Aurian

16 A Rendezvous with Wolves

The day was darkening into evening as Eliseth swept into the Archmage’s tower room without knocking. Miathan was bent with slit-eyed concentration over a crystal that lay on a black cloth on the table. He looked up, dark eyes flashing, as the Magewoman entered. “For pity’s sake, Eliseth, can you not leave me in peace? Don’t you know how difficult this is? If it were not for Finbarr’s notes^”

“Were it not for Finbarr, your blasted abominations would have slaughtered us all by now!” Eliseth snapped. “By the Gods, Miathan, why did you not tell us about this?” She gestured at the Caldron, which stood on the table. It was no longer a thing of beauty; its finely wrought gold was black and tarnished. “You of all people should know the dangers of tampering with High Magic,” Eliseth went on. “Bragar and I could have helped you to research its powers and their mastery; but no—you had to do it by yourself. And see what has happened! One Mage is dead, one’s missing, and one is a raving wreck. The Gods only know how many Mortals your creatures killed in the city last night—the whole place is in an uproar—”

“Enough!” Miathan roared. He paced the room, breathing deeply, striving not to lose control 4s he had done last night, with such disastrous results, “What is the situation in the city now?” he asked in a calmer voice,

“That’s why I came—to report on your dirty work,” Eliseth sat down, rubbing her eyes wearily. “Bragar and I have been combing the city, trying to seek out and neutralize your creatures. The Gods know whether we got them all—I doubt it, myself. We’ve been spreading the tale that although no one knows where they came from, the heroic Magefolk are risking life and limb to defend the citizens of Nexis,” Her voice dripped scorn, “They seem to be swallowing it—at least for the moment—so this would be a good time to consolidate your hold on the city, while people are still terrified.”

“What of the G««ison?” Miathan asked sharply,

Eliseth shrugged. “The troops are reeling from the tragic death of their beloved leader—I had his body dumped where you told me, and it didn’t take them long to find it. They have their hands full keeping order just now, what with panic and looting and such, and there seems to be a distinct shortage of leaders. Maya, Forral’s Second-in-Command, is away on some mysterious errand or other, no one knows where, and the Cavalrymaster, Parric, seems to have disappeared. Deserted, probably, if he had any sense. There has been no sign of his body so far, at any rate.”

“Excellent.” Miathan rubbed his hands together. “We may salvage this yet. Well done, Eliseth.”

“If we do, just remember who helped get you out of this mess,” Eliseth replied shortly. “What shall we do with all your frozen Wraiths, Miathan? You have no idea how to get the wretched things back into the Caldron, and we can hardly leave them all over the city!”

“Use an apport spell—it worked on the ones that were here.” Miathan gestured round the room, now empty of Wraiths. “I have them stored down in Finbarr’s Archives for the present—what place more fitting?”

Eliseth frowned. “Frankly, I dislike the idea of sitting on top of those things. We all know how to undo the preserving spell and bring them back into time again—you had better be careful, Miathan.”

“I’m always careful.” Miathan’s voice held a thinly veiled threat. “I intend to have that section of the catacombs sealed, and only you, Bragar, and I will know the whereabouts of the creatures. And I’m sure 1 can trust you—can’t I?”

“Of course you can.” Eliseth swallowed uneasily. “How is Meiriel, by the way?”

“Still out of her mind.” Miathan sighed, “Finbarr’s death affected her badly. I’ve wasted half the day persuading her that Aurian was responsible, and not myself. She’s in such a vulnerable state just now that I succeeded in the end. Which, if Aurian can be located, may prove useful to us.”

“Is there any sign of Aurian?”

“No—but I shall find her, never fear. She escaped by river, that I do know. I found traces of her magic by the weir. I could not locate her in Norberth, so I’ve extended the search to the ocean. It would seem that Vannor has gone with her, unless you found any trace of him in the city.”

Eliseth shook her head. “Miathan,” she ventured, “should you not be concentrating on Nexis just now? This is a critical time for us, with Vannor gone and Forral dead.”

