“Yes, child?” His voice was vaguely foggy, like he had been sleeping. “Did you have a nice time with that young peacock?”
“Yes. But we were wondering about your book.” She was still having trouble directing her thoughts internally; she wasn’t sure how to push them toward him without yelling.
“Which book?” His voice sounded stronger now. “Why am I getting so many nervous-edgy feelings from you? Has something happened?”
Jenna gave a tiny mental sigh of relief. She hadn’t been sure if Ghortin had complete access to her thoughts and memories. Thankfully he didn’t unless she let him. Life would have been uncomfortable for them both if he were rummaging around in there all the time.
“Nothing’s changed, if that’s what you mean. Although I did see Lord Ravenhearst out in town. Storm and Keanin don’t believe me.” She briefly flashed the image of the person she had seen. Ghortin’s recognition sealed it; it was Ravenhearst all right. “I got to thinking and realized that we should have your gray book. Don’t you need it or something?”
Ghortin’s mind had been expressing concern as to the arrival of Ravenhearst. He grew more concerned when she flashed the book in her mind.
“Lass, I don’t recognize that book at all. You say it’s mine?”
Jenna’s stomach clenched. It never dawned on her that Ghortin might not remember the book. How could someone forget something he’d carried around for months and not forget anything else? She thought mental images of him pouring intently over the book.
“You have to recognize it, you carried it everywhere. Don’t you remember having me work on those two spells right before the ball?”
Ghortin’s confusion grew. “As far as I know, I’ve never seen that thing in my life. But your images are true.” He faded off for a moment, and then came back. “This is a grave concern. If I have forgotten something like that, who knows what else I've forgotten?” An overwhelming fear started to spread throughout Ghortin’s consciousness. He let it flow over him briefly, then fought back and subdued it. But she still felt his unease. His mind had always been his greatest weapon. Suddenly that weapon wasn’t trustworthy.
She was about to try and comfort him when she became aware of being shaken.
“Jenna?” Keanin said worriedly. “Are you all right?”
Jenna shook her head, realizing with a start that she had been leaning over on Storm’s bed with her eyes closed. They must have thought she’d been struck numb or something.
“Yes, I was talking to Ghortin.” Her face went hot. She should have told them what she was doing instead of drifting off like that. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Judging by both angular kelar faces, that was exactly what she had done.
“Ghortin doesn’t remember the book.” A wince from inside her head told her that Ghortin may not have wanted them to know. But whatever was going on, they were all involved in it. Ghortin’s mental lapse was something they needed to take into consideration.
“Well, I’m sure he has lots of books, and besides, that leap to your head may have jarred him,” Keanin said hopefully.
Storm shook his head weakly. “He’s been with this one book almost exclusively. And Jenna is right; he did believe it was connected to what’s happening. But you may be right about the jump loosening his thoughts.” He turned to Jenna. “Does he know why he may have forgotten this?”
“We were discussing it when Keanin shook me. If you give me a second, I’ll see if he wants to talk to you.” She closed her eyes and called for her teacher again. His thoughts were still distracted, but he answered immediately.
“Maybe that would be best.” His voice sounded uncertain, and she could tell it would take a while before he felt settled about losing his memory.
“Hello, lad.” Jenna heard his voice and hers in unison. It was an odd feeling, but at least she didn’t feel quite as blocked out as she had the first time the mage had taken over.
“Ghortin?” Storm said a bit awkwardly. This was his first conscious encounter with the Ghortin/Jenna conglomeration.
“Who else?” Ghortin said wryly. “Don’t answer that. I think it would be best if we didn’t let many people know about my missing memories. We’ll tell Maggie and Dantil. They’re the two best chances we have for getting my memories back, but don’t say anything to anyone else.”
“We’re going to find your body,” Storm said with brutal finality. Jenna knew that soon, healed or not, he was going to find his father and Ghortin.
