First she fussed over him a great deal. Evidently having actual wounds from a weapon rather than just bruises impressed her a lot. Which was odd, because the bruises had hurt a lot more.
Then when he had reassured her for the third time that he was going to be all right, she looked sheepish, then guilty, then asked all in a rush, “Then if you are going to be all right you won’t mind my father coming to ask you questions?”
Aha. Mystery solved.
“Well, fer you,” he replied. She beamed at him, and evidently all was forgiven.
Amily turned up while he was still talking to Lena and Bear, and the little smile she gave him warmed him more than the sunshine had. None of them wanted to speak of anything but commonplaces, catching him up on what had happened while he had been on his self-imposed exile, and since his head wasn’t working all that well under the influence of the medicines, he just lay back and let them chatter.
It was when Nikolas turned up that he woke up all the way.
It was just twilight; someone had come around to light the lamps, but there weren’t many of them here as the patients were generally encouraged to sleep as much as possible. Mags was drowsing a little when he sensed the familiar presence, and opened his eyes to see Nikolas just standing in the doorway.
The King’s Own smiled crookedly when he saw Mags had spotted him. “For someone who never saw a Herald before last year, you’re upholding our traditions very well,” he said.
“What?” Mags asked. “Ye mean, Heralds being targets?”
“Exactly.” Nikolas entered and took the chair beside the bed. “We’ve just finished a literal house-to-house search of Haven. The rest of the foreigners are gone.”
“He was the ’mportant one,” Mags said, not at all surprised. “I reckon ’e was th’ one that kept ’em all here.”
“Likely.” Nikolas nodded. “You are going to be in for a rough couple of days, I fear. Rolan and I are going to go rummage through everything you picked up from him while it is all still fresh in your mind. We might glean some clues from it, if not answers.”
“Oh.” He grimaced. That was going to be very unpleasant, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to say “no.”
“I apologize for not being available when you needed me, Mags,” Nikolas was saying, while Mags was still thinking over the need to go through all those nasty thoughts and images yet again. “I was involved in something very tricky. I still am, actually, but it’s at a stage where it has to lie fallow for a while. I can’t tell you what it is, obviously.”
Mags nodded.
“What I will tell you is that for the next four to six moons, I think you can consider yourself free to be a normal Trainee.” Nikolas grinned. “Or at least, as normal as Trainees ever are. Play Kirball, humor Marchand, go have Midsummer Festival with Lydia and her friends, flirt with my daughter—”
He laughed when Mags blushed hotly.
“What, did you think I hadn’t noticed?” he asked mockingly. “Just how preoccupied with my duties do you think I am?”
Mags blushed again.
“You will be doing something actually quite important when you do all these things, Mags,” Nikolas continued, sobering. “You’ll be integrating yourself with the rest of the Trainees. You’ll be establishing yourself, not just to them, but in your own mind, as one of the Circle. Do you understand what I am saying, Mags?”
Mags blinked thoughtfully. “I... think so, sir.”
“Believe it, Mags. Because there is not a bit of doubt in anyone else’s mind after last night.” Nikolas stood up to go. “There is no one, in all of Valdemar, more fit to be a Herald than you.”
The words echoed in his mind and followed him down into sleep, bringing healing in their wake. There were unanswered questions, still, and a great many of them. But for now, they could wait.
