Chapter Text

“We’ve got a problem,” Savil said, swaying in the door to Lancir’s quarters, fidgeting with the belt of her rain-dampened sleeping-robe. It was well after midnight, closer to the early hours of the morning, and every candle in the room was still lit. She hadn’t even had the energy to put her boots on, not after having been roused from a sound sleep barely a quarter-candlemark ago; she had run all the way here through the mud in her slippers.

He looked up from the armchair where he had been going through a pile of papers. “What?” he said vaguely. “Oh, it’s you. Which problem are we talking about right now?” He looked terrible, she thought. There were deep, bruised-looking shadows under his eyes, and the lines across his brow and around his mouth were deeper than they had been a week ago; the skin of his face looked loose, somehow. None of us are young anymore, she thought, we haven’t got the stamina we used to.

She crossed the room and sat down on the padded chair across from him. “Vanyel’s Gifts.”

“What about them?”

She sighed. “Exactly what I was afraid of. He’s got no control, and it’s only getting worse now that he’s waking up a little. I had to leave him with Mardic and Donni holding shields, just so I could get some sleep – and he had a nightmare or something and wrecked all the furniture in his room, set fire to his own bed, cracked the floor, and came very close to bringing the roof down as well.” She took a shuddering breath. “Gets worse. Mardic tried to wake him and Van mindblasted him, knocked him right out. Then he went into convulsions. Andy thinks he tried to pull the attack back on himself when he realized it was Mardic and not, I don’t know, whatever he thought was after him in his nightmare.”

She’d caught a few fragments of whatever he’d been dreaming, she thought, intruding into her sleep before his screams woke her – he had been projecting right through all the shields they could keep on him, and her own personal shields as well. She remembered bitter cold and blowing snow and facing some nameless danger, alone– Shaking herself, she tried to regain the thread of her thoughts. It was hard to tell if she was even making sense. “Andy got there after a few minutes and threw a bucket of water on him, that brought him out of it, but the whole thing wore him out, and it could happen again any time.” He was still so weak, physically; it wouldn’t take many more fits like this to push him over the edge.

Lancir watched her, waiting to see if she was finished. “Is Mardic all right?” he said finally.

“I think so. He says so, anyway. Made it back to his room on his own feet.”

The Queen’s Own nodded. “All right, so Vanyel’s Mage-Gift is definitely a problem. Any others?”

She shrugged. “I could wish he didn’t have Empathy. He’s projecting his pain and grief so strongly it’s even getting through my personal shields, I can barely stand to be in the same room. Gods, I don’t want to think about how much he’s picking up from us.” It wasn’t like they were going around thinking happy thoughts either.

Lancir was nodding slowly to himself. When she finished, he looked up, one hand slowly rubbing his chin.

“What about your Work Room?”

“What?” It seemed like a complete non-sequitur for a moment, but then she actually thought about it. “Oh. I see. There’s more than enough shielding, he won’t be able to project past it, or shake the rest of the Palace around.” Or pick up their thoughts from outside, which meant she could afford to be a bit less careful with her own shielding. “That’s a good idea, Lance!”

Lancir ran a hand through his hair. “It’s only a temporary solution. We’ll have to find a way to keep it warm. And won’t it block him off from Yfandes? I know she can’t have a very strong bond with him yet, but she’ll be trying all she can to help, and she won’t like that.”

Savil thought for a moment. :Kellan, is that true?:

Kellan had been listening in the back of her head; he was there most of the time these days, adding his strength to hers, the only thing keeping her going. :I’m afraid so, love. I can’t feel you at all when you’re in there:

:Hmm. The door opens from outside of the suite. I don’t figure it’s big enough now, but if we could somehow make it bigger, would she be willing to be inside with him? I know it wouldn’t exactly be comfortable for her, and it’d cut her off from the rest of the Companions…:

A pause. :She would be ecstatic, Chosen. To be in the same room as him? It’s driving her wild not being able to touch him:

Which made sense. Early on, physical touch was incredibly important to the developing bond.

