Changes

“Yes,” said the man, with compassion, but without any attempt to soften the blow. “They can, and they did.”

A million things raced through his mind. He wanted to burst into tears. He wanted to shove this fellow off him and go running down the street. He wanted to scream, or pull lightning down out of the sky himself, or—

He did none of these things, for none of them would get Amily back. Instead, he looked up into the stranger’s face. “What—what do I do?” he asked. “What do we do?”

The stranger gave him a long, searching look, then nodded. “They won’t kill her; they won’t even hurt her for now,” he said. “If they’d wanted to do that, they wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. So for now, we go back where we have resources, and you tell us everything you can. Think you can stand?” He took his hand off Mags and his knee off Mags’ chest.

Mags lurched to his feet, stumbled in the rain, and looked around. To his great relief, he saw Dallen also on his feet, even if the Companion’s head was hanging so low his nose touched the street.

::Dallen?::

::I’m all right. Bruised. Nothing broken. And furious.:: The Companion raised his head and looked into Mags’ face. Pure rage blazed at Mags from the blue eyes.

“Anything broken?” asked the stranger.

“Dallen says no—”

“I meant you,” the stranger interrupted.

Mags took a deep breath—or tried to. Every muscle in his chest suddenly constricted painfully. But there weren’t any stabbing sensations, and he answered, “Don’ thin’ so.”

“Blessed Cernos, I have no idea how that happened. Do you see that?” The stranger pointed to a rectangular shape lying off to the side of the road. Mags guessed it was about at long as he was tall. “That was a seat in the carriage. At a guess there was one of them driving and one on the floor, making sure the girl didn’t bounce out or come to and jump out. He ripped out that seat and flung it at you when you came alongside. It probably weighs about as much as you do.”

“Oh.” Well, that explained what had hurtled into them.

“You can thank all that game practice for keeping you both from breaking your necks.” The stranger, who had an oddly familiar look to him, raised his head, rain streaming over him as he closed his eyes for a moment. “There. Everyone knows you’re all intact. Friends are bringing Nikolas up from Haven.”

He whistled shrilly, and a moment later, an extremely tall Companion came trotting in through the rain curtains.

“Any sign?” the stranger asked his Companion.

The Companion blew out a disgusted snort and shook his head vigorously.

“Well, it was worth trying. If anything could track them in this muck, it would be you.” The stranger sighed and turned back to Mags. “All right, let’s get you into the saddle. I’d rather you didn’t walk too far until a Healer has a chance to look at you.”

Obediently, Mags turned toward Dallen, but the stranger’s Companion shouldered in between them. The blue eyes bored into his. ::Not Dallen, he’s in no better shape than you are,:: said a crisp, clear Mindvoice with the sound of bells in it. ::My saddle.::

“Uh... oh... aight,” he replied, blinking, and with every muscle in his body screaming in protest, he reached up to the saddle horn.

He managed that, but he couldn’t get his foot high enough to go into the stirrup—

Before he could think, he felt the stranger boost him, so he did manage to scramble into place. The strange Herald started trudging up the street, plowing with determination through the downpour. His Companion followed, and Dallen moved painfully alongside.

::Who is that?:: he asked Dallen, half of his mind trying to figure out why the stranger looked so familiar, the other half trying to think of some way, any way, he could find Amily and get her back.

::Sedric,:: Dallen replied, shortly.

That name was... familiar.

“You’re lucky I was close, and I’m a strong Mindspeaker,” said Sedric. “I have literally just gotten back from my first circuit. I was waiting out the rain at Master Soren’s when I heard you shouting.”

“You know Master Soren?” Mags asked, still thinking furiously, but fruitlessly.

“I should, I just proposed to Lydia.” There was a sort of grim amusement in his voice. “It’s a damn good thing she doesn’t believe in evil portents, I suppose.”

“Evil... Lydia?” With his mind racing in a hundred directions, he tried to make sense of that. “You—you’re going to marry Lydia?”

“She seems to think so. I’m glad she knows what she’s getting into, or this would likely have sent her screaming away from me.” Sedric waited for a moment for the two Companions to catch up with him, and he put a steadying hand on Dallen’s shoulder when he stumbled a little.

“If you’re—why didn’t I know about this?” Mags asked, staring down at the young man.

“Because, my dear naive Trainee, it’s generally not a good idea for the Heir to the Throne to broadcast his choice of wife when he’s about to be away from the Palace for two years,” Sedric said dryly. “Father tentatively approved when I left, provided Lydia felt the same when I got back. Reasonable—well, my head knew it was reasonable, even though my heart was sobbing worse than a mooncalf lover in one of Marchand’s treacly ballads, and we will not mention in polite company how other parts of me took the edict.”