“I’ve been trying to convince them that others will take care of it and the inadvisability of travel within the next few months.” Keanin looked down at Storm like he was nothing more than an errant child.
Jenna wanted to argue that statement, but had to be content with arguing in her head. Ghortin heard her quite clearly.
“My apprentice seems to argue against your wisdom, Keanin. But I think you’re right.” Jenna’s hand went up to forestall Storm’s angry rebuttal. “You may have to go. But now is not the time to decide. Like it or not, you must heal before we do anything.”
“But what if Jenna’s right and that book of yours holds our answers? Or at least points us in the right direction?”
“That’s a chance we’ll have to take, I fear. An ill-advised trip would be worse than none at all. However, I am concerned with the appearance of Ravenhearst. I never have liked that man, and I can’t think of a single good reason for his being in Irundail. If he was sent anywhere after the attack, it should have been back to Strann.” Ghortin’s mind flitted across ideas far faster than she could follow.
“Keanin, I’d like you to use your connections to find out if anyone knows why the ambassador is here. And don’t be obvious about it.”
The handsome kelar bowed. “Am I ever? Although I can’t think of any reason why he’d be involved in these misdeeds. He’s not my favorite individual, but he’s rather harmless.”
“So he’s let us believe.” Ghortin’s mind was already thinking about other things, and their contact was starting to weaken. “Now, I want you to rest,” he pointed at Storm, “Keanin to spy, and Jenna to study.” He’d almost gone when another thought struck him.
“Do you know if Tor Ranshal and Lord Edgar came through?”
“I don’t think so,” Keanin said. “But I’m afraid I haven’t spent much time in the castle.”
“It could be helpful if they were here.” A subtle touch in her mind told her that he’d gone off again. She sighed.
“I hope you didn’t have any more questions, because he’s gone.” She studied her companions. Keanin wanted no part of any of this. He was a court flower and he liked it that way. Storm still had fight in his eyes, but the wearied lines down his face spoke of his inability to follow through.
“I’ll be up sooner than he thinks,” Storm said. “Are you with me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course we’re with you. But you’re not going anywhere until spring, and neither are we.”
Keanin followed her out. “You heard the lady, rest.”
Storm let his hand fall on the coverlet. It was still the closest he could get to slamming his hand down. But Jenna noticed his eyes were shut before she closed the door.
19
The next month flew by for Jenna. She studied harder than she ever had in her life, even preparing for her final papers in graduate school. Her echo had eventually come back, but it didn’t respond to much in Irundail. Most likely the former mindslave had never been this far north.
Jenna also began training with Armsmaster Garlan. The half-breed kelar-human took to her right away—once she’d proven she had some basic training. She seemed to do best with bow and knife, but was also working on the sword. She shocked the entire castle by designing and using a weight set to help her build strength for fighting and drawing the long bow. Soon, her methods were being surreptitiously copied throughout the castle.
Storm’s strength came back with agonizing slowness. Actually, it was agonizing for him, but Jenna wa
s glad that her friend couldn’t get out of his room. Their visits were strained as Storm’s need for revenge, and his frustration at being physically trapped by his own body, became obsessions.
Keanin had become Jenna’s only stable influence. The flashy kelar was always outrageous and managed to do quite well at lifting her spirits. But he’d found no clues as to the whys of Ravenhearst’s appearance. No one in the castle had seen the nobleman in Irundail, and however he got here, it wasn’t with the rescue beacon. Jenna thought she had seen him twice more, but she couldn’t get close enough to be certain.
“Forget it.” Jenna slammed her fist on the desk. As if injuring herself would make the spell she was working on any easier to learn.
“Now, I told you this wouldn’t be easy.” Like the others, Ghortin’s temper was getting short. He still hadn’t been able to figure out how far his memory could be trusted, so he had to rely on the memories of others and hope he wasn’t missing too much. It was making him more testy than usual. “You have got to hold it steady; if you don’t, the whole thing will blow up in your face. Try it again.”
