To Light A Candle

“I’m going with you,” Idalia said, a dangerous note in her voice.

“Such an army cannot be gathered overnight,” Jermayan said reassuringly. “I am certain that the Healers will release you by the time we are ready to depart. And I will be grateful for the counsel of a… fellow Mage.”

Idalia reached out and clasped his hand. “I know that Bonding with Ancaladar wasn’t exactly what you expected,” she said gently.

“Nothing about my life has been as I expected it would be,” Jermayan said fervently. “Yet I would change nothing,” he said, gazing deeply into her eyes.

“I think I’ll see you both later,” Kellen said, getting quickly to his feet. He set his empty cup down on the nearest flat surface, and backed hastily out of the room.

He doubted either of them noticed.

—«♦»—

THE first person he ran into on his way out was Vestakia, and to his surprise she was also wearing a green Healer’s robe.

“Apparently there are things I can do besides herd goats,” she said cheerfully, noticing his startled expression. “How’s Idalia?”

“She and Jermayan are fine,” Kellen said, surprised at how disgruntled he sounded.

“And Ancaladar?” Vestakia asked, apparently not noticing Kellen’s mood at all.

“Fine, I suppose. I haven’t seen him at all, since, well… you know.”

“Oh, he’s found a nice place to live up in the meadows back beyond the House of Sword and Shield. Very private, so he isn’t bothered too much by people who just want to stare at him. And much happier, he says, not having to spend all his time hunting his dinner. He says he much prefers the nice fat sheep and cows Jermayan is providing for him. Are you terribly busy right now, by any chance?”

“I ought to be at the House of Sword and Shield myself, catching up on all the lessons I’ve missed,” Kellen said cautiously, “but… no.”

“Then come and see Sandalon,” Vestakia said, as briskly as as any nurse. “All the children would like to see you, come to that—and to hear about Ancaladar.”

The children were gathered together in a bright light-filled room filled with toys and books. Sitting quietly in one corner was an Elven Healer, her hair the silvery-blue of great age.

Even Alkandoran was there. The Elven boy greeted Kellen with a wary smile. He looked hollow-eyed and unhappy, and Kellen felt a deep pang of sympathy. Alkandoran was still a child by Elven standards, but old enough to think of himself as an adult. He’d known better than any of the other children the true extent of the horrors they’d faced, but from what Lairamo had said, without his calm steadiness during their captivity, things might have gone much worse.

Kellen smiled back, and reached out and touched him lightly on the shoulder. “You did well,” he said quietly. “You did all there was to do, and you did it well.”

The boy’s troubled expression eased just a little.

“Kellen!” Sandalon launched himself at Kellen. “Did you see the dragon? Is Jermayan—I mean, one hears that—”

“One hears that a dragon—his name is Ancaladar—has come to live in Sentarshadeen, and has Bonded to Jermayan, and so now Jermayan is going to become an Elven Mage, just like Great Queen Vielissiar Farcarinon.”

“Perhaps Father will not mind if he is not King any longer,” Sandalon said with a small frown.

“What… ? Oh. No, Sandalon. Andoreniel will still be King. Jermayan will just be a Mage. I don’t think Jermayan would like to be King.” I don’t think Jermayan wants to be a Mage, either, but he doesn’t have much choice there.

“Oh.” Sandalon’s frown cleared. “That’s all right then.”

“Perhaps you have come to tell us stories,” Vendalton said hopefully, sidling closer. “About Jermayan and the dragon.”