Changes

“Not iffen ’e was ordered not to. ’E’s kept plenty’uv things from me. Hellfire, I’d wanta go tell Master Soren an’ my other friends down i’ Haven, an’ they’d wanta warn their friends, and sooner or later, some’un’d slip.” By this time, he was half convinced himself. It made perfect logical sense.

“I mean,” he continued, “Le’s go ahead an’ get real crazy. ’Cause these fellers don’ know what kinda weather we’ll get, mebbe they cain’t count on the right sorta stuff to make a big fire, an’ they know we got the Foreseers what might See somethin’, an’ Heralds that’d get roused up right quick iffen they ran ’round settin a lot of fires. But mebbe they got a new kinda plague where they come from, new t’us, mebbe. An’ mebbe they know what spreads it. So mebbe they come ’ere wi’ thet i’ baggage, an’ are getting’ ready t’turn it loose.”

Bear shuddered, the anger in his expression fading, being replaced y alarm.

“I ain’t sayin’ ’tis thet,” Mags hastened to add. “I’m jest sayin’, could be. Aight?”

“All right,” Bear agreed. “But where does that leave me?”

“Where’d it leave ye afore ye got tapped fer Amily’s fixin’?” Mags countered.

“Well... .” Bear rubbed the back of his head ruefully. “Keeping Lena from feeling bad, as much as I could. And classes. And doing my work with the healing kits. I feel bad for putting some of that aside, but I have the basic kit now, and that part is out of my hands . . .”

“Aight. So figger ’stead’a runnin’ ’round tryin’ t’be three people, ye got leave t’jest be one fer a change.” Mags punched his shoulder, lightly. “Wish’t I c’d say th’same.”

::Mags,:: Dallen interrupted. ::Time to go. Nikolas has arranged that leave.::

“I gots t’ git,” he said, feeling both a bit of thrill and a lot of apprehension.

“. . . and not to go to class,” Bear said after a moment, studying his face. “You’re going to be down in Haven all the time now.”

“Mebbe.” Mags shrugged. “Dunno yet. Mebbe we’ll move inter thet shop fer a while. I dunno. Might could be e’en Nikolas dunno. Jest know I gotta go now, cause we gotta be down there long afore sunset t’day. I gotta start huntin’ fer this new lot.”

Bear gave him a long and measuring look. “These people almost killed you,” he said, somberly. “Three times, they almost killed you. And the ones that almost killed you, you say weren’t as skilled as these new ones.”

“Aye, I figgered thet part out,” Mags said dryly. “Might’ve been no bad notion t’have some other Gift, aye? Too bad we don’ get t’pick, I’d’a picked one thet made it so I had t’be treated like King hisself.”

“And what Gift would that be?” Bear asked.

“Dunno. Kingdom’s Luck? Thet a Gift? Whatever, I’m th’ one thet kin hear these lads, so I’m the one gotta go.” He honestly wished it could be anyone but him right now. Or better yet, that there were two of him.

Bear made a face. “Just—”

“Don’ say ‘be careful,’ aye? I ain’t goin’ inter this plannin’ on doing stupid shite.” Mags gave him an evil stare.

It had the desired effect. Bear laughed a little. “Point taken. And I suppose you had best get on your way before Nikolas gets annoyed with you. Go on, I’ll—try not to let my imagination get the better of me. I’ll definitely keep Lena sane, and try to do the same for Amily.”

Mags thought about advising him to do—or not do—any number of things. But in the end—would any of it do any good? Probably not. “I’ll let ye know when I kin, what’s what,” he said instead. “Iffen ye see me t’morrow, least ye’ll know I ain’t fightin’ fer bedspace wi’ bugs down i’ Haven.”

And he had to leave it at that.

He met Nikolas at the stable and knew immediately by the size of the packs that Dallen and Rolan were carrying that he would not be seeing his friends over lunch—not tomorrow, and maybe not for a while. A moment later, Nikolas confirmed his guess.

“I can’t say that I will be terribly unhappy at not having to deal with my daughter for a while,” the Herald murmured as he tightened the girth on Rolan’s saddle, and made sure that everything was comfortable for the Companion. “Maybe by the time I am back up here, she’ll have decided that I am not the worst father in the Kingdom.”

“I—” Mags tried to think of something to say, and couldn’t. He finally just shrugged. “Ain’t nothin’ I kin say, sir. Iffen yer unner orders, well... an’ I reckon ye cain’t even tell me thet much. An’ iffen ye cain’t tell me, aye, ye cain’t tell Amily. I don’ like it, an’ she don’ like it, an’ it ain’t fair, though. Ain’t like we’d tell any’un, an’ any’un thet thinks we would’s daft.”

Nikolas just gave him an opaque look. “Let’s just say that events in the past have proved that Foreseers sometimes interpret what they See incorrectly, no one wants to chance that happening this time, and leave it at that. Amily will get her leg mended as soon as can be managed, and Bear will be the one overseeing it. I just can’t tell you, or her, or him when that will be. Now let it go. That’s more than I should have told even you.”

“Yessir,” Mags replied, and got into the saddle. “So... any notion ’ow long we’ll be livin’ o’er yer shop? Attic’s like t’be mortal warm t’sleep in. I dunno, might could wanta think ’bout sleepin’ elsewhere?”

“We’ll actually be living in a squalid little basement—or rather, what was a squalid little basement before I smoked out all the vermin and made some improvements,” Nikolas told him, though he didn’t look at all happy about this. “I couldn’t do too much without exciting attention, however, so it will be rough.”

I don’ think ’e ’as the least little idea of rough, Mags thought to himself, but with more amusement than bitterness. Maybe it was a good thing that even Nikolas forgot, now and again, just who he was talking too. “ ’Tis a basement. Be cooler than attic. Might could be cooler nor up ’ere. Dunno whut yer room’s like, but mine’s been a-getting’ warm.”