Chapter 17 and 18 are fairly skippable if you're not excited about this story taking a sudden detour into being a medical drama. (I had fun writing it, okay?)

Chapter Text

The sun was just peeking above the horizon. Vanyel was in the library, curled in a chair, hands cupped around a mug of tea; he had been awake for a candlemark, and had given up on getting back to sleep. He came here often lately. With no mage-students to teach, he had a little more free time, and there was always more to read, to write, to think. It had been a month since his last dream with Leareth and he was probably due for another; he wanted to talk to Leareth about some of his ideas around trade, so he could maybe go to Randi about setting up a centralized mint.

Oh, and there was the other thing. He had very little to go on, of course, but it had occurred to him years ago that he really ought to try to understand Leareth’s method for immortality. A decade ago it might have seemed a dangerous path, but all information was worth having, and this piece in particular. If he decided Leareth needed to be stopped, right now he had no guarantee, or even any to expect, that he could stop Leareth permanently. His body had died before; he hadn’t.

It had reminded him of an obscure Tayledras legend, of spirits that were reincarnated across time, life after life. That didn’t explain it, though – for one, he wasn’t sure he believed that tale at all, and two, lore said it was the work of the Star-Eyed Goddess. Whatever Leareth had done, it was almost certainly without the cooperation of any god.

Their conversations were still fraught, a slow wary dance, both of them trying to give as little ground as possible. They didn’t, quite, trust each other – but there was something, and he thought it was building. It was late autumn of 804, a few weeks past Sovvan; on Harvestfest, Karis’ visit, he had attended the meetings during the day, but and shown his face for a candlemark at the formal reception, but Randi had excused him early, and it had been one of the less-bad Sovvans he had spent.

Coming on three years since he had made that first peace offering. If you are telling the truth, then I should be helping you. A step into the void, on faith, and he still wasn’t sure if it had been right or wrong.

Even if it turns out I’m wrong, he had said, I’ll be glad I knew you. And he was.

<Wingbrother?>

The cool touch of the communication-spell, so unlike true Mindspeech, startled him, and he barely avoided spilling tea all over his lap. He managed to focus enough to build his end of it, throwing energy into the link. <Moondance?>

There were no overtones with this spell, no emotion slipping through with the words, but he thought he could pick up something frantic in the pace of the Healing-Adept’s words. <Vanyel, something terrible has happened>

He set his book down on the side table, the tea next to it. <What?>

<Starwind> There was a long pause, as Vanyel poured his strength into the spell, the sliver of worry in his chest building towards real fear.

<Moondance, tell me> He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it.

<My shay’kreth’aske is gravely injured. We are Gating him back to the Vale now> Another pause, and though Vanyel could feel none of it, he could imagine Moondance struggling to collect himself. <I do not know if he will live. I thought you would wish to know>

Oh, no. Vanyel centered and grounded, then reached for a node, flinging power into the link just before his reserves ran out. <Moondance, hang on, we’re coming> It hadn’t taken any kind of decision. If Starwind’s life was in danger, he couldn’t let Moondance face that alone. <Focus on Starwind. We’ll be there as soon as we can>

<I would not have asked, Wingbrother, but thank you> Moondance dropped the link, and Vanyel’s breath left him in a gust of relief. He took only a second or two to gather himself, before reaching out again.

:’Fandes?:

She was already up – she had greeted him with a Mindtouch that morning – and he caught a flash of brown grass, hoary with the first frost. :Chosen, what’s wrong?:

:Starwind’s hurt. It sounds bad. I want to Gate over there now. Meet me by the Heralds’ temple?: They couldn’t use Savil’s smaller threshold, if Yfandes was coming.

:Oh, no: Yfandes’ dismay was clear. :I will, and I’ll pass word on:

:Thank you: He dropped the connection, then reached further, for Savil. She was still asleep. He prodded at her shields until he felt her stir. :Savil. Savil. Wake up. Savil:

:?: A sleepy, flailing motion. Then she came awake. :Ke’chara?:

:Starwind’s hurt. I’m Gating to k’Treva right now: A moment later, he realized he might not have thought this through. He wasn’t going to be much good on the other side, and he couldn’t expect Moondance to help Heal his channels.

:Oh, gods: A pause. :I’m coming. I’ll do the Gate:

No, he hadn’t thought it through. Of course Savil would want to come. She had known Starwind first, for over forty years now. Vanyel scrambled to his feet, leaving book and tea behind. The clerk at the desk gave him a disgruntled look, but he was probably used to Heralds bolting out in a hurry.

Things to pack – no, never mind, no time. There wasn’t anything he needed so badly; he didn’t even need to bring spare clothes, the hertasi would happily make him some and he could borrow something of Moondance’s until then. :Savil, I told ‘Fandes to meet me at the temple:

:I’ll be there. Five minutes: She broke the connection.

He reached the hallway, and sped his pace. Think. What else could he – oh. :Shavri?: he sent.

:Van?: She must have sensed his alarm. :What’s going on?:

:Gating to k’Treva. Starwind’s injured:

:What happened? Is it serious?: She didn’t wait for his answer. :Can I help?:

:I don’t know. Only talked to Moondance for a minute. It sounds bad: Could she help? Shavri was a powerful Healer, rivalling anyone at k’Treva, and she might have something to add. Randi couldn’t spare her – but he couldn’t spare Vanyel or Savil either, could he? Vanyel realized he hadn’t even thought to ask permission, and a moment later, he realized it didn’t matter – it wasn’t like he would have listened if Randi said no. :If you want to come, see what you can do, I won’t say no: Was that a good idea? Bad enough for he and Savil to go running off – and they were going to do it anyway.

:Of course: A pause. :Give me five minutes to tell Randi and wake Jisa:

:…You’re going to bring her?:

A snort of mental laughter, which he knew was nerves more than anything. :She’d never forgive me if I went to k’Treva without her. Besides, they’re her friends too:

And Shavri couldn’t bear to be separated from her daughter for long, Vanyel thought. :Meet us there: he sent, and pulled back, breaking into a run.

He reached the temple before anyone else, and leaned on the wall, forcing himself to take deep breaths. Center and ground. He wasn’t going to be much good to anyone if he let himself panic.

Odd, how much harder it was to stay calm now than in a fight with someone trying to kill him.

“Van!” Savil was there, in a bed-robe and slippers. “Oh, gods, ke’chara.”

“Shavri’s coming,” he managed, still out of breath. A moment later, Yfandes and Kellan were there, cantering up from the direction of the stables. Neither wore any tack.

:Shavri?: he sent. :Are you almost–:

:I’m coming: Her mindvoice was surprisingly calm. :Gemma’s bringing my supplies from the House of Healing:

That was a good idea. He hadn’t even thought to ask. :We’re ready to go: he sent.

