***
Over the next few days, Lannon couldn't focus on Promotion Day at all, as his thoughts kept wandering back to his nightmare. He didn't reveal the dream to his friends, preferring to suffer alone with the gloom that filled his mind. One day, he encountered Taris Warhawk on the stairs of the East Tower, and the sorcerer gazed at him piercingly and asked if anything was wrong. Lannon just shook his head and hurried past Taris up to his chamber.
When Promotion Day finally arrived, Lannon failed all five Trials--as if he simply lacked the will to try. These tests were indeed more difficult than the Color Trials, consisting of weapon skills, resistance to sorcery, and tests involving strength, agility, balance, and knowledge. Lannon should have passed the knowledge test easily, considering his love for books and history, but his mind kept going blank. He could sense others watching him, judging him because of the power he possessed, and the pressure grew nearly unbearable.
At last it was over. Once again Vorden did the best of all the Squires. In fact, the only combat-related test he was clearly beaten at was Archery (by little Timlin, who was untouchable with the bow). Timlin, Jerret, and Aldreya did well also, and Lannon's friends all received an additional ribbon on their sashes--getting them that much closer to Knighthood. Lannon, however, did not earn a ribbon and would have to wait that much longer to become a Knight (if he ever did become one).
Lannon's misery and feelings of isolation made him want to flee back to the East Tower and hide, but instead he forced himself to do the right thing and celebrate with his friends in the Great Hall.
Lannon didn't eat much of the fine dinner that was laid out before the Squires, and he sat with his head bowed in spite of the talking and laughing going on around him. He avoided making eye contact with anyone. He wondered what they all thought of him--the bearer of the Eye of Divinity, who'd performed so miserably on Promotion Day. They couldn't see the struggles going on inside him. All they saw was a lad who was supposed to have an advantage but couldn't even pass a single one of the Trials. He was certain the Squires were whispering amongst themselves about how pathetic he was.
"You should eat something, Lannon," said Vorden, who'd already cleaned two plates. "You don't want to end up as skinny as Timlin."
"Lannon did poorly," said Aldreya. "Perhaps he doesn't feel like eating. I know I wouldn't if I had done that badly at the Trials."
Lannon sighed. He knew Aldreya meant no harm, and it was simply her way to be blunt. But the words stung nonetheless.
"I don't think Lannon wants that pointed out, Aldreya," said Jerret. "It's kind of rude."
Aldreya looked puzzled. "Why is it rude? I only speak the truth."
"That's not the point," said Jerret. "You Birlotes are all kind of rude. You think you're superior to everyone else."
"That's ridiculous," said Aldreya, her green eyes flashing in anger. "I consider everyone at this table to be my friend and my equal."
Jerret shrugged. "Sorry, but that's how I see Birlotes."
"Your view is misguided, Jerret," said Vorden. "If the Birlotes act superior, it's just the way they're taught. Most of the Birlotes here, including Aldreya, have royal blood in them and were raised accordingly. And besides, Aldreya is right. You really did quite poorly, Lannon. What happened out there? With the Eye of Divinity, you should have dominated Promotion Day."
Lannon considered simply excusing himself and returning to the East Tower, but he felt obligated to explain things to his friends. "I didn't use the Eye. I haven't been summoning it lately. Truthfully, I've been afraid."
"That doesn't make sense," said Vorden. "You were getting quite good at using it, last I knew. What could you possibly be afraid of?"
"I don't know," said Lannon. "I keep dreaming of Tenneth Bard--that he's up to something below Dremlock. But that's not really why I'm afraid. I guess I'm afraid of what the Eye might show me."
"I wish I had your power," said Timlin, his eyes shining. "I would use it all the time and probe every secret."
"There are some things," said Lannon, "that you really wouldn't want to see, Timlin. Things too dark to even imagine."
"Dark things don't bother me," said Timlin. He wrung his hands together, as if suddenly agitated. "I've seen my share--without the Eye of Divinity."
"Are you talking about those scars on your back?" said Vorden, gazing with pity at Timlin. "You must have really suffered."
"That's none of your concern, Vorden," Timlin said. "Don't bring up things from my past in public. You're just as rude as Aldreya. Anyway, I wasn't talking about that. I know what you think." He fell silent and gave no indication he was going to explain that last statement.
"Well, what do I think?" Vorden finally asked.
Timlin glowered at him. "You think I was corrupted when I was younger, because of the beatings and all. Well, you're wrong. Those lashings didn't change me and never will--unless they made me tougher, which is a good thing. I couldn't care less about a few scars or going hungry all the time. That's just life, and life is tough. You're jealous because I was far better than you today at archery."
"That's nonsense," said Vorden. "Calm down. I'm sorry for mentioning your past, but you kind of opened the door for it. Anyway, let's just put this behind us." Vorden extended his hand to Timlin. "Are we still friends?"
Timlin's face was crimson, his eyes smoldering. His tiny hands were squeezed into fists. He was trembling.
"Enough!" Vorden snapped. "Calm yourself!" In spite of Vorden's harsh tone, there was a flicker of fear in his eyes.
Timlin fought with himself for an instant longer and then his anger seemed to diminish. He sighed, then nodded. "Okay, just don't talk about my past. I don't care about it, so why should you?"
"I get it," said Vorden, rolling his eyes. "You don't care about it. Well, neither do I at this point. So let's forget it."
For an instant, Timlin's lower lip quivered and he looked like he might cry. Then he hunkered down, his face sullen.
An uncomfortable silence followed. Lannon felt sympathy for Timlin, but as usual, the skinny lad's strange personality disturbed him. Timlin seemed to lack a true sense of honor or even basic concern for anyone but himself, and there was no telling what he might do if he grew angry enough. Timlin reminded Lannon of a poisonous spider lying in wait for anyone foolish enough to provoke him.
"That little incident aside," said Vorden, again rolling his eyes, "I want to steer this conversation back toward you, Lannon."
"I'd rather not," said Lannon. "I just need time to work things out."
A shadow fell upon Lannon. Startled, he turned quickly in his chair--to find Taris Warhawk. The sorcerer nodded in greeting.
"Lannon, I would like to speak to you later in private," said Taris, "when you get back to the East Tower."
Lannon's heart sped up. Taris' face and voice seemed grim. "What's it about?" he asked.
"As I said," Taris reminded him, "we shall speak in private."
"I'm done eating," said Lannon, "if you want to go now." He was anxious to hear what Taris had to say.
Taris nodded. "My duties here are finished. We shall walk together outside and talk. This business is quite pressing."