Free Rediscovery by Marion Zimmer Bradley Page B

accomplish it. Of one thing there was no doubt: the girl’s considerable talent. She would make a leronis to be reckoned with.
    Even now, the child sat toying with the harp as if the conversation were at an end, and Fiora’s continued presence of no consequence. Although she had never been on the receiving end of one before, the Keeper thought wryly that she knew a royal dismissal when she saw one! Fiora thought about the problems Leonie posed for several minutes, while Leonie idly strummed the rryl, and finally decided to be completely, even brutally, honest. Perhaps that would shake Leonie’s confidence enough that she might—just
    possibly—listen to the opinions and desires of someone besides herself.
    Fiora took a steadying, calming breath, and said, “Of course, it is a given that if you can be properly trained you will be a great credit to all of us.” Fiora paused to be sure she had Leonie’s full attention, “but I am not at all certain that you can be properly trained.” While Leonie sat speechless, she added, “And I think that any other Keeper in the Domains would tell you the same thing. Perhaps that was one reason why you were sent here, where we have only two other young girls in training, and may spend more time in dealing with you.”
    Leonie, dumbfounded, stared at the Keeper. Fiora was not certain she could be
    trained? Nobody had ever expressed qualms about her ability as a leronis before! Yet Fiora seemed entirely serious, and quite calm, as if it were a matter of casual fact.
    Perhaps—perhaps it was. The thought was daunting. Perhaps she had been sent into “exile” at quiet Dalereuth because Arilinn judged her to be too much of a risk!
    Leonie could sense lies, easily enough—and Fiora was not lying, nor was she making things up to frighten her charge. She was entirely serious.
    But Leonie was determined not to be frightened or intimidated; instead, she asked in a subdued, cautious voice, “Why should that be?”
    The otherworldly eyes seemed to regard her steadily. “Because of your pride,
    Leonie. Because you are so certain of your importance in the world, and that nothing you desire will ever be withheld from you. I can tell even now that you have great potential, and you may well have the Hastur Gift. But the training in a Tower, especially the training to be a Keeper, to which you claim to aspire, is long and difficult. And tedious. You will have to sacrifice much, and the gain is not all that certain.” She sighed, and Leonie stirred uncomfortably. “I do not know if you can endure it. You have never had to sacrifice anything; I do not know that you are capable of self-sacrifice to the extent needed. By your own account, you have never done anything you didn’t want to do, you have never attempted anything perilous, and you have never failed at anything.
    Perhaps that lack of failure is due less to your abilities, and more to the fact that you will not attempt things that are not easy for you, and abandon anything that bores you.”
    Leonie started to open her mouth to protest, and shut it again when she realized that, cruel as those words were, they were also entirely true. She felt even more uncomfortable; Fiora seemed to be able to see right through her in a way that no one else ever had—except, sometimes, Lorill—and it seemed as if what Fiora found in the core of her soul was little to her liking, and rather petty.
    Fiora continued, perfectly calmly, as if entirely unaware of the discomfort she was causing her newest pupil. “You have never even started to test the limits of your ability in anything. This training here might be your first experience of failure, and I do not know how well you would endure that. Not well at all, I would suspect.”
    Leonie blinked slightly, shaken and utterly deflated. It was an entirely new
    experience for her, and one that she did not at all like. “Do you think that I would fail, then, Fiora? Or give up as soon as the learning became