Savil was stroking Kellan’s neck, her eyes closed. Readying herself for the Gate, probably. It couldn’t have been even five minutes since Moondance’s contact, but it felt like candlemarks had passed.

“Van!” And Shavri was there, approaching at a run, gripping Jisa’s hand; the child still wore her sleeping-gown. “Gemma’s almost here.”

“I’ll start the Gate,” Savil said, raising her hands.

Vanyel reached for Yfandes’ neck, trying to focus on his shields. This was going to hurt no matter what, he thought. It didn’t matter at all.

The energies began to build. Vanyel gritted his teeth as the familiar dizziness and pain washed over him.

“Shavri!” Gemma’s voice. Vanyel didn’t even look back, keeping his eyes fixed on Savil, on the outline of the archway now starting to glow. Please, he thought, unsure what he was pleading for, or to whom. Not the gods. They wouldn’t be listening.

An eternity passed in the moments between heartbeats, the pain flared, the Gate flashed white, then faded slowly to reveal the main courtyard in the Vale, sun blazing down. Not for long, he thought. With two Gates, possibly even up at the same time, there was likely to be a storm blowing. Not that it mattered. None of it mattered.

Starwind. Oh, gods, please let us be in time–

A scout ran into view, waving. Vanyel’s ears were roaring and he couldn’t make out the shouted words. A moment later, though, Savil nodded briskly and then crossed the threshold, Kellan on her heels. Shavri followed, a bulky canvas bag gripped in one arm, Jisa clinging to her skirts.

Move. Fingers knotted in Yfandes’ mane, Vanyel took a weaving step, then another. His vision darkened for a moment as he crossed the Gate itself, and he nearly fell, but by sheer effort of will he managed to stay on his feet.

–The Gate-energies faded, and he clung to Yfandes for a long moment, trying to catch his breath. When he opened his eyes, he saw Savil just vanishing along one of the paths. Move, he told himself, and followed.

The acid-like pain of the Gate lingered behind his eyes, but his ears had almost stopped ringing by the time he stumbled out into the clearing in front of Starwind and Moondance’s ekele. The Vale had nothing equivalent to the House of Healing in Haven; the ill or injured were cared for in their own homes. He could feel a concentration of minds – they must have arrived just ahead of him – and his Empathy was picking up on worry, fear, despair.

No, he thought, and quickened his steps, reaching the doorway a moment later.

There were nearly a dozen people crammed into the room where he had once slept, fifteen years and a lifetime ago. No one was speaking. A hand brushed his shoulder, and then two people moved aside to let him through.

They had laid Starwind down on his back, on the mat at the side of the room, and Moondance sat with his lover’s head cradled in his lap, eyes shut, face a mask of tension. Savil was already kneeling by him, holding Starwind’s hand, her other hand on Moondance’s arm.

For a moment, Vanyel felt a breath of relief. All of Starwind’s limbs were where they were supposed to be, and he didn’t see much blood, only a little staining the mage’s long white hair. But the expressions around him were grim. Riverstorm, the most experienced Healer in the Vale, was on Starwind’s other side, two fingers resting lightly on his forehead. Her weathered face was blank.

The worst part was that, when he thinned his shields, he couldn’t feel Starwind at all. It was like there wasn’t a person there.

Starwind, please. A pointless loop in his thoughts. It wasn’t like Starwind could hear him.

Aysheena, Starwind’s bondbird, had waddled in and settled onto his feet. She was making croaking noises in the back of her throat, and her feathers were puffed; she was clearly distressed.

…Vanyel realized that he didn’t have the slightest idea what happened to a bondbird if their bonded died. Were they like Companions, who would die as well? It didn’t go like that the other way round; bondbirds lived longer than their wild counterparts, but their lifespans were still shorter than humans, and a scout might have several bondbirds in her life.

Not the time to think about it. His head pulsed with acid-like pain. Center and ground. Focus.

He saw Shavri nudge her way cautiously between two other people. Snowlight was there, one arm each around Brightstar and Featherfire. Neither of them were crying, but Brightstar looked close to it. Gods, and he was nearly as tall as his mother now, all lanky teenaged limbs.

Long seconds passed in hushed silence, and then Riverstorm opened her eyes. “Moondance,” she said. The Healing-Adept didn’t stir. “Moondance,” she said again, her voice bleak. “I am sorry. There is nothing I can do.”

Silence.

“Moondance.” She reached for his shoulder. “Please. Let go of the energy-link.”

Moondance opened his eyes. “I cannot.”

Starwind’s breath rattled in his throat. With his Othersenses, Vanyel could see the cord of life-energy flowing from Moondance to his lifebonded, too little to keep up as Starwind’s aura faded.

He closed his eyes. No, no no nonono.

“You must,” Riverstorm said gently. “He is dying, Moondance, he is beyond Healing. His skull is cracked. You cannot hold onto him.” Her voice cracked, and Vanyel could hear the desperate apology there. “Please. You only prolong his suffering. Let him return to our Goddess now.”

Vanyel dared to lift his head, blinking. Moondance’s eyes were glazed, and Vanyel didn’t think he was seeing anything in the room anymore. There was a very long pause before Starwind took another breath. His colour was ashy-grey.

:Shavri?: Vanyel sent; he tightened his directional shields, narrowing the link, but still felt her flinch back from the overtones he must have been leaking. :Can you…?:

Shavri met his eyes, her head moving in a fractional nod, and then she pushed Savil gently aside. “Riverstorm,” she said. “May I Look at him? I’ve done some research in the treatment of head injuries. There may be something I can do.”

“If you wish.” The Healer’s voice was flat and empty.

Shavri reached in and laid her own hand on Starwind’s forehead, her eyes going distant. Behind her, Jisa had both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide and worried.

“Moondance,” Shavri said, only seconds later. Her voice was quiet, with the toneless quality of a Healer in trance, but there was authority in it. Moondance lifted his head, and his eyes focused on her. “Moondance, I think I can save his life. I would say eight out of ten odds. But I can’t promise anything more. He’s bleeding inside his head, and there might already be permanent damage. Even if he lives, he may not be himself. And, you’re going to have to trust me. Really trust me. Do you still want me to try?”

A long pause. “Yes,” Moondance whispered, barely audible. “Please. Anything.”

“Then listen to me. We’re going to have to be fast, and I can’t do this alone. Riverstorm, can you help? It won’t be a standard Healing-Meld. There are several things we need to do at once and I can’t hold onto all of them.”

The older Healer nodded, still looking a little dubious.

