Valdemar Books

by Lackey, Mercedes

  He flushed, embarrassed, and feeling guilty.

  "Van, this is Starwind k'Treva," she continued. "He and Moondance are the Tayledras Adepts I told you younglings about a time or two. This," she waved her hand around her, "is his, mostly, being as he's k'Treva Speaker.''

  "In so much as any Tayledras can own the land," Star-wind noted with one raised eyebrow, his voice calling up images of ancient rocks and deep, still water. "It would be as correct, Wingsister, to say that this place owns me."

  "Point taken. This is k'Treva's voorthayshen - that's - how would you translate that, shayana?"

  The Tayledras at her side had a triangular face, and his long hair was arranged with two plaits at each temple, instead of one, like Moondance - and he felt older, somehow. At least, that was how he felt to Vanyel.

  "Clan Keep, I think would be closest," Starwind said, "Although k'Treva is not a clan as your people know the meaning of the word. It is closer to the Shin'a'in notion of 'Clan.' "

  His voice was a little deeper in pitch than Moondance's and after a moment Vanyel recognized the "feel" of him as being the same as the "blue-green music" in his dreams.

  "My lord," Vanyel began hesitantly.

  "There are no 'lords,' here, young Vanyel," the Adept replied. "I speak for k'Treva, but each k'Treva rises or falls on his own."

  Vanyel nodded awkwardly. "Why am I here, sir?" he asked - then added, apprehensively, ' 'What did you do to me? I - forgive me for being rude, but I know you did something. I feel - different."

  "You are here because you have very powerful Mage-Gifts, awakened painfully, awakened late, and out of control," the Adept replied. His expression was calm, but grave, and held just a hint of worry. "Your aunt decided, and rightly, that there was no way in which you could be taught by the Heralds that would not pose a danger to you and those about you. Moondance and I are used to containing dangerous magics; we do this constantly, it is part of what we do. We can keep you contained, and Savil believes we can teach you effectively. And if we cannot teach you control, then she knows that we can and will contain you in such a way that you will pose no danger to others."

  Moondance had not looked like this - so impersonal, so implacable. Vanyel shivered at the detached calm in Starwind's eyes; he wasn't certain what the Adept meant by "containing" him, but he wasn't eager to find out.

  "As to what we have done with you - Moondance Healed your channels, which are the conduits through which you direct energy. And I have taught you, a little, while you were in Healing trance. I could not teach you a great deal in trance, but what I have given you is very important, and will go a great way toward making you safe around others. I have taught you where your center is, how to ground yourself, and how to shield. So that now, at least, you are no longer out of balance, and you may guard yourself against outside thoughts and keep your own inside your mind where they belong. And there will be no more shaking of the earth because of dreams."

  So that was what had happened - with the music, the colors - and this new barricade around his mind.

  Star wind leaned forward a little, and his expression became far more human; concerned, and earnest. "Young Vanyel, we, Moondance and I, we are perfectly pleased to have you with us, to help you. But that is all we can do; to help you. You must learn control; we cannot force it upon you. You must learn the use of your Gifts, or most assuredly they will use you. Magic is that kind of force; I beg you to believe me, for I know this to be true. If you do not use it, it will use you. And if it begins to use you," his eyes grew very cold, "it must be dealt with."

  Vanyel shrank back from that chill.

  "But this is neither the place nor the time to speak of such things," Starwind concluded, rising. "We have you under shield, and you are too drained to cause any problems for the nonce. Youngling, can you walk? If you can, you would do well with exercise and air, and I would take you to a vantage to show you our home, and tell you a little of what we do here."

  Vanyel nodded, not eager to be left to his aching memories again; he found on rising that he was feeling considerably stronger than he had thought. He couldn't move very fast, but as long as Starwind and Savil stayed at a slow walk, he could keep up with them.

  They went from the bathing room back through the bedroom; it looked even more like a natural grotto than the bathing room had. Vanyel almost couldn't distinguish the real foliage from the fabric around the bed, and the "furniture," irregularly shaped chairs, benches and tables with thick green cushions and frames of bent branches, fitted in with the plants so well as to frequently seem part of them. There was a curtained alcove (with more of those leaf-mimicking curtains) that seemed to be a wardrobe, for the curtains had been drawn back at one side enough to display a bit of clothing.

