“Yesss,” Hydona replied thoughtfully. “Hunting lesssonsss would be mossst appreciated.”
:Then come along, younglings,: Rris said, trotting off with his tail high, looking surprisingly graceful for a creature the size of a young calf. The gryphlets bounded off after him, with a great deal less grace. Treyvan winced as Lytha crashed into a bush, tumbled head-over-tail, and kept right on going without even a pause. And Jerven was no more coordinated than his sister, blundering through the remains of the bush.
:This is not secret or private,: Vanyel said then, looking at Skif and Nyara, :But—much will be very technical. You may stay if you wish. . .:
“I don’t think so—thank you, but I’m not in the least interested. Really. I think I’d be better off not knowing,” Skif said hastily. “And I wouldn’t have Mage-Gift if you offered it to me. I wouldn’t have it if you paid me Cymry’s weight in gold to take it!”
He glanced at Nyara, who shrugged. Elspeth hadn’t thought she would be interested, and she was not proven wrong. “My abilities are at the level of Journeyman in a school, or so Need tells me. I would be wasting my time with higher magics. The mage who knows how to use simple spells cleverly is just as effective as the Adept with no imagination. I should enjoy simply being with my friends in this lovely place.”
And putting off the encounter with more strangers, Elspeth thought. I can’t blame her, either.
:I’m too old to learn another style of magery without a long time to study it,: Need said. :To be honest, youngsters, there’s things I know you people have forgotten. Simple stuff, but sometimes simple is better. We’ll run along, and you’ll have your conference without me going “What?” every few moments.:
Darkwind snickered.
:Van, I can show them the springs,: Stefen offered.
At Vanyel’s nod, Skif and Nyara followed the little wisp of mist that was Stefen out of the clearing. Firesong came back a moment later, face impassive and unreadable, but eyes sparkling.
“Mother says that this was quite discourteous and inconsiderate of you, even if you are our forefather,” he announced. “She told me to tell you that you are old enough to have better manners, especially by now. The only way she is prepared to forgive you is if you teach me what you did. And how to defend against it, if there is any defense.”
The spirit rippled, and Elspeth got the distinct impression Vanyel was either laughing or stifling laughter. : Very well,: he said after a moment. :It is, after ad, the least I can do. Now if you could make yourselves comfortable. . . .:
That was not difficult to do, here. In fact, Elspeth suspected Vanyel had taken a leaf or two from the Hawkbrothers’ book, and had constructed this place along the lines of a Vale.
The gryphons reclined on the soft grass, and Darkwind and Elspeth used them as backrests. :The first thing I need to tell you about is what I call the Web,: Vanyel said. :I created it because there were too few Herald-Mages left—originally there were four we called Guardians who remained at Haven and kept up a constant watch on the Borders. I changed that; I tied all Heralds and Companions into a net of completely unconscious communication. Now when there is danger in any direction, Heralds with ForeSight who are in a position to alert those who can do something about it have a vision or dream. That’s how everyone knows when a Herald dies. And it’s one way for the vrondi to know where Heralds are.:
“We have done such things, but only for ssshort periodsss of time,” Hydona offered. “Becaussse we did not know how to make it an unconssscious ability.”
:The Companions are the key,: Vanyel told her. :Because they are already linked. I couldn’t have managed otherwise.:
“Hmm.” Treyvan nodded thoughtfully.
:I never meant anything but the Web to have to last as long as it has,: Vanyel continued. :The vrondi-spell has eroded near to nothing, and constant attacks on it from Hardorn are taking their toll. I’m going to have to take it down in a controlled manner before someone breaks it and harms the vrondi in the process. Whether or not it goes back up again will depend on your choices later.:
It was a good thing they were well-fed and well-rested, or Elspeth would have asked for a recess to think all this through. This was not precisely what Elspeth had expected to hear—but it was logical enough. Harm to the vrondi might mean that they would flee Valdemar altogether, and that would cause more problems than taking down the spell would.