“Thank you.” Shavri spoke quickly, but as calmly as though she were reading a textbook out loud. “Anyone else who’s done Healing-Melds before, please jump in. Riverstorm, if you can hold those links, I’d appreciate that. Van, Savil. I need you for energy, but I may need you for other things as well. Can you push my bag over here, first?”

Vanyel scrabbled for it with shaking hands. Jisa backed out of his way, and he tried to give her a reassuring smile, but he didn’t imagine it was very soothing. His face felt taut, half-numb.

I feel so helpless. He wasn’t used to it, and he hated it. Stay calm, he told himself firmly. Focus. Center and ground. He wasn’t going to be much use to Starwind if he kept panicking.

A moment later he felt Savil’s mind, reaching for him, and he took the offered rapport with gratitude. His head still hurt, but he could ignore it; his channels worked well enough.

:Good: Shavri sent, as he and Savil slipped into the meld. Vanyel could feel her, and through her, Moondance. It wasn’t his first time in a Healing-Meld with the other mage, and usually Moondance was very calm, even detached – but it was very understandable that this time was different, and the Healing-Adept’s mind radiated raw-edged terror. It was incredible that he could focus enough to stay in rapport with them at all, and must only have been thanks to long years of training.

Vanyel reached out with his weak Empathy, pushing through soothing reassurance, and then had an idea. :Jisa?: he sent, reaching outside of the meld. :Pet, can you do something for me?: She was calmer than he had expected. :Moondance is very frightened. Can you go sit with him, and help him stay calm for me?:

He felt her assent, relief and a hint of pride. She felt useless and in the way and she was glad to have something to do.

:Moondance: Shavri sent, oblivious to the exchange. :Our first problem is, he’s too deeply unconscious to cough or swallow and he’s not keeping his throat clear. Help me turn him on his side, that will help. Careful of his neck. Good. Second problem, the pathways in his brain that control breathing are shutting down, because of the pressure inside his head. Can you hold the main energy-link to him and do a second thing at the same time?:

Moondance already seemed a little steadier. :I shall try:

:Follow me. See where I put my Gift…here: A moment later, Starwind took a shuddering breath. :Like this. Touch here, very gently. Keep him breathing at about the rate a healthy person does, please. Try now?:

A pause.

:Van: Shavri sent. Even through the floating peace of a Healing-Meld, she felt irritated. :Whoever used Sandra’s talisman last didn’t re-power it. Can you help?:

He leaned into his mage-sight, trying to figure out what she was talking about. Oh. It was the spell Sandra had figured out to purify air-of-life, set into a quartz focus-stone. It took only a fine thread of mage-energy, and then he activated it. :Done: It ought to last about a candlemark – by which point he assumed, one way or another, this would be over.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so afraid – and it was a distraction he couldn’t afford. Push it aside. Center and ground. Very close to him in the tight meld, he could feel Shavri focusing very hard on something, but he couldn’t tell what.

:The bleeding is slowed: she sent. :Don’t have time to find the torn vessels and stop it entirely yet. What’s happening is that there’s only a certain amount of space in the skull, and the blood is pooling and crushing the other tissues: She paused. :Savil. Cold will slow down the damage. Can you lay one of those reverse weather-barriers Van uses, just on Starwind’s head, and cool him very, very carefully until I tell you to stop?:

Vanyel felt Savil’s confusion, but she didn’t protest, only reached in. He felt her power moving. Better her than him; her control was much finer.

:Stop: Shavri sent. :Maintain that, please: Another long pause. :Van, I need your help. We have to open a small hole in his skull and drain the blood, to relieve the pressure. Can you do it with magic? I think it’ll be cleaner and safer that way than trying to use a blade:

What? It didn’t seem like that could possibly be a good idea – but he trusted Shavri. :All right:

:Good: And she pulled him into an even closer rapport, sharing her senses, and Othersenses, fully with him. It was very disorienting, and he struggled to find his balance. When he did, though, it helped, the peace of the Healing-Meld washing through him, soothing his ragged nerves.

:Here: she sent, and distantly, he felt her take his hand and guide it to the back of Starwind’s head. :This is where I’m going to need it. Just a moment, I’m going to open the skin first:

He didn’t need to be told to be careful. It wasn’t something he had ever done before, of course, and he wasn’t sure of the best way to do it. With his own eyes still closed, he watched through Shavri’s eyes as her hands moved, quickly and confidently. She pulled Starwind’s hair to one side, then took the dagger from her sleeve – Vanyel had forgotten that she still wore them – and hacked away a section of it, scraping close to the skin. There was a discoloured bruise there, a lump already swelling, but it was minor. Through Shavri’s trained Healing-Sight, Vanyel could see the far more serious damage that lay beneath.

Shavri reached back, to the bag she had brought from the House of Healing, and a moment later her hands were back, unwinding a cloth roll. Inside was another knife, small and very sharp. :It would be better to boil it: she sent, :but we haven’t time. This will have to be clean enough: Without hesitating at all, she rested the tip against Starwind’s scalp, and cut.

Blood welled up. Distantly, Vanyel could feel Riverstorm’s puzzlement, disapproval and a hint of alarm, but the other Healer didn’t question it out loud. Shavri dabbed the blood away with the cloth. :Can someone find me a towel?: she sent, into the shared meld. :This is going to be messy: With her fingers, she peeled back a flap of skin and flesh, and Vanyel saw bone, showing white underneath. He swallowed hard.

:Van: she sent. :Now:

He took a deep breath. Center and ground. Focusing as hard as he ever had in his life, he formed his power into a tiny, spinning needle of force. Pretend you’re drilling a piece of wood. Only wood. Gritting his teeth against a wave of nausea, he lowered that whirling blade. And cut. The bone gave way beneath his power, as easily as cutting into butter.

:Stop: Shavri sent. :No deeper than that, but widen it a little. About as broad as your little finger. Good. Stop: Through her eyes, he saw darker blood, pooling sluggishly. :It’s clotting under there. I’m going to try to coax the clot loose and slide it out:

More blood. Shavri wiped it away. With her Healing-Sight and his own, Vanyel could see the sluggish bundle of energy that was Starwind brighten just a little.

:Oh: Riverstorm’s mindvoice was a breath of awe.

:Riverstorm, could use your help: Shavri sent. :It’s going to start bleeding again now the clot isn’t pressing on it. Can you find the torn vessels and try to seal it off?: A pause. :Van, if you can use Fetching to tug at this piece of the clot, very gently… Savil, put a tiny bit more into the cooling-spell, please, that will make it easier to stop the bleeding. Moondance, I don’t think he’s quite getting enough air. Can you coax him to breathe a little deeper? Thank you:

Vanyel had no idea how Shavri was keeping track of everything so well. Joined so close with her that they were nearly a single mind, lost in the timeless haze of trance, he drifted, existing only in a single endless moment. All he knew was that, bit by bit, Starwind’s aura grew stronger. Occasionally, Shavri prompted Savil to put more or less energy into the reverse weather-barrier, or asked Vanyel to use mage-power or Fetching. Once, she asked him to re-power Sandra’s talisman again – the only indication that any time had passed.