  From there they passed into a third, most peculiar room. There was no furniture, and in the center of it, growing up from the stone floor, was the living trunk of a tree, one a dozen people could not have encircled with their arms. Attached to the trunk was a kind of spiral staircase. They climbed this - Vanyel feeling weak at the knees and clinging to the railing for most of the climb-to a kind of covered balcony that gave them a vantage point to see all of Starwind's little kingdom.

  This was a valley - no, a canyon; the walls were nearly perpendicular - of hot springs; Vanyel saw steam rising from the lush growth in more places than he could count. Although there was snow rimming the lip of the canyon high above, vegetation within the bowl ran riot.

  "K'Treva," Starwind said, indicating the entire valley with a wave of his hand. "Though mostly only Moondance and I dwell here-below. Beneath, the living-spaces for the hertasi and those who do not wish the trees."

  Vanyel looked over the edge of the balcony; below him was a collection of rooms, mostly windowless, but with skylights, the whole too random to be called a "house."

  "There are other living places above - which is where most of us dwell," Starwind continued, with an ironic smile. "Moondance is not Tayledras enough to be comfortable above the ground. The hertasi you may or may not see; they serve us, we protect them and allow them to dwell here. They are shy of strangers - even of Tayledras; really, only Moondance is a friend to all of them. They are something like a large lizard, but they are full human in wit. If you should see one, I pray you strive not to frighten it. And although you may go where you will here-below, pray do not come here-above without invitation."

  Vanyel looked up, but couldn't see any sign of these "living places" - only the staircase spiraling farther up the trunk and vanishing into the branches. The very thought of being up that high was dizzying, and he thought it was likely to take a great deal more than an invitation to get him to climb above.

  "Tchah - I stand on Moondance's side," Savil replied. "I remember the first time I was here, and you made me try to sleep up in one of your perches. Never again, my friend."

  "You have no sense of adventure," Starwind countered, putting his palms down on the rail and leaning forward a little. "The last thing, one that you may sense, so that you know it is indeed there - the barrier about the vale. It protects us from that which we would not have pass within and it keeps the vale always warm and sheltered. So - this is k'Treva. What we do here - two things. Firstly, we make places where the magic creatures of the Pelagirs may live in peace. Secondly, we take the magic out of those places where they do not live, making the land safe for man. We use the magic we take to make boundaries about the places of refuge, so that none may pass who do not belong. That is what the k'Varda, the Mage-Clans of the Tayledras, do. We guard the Pelagirs from despoilers as our cousins, the Shin'a'in, guard the Dhorisha Plains."

  "As I keep saying, you're like we are. You guard the Pelagirs as the Heralds guard Valdemar," Savil said.

  Starwind nodded, his braids swaying. "Aye, save that your Heralds concern themselves with the people, and the Tayledras with the land."

  "Valdemar is the people; we could pack up and flee again, as we did at the founding, and still be Valdemar. I suspec
t the same would be true of you, if you'd only admit it."

  "Na, the Tayledras are bound to the land, cannot live outside the Pelagirs; we must - " Starwind was interrupted by the scream of a hawk somewhere above his head. He threw up his forearm, and a large, white raptor plunged down out of the canopy of leaves to land on Starwind's arm. Vanyel winced, then saw that the Tayledras wore white leather forearm guards, which served to keep the wicked talons from his flesh.

  It was a gyrefalcon; its wings beat the air for a moment before it settled, its golden eyes fixed on Starwind's face.

  The Tayledras smoothed its head with one finger, then stared into the hawk's eyes for a long, long time, seeming to be reading something there.

  Then, without warning, he flung up his arm, launching it back into the air from his wrist. The falcon's wings beat against the thick, damp air, then it gained height and vanished back up into the tree branches.

  "Bad news?" Savil asked.

  "Nay - good. The situation is not so evil as we feared. Moondance is wearied, but he shall return by sunrise."

