Meg wanted to get up and sit at the table, but Pela insisted that she stay put. She instructed the servants to lay the tray on the bed. As soon as they lifted the cover, Meg realized that she was ravenous. Which was good, because she had a feeling that Pela would have made her eat regardless.
“So,” Meg said, once she’d taken her first few bites. “What has happened with the plan to get Calen back?”
“There have been several crows back and forth,” Pela said. “I wasn’t there for all of the messages, but Mage Anders assured me that plans were being refined. He wouldn’t share the details with me, but I believed him that they were still working hard to arrange Calen’s return.”
“I hope so,” Meg said. “I will insist on more information when they come to see me, though.”
“That should be soon,” Pela said. “I can send for them as soon as you’re finished eating, if you like.”
“Yes,” Meg said. “That would be very welcome. Thank you, Pela.”
There was an immediate knock at the door. Meg wondered if Anders had been outside listening, waiting for the perfect moment to make an entrance. It seemed like something he would do.
Pela went to the door, but she only murmured something and then closed it again.
“Not the mages?” Meg asked as Pela turned back toward her.
“No,” Pela said. “It’s Wilem to see you, Princess. Might I suggest you have him return later?”
“No, it’s all right,” Meg said. “Let him come in.”
“But —”
“It’s all right, Pela,” Meg said. Pela looked like she wanted to say something else, but only nodded and went back to the door. After a moment, Wilem stepped hesitantly inside.
“Oh, Princess,” he said. “You’re not — I can come back —”
“It’s all right,” Meg said again. “I’m not supposed to leave this bed for some time yet, so I’m certainly happy to have visitors. I’m — I’m glad to see you’re well. You seem to have recovered from your injuries?”
“Yes,” he said, coming closer. He stood awkwardly a few feet from the edge of the bed. Pela stood back by the door, arms crossed, face carefully blank. “I was very sorry to hear that you had been injured.”
“Not as badly as I might have been, all things considered,” Meg said lightly. Memories of fire and falling and screaming tried to flash across her inner vision, but she pushed them forcefully aside. That was over now. “They tell me I’ll heal in time. And Mage Serek may be able to help speed things along. It was worth it, of course. Small price for what we gained.”
“I don’t know that I’d call it a small price, Princess. But certainly we needed that victory.” Meg wondered if he realized that he spoke of Trelian’s people as “we” now.
“Captain Varyn trained his company well,” she said.
He smiled. “Spoken like a true soldier. And I’m sure he did, and I’m sure everyone in your company helped earn that victory. But you know that they could not have done it without you. You and your dragon, too.” His smiled widened. “They said you were glorious.”
Meg couldn’t help smiling back. He always did have an infectious smile. “Who said that?”
“The soldiers. They’re all talking about it. I think half of them are in love with you. And the other half are in love with Jakl.”
Meg laughed, but felt herself blushing as well.
“It’s good to see you smiling,” he said.
Meg wasn’t sure what to say back to that, so she didn’t say anything. She was still smiling, though.
“Yes, well,” Pela said, stepping forward, “the princess needs to finish her lunch and get back to resting.”
“Of course,” Wilem said at once. “I’ll visit again soon, if — if that’s all right.”
“I’d like that,” Meg said, surprised to realize it was true.
He gave her a little bow and then walked out. Pela closed the door quickly behind him.
“Oh, Princess. You should have let me send him away,” Pela said, practically wringing her hands.
“Why? There’s no harm in —”
“But your hair!” Pela burst out.
Meg stared at her. “What — what about my hair?” she asked finally.
Pela swallowed. “I was waiting to tell you until after you’d eaten. I made Maurel promise not to say anything. The fire — it caught in your hair, Princess. We’ll need to — to cut it, I think. To even it out.”
“Bring me a mirror,” Meg said.
Pela did. Meg took a breath and then held it up before her.
Oh.