:Good: Shavri sent, finally. :I think we have him stabilized now:

He opened his eyes. She lifted her hand away from the spot where she had hacked off Starwind’s hair; he could see an angry red line there, where she had cut, half-Healed. Her hands and arms were drenched in blood, crusted halfway to her elbows. :Moondance, I want you to try backing off for a moment. Let him breathe on his own:

Vanyel blinked, feeling as though he was waking from a deep sleep. His entire body ached and his legs had gone numb under him. By the angle of the light, three or four candlemarks must have gone by.

Shaking himself a little, he reached for Starwind’s hand. The mage’s fingers were ice-cold, with no muscle tone, his nailbeds mottled blue, but his face, when Vanyel dared to focus on it, looked less like a dying man; he was pale, but without the greyish sheen from before.

:Should we try to wake him?: Riverstorm sent.

:No!: Shavri sent, sharply. :Sorry. I would actually rather he didn’t wake up for the next day at least. I want to keep him burning as little energy as possible. The tissues are going to swell, like any injury, and I need to coax them not to, or else it’s going to pinch off the blood-flow to his brain again. I’ve put the skin back but left the hole open, so fluids can drain a little, which will help: She touched Moondance’s arm, and spoke out loud. “Moondance, let’s put him in the bed down here and get him comfortable, and then you should get some rest. I’m going to sit with him for the rest of the day, but I’ll need to trade off with someone for the night.”

Moondance lifted a bloodstained hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, leaving a trace of crimson on his cheek. “I wish to stay with him.”

“Of course.” Shavri’s voice was soft with sympathy. “I wouldn’t ask you to leave. Curl up next to him, if you like. But get some sleep. You’re lifebonded, you don’t need to be awake to share energy.” She turned to Vanyel. “Help me lift him?”

Vanyel nodded, started to rise, and was surprised when his vision went foggy and he nearly keeled over. He hadn’t realized he was anywhere near that drained.

“All right, maybe not you,” Shavri said. “Snowlight?”

The Heartstone was right there, pulsing at the edge of his mage-sight, and Vanyel started to reach for it, instinctively.

–The brush of a void of stars–

He yanked his mental fingers back. Go away. I don’t want to talk to You right now.

Between them, Shavri, Moondance, Riverstorm, and Snowlight lifted Starwind and carried him over to the bed. Savil was sitting back on her heels, chin sunk against her chest. She must have been just as tired as he was, if not more so; she had jumped into a Healing-meld seconds after raising a Gate alone.

Vanyel looked around for someone to ask. “Summerlight? What happened?”

“He fought a bloodpath mage,” the scout said. “An unlucky hit, when he was not prepared for it. His shields caught the strike, but he was not properly grounded, and the force of it flung him some distance.”

Starwind was a skilled mage, and Vanyel couldn’t imagine him being caught off guard – but he had rolled the dice over and over for his entire life, hadn’t he? He was bound to have gotten unlucky sooner or later. The Tayledras mages and scouts did not usually die of old age, any more than Heralds did. We court the Shadow-Lover every day of our lives.

Somehow he had never thought it would happen to his friend.

Snowlight arranged Starwind’s limbs in the bed, and pulled the blanket over him, while Moondance sat next to him, eyes closed, stroking his partner’s hair, ignoring the crusted blood. Vanyel wasn’t sure if he even knew the rest of them were there.

“Will he wake tomorrow?” Riverstorm said quietly.

“I haven’t the faintest idea.” Shavri’s voice was heavy. “I can’t promise he’ll wake up ever. Hard to see how bad the damage is, right now.” She sighed. “If he survives the next day or two, I think he’ll have an even chance of pulling through this. But he won’t – he’s not just going to be fine. It’s going to be a long recovery and it won’t be easy. He may not ever be able to do some things for himself.”

Riverstorm looked like she had bitten into something sour. “Then what was the point?” She shook her head. “He would not wish to live like that, I do not think.”

Vanyel winced. I really hope Moondance isn’t listening right now.

“The point is that we don’t know,” Shavri said dully. “I did what I could, all right? He’s alive. We’ll see what tomorrow looks like.”

Jisa wandered through the Vale.

No one had been paying her any attention all afternoon. Featherfire hadn’t wanted to play with her, even after Jisa had pushed a little bit with the inside of her head, and Mama had said she was a big girl now, she was almost ten, and that meant she could amuse herself.

She was proud of herself, for how well she had helped Moondance before, but no one had thanked her for it. Everyone was so distracted. Jisa didn’t think it was very fair.

She had gone for a swim, by herself, but it wasn’t so much fun without someone to tussle with in the water. Now she was hungry, and bored, and she missed Mama. And Papa. She hadn’t brought any of her toys, Mama hadn’t given her time to pack at all. I want to go home. K’Treva had been more fun the last time.

She reached out with her Othersenses, searching, and felt Mama still inside. Brightstar was there, too, she could feel the bright clean glow of his mind.

Jisa pounded down the path into the clearing, trailed her foot in the pool for a moment, and then ran to the screen. “Mama can I come in?”

:Shush, love: Mama held a finger to her lips. :You can come in, but be quiet. We have to let Starwind rest:

:Mama, I’m hungry:

:Don’t whine. We have some fruit in here:

It didn’t look like anyone was going to get up and help her, so Jisa struggled to raise the screen all by herself and wriggle through. Starwind was still lying in the bed, without moving. The side of his face where Mama had cut into his head was all puffy and bruised. The big gyrfalcon that was his bondbird was sitting on the perch at the head of the bed, preening. Her beady eye glared at Jisa.

:Hi Aysheena!: Jisa sent.

:Protect. My Starwind. Don’t hurt: The bird’s Mindspeech was so funny, almost not even words.

She started to giggle and then stifled it, because Mama had said to be quiet. :I wouldn’t!: She reached for Mama’s mind again. :Where’s Uncle Van?: she sent. Savil was there, sitting in another chair by the side of the bed, but Uncle Van wasn’t.

:Resting: Mama sent. She reached to ruffle Jisa’s hair. :Jisa, pet, please let me focus:

Jisa withdrew, reluctantly, and reached for Brightstar’s mind instead. He was sitting on the side of the bed. :Do you want to play with me?:

:No, Jisa: He gave her a sad smile. :I am very worried about my papa:

Brightstar had always seemed so grown-up to her, he was thirteen now and almost as tall as Moondance, taller than Uncle Van, but right now he felt even younger than she was. It wasn’t something she was used to. She was always the littlest, the one who needed help with things.

