Valdemar Anthology - [Tales of Valdemar 02] - Sun in Glory and Other Tales of Valdemar

by Mercedes Lackey

  : There isn’t a lot to say about Starhaven,: he said. :Even without Mage-Gift, it’s disturbing to visit a place if you know over a hundred people all died at once there. One night, no signs of struggle or violence. And I would imagine that’s why the adults told us not to go there. . . . :

  :And exactly why you did.:

  :Of course.: He smiled. :Boys will be boys. And something was waiting for us there, in fact.:

  : “Something ”?:

  :As a child I thought it was a ghost, but my adult reason says it was probably just a wandering mage.: He shrugged. :He seemed amused—though I didn’t realize it till months later, when I wasn’t so terrified of the memory. All white robes, bleached hair with what I think were crow feathers in it—looked as much like a bird as a person.:

  : Hunh.:

  Kestric nodded, leaning forward in the saddle. :I think it might have been an outKingdom mage—some of them wear some strange costumes.:

  :What’s so strange about all white?:

  Vess laughed aloud. :Aside from making me a walking target—nothing, really. Ah . . . the marker stone—: He looked down to where a crumbling stone lay to one side of the road, imprinted with the letters for STARHAVEN. :Here it is.:

  The road emptied out into a clearing the size of Solmark. Green hulks that had once been houses shared space with saplings and tender bushes. The place was disarmingly cheery—birds sang in the trees, and there was ample sunlight.

  Kestric stopped three steps “in” and turned his head about as he surveyed the scene. Vess considered dismounting, but decided against it. He didn’t think they’d be staying long.

  :I don’t know why I picked coming here,: he said after a while. :It always struck me—the mystery and the sadness—so many people gone, without any reason, overnight.:

  :You’re infinitely silly, you know that?:

  Vess blinked in surprise at the lighthearted tone in Kestric’s mind-voice.

  :I am?: he said.

  :Sure you are. Vess, you’re a Herald! Of course you want to know what happened here! Not that I think you’ll ever know—these are the Pelagirs. Strange things happen all the time.:

  He nodded. :They do, indeed. Like girls who people think are goddesses . . . :

  :Speaking of which, we ought to go find her.: Kestric tossed his head toward the road. :Neh?:

  Vess was about to give his nonverbal agreement when something pale caught the edge of his vision.

  He turned his head, and there, off to one side amongst the trees that bordered the clearing, stood a pale figure in white.

  For a moment Vess forgot to breathe as the vertigo-sensation of having seen this person before swept him. It was the figure from his childhood—the strange, pale man with feathers in his hair.

  In the next moment, his training took over, and he unconsciously reinforced his shields while simultaneously slipping open his inner eye to look at the man with Mage-sight—

  Nothing.

  Not the power pulses that signaled an illusion, nor the seamless invisibility that someone with very strong and specific shields would have—just wisps of gray must sprinkled with pinpricks of light.

  :What the hells is that?: he yelled in panic, throwing down the mental image of the man’s seeming.

  Kestric swung around and backed up. In the instant he brought his head about, the figure raised a hand and waved—

  And vanished.

  The birds had not stopped singing, and the sun had not gone behind a cloud, but Vess could feel the bumps rise on his arms and a chill rise up his spine. He felt much less safe than he had a few moments ago.

  :Gone?: he heard Kestric say.

  :Damn,: Vess said. :Maybe Starhaven is haunted after all.: He took a deep breath. :And I have exactly enough Mage-Gift to be completely useless toward doing any good, if a Herald of any sort can even help—might be better to find a competent priest.:

  :Might be better to get back to Solmark.:

  :Good idea.: Vess looked around, reassuring himself that—to his eyes—they were still alone. :The sooner, the better.:

  “Heyla—Herald—”

  The voice came from off to the left of Vess as he walked around from the stable toward the Waystation. Looking over, Vess saw an elderly man crossing over to him, a girl in tow—

  The same girl we passed this morning, he thought. What irony, if she turns out to be the one who was the whole reason for my leaving off vacation to come out here.

  “Greetings, sir,” Vess said, bowing slightly. “How can I help you?”

  “I heard you were looking for my granddaughter,” the man said, coming to a stop with his hands on his hips and a grin on his face. “I’m Sevastan, and this is my famous Juni. You need Healing?”

  Well, at least he’s congenial, Vess thought.

  “No, actually, I don’t.” He smiled. “I heard about your granddaughter while I was visiting my mother and—to be honest, I admit to being a bit concerned.”

  “Heh! Came all the way out to this backwater town out of concern? Now that’s something, isn’t it, Juni?” Sevastan looked down at his granddaughter, who was smiling slightly.

  “Sir, if you’d like to talk in private with me?” Vess asked.

  “Well,” Sevastan said, “If you prefer. Juni?’

  “It’s all right,” she said. “I have work to do.” She stood up on her toes and kissed her grandfather on the cheek, then bowed to Vess before strolling off and disappearing behind a house.

  Vess turned back toward Sevastan to find that the man’s outward congeniality had vanished, replaced by a firmly set mouth and cold eyes.

  This is a switch, Vess thought. “Would you like to adjourn to the Waystation?” he asked.