Jenna growled at her internal tormentor. The lessons had been getting, in her opinion, entirely too advanced.
The one they were working on now, for instance. It was supposed to enable her to stun everyone within a fifty-foot perimeter. Used correctly, it would make a mighty weapon. But one slip up and she could end up turning all that Power on herself. As she found out yesterday, the mildest result of such action was being blasted unconscious and waking up with a headache that went down to her toes. That she was still nursing the remnants of that same headache didn’t improve her spirits. And Ghortin showed no pity at all.
“Look, isn’t there something less dangerous that I could work on?” She didn’t care that she was whining. “My head is killing me, and you said yourself that this isn’t a spell to be taken lightly.”
Ghortin gave a mental sigh. “I usually wouldn’t be so adamant, but I fear that even this spell may not be enough in the times to come. But I suppose a short break is in order. If you kill yourself, I won’t have a home.”
Jenna made a face, but it lost her intended effect since she had to make it at herself. “Thanks for your concern.” She knew before she finished the last word that Ghortin had disappeared into the dark corner of her mind that he’d made his own.
Sighing, she walked out into the bright afternoon sun. Winter had been short and mild and spring already showed signs of coming. She wandered around the garden grounds in no direction, glad to be out of the stuffy cottage.
Ghortin had moved their practices outside when he realized that Jenna’s control over her magic wasn’t as good as it could be. Then he commanded local workers, via the castle household of course, to build them a small workroom cottage when it became obvious that too many people were finding time to sit around and watch the unusual practice sessions.
Jenna was thinking about getting some food when a magical bolt surged through her. It was some distance away, but it still sent goosebumps up the back of her arms.
She spun in a slow circle, trying to determine the location of the surge. It hadn’t felt threatening, but Powerful.
A gentle tug pulled her toward the grassy edge of the terrace toward the Keepers and the cliff walls. She wasn’t the only one who felt the surge; small groups of people began to come out of the castle and the House of Healing. A few mages broke free of their studies and made an appearance, but there were no brown robes of the helaermages among them.
Even Keanin came out, which was a bit of a surprise since he kept adamantly denying any magical ability. Of course he could have simply followed the crowd. The auburn-haired kelar liked to stay abreast of happenings, as long as he wasn’t too close to the center.
“What’s all the ruckus about?” He amiably slipped one long arm around her shoulders.
“I don’t know.” She paused, looking closely at the tall kelar. “Did you feel it?”
He started to shake her off, then frowned, and nodded. “Yes, I did. But you can’t tell anyone, especially not your mental companion. It’s just a tiny bit of ability.”
Jenna started to ask why, then seeing the seriousness in his eyes, she let it drop. She had found out a little about Keanin’s parents. They’d been part of a magic research colony in the Markare. One in which something had gone so horribly wrong that no one had survived. Or survived long at any rate. His mother had dragged herself to Irundail only to die after getting the king and queen’s assurance that they would raise her infant son. Both of his parents had been low-level mages. Keanin didn’t relish any magical tie between himself and what killed his family. Jenna knew he couldn’t suppress it forever, but he’d have to decide when it would come out.
There was movement in the distance. A group of guards and two others had come past the Keepers and was now entering Irundail through the ravine and heading toward the city. The surge of Power that had drawn her was gone, but now her curiosity was engaged.
“Come on,” She tugged her companion toward the roadway down to the town. “Let’s go see what it is.”
Keanin leaned back enough to slow her down; he was slender, but his height gave him leverage. “Why rush? Whatever is down there will come up here in due time. You and Corin are too much alike, always rushing into things.”
“Yes, but they may not let us see what’s going on if we wait.” She continued tugging him.
Keanin sighed and allowed her to lead on.
