Magic's Pawn (43 page)

“As I keep saying, you’re like we are. You guard the Pelagirs as the Heralds guard Valdemar,” Savil said.

Starwind nodded, his braids swaying. “Aye, save that your Heralds concern themselves with the people, and the
Tayledras
with the land.”

“Valdemar
is
the people; we could pack up and flee again, as we did at the founding, and still be Valdemar. I suspect the same would be true of you, if you’d only admit it.”

“Na, the
Tayledras
are bound to the land, cannot live outside the Pelagirs; we must - “ Starwind was interrupted by the scream of a hawk somewhere above his head. He threw up his forearm, and a large, white raptor plunged down out of the canopy of leaves to land on Starwind’s arm. Vanyel winced, then saw that the
Tayledras
wore white leather forearm guards, which served to keep the wicked talons from his flesh.

It was a gyrefalcon; its wings beat the air for a moment before it settled, its golden eyes fixed on Starwind’s face.

The
Tayledras
smoothed its head with one finger, then stared into the hawk’s eyes for a long, long time, seeming to be reading something there.

Then, without warning, he flung up his arm, launching it back into the air from his wrist. The falcon’s wings beat against the thick, damp air, then it gained height and vanished back up into the tree branches.

“Bad news?” Savil asked.

“Nay - good. The situation is not so evil as we feared. Moondance is wearied, but he shall return by sunrise.”

“I’m glad to hear something is going right for someone,” Savil replied, sighing.

“Indeed,” the Adept replied, turning those strange, unreadable eyes on Vanyel. “Indeed. Young Vanyel, I would advise you to walk about, regain your health, eat and rest. When Moondance returns and is at full strength, your schooling will begin.”

So he did as he was told to do; exploring what Starwind called “the vale” from one end to the other. It was shaped like a teardrop, and smaller than it seemed; there were so many pools and springs, waterfalls and geysers, and all cloaked in incredible greenery that effectively hid paths that came within whispering distance of each other, that it gave the illusion of being an endless wilderland.

It kept him occupied, at least. The vale was so exotic, so strange, that he could lose himself in it for hours - and forget, in watching the brightly colored birds and fish, how very much alone he was.

Half of him longed for the time - before Tylendel. The isolation of that dream-scape. The other half shrank from it. He no longer knew what he wanted, anymore, or what he was.

He certainly didn’t know what to do about Yfandes; he needed her, he loved her, but that very affection was a point of vulnerability, another place waiting to be hurt. She seemed to sense his confusion, and kept herself nearby, but not at hand, Mindspeaking only when he initiated the contact.

Savil was staying clear of him, which helped. When Moondance finally made an appearance, he made some friendly overtures, but didn’t go beyond them; Vanyel was perfectly content to leave things that way.

When he asked, the younger
Tayledras
acted as a kind of guide around the vale, pointing out things Vanyel had missed, explaining how the mage-barrier kept the cold - and other things - out of the vale.

The elusive
hertasi
never appeared, although their handiwork was everywhere. Clothing vanished and returned cleaned and mended, food appeared at regular intervals, rooms seemed to sweep themselves.

When the vale became too familiar, Vanyel tried to catch a glimpse of them. Anything to keep from thinking.

Then he was given something else to think about.

:You fail
,: Starwind said in clear Mindspeech. He was seated cross-legged on the rock of the floor beyond the glowing blue-green barrier, imperturbable as a glacier.
-.Again, youngling.
:

:But
- : Vanyel protested from the midst of the barrier-circle the Adept had cast around him, .
I
- : He was having a hard time shaping his thoughts into Mindspeech.

:You
,: Starwind nodded.
.-Exactly so. Only you. Until you match your barrier and merge it with mine, mine will remain. And while mine remains, you cannot pass it, and I will not take you from this room.
:

Vanyel drooped with weariness; it seemed that the
Tayledras
mage had been schooling him, without pause or pity, for days, not mere hours. This was the seventh - or was it eighth? - such test the Adept had put him to. Starwind would go
into
his head, somehow, show him what was to be done. Once. Then Vanyel fumbled his way through whatever it was. As quickly as Vanyel mastered something, the Adept sprang a trial of it on him.

There was no sign of exit or entrance in this barren, rock-walled room where he’d been taken, and no clue as to where in the complex of ground-level rooms it was. There was only Starwind, his pointed face as expressionless as the rock walls.

Vanyel didn’t know what to think anymore. These new senses of his - they told him things he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. For instance - there was something in this valley. A power - a living power. It throbbed in his mind, in time with his own pulse. He had told Savil, thinking he must be ill and imagining it. She had just nodded and told him not to worry about it.

He hadn’t asked her much, or gone to her often.
If I don’t touch, I can’t be hurt again
. The half-unconscious litany was the same, but the meaning was different.
I’II
don’t open myself, I won’t be open to loss either
.

The
Tayledras
, Starwind and Moondance, alternately frightened and fascinated him. They were like no one he’d ever known before, and he couldn’t read them. Starwind in particular was an enigma. Moondance seemed easier to reach.

But there was always that danger.
Don’t reach; don’t touch
, whispered the part of him that still hurt.
Don’t try
.

There had been a point back at Haven when he’d tried to reach out, first to Savil, then to Lissa. He’d wanted someone to depend on, to tell him what to do, but the moment he’d tried to get them to make his decisions for him, they’d pushed him gently away.

Now - no more; all he wanted was to be left alone.

It seemed, however, that the
Tayledras
had other plans.

