Storm Warning

by Mercedes Lackey

  It was also made very clear to the entire Priesthood once Solaris came to power that nonconsensual liaisons, whether they be of opposite or same sex partners, were Anathema, right up there with demon-summoning. You shall force no one, seemed to be the whole of the law as far as Solaris was concerned.

  And as for Karal—as long as this An'desha wasn't looking for a—

  "He's devoted to Firesong," Talia said, as if she could read his mind. "He's going to be a very powerful mage, and Firesong is teaching him. I thought you ought to know about that, too."

  Karal thought about any number of responses, and finally settled on a shrug. She might be implying what he thought, and she might not. It hardly mattered.

  I have had so many things in my life turned upside down, why not this one as well?

  "Good enough," Talia responded, looking cheerful again. "Come on, then, and I'll tell you more about him. If you thought your life was strange, you haven't heard anything yet!"

  Ten

  An'desha might not yet be even half the mage that Falconsbane had been, but he knew an Empath when he saw one, at least. He readily recognized that Gift in the Herald who came up the path to the ekele, black-clad stranger in tow. He thought he recognized the woman, vaguely, though he could not remember her name. Oh, Falconsbane would have loved to get his hands on a female like this one! That was one Gift he had been unable to simulate, and no real Empath would serve Falconsbane of his own free will.

  No point in trying to force an Empath to serve, either. It's a Gift that can't be coerced, though Falconsbane certainly tried often enough.

  He wondered if these were more of Firesong's friends, and at first he was put out at the prospect of yet another invasion of his home. He left his seat in the garden and went outside to meet them, torn between a desire to be polite and irritation at Firesong for bringing more strangers in without consulting him.

  But the Herald brightened when she saw him, and approached with the young man a step or two behind her. "An'desha?" she said (and she gave his name the correct pronunciation, which was a wonder). "You don't know me, but I am Elspeth's friend, Herald Talia. She's told me a great deal about you—and to be honest, I am an Empath, and you haven't exactly been shielding yourself from me, so I've been learning a bit about you from that as well."

  He started; he had not been aware that his emotions had been carrying that far. And when he thought about his predominant feelings since arriving here, he flushed. Mostly tension, unhappiness, even despair—he would not have wished that on any Empath.

  But she was going on. "Elspeth said something about you spending a great deal of time alone out here, and what I picked up from you—well, it seemed to me you might like to try a little company. I thought that you and this young fellow probably have a great deal in common."

  She turned to the young man. "An'desha shena Jor'ethan, this is Karal Austreben, secretary to the envoy from Karse. Karal, this is An'desha, who is an associate of the envoy from the Hawkbrothers." Not only was she an Empath, but she was a skillful one; he felt her exerting her powers to soothe him, and at this point, he was intrigued enough to let her do so.

  He knew who she was, once she introduced herself to him. This Talia was the person Elspeth trusted most in the whole world, even above and beyond Darkwind. An'desha was more than ready to be soothed at the moment; he had tried once again to socialize with the Valdemarans yesterday, and once again had met with failure. Here, though, was an Empath, bringing someone she wanted him to meet. It stood to reason, given her Gift and her expertise, that she just might have found someone he could get along with.

  "I thought you two ought to at least meet," she said to the handsome, dark-eyed, black-haired young man. She spoke slowly and carefully so that he—and presumably, Karal—could pick out every syllable. "I can't imagine two people who have less in common with most of Valdemar. Even Firesong knows more about us and feels more comfortable with us than you two do. I'm sorry I waited this long to introduce you—in fact, I'm sorry I waited this long to introduce myself to you—but I wanted to make certain your mutual vocabularies in our tongue had gotten beyond the basics."

  An'desha had to laugh at that. "That was a good idea. You are probably right, that I feel less at home here than even Firesong," he said, just as carefully. "Although I do not think I would ever fit in with any place or person."

  Just a cautious warning—I hope she isn't expecting us to be instant friends.

