Magic's Price

“Only with more success, because they have 'miracles' to prove their power,” the Archpriest mused, his eyes half-closed. “Interesting speculation. It's fortunate that you are on our side, Vanyel.”

Van bowed with intended irony. “A Herald tends to be altogether too well acquainted with the ways of treachery for anyone's comfort, including his own, my lord,” he said. “One could say that it is part of the job.”

“To know, and not use?” The Archpriest's smile was genuine and his eyes warmed with it. “I am aware of that, my son. I think that most of you would have been comfortable within the ranks of the clergy had there been no Companions to Choose you.”

“Most?” Vanyel chuckled, knowing the Archpriest was blissfully unaware of his relationship with Stefen. “Some, maybe, but I assure you, my lord, not all. By no means all. We are far too worldly for most orders to ever accept us!”

He would have said more, but suddenly -

His eyes burned. A giant hand closed itself around his chest, as his lungs caught fire. He tried to breathe, and only increased the pain. His heart spasmed; once, twice-then exploded.

He found himself sprawled facedown over the table, the rest of the Councillors, his father among them, frantically trying to revive him. He stared at the lines of the map just under his nose, unable to remember what they were.

“Vanyel!”

He was very cold, and his chest hurt.

“Turn him over you fools, he can't breathe!”

He blinked as the shadows danced around him, trying to recall exactly where-and who-he was.

:Van?: Yfandes said weakly, making a confusion of voices inside his head and out. :Are you all right?:

“What's wrong? What happened? Has he ever had a spell like this before?”

He stirred, dazed, the map-paper under him crackling. The Council meeting. I was in the Council meeting

:Van?: A little more urgent :'Fandes. Give me a moment. . . .: “What -” he gasped. He tried to push himself away from the table, but his arms were too weak and trembling, and he was too dazed to even think of what to do. Someone - two someones-grabbed his arms, one on either side, and pulled him up. Trev and Joshel; they lowered him into a chair.

Just as the Death Bell began tolling. Lissandra - He knew it, even as the other two looked at each other over his head and spoke the name simultaneously.

“You go,” Treven told Joshel. “Find out what happened.” He shook Vanyel's shoulder gently. “Is that what you Felt? Is that what happened to you just now?”

Vanyel nodded, and schooled himself to reply. “I - yes. Something very painful, very sudden. Like what happened with Kilchas, only worse.” He shuddered. “I don't understand - why am I Feeling them die? Why is this happening to me, and no one else?”

“Maybe because you set the spell,” Treven hazarded. “The rest of us know what happens after the fact, but you feel it at the time. Or maybe it's happening just because the two of them were in the original Web with you. Or because they're close by physically. We haven't had any Herald deaths at Haven but Kilchas and Lissandra.”

“I suppose. . . .” He put his head down on his knees, still dizzy. “A lot of good I'm going to be if I black out every time a Herald dies.” He was still in too much quasi-physical pain and too much in shock to feel the emotional impact of the other Herald-Mage's death :'Fandes? What about her Companion?:

:We're looking,: Yfandes said shortly. :Shonsea dropped out of our minds just as you Felt Lissandra die. Are you going to be all right?:

:I think so-I-:

:We found her,: Yfandes interrupted. :The northern end of the Field. It looks as though she was running, and fell and broke her neck.:

Vanyel sighed and closed his eyes. :If she felt what I did, I'm not surprised it came as enough of a shock to make her fall. Something horrendous happened, whatever it was.: