Brightly Burning

answered his unspoken doubt with such passion that he blinked in surprise.

'You know,' Elenor continued, as she hovered at his elbow, ready to steady him if he wobbled, 'I think Father was hoping that I'd be Chosen by your Kalira instead of becoming a Healer. Then he'd have a double-family team to help train.'

'What?' Lan responded, not very cleverly, but that didn't seem to bother Elenor.

'We'd have been entirely family—Kalira is Satiran's daughter, and Pol is my father, you see. The daughters partnered and the fathers partnered. It would have had a nice symmetry.'

By this time they were in the garden and saw that the Herald and his Companion were waiting at the bench, so Lan was saved from having to answer, which was just as well. So his Companion was daughter to Herald Pol's Companion? He only hoped that there was not as much friction between stallion and filly as there was between himself and his parents.

:There isn't—other than Satiran wanting to protect me too much,: Kalira responded, highly amused.

:If my parents had been half as willing to protect me—: he told her ruefully, not needing to finish the thought. She knew; already she knew him, inside and out, good and bad, and she loved him anyway.

'Good morning, Lan,' Pol hailed him with a half wave. 'How are you feeling?' This morning all of the sternness seemed to have melted away from Pol's expression; his manner was easy and casual.

'Kind of shaken, sir,' Lan replied, then spotted the Guardsman stationed discreetly out of earshot. The man was trying to look as if he was there for some other purpose, but his eyes kept straying back to Lan.

:Is he there because they don't trust me?: he asked Kalira, not at all surprised. :I can't really blame them for that, I suppose....:

:It's the Guard's doing, not the Heralds'. When nothing happens for a while, they'll take the watchdog off of you,: she told him, indirectly confirming his guess. :But there is this—he's there as much to keep people from upsetting you as anything else. If anyone starts to make you unhappy, he's to take them away.:

Lan wished devoutly that he had gotten the benefit of such a watchdog a long time ago.

'Elenor, is Lan ready to move to Heralds' Collegium?' Pol asked, transferring his attention to his daughter.

'Not yet; a few more days,' she told him, with all of the authority of a Healer twice her age. 'We want him to have his meeting with his family here, before he gets surrounded by strangers.'

'Meeting?' he squeaked, taken entirely by surprise. 'What meeting?'

'Lan, your parents have to talk with you at some point,' Pol chuckled. 'You can't escape having a family by being Chosen, you know.'

Actually, he hadn't known; somewhere in the back of his mind he must have hoped that he wouldn't have to deal with his parents until he was all trained and a Herald in full Whites, with all the authority of the office behind him. How was he going to explain what had happened to them? They'd blame him for all the horrible things that had happened—

But Pol apparently understood his reluctance to face his family. 'Don't worry, I think you'll find that they are so overwhelmed by the fact that you've been Chosen that they won't have a great deal to say to you,' Pol told him, an amused sparkle in his eyes. Evidently the Herald wasn't at all worried at what Lan's parents might say or think.

Lan blinked and considered that statement. He wondered, now, what they'd been told about the fire and about being Chosen. Did they even know it was his Gift that had caused the fire?

:No,: said Kalira. :Outside of a very few people, no one has been told. It is being said that the fire was a terrible accident, caused by the boys who were beating you. Which it was, never doubt it, just not in the way that outsiders are assuming.:

Lan swallowed, and bit his lip. :Why?: he asked, as Pol watched him patiently. Was the Herald able to overhear this conversation?

:Because we are protecting you; the real story won't help anyone and will hurt you.: She tossed her head. :Now, your parents will have nothing to reproach you for, will they? I think you just might actually impress them.:

Well, becoming a Herald was a great honor, and it wasn't the sort of thing that his parents would have predicted for him. For that matter, it was the sort of surprise that could set them off-balance. He felt his spirits start to rise. This might not be so bad after all.

'Do you feel up to seeing them this afternoon?' Pol continued. 'After that, I can explain what you're about to go through and get you ready to move into the Collegium with the others, figure out what sort of classes you'll need to take, that sort of thing.'

Classes! He didn't sigh, but the idea of facing more classes so soon was a trifle depressing. He was so tired of being stuck in the middle of a bunch of children—

'You'll probably find that you're the youngest in some of your classes, the oldest in others, and smack in the middle in the rest,' Pol continued, apparently without noticing Lan's reaction. 'We get Trainees from every possible nook and cranny of the Kingdom, from fisher folk from Lake Evendim who can barely read to some of the highborn who've had tutors from the time they could talk. And all of them wind up being the worst in their classes at something. You'll also be learning things like fancy riding, tracking, path finding, weapons' training—those are all classes as well.'

Lan brightened considerably at that thought. 'If you can get my family to interrupt their work to come here, I would like to see them as soon as it can be arranged,' he said carefully.

Elenor smiled. 'You're doing them a disservice, Lavan,' she chided gently. 'They've been here every single day. They're very concerned about you.'

'They have? They are?' That thought left him as bemused as the idea of being a Heraldic Trainee.