  Talia shrugged. "You're probably right, An'desha, but at least Karal is familiar with magic, and he's not afraid of it. That makes him better company for you than most of my people; many of the—how shall I put this?—more reticent folk are afraid of both of you and your magics. Those who are not, or who pretend they are not, tend to be too forward. Oh, let me be blunt—they are obnoxious. They want to know everything about you, and they want to know it now. At least magic is hardly a novelty to the two of you."

  An'desha's eyebrows raised at that. Karal nodded. "My master Ulrich is a powerful mage as well as a Priest," the young man said diffidently. "He was one of those who summoned demons, until the Son of the Sun, Her Holiness Solaris, forbade the practice."

  "Demon-summoning?" Excitement thrilled along his nerves. Perhaps Talia had more in mind than simply introducing two lonely strangers. If anyone was likely to understand his dilemma, it would be one who was familiar with demons and their ilk.

  "He never cared to practice that skill," was all Karal said, but An'desha sensed a great deal behind that statement that Karal did not say. "I, personally, have no magic to speak of. My skills lie elsewhere."

  All the better, so far as An'desha was concerned; the last thing he wanted at the moment was another would-be "teacher." Firesong was quite enough in that department.

  "It often causes more problems than it solves," An'desha offered tentatively. Talia watched both of them with a slight smile on her face.

  Then Karal smiled himself. "That sounds like something my master would say," he replied warmly. "The people here do not seem to understand that, they keep wanting to know what magics can be done to cure this or that—" He stopped himself and shrugged. "Well, I suspect you know."

  "I do," An'desha replied. The corners of his mouth lifted along with his heart; this Talia was right, he and Karal did have a great deal in common, even though their backgrounds were probably utterly opposite.

  An'desha had not realized how hungry he was for a friend until this moment. An Empath as strong as Talia would have to have sensed the need even though he had not voiced it to her—sensed it even past the stronger and darker emotions that his fears for the future had been calling up in him. The fact that she had brought Karal here indicated that she had sensed that same need in him as well.

  This was a good thing; one of the first unreservedly good things that had happened since he entered the Gate to this land.

  "Well, I wasn't able to tell Karal a lot about you, because I didn't want to take liberties that I was not entitled to take, An'desha," Talia told him. "So why don't you explain your situation? Who you are, how you came here, that sort of thing."

  An'desha groaned. "I am not so fluent in your tongue!" he exclaimed, in mock protest.

  But Talia wouldn't hear any excuses. "You are better than you think," she said, as she nodded at the open door to the ekele garden, then raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

  Well, if Firesong could invite people in, so could he! He asked them both into the garden, and described how it had been built—partially to buy himself time, and partially as a way of feeling Karal out. He was more than pleased; Karal's questions were as discreet and nonintrusive as those of the young Heralds had not been.

  Talia quietly absented herself a few moments later, and he and Karal sat down next to the waterfall in the garden. He noticed only because he sensed the absence of her soothing "spell." He doubted that Karal had any idea that she was gone. The gentle gurgling of the waterfall created an atmosphere of peace and privacy; an ideal p
lace to talk.

  By then, Karal was describing his own background. An'desha listened with fascination—sometimes horrified fascination—as Karal explained what the Vkandis Priests had once done to the children, and to the enemies, of their land. While Karal's descriptions were no match for the things that Falconsbane had done, An'desha guessed that at least some of the Vkandis Priests had been well on their way to becoming twins of Ancar of Hardorn, and all under the guise of religion. The only thing they had not done was to poison and drain their own land for further power.

  And given time, they might well have done that, too.

  "That is over now," Karal concluded. "Solaris has decreed the Cleansing Fires and the summoning of demons to be Anathema—that is, completely forbidden, unholy. So, here we are, Ulrich and I, trying to forge an alliance with people we were once at war with. It is—rather unsettling. I was brought up to believe that the people and especially the Heralds of Valdemar were beasts of utter evil and depravity, and now I find that they are—just people." He shrugged. "I have seen so many changes in my lifetime, though, that I expect I will get used to this change as well. What of you?"