“If you remove the warn-off, then mages will be able to enter Valdemar,” Darkwind pointed out, as a light breeze stirred his hair. The breeze was from Vree stooping on Treyvan’s head and crest-feathers, then angling up to perch in a tree and preen. “Many mages, in fact, through Valdemar’s unfortified borders.”
:Precise/y.: Vanyel was clearly pleased. :Now I plan to do several things, besides removing the spell. First, I will need to build a Gate to send you home. This will deplete me seriously for a time, and I do not know how long that will be. I will have to concentrate all my attention on this Border, and I will not be able to even offer such paltry distractions as I did against your Falconsbane—along with the Shin’a’in—to make him think that another Adept was courting him for an alliance.:
Darkwind raised an eyebrow at Elspeth. She nodded; she had already known about the Shin’a’in Kal’enedral being involved. Vanyel’s help was probably why the ruse had been so effective; Falconsbane would have seen the traces of real magic at work and if the suspicion that the Shin’a’in were running a trick on him had even occurred to him, he would have dismissed it immediately, since the Shin’a’in didn’t use magic.
“What about Ancar?” she asked. “He’ll know when that spell comes down.”
:Ancar, yes. And others. You will have to warn your people through Gwena and Rolan that the barrier is coming down. I will do this just before I send you home. That way they will be prepared for magical incursions—although I do not think that Ancar will be able to react immediately. He is disposed toward grandiose plans, and those take time to prepare.:
“Hmm.” Elspeth replied, after a moment of thought. “Even if he’s watching for it to break, he likely won’t have anyone strong there to do anything. He doesn’t trust his powerful mages out of his sight.”
:Once the barrier is down and you are home, there is nothing else I can do,: Vanyel said. :Now, about the new Heartstone in the Palace at Haven. . . .: Firesong looked up alertly, interest immediately captured. :I anchored the power in the stone I used to center the Web. You will find it in the old Palace in one of the old mage workrooms, and it is on the middle of a table that seems rooted to the floor. It is not yet activated, and I left it that way, keyed only to Firesong. . . . :
Fortunately for Skif’s mental comfort, as they left the clearing, Stefen became gradually less ephemeral and more solid, until at last he seemed almost normal—so long as you ignored the fact that you could see right through him. He seemed a cheerful young man, although his hair couldn’t quite seem to make up its mind whether it wanted to be blond or red.
:Here we are—: Stefen announced proudly. :I thought you’d like this place. It’s very romantic.:
Romantic? Hardly an adequate description for a place where trees overhung a mossy cup of a valley, where delicate flowers bloomed at precisely the right spots, and where a tiny waterfall trickled musically down the back wall of the valley, to fill a perfect, rock-rimmed basin just big enough for two if they cared for a little waterplay. In a candlemark or two the sun would be above the trees, warming this valley and the tiny pool.
Skif had the suspicion that Stefen had a hand in somehow creating this idyllic little hideaway, and was waiting for a reaction.
“This is . . . this is lovely,” he said, finally. “I haven’t seen anything prettier even in k’Sheyna Vale.”
Stefen looked pleased as Nyara nodded agreement. :I’ve been training the trees and the plants,: he said diffidently. :Not in the way of a Hawkbrother or anything, but—I’m glad you like it. Van likes it, but he’s rather biased on my be
half.:
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Skif said hesitantly, “Why have you two—you know, stuck around all this time?”
:Gods.: Stefen looked embarrassed. :Responsibility, I suppose. I mean, we finished off magic in Valdemar, and until people were ready to accept Mage-Gift as just one more Gift, someone had to make certain that another wizard-lord like Leareth didn’t come down out of the mountains with a mage-army. Van didn’t trust his barriers against someone with Adept strength. So—: he shrugged, :—here we are.:
“And I suppose you planned on doing something to educate the next Herald-Mages?” Skif persisted.
