Foundation

Now grinding things was no new task for Mags. He’d been put to that sort of work about the time he first remembered being in Cole Pieters’ custody. So he fished out the implements and the little packets of herbs and started grinding. He left one sprig of each intact and put it on the pile of powder he spilled out into the dish Lena held out for him.

Meanwhile the man kept glaring, while Bear asked questions in a coaxing tone of voice and the man occasionally answered with something besides “the eyes.” And Lena had her brows creased and her lips pursed in that way that Mags knew meant she was thinking very hard indeed.

Bear left off his examining and questioning when Mags finished the last of the herbs. Motioning both Mags and Lena out of the way, he began measuring things into the mortar, added a bit of liquid from a little flask he took out of the bag, then began mashing it all together with the pestle until he had a paste. Then he took bits of the paste that he carefully scooped out with the tiniest spoon Mags had ever seen, dusted his hands with what looked like flour, and began rolling the paste, scoop by scoop, into pellets. And when he had finished everything in the mortar, he began his measuring and mixing again.

Eventually it was done; he threw the remaining ground-up herbs on the fire, where they went up the chimney with a smell like bitter burning leaves. And now, at last, he turned to the man in gold and black, who was fuming furiously.

“First of all, your servant here hasn’t slept in so long he’s not even able to think anymore,” Bear said matter-of-factly. “Now maybe you know better than me why he hasn’t. But these pills I’ve made him are going to make his thoughts stop running around so he can sleep. But he says that this started when he crossed into Valdemar, and he claims it won’t stop until he leaves, so if you want to keep him alive, I suggest you send him home. He’s doing you no good here, and my pills won’t shut everything out for him. I tell you true, if he doesn’t get real sleep, he’ll die, and that’s a fact.”

The man’s face turned a deep crimson, and Bear added, “And if you don’t do something about your temper, you’ll burst a vein in your head like your father did and die.”

At that, the man went deathly white. “How did you know about my father?” he gasped.

Bear shrugged. “The way you are? Some things I can see about you? That runs in families. Cut down on red meat, stay away from strong drink, watch your temper if you want to see your son grow to be a man. Otherwise ...” He let his voice trail off. “At any rate, my lord, I’ve done what I can. Whether or not there actually is anything here in Valdemar to bother this servant of yours, he thinks there is, so get him out of here if you want him to live. Give him three of those—” He nodded at the pills. “Four times a day, at regular intervals. Even when he finally sleeps, wake him up to give them to him.”

He picked up his bag, and motioned to Mags and Lena, who followed him out. The servant closed the door behind them all.

“I think you may be the first man other than the King to get Lord Krahailak’s respect,” the servant said, looking impressed. “And you just a boy!”

Bear shrugged. “I just acted like my father. Hang if I can figure out what has that fellow so spooked, though. You sure you translated him right?”

The servant nodded as he led them back through the hallways. “He has been raving about the eyes for the last two days. But before then, in fact, ever since he arrived here, he has been acting ... nervously. As if he felt that something was watching him, but couldn’t see it. It is very strange. The Lord sent for him, and now, whatever it was he was supposed to do, he clearly can’t. That is why the Lord is in such a rage.”

“Well, he can be in a rage.” Bear shrugged. “Isn’t gonna change anything. That man is not going to do anything, and if he doesn’t go home, he may be that way forever.”

Suddenly Lena looked as if she had finally remembered what she had been trying to think of, and Mags could see she was fairly bursting with impatience to tell them. But she wasn’t going to do it in front of the servant. Only when the man left them at the exterior door, and they were safely out of earshot, did she burst out with it.

“I remember the eyes!” she exclaimed. “They’re vrondi.”

“They’re which-what?” Mags asked. He had read about a lot of things, but this was nothing that had shown up in any of the books he’d been going through so far. It sounded like a foreign thing.

“Vrondi. They’re in a song about Vanyel, how he made a spell to keep Valdemar safe.” She waved her hands around while she talked, excited now. “In the song, they are incredibly important to protecting Valdemar from supernatural threats. They’re sort of little spirit-tattletales. They find people that aren’t Heralds or Bards or Healers that are doing—things—and they run and tell the Heralds about it.”

“All right,” Mags said, puzzled. “So how come I ain’t never been told about ’em?”

“I don’t know ...” She shook her head. “I can look for more things about them, but I don’t know. But here is the other thing; they also watch the people that are doing those things until a Herald comes. And watch. And watch. You know how you can tell when someone is watching you? Well, imagine if there are dozens of invisible somethings watching you, all the time, and you can never get away. That’s the vrondi.”

“That’s crazy,” Mags said flatly as Bear stared at her. And it did sound incredibly silly, here in broadest daylight, with a perfectly solid building next to them, hard-packed snow under their feet, and enough of a chill wind to tease down the back of the neck as a reminder that winter was not over—oh no, not yet—and the coldest moons were yet to come.

She glared. “Don’t blame me, it’s what the song says. I found it in our archives when I was researching music that was written about being a Herald by other Heralds. When I asked my teacher, he laughed and said it was just one of those songs to scare children into being good, but what if it isn’t? I mean, it was written by another Herald after all, and one who knew Vanyel if the dates are right.” She crossed her arms over her chest, looking annoyed, a gesture a little marred by the heavy coat she wore that prevented her from actually crossing them.

“Yes, but—” Bear objected. “Dozens of invisible creatures who only exist to catch someone doing—what? I mean, it can’t be something common, or there’d be dozens of people like that man back there. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t know,” Lena replied stubbornly. “The page had gotten spoiled, and I couldn’t read what it was that the vrondi were supposed to watch for. I don’t know what it was. All I can guess is that there aren’t any Heralds that can see them anymore, and maybe that’s the problem. Since no Herald can see them, they can’t get one to pay attention, so they have to keep watching. And you’re right, that foreigner has to be