Valdemar Anthology - [Tales of Valdemar 02] - Sun in Glory and Other Tales of Valdemar (21 page)

:Crumbs. And I was so looking forward to a graphic description of rotten apples. Thanks for the reminder.:
Vess rose from the bed.
:Let's see what we see.:

 

He got back to the Waystation sometime after sunset and immediately walked into the stable—built for Companions, so it was wide enough for him and Kestric to stand in together—and sat down on the stool in one corner of the stall.

Vess put his head in his hands and curled the tips of his fingers in his hair.

:Are you going to talk now?:
Kestric asked.

Vess took a deep breath, inhaling the dusty scent of hay and leather.
:This day couldn't have been stranger if the gods themselves had tried. :

:She's not a Healer.:
Vess looked up at Kestric, meeting the faintly luminescent blue eyes of his Companion.
:I looked at her while she was Healing the boy—and it's not Healing Gift she's using.:

:Maybe this will help,:
Vess said, drawing up the mental image of what he'd seen and tossing it down the bond. Juni—eyes shut, hand out and glowing faintly red to Vess's Mage-Sight. The edges of her patient's lacerations drawing together and sealing up, the trickles of sweat dripping down the sides of her face.

He followed up the wordless report with the “signature” of the power she had been using, exercising his limited Empathy to give Kestric the full experience.

Then he waited.

:That's . . .:
Vess Felt Kestric recoil in disgust as the Companion took a step back in the stall.
:That's blood-magic! She's using it to reshape the flesh!:

Vess nodded.
:I wasn't sure of it, but if you think so, too . . .:

:She has the Mage-Gift—and it
is
active,:
he said soberly.
:She also has Empathy and Mindspeech—gods, she's just like
me.
Except her other two Gifts are dormant. She doesn't even have Healer potential, Kes. And worse . . . something happened to the boy after she “Healed” him. It's like a bloodstain on his soul, and his mother's just the same. I took a look around the village before I came back. Just about
everyone here
has the same marking.:

:Oh, hellfires.:
The Companion flared his nostrils.
:We need a Herald-Mage.:

:I know.:
Vess rubbed his nose.
:It just doesn't seem to make sense, though. I don't pick up the least bit of malevolence from her. Something doesn't fit. How is she doing this? Why is she doing it? Is it possible to do blood-magic without knowing you're doing it? Or does she just have one hell of a shield around her?:

:That,:
Kestric said,
:is what I'd like to know.:

 

Vess opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling.

And then he
really
woke up, and realized that his mind was once again playing tricks on him. There was nothing on the ceiling but shadows, and no one in the room but him. He was alone.

And maybe that's my problem,
he thought suddenly.
Too many goddamn years in the court with an empty bed and fewer friends than a mean drunk. Just working day in and day out, waiting for the next crisis to strike.

And wasn't that the whole point of taking leave in the first place? I could have told Herald Becka to find another person with Mage-Gift to investigate Solmark, but no . . . I went instead. If it's not trouble finding me, it's me finding trouble.
He grimaced.
I'm pitiful.

He pulled himself out of bed and into his clothes. A brush to Kestric's mind found him to be sleeping, and Vess didn't see a reason to wake him. In the distance, he could hear the sound of the Solmark gate raising. He waned to walk, and think, and for once really, truly be alone. No people, no Companions—just him and the forest.

It wasn't healthy to go walking in the Pelagirs alone, but the same could be said for parts of Haven, as well. Picking up his sword from the table where it lay, Vess stuck it into his belt, and set off to be by himself.

It took longer to get to Starhaven on foot, and this time he approached it with the caution it deserved. He stood silently at the entrance, peering about once with his regular pair of eyes, then again with Mage-sight. When he was certain things were safe, he walked into the center, pulled the sheathed sword out of his belt, and sat down.

If I'm going to go looking for trouble,
he thought,
I might as well go all out.

But after a while, when the birds kept singing and the sunlight grew warmer, he found himself relaxing. He lay down in the grass, the sword on his chest, and stared at the one cloud in the sky above him, shaped like a fist.

How long,
he thought,
since I've just watched clouds?

The answer came easily:
Since Nadja got sick. Since I started worrying the Companions might make me the next King's Own. Oh, gods—if there's one thing I
don't
want . . . I don't
care
if I'd be good at it, I don't want that job!

He sighed.
But if I had to, I'd do it. And we all know it.

“Herald?”

He hadn't heard her walk up, but he knew the voice, and he recognized that it was close. Sitting up and letting the sword fall into the crook of his left arm, Vess looked over to see Juni walking toward him.

“Good morning,” he said with a smile. He had acted as if nothing unusual had happened last night—making the (true) excuse that he needed to think about what he had discovered. He was pretty sure that she didn't suspect anything.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I visit here a lot,” she said. “Especially early.” She paused, her mouth half open, then took a step forward, saying, “You seem . . . troubled.”

He smiled. “A lot of things on my mind.”

“About me?”

He shook his head. “No, not you.”

She cocked her head. “What about?”

“The court. The King. My duty.”

She widened he eyes. “You know the King?”

He nodded. “Sure. I'm one of his counselors—I know quite a bit about court life.” He winked. “That's my curse.”

