Storm Warning

'I don't like it either, ke'chara,' he said instead, very quietly. 'To tell you the truth, I'm terrified. I'd much rather it was you beside me; Karal has never served as a channel before, and no matter how well Altra prepares him for it, this will still be an entirely new experience for him. What's more, I don't like the idea of you being at the most volatile of the key-points! Elspeth may be an Adept, but she is very young in her power, and I had much rather that you had someone experienced beside you.'

'You aren't experienced—' Firesong began, then coughed sardonically. 'Of course. You have all that secondhand experience to draw on, correct?'

He had not been distracted by An'desha's own, very real, concern for him. Ah, well, I tried, An'desha thought.

'You were the one who rightly insisted that I learn to use those memories,' he began.

Firesong interrupted him. 'Oh, well, throw my own words in my face!' he replied angrily. 'And what next? I suppose now that you have all this experience at your behest, I am no longer interesting to you! Shall I expect to find myself left by the wayside, with the rest of the unwanted discards?'

There was more in the same vein, and it was a very good thing that Karal and Talia had seen the signs of this turnabout in Firesong and had warned An'desha. This would have been very hurtful, had An'desha not understood what was behind it all.

Firesong, possibly for the first time in his life, was jealous and afraid—afraid that An'desha would simply walk off and leave him behind. He could, now. He was no longer frightened and dependent. Firesong had never been in the position of the courter, rather than the courted, and he had no idea how to deal with it.

Firesong was also afraid for An'desha; the substitution of two mages and a channel for a real Adept was dangerous enough to make An'desha's hair stand on end when he stopped to think about it. Only his faith in Karal allowed him to even consider it.

Karal will allow himself to be burned out before he breaks, he thought, as he let Firesong continue to rant. He has changed, too.

He knew what Firesong's conscious intention was—to make him so emotionally wrought up that he would give in, and let Firesong find some other solution to the situation.

There was only one problem with that idea. An'desha had spent too much time with Karal. I suppose a sense of responsibility must be contagious, he thought, a bit wryly.

'Aren't you even listening to me?' Firesong cried desperately. 'Don't you care what I'm saying, what I'm going through?'

'Yes,' he replied, reaching out to catch Firesong's hands in his own. 'But more importantly, I have listened to everything you didn't say, but meant. You are afraid for me, and you think I am in great danger. You are afraid I will leave you, that I no longer care for you. You are right in the first instance, and completely, absolutely, utterly wrong in the second.'

Firesong's hands tightened on his; Firesong's silvery eyes begged for something he could hold in his heart.

'I am in danger; all of us are in danger. If we do nothing, your people, mine, and all these friends in this adopted land of ours will suffer, and maybe die.' His eyes, he hoped, told Firesong that this was wholly the truth, nothing held back. 'If we try to change this plan—' He sighed. 'I must tell you that I do not know what difference the changes will make. Altra swears that this is the optimal use of our powers, and that anything less will not guarantee success. With all of my so-called 'experience,' I cannot tell you if he is right or wrong, but I am willing to trust him.'

Firesong nodded, reluctantly.

'I will not leave you.' He said that with such force that Firesong winced. 'I am not tired of you, nor bored with you, nor do I find you less than my equal.' He allowed a hint of a smile to flick across his lips. 'I do find you my superior in more than you know.' Now he tightened his hands on Firesong's. 'I have never said this in so many words, ashke, and I believe it is time that you heard it.'

And take this with you, to hold in your heart.

'I love you.' He said it softly, simply, and with all the conviction in his body, mind, and soul, and not entirely sure that even this would satisfy him.

But the truth is often enough in itself. So it was, now.

They made an odd little group; Altra beside Florian, An'desha in his Tayledras finery beside Karal in his sober black, holding the reins of Trenor. An'desha would have to ride Florian as soon as they got through the Gate; he wouldn't be fit to sit on an ordinary horse afterward. They would need to ride for about two days to get from the place An'desha knew—where he and all the others had crossed into Valdemar from Hardorn, fleeing the destruction