“I have an idea,” she said out loud. “I figure in a few candlemarks, we could enlarge the door on my Work Room without affecting the shields. It sounds like Yfandes would be happy to be in there, if we could make her fit.”

Lancir laughed out loud. “I would not have thought of that! I don’t know why not, though. It’s definitely worth a try.” He looked at the time-candle. “We can’t start now, but I can send in some workers first thing tomorrow, and I’m sure Kilchas would be happy to help you out with magic.”

Savil felt herself smiling, her first real smile in days. “I didn’t expect to walk in here and find a solution!” She sighed. “I’m still worried. I really don’t like the emotions I’m picking up from him.” That he was blasting into her head, rather, it wasn’t like she was trying to read his mind! “He thinks it’s his fault ‘Lendel’s dead. He really doesn’t want to be alive; I’m pretty sure he thinks he deserves to die. And his nightmares – I wouldn’t be in his head for anything, Lance. I... Is this normal?”

He looked flatly at her. “Normal for a broken lifebond? Savil, I don’t think we know what’s normal, because I’ve never met anyone who survived it.” He looked away. “If it weren’t for Yfandes, I would wonder if we did the right thing, pulling him out of the river.”

She flinched away. “I don’t know what to do.”

Lancir sighed. “Don’t leave him alone, ever; make sure there’s always someone there to watch him. Yfandes might be able to help. Other than that, I think we just have to wait and see.”

She tried to meet his eyes again, imploring. “Do you think you could try to help him? I know you’re really stretched…”

“I don’t know if I can do much, at this stage. It’s a lot harder for me to work around physical pain, and I think that’s a lot of his problem right there. Think of the worst reaction-headache you’ve ever had – would you be able to even hold a conversation?”

“Ugh. No.”

“You see what I mean? I need him to be able to hold a thread of thought, or I’m very limited in what I can do. I’ll see if I can free up some time, though.”

“Please. It would mean a lot to me, Lance.”

“I know.” He smiled crookedly. “He’s all you have to remember ‘Lendel by. Isn’t he?”

“I–” She reeled. Was that it? “Maybe you’re right. Gods. I don’t know – I was coming to like him a great deal, on his own merits. He handled the whole mess with Staven better than I would have expected, and the less he hid under those masks of his and the airs he would put on, the more I got to know the real Vanyel...well, he has a good heart, for all that he was terrified to let anyone see it.”

The Queen’s Own smiled gently. “Oh, I believe you. Yfandes did Choose him, after all. Just…I don’t want you to mistake where your feelings are coming from.” His blue eyes seemed to pierce her. “You miss him a lot, don’t you?”

She blinked away fresh tears. “Lancir, please… Don’t be a Mindhealer at me right now.” I don't have time or energy to grieve. She hauled herself to her feet. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll ask Kilchas.”

Savil leaned against the stone wall of the Work Room, both hands around a cup of tea. It was still raining; she held a mage-barrier over Kilchas’ head, helping him stay dry while he and two Palace stonemasons worked on the door. Kilchas whistled cheerfully. It was grating and she wished he would stop – but it wasn’t like she could ask everyone else to be as miserable as she was.

It was the fourth day since Tylendel’s death, and it had started to really, truly sink in that she was never going to see him again. Damn it but she missed him; it was a constant ache in her chest. Oh, ke’chara, why? A question that had no answer.

Vanyel had survived another night. She knew his condition was still precarious – but if he could have Yfandes with him, if they could give him that one thing, maybe that would be enough to get him through. Herald-Mage Justen was holding shields on him right now; he seemed happy enough to help, unlike Deedre, who had been very sour about it. Savil didn’t think she would be asking any of them again once they had the shielded room ready.

The builders waited as Kilchas raised his hands and carefully knocked out another marked block of stone. He came over to her as they dragged over a ladder to sand the edges smooth.