Savil had come to get him in the morning, after several days of wandering about on his own, reminding him of what Starwind had said about being schooled in controlling these unwanted powers of his. He’d followed her through three or four rooms he hadn’t seen before into -

-
        
something -

He wasn’t sure what it was; it had felt a little like a Gate, but there was no portal, just a spot marked on the floor. He’d stumbled across it, whatever it was, and found himself on the floor of this room, a room with no doorways.

Savil had appeared behind him, but before he could say anything, she’d just given him a troubled look, said to Starwind, “Don’t hurt him,
shayana,”
and left. Stepped into thin air and was gone. Left him alone with this - this madman. This unpredictable creature who’d been forcing him all morning to do things he didn’t understand, using the powers he hadn’t even come to terms with possessing, much less comprehending.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he cried, ready to weep with weariness. Starwind ignored the words as if they had never been spoken.

:Mindspeech, Chosen
,: came Yfandes’ calm thought,
-.That is part of his testing. Use Mindspeech
.:

He braced himself, sharpened his thoughts into a kind of dagger,
and flung
them at Starwind’s mind.

:Why are you DOING this to me?:

.-Gently
,: came the unruffled reply.
.-Gently, or I shall not answer you.
:

Well, that was more than he’d gotten out of the Adept in hours.
:Why
?: he pleaded.

:You are a heap of dry tinder
,: Starwind replied serenely.
:You are a danger to yourself and those around you. It requires only a spark to send you into an uncontrolled blaze. I teach you control, so that the fires in you come when you will and where you will
.: He stared at Vanyel across the shimmering mage-barrier. :
Would you have
this
again
?:

He flung into Vanyel’s face memories that could only have come from Savil - a clutch of Herald-trainees weeping hysterically, infected with
his
grief; Mardic flying through the air, hitting the wall, and sliding down it to land in an unconscious heap; the very foundations of the Palace shaking -

:No
- : he shuddered.

.-There could be worse
- : Starwind showed him what he meant by “worse.” A vivid picture of Withen dead - crushed like a beetle beneath a boot - by the powers Vanyel did not yet comprehend and could not direct.

:NO
!: He tried to deny the very possibility that he could do anything of the kind, rejecting the image with a violence that -

- that made the floor beneath him tremble.

.-You see
?: Starwind said, still unperturbed.
:You see? Without control, without understanding, you can
-
and will
-
kill, without ever meaning to. Now
- :

Vanyel hung his head, and wearily tried to match the barrier one more time.

Savil ran for the pass-through, in response to Starwind’s urgent summons, Moondance a bare pace behind her. She hit the permanent set-spell, a kind of low-power Gate, at a run; there was the usual eyeblink of vertigo, and she stumbled onto the slate floor of Starwind’s Work Room and right into the middle of a royal mess.

Starwind was only now picking himself up off the floor behind her; there was a smell of scorched rock and the acrid taint of ozone in the air. And small wonder; the area around all around Vanyel in the center of the Work Room was burned black.

Lying sprawled at one side of the burned area was the boy himself, scorched and unconscious.

Moondance popped through the pass-through, glanced from one fallen body to the other, and made for the boy as needing him the most. That left Starwind to Savil.

She gave him her hands and helped him to his feet; he shook his head to clear it, then pulled his hair back over his shoulders. “God of my fathers,” he said, passing his hand over his brow. “I feel as if I have been kicked across a river.’’

Savil ran a quick check over him, noted a channel-pulse and cleared it for him. “What happened?” she asked urgently, keeping one hand on his elbow to steady him. “It looks like a mage-war in here.”

“I believe I badly frightened the boy,” Starwind said, unhappily, checking his hands for damage. “I intended to frighten him a little, but not so badly as I did. He was supposed to be calling lightning and he was balking. He plainly refused to use the power he had called. I grew impatient with him - and I cast the image of
wyrsa
at him. He panicked; and not only threw his own power, he pulled power from the valley-node. Then he realized what he had done and aborted it the only way he could at that point, pulling it back on himself.” Starwind gave her a reproachful glance. “You told me he could sense the node, but you did not tell me he could pull from it.”

“I didn’t know he could, myself. Great good gods -
shayana
, it was
wyrsa
that his
shay ‘kreth ‘ashke
called down on his enemies, didn’t I tell you?” Savil’s gut went cold; she bit her lip, and looked over her shoulder at Moondance and his patient. The Healer-Adept was kneeling beside the boy with both hands held just above his brow. “Lord and Lady, no wonder he nearly blew the place apart!”

Starwind looked stricken to the heart, as Moondance took his hands away from the boy’s forehead and put his arm under Vanyel’s shoulder to pick him up and support him in a half-sitting position. “You told me - but I had forgotten. Goddess of my mothers, what did I do to the poor child?”

“Ashke
, what did you do?” Moondance called worriedly, one hand now
on
Vanyel’s forehead, the other arm holding him. “The child’s mind is in shock.”

“Only the worst possible,” Starwind groaned. “I threw at him an image of the things his love called for vengeance.”

“Shethka
. Well, no help for it; what is done cannot be unmade.
Ashke
, I will put him to bed, and call his Companion, and we will deal with him. We will see what comes of this.” He picked the boy up, and strode through the pass-through without a backward glance.

“Ah, gods - this was going well, until this moment,” Starwind mourned. “He was gaining true control. Gods, how could I have been so
stupid?”

“It happens,” Savil sighed, “And with Van more so than with anyone else, it seems. He almost seems to attract ill luck.
Shayana
, why did you throw anything at him, much less
wyrsa?”

“He finally is willing enough to learn the controls, the defensive exercises, but
not
the offensive.” Starwind put his palms to his temples and massaged for a moment, a pain-crease between his eyebrows. “And if he does not master the offensive - “