Brightly Burning

She looked so much like Ilea in this mood that Pol couldn't help but smile; he covered his smile lest she misinterpret it as condescension rather than pride, and led the way to the dormitory and the Trainees' rooms.

Down the long corridor and through a door at the end, then up a wooden staircase lit at intervals by lamps with the flames turned low, he led his daughter to the second floor and the beginning of the dormitory rooms for the Trainees. Each child had his own room; not large rooms, but each had his own to himself, with a door he could close and even lock on the rest of the world if he chose to. Malken's room was on this floor; there were four more floors above this one, with the library at the top, and there were signs that the Collegium wing would have to be expanded again soon.

That thought made Pol uneasy; it hadn't occurred to him until now, but—

But when we're about to go to war, more Heralds are Chosen than usual.

As if to be ready to replace the ones that would inevitably fall to the enemy. Especially when the enemy was Karse, whose Sun-priests hated Heralds and their Companions with a fury that defied rational explanation.

He paused at Malken's room, so denoted by the little plaque with his name on the door, and nodded at Elenor. His daughter opened the door for him, and followed him inside, lighting a candle at the fire, then turning down the bedcovers so her father could place the boy in his bed.

Pol tucked him in, removing only his boots; he didn't want to risk rousing him enough to start him on his hysterical weeping again. Elenor knelt beside the bed for a moment with one hand on Malken's pale forehead. When she stood up again, the little boy sighed once, deeply, then curled over on his side, the very picture of natural slumber.

They tiptoed out, closing the door behind them.

Elenor waited until they were in the stairway to confront her father.

'Satiran told you something, didn't he?' she demanded from behind and above him on the stairway. 'I saw your face—I know he did! What in Kernos' name did he tell you? That child was terrified! What frightened him so?' In this temper, her changable eyes had gone to a stormy darker color, with flecks of green.

'I'm not entirely certain,' he temporized. 'He had a vision—'

'A vision!' she replied, sounding more like her mother than he could have imagined. 'I think that's too mild a word for something that sends a child into screaming hysterics!'

By this time they had reached the ground floor, and he turned to face her. She looked up at him with pursed lips; he looked down at her wearing his best card-playing face.

Eventually she made a petulant little stamp of her foot. 'I can see you've no intention of telling me anything more,' she said sullenly, sounding more now like herself, a fourteen-year-old who has been cheated of an adult confession.

He smiled. 'I'm glad you understand,' he replied mildly, as she glowered at him.

'I don't understand, and I don't like it, but I also don't have a choice, do I?' she grumbled, tucking her wayward hair back into the snood she wore to keep it out of the way.

'No, you don't,' he agreed, and reached out to take her stiff body in his arms for a good hug. As he'd expected, she thawed, and returned the embrace.

'After all,' he murmured into her damply fragrant hair, 'I am your father. I should be able to keep some secrets from you.'

'Why?' she retorted, her good humor restored as she reluctantly pulled away from him to go back to her own quarters. 'You're only a mere man. Men can't possibly keep secrets from women; we know what you're going to do long before you do it.'

'You are learning far too much from your mother,' he accused mockingly, then kissed her on the forehead. 'Thank you for coming.'

'Thank you for trusting me.' She gave him one of her dazzling smiles, and turned to run silently down the corridor, pausing once to wave brightly before darting out the door into the rainy night.

He returned to his room, dropping his cheerful facade, and sat down in his fireside chair, propping his head on one hand to stare into the flames.

Flames....

What could such a vision mean?

:I suppose it could have been a hallucination and not a vision after all,: Satiran offered tentatively.

:But you don't think so. And neither do I. A hallucination like that would have to have some physical cause, and if there'd been a physical cause, Elenor would have spotted it and Malken would be in the charge of a full Healer right now.:

He felt Satiran's reluctant sigh. :True. Which leaves—Foresight. Hayka did say that the cause was his Gift coming on him all at once. Of all creatures, Hayka should be the one to really know what happened. Let me have a word with Jolene.:

:Certainly.: Jolene was Herald Evan's Companion; Evan was currently the teacher in charge of Trainees with Foresight. Whatever the vision meant, there was one thing certain; Malken had better be under Evan's tutelage tomorrow. When a Gift appeared full-blown, it needed training, and the Trainee needed close attention, even protection from his own abilities. And when it appeared that young, the child wasn't at all prepared to deal with it alone.

:There. Taken care of. They'll see to him as soon as he wakes up,: Satiran was back. :Right, then. Flames and the world on fire could be representative of a general condition of war.:

It was his turn to sigh. :Yes, it could. Malken has never seen warfare; his mind might only be