“Holding up all right?” he said, leaning on the wall beside her.

“Busy. Tired.”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

She looked away from his concerned gaze; what was she supposed to say?

“Look on the bright side. At least Mardic and Donni are all right. And your nephew ended up Chosen. That’s a bit of a silver lining, at least?”

She stared blankly at him. Damn it, did he not understand at all? She forced herself to bite back her angry retort before it could escape – it wasn’t really Kilchas’ fault, he didn’t know all the details. Didn’t know the boys had been lifebonded, so he couldn’t know what Van was going through right now.

Neither can I, she reminded herself. There was an ache in her throat and her eyes burned.

Kilchas, seeming to realize he had said something wrong, shuffled his feet, then nodded without quite meeting her eyes and went back to help the builders with the next block.

“Van, we’re almost there,” Mardic said, trying to keep his voice level despite the strain of holding a shield, walking with one hand on Vanyel’s shoulder as he lay in Andrel’s arms, wrapped tightly in blankets against the damp autumn chill. “Andy, can we go faster?”

“Would you rather I dropped him?” Andrel snapped. He was placing his feet carefully; to be fair, the ground was a slippery morass of mud, despite the mage-barrier Savil was holding above their heads, rain falling on sheets on all sides of it.

“Put a little more into your shield, Mardic?” Savil prompted. “I’m picking up leakage.”

“I’m trying.” He blinked back tears of frustration – damn it, Vanyel’s emotions were getting to him as well. “He’s projecting really hard, okay?” He didn’t understand how; Vanyel was barely conscious.

“Donni! Door!”

Donni scrambled ahead of them and pulled the new, enlarged door open.

“All right, let’s do this fast. Don’t let the heat out.”

They negotiated the doorway, and Savil closed it behind them. “Everyone reinforce their personal shields. Mardic, go ahead and drop it.”

He sighed with relief and released the shield – and winced as a diffuse sense of wrongness flooded through him, along with the ghost of a throbbing headache.

Andrel’s boots left muddy footprints across the stone – well, it would be easy enough to clean later. “Help me get him down,” the Healer said, and Mardic squatted next to the fold-out cot they had dragged in, and helped support Vanyel’s head as they lowered him onto the mattress. Lissa, who had been waiting for them next to the cot, grabbed the pile of heated wool blankets they had readied, and shook one out before throwing it over her brother.

Mardic turned and found himself looking into two enormous blue eyes. “There you go, Yfandes,” he said softly.

She whinnied and jerked her head, and he scooted out of the way so that she could move forward and lay her muzzle across Vanyel’s legs. A few seconds later, he couldn’t feel Van’s godawful headache anymore; Yfandes must have put her own shields on him. Maybe he wouldn’t fight her so hard.

Savil let out a sigh. “That’s much better. Good job, people, that went smoothly.” She slumped against the wall, relief in every line of her body.

Mardic shivered. Despite the heating-spells, it really wasn’t that warm in here.

Savil noticed. “Damn it.” She raised her hands, and he felt the currents of her power moving. “That’ll have to do. Keep him bundled up, I guess. Andrel, are you all right to get him settled? Jaysen wants me at a meeting in ten minutes.”

“That’s fine.” Andrel sat back on his heels. “You know what’d be useful in here? A table.”

“Maybe something to sit on, too,” Lissa chimed in. “While we’re making a list.”

Mardic looked around the room. It did look extremely bare. And poorly lit, with the door closed and no windows, there were only the two candles in sconces on either side of the door. Not exactly a happy atmosphere; it wouldn’t help Vanyel’s emotional state any, he thought. He dug into his reserved energy and sent a mage-light to the ceiling, feeling the strain of it; Savil could manage this a lot more easily, with her stronger mage-gift.

Gods, Van, I hope this helps. It had to help, right? He had his Companion with him, now. That would be enough, wouldn’t it?