That’s what Maurel had been staring at. Earlier it would have been hidden by the bandages. The left side still looked all right, if rather messy, but on the right . . . her hair was almost entirely burned away on the right side. Some of the back as well. At least her ear didn’t look too bad.
“I’m so sorry, Princess,” Pela whispered. She sounded close to tears.
“Pela, please,” Meg said. “It’s not that bad. I mean, yes, it looks terrible, but . . . goodness, it’s only hair. It will grow back. Better my hair than my head!”
“Of course,” Pela said. “I know. I just — I had hoped — you didn’t need to let that boy see you that way.”
Meg shocked herself by laughing. But she couldn’t help it; Pela’s dismay was so oddly directed sometimes! “Pela, I don’t think Wilem cares what my hair looks like. But if it’s distressing you so much . . . let’s take care of it right now.”
Pela brightened, happy to have a course of action. “Yes, that would be good. It needs a good washing as well. I’ll get my supplies.”
She didn’t need to go very far; apparently she’d had everything ready. She did agree to let Meg move — slowly and carefully — to a chair for this, at least. Meg closed her eyes and let Pela take over. She realized that there had been a time when she probably would have been very upset about having half of her hair burned away. When she would have been mortified at the idea anyone might see her under those conditions. But she was still just so relieved to be safe, to be alive, to know that they’d accomplished their mission, that she couldn’t work up much emotion over burned hair and a few minor injuries.
Pela took her time, snipping carefully, but eventually she stood back and nodded, satisfied. She brought Meg the mirror.
Pela had cut her hair short all the way around. It was longer in the front than in the back, but somehow that didn’t look as strange as Meg would have guessed. The longest pieces came just about down to her nose. The shortest pieces, in the back, were barely half an inch in length. She tilted her head, taking a good look. She rather liked it, she thought. It’s not something she ever would have chosen if not for the burning, but she liked it.
She looked up at Pela. “You’ve done a lovely job,” she said. “Truly. I might just decide to keep it this way!”
Pela blushed and retrieved the mirror. “You are very kind, Princess. Of course it will grow back in time, but I do think you look just as pretty with short hair as with long.” She helped Meg back into bed, pushed the tray of food suggestively closer again, then turned away and busied herself with collecting her scissors and other supplies.
When the next knock came at the door, it was Serek, accompanied by Anders and Medic Sadie.
“Princess!” Anders exclaimed before Serek could open his mouth. “You’ve survived! And gotten a haircut!”
“It would appear so,” Meg said, smiling.
Serek approached and asked permission to look at her injuries. Medic Sadie assisted him in unwrapping the bandages, and he studied her shoulder and thigh with a thoughtful expression. “These are healing nicely,” he said. “I can help them along a little, though, if you would like?”
“Yes, please,” Meg said. “Anything to get me out of this bed faster!”
The medic frowned at that, but she didn’t object. Serek placed a hand on her shoulder and seemed to concentrate; Meg felt a strange surge of . . . something, and then the
little pain that had been there was gone. After a moment, Serek repeated the process with her thigh.
“You’ll still have a bit of scarring, I’m afraid,” he said. “And you should still stay off your leg as much as possible for at least the next few days. Your arm is set very well — I’m inclined to leave that to heal naturally, I think. With broken bones, accelerating the healing with magic can sometimes be less clean in the end.”
“Yes, of course, whatever you think is best,” Meg said. She felt a little winded from the healing of her shoulder and thigh. She thought she was all right with not having him do that to her arm just now, too.
Anders had wandered over to the bedside table. “The Sweetest Dark of Midnight!” he exclaimed, picking up one of the books. “I love this story!”
Everyone ignored him, except Pela, who beamed at him with approval.
“Medic, I’d like a word alone with the mages, please,” Meg said.
The woman frowned again, but obediently collected her things and left.
“All right,” Meg said once the door had closed behind her. “When is Calen coming home?”
The mages looked at each other. Meg sighed in exasperation. If she’d had full use of her arms, she would have throttled them.
