“I think the spell he threw at you hit him pretty hard, and he’s gone off to hide and heal.”
“I don’t like that,” Brannon grumbled.
“Me either,” Tallis said. “But it’s very hard to catch people who can Gate.”
Brannon thought about it for a few moments, and then said slowly, “You came to get me after he Gated the first time, with me.”
“That’s because you called me,” Tallis said, although he had no idea how that had actually happened. He just knew that he had heard Brannon’s voice screaming his name, had felt a sudden, sharp pull from where the boy had gone. It had been impossible to not go to him, even had he wanted to resist. “I was able to find you, not him.”
“How?” Brannon asked curiously.
“It’s your voice, I think,” Tallis said, thinking of the way Brannon sang in the temple. It was the only explanation he had, although instinct told him that it was close, but not quite right. “I think that your magic is strongest through your voice. You called and I heard you.”
“I guess,” Brannon said, sounding doubtful.
“Well, what do you think happened?”
“I don’t know.” Brannon looked up at the ceiling. His voice was slow and thoughtful, a bit distant. “I called you and you came . . . just like . . . it was always supposed to be that way.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Tallis said.
“Oh well.” Brannon snuggled closer.
“Are Elder Jaron and the Sheng Yin still here?” Tallis asked.
“Yes. I think they’ve been waiting for you to wake up. Your friends are still here, too. I think your pretty friend might still be in town straightening things out with the local law officers, and Sienna said she was going to clean up the scary man’s temple, tear down the magic on it. Your pretty friend – Calessa? – she had to take care of the soft-voiced man. I don’t remember his name.”
“Owain. Did he treat you all right?”
Brannon nodded. “He said he was sorry he had to keep me. He made Emory promise he wouldn’t hurt me.” The boy laughed shortly. “Not that it did much good. I don’t understand why he was helping Emory. I asked him, too, and he said I’d understand when I was older.” Brannon wrinkled his nose, clearly annoyed with this response.
“I think that means he loves Emory.”
Brannon made a face. “Yuck.”
Tallis laughed. “Life would be much simpler without love, I think.”
“But . . .” There was a pause while Brannon thought this over. “Wouldn’t that be horribly sad and lonely?”
“Yes,” Tallis said, smoothing his hand over Brannon’s hair, although he was fairly sure that Owain was, despite being in love, horribly sad and lonely.
“Oh well.” Brannon yawned, wide enough to split his face.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” Tallis said with a laugh. “And so am I. I think we could both stand to take a nap.”
“Mmmph. All right. I will if you will.” Brannon pressed his face into Tallis’ shoulder.
Tallis nestled down into his pillows. “Good night, little prince.”
Brannon murmured something in response, and Tallis thought for a moment Brannon had called him by a name he had never heard before, but he fell asleep before he could wonder about it further.
* * *
Owain was sitting on the narrow bed when Calessa walked in, his back pressed against the wall. He was reading a book, one of the few things they had allowed him in his small, temporary cell. It was tiny, not even eight feet square, with a heavy wooden door and no windows. The only light came from a tiny lantern that was kept too high for him to reach. Calessa came in with a bag of food she had brought from a local restaurant, and he offered her a genuine smile and greeting.
“I thought you might like this better than whatever stew thing they served tonight,” Calessa said, returning the smile.
“Thank you,” Owain said. He put the book aside and examined the tea, fish, and rice cakes she had brought him. He smiled again and began to eat.
“You’re welcome.” Calessa settled down on the bed next to him, since there were no chairs in the small stone room. “Are they treating you well?”
“Oh, yes. I’m fine.” Owain’s tone was somewhat distant.
Calessa sighed. “They won’t let you go until you agree to help them find Emory,” she said.
“I know,” Owain said calmly, popping a rice cake into his mouth.
“You won’t, will you.”
“Of course I won’t,” Owain said, almost sounding offended that she had even asked the question. “And you knew that before you ever handed me over to the local law.”
Calessa looked away. “I know,” she said, her voice almost apologetic. “But I have to do my job.”
“I know.” Owain gave her an amused smile. “I surrendered, didn’t I? I didn’t want to fight you.”
“Thank you for that.”
“Didn’t want to fight Tallis, either.” Owain let out a low whistle.
“That was very smart of you,” Calessa said, rather unnecessarily. “He was . . . I’ve never seen him so angry. I’ve never heard of him being that angry. Someone would have remembered a display like that.”
“But we all lived,” Owain said with sudden cheer, “so it’s a good day.”
“I guess it is,” Calessa said, half-smiling.
Owain ate in silence for a few minutes, then sipped his tea. “According to the higher-ups here, I’m going to be transferred to a more secure, long-term facility tomorrow. Won’t that be a joy?”
“It won’t be so bad,” Calessa said. “I mean, given the choices. I’ll come visit you whenever I get the chance. I intend to see that you’re well-treated.”
Owain smiled again. They both knew that holding him was technically illegal, since they could not prove that he personally had committed any crime other than the relatively mild one of impeding the Warders’ investigation. But they also both knew that as long as Emory was at large, they would keep him behind bars. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Calessa put a hand on his shoulder. “Despite Emory and what I think of him, I’d like to consider you a friend.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t want to think of you being in prison for life,” Calessa said. “You don’t deserve that.”
“I expect Emory will probably come get me at some point,” Owain said, his voice neutral.
Calessa sighed. “I expect you’re right.” She shook her head at him, frustrated with his cavalier attitude about being jailed with no end in sight. “Why did you do it? You knew he was going to leave you there.”
“At first it was instinct. I thought – ” Owain shook his head a little. “I thought that Tallis was going to kill him. I knew that I could buy Emory some time to escape if I stood between him and you.” He shrugged. “But then he woke up, and just looked at me – and there was this moment of hesitation. He knew that he couldn’t escape unless he left me there.” Owain smiled suddenly, his face glowing with happiness. “He didn’t want to do it. He did it, but he didn’t want to. And that’s worth more to me than anything he’s ever given me. That moment of hesitation – that proof that he does care about what happens to me.”
Calessa listened to this explanation in silence, then shook her head and said, not unkindly, “You poor sap.”
He laughed. “I suppose I am.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re happy, at least.”
“No matter how pathetic it makes me?”
She shrugged. “It isn’t pathetic to be pleased that the person you love cares about you in return.”
“I suppose not.” Owain finished his meal and took a long drink of his tea. “How’s the boy doing?”
“Brannon? He’s doing fine. There wasn’t much wrong with him that some rest didn’t cure.”
“That’s good,” Owain said, clearly relieved. He looked up as a guard appeared outside the door, jangling his keys. “I believe visiting h
ours are up.”
Calessa nodded and stood. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Thank you,” he said, “for not hating me.”
* * *
“Well,” Sienna said, tying her cloak around her shoulders, “it’s been a pleasure working with you, Tallis, Calessa. I’m afraid I have to go rescue my sister Aurelia from the paperwork she’s surely buried in by now.”
“Afraid?” Tallis quirked his eyebrows at her. “You’re looking forward to it.”
“That has no bearing on the situation whatsoever,” Sienna informed him loftily. She clasped Calessa’s hand briefly, and then Tallis’. “Good journey home, my friends.” She turned to Brannon and smiled warmly. “And you, study hard. Be sure to write to me.”
“I will,” Brannon said, smiling back. When Sienna had turned and left, he said, “She thinks she’s really stuffy, but actually she’s pretty nice.”
“She is really stuffy,” Calessa said with a laugh. “But we like her anyway.”
“Are you leaving too?” Brannon asked, a little plaintively.
“Yes,” Calessa said. “But don’t worry – I teach a class at the Academy on etiquette and aristocracy. You won’t escape me.”
Brannon looked skeptical. “There’s a class on how to be nice to people?”
“Sort of,” Calessa said. “Mostly, it’s a class on how to pretend to be nice to people.”
Brannon giggled. “Oh. All right then.”
“I thought you’d like that,” Calessa said. She turned to Tallis and said, “And I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again, since you’ll be visiting Brannon. Maybe I’ll rope you in to teaching the students how to dance.”
Tallis gave her a startled look. “I passed that class by the barest margin, you know,” he said.
“I know,” Calessa said cheerfully. “Good journey, you two.”
With that, she turned and left the monastery.
Tallis looked at Brannon. “Are you all packed?” he asked. “And do you want to say goodbye to anybody?”
Brannon gestured to the single bag at his feet, and the fishbowl beside it in a small magical carrying case. “I’ve got everything,” he said. “And I don’t need to say goodbye.” He turned slightly pink and added, “I said goodbye to the temple and the Regalia, but not to Elder.”
“If you think you’ve said goodbye to who you need to, then I’m fine,” Tallis said with a smile.
“I wanted to bring it with me, but the wrinkly old eggplant wouldn’t let me.”
Tallis chuckled. “It’ll be waiting for you when you get back,” he said.
Brannon made a face. “Not so sure I ever want to come back here again.”
“It’ll still be waiting for you.”
“Well, I suppose that’s all right.”
Tallis smiled down at him. “You’re ready, then?” he asked, and Brannon nodded. “Let’s go.”
* * *
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