  An'desha struggled to find the words to describe his own situation, and decided on the simplest possible explanation. "I was Shin'a'in," he said at last. "Longer ago, I think, than you realize, my body is older in years than it looks. I am—was—linked by descent to an ancient mage, an Adept. A very evil man, as evil as any of your demons. Because of that, he was able to—" What to say? "—to steal my body."

  "Ah!" Karal nodded with complete understanding, the very first time he had seen that statement met with anything other than blank incomprehension. "Possession. That's what we call it. That was one of the powers the demons had, to be able to put on the body of a person as if it was a garment. The Black-robes used that power for ill. But Vkandis also has that power, and can use it with the Priests and sometimes with very holy lay people for good. It is called 'the Voice of Flame,' and Vkandis can use the voice of the person to deliver prophecy. But this Fal-cons-bane must have been a very strong demon to displace you; only the strongest and most evil of the demons had that power." Karal's voice and expression were quite sober. "You are a very lucky person, An'desha. Most people do not survive the touch of a demon upon their souls. You must be very strong as well."

  "You do understand! Though I think it was luck that let me survive." For once he was talking to someone who didn't look at him as if he was half an idiot and all mad. "Strong," "evil," and "demonic" were certainly all words that could have been used to describe Mornelithe. "He had lived in many other bodies, and I still am not certain how I remained alive after he took mine. Perhaps it was because I was a coward and tried to flee instead of fighting him."

  "Perhaps he had grown careless," Karal suggested shrewdly. "Demons are known for their pride, and great pride makes for carelessness. So he stole your body. Then what occurred?"

  "He did great evil with my body, and I could not stop him," An'desha continued, the words tumbling out of him now. "Then he sought to bring harm to my people, and to the Hawkbrothers, and these Valdemarans, all at once. But he was damaged by some of what he had done, and my Goddess sent to me two of her—" Now what Valdemaran word could he use to describe the Avatars? "—two of her spirit-beings. They helped me, a mage called 'Need' helped me, and Elspeth and Darkwind and Firesong helped me, and Falconsbane was cast out after much battle. When it was all over, the Goddess made me look the age I had been when he first stole my body, or nearly, returning to me the years he had stolen from me." Well, it was oversimplified but fundamentally correct. Karal was looking at him with a sober expression on his face, and biting his lip as if he had something he wanted to say but was not certain how it would be accepted.

  "Possession is a great evil, if it is not the Voice of Flame," he said finally. "I think it is a greater evil than even you know, and you were possessed in truth."

  "How do you mean?" An'desha asked, hoping that perhaps, just perhaps, this Karal might have some real answers for him. He might be the only person in this whole country who truly did understand, completely, what had been done to him.

  "Possession can hurt the one possessed," Karal told him earnestly, leaning forward with the intensity of a greyhound about to be loosed for the chase. "It can make deep wounds, unseen wounds to the spirit. It is wounds like these, though they are invisible, that are harder to heal than any physical wounding. Evil corrupts, like the touch of any foul thing; it corrodes, like acid. It can etch the shape of itself into a spirit."

  That was exactly what the Avatars had said! An'desha nodded, not bothering to hide his astonishment. But Karal was still not through.

  "I do not know you well, An'desha," he said, diffidently. "You are not of my faith, you do not swear by the Sunlord, and yet when the Voice of Flame possessed Solaris, Vkandis Himself laid the duty upon all of us to bring the breath of healing to any who needed it. 'He who does good in the name of another god, does it for Vkandis,' He said, 'and he who does ill in the name of Vkandis does it for the darkest demons in hell. Let those of good will bring succor to one another, and dispense with the naming of Names.'" Karal took a deep breath, and An'desha held his, every muscle tight, every nerve singing with tension. "Healing hurts to the spirit is something of what my training is about," he continued. "My master Ulrich knows far, far more than I. There are many who were hurt in this way by the Black-robes that my master and others have later helped."