:He’ll be okay: Jisa sent, confidently. :My mama’s the best Healer in the entire world:

:Is that so?: Savil jumped into the link. :It was quite incredible, what she did:

Starwind’s breath caught, gurgling in his throat, and Mama, calmly with no sign of alarm, leaned over and touched his head briefly. She took a cloth, and dabbed the spit from his lips. :Savil: she sent, into a link with both of them. :Can you re-power Sandra’s talisman again for me? He’s struggling a bit:

Brightstar took Starwind’s hand between both of his. “Papa, please, stay here with us,” he whispered. “You can do this.”

:He’s all right, Brightstar: Mama sent, reassuring, to both of them.

Brightstar was frightened. Not like Moondance had been, before, Jisa wasn’t sure she had ever felt anyone being so terrified, but he was upset and worried and he felt so helpless. It hurt. Melody would just have told her to shield, but Jisa didn’t want to shield. She wanted him to not feel that way.

She crawled up onto the bed beside him and put her arm around him. :It’s going to be all right: She pushed with her Gift, just a little. He hadn’t asked her to do it, and Melody said she wasn’t supposed to unless she was asked, but she didn’t think he would mind.

Brightstar rested his chin on her head. :Thank you, Jisa:

:If he’s better tomorrow will you play with me then?: She wanted him to stop being so solemn and sad. It wasn’t like the Brightstar she knew at all.

:Maybe, Jisa: He tousled her hair. :I am glad you’re here:

It had to be scary. She tried to imagine what it would be like, if her papa was hurt, and just thinking about it made her feel cold. Like the darkness under the bed, something she didn’t want to look at.

:I keep expecting him to sit up and glare at me, demand to know what we’re all doing here: Savil said, including Brightstar and Jisa both in the link but not Mama. :Hey, did I ever tell either of you about how I met him?:

:No: Jisa sent. :Tell us, Savil: Savil wanted to talk. Sometimes people were like that, when they were nervous about something and wanted a distraction, and Melody said it was good to go along with it.

Savil chuckled, though there wasn’t much humour in it. :It was, gods, over forty years ago now. I must seem like such an old crone to you youngsters. I was poking around the Valdemaran border – actually, I may have been rather past the border itself – trying to hunt down some godforsaken Outlander mage who’d been harassing farmers. Turns out Starwind, who was all of eighteen at the time, had gotten on the wrong side of said mage. His bondbird chased me down, actually pulled me into mind-rapport. Wouldn’t leave me alone until I followed her. I found him sprawled at the foot of a cliff, burns over half his body: She shuddered. :I knew he was a mage immediately, and I managed to make the connection that he must be a Hawkbrother. Figured his people couldn’t be far, but I wasn’t able to reach anyone with Thoughtsensing and he was clearly in no shape to travel. I’m no Healer, but I was trained in a bit of field-medicine, and I wasn’t going to just leave him. Set up camp, got him under shelter, and stayed there for three days. Spent the entire time convinced he was going to die on me. He didn’t – he recovered. Starwind is pretty tough:

Brightstar watched, rapt.

:Once he was up and about: Savil went on :we ran into the issue where he didn’t speak a single word of Valdemaran, and I certainly didn’t speak Tayledras. He could tell I was a mage, though, and he had heard of Heralds. We figured out some hand signals and a sort of Mindspeech pidgin, and eventually he managed to convey that he wanted me to accompany him back to his Vale. I couldn’t believe it, but I wasn’t going to turn down that sort of opportunity: She reached to squeeze Brightstar’s shoulder. :So that’s how I met your papa, ke’chara – although you weren’t even born until thirty years later. Sometimes I can’t believe how long it’s been:

It all sounded very exciting to Jisa. She didn’t think Brightstar would be in the mood to hear that, though.

Savil woke with a start to nearby voices. Where am I? The light wasn’t right and neither was the surface under her, firmer than her bed. Sunlight shone onto her face, through dappled green, and the air was warm and moist. K’Treva, she thought. Why am I… Oh.

She sat up, shedding the blanket that lay over her and rubbing her eyes. Starwind. She almost started to search for his mind, before remembering that Shavri had asked all of them to avoid Mindtouching him at all, and that Van was holding external shields on him as well.

Through the wall, she could hear the familiar tones of Moondance’s voice, though she couldn’t quite make out the words. She clambered to her feet, stiffly, and headed over to lift the rolled-down screen.

“Morning, Savil.” Shavri was there, sitting on the side of the bed; she looked like she had just woken up as well. Moondance hadn’t moved from the chair where he had been when Savil went to bed. Vanyel, who had napped in the afternoon and then stayed up all night to keep Moondance company, was nodding off in another chair; he waved sleepily to her, and then his head sank to his chest again.

“How is he?” she said, finding a place to sit on the other side of the bed, reaching to take Starwind’s limp hand. “Is he waking up at all?” Starwind’s eyes were closed, his eyelids swollen. His jaw was slack and he was drooling onto the pillow. At least his skin felt warm to her touch now; that had to be an improvement, right?

“No,” Shavri said. “No change. I’m not surprised. It’s like a broken ankle – you still can’t expect to walk on it the next day.” She knuckled her eyes with one hand. “Um. I was hoping I could rouse him enough to drink some water, but he’s still not swallowing. And he needs fluids, badly, it’s been almost a day and he did lose some blood. Moondance? I do have a solution for this, that I worked out in Haven.”

Moondance leaned forwards, eagerly. “Yes?”

“I can slip a sort of tube down his throat, and we can give him liquids that way. Including broth or milk, so he can get a bit of nourishment.”

Moondance’s nose wrinkled. “That is a very strange idea.”

“I know, it’s a little gross, but it does work. Moondance, I really think he might recover from this, at least partly, but he won’t make it through the next few days without any water to drink. Is it all right with you…?”

“Of course.” Moondance smiled weakly. “I trust you, Shavri. Anything you can do for my shay’kreth’ashke, I would be greatly obliged.”

“Where’s Brightstar?” Savil said. He had refused to leave his father’s side all day.

“Sleeping over with Snowlight and Featherfire,” Shavri said. “Jisa’s there too.” She shook her head. “Poor boy. I wish he didn’t have to see his father like this.”

Starwind wouldn’t have wanted any of them to see him like this, Savil thought. Maybe Riverstorm was right; maybe he would rather be dead than have survived in this condition, completely dependent on them, like an infant. No, more helpless than that – even babies could suckle milk.