“Just tell me!”
“Tonight,” Serek said. “We hope.”
“Tonight!” Meg exclaimed. “But that’s wonderful!”
“Yes,” Anders agreed. “Unless it all goes horribly wrong.”
Now it was Serek’s turn to sigh in exasperation. “We don’t expect it to go horribly wrong,” he said. “But it’s a dangerous plan, and so, yes, there is always the chance that something will happen.”
“What is the plan?” Meg asked at once.
“Do you remember when Calen transported you and himself to . . . well, wherever you went after Sen Eva tried to . . .”
Meg looked at him. “Did you think I could forget?”
“Ah. No. Of course not,” Serek said. “Well, he’s going to use a similar spell to transport himself back here.”
“He can do that?” Meg asked, surprised. “Why didn’t he just do that in the first place?”
“He needed to make sure there was a safe place to transport to,” Serek said. He explained briefly about the dangers of transporting oneself into a space already occupied by a thing or a person. By the time he was finished, Pela looked more than a little green.
“But — but you’ve worked it out,” Meg said. “So there will be a safe place?”
“Yes. We’re using his room. It’s a place he knows well, of course, and can envision clearly, and that will help. And it will be unlikely that anyone would be in there unexpectedly.”
“Make sure that horrible gyrcat isn’t around,” Meg said at once. Serek looked startled. Anders looked thoughtful, then excused himself. They could hear him out in the hallway after a moment, softly calling, “Here, Lyrimon!”
Meg looked at Serek, confused. “I thought you said it wasn’t happening until tonight.”
“Yes,” Serek said. “Midnight. But no matter how carefully you make a plan, there is always the chance of last-minute . . . complications. So we want to make sure the room is kept clear, just in case. I admit we’d forgotten about Lyrimon. That would, ah, not be good. If he were there.”
“I should think not!” Meg said. “All right. I’m coming down there, of course.”
“There’s no need —” Serek began, but Meg cut him off.
“You know that you can not possibly keep me away,” she said.
He hesitated, then nodded. “That’s probably true,” he said. “All right. But you must stay back where we tell you. No arguing.”
“I understand,” she said.
When Serek left, Pela came over to sit beside Meg on the bed. “It will be a great relief to have Calen back,” Pela said.
“Yes,” Meg agreed. “But . . . I’m not sure how I’m going to get down there. Do you think you could help me walk that far?”
“No,” Pela said at once. “You can’t. You’re supposed to stay off your leg.”
“But —”
“Don’t worry,” Pela said. “I’ll think of something.”
In the end, Pela’s plan was not a very pleasing one. About two hours before midnight, Wilem returned to Meg’s room. He came in, looked at Pela, sighed, and then looked at Meg apologetically.
“If you’ll permit me, Princess,” he said. “Pela has asked that I help you get down to the mages’ quarters.”
“I will be very grateful for your help,” Meg said. “But how?”
“I’m afraid it won’t be very dignified,” he said. “Or comfortable.”
It wasn’t. He had Pela help her stand up, and then, with one more apology, he picked her up and hoisted her as gently as he could over his shoulder. Meg squawked in protest, but both Wilem and Pela assured her that this would be the quickest way. She subsided, but she could feel her face burning a fiery red. She just hoped that no one saw them. And that his leg was truly fully healed. Pela walked ahead to clear the halls of anyone who might still be wandering around, just in case.
Wilem was breathing rather heavily when he deposited her in a chair in Serek’s study. Meg didn’t blame him. She was impressed that he’d been able to carry her that far. She guessed he’d gotten fairly strong while training with the soldiers, but still.
“If you need help getting back,” he said, “just have Pela send for me.”
“I would invite you to stay, but . . .”
Wilem shook his head. “It’s not my place to be here for this. I know. Just send for me if I can help you again.”
Anders watched him leave. “Such a nice boy,” he said. “And so handsome!”