  He paused, and An'desha nodded, unable to speak. Karal took that as license to continue.

  "I think that you are still in pain and fear, An'desha," he said, as somber as any shaman. "I cannot see you in pain and not offer to help. If it is your will, my master or I can try to help you." He smiled shyly when An'desha did not immediately reject the offer or turn away. "I do not know if we can help you, but I know that we would try. This—healing does not require that you swear by Vkandis—it only requires that you be willing to have it done. Even if we can do nothing, perhaps we can give you the direction to help you heal yourself."

  For a moment, hardly more than the blink of an eye, young Karal was surrounded by a soft, golden glow—as if he sat in the midst of warm summer sunshine. But the waterfall was in shadow—

  An'desha blinked, as he realized that there was something more about this young stranger that he had sensed but had not understood. After his own brush with the Avatars, he had become far more sensitive to those the shaman would call "god-touched." It did not even matter that the god in question was not his own Star-Eyed Lady. There was something about this Karal—a color, or a sense of Light about him—that was a great deal like the feeling he had when the Avatars were near, though it was much weaker. And now—this glow about him was clearly a confirmation of what he had felt. He had sensed similar Light about the Shin'a'in envoy, although he had been far too shy to approach her; she was sworn to the Goddess, marked so by her dark apparel, and he had not had the courage to speak with her after the way he had run off from his own Clan, so long ago. And this feeling Karal called up in him was also identical to the kind of feeling he had when he was around a Companion....

  Whoever, whatever he is, he hasn't made this offer frivolously, or because he wants to impress me. He has something that can help. And Firesong doesn't understand me when I try to tell him what's wrong with me....

  If there is any hint of Falconsbane around me, surely someone like Karal or his master can banish it! And he talks as if he understands the horrible things I've been feeling and the terrible things I've almost done!

  He flushed with embarrassment and ducked his head a little. "Yes," he said softly. "Please. I don't know why you have offered, but—"

  Karal patted his hand, that he had unconsciously clenched into a fist on his knee. "I have offered because it is my—my job? I suppose that is right. It is something I must do, as flying is something that a bird must do. I think I know now why Herald Talia brought me to meet you, if it was not of her will, it might
well have been of the will of Vkandis. She is a Priest, and He can work through her, if He chooses."

  "That may well be," An'desha began. After everything I have seen, I am not about to say that there is anything a god may or may not do! "And—"

  Bells from the Collegium marked the hour, chiming clearly over the sound of the waterfall, and the young man started as he counted them. He said a word that An'desha did not recognize, though he did recognize the tone of annoyance easily enough. "Of all the times—" He shrugged helplessly. "I must go to attend my master at a Council session. Pah! I would gladly have it be some other day, but I have no choice."

  "I understand," An'desha said quickly, and then he grinned. "Council sessions do not wait on the needs of such as you and I!"

  "No, we are only poor underlings to dance to the bells." But Karal's answering smile took any hint of sourness out of those words. "I will return, I pledge you, and I will see what I can do for you then. I will send word when I may come, if that is well with you?"

  "Very well, and I cannot begin to thank you," An'desha replied, rising to escort him to the door. Karal ran off with a backward wave, soon vanishing among the trees and bushes screening the trail; An'desha watched him go with a much lighter heart than he had ever expected to have.

  I have a friend. And there was one other thing, small in the light of all that Karal had offered, but in its way just as comforting. I did not—desire him, except as a friend. He had been afraid that his desire for Firesong was yet another example of how Falconsbane had warped his spirit. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had found Talia rather comely... and Elspeth as well, though she was as intimidating as she was attractive.

  What I feel for Firesong is not of Falconsbane's doing.

  Yes, in a way, that was the most comforting of all.