“No!” Miathan’s eyes blazed with a mad light. “I must find her, Eliseth! You know that she will not let Forral’s death go unavenged. Besides, there is still the matter of that accursed child. It must not be allowed to survive!”

“Don’t fret, Archmage, I’m sure you’ll find her,” Eliseth soothed. “In the meantime, I can take care of things for you here. I must have help, though. Elewin says that most of the servants and guards are either dead or fleeing.”

“See to it, then.” Miathan, already turning back to his crystal, waved an absent gesture of dismissal.

“One more thing.” Eliseth hesitated, “Must you send Davorshan away just now? The Magefolk are spread very thin and I could really use his help.”

The Archmage glanced up at her. “Yes, as a matter of fact I must. He must go to the Valley, Eliseth, for Eilin is the only remaining threat to us here. I intend to be rid of the Lady of the Lake—for good,”

Maya was limping as she climbed the wooded slope that bordered the rim of the moonlit Valley. She tugged at the reins of D’arvan’s horse, which she was leading. It had been unbelievably bad luck, her own horse going lame that morning, after they had made such good time on their journey north! It was one more thing to cope with on top of the trouble she’d been having with D’arvan for the past three days. Stopping for breath, she glanced worriedly back at the Mage, who sat limply on the horse, his delicately molded face expressionless, his eyes blank.

Maya muttered a barrack-room curse. She wished he would snap out of it! He had almost scared her to death that night when he’d been seized by a strange, sudden fit. One minute they had been sitting quietly by their small campfire—the next, he had gone absolutely rigid, his face contorted, his eyes rolling back in his head until only the whites were showing. He had screamed out something about Finbarr being dead, and monsters, and Miathan, before collapsing. Since then, he had been as impassive as stone. He could ride if she put him on the horse, eat if she put food into his mouth, and sleep, or so it seemed, if she closed his eyes and laid him down. But for all the response she’d been able to get from him, Maya might as well be lugging a corpse around. The thought sent a shiver through the warrior. She was truly fond of the young Mage, and had been trying hard not to dwell on the possibility that his condition might be permanent. Maya bit her lip. I hope I find Aurian’s mother soon, she thought. Surely she will be able to help D’arvan?

Catching her breath, Maya trudged doggedly on toward the head of the slope. Whatever the trouble was, she hoped that the Lady Eilin would be able to sort it out, and let her get back to the city. She had a feeling that something was badly wrong, and her instincts, developed over a dozen years of soldiering, rarely let her down. She knew from Aurian that if a Mage died, all other Magefolk felt the death. Had D’arvan been reacting to Finbarr’s passing? And what about the Archmage, and the monsters? If there was trouble in Nexis, then Maya knew that her place was with her troops, and she was seething with frustration. Close as she and D’arvan had grown over the last months, she was ashamed to find herself wishing that she had never volunteered for this task of playing nursemaid.

Suddenly the Valley stretched below her, vast in the moonlight. Maya gasped. It was immense! What sort of destructive force could have caused his huge crater to be formed? She led the horse along the edge, seeking a safe way to descend the steep black walls. Then, to her horror, a blood-chilling sound shrilled through the forest behind her. The eerie song of many wolves—hunting! The horse threw up its head and reared, spilling D’arvan to the ground. Maya swore and hung on grimly to the reins, fighting the terrified beast, “No you don’t,” she muttered. “I’m not losing you, too!”

Somehow she got the reins wrapped round a sturdy tree limb, and tied them firmly. The horse plunged and screamed at the end of its tether as she ran back to where D’arvan lay. There was no sign of any injury—he seemed as unaffected as ever by the fall. She hauled his limp form over to the tree, propped him against the trunk, and straightened, panting. The howls grew nearer, turning shrill with excitement. They were on her trail! Great Chathak, they were all around her!

Maya considered letting the horse go, hoping it would lure them away from her, but decided to save that as a last resort. She still had to get D’Arvan across the Valley, and while he was like this, she would never manage it on her own. Stooping, she scrabbled together a small pile of twigs and dead leaves for tinder, and struck a spark, feeding her fire with the larger dead boughs that lay beneath the tree. Wolves feared fire. Drawing her sword, she thrust it point down in the earth in front of her, ready to her hand. Unslinging her bow from her shoulder, Maya nocked an arrow and stood at bay beside D’arvan, her back against the tree.

