What Galen had missed was one small patch of death cup mushrooms to the side of the unusually large clump of common edible ones. Perhaps he had not concentrated on them at all, pulling his old trick of deducing what he could not Read. His high intelligence compensated for weak Reading skill in the classroom; it was in the field that Galen's inadequacies showed.
Still not Reading, Lenardo bent beside Galen, gathering the fresh mushrooms, leaving the older stalks. Tonight there would be a casserole of eggs and mushrooms on the refectory table.
According to the lesson, Galen was supposed to be Reading each mushroom as he picked it. Lenardo carefully picked in a pattern that edged Galen toward the poisonous ones. The boy finished plucking all those he could reach, looked around, and moved toward the group of death cups. Lenardo's heart sank. He shouldn't have to go near them to Read they were poisonous!
To Lenardo's horror, Galen reached out and broke off two of the deadly mushrooms.
"Galen!" he exclaimed before the boy could toss them into the basket. "If you're not going to Read, look!"
"But I-" The boy stared at the mushrooms in his hand, turned pale, and then an angry red. "That's not fair! You pushed me this way!"
"Yes, I did," said Lenardo. "I thought you would discover the death cups for yourself, and then I could have praised you. Look-the moment you bothered to use your eyes you saw the fatal cup around the stem."
The boy threw the poisonous mushrooms aside and scrubbed his hand roughly against his robe, fighting down tears. Trying to guide him to make something positive of the experience, Lenardo asked, "What can you learn from this mistake?"
"That I might have poisoned myself and everyone at the academy!" Galen said grimly.
"No," said Lenardo, "you already knew that a Reader's mistake can cost his life or those of others. It is the corollary to that lesson that you refuse to learn, Galen-and that, more than any deficiency in your Reading skill, is what will cause you to fail your final test. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
"Know your limitations," Galen quoted.
"Not only know them, but admit them," Lenardo added. "You have many years before you will come to the peak of your Reading skills. No Reader under thirty is yet in full command of his powers."
"I know that," Galen said dully.
"No," Lenardo replied, "you have heard it time and again, but you refuse to know it. And that makes you dangerous. Galen, you knew you were not Reading the mushrooms properly. Any ten-year-old would have had the sense to look at them!"
"I did look!" Galen protested. "I looked when you told me to Read them from behind the trees. They all looked edible!" His vehemence died. "I guess I didn't check every single one," he admitted. "Cook would have caught-" He hung his head. "No, don't say it. That's not the point. I won't let it happen again."
That was the Galen Lenardo loved, able to admit his mistakes and go on.
"Good. Now I want you to practice checking your Reading through your other senses. I do it. Even Master Clement does it. It's only common sense."
"You scold me for doing it in class."
"Galen, don't pretend stupidity. How can you know your limitations if you cheat when we are testing them?"
"Yes, Magister," the boy said resignedly. Lenardo longed to Read what was going on in his mind, but Galen had not invited such scrutiny, and so the Law of Privacy prevailed. But if the boy's sunny enthusiasm continued to disintegrate into these mood swings, how was be to learn the final lessons that would allow him to reach the top ranks of Readers?
Among the older boys, only Galen and Torio showed the deep sensitivity that would keep them in the brotherhood of the academy. The others would be trained to the fullest extent of their abilities, then assigned to places where even a Reader of limited capacity would be welcome. Most would serve with the army for two or three years, directing the troops in the constant battle against the savages. Then they would be married off to similarly limited female Readers, to lose much of whatever powers they had in breeding a new generation of Readers. Lenardo's parents had been assigned in that fashion to the city of Zendi. He remembered little of them now, except their determination that their children would not fail their final tests and suffer a similar fate.
As Lenardo and Galen came out of the woods into the fields around Adigia, thunder rumbled and the first fat raindrops fell. Lightning flashed, and they quickened their pace. The rain remained light, but the lightning and thunder increased, coming together as the storm approached. Harvesters in the fields ran to hold their' frightened horses lest the loaded wagons overturn.
"Hoi Magister Lenardo! Can I give ye a lift?"
"Thank you kindly," Lenardo began as one of the hay wagons slowed beside them, the driver fighting the frightened team. Setting his heels, the man rose to his feet, hauling on the reins as Lenardo, panic striking through him with the flash of foreknowledge, cried, "No! Get down!"
But it was too late. Lightning bolted the man to the wagon for one paralyzed instant as the crash of thunder shook the earth. Then the screaming horses dashed forward, and the driver tumbled to the ground, limp as a poleless scarecrow.
Both Lenardo and Galen were on him at once, working in unison, Reading for broken bones or internal injuries before they spread Lenardos cloak and laid the man on it. It was the work of moments. //His heart's stopped,// said Galen. //He's not breathing!//
//Pump his lungs,// Lenardo instructed, for Galen already 'knew basic emergency procedures. The boy bent to his task while Lenardo Read for the right spot to place his hands, where the force he might apply would be transmitted to the man's heart. Then he was working automatically, Reading, hardly thinking.
Is he dead? There was not enough damage from the lightning to account for the lack of response in the limp body. As the rain began to pour down on them, the man's body temperature started to drop. Were they trying to revive a corpse? There were fine nerves, infinitely small structures in the human body that Lenardo had not the sensitivity to Read-no Reader had. He could -Read no unconscious mind either-just a physical shell.
//It's no use,// he told Galen.
//No!// the boy protested, continuing his ministrations. Lenardo remembered that this was the first time Galen was putting what he had learned to use in a real emergency. How hideous to have his first patient die!
//Galen, he was dead before we touched him.// He sat back on his heels, rubbing his hands.
"No!" Galen cried out loud. He was soaked through now, his hair plastered to his skull as the rain beat on them. Still he moved quickly to the other side of the man's body and took up trying to pump his heart.
"Galen, it's no- Wait!" A flicker-a mind. "You're right, Galen! Go on!" Lenardo took up the task of forcing air into the man's lungs.
Galen said, his voice shaken by his stiff-armed bouncing on the man's chest, "If-I were-one of those-savage Adepts-I'd force -his heart-to work."
//Hush!// Lenardo warned him. //People are watching us.// For, indeed, a crowd had gathered to watch the revival effort.
Suddenly he Read a heartbeat. A pause, then another, agonized spasms, and then an unsteady rhythm. At the same time, the man gasped, groaned, and began to breathe stertorously.
The two Readers sat back, watching, as a murmur of wonder came from the gathered workers. Then a young man came to kneel beside them.
"Father?"
"He can't hear you," said Lenardo, "but he's alive."
"Thank the gods you were here!" the man said.
Lenardo projected warmly to Galen, //Thank the gods you wouldn't give up!//
As soon as the man's condition seemed stable, they carried him to his house, where his wife scurried about, putting him to bed, then insisting that the two drenched Readers warm themselves before the fire. Lenardo intended to stay until the man regained consciousness, for he feared that after the length of time he had been… dead… there might be irreparable damage. For that reason, he tried to send Galen on to the academy, but just as the boy was about to leave, their patient suddenly woke with a hoarse cry.