  "I'm glad to hear something is going right for someone," Savil replied, sighing.

  "Indeed," the Adept replied, turning those strange, unreadable eyes on Vanyel. "Indeed. Young Vanyel, I would advise you to walk about, regain your health, eat and rest. When Moondance returns and is at full strength, your schooling will begin."

  So he did as he was told to do; exploring what Starwind called "the vale" from one end to the other. It was shaped like a teardrop, and smaller than it seemed; there were so many pools and springs, waterfalls and geysers, and all cloaked in incredible greenery that effectively hid paths that came within whispering distance of each other, that it gave the illusion of being an endless wilderland.

  It kept him occupied, at least. The vale was so exotic, so strange, that he could lose himself in it for hours - and forget, in watching the brightly colored birds and fish, how very much alone he was.

  Half of him longed for the time - before Tylendel. The isolation of that dream-scape. The other half shrank from it. He no longer knew what he wanted, anymore, or what he was.

  He certainly didn't know what to do about Yfandes; he needed her, he loved her, but that very affection was a point of vulnerability, another place waiting to be hurt. She seemed to sense his confusion, and kept herself nearby, but not at hand, Mindspeaking only when he initiated the contact.

  Savil was staying clear of him, which helped. When Moondance finally made an appearance, he made some friendly overtures, but didn't go beyond them; Vanyel was perfectly content to leave things that way.

  When he asked, the younger Tayledras acted as a kind of guide around the vale, pointing out things Vanyel had missed, explaining how the mage-barrier kept the cold - and other things - out of the vale.

  The elusive hertasi never appeared, although their handiwork was everywhere. Clothing vanished and returned cleaned and mended, food appeared at regular intervals, rooms seemed to sweep themselves.

  When the vale became too familiar, Vanyel tried to catch a glimpse of them. Anything to keep from thinking.

  Then he was given something else to think about.

  :You fail,: Starwind said in clear Mindspeech. He was seated cross-legged on the rock of the floor beyond the glowing blue-green barrier, imperturbable as a glacier. -.Again, youngling. :

  :But - : Vanyel protested from the midst of the barrier-circle the Adept had cast around him, .I - : He was having a hard time shaping his thoughts into Mindspeech.

  :You,: Starwind nodded. .-Exactly so. Only you. Until you match your barrier and merge it with mine, mine will remain. And while mine remains, you cannot pass it, and I will not take you from this room. :

  Vanyel drooped with weariness; it seemed that the Tayledras mage had been schooling him, without pause or pity, for days, not mere hours. This was the seventh - or was it eighth? - such test the Adept had put him to. Starwind would go into his head, somehow, show him what was to be done. Once. Then Vanyel fumbled his way through whatever it was. As quickly as Vanyel mastered something, the Adept sprang a trial of it on him.

  There was no sign of exit or entrance in this barren, rock-walled room where he'd been taken, and no clue as to where in the complex of ground-level rooms it was. There was only Starwind, his pointed face as expressionless as the rock walls.

  Vanyel didn't know what to think anymore. These new senses of his - they told him things he wasn't sure he wanted to know. For instance - there was something in this valley. A power - a living power. It throbbed in his mind, in time with his own pulse. He had told Savil, thinking he must be ill and imagining it. She had just nodded and told him not to worry about it.

  He hadn't asked her much, or gone to her often. If I don't touch, I can't be hurt again. The half-unconscious litany was the same, but the meaning was different. I’II don't open myself, I won't be open to loss either.

  The Tayledras, Starwind and Moondance, alternately frightened and fascinated him. They were like no one he'd ever known before, and he couldn't read them. Starwind in particular was an enigma. Moondance seemed easier to reach.

  But there was always that danger. Don't reach; don't touch, whispered the part of him that still hurt. Don't try.

  There had been a point back at Haven when he'd tried to reach out, first to Savil, then to Lissa. He'd wanted someone to depend on, to tell him what to do, but the moment he'd tried to get them to make his decisions for him, they'd pushed him gently away.

  Now - no more; all he wanted was to be left alone.

  It seemed, however, that the Tayledras had other plans.

