would be almost nothing he couldn’t do.

But Challis had been so sure that this was his one chance to stop the war. Could she have been wrong? Would there be another chance somewhere down the road?

If he could only figure out what exactly he should do.

Choose wisely, for this choice has great consequences. This choice determines the nature of the next Great Cycle. You have been chosen to make this decision on behalf of all.

Could he really work with the priests? Try to turn them around? They had powerful psi. They’d gotten their hands on dangerous knowledge. It was a disastrous combination, no matter what side Taemon chose.

There are yet many paths, many choices.

What other choices? Taemon had never felt like he had so few choices in his life.

Something that Amma had said came into his mind. What you want determines who you are. The real problem here was the high priest’s greedy, hateful ways. If he could get rid of that, he could solve everything.

Is there a way to change a person’s heart? Take the evil desires away?

Free will is gift that even I cannot take away.

So he couldn’t force anyone to be virtuous. But what if he were the leader? What if Taemon Houser were telling people what to do? Could he stop rewarding greed and pride and motivate people to help one another?

It is possible. Think carefully. Choose wisely.

Three temple guards entered the room. “Elder Naseph, there’s trouble outside the temple,” the head guard said.

“Trouble?” Elder Naseph kept his eyes on Taemon, but his words were meant for the guards. “What kind of trouble?”

“A crowd,” said the guard. “An . . . unruly crowd. They’re chanting something. We don’t know what.”

Elder Naseph used psi to open a set of ornately etched glass doors, which led out to some kind of balcony. With the doors open, the chanting became clear.

“Young Moke! Young Moke! Young Moke!”

“Ah, yes,” said Naseph. “The unfortunate accident at the power plant. This will work perfectly into our plans, Taemon. The people are ready for change, hungry for something more. The time has come to reshape our society.”

Anger swelled in Taemon’s chest. Moke’s death worked perfectly into their plans? Not for Moke it didn’t. And not for Taemon.

“Young Moke! Young Moke!” The chanting became louder.

“Your moment has come, Taemon. Step out on the balcony with me, and I will introduce you as the new True Son.”

Without waiting to see if Taemon would follow, the old priest walked out onto the balcony. He motioned for quiet.

Amma put her hand on Taemon’s arm. There was more power in that touch than in all the psi coursing through their bodies. “Picture what you want,” she whispered. “Then make it happen. Just be sure of what you want.”

“My brothers and sisters,” Elder Naseph called out to the crowd. “We knew that the beginning of the Great Cycle would bring many astonishing events, and today has brought much astonishment. Darkness in our city. An unfortunate loss of a young man. Young Moke died because he was brave enough to stand up for his friends and for the important changes that must take place. Let us memorialize young Moke’s death by enacting these changes.”

The crowd’s chanting turned into applause.

“Now I wish to make known to you another astonishing event. The True Son has proven himself unworthy. He has confessed to lying about his own abilities, his greed and ambition having blinded him to what was right. But fear not! Another True Son shall take his place.”

The crowd murmured its confusion.

“This young man is a True Son worthy of the name and of the honor! He is uniquely qualified to act as an ambassador between the powerless world and our own, for he himself was once powerless, but now he is the most powerful among us, the one who will lead us into a Great Cycle of prosperity! Taemon Houser, the new True Son.”

The crowd was silent. Elder Naseph had tried to make it a momentous occasion, but even Taemon felt it was clumsy and false. Taemon stepped forward to the edge of the balcony and looked down at the crowd. He saw Solovar standing in front. Taemon knew the crowd was waiting for him to speak, but he had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth and hoped something intelligent would come out.

Before Taemon could say a word, the balcony began to shake. Just a tremble at first, then enough to make him stumble and grab the railing. What in the Great Green Earth? He turned around and saw Yens standing in the doorway.

“I am the True Son,” Yens said. “I am the True Son!”

The temple shook again.

Amma gasped. “An earthquake.”

Taemon knew he had to do something. He tried to connect with Yens’s body and confuse his brain signals, as he’d done before. But it wasn’t working. Yens’s heart was beating fast, and his brain was in some kind of superexcited state.

The carved railings of the temple balcony broke off and fell to the ground below. Taemon took a few staggering steps away from the edge.

He sent his awareness into the earth underneath him, trying to figure out what Yens was doing to cause the earthquake. He could tell that Yens had shifted something out of balance, but Taemon hadn’t seen what the earth had looked like before Yens had shifted it. Taemon couldn’t be sure how to put it back without causing more damage.

The earthquake was getting worse. The floor of the balcony cracked, and chunks of the walls broke loose.

Yens’s eyes were wild. His hands were clenched into fists. The cords on his neck stood out. “You. Are
not.
The True Son.” His words came between panting breaths.

I have to end this,
thought Taemon.
I have to end this right now.

You are permitted to end his life.

No,
Taemon answered the voice in his mind.
I already made that decision. I will not kill my own brother.

Images flashed in his mind. Mam screaming in agony. He and Amma running for their lives from something big and dark that chased them. An explosion in the city.

Choose wisely.

He wouldn’t kill Yens, but he had to find another way to stop his brother.

Moke’s death flashed in Taemon’s mind. He tried to shove his sadness away until he realized that it was part of the solution. Moke died because Taemon’s knowledge was useless without power and Amma’s power was useless without knowledge. If he could separate Yens’s knowledge from the power . . .

It reminded him of what Challis had said: “When virtue is missing, power must be separated from knowledge.” Skies, he must be going klonky if Challis’s words were starting to make sense. But klonky or not, he had to do something. Now.

The floor of the balcony snapped, then tilted. The temple walls groaned and cracked. Taemon used clairvoyance to examine its foundations and found they were badly damaged. The temple could collapse any second. He could probably fix it, but somehow it seemed right to let the temple fall. The greed of the priests had brought the downfall of their society.

He turned to Amma. “You have to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” she said.

Taemon looked over the precarious edge of the balcony. “Use psi to stack some of that rubble into something we can climb down on,” Taemon said.

Amma nodded.

Now to deal with Yens. Was it possible to take away Yens’s psi? After all, he’d done it to himself not more than a year ago.

Think carefully. Choose wisely.

Finally! A solution that might work! He could take psi away from Yens and maybe from the priests, too. And from anyone else who had a mind to do evil. But he’d need a way to distinguish the good people from the bad ones. How would he do that? And did he really have the right to decide who could have psi and who couldn’t? That sounded awfully like something the priests would do.

An idea was shaping itself in Taemon’s mind. At first he pushed it aside. It was unthinkable. Foolish. Insane. But the thought wouldn’t leave. It did solve the problem, after all.

Think carefully.

But it would cause so many new problems.

The temple shuddered, as if in its death spasms.

Choose wisely.

New problems that could also be solved.

The floor under Taemon’s feet dropped another foot or two.

You must choose. On behalf of your people, you must choose.

Taemon gathered his psi and focused his thoughts.

Let all psi in Deliverance be done away with!
Taemon cried to the Heart of the Earth.
Let each man and woman work by the power of their own hands. Let this begin the Great Cycle!

Be it so.

The words echoed through his mind, his heart, his bones, his flesh.