:Well, only if there was no other way. We hadn’t counted on Gwena getting things mucked up with all her grand plans and predestined paths. If there’s anything that Van hates, it’s a Glorious Destiny.: Stefen chuckled. :If he’s said it once, he’s said it a hundred times. “Glorious Destinies get you Glorious Funerals. ” Anyway, mostly we’re too busy watching for idiot fuzzy barbarians or mages with ambition trying to cross this border to pay too much attention to what’s going on down south. Until Elspeth started flinging levin-bolts around, that is.:
“So you have been aware of that?” Skif asked.
Stefen laughed silently. :I should say, Van couldn’t help but notice, she’s in his bloodline, and he put that other spell on all his relatives so he’d know if anyone was trying to turn them into frogs or flatten them or something. That kind of thing persisted a lot longer than he thought it would, too.:
“Perhaps your Vanyel is a better mage than even he gave himself credit for being,” Nyara observed quietly.
Stefen favored her with a sweet smile. :Once Elspeth started working magic in the Vales, that got his attention and he found out what was going on down there with you folks. He wanted to do something, but he knew his powers were pretty limited that far away Eventually he started helping the Shin’a’in distract that nasty piece of work, Falconsbane. Sent mage winds to break all his windows, then replaced them with red glass, sent him black roses using a firebird as the carrier—we had a lot of fun with that. And the crystal paperweight with the castle and snow. Even ’Fandes enjoyed that.:
“I imagine,” Skif said dryly. “So now what do you plan for us?”
:Well, Van wanted me to talk to you two, actually. He says I’m better at emotional things, and he’s afraid that—well, he knows that you two are not going to have an easy time of it. You know that, but it’s stid just an intellectual exercise for you. You aren’t really prepared for what’s going to happen.:
“It would help. Skif, if you tell me who these people are—or were—” Nyara said plaintively, sitting down on a rock and curling her legs underneath her. Skif took a place beside her. “It is obvious that you and Firesong trust them, but—”
Skif hit his forehead with the heel of his palm. “Oh, hellfires. I’m sorry, Nyara—”
:There wasn’t time,: Stefen reminded him. :Why don’t you tell her, and I’ll fill in what you don’t know.:
:So, there it is. You’ve seen for yourself that the stories about Van and ’Fandes and me being up here in Sorrows are true,: the spirit said cheerfully. :It’s been fun, actually. Maybe there are people who the Havens just won’t have!:
Skif chuckled. Stefen was making it very easy to simply accept all this, acting quite like an ordinary human and not at all like something out of legends. Perhaps he was making a deliberate effort to do so: to Skif’s mind that was a great deal easier than having the two spirits appear, ten feet tall, carrying flaming swords, thundering “Fear not!” There was a vitality and a lightness about the spirit; in fact, there was something about him that kept Skif from feeling worried or anxious when he had every reason to.
For that matter, there was also a feeling of familiarity about Stefen, as if he and the Bard had been old friends of the kind that can say anything to each other, and forgive anything. . . .
“Skif, it seems to me—perhaps I am being forward, but—” Nyara hesitated, then continued as Stefen nodded encouragingly. “What he and Vanyel faced—between them—there is a great deal in common with our situation.”
:I think so,: Stefen agreed. :So does Van. That’s part of why I wanted to talk with you.: He shrugged. :You’d have thought that once we were a pair, everything would have been lovely, but things kept happening that could have ruined it all. He spent a lot of time away from me. Not everyone accepted it. There were always things coming from outside of us that put strains on us, no matter what we did. Things were never perfect for more than a day at a time. Really—I think you would only harm yourselves if you expected perfection. You’d both just be unhappy when you didn’t have it.: Stefen’s attention was all on Nyara. :And there is something else Van wanted me to tell you, Nyara. Your father is not sane by anyone’s definition. What he did to you—wasn’t sane. Insane people do things no one can anticipate. Nothing that happened to you is your fault. You didn’t “deserve” it, or ask for it, or cause it. And what he did was not right. A parent who does that is a monster, and nothing more.:
Skif and Need had been trying to tell her the same things, but it was as if a light had suddenly been kindled inside her. And Skif knew why. This was a total stranger, affirming what people she knew cared for her had been saying. And this was a spirit as well, who presumably had a little more insight into things than a still-living mortal. . . .
