'I do not feel well, but I shall survive,' he replied. He gave Vree a toss to send him to a perch above the lair 'doorway' and stood, leaning (he hoped) casually, against the doorpost. The young man entered with his spirit- horse. The young woman's spirit-horse started to follow, and he averted his eyes with discomfort-Then he found himself sliding dizzily toward the ground, clinging not-socasually to the rock as his knees buckled.
Quickly, the young woman knelt beside him and unsheathed her sword.
'Peace, brother, she means no harm,' Treyvan said calmly.
Darkwind wasn't so sure. He tried to get up a hand to fend her off-but instead, she put the hilt of the thing in his hand.
And he heard a strange, gravelly voice in his mind' She says if I don't Heal you she's going to drop me down the nearest well,' the sword told him, annoyance warring with amusement in the overtones of its-her-mind-voice. 'I think she must have been taking lessons in rudeness from her predecessor. And knowing Her Highness, she probably would.' He nearly dropped the thing in shock, and only long training-never, never, never drop a blade-kept his numb fingers clutched to the hilt.
'Huh. Nothing too bad-overwork, under-rest. And-: He Felt the thing probing him and his memory, then suddenly pulling back. 'oh, youngling,' the sword said, dropping all cynicism. 'You've had more heartbreak than anyone should ever face in a lifetime, and that much I can't Heal. But I'll do my best for you. Open your shields to me.' She sounded so much like one of his teachers, an old, old Adept who had ordered him about as if she had been his mother, that he obeyed without thinking twice. She took instant action; in the next moment a gentle warmth stole over him, making him relax still further. He closed his eyes gratefully and let it in. Healers had worked on him before, but that had been for a major injury, not for general exhaustion.
First came the warmth and relaxation; then came new energy, new strength. It rose in him like a tide, rather than a flood; a rising tide of warmth and golden-green light that touched him within and without, folding him in great wings of brilliance, sheltering him as he had not been protected since he was a child. But the blade not only filled him with renewed physical energy, she also reopened his long-unused mage-channels, replenishing him with magical power as well.
He was vaguely offended at first, but then practicality took hold. He had said he was a mage. Any reasons for renouncing powers were gone.
There was, in fact, every reason why he should take up mage-craft again.
'Thank you,' he told the blade. thank the girl,' Need responded. 'oh, I was an Adept, but never with the ability she has.
She and her teacher were the first in I don't know how long that fought me and won. And all this power-it's coming through her.
So save your thanks for her. I'll be done soon.' The blade was as good as its word; the dizziness and weakness were gone, and shortly after that, he felt as refreshed as if he had never endured the stresses of the past five days.
He stood up and gingerly passed the sword back to its bearer. 'That was kindly done,' he said, with all the courtesy he could muster, embarrassed by the awareness that his dealings with her had been woefully short of courtesy up until this moment. 'Thanks is not adequate, but it is all I can offer.' She seemed first surprised, then pleased, then blushed, averting her eyes. 'That's all right,' she said, 'I mean, you looked like you needed help. She doesn't like men much, but I figured I could convince her to do something for you.' He looked to the young lady and spirit-mare, nodding gravely. 'There have been troubles here,' he told her. 'There still are troubles-evil
ones-and you have tumbled unwitting into the midst of them. My time is short, my powers are strained, and my patience, alas, never was particularly good. Please, even if I offend you, never hesitate to follow my orders or Treyvan's. It may well mean not only your life but ours.' She looked back up at him, resentment warring with respect in her eyes. Respect won.
'I will,' she said, a little grudgingly, and he sensed that she was not often minded to follow anyone's orders, much less a stranger's. 'You're right, I suppose. We're not from around here; we can't possibly know what's going on.' Imperious, he noted thoughtfully. Used to giving the orders, not taking them. the sword called her 'Highness.' that may well be truth, rather than sarcasm.
'I am Darkwind k'sheyna,' he told her. 'This ruin is nominally part of k'sheyna territory; Treyvan and Hydona are the actual guardians here. There are few who would care to dispute boundaries with them.' He meant that as a subtle warning, but she cocked her head to one side, looked from him to Treyvan and back again, and said accusingly,
'There is something very wrong here. You said we've walked into a situation we don't understand-but everything, absolutely everything I've seen tells me that it's worse than that. You people are in trouble.' He narrowed his eyes speculatively. 'Why do you say this?' he asked before he thought.
'Well, I'm thinking of you, for one thing,' she said. 'Need says you were exhausted, that you'd gone days without rest. You don't do that unless you're in some kind of trouble. Everything around here seems-well, it feels like being on the edge of a battlefield, on the eve of a war.
And if that's what we've walked into, I'd like to know.' She gulped.