She smiled. “Is the Palace nice?”

“It can be.”

She nodded. “This place must be strange to someone like you.”

“It would be, except that I was raised not far from here. My mother is Lady Baireschild.”

She widened he eyes again. “My Lord—”

“No.” He raised a hand. “Dropped the titles when I got Chosen.” He grinned. “Never liked them much, anyway.” He felt the smile fade. “You're a very nice young lady, Juni.”

She bowed her head, blushing a little. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He stood, stretching, and brushed grass out of his hair and off his shirt. Then, dwelling on that last comment to her, he opened his inner eye and reached out to her—

The red-black energy he had witnessed around her just last night was gone. He pressed further, delicately snaking past her natural defenses. Her three Gifts were still there, but now he saw that there was something more—something like the “bloodstain” he had seen on the people of Solmark—only deeper—

Something slammed into him, an unseen force that lifted him into the air and threw him back down to the ground in a pain-stricken sprawl. He blinked stars out of his eyes and tasted blood in his mouth—before he'd been hit, though, he'd Felt a surge of magic coming from nearby.

:Chosen!:
he heard Kestric's panicked call.

:I'm not dead—yet,:
he thought dazedly.
:Get out here, quick. Something's not right.:

He rolled over, shaking his head to clear it, and for a moment all he saw was a pale, frightened Juni—

And then he saw Sevastan. Sevastan—but not Sevastan. Even when the man had been curt yesterday, he hadn't looked this—malevolent. The set of his mouth, the shape of his eyes, the way he held himself—little pieces that amounted to a startling, sinister change.

A different person was standing before Vess. One look in his eyes revealed that.

“It is unfortunate,” Sevastan said, “but necessary. I meant it when I said I can't have you taking her away.”

The blow had thrown off Vess' internal balance—he was seeing double, the physical world layered under his Mage-sight. Sinuous red tendrils wrapped Sevastan's arms, gathering in pools in his hands. A cord of red power, like a leash, dripped out of his left hand and connected to Juni, and from Juni spun out hundreds of thin red threads, pulsing in time with a heartbeat of their own.

Everything fell into place with painful clarity.

He's
the blood-mage,
Vess thought in shock.
Not her. She has Mage-Gift—he's working
through
her and disguising it as a “Gift”—good gods!

Sevastan raised his arm and shouted something, and a black levin bolt cracked through the air toward Vess, who threw up his arms in a pitiful mockery of defense.

Inches away from him, it disintegrated in a shower of sparks as it hit invisible shields.

Vess blinked in surprise, then blinked again as a pale white form faded into sight beside him.

:I can't keep this up,:
a vaguely familiar female voice said into his mind.
:If you have a plan, use it.:

“Well,” Sevastan said, his attention shifted off Vess. “This is unexpected. Didn't I kill you?”

Vess heard the female voice answer with flat emotion,
:By your own hand we are entangled, mage. I do not die if you do not die.:

Sevastan laughed. “A complication I will swiftly amend,” he said, raising his hands again—

Vess didn't give him a chance.

Dragging up his mental energies, he split open his shields, threw his mind at Sevastan—

And
screamed
inside his head.

Years of anger, frustration, and disgust broke out of Vess, his Empathy fueling the raw violence of his attack. Months of watching Nadja die by inches in her bed—months of sitting with the King as he quietly went to pieces with the agonized guilt of the latest Herald he'd had to send off to possible death or worse. Years of court deception, petty politics and subterfuge—deceivers and backstabbers with smiling faces and no concept of the pain they caused.

Tragedies. Sorrows. Pain. The struggle to keep from being beaten down by the very people he tried to help.

And past that, the certainty that the
thing
he was fighting was the same
thing
that had killed Starhaven, the thief of life.

The mind-blast broadened and changed to incoherent rage. Lost in the blinding power he had given himself over to, Vess's world dissolved into a solid sheet of fury, and evaporated.

“Herald.”

Vess blinked, finding himself elsewhere. Not Starhaven, not Solmark—not the Palace or his mother's manor. He was somewhere where his Whites seemed to glow with their own light, and everything was the gray of twilight.

“Herald,” the voice said again, “I want to thank you.”

Vess sat up, and saw a man standing over him, his face in shadows but his hand extended out to him.

“All my life, I've been that wizard's puppet,” the man said. “He used me to destroy Starhaven, and when he realized that I wasn't a suitable vessel for his power, he worked through my daughter and grandchild for the same. I'm sorry, Herald. Please know that anything I said to you—the mouth and the voice were mine, but the words were his.”

“Sevastan?” Vess said, reaching up to take the man's hand. “What—”

“Take care of my granddaughter, Herald,” Sevastan said as his warm, dry fingers closed around Vess' hand. “Please let her know that even with that bastard's hand on my mind, I tried my best to love her.”

Vess came around to too-bright sunlight. The aura of a reaction headache was building behind his eyes, and he tasted copper in his mouth.

“I'm alive,” Vess said, his voice feeble. “And sweet Kernos, how I wish I weren't.”

A sob cut the air and, grimacing, Vess climbed to his knees, fighting nausea and dizziness. His hands were shaking and his skin felt clammy. He had definitely overextended himself.