  “No, actually, I want to make something clear,” Sevastan said, all remnants of cheerfulness erased from his tone. “My wife is dead. My daughter died when Juni was only a few months old and my son-in-law died when she was five. I don’t have any family—most of them got killed in Starhaven. Now, I know about you Heralds. You like to take children away from their homes and families. Juni isn’t going with you. She isn’t anything you’d want, and she doesn’t want to leave anyway.”

  The faint smile on Vess’s face felt forced, but he maintained it anyway. He could point out that it was the Companions, not the Heralds, who took away children—and he could point out that Healers weren’t Heralds—but neither point would matter or help. Sevastan didn’t want his granddaughter leaving him, and that was the real issue.

  “You are assuming,” Vess said, “that I have a choice in this matter.”

  “You could choose to leave.”

  “Only if I was assured she wasn’t a danger to herself or those around her. Forgive me for not asking,” Vess said sharply, “but am I perhaps mistaken? Has your daughter been trained by a Healer?”

  “I taught her what I know about herbs,” Sevastan said. “Setting bones, splints, wrapping wounds—”

  “I’m sorry,” Vess said. “That’s not what I mean when I say Healer. What I have heard of your daughter’s skills sounds like she is Healing with a Gift. It’s not the same as applying bandages or ointments.” Vess firmed his mouth. “If it goes untrained, it could wind up killing someone. Wild Gifts inevitably twist in on themselves—they must be schooled. And since he is using hers—”

  “Assuming,” Sevastan interrupted, an edge of annoyance in his voice, ‘that she is using a ‘Gift.’ ”

  Vess resisted the urge to sigh. On one hand, he sympathized with the man over his lack of family—but on the other—

  I think the Crown would not approve of me smacking him upside the head, he thought with bland amusement. Though I’m sure the King would understand. . . .

  “You’re right,” Vess said. “I am assuming—because I haven’t seen her Heal anyone yet. And when I do, I’ll know. Which is why I’m here. Sir—” Vess crammed as much sincere compassion as he could into his voice, “—I don’t want to take your granddaughter away from you. That’s the la
st thing I seek. But you have to understand that this is for her own good. And I wager that once her training is done, the Healer’s Circle would be happy to send her back here—especially since she seems to be needed.”

  “And if she does not have a ‘Gift’ at all?” Sevastan asked, one brow raised. “What if the gods have touched her and are working through her? Hm? Will the priests then be taking her away?”

  “If that is the case—” And it’s bloody unlikely, Vess thought, but I’ll let you have your wishful thinking “—then it’s a matter I will leave to the priests. I have no jurisdiction when it comes to religion.”

  “Very well, then.” Sevastan nodded his head to Vess. “Come by my house at sunset. Marsi is bringing her son Garth by for Juni to attend to.”

  “I’ll see you then,” Vess said.

  Sevastan snapped about, moving off with a stiff, unhurried gate. Vess waited till he was out of sight, then slumped against the Waystation door, pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

  :I’m sure you heard it all.:

  :Oh, yes,: Kestric said with a mental sigh that gusted loudly through Vess’ mind. :I think you did your best, considering that he wasn’t here to listen. And he’s not going to be happy when you confirm what we already know. . . . :

  :That’s his problem,: Vess thought. :If he loves her so damned much, he should move to Haven to be with her.: He straightened. :I’m going to go take a bath.:

  His anger faded as he stalked off toward the public house, giving his mind room to ponder what he was going to do after this evening to get Juni out of Solmark.

  Because just then, that whole idea of Heralds kidnapping children sounded damned attractive. . . .

  “It really is a shame you’re the only one who can hear me,” the woman’s voice said, “because you’re the first person in decades to show up who can, and you aren’t listening.”

  Vess blinked. Nothing but darkness and mist surrounded him and he realized peripherally that he must be asleep. “Hunh?”

  “You still don’t understand?” A sigh. “It seems this sort of naïvete runs rampant with your people. Perhaps you should find one of your so-called Herald-Mages and call them here? The danger you are flirting with is not a normal one. I failed—with disastrous consequences. You cannot—”

  Vess sat up in bed, his heart fluttering rapidly against his ribcage and his mind full of strange dreams. He was, thank the gods, not sweating too badly—so while he was a trifle jarred, at least he didn’t smell like old socks.

  :How was the nap?: Kestric asked.

  :Lousy,: Vess replied, sticking out his tongue. :Another weird dream.: He grasped at the fraying ends of the dream’s memory, but it melted away. :Eh—it’s gone. How are the apples?:

  :You mean how were the apples? Excellent. The slightly mushy ones taste goooood. Tell the publican next time you see him that I really appreciate it.:

  :My Companion, rotten apple eater.:

  :I prefer well-ripened to rotten. And this from a man who likes tripe stew.:

  :Just the one from that inn at Kettlesmith,: Vess said with a smirk. :And no other!:

  :Did I mention it’s nearly sunset, tripe-eater?:

  :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. :

  :What’s wrong?:

  :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.:

  :That doesn’t make any sense.:

  :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 . . .:

  :But she’s not a blood-mage! We would have felt it!:

  :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.

  Something was floating there, hovering above his head—

  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—