Magic's Pawn

Now Savil gave him a measuring look of her own. 'Not at all,' she said slowly,

'Not a note since then. Margret says there's dust collecting on that lute of his.'

'Lord and Lady!' Tylendel bit his lip, and looked away, all his attention turned inward. 'I didn't know it was that bad. I thought he might at least be playing for those social butterflies he's collected.'

'Not a note,' Savil repeated positively. 'Is that bad?'

'For a lad who's certainly good enough to get a lot of praise from his sycophants? For one whose only ambitions lay with music? It's bad. It's worse than bad; we broke his dream for him. Savil, I take back the first half of what I said.' Tylendel rubbed his neck, betraying a growing unease. He looked up at the ceiling, then back down at her, his eyes now frank and worried. ''We have a problem. A serious problem. That boy is bleeding inside. If we can't get him to open up, he may bleed himself to death.'

'How do we get at him?' Savil asked, taking him at his word. Her weakness - and what made her a bad Field Herald, although it was occasionally an asset in training proteges - was in dealing with people. She didn't read them well, and she didn't really know how to handle them in a crisis situation. This business with Tylendel and his twin and the feud, for instance -

I would never have thought of this solution - desensitizing him, weaning him into thinking about it logically by bringing him to the edge over and over but never letting him slip past that edge. Bless Jaysen. And damn him. Gods, every time we play this game it wreaks as much damage on me as it does on poor 'Lendel. I'm still vibrating like a harpstring.

Tylendel pondered her question a long time before answering, his handsome face utterly quiet, his eyes again turned inward. 'I just don't know, Savil. Not while he's still rebuffing every overture he gets. We need some time for this to build, I think, and then some event that will break his barricades for a minute. Until that happens, we won't get in, and he'll stay an arrogant bastard until he explodes.'

She felt herself grow cold inside. 'Suicidal?'

To her relief, Tylendel shook his head. 'I don't think so; he's not the type. It wouldn't occur to him. Now me - never mind. No, what he'll do is go out of control in one way or another. He'll either do it fast and have some kind of breakdown, or slowly, and debauch himself into a state where he's got about the same amount of mind left as a shrub.'

'Wonderful.' She placed her right hand over her forehead, rubbing her eyebrows with thumb and forefinger. 'Just what I wanted to hear.'

Tylendel made one of his expressive shrugs. 'You asked.'

'I did,' she said reluctantly. 'Gods, why me?'

'If it's any comfort, it's not going to happen tomorrow. ''

'It better not. I have an emergency Council session tonight.' She sighed, and rubbed her hands together. 'I'll probably be up half the night, so don't wait up.'

'Does that mean the interview is over?' he asked quirking one corner of his mouth.

'It does. You can have the suite all to yourself tonight - just don't leave crumbs on the floor or grease on the cushions. I wouldn't care, but Margret will take your hide off in one piece. And don't look for the lovebirds, either - they're out on a fortnight Field trial with Shallan and her brood. So you'll be all alone for the evening.'

'Oh, gods, all alone with the beautiful Vanyel - you really want to test my self- control, don't you!' He laughed, then sobered, shoving away from the wall and straightening. 'On the other hand, this might give me the chance I was talking about. If I get him alone, maybe I can get him to open up a bit.''

Savil shrugged and pushed away from the wall herself. 'You're better than I with people, lad, that's why I asked your advice. If you think you have an opportunity, then take it. Meanwhile, I have to go consult with the Queen's Own.'

'And from there, straight to the meeting? No time for a break?' Tylendel asked, sympathetically. She nodded.

He reached for her shoulders and embraced her closely. 'See that you eat, teacher,' he murmured into her hair. 'I want you to stay around for a while, not wear yourself into another bout of pneumonia, and maybe kill yourself this time.

Even when I hate you, you old bitch, you know I love you.'

She swallowed down another lump in her throat, and returned the embrace with a definite stinging in her eyes.

'I know, love. Don't think I don't count on it.' She swallowed again, closed her eyes, and held him as tightly, a brief point of stability in a world that too often was anything but stable. 'I love you, too. And don't you ever forget it.'

The emptiness of the suite almost oppressed Tylendel. With the 'lovebirds' gone, Savil due (so the dinnertime rumor in the kitchens had it) for a till-dawn Council session in her capacity as speaker for those Heralds teaching proteges, and Vanyel presumably entertaining his little coterie of followers, there was nothing and no one to break the stifling silence. It closed around him like a shroud, until the very beating of his heart was audible. Outside the windows it was as dark as the heart of sin, and so overcast not even a hint of moon came through. His scalp was damp, hot, and prickly. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck and soaked into his collar. It felt a whole lot later than it actually was; time was crawling tonight, not flying.

Tylendel gave up trying to read the treatise on weather-magic Savil had assigned him and switched to a history instead. A handwritten pamphlet on weatherworking was not what he needed to be reading right now, anyway; not with a storm threatening. His energy control often wasn't as good as he'd like, and he didn't want to inadvertently augment what was coming in. He was a lot better at controlling his subconscious than he had been, but there was no point in taking chances with Savil out of reach.

That storm was at least part of what was making the suite seem stuffy; Tylendel Sensed the thunderheads building up in the west even though he couldn't see them from where he was sprawled on the couch of the common room. That was the Gift that made him a Herald-Mage trainee and not just a Herald-