Like a shadowy tide, the wolves surged through the trees, yelping triumphantly. Then they saw the fire, The gray wave broke, hesitated. One wolf stepped out into the firelight—the leader—a huge, shaggy silver beast whose eyes flared green-gold in the glow of the flames. Maya pulled back the bowstring to its full tension, aimed, and—

“Wait!”

“What the—” Maya jumped—the arrow went wide. Bloody D’arvan! Why had he chosen that split second to wake up? Feverishly she groped in her quiver for another shaft.

“Maya, wait!” D’arvan’s voice was urgent now. “It’s all right. I can talk to him. He won’t hurt us.”

Maya set the arrow to her string—then hesitated, staring at the wolf in utter disbelief. It sat on its haunches, its mouth gaping in a wide grin, its tongue lolling from the side of its mouth—for all the world like the friendly hound that cadged scraps at the door of the Garrison kitchen, The rest of the pack sat in similar postures, or lay, relaxed, on the ground. Maya did not move. “D’arvan,” she said quietly, through gritted teeth, “would you mind telling me what the blazes is going on?”

The young Mage struggled to sit up, “They guard the Valley,” he said. “Eilin sent them to watch after—after what happened the other night.”

“What did happen the other night, D’arvan?”

D’arvan grimaced with pain, “Finbarr , , ,” He shook his head, his eyes veiled and haunted. He was having to answer by the sound oNwoves that first sounded ringingly on rock, then softer on the loam of the forest floor. Maya tightened her bowstring, and the wolves leapt to their feet.

A white horse sprang forth between the trees, bearing the cloaked figure of a wild-haired woman. The staff in her hand blazed with unearthly green light. The tip of Maya’s arrow burst into incandescent flame, and the warrior dropped it hastily, cursing.

“Who are you?” The voice was tense.

Maya took a deep breath, and forced herself to stay very still. “Maya, Lieutenant from the Nexis Garrison, and friend to the Lady Aurian. I bear a message from her to her mother, the Lady Eilin.” Slowly, she reached inside her tunic for the tightly rolled scroll and bowed as she held it out to the Lady.

One of the wolves padded forward and took the scroll in its mouth. It walked softly across to Eilin, and delivered its burden into her hand. By the light of her staff, Eilin examined it, and nodded. “That is her seal,” she said softly. Breaking the seal, she unrolled the sheet, quickly scanning its contents.

“Are you D’arvan?” The Lady turned to the young Mage, who scrambled to his feet and bowed.

“Yes, Lady Eilin.”

“Stay there!” Eilin’s voice cracked across the clearing, and the big wolf gave a low, warning growl. “How do I know that I can trust you?” the Lady said. “After what happened the other night . . .” She shook her head.

“Will somebody please tell me what happened the other night?” Maya interrupted.

Eilin glanced at her sharply, “You mean you don’t know?”

“My fault, Lady,” D’arvan said. “Finbarr’s death shocked me so badly . . .” He shrugged. “I knew nothing after that, until I awakened and saw the wolves.”

“As well for you that you woke up then,” Eilin said dryly. “Aurian says in her message that your powers never surfaced. How is it, then, that you can speak with my wolves?”

“I don’t know,” D’arvan confessed. “I never tried to communicate with animals before. ! didn’t know I could,”

“Well, there may be hope for you yet,” Eilin said, “That is, if you are telling me the truth. Will you be Tested?”

D’arvan nodded, and stepped forward, his expression strained. The Lady held out her glowing staff, and he reached out his hand to grasp the iron-shod heel. The green glow flared into a dazzling aureole that consumed the body of the young Mage, and D’arvan gasped, falling to his knees. Through the scintillating glare, Maya saw sweat break out on his forehead, and stepped forward, an involuntary cry escaping her lips. But the big wolf barred her way, and others advanced to circle her. Then it was over. The Magelight died away, leaving only the flickering flames of Maya’s little fire, as D’arvan relinquished his hold on the staff with a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping.

