Changes

of the three Collegia had to endure guilt, knowing how good his life had become while his family struggled. So—no, no one who had turned up here was actually starving most of the time.

“Might be, bein’ as it’s here at the Palace, makes ’em think food mun somehow be better,” he offered. “Might jest be ’cause celebratin’ means food t’workin’ folk. But most likely ’cause ’tis stuff they never seed afore, an’ figger never t’see again.” He scratched his head. “I mind when I got ’ere, I didn’ even know what t’call ’alf uv what they gi’e me.”

“Very likely. Care to eat with me and Amily, Mags?” his mentor offered. “Bear and Lena too, of course. I— suggested to the Healers that they should keep Bear’s brother away from him for now. There’s no way to keep a confrontation from happening—family has rights, of course—but there is no reason to ruin the lad’s day, or a triumphant week for that matter. Tomorrow will be soon enough. At the moment, I don’t believe Bear even knows his brother is here.”

Mags heaved a sigh of relief. “Good,” he said sincerely. “Thet yer doin’, sir?”

“In part, in part. I’d like you and Bear to come with us to the concert as well.” Nikolas sighed a little. “We have a lot of work ahead of us, you and I, and this will probably be the last chance you’ll have for a lot of social time with your friends. You and I have a project we will have to undertake that is going to occupy every bit of your free time and probably some of your class time as well.”

Mags felt as alert as if someone had doused him with a pail of ice cold water. He waited for Nikolas to elaborate.

But it seemed he was going to have to wait. “I am not going to discuss it with you right now,” Nikolas continued. “You might as well enjoy this last truly free day without having to think about much of anything. Just remember the relaxation exercises you have learned, put this aside, and enjoy the evening.”

Mags nodded. He had learned a very great deal from one of the Healers lately, on Nikolas’s advice, and one of those things was a series of mental exercises that allowed him to put something out of his mind and not merely appear relaxed, but actually be relaxed. It had made him that much more valuable to Nikolas, as someone with the ability to fit in and appear casual in virtually any situation, because he actually was relaxed and casual. The only time he really couldn’t use the exercises was on the Kirball field.

“Should we go git Amily, sir?” he asked. It was a good question, since Amily was so lame as to be virtually crippled. The accident that had taken her mother’s life had broken her leg in several places, no one where they were had known what to do, and by the time she’d seen a Healer, the bones had already started to mend all wrong.

Wonder if that ain’t part’a why Bear’s so hot on his healin’ kits. Anyone with the basic knowledge that Bear was providing would have known at least how to immobilize Amily’s leg in such a way that, though she might have been lamed, she would not have been crippled.

“No, she has a place set up for us,” Nikolas replied. “We just need to collect some food and round up Bear and Lena. Speaking of which, there is Bear, just packing up.”

They had, by this time, reached the row of Healers’ teaching booths. Bear was putting the last of his demonstration kit back together and talking animatedly with a middle-aged woman. When he finished, just as they neared, he handed the kit to the woman, to her surprise and voluble thanks. He turned in time to see them approaching and waved. The woman took this as her signal to tender her thanks once more and make an exit, taking the kit, clutched to her chest, with her.

“Midwife,” Bear said, without being asked. “Been here every day askin’ good, sensible questions. Reckoned I could trust her with it. Heyla, Herald Nikolas. You kidnappin’ Mags?”

“And you and Lena if you know—ah, there she is!” Lena appeared as if conjured, though Mags had the notion she’d been somewhere nearby, just out of sight, waiting for Bear to be finished so that she could “just happen” to come by as the dinner bell rang.

Which it did at that moment. “Your timing is impeccable, Lena,” Nikolas told her, with a little bow that made her giggle. “I have orders from Amily to round up the lot of you so that you can make sure to get some of all her favorites from the repast on offer. We are not accepting your refusal.” He did not mention Lena’s father, nor the concert. Nikolas had been a Heraldic Trainee at the same time that Marchand had been at Bardic; he had been the one who uncovered one of Marchand’s misdeeds that had earned him a terrible (but fully justified) rebuke. He knew very well that Marchand would have left Lena to wait for him in vain even if he hadn’t been involved with setting up the concert.

I’m thinkin’ might be Nikolas oughta get that god-hat Dallen was offerin’.

“Aha!” Bear said, pushing up his lenses, which were always sliding down his nose. “Now the truth comes out.”

“You have caught me out.” Nikolas made a mournful face. “I am too old and decrepit to dash from table to table for my daughter’s pleasure.”

Mags laughed. “All right, Grandad,” he said impudently. “We’ll do yer dashin fer ye.”

Nikolas shook an imaginary cane at him.

Someone—very possibly other Heralds, for Amily was much beloved—had set Nikolas’s daughter up very nicely on the lawn nearest the entrance to the King’s Own’s quarters. She had sole possession of the one substantial tree there, which provided plenty of shade, and was seated on a comfortable pile of cushions against the trunk. There was a huge blanket, easily big enough for a dozen people to picnic on, spread out in front of her, more cushions stacked to one side, and a big basket which presumably contained plates and cups. “Hail, oh queen of summer.” Bear intoned as they reached her, making a comical bow. “We, your loyal subjects, await your command.”

Amily was, in Mags’ opinion, prettier than Lena, though her beauty was so quiet and contained that hardly any of it was obvious. Like her father, she had brown hair and eyes that were of no particular shade—more like all of them, mixed. She shared his knack for blending in with the background when she chose to—though right now, she wasn’t choosing to, and her lively expression when she saw them all made Mags smile. She blushed a little and laughed. “Well, my wish is for you all to get us food! You’re the biggest, Bear, so you and Papa get our main course. Mags, you get the other dishes, and, Lena, you get the desserts,” she said, but in such a way that you clearly understood she was grateful.

Mags dashed off, knowing exactly what it was he was going to be looking for. He had been snooping at the preparations, so he knew which of her favorites were going to be served up.