  Savil had come to get him in the morning, after several days of wandering about on his own, reminding him of what Starwind had said about being schooled in controlling these unwanted powers of his. He'd followed her through three or four rooms he hadn't seen before into -

  something -

  He wasn't sure what it was; it had felt a little like a Gate, but there was no portal, just a spot marked on the floor. He'd stumbled across it, whatever it was, and found himself on the floor of this room, a room with no doorways.

  Savil had appeared behind him, but before he could say anything, she'd just given him a troubled look, said to Starwind, "Don't hurt him, shayana," and left. Stepped into thin air and was gone. Left him alone with this - this madman. This unpredictable creature who'd been forcing him all morning to do things he didn't understand, using the powers he hadn't even come to terms with possessing, much less comprehending.

  "Why are you doing this to me?" he cried, ready to weep with weariness. Starwind ignored the words as if they had never been spoken.

  :Mindspeech, Chosen,: came Yfandes' calm thought, -.That is part of his testing. Use Mindspeech.:

  He braced himself, sharpened his thoughts into a kind of dagger, and flung them at Starwind's mind.

  :Why are you DOING this to me?:

  .-Gently,: came the unruffled reply. .-Gently, or I shall not answer you. :

  Well, that was more than he'd gotten out of the Adept in hours. :Why?: he pleaded.

  :You are a heap of dry tinder,: Starwind replied serenely. :You are a danger to yourself and those around you. It requires only a spark to send you into an uncontrolled blaze. I teach you control, so that the fires in you come when you will and where you will.: He stared at Vanyel across the shimmering mage-barrier. :Would you have this again?:

  He flung into Vanyel's face memories that could only have come from Savil - a clutch of Herald-trainees weeping hysterically, infected with his grief; Mardic flying through the air, hitting the wall, and sliding down it to land in an unconscious heap; the very foundations of the Palace shaking -

  :No - : he shuddered.

  .-There could be worse - : Starwind showed him what he meant by "worse." A vivid picture of Withen dead - crushed like a beetle beneath a boot - by the powers Vanyel did not yet comprehend and could not direct.

  :NO!: He tried to deny the very possibility that he could do anyth
ing of the kind, rejecting the image with a violence that -

  - that made the floor beneath him tremble.

  .-You see?: Starwind said, still unperturbed. :You see? Without control, without understanding, you can - and will - kill, without ever meaning to. Now - :

  Vanyel hung his head, and wearily tried to match the barrier one more time.

  Savil ran for the pass-through, in response to Starwind's urgent summons, Moondance a bare pace behind her. She hit the permanent set-spell, a kind of low-power Gate, at a run; there was the usual eyeblink of vertigo, and she stumbled onto the slate floor of Starwind's Work Room and right into the middle of a royal mess.

  Starwind was only now picking himself up off the floor behind her; there was a smell of scorched rock and the acrid taint of ozone in the air. And small wonder; the area around all around Vanyel in the center of the Work Room was burned black.

  Lying sprawled at one side of the burned area was the boy himself, scorched and unconscious.

  Moondance popped through the pass-through, glanced from one fallen body to the other, and made for the boy as needing him the most. That left Starwind to Savil.

  She gave him her hands and helped him to his feet; he shook his head to clear it, then pulled his hair back over his shoulders. "God of my fathers," he said, passing his hand over his brow. "I feel as if I have been kicked across a river.''

  Savil ran a quick check over him, noted a channel-pulse and cleared it for him. "What happened?" she asked urgently, keeping one hand on his elbow to steady him. "It looks like a mage-war in here."

  "I believe I badly frightened the boy," Starwind said, unhappily, checking his hands for damage. "I intended to frighten him a little, but not so badly as I did. He was supposed to be calling lightning and he was balking. He plainly refused to use the power he had called. I grew impatient with him - and I cast the image of wyrsa at him. He panicked; and not only threw his own power, he pulled power from the valley-node. Then he realized what he had done and aborted it the only way he could at that point, pulling it back on himself." Starwind gave her a reproachful glance. "You told me he could sense the node, but you did not tell me he could pull from it."