There was a chance he would recover, she reminded herself. Wasn’t it worth that?

“Moondance,” Shavri said. “Can you feel him at all?”

Savil couldn’t; he was a blind spot to her Thoughtsensing, a still pool.

“A little, I think,” Moondance said. “I am not sure.”

“Mmm.” Shavri hid a yawn in the crook of her elbow. “Sorry. Moondance, why don’t you get some sleep now? Van, you too. Savil, can you take over holding shields on him?”

“Of course.” Though Savil wasn’t sure if there was any point to it; she certainly wasn’t picking anything up from Starwind. “Anything else I can help with?”

Shavri nodded. “Turn him on his other side with me? He shouldn’t lay in the same position all the time, and he’s not moving on his own.”

“Right.” Savil bit down a yawn of her own. Damn, it’s contagious. She reached out with her mind for Shavri. :How long do you think he’s going to need?: She hadn’t exactly thought it through day before. They had just up and left, taking Randi’s lifebonded with them, leaving no indication of how long they would be gone. Randi must have been very irritated with all of them.

:I don’t know: A pause. :It could be weeks. Is there any way of getting a message back to Haven?:

A letter would take months. :Hmm. Sandra knows Van’s communication-spell. I could try for her using it: It would have been impossible when Sandra was still in Sunhame, but Haven might just barely be within her range.

:Try to get in touch: Shavri sent. :Let Randi know what’s going on: Savil blinked; for a moment, there had been a sort of quiet, driving authority in her mindvoice. The way Randi sounded sometimes, when he gave orders. She sounded like a Queen just then. Not something Savil would ever have expected from Shavri.

:Once it’s been a few days I won’t really be needed here: Shavri added. :They have other Healers. None of them would’ve known how to do what I did, but once he’s stable, they should be able to care for him just as well as I can:

:I don’t want to leave before he’s recovered: Savil sent. :I want to be here when he wakes up, Shavri:

:I told you: Overtones of heaviness. :I can’t promise he’s going to wake up at all:

It was a candlemark before sunset when Vanyel got back from the scout-run. He had volunteered for it, after realizing he had been pacing up and down the Vale all morning. It had been good to get some exercise, and to feel useful; k’Treva was shorthanded on the scout-routes, since they were missing both Starwind and Moondance, and Snowlight wasn’t going out either. He needed something to do with himself, besides sit around with Moondance and the others. Daystar was away on one of the long scout-routes and might not be back before spring, and he wasn’t that close to any of the other Tayledras.

It was the uncertainty that was driving him wild. Four days, and still next to no change. How much longer could it go on like this? They could keep Starwind alive, one day at a time, Shavri dripping milk mixed with honey down the waxed-canvas tube she pushed down his gullet. For how long? Something had to change sooner or later, surely.

He had improved a little, Shavri claimed; he was breathing better, and hadn’t needed her help in two days. To Vanyel that seemed like the most minimal kind of improvement.

Jisa had attached herself to Brightstar, and followed him everywhere through the Vale. She had dealt with the whole thing much better than Vanyel had expected. Not even ten years old, and she was trying to hold everyone around her together.

Parting ways with Yfandes at the clearing by Starwind and Moondance’s ekele, he stroked her mane. “Take care, love.”

:You too, Chosen:

He had felt closer to her again, these last few days. They hadn’t talked all that extensively, but he had frequently gone to her for comfort, just to feel her presence near him.

He had still been avoiding touching the Heartstone, and he badly wanted to talk to someone about it, but Yfandes still seemed uneasy around the topic of gods and goddesses, and he didn’t want to push her into avoiding him again.

Savil had managed to reach Sandra, very briefly, using Leareth’s communication-spell. There hadn’t been time for the other Herald-Mage to actually consult Randi – Sandra wasn’t powerful enough to hold the spell longer than a few seconds – but Savil had told her they would stay a week and then check in again.

Thank the gods they had Kilchas and Sandra back. It would have been a lot worse for them to go six months ago, leaving no mages at all in Haven, and he was fairly sure they both would have gone anyway. Randi would have been furious.

“Moondance?” he said, lifting the screen. “Have you gone outside today?” He had been trying to coax his friend to leave the ekele once in a while, to at least bathe and spend some time in the sun – when that failed, and he couldn’t persuade Moondance to leave Starwind’s side, he would spend candlemarks just sitting with him, sometimes talking, sometimes in respectful silence. Unsurprisingly, Moondance was very stressed, and he had been quite moody. He didn’t seem to feel guilty about abandoning his duties, though, which was interesting; Vanyel was fairly sure that the Moondance of five years ago would have been tearing himself up over it, even though none of the other Tayledras begrudged him taking time to care for his lifebonded partner. He would have gone out to deal with anything truly urgent, Vanyel thought, but there wasn’t anything like that right now.

Moondance was sitting on the side of the bed. He said nothing, but his face turned towards the light, and Vanyel saw the glint of tear-tracks down his cheeks.

He pushed through the door. :Moondance, what’s wrong?:

:Not wrong. Something wonderful: Overtones of aching joy. :He opened his eyes. I think he knew me:

:Oh: Vanyel rushed over to the bed. “Is he – can I…?”

Moondance moved over, making a spot for him. “Ashke?” he said, reaching to stroke Starwind’s brow. “Your Wingbrother is here. Vanyel.”

Starwind’s eyes flickered open – and moved right past Vanyel, with no sign of recognition, but settled on Moondance’s face. His eyebrows lifted the barest fraction, and he started to open his mouth.

Moondance clearly felt something, through their bond; with a laugh that was half joy and half sob, he bent to kiss Starwind. “Ashke, I am here,” he breathed. “I love you.”

Starwind made an incomprehensible sound, his face scrunching.

“You are hurting,” Moondance said softly. “It is all right. I will have someone bring you a snowpack for your head.”

:Savil!: Vanyel reached out, searching. :Shavri! Come here!:

Aysheena swooped into the room, cawing, and Moondance had to fend her off from diving at Starwind’s head. She landed on her perch instead, then hopped down and waddled across the blankets. She nibbled at Starwind’s ear.

Vanyel chuckled, hiding it behind his hand. It wasn’t funny, really – but with the incredible release of tension, it was hard not to. Moondance was half-laughing as well, half-crying, cupping Starwind’s face between his hands.

As the seconds passed, Vanyel was aware of a tightness in his throat, a cold weighted feeling in his stomach, fighting with the joy. Moondance had pulled Starwind’s head and shoulders into his lap, and as happy as he was for his friend’s sake, it was hard to watch.

It’s not fair. And wasn’t it the most pointless, bitter thing, to be resentful that one of his closest friends hadn’t lost his lifebonded partner? He shouldn’t have been jealous, it was immature and entirely unfair to Moondance, but he was.