Eilin smiled. “Bravely done, young Mage,” she said. “The Test of Truth is not a pleasant experience, or an easy one.” She turned to Maya. “My apologies, Lieutenant Maya, for my suspicion. But grave times are upon us—the gravest the world has faced since the Cataclysm.”

“Lady, what has happened?” Maya begged, “If there’s trouble in Nexis, I should go back at once.”

Eilin shook her head. “No, child. It would be a grave mistake to rush back to Nexis, unrested and uninformed as you are. In fact, it would probably be pointless for you to return at all. Be patient a little longer. Come home with me, and I will tell you what I know, ill news though it is, then we can decide what to do for the best,”

“Very well, Lady.” Maya curbed her impatience; she felt forced to accept the sense of this.

The Lady Eilin took D’arvan up on her own horse, and Maya carefully buried the remains of her fire and, mounting the other skittish beast, followed in their wake. The wolves remained behind, on guard.

The warm red glow of the stove in Eilin’s kitchen dispelled the chill of the wintry night outside. The Lady soon had them seated in comfort, eating bread and cheese and cradling cups of fragrant, steaming tea. As the Mage sat down with her own cup, Maya leaned forward, desperate for news.

Eilin opened her mouth as if to begin, then paused, with a little shrug of helplessness. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven’t spoken to anyone for so long; one gets out of the habit,” She sighed. “Still, it musfbe done,” She closed her eyes, remembering. Maya wanted to shriek with frustration, but held her tongue, schooling herself to patience.

“I generally go to bed with the sun,” Eilin said at last. “Three nights ago, I awakened suddenly—I thought I neard Aurian calling me. Calling for help. She sounded so desperate— I knew it was not a dream. I could hear nothing more, but I was afraid, afraid to my very soul. Shaking, I got out of bed and sought my crystal. It’s been years since I last attempted scrying —what need had I to look at the world outside? As long as I had the occasional visit from Aurian I knew she was all right. But that night I looked—and I saw—” Her voice cracked, her hands whitening in their tight grasp round the cup.

“What did you see?” Maya pressed. “Lady, please—”

Eilin drew a long, shuddering breath. “Abominations,” she said. “Creatures of horror beyond all imagining. The Archmage has tampered with an ancient artifact from the past. Out of legend, out of history, he has unleashed the Death Wraiths of the Caldron.”

Maya knew little of such matters, but she saw the shock on D’arvan’s face, saw the look of dread that he and Eilin exchanged.

“There was more,” the Lady went on, her eyes shadowed with grief. “Maya, I’m sorry—more sorry and more grieved than you’ll ever know, to have to tell you this. The Archmage set one of those hideous creatures on Forral. I saw him fall, and saw him die.”

“No,” Maya whispered,. The world stood still around her. “Oh, Lady, no.” As a warrior, she had thought herself inured to the loss of comrades in battle, but now she felt her throat tighten with unshed tears. Not Forral! Please, not Forral! She had never known a better man! Not only was he her commander, but he had also been her close friend over the last few years, as had Aurian. Poor Aurian! Maya caught her breath. “What of Aurian?” she gasped.

“Alive. Finbarr came in time to save her. Somehow he found a way to disable those monstrosities, and two men— Mortal men—got her away.” Eilin’s voice was strained. “I have no idea what happened to her afterward. They fled, I suppose. She lives, I’m certain, but I cannot find her. I lost my link when poor Finbarr died. The Wraiths were too many for him. He fell in the end, and D’arvan must have felt his death as all we Magefolk did.”

“Yes,” D’arvan whispered. “I felt his passing. Dear Gods, Lady, what are we to do? How could Miathan be capable of such an act?”

“Miathan was always capable of far more than most people gave him credit for.” Eilin’s eyes hardened. “I had no proof that he had a hand in Geraint’s death, but I had my suspicions. That was one of the reasons why I fled to this place when Aurian was a baby. But as the years passed, I persuaded myself that it was a foolish fancy, born of grief, and that was why I permitted my daughter to go to the Academy when she was older. Folly! I should have trusted my instincts! But I wish I knew why the Archmage has so suddenly turned to this new evil. D’arvan, you were at the Academy until lately. Can you shed any light on this matter?”

