Magic's Price

Vanyel started to object, but realized that he didn't have any grounds for objection. It looked like an accident. Everyone else accepted it as an accident.

But Van didn't - couldn't - believe that it was.

Nevertheless, all he had to go on were vague and ill-defined feelings. Nothing even concrete enough for a Herald to accept.

So he thanked Treven - to Stefen's quite open relief - and returned across the crusted snow to the warmth and light of the Herald's Wing.

He was at the door, when Yfandes Mindtouched him. :Van,: she said, sounding troubled. :We've found Kilchas' Companion, Rohan. He's dead. He was off in the far Western comer of the Field.:

:And?: he prompted her.

:And I don't like it. There's no sign of anything wrong, but I don't like it. We just don't - fall over like that. Unless we die in battle or by accident, we're Called, and we generally have time to say good-bye to our friends before we go :

:Could the shock of his Chosen dying like that have killed Rohan?: Van asked.

: May be,: she replied reluctantly. Most of the others think that's what did it.:

:But you're not convinced.: It was kind of comforting that she shared his doubts.

:I'm not convinced. It doesn't feel right. I can't pinpoint why, but it doesn't.:

“Van, are you going to stand there all night?” Stef asked, holding the door open and shivering visibly.

“Sorry, ashke,” Vanyel said giving himself a little mental kick. “I was talking to 'Fandes. The others found Kilchas' Companion. Dead. She says it doesn't feel right to her.”

The heat of the corridor hit him and made him want to lie down right then and there. He fought the urge and the attendant weakness. Stefen looked at him with puzzlement. “I thought that Companions never outlived their Chosen,” he said. “And vice versa. So what's wrong?”

“ 'Fandes just doesn't like the way it seems to have happened - Rohan was off by himself in the farthest corner of the Field, and none of the others knew he was gone until they found him.”

Stefen looked disturbed. “That's not the way things are supposed to happen,” he replied slowly. “At least not the way I understand them. I think you're both right. There's at least something odd about this.”

Van reached the door of his room first, and held it open for the Bard. “It may just be the new Web-spell,” he said as he closed the door behind them, took off his cloak, and flung it into a chair. “It's supposed to bind us all together; some of that may be spilling over in unexpected ways, like onto our Companions.”

Stefen draped his own cloak on top of Vanyel's. “Here,” he offered. “Let me help you out of that tunic and go lie down; we can talk about this while I give you a better massage than the one that was interrupted. I'll play opposition, and try to find logical explanations for everything you find wrong.”

“Stef, I'm absolutely exhausted,” Vanyel warned, unlacing his tunic and allowing Stef to pull it off. “If you really get me relaxed, I'll probably fall asleep in the middle of it. And once I do, you wouldn't be able to wake me with an earthquake.”

“If that's what you need, then that's what you should do,” the Bard replied, pushing him a little so that he sat down - or rather, collapsed - onto the bed. “Meanwhile, let me get the knots out of you while we talk about this. Why don't you pull 'Fandes into this, too? If she's worried, you probably should, anyway, and she may find holes in my arguments.”

:'Fandes?: Van called

:Here-:

:Want to listen in on this? We're going to try and see if I'm just overreacting to Kilchas' death because of exhaustion.:

:Neatly put, and that could be my problem, too. Go ahead. I'll be listening.: She sounded relieved.