The thought wasn’t as reassuring as he might have hoped.

Savil settled awkwardly into the chair next to the bed. “Heya, Tran.” She’d been meaning to visit him for two days, and been putting it off – she hated the atmosphere in this part of the House of Healing.

His eyes moved to her, slightly unfocused; he licked his lips and started to speak, then gave up. :Heya, Savil: She could feel the overtones of pain and drugs, but his thoughts were clear enough.

:Feeling better?: He had been barely conscious last time she saw him, when they had carried him through Jaysen’s Gate, so this was an improvement. He looked awful, though; the few patches of skin not covered by bandages were blistered, red and shiny. She couldn’t imagine the agony he must be feeling.

:Could be worse. My hands sort of work: He lifted one arm and wiggled his bandaged fingers, then lowered it back to his side. :I’m sorry about Tylendel: There was a waft of complex feelings there, that she couldn’t quite unpack; well, she couldn’t blame him for feeling conflicted. The Healers still weren’t sure if he would fully regain the use of his hands, and she couldn’t deny it was thanks to what Tylendel had done.

:It wasn’t your fault:

She flinched. He meant well, but goddamn it, why was everyone so determined to reassure her of that? :Tran, I don’t want to talk about it:

:Sorry: He did feel genuinely distressed.

:It’s fine: Now she felt guilty. He was a good kid, really, he didn’t mean any harm.

There was an awkward silence.

:I heard your nephew was Chosen?: Tran sent tentatively. :That’s exciting:

She resisted the urge to drop her head into her hands. :Not especially: She knew her mindvoice had come out sharper than intended, but she was tired of people asking and she didn’t want to go into it again.

:Oh: She could tell that he had no idea to respond. :How are Mardic and Donni?:

That was a safe topic. She switched to spoken words, because she didn’t want to leak what she was feeling to him; he didn’t deserve that. “Well enough, thank you. It was hard for them, being separated, they were very happy to see each other again…”

Midnight. Savil had snatched a few hours of sleep, but she had asked Kellan to wake her; someone had to take over from Lissa, who had been there all evening. Andrel had offered, but he had to be back at the House of Healing at dawn tomorrow and she had told him to get some rest. Her mind felt sticky with exhaustion.

She stood outside the Work Room door, steeling herself. Gods. She really, really didn’t want to go in there. Even semiconscious, Vanyel could project his emotions right through her shields – and, gods, she was hurting enough, she missed ‘Lendel as well, she really didn’t want or need to know how much pain he was in.

:Kellan: she reached out, not with any particular question or request, just wanting to know her Companion was there.

:I know, love: She felt Kellan’s worry. :You’re worn out. You’re down to the dregs of your reserves, it does take energy to shield, and you can’t tap any other sources in there: A pause. :I can spare something:

She took the mental link and the energy that came with it, feeling it fill the emptiness in her – soothing, not scorching like node-energy, and almost as good as sleep. Kellan had only helped her like this once or twice before, usually in dire situations; she thought it might be one of those things Companions weren’t really supposed to do. They were awfully cagey about the limit of their abilities, and she’d given up questioning it.

:Thank you: Deep breath. You can do this, Herald. She reached to open the door.

The knock startled her out of a doze. She didn’t know what time it was; the early hours of the morning, probably. She had been trying her best to stay awake, occupying herself by reading a book, but she couldn’t concentrate and she kept nodding off. Vanyel was finally quiet. The first candlemark had been awful; in the throes of another nightmare, he had set fire to the sheets and reduced one of the wooden stools to kindling by flinging it into the ceiling. And blasted her when she tried to wake him, her shields had caught it but her ears were still ringing a little.

“Come in,” she said wearily, lifting her chin from her chest. Ow. There was a crick in her neck, and she ached all over.

The door opened. “I’ve been looking for you all over, Savil,” Jaysen said. “What are you doing in here?”