“Not really, Lady, though Miathan has been acting oddly of late. What he did to me—he and my brother. . .” D’arvan told her his story.

Eilin frowned. “Ridiculous!” she said. “Of course you have power, he should know that!” Then she paused. “Ah, but does he?” she murmured. “D’arvan, did your mother ever tell you about your father?”

The young Mage blinked, puzzled. “Tell me what, Lady? They both passed when I was very young—strangely enough, about the same time that Miathan became Archmage—but I can remember my father quite weil. Uavordran was a Water-Mage; clever, yes, but not special in any way. What should she have to tell me about him?”

Eilin seemed lost in thought for a moment, then she straightened, her expression suddenly decisive. “Perhaps I am the only one who does know,” she muttered to herself. “Perhaps Adrina chose to confide only in me.” She looked straight at D’arvan. “Prepare yourself for a shock, young Mage,” she said. “Davorshan is not your twin, and only half your brother. Bavor-dran was his father, but yours . . . well, that is quite a different matter.”

The cup fell from D’arvan’s hands and splintered on the floor without his even noticing. “What do you mean?” he gasped. “It can’t be trjyjs^How can it?”

“Oh, we Magewomen can manage these things if we must,” Eilin said. “Having conceived you, Adrina was quick to see that Bavordran had a son of his own, to allay his suspicions. You were brought into being within mere days of one another, and it was fairly simple for her to arrange for you to be born at the same time—as well as her Earth-magic, she had a singular Healing gift.” She shrugged. “It was a bold move on her part— from the very start, people wondered why the two of you looked so different.”

“But ...” D’arvan floundered, as though the words were choking him. “Then—who is my father?”

Eilin smiled. “Hellorin, the Forest Lord.”

“Lady, that is not amusing!” Maya had never heard D’arvan sound so angry. “How dare you mock me. With such a jest! The Lord of the Phaerie, indeed. What nonsense! They have no existence outside legends and children’s stories.”

Eilin gave him a stern look. “Lad, do you think I’d jest over such a thing? You are completely mistaken, as are most folk. The Phaerie do indeed exist—and have existed far longer than either Mortals or Magefolk. They have their own powers, different from ours, and if they use them to remain apart from us, I cannot blame them. Your mother never told me how she met and fell in love with Hellorin, though it was no secret in the Academy that she and Bavordran bore little love for one another. She only agreed to become his soulmate at the insis-tance of Zandar, her father, the Archmage before Miathan. He was concerned that the .Magefolk were dying out, and Bavordran was the only available mate.” Eilin sighed. “Well, she joined with him in the end, out of love and respect for her father, but she gained no happiness from it. Bavordran was the dullest, most self-centered Mage I’ve ever met, and he made her life a misery in a thousand ways. As Adrina’s friend, I’m glad she found love, however briefly, with her Phaerie Lord. And you were the result, D’arvan. Your brother was her child of duty, but you were the child of her heart.”

D’arvan shuddered. “But Lady,” he cried despairingly, “what does that make me?”

“Unique!” Eilin replied briskly. “In my opinion, D’arvan, you are by no means inferior to the rest of the Magefolk. Aurian believes you may have a talent for Earth-magic, and your ability to speak with my wolves would seem to confirm that. We’ll soon see how far you can develop in that direction. As for any abilities you may have inherited from your father’s side—well, I scarcely know where to begin. The powers of the Phaerie are far beyond the experience of any Mage. Let us concentrate first on what I can teach you, then I suggest you go and ask Hellorin.”

“What?” D’arvan gasped.

“I don’t see why not,” Eilin replied. “I know that the Phaerie are close to us in this valley. They approve of my work here—bringing back the trees, and such. If his own son were to call him, then surely their Lord would answer. But . . .” She held up a warning hand. “I beg you not to rush into such a meeting, D’arvan. The Phaerie have a reputation for being tricky folk, and I don’t want to risk losing you to them just now. Miathan must be opposed, and with Aurian missing and Finbarr dead, that leaves only you and me. I wouldn’t trust the rest of them as far as I could spit!”