He shouldn’t be jealous, just because it was Stefen who brought that light to her face and not him. And he knew he shouldn’t be. But he couldn’t help suffering a sharp stab of jealousy anyway.
:This won’t be the last time you’re jealous, old man,: said Stefen, and he somehow knew Stefen spoke only to him. :She can’t help what she is. There are those who will find her desirable only because she is exotic, and others who will be certain she cannot resist them. She was built for a single purpose, and it still marks her. You have hard times ahead.:
Skif’s jealousy turned to despair; how could he ever hope to hold Nyara once she entered Valdemar and began to meet others? Why should she wish to stay with him? There were people of wealth who had far more to offer than he did. He couldn’t even offer her protection from the curious and the unkind. He was a Herald and had duties; he couldn’t be with her every moment.
:Don’t be a bigger ass than you have to be,: Stefen said sharply. :She loves you, for one thing. And for another— you will likely be the only creature she ever encounters who sees and desires her for her, herself, and not as an object to be possessed. She has had quite enough of that in her life, and believe me, she knows how to recognize it when she sees it.:
Skif blinked as a bee buzzed near his face. He also would have blushed, if Stefen had not resumed the conversation as casually as if he had not interrupted it to talk to Skif alone. :There’s no great virtue in being lifebonded, you know. It’s a lot like having a Predestined Fate; often uncomfortable, frequently inconvenient, usually hazardous.:
Skif shook his head, and waved the bee away. He had often envied Talia and Dirk—how could Stefen say something like that? Wasn’t being lifebonded the ultimate love?
“I thought lifebonding was something to be sought above all else,” Nyara replied dubiously.
:That’s the poets’ and Bards’ interpretation,: Stefen said with a grimace. :It has far more to do with compatibility than with love, and the match is more random than, say—finding two people from different countries with exactly the same eye color. When you’re lifebonded, your choices are limited to the things you both want, because if your lifebonded is unhappy, so are you. It takes two very strong, well-established personalities to make a lifebonded pair work, because if one is passive, he’ll be eaten alive by the other.:
“That doesn’t sound very pleasant,” Skif put in. “In fact it doesn’t even sound—romantic. It sounds like a disease.”
Stefen laughed. :I don’t know about a disease, but it isn’t love, that’s for certain, even though love usually cements the bond. Van thinks that it’s likelier
that someone with an extremely powerful Gift of some kind and a tendency to deep depression will be lifebonded than someone who is not so burdened and hag-ridden. That’s so the Gifted-and-suicidal half has someone outside of himself to keep him stable and give him an external focus. But—all we know is that while it’s rare, it isn’t something to yearn after.:
“To think I’ve envied Talia all this time—” Skif mused. And at Stefen’s puzzled look, he added, “That’s the current Queen’s Own.”
:Of course, the one with all the Empathy! ’Fandes almost swatted her once, when she thought the girl was going to lose all control.: Before Skif could express his surprise, Stefen went on. :I liked her, though—so, she lifebonded? You shouldn’t be too surprised. I’ll bet I can describe her lifemate. Strong, kind, thoughtful, intelligent, tends to keep his feelings to himself, the kind of man everyone knows they can depend on. Little children and animals love him immediately.:
“That’s Dirk!” Skif exclaimed.
:So, that illustrates my point. Love now—a good, solid love is something infinitely rarer and more difficult to maintain, because you don’t know everything your partner is feeling. Love takes work. Love means being able to apologize and mean it when you blunder. Love is worth fighting for!: Stefen sounded absolutely fierce. :One of the very things that made what Van and I have a lovematch as well as a lifebonding was that we were so different. It is like a marriage—you marry who you think your beloved is, and then discover who they really are over the years. It’s that discovery that makes a marriage work.:
:We did have things in common, lots of them, but you would never have assumed that from first seeing us. It made hunting and finding them all the sweeter. And it gave us chances to introduce each other to something new. You two have that same opportunity. Van and I took pride in being different—we enjoyed the diversity to be found among people of all kinds, and we enjoyed the diversity in the two of us.:
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