I miss you, ashke. Sit with it for a moment, and then fold away the memory of ‘Lendel’s face, because now wasn’t the time.

Candlemarks later, they were all sitting in the pool outside the ekele, except for Brightstar, who was still with Starwind, and Moondance, who was squeezing in a nap in the ekele above. He had been mostly nocturnal over the last few days.

“I confess,” Riverstorm said, “I did not expect him to wake. Not once it had been two days with no change. It seems you were right, Shavri, and I am even more impressed by what you have done.” Then her expression shifted to something like disapproval. “Nonetheless. He is not himself.”

Starwind would consistently open his eyes when he heard his own name, and it was fairly obvious that he recognized Moondance and sometimes his bondbird. He had seemed to be in considerable discomfort, unsurprisingly, until Shavri managed to get some painkillers into him; he was calmer now. Sometimes he would lift his head from the pillow, or clumsily try to grab at things – usually Moondance, if his partner came within arm’s reach – but that was about it. He couldn’t speak, or Mindspeak, and it was unclear how much he understood.

“I know. There’s a lot of damage.” Shavri scooped a handful of water over her face. “I still think we should wait and see. I did warn you this might happen.”

Vanyel let his hair slide half across his eyes, hiding the prickling tears. I’m sorry, Starwind. Was it worth it? He hoped so. Surely it was worth it for Moondance, to have his lifebonded partner alive, but maybe Riverstorm was right; maybe Starwind wouldn’t have wanted to live this way.

“Can’t you Heal it?”

Shavri shook her head. “No. I can coax nerves to regrow, but the brain is too complex. I can’t get in close enough with my Sight to see exactly which pathways are disrupted.”

“His garden is missing things,” Jisa said suddenly.

“What?” Shavri spun around. “Jisa, you can See it?”

“Yes.” Jisa looked like she thought it was a stupid question. “Lots of vines got burned. Parts that should attach to other parts.”

Shavri stood up, water cascading off her. “I’m an idiot. I didn’t even think to ask. Jisa, come with me. Let’s do some concert-Seeing.”

“Mama, but I’m not done–”

Shavri ignored her daughter’s protests, hauling her out of the pools under the arms. “Come on. Get your robe on. Jisa, pet, why in the name of the gods didn’t you tell me before that you could See what was wrong?”

Jisa rolled her eyes. “’Cause I thought it was obvious, Mama. That’s what my Gift is.”

“Don’t give me sass.” Shavri was tugging on her own robe over damp skin.

Vanyel reached out for her mind. :Shavri, is it that much of a rush?:

:I guess not: He saw as she stopped, breathed in and out, rolled her neck and shoulders. “Sorry, Jisa,” she said out loud. “Mama got a little excited.”

“Let’s go look,” Jisa said cheerfully. “You never let me use my Gift.”

“Jisa, that isn’t true at all, you have lessons with Melody three times a week.”

“That’s not the same, I want to do real things, not practice things–”

“Exactly what do you think we’re doing right now?”

Vanyel made his way after them, more slowly. It didn’t seem like an emergency, but he supposed he could understand why Shavri was impatient. She had been feeling guilty for days that she couldn’t do more.

Hope blossomed in his chest. He tried to tamp it down; it would only hurt worse to be disappointed, later.

When he caught up, Shavri had Starwind propped up against a stack of pillows, and was trying to get his attention. “Starwind, hey, look at me a minute. Good.” She pulled Vanyel into the link as well. :Jisa, what are you…?:

:Look, this whole part is broken:

:Hmm. Jisa, go in closer… Can your Gift remake that connection?:

A pause. :No. Nothing grows there:

:Damn: Vanyel could feel Shavri thinking. :I think some of the brain-tissue there is dead. You can’t go around it?:

:No: Jisa felt a little annoyed, almost indignant. :Too far:

:Let me think. My Gift ought to be able to persuade new nerve-cells to grow, there. I’m going to try that. Jisa, you need to keep showing me where, my Sight doesn’t go in that close:

A long time passed in silence.

:Mama: Jisa complained. :This is boring:

A sigh. :Do you want him to get better or not?: Shavri sent, rather sharply.

:…I want him to get better:

:Then I’m going to need your help. You like helping, right:

:…Yes: More a whine than a word, but Jisa readjusted herself and closed her eyes.

Vanyel had been pressed against the wall, trying to stay out of the way, but they seemed settled. He crept closer, ending up kneeling against the side of the bed, gripping Starwind’s free hand. Starwind started to tug his arm back, it seemed instinctive more than deliberate, then relaxed. Brightstar was on his other side, holding his father’s shoulders steady, rapt eyes resting on Jisa.

Please, he thought, to nothing and nowhere in particular.

Howling wind, a frozen pass at his back–

“Herald Vanyel.”

“Leareth.”

(Vanyel would have preferred not to be having the dream tonight. It wasn’t the worst time for it, maybe, but he still felt so badly shaken from the events of the last few days. He had tucked Starwind into bed a few candlemarks ago, after helping Moondance bathe him, and the Hawkbrother had still shown no sign of recognizing him. Or Brightstar, which was even worse, though at least he tolerated either of them touching him, which wasn’t true for plenty of others. Riverstorm, for one. Starwind had hit her, albeit probably by accident, when she had tried to help turn him on his side.)

“You seem troubled,” Leareth said, lowering his hand as he finished summoning a wall of snow-blocks around them.

Vanyel settled onto the stool that he had carved from the snow. “You could say that.”

(Even a few years ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed of telling Leareth what was going on, of revealing anything he didn’t have to. It was different, now, but he still wasn’t sure. And yet, he desperately wanted Leareth’s…not comfort, that wasn’t the right word, not exactly advice either, but something. Just his acknowledgement, maybe. That here was one more way in which the world was broken, and that there was no ‘meant to be’, only a pointless tragedy at best half-averted.)

He took a deep breath. “My friend was badly hurt.”

(No need to say anything about being in k’Treva, although it was possible Leareth knew; he certainly had spies in Haven, and though Vanyel hadn’t told anyone where he was going, it wasn’t like there had been time for it, others would notice he was gone and k’Treva was the most likely destination. Still. How much could it matter? Leareth couldn’t reach into the Star-Eyed’s territory anyway.)

Leareth only waited for him to say more, impassive.

“It was a head injury,” Vanyel added finally. “He would have died, but we tried an experimental Healing technique, and he didn’t. And I’m glad, it’s just… I don’t know.”

“Your friend is damaged,” Leareth guessed. “Something was lost.”

“Yes, although we’re going to wait and see. It hasn’t been long.”