“But Lady, what can we possibly do against the Archmage?” D’arvan said.

“Just now, I have no idea. I think we may have to wait and see what happens. Anyway, I’m tired, you’re tired—and you have had far too many shocks in one night to be able to think straight. And poor Maya looks as though she could fall asleep at any second.” Eilin gave the warrior a kindly smile. “I suggest we all go to bed for what’s left of the night, and make our plans in the morning.”

No one argued. Too many shocks ipdeed, Maya thought, as Eilin showed her to the little room off the kitchen that had once been occupied by Forral. D’arvan had been given Aurian’s old room. The painful reminders of her two lost friends made Maya realize that there was one piece of news that she had not imparted to the Lady. “Lady Eilin,” she said abruptly, unable to think of a gentle way to break the news. “Did you know that Aurian and Forral were lovers?”

“Lovers.-’” For a terrifying moment Eilin’s eyes blazed into her own, then the Magewoman dropped her face into her hands. “Dear Gods,” she whispered. “Why did I never foresee it? There was always such a depth of love between them—but how could they have been so foolish?” She turned to Maya, her eyes dim with pain. “Well,jtjjey cannot be blamed for the Archmage turning to evil—but now we know what made him act when he did. Miathan, with his obsession with the purity of our race, would take such a joining ill, indeed.” She shook her head. “My poor child,” she murmured. “My poor, poor children.” As Eilin mounted the tower stairs, Maya heard the soft sound of her weeping.

In the dead of night—the dark, oppressive time when it seemed that dawn would never come—Maya left her room to sit by the embers of the kitchen stove. Weary though she was, she had finally given up trying to sleep. Her thoughts were filled with sorrow for Forral, who seemed so close to her in the room that had once been his, and with fear for Aurian, now a fugitive. Gods, how she must be grieving! Maya also worried about her city, in the grip of an evil madman, and her troops, who would be bearing the brunt of the disaster. Between grief and worry, she was finding it impossible to think clearly. The more she tried, the worse it became. What’s wrong with me? she thought despairingly. I’m a bloody soldier. I’m trained to deal with emergencies. There must be something I can do! But whatever it was, it eluded her. Never before had she felt so alone—Or so utterly, wretchedly helpless.

The sound of a door opening made her reach for her sword _but the intruder was only D’arvan, coming out of his room. He looked haggard and haunted. “You, too?” Maya said ruefully, suddenly glad of the company.

D’arvan glared at her. “How could I possibly sleep, after what I’ve been told toiwght?” he snapped.

“How, indeed? I can’t sleep after what I’ve been told, and you’ve had it far worse than me.” The self-pity in the Mage’s voice had served as a salutary reminder to Maya of just how close she had come to sinking into that same trap herself. “Want some tea?” she offered.

“No! I want this not to be! I want to wake up and find myself in my bed in the Academy, with everything safe and normal—and none of this ever to have happened.” He sank to the floor beside Maya’s chair and leaned his head against the arm. Though he was trying to conceal it from her, she could feel him shaking with sobs.

Maya stroked his fine, pale hair. “Me, too, pet,” she murmured sadly, “me, too.”

D’arvan looked up at her quickly, dragging a hand across his eyes. “Gods, how you must despise me!” he choked.

Maya was taken aback. “Whatever for?” she said.

“Because I’m good for nothing! I’m a useless coward—I can only weep like a maid and make a nuisance of myself! But you’re a warrior—you’re brave—I know how brave you are! You would never shame yourself by giving way like this!”

Maya chuckled. “Little do you know. Less than an hour ago I was lying next door bawling my heart out!”

D’arvan’s eyes went wide. “Truly?”

“Of course, dafty. We’ve had terrible news—treachery heaped on tragedy—and you’ve had some shocks to cope with on top of that! This is the best time for us to give way to our feelings—here, where we’re safe for the moment. It’s never wrong to need—or take—comfort, D’arvan. That’s something we both need right now.” As she spoke, Maya slipped to the floor beside the young Mage and put her arms around him.

He turned his face away. “How can you bear to touch me?” he muttered. “You don’t know what I am.”