A mass of curious people was getting to the city level when Jenna and Keanin caught up with them. Castle guards were holding the people back from a battered pair of travelers who were making their way in. Jenna edged her and Keanin forward through the crowd. A bearded guard started to yell at them until he saw who it was. It was common knowledge that mastermage Ghortin was somehow sharing his apprentice’s body. And since most people weren’t sure when he was in there, they tended to treat Jenna with solicitous respect whenever they met her.
“Greetings, my lady.” The guard bowed stiffly. “I hate to bother you, but we have some people who are in dire need of aid.”
Jenna leaned forward to see their condition and pulled back with a gasp. Two barely conscious figures; a tall, white-haired human man, and a short, dark kelar in torn black garb, were being supported on two guard horses. She almost didn’t recognize Tor Ranshal and Sir Edgar in their current conditions, but it was certainly them.
She rushed past the guards, mentally calling Ghortin as she did so. This was no time for heroics. These men needed help and she wasn’t confident enough in her abilities to try it without Ghortin.
“Back already, lass?” His voice was merry until Jenna forced him to see through her eyes.
“What mayhem is this?” The voice was hers, but it was Ghortin who was now in charge. Jenna held back, watching from the back of her mind.
“Greetings.” The bearded guard seemed to know that he was now definitely talking to the mastermage, and his bow was a bit deeper. “We don’t know what happened to them, great one. They triggered the Keepers, and when we went to investigate, we found them collapsed at the foot of the cliff.”
Jenna felt her hand take hold of Tor Ranshal’s. Ghortin was seriously shaken by the condition of his friend, but Jenna was bearing the brunt of it. The mastermage kept all his misgivings locked up with her.
“Tor Ranshal? Speak to me, old friend.”
If Lithunane’s seneschal was disturbed at being called ‘old friend’ by the young woman, he gave no sign. He wearily opened one eye. “Did we make it? Are we in Irundail?”
His voice seemed to stir the battered Sir Edgar into movement. “We’re surrounded. Back. I can still fight.” His voice drifted off, and his battle stance had been little more than a spasmodic jerk toward his empty scabbard.
“Yes, my friend, you’ve made it. With many tales, I’m sure.” Jenna’s body turned toward the captain of the guards. “We’ve got to get them up to Maggie’s immediately. Stand b
ack.” Jenna felt Ghortin gather Power through her. She also felt the workings of a spell with such intricate chaotic weavings that it made the one she’d been working on look like child’s play. Seconds later, a tingle surged through her body and mind. There was a flash of light, and suddenly she and the two injured men were in the middle of the large hall in the House of Healing. There was a momentary delay before Ghortin spoke.
“Are you alright, lass?”
“Yes, I think so. You did a translocation spell, didn’t you?” She didn’t add that he sounded a lot weaker than he had moments before.
“You’re developing an ear for the subtleties,” he said wryly. “I’m afraid I didn’t have time to consult you; with whatever they’ve been through, they wouldn’t have been helped by the blasted long trip up this monolith.”
“You don’t know what’s wrong with them?” She was getting worried at his voice; he was fading fast, and she certainly didn’t want to face all those people and tell them Ghortin had disappeared.
“They are showing blood loss and a few broken bones. Edgar has a grievous head wound that isn’t externally apparent—that’s why I had to get them up here immediately. It will be up to you to find out how they got this way.” He broke their mental contact, speaking to the alarmed healers pouring in from every side.
“Get the Mistress Healer. These men need care immediately.” He grabbed hold of the nearest journeyman healer. “I’m going to be gone for a while, Maggie will understand, the strain was too much. You are to obey my apprentice as you would me.” He was gone before either the startled healer or Jenna herself could respond.
“What would you have us do, my lady?” The healer motioned toward the two unconscious men.
“You heard the mastermage, get Maggie.” She looked around, grabbing two of the largest healers. “See if you can get stretchers for them.” She managed to keep the panic out of her voice; quite a feat since she hadn’t thought Ghortin was going to vanish. Obviously, he’d had little choice. That added still more worry, which she roughly shoved to the back of her mind. One worry at a time.
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