“Keep your voice down. And don’t just stand there, come in and shut the door.” She sat up straighter, groaning at the pins and needles in her bottom.

He obeyed, looking around with a sour expression.

“What do you want?”

He held out a sheaf of papers. “Can you look over the budget with me? Elspeth wants a draft by tomorrow.”

“Dammit, Jay.” Her irritation bubbled over into anger. “Does this really seem like the time?”

“I thought–”

“I don’t care what you thought! I’m tired, and I want to go to bed, and the last thing I want to do is look at the stupid budget for you!”

On the cot behind her, Vanyel stirred and moaned. She swore and pressed the heels of her hands to her face, taking deep breaths and pouring more energy into her shields. Please go back to sleep, I can’t deal with you right now, please… She really hoped that thought hadn’t leaked out.

Jaysen cleared his throat. “I… I’m sorry. Listen, I just– I’m worried about you. Isn’t there someone else who could sit up with him?”

“Not really.”

“What about Kilchas? He was helping out, right?”

She massaged her forehead. “I’m not asking him to stay up all night.” That was the trouble; she didn’t feel comfortable asking anyone else to take that on. Lissa would be willing, but she had already spent the whole evening with Vanyel, and she wasn’t Gifted and couldn’t shield – Savil was leery of leaving her there without backup.

Jaysen hesitated, chewing his lip. “I can do it,” he said finally.

“It’s fine.”

His brow furrowed. Confusion, frustration, offence, she couldn’t tell. “Savil, you’re trying to carry all this on your own. You wouldn’t even let me hold shields on him, before. I don’t understand.”

She sighed. There were things she hated to say out loud, but... She switched to private Mindspeech. :Jay, love, I know you don’t like him that much. Gods! Mindspeech gets messy enough when everyone’s trained in the shielding and protocols and we can all be grownups about it and pretend we didn’t hear those stray thoughts. Van can’t do that. If, if he picks up what I caught you thinking the other day…:

Now Jay definitely looked offended. :Caught me thinking what?:

That it would be easier if Van had died. That he was a sorry replacement for ‘Lendel. That he couldn’t possibly be worth this much disruption to their lives. But she wasn’t going to say any of that, out loud or in Mindspeech. Even if she’d had her own doubts. “Jay, just... I really appreciate the offer, but it’s fine. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

He had the grace to look a little guilty, at least. “That’s all right.” He sat down next to her, rested a hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into his touch. “Savil, I care about you, all right? We’re going to get through this.”

“I know.” She turned to him and managed a weak smile.

Donni stood outside the Work Room door, arms folded, her small, expressive face tight. There were bags under her eyes and she didn’t look at all happy about being awake. Savil wouldn’t have asked her, it was just past sunrise and she knew the trainee wasn’t a morning person, but Mardic was still recovering from backlash and needed his rest.

“Girl, you’re still leaking,” Savil said irritably. She had been with Vanyel all night, and she was worn out. She badly needed to grab a few hours of real sleep if she wanted to be at all functional today. “What are you so frustrated about, anyway?”

Donni gave her a look. “He threw Mardic into the wall!”

Savil sighed. “He didn’t mean to. Mardic’s fine. You’re taking this way more personally than he is.”

Donni scrubbed a hand over her face. “I know, I just...” She trailed off. There was a haunted look in her eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” Savil tried to make her voice gentle. “Nightmares?”

The trainee gave her another look. “What do you think?” For a moment she slumped against the wall. “I’m fine.”

“Dammit, then shield!” Her voice came out sharper than she’d intended. “You know how!”

Donni flinched, stumbling back a half-step.

Savil sighed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard, but it is your turn. Start with the basics, okay? Center and ground…”

“We’re all here,” Lancir said, looking around. “Let’s get started. Kilchas, get the door?”

It was the first formal meeting of the senior Heraldic Circle they had fit in since the incident. Jaysen, Keiran, Deedre, Justen, Kilchas, and Darvi were all there; they were missing a few other members.