“Balls! I know exactly what you are—I’ve known for months. You’re shy and good-hearted, you like music and flowers, and you have the most amazing aptitude for archery I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t believe it when you tried my bow that first day at the Garrison, then told me you’d never handled one before! So that’s one thing you’re good at, for a start. You can talk to wolves, and the Lady Eilin thinks you’ll be fine at Earth-magic—and who knows what talents you might have inherited from your father! I know what you are, D’arvan. You’re very special, indeed.”

It started with her simply comforting him. As she spoke, Maya felt D’arvan relax, and gradually his arms crept around her. Rather to her surprise, that comforted her, and she found her mind turning to just how attractive she had been beginning to find him lately. Stop! her common sense warned her. This is folly! You know what happened to Aurian and Forral. But Maya didn’t care. She had no delusions about their plight, and suddenly it seemed to her that this might be the last chance—for both of them. “Do you know,” she murmured to D’arvan, “you have the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen?” And she kissed him.

???? turning to evil—but now we know what made him act when he did. Miathan, with his obsession with the purity of our race, would take such a joining ill, indeed.” She shook her head. “My poor child,” she murmured. “My poor, poor children.” As Eilin mounted the tower stairs, Maya heard the soft sound of her weeping.

In the dead of night—the dark, oppressive time when it seemed that dawn would never come—Maya left her room to sit by the embers of the kitchen stove. Weary though she was, she had finally given up trying to sleep. Her thoughts were filled with sorrow for Forral, who seemed so close to her in the room that had once been his, and with fear for Aurian, now a fugitive. Gods, how she must be grieving! Maya also worried about her city, in the grip of an evil madman, and her troops, who would be bearing the brunt of the disaster. Between grief and worry, she was finding it impossible to think clearly. The more she tried, the worse it became. What’s wrong with me? she thought despairingly. I’m a bloody soldier. I’m trained to deal with emergencies. There must be something I can do! But whatever it was, it eluded her. Never before had she felt so alone—or so utterly, wretchedly helpless.

The sound of a door opening made her reach for her sword _but the intruder was only D’arvan, coming out of his room. He looked haggard and haunted. “You, too?” Maya said ruefully, suddenly glad of the company.

D’arvan glared at her. “How could I possibly sleep, after what I’ve been told toaight?” he snapped.

“How, indeed? I can’t sleep after what I’ve been told, and you’ve had it far worse than me.” The self-pity in the Mage’s voice had served as a salutary reminder to Maya of just how close she had come to sinking into that same trap herself. “Want some tea?” she offered.

“No! I want this not to be! I want to wake up and find myself in my bed in the Academy, with everything safe and normal—and none of this ever to have happened.” He sank to the floor beside Maya’s chair and leaned his head against the arm. Though he was trying to conceal it from her, she could feel him shaking with sobs.

Maya stroked his fine, pale hair. “Me, too, pet,” she murmured sadly, “me, too.”

D’arvan looked up at her quickly, dragging a hand across his eyes. “Gods, how you must despise me!” he choked.

Maya was taken aback. “Whatever for?” she said.

“Because I’m good for nothing! I’m a useless coward—I can only weep like a maid and make a nuisance of myself! But you’re a warrior—you’re brave—I know how brave you are! You would never shame yourself by giving way like this!”

Maya chuckled. “Little do you know. Less than an hour ago I was lying next door bawling my heart out!”

D’arvan’s eyes went wide. “Truly?”

“Of course, dafty. We’ve had terrible news—treachery heaped on tragedy—and you’ve had some shocks to cope with on top of that! This is the best time for us to give way to our feelings—here, where we’re safe for the moment. It’s never wrong to need—or take—comfort, D’arvan. That’s something we both need right now.” As she spoke, Maya slipped to the floor beside the young Mage and put her arms around him.