“I see.” Leareth’s mouth was solemn, his eyes sympathetic. “I am sorry, Herald Vanyel.”

(The worst part was, it sounded like he meant it. Vanyel knew he shouldn’t have been telling Leareth this much; he felt so desperately, achingly vulnerable, and it wasn’t like Leareth could do anything about it. He wasn’t a Healer, and he was hundreds of miles away – and there were so many reasons not to go to him for aid.)

“I feel a bit iffy about the ethics of the whole thing,” he said, managing to keep his voice level. “I mean, it’s not like we ever asked him beforehand, if he would want to live in this state, and we certainly can’t ask him now. It was very costly, for everyone involved.” On an ongoing basis, he didn’t add.

“And you wonder if it was a good use of resources.”

Vanyel half-wished Leareth wouldn’t make it so explicit. “Maybe. I don’t know. I can’t imagine ever letting a friend die, if there was anything I could do, but…well, a couple of my other friends have already said they would prefer to die rather than survive in that condition.”

(He had asked himself the same question, eventually, and been chagrined that the answer was a definite ‘no.’ If he wasn’t in any shape to fulfill the destiny that had followed him for half his life, then he would prefer to go to the Shadow-Lover’s arms. It had taken him candlemarks before he worked up the courage to tell Savil, because it seemed like the sort of thing he ought to tell someone, and she had only hugged him wordlessly. Maybe he ought to tell Shavri as well; she was the one more likely to try to save his life, in similar circumstances; but he couldn’t make himself. It would only upset her, a distraction at a time when that was the last thing she needed.)

“It is understandable,” Leareth said. “Especially for those who believe that their spirit goes on to a better place.”

(Which the Tayledras emphatically did – at least, they believed that the spirits of the dead rejoined the Star-Eyed Goddess, whether or not that was much like continuing to exist. Riverstorm had said as much.)

“What would you do?” Vanyel said tightly. “If it was your friend?”

There was a long silence.

“It very much depends on circumstances,” Leareth said finally. “It is a murky area, where clear answers are difficult. Perhaps a thought experiment would make it clearer.” He paused again, calmly lifting one hand to push aside a strand of hair that the wind, creeping in, had gusted into his eyes. “Let us imagine that I knew for certain the friend in question would never recover enough to be useful to my plans, but I could expect they would be in no pain, and could still enjoy those simple pleasures of life; food and drink, a summer’s day, the company of a friend. I would not try to save someone for a life of agony. Nor would I try to spare a friend’s life if I had discussed the subject with them and already knew that they would not wish to survive in such a state. However. People are often more flexible than they realize, and if I had not had such a conversation, and the resources were available to me to save a friend’s life without too high an expected cost to my plans, I would do so. Because all people are lights in the world – and because I am human, and though people die everywhere every day of injury and disease, I do weigh some of those lives more heavily than others. I do not have many friends, Herald Vanyel, and they are a precious thing.” He paused for a long time. “You are one of them.”

(Vanyel had no idea what to say; it was too much to absorb in a single moment, with Leareth’s implacable black eyes resting on him. Should he have been surprised? Leareth had said other things, before, that pointed in the same direction, but nothing so frank.)

“Um. Thank you?” He swallowed. “Not that I can imagine it ever coming up, but I should warn you – if I wasn’t going to be able to do anything useful, I would rather die.”

(Starwind, at least, had Moondance. It was unclear if he had the faintest idea where he was, or what was happening around him, but it was clear he could still feel the lifebond; as long as Moondance was in the room with him, he seemed content enough, even though he was in considerable physical pain. Vanyel wouldn’t have anything like that; he would have the opposite. How much worse would the void be if he had no kind of scaffolding built up over it? If he couldn’t even remember why it hurt so much?)

Leareth’s face didn’t change, but Vanyel thought he caught a flicker of surprise in his black eyes. The mage said nothing, only inclined his head briefly.

“What about you?” Vanyel said, when he had found his voice. “What would you want, in those circumstances?”

To his surprise, Leareth smiled, thinly. “At that point, given my strategy for immortality, it is simpler to seek a new body. This is what I have done before. There is some cost to starting over in this way, but I must pay it eventually in any case.” A pause. “I have always taken measures, so that if I were permanently incapacitated but not killed, my spirit will flee the damaged body and move on. If I do see such an injury coming, I kill my current body while I am still capable of it.”

(Of course. Of course Leareth had thought it through, and ‘taken measures’. It would have been funny if it wasn’t some combination of unbelievable and horrifying.)

“Right,” Vanyel said. “Your immortality method. I’ve been trying to figure that out. It’s fascinating.”

(He wasn’t sure that he ought to be telling Leareth about his investigation, but yet again, he had hit a dead end; he wasn’t sure he could make any more progress without some kind of hint, and Leareth’s reaction to his words seemed the best way to seek that.)

Leareth didn’t freeze, he was already motionless, but his stillness deepened slightly, and it was a long moment before his next breath. “I see,” he said finally.

“Your spirit clearly leaves your body,” Vanyel said. “And then…skips the next step, whatever that is.”

(Leareth didn’t go to the Shadow-Lover, or to whatever equivalent existed elsewhere, but it seemed he didn’t go directly to a new body either – Vanyel had gleaned what fragments he could from the historical record, though of course it was all doubtful, and he thought there were gaps of years between the death of one of Leareth’s bodies, and the time he popped up elsewhere.)

“You’ve found a way to hide your disembodied spirit from the gods,” he said. “And…then you come back, and take over someone else’s body, I think.” He hesitated. “Meaning you must drive out their spirit. So, basically, you kill someone in exchange for every new life.”

(So much of it was conjecture, of course. Leareth had never outright confirmed which historical figures had been among his incarnations, but it was clear that their lives overlapped. At a guess, he usually took bodies in their adolescence, around the time that nascent Gifts were awakening. Yfandes had been suitably horrified by the implications.)

Leareth only tilted his head in the slightest of nods. “That is one of the costs.”

(That was the most confirmation Vanyel could reasonably expect, he thought. It could be a lie, Leareth misleading him into thinking he was on the right track when he wasn’t at all, but he doubted it. As to the cost… Leareth sounded so matter-of-fact, unapologetic. A hint of sorrow, it bothered him that he needed to take lives just to go on existing, but he thought it was worth it. And, really, could Vanyel say he was wrong?)

There was a long silence.

“There is advice I would give,” Leareth said finally. “For your friend. The brain is a complex organ, but can repair itself to some extent, particularly with the aid of skilled Healers, but perhaps even without. With practice, and time, one can recover many lost faculties. It is slow, and frustrating. One must relearn the way a young child does, starting simple. Yet it is possible.”

Vanyel could only nod. “Thank you.”