Owlsight

shook her head with disbelief. “I hardly recognized her - ”

“Start from the beginning,” Darian interrupted. “I want to hear this in sequence.”

Keisha took a deep breath, and began at the beginning - just after dawn this morning. “I was in Errold’s Grove. Nightwind told me to spend half my time there since I’m supposed to be the on-station Healer now, and I’m supposed to take care of anything that happens to the volunteers, now that most of the other Healers are here with Kerowyn. I’d just checked the camp at morning call for anyone sick - no one was, but I always check - it was just about dawn. Then one of the sentries reported a Herald coming. We expected Eldan, of course, so I stayed to see what had brought him there. Obviously, we thought something might have happened out here. And out of absolutely nowhere, up comes Shandi, acting as if she had every right to be there and not at the Collegium where she belongs!” She couldn’t keep her indignation to herself; it crept out and colored her last sentence.

Darian cocked his head to one side. “Are you aware of how much you sound like your mother?” he asked dryly.

She flushed. “I suppose I do; well, being someone’s big sister tends to make you feel that way. Anyway, she somehow managed to bluff the lieutenant into thinking she had orders to find Herald-Captain Kerowyn. She found out where you all were, and before anyone could question her about anything, she just scooped me up and kidnapped me! She says she had a premonition that she and I had to be here for some reason, and that was why the Collegium let her go.”

“Do you believe her?” Darian asked.

She hugged her knees to her chest, and rested her chin on them. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “If it was anyone else - but it’s hard to think of Shandi as - as having premonitions I’m supposed to believe in.” She rubbed the side of her head, easing the ache in her temple. “I mean - Shandi, of all people! She never showed any signs of anything like that before!”

“People often don’t, not until they’re Chosen anyway,” Darian reminded her.

“She says her Gift is ForeSight, but that it isn’t properly trained yet, so all she gets is bits and pieces. I just don’t know.” Keisha rubbed her tired eyes, and wished that this had happened to anyone but her.

“Can you think of any other reason why she should come pounding up here?’ Darian asked, reasonably. “And can’t you think of a lot of reasons why she would avoid doing so if she could?”

Keisha had to smile at that. “Well,” she admitted, “now that you mention it. If Mum and Da got word she was here, they’d have a worse fit than they did over my staying. She’d never hear the end of it. And as for the Captain - ” she shuddered. “ - I’d rather die than have to explain something like this to Captain Kero.”

Darian spread his hands. “There you have it. I’d trust that premonition, personally. Everything she told you sounds perfectly logical to me. I don’t think her Companion would have gone along with this if she had been making it up, do you?”

Keisha nodded, slowly, and felt a little better. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

The only thing is, she said her premonition involved me. I don’t like the sound of that. . . .

Darian interrupted her worrisome thoughts. “Now, would you like to hear what we’ve been finding out, since it seems that you’re going to be involved?”

Keisha nodded, and when Darian was done, she remained silent, thinking everything he’d told her over carefully. “This Summer Fever,” she ventured. “I don’t like the sound of it. It sounds more dangerous than the barbarians.”

“Why?” he asked, puzzled.

“They’ve had a few years to get used to it - I’ve never heard of anything like it down here,” she told him, feeling a little chill in her heart. “If it got loose here, it could go through us like a wildfire.”

“We have Healers,” he objected. “Surely they can do something first.”

“You have to know what you’re up against, how it works, before you can fight it,” she pointed out. “Otherwise it’s like fighting an enemy blindfolded. Sure, you can flail around with a sword and hope you hit something, but you’re more likely to get hit yourself first.”

He winced. “I see your point.”

“That’s not all that bothers me, but it’s the main thing,” she continued, wondering if he would understand how she felt. “I think you aren’t going to like this, but I think we have to help them.”

As he’d described the children with their withered limbs, she’d felt that old familiar tug, that insistent call to