He turned his face away. “How can you bear to touch me?” he muttered. “You don’t know what I am,”

“Balls! I know exactly what you are—I’ve known for months. You’re shy and good-hearted, you like music and flowers, and you have the most amazing aptitude for archery I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t believe it when you tried my bow that first day at the Garrison, then told me you’d never handled one before! So that’s one thing you’re good at, for a start. You can talk to wolves, and the Lady Eilin thinks you’ll be fine at Earth-magic—and who knows what talenft y»u might have inherited from your father! I know what you are, D’arvan. You’re very special, indeed.”

It started with her simply comforting him. As she spoke, Maya felt D’arvan relax, and gradually his arms crept around her. Rather to her surprise, that comforted her, and she found her mind turning to just how attractive she had been beginning to find him lately. Stop! her common sense warned her. This is folly! You know what happened to Aurian and Forral. But Maya didn’t care. She had no delusions about their plight, and suddenly it seemed to her that this might be the last chance—for both of them. “Do you know,” she murmured to D’arvan, “you have the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen?” And she kissed him.

The Mage froze, his lips unresponsive against her own, then suddenly he tore himself away. “No!” he gasped. “I can’t!”

Feeling unutterably foolish, Maya tried to make light of the situation, wondering how she could manage a dignified escape. “That bad, eh?” she said with a shrug.

D’arvan’s face went crimson. “Maya, no! I mean—don’t think ... It wasn’t you . . .”

“Well, that’s a comfort, anyway.” Her attempts to rescue him from his floundering seemed to be making matters worse.

He turned his face away, refusing to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I can’t. I mean I’ve never—Oh, curse it, I don’t even know where to start]”

Maya smiled. “If you want,” she said softly, “I would consider it both an honor and a pleasure to teach you.”

He was clumsy at first—clumsy and awkward and painfully shy. But Maya was patient. Gently, unhurriedly, she encouraged and instructed him, and the look of wonder on D’arvan’s face—first at his own pleasure, and later, when she taught him to pleasure her—was more than reward enough. Seeing his glowing expression as the dawn light crept through the window of his room, Maya was flooded with a feeling of tenderness so intense that it took her breath away. Selective though she’d been about her lovers in the past, never had any of them evoked such a feeling within her. She reached out to touch his face, “There,” she told him. “Now we’ve found something else you’re good at.”

D’arvan blushed, bat his eyes gleamed with delight. “Oh, Maya. I never dreamed . . . Maya—you won’t go back to the city, will you? I won’t be parted from you now!”

Maya’s brows knit in a frown as she realized how badly she had complicated matters. “D’arvan,” she said gently, “the time will come when we’ll have to fight. You know that, don’t you?”

To Maya’s surprise, the Mage met her eyes with a clear, steady gaze. “I know—and I’m ready to fight,” he said. “It’s difficult to explain, but, after my—After Davorshan betrayed me, it was as though I had no reason for existing. I felt empty, like a shadow. But now it’s different.” He smiled. “For the first time in my life I feel like my own, whole self—and now I have something to fight for. All I ask is that whatever form the battle takes, we face it together. And if you really feel that you must return to Nexis, my magic can wait. I can still shoot a bow, you know. I’ve had the best possible teacher—in all things.”

Maya was stunned by his words. At last she found her voice. “I can think of a hundred reasons why I should go back,” she said. “But somehow . . . Well, maybe it would be best if I stayed for a while. The Lady Eilin seems to think that my returning to Nexis would serve no purpose, though I do feel guilty about leaving my post. But I don’t want to leave you either, dear heart. Perhaps, together, we could work out some way of combining our talents against the Archmage—depending, of course, on whether Eilin will approve this arrangement. She’ll probably be horrified, and throw me out of the Valley at once,”

“In that case,” D’arvan said firmly, with a new, joyous ring to his voice, “she can throw us both out—together.”

They were asleep when Eilin found them in the morning, curled together on the rumpled bed like two cats. D’arvan’s skin was very white where his arms encircled Maya’s brown, wiry body, and he was smiling as he slept. The warrior’s long dark hair, loosed from its braid, fell across them both like a cloak. The Lady stared at them in silence for a long moment, her brows creased in a frown. “Not again,” she sighed, then shrugged helplessly and cast her eyes heavenward. “Oh Gods,” she murmured. “Why do you keep doing this? Now I have three of them to worry about!”