Savil had dragged herself out of bed ten minutes ago after Kellan prodded her awake, and still felt like she was half dreaming. She hoped no one would call on her until she’d had a chance to clear her head.

“We have quite a lot on our agenda,” Lancir said. He glanced down at his notes. “I’d like to get through some of the backlog of routine things we’ve been neglecting this week. First, though – I think most of you know, but I should announce formally that we have a new trainee.”

“It would be quite difficult not to know about Trainee Vanyel,” Deedre said waspishly. Savil bit her tongue against snapping back. She got on well enough with Herald-Mage Deedre; the woman was competent, hells, she was one of the Web-Guardians; but she wasn’t always the most compassionate.

Lancir just gave her a level look. “I very much appreciate how many of you have stepped in to help Savil with this. Thank you. In any case. Savil, an update?”

She straightened up in her chair, blinking hard. Her lips felt half numb; it took a lot of effort to speak without slurring. “He’s recovering slowly. We’ve got him in my Work Room, for safety – he’s very powerfully Gifted, and he’s still quite out of it. Yfandes is staying with him now.” She couldn’t think what else to add, and trailed off.

“What’s wrong with him?” Keiran said, leaning forwards. “I think I missed something.”

Easier to list what wasn’t wrong with him, Savil thought bitterly, and how had Keiran managed to miss the events of the last five days? She had to remind herself that there were probably other things going on in Haven.

She shrugged. “Backlash, and he nearly drowned earlier this week. Plus the way his Gifts were awakened. It’s complicated.”

Silence.

“I should give some context,” Lancir said after a moment. “I very much don’t want this spread around, so use your discretion, but it is relevant.” He glanced at Savil. “Vanyel and Trainee Tylendel were lifebonded.”

Kilchas’ jaw dropped open; Darvi gasped; Keiran brought a hand to her mouth, eyes widening. Savil looked down at her lap, damn it, her eyes were stinging again and it felt like there was a lead weight on her chest.

“Hellfires,” Justen said, in the mild voice he only used when something had just gone disastrously wrong. “That can’t be fun. Explains some of what I was picking up when I was shielding him, though.”

There was an awkward silence.

“Anyway.” Lancir folded both hands on the table. “We ought to do the paperwork at some point, and that means assigning him a teacher. I know we don’t normally assign family members, but I’m inclined to give him to Savil. I think she’s the most qualified, and she has his guardianship already.”

She blinked; it hadn’t occurred to her that they wouldn’t assign Vanyel as her student. Then again, she hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead. “I’m happy to take him,” she said, shrugging, “but I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I certainly can’t start teaching him yet.” She wasn’t sure she felt qualified, either.

“Sooner rather than later would be preferable. He’s going to be a danger to himself and others as long as he’s untrained – you know that.”

She winced.

“You tested his Gifts, right?” Lancir went on. “I don’t think I got around to asking you for details. Can I get the complete list now, for our records?”

“The complete list?” Deedre muttered. “How many does he have?”

Savil sighed and went through it again, counting on her fingers to make sure she didn’t miss any. By the time she finished, everyone in the room was staring at her.

Kilchas whistled. “Wow. That’s pretty impressive.” He looked around the room. “And weird.” His fingers tapped against the table. “Savil, how were his Gifts awakened, again? It would be useful if we had a few more like him.”

She covered her face with both hands; not the most graceful response, but it was all she could do not to start sobbing. You don’t understand.

“It’s probably not replicable,” Lancir said mildly. “We’re not even totally sure what happened. And I’m with Savil – I hope I never see another living soul go through that.”

Savil lowered her hands, struggling to regain her composure. Center and ground. She could get through the rest of this meeting, and then go cry somewhere, because no one understood and even thinking about the future hurt and, damn it, she missed Tylendel.

“Anyway. Let’s move on from Trainee Vanyel. Keiran, want to review any changes to our circuit deployments…”