Read Online Dangerous Talents by Frankie Robertson - Free Book Online
Authors: Frankie Robertson
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during puberty, not in well-grown adults. “It’s rare among us that a child fails to develop Talent,” Dahleven added gently. It generally meant pitying glances and ostracism.
Understanding broke over Lady Celia’s features. She removed her hand from Sorn’s grasp. “You mean it’s like a deformity to be without Talent, don’t you? From your point of view, I’m not quite whole.”
All conversation had ceased. Falsom froze, still standing. No one spoke.
“Well, I’ve never had a talent, and until I got here I never knew anyone who did, so I don’t miss it. In fact, people who claim to have unusual abilities like that are considered a little flaky where I come from, so it’s not a problem for me. And, no offense, but while your Talents are handy, they hardly seem essential.”
Dahleven said nothing. No one else did either; there was nothing to say. Many people coped with their shortcomings by viewing them as unimportant. No good would come of persuading the Lady otherwise.
“You said some among your people have unusual abilities?” Sorn asked.
“So some of your people do have Talent?” Fendrikanin joined in.
“A few people claim they can move small objects without touching them, or see things that are far away with their minds, but they can’t always get it to work when they want it to. Most people are pretty skeptical about that sort of thing.”
“It sounds like Talent is rare among your people,” Dahleven said.
“Maybe. But if it doesn’t work consistently, what good is it?”
“Our Talents are consistent.” Dahleven spoke softly but firmly. He wanted Lady Celia to be clear on this point. He didn’t want her thinking of them with the same distrust she obviously had for the Talented among her own people. Maybe they deserved that doubt. He and his men did not.
Lady Celia was thoughtful for a moment. “Do you all have only one?”
Dahleven nodded. “One is enough.”
“What are they? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Pathfinding,” Dahleven said.
From Sorn: “I’m a Cat Foot.”
She nodded, understanding his unusually silent movement now.
“Water Finding,” Fendrikanin said softly.
“Heimdal’s Sight.” Falsom finally sat down.
Lady Celia looked confused. “What’s that?”
“Like Heimdal, I can see things at great distance.”
“Oh. And Ghav’s Talent has something to do with healing, doesn’t it?” Lady Celia looked around for the healer. “Pain. You stop pain, don’t you? That’s why you were upset when you thought I was hurting. You were afraid your Talent wasn’t working.”
Talentless or not, Dahleven admired her quick understanding.
“You’ve so recently arrived,” Ghav said. “It’s possible my Talent might have had no effect on you, but the lack of your response still would have distressed me.”
Lady Celia nodded. “Yes, of course.”
They fell silent again. Ghav was right to silence me out there , Dahleven thought. He’d been thinking ill of her for looking like a lady and dressing like a—what? A sex thrall? The lady Celia, however, kept the pace like a soldier, without complaint, and faced the truth without flinching from it. She might be Talentless, but his criticism was out of place, even if her lack of clothing was a hazard to her well-being and a distraction to his concentration.
Sorn again broke the tension. “Now that you know about our Talents, tell us about yourself.”
Not for the first time, Dahleven thanked the weavings of the Fates for Sorn’s presence, as his friend redirected the conversation with instinctive empathy.
A wicked twinkle glinted in Lady Celia’s eye. “I’ve been an emergency response operator for three years and a supervisor for two. I like pizza, hiking at dawn, and my favorite color is green.”
There was a perfect pause, then Fendrikanin hooted his laughter.
Sorn touched his forehead in mock salute. Then he asked, “What’s ‘pizza?’“
Lady Celia’s eyes widened and she put a hand on
Understanding broke over Lady Celia’s features. She removed her hand from Sorn’s grasp. “You mean it’s like a deformity to be without Talent, don’t you? From your point of view, I’m not quite whole.”
All conversation had ceased. Falsom froze, still standing. No one spoke.
“Well, I’ve never had a talent, and until I got here I never knew anyone who did, so I don’t miss it. In fact, people who claim to have unusual abilities like that are considered a little flaky where I come from, so it’s not a problem for me. And, no offense, but while your Talents are handy, they hardly seem essential.”
Dahleven said nothing. No one else did either; there was nothing to say. Many people coped with their shortcomings by viewing them as unimportant. No good would come of persuading the Lady otherwise.
“You said some among your people have unusual abilities?” Sorn asked.
“So some of your people do have Talent?” Fendrikanin joined in.
“A few people claim they can move small objects without touching them, or see things that are far away with their minds, but they can’t always get it to work when they want it to. Most people are pretty skeptical about that sort of thing.”
“It sounds like Talent is rare among your people,” Dahleven said.
“Maybe. But if it doesn’t work consistently, what good is it?”
“Our Talents are consistent.” Dahleven spoke softly but firmly. He wanted Lady Celia to be clear on this point. He didn’t want her thinking of them with the same distrust she obviously had for the Talented among her own people. Maybe they deserved that doubt. He and his men did not.
Lady Celia was thoughtful for a moment. “Do you all have only one?”
Dahleven nodded. “One is enough.”
“What are they? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Pathfinding,” Dahleven said.
From Sorn: “I’m a Cat Foot.”
She nodded, understanding his unusually silent movement now.
“Water Finding,” Fendrikanin said softly.
“Heimdal’s Sight.” Falsom finally sat down.
Lady Celia looked confused. “What’s that?”
“Like Heimdal, I can see things at great distance.”
“Oh. And Ghav’s Talent has something to do with healing, doesn’t it?” Lady Celia looked around for the healer. “Pain. You stop pain, don’t you? That’s why you were upset when you thought I was hurting. You were afraid your Talent wasn’t working.”
Talentless or not, Dahleven admired her quick understanding.
“You’ve so recently arrived,” Ghav said. “It’s possible my Talent might have had no effect on you, but the lack of your response still would have distressed me.”
Lady Celia nodded. “Yes, of course.”
They fell silent again. Ghav was right to silence me out there , Dahleven thought. He’d been thinking ill of her for looking like a lady and dressing like a—what? A sex thrall? The lady Celia, however, kept the pace like a soldier, without complaint, and faced the truth without flinching from it. She might be Talentless, but his criticism was out of place, even if her lack of clothing was a hazard to her well-being and a distraction to his concentration.
Sorn again broke the tension. “Now that you know about our Talents, tell us about yourself.”
Not for the first time, Dahleven thanked the weavings of the Fates for Sorn’s presence, as his friend redirected the conversation with instinctive empathy.
A wicked twinkle glinted in Lady Celia’s eye. “I’ve been an emergency response operator for three years and a supervisor for two. I like pizza, hiking at dawn, and my favorite color is green.”
There was a perfect pause, then Fendrikanin hooted his laughter.
Sorn touched his forehead in mock salute. Then he asked, “What’s ‘pizza?’“
Lady Celia’s eyes widened and she put a hand on
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