Serek was standing outside the door to Calen’s room. If it were anyone else, Meg would have said he was hovering anxiously.
“Where’s Lyrimon?” Meg asked.
“Safe with your sister,” Anders said. “We told her it was very important that he stay with her tonight. It should be all right. I think Lyrimon was actually purring when I left.”
“Lyrimon doesn’t purr,” Serek said irritably.
“Not for you, apparently,” Anders said, winking at Meg.
Meg nodded, satisfied. Then she settled in to wait. Pela sat down next to her and took her hand. Meg didn’t expect anything to happen for some time yet, but it was only a few minutes before Serek straightened suddenly and said, “Something’s happening.”
There was an odd sound, almost like someone shouting from a great distance, and a strange sort of pressure in the air.
Serek rushed forward into Calen’s room. Anders was two steps behind. Meg lurched to her feet, ignoring Pela’s protests, and limped as fast as she could after them, injury be cursed.
When she got to the door, Serek was kneeling on the floor. Calen was there, sitting very still, his head in his hands.
“Calen,” Serek was saying. “Are you all right?” He had to ask twice before Calen responded.
“No,” Calen said finally. He lifted his head, and Meg gasped. He looked . . . different. Older. And — and so sad. There were tears running down his face.
“Calen,” she said. “Calen, what —?”
“It’s all right,” Serek said. His voice was more gentle than Meg ever would have imagined possible. “You’re safe now, son. You made it back.”
“I know,” Calen said. “But it’s not all right.” He looked around at them, but Meg didn’t think he was really seeing them. His face . . . his face was haunted, she thought. That was the word for it. Haunted and full of pain.
“What did he do to you?” Meg asked softly. She wanted to go toward him, wanted to touch him, to make sure he was real, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She was afraid he might disappear again if she did.
His eyes found hers, and now he seemed to see her, but there was no sense of recognition or relief in his expression that she could see.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Oh, god
s.”
Then he put his head in his hands again. And stayed that way for a long time.
CALEN WASN’T SURE HOW LONG HE stayed there, sitting on the floor of his room, Serek kneeling silently beside him. He knew they were waiting for him to talk to them, to tell them what had happened, to be glad that he was back. But all he could see was Helena’s face in his mind; all he could hear was her voice screaming at him to go, go right now! And then the sound of her dying as he fled like a coward.
You couldn’t have saved her, the voice in his head tried to tell him. But how did it know? What if he could have? He didn’t even try!
He wondered if he could just stay here forever, not moving. Not thinking.
Is that what you let her die for? For you to give up now?
And there could be only be one answer to that. Calen forced himself to sit back, raising his head.
Serek was gone. So was Anders and whoever else might have been there when he arrived.
Except Meg.
She was sitting beside him. Not touching him, just sitting close by.
“Hi,” she said when he looked at her.
“Hi,” he said back. He blinked. “You cut your hair.”
“Oh,” she said, reaching up to touch it. “Yes. I had to. Half of it was burned away by a flaming catapult missile. Pela was beside herself.”
“It looks nice.” Flaming catapult missile? “I guess things have been happening here, too, huh? Are you okay?”
She shrugged, then winced. “Ow. But yes. Mostly. I was injured a little, but I’ll heal. Jakl and I helped win a big battle with Lourin. They were preventing the Kragnir soldiers from coming to help us. They’re not anymore.”
“Did they just surrender as soon as they saw you were coming for them?” Calen asked, smiling. Gods, he’d missed this. Just talking.
She smiled back. “Not quite. But a whole lot of them surrendered when they saw what Jakl wanted to do to them after they hurt me.” She paused, then added, almost reluctantly, “We almost had them before that, though. Jakl and I were taking out all the catapults, and the Trelian soldiers were winning. But then they got me.” She paused again, her smile fading. “But Calen — are you okay? You don’t . . . you don’t seem okay.”
The Mage of Trelian Page 17
