Brightly Burning

Herald Pol nodded. 'They have, every single member of the family; in fact, they were all here until they knew that you were going to be all right. Since then, each of your parents has been here at some point every day to find out how you were.'

'Then I guess I'd better see them,' Lan finally responded. He was still trying to wrap his mind around that, when Kalira suddenly looked up, off into the distance.

:Actually, they're here now,: she told him. :I didn't expect them so early.:

'I didn't either,' Pol responded with surprise, and it was only at that moment that Lan realized that Kalira could talk to both of them, if she chose to. Well, that could turn out to be very useful.

'Are you up to seeing them right now?' Pol asked him.

He shrugged; what other possible response was there? 'I suppose,' he said dubiously. 'Just as ready as I would be this afternoon, I guess.'

Elenor jumped to her feet—did the girl ever do anything at a leisurely pace?—and ran off, calling back over her shoulder, 'I'll have them sent out here!'

'She has plenty of other things to take care of at this time of the day,' Pol explained, as if he needed to supply an explanation for her abrupt departure.

A few moments later, Lan's mother and father appeared in the doorway nearest them, and approached tentatively down the sanded path. Tentatively! They looked at him with expressions he had never seen directed at himself before; they had nearly reached him before he recognized it as respect. Archer looked as he always did; well-groomed and dressed in tunic and trews of fine cloth of a subtle indigo. But Nelda's auburn hair had been carefully bound in a knot on the top of her head with silk ribbons, her gown was one she usually wore only for parties, a handsome, deep-scarlet wool with panels of her own embroidery set into the bodice, the front of the skirt, and the sleeves. She had taken a great deal of care with her appearance; probably because of the setting in which her son had found himself.

He stood up to meet them; his father extended his hand stiffly, as if Lan had become a stranger. Lan took it gingerly.

'How are you?' his father asked, anxiously. 'How are you now, I mean? Are you feeling better? Do you remember anything of what happened to you?'

Lan shook his head, not trusting his voice. 'Mostly the fire,' he said truthfully, 'and not much of that.'

His parents exchanged an unreadable glance, and some of the tension ran out of them. It was his mother, though, who flushed an unbecoming plum color, and said, 'I—Lan, I'm very sorry that I didn't believe you.'

That was the closest she was ever going to come to an apology, and Lan knew it. He also knew how much it cost her to say that much, and he sensed a different sort of strain building up among the three of them.

:Hold out your arms, silly,: Kalira whispered in his mind, as he stood there awkwardly and feeling completely at a loss for what to do or say next. Clumsily, he obeyed her, and that did, indeed seem to be what they were waiting for. They both embraced him, just as awkwardly as he.

The embrace didn't last long, but he felt much better after they broke it. He even managed a tentative smile for them.

'So. You're going to be a Herald, then.' His father rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, and looked from him to Kalira and back again.

'Not immediately,' he told them both, and scrubbed the toe of his gray boot in the dirt a little. 'I have an awful lot to learn first.'

'Still.' His father smiled slowly; his mother didn't exactly beam at him, but she certainly gave him a healthy dose of silent approval. 'A Herald! We're proud of you, Lan, that we are! It's hard to think of you being a Herald, but there you are in your uniform, and with your Companion and all—'

'Her name is Kalira,' he replied proudly, and Kalira stepped to his side and nodded her head to both of them.

:Suggest that you all walk in the garden,: Kalira prompted.

'Why don't we all take a walk while we talk,' he echoed. 'There in the garden—' He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the Palace gardens with their ornamental torches.

His father gaped. 'Us? Walk in the Royal gardens?' he stammered.

'I don't see any reason why not,' Pol put in casually. 'That's what they're there for.' He turned his attention pointedly to Lan. 'A walk for about a candlemark wouldn't be too taxing for you, and I have some things I must do that will keep me for about that long. I'll meet you back here when I'm finished; you go show your parents where you'll be living for the next couple of years.'

Herald Pol took himself off as quickly as his daughter had—little doubt where she'd gotten that trait from—and Lan was left alone with his parents and Kalira.

He took a deep breath, and stood up as straight as he could manage.

'Well,' he said to them. 'Shall we go?'

ELEVEN