Magic's Price

deserved a reward, and I didn't have any sweets with me. Listen, we plan to leave these two at the Border, at the last Guard post. Is that all right?”

“What're you gonna do for supplies?” the groom asked skeptically.

“What I generally do; live off the land.” Now Vanyel turned to face them. “I wouldn't have asked you for them now except that Stef isn't used to this kind of trip, and I don't want to make it too hard on him at the beginning.”

“Whatever you say,” the groom replied. “The Guard post is fine. Next replacement to come back down can bring 'em with.”

“That's pretty much what I thought.” Vanyel took the lead-rope of the other chirra from a young boy and fastened it to the cantle of his saddle, while Berd did the same with the flower-loving chirra and Melody's saddle. Van mounted once his chirra was secure, and Stef followed his example.

“You take care, m'lord Van -” Berd called after them, as they rode out into the dark and cold. Vanyel half- turned in his saddle to wave, but he neither replied nor smiled.

Outside the walls of the city, there was nothing to be seen except snow-covered hills and a farmhouse or two. By the time they were a candlemark from Haven, the sky was as light as it was likely to get for the rest of the day. The clouds hung low, heavy, and leaden; the air felt a little damp, and the only place Stef wasn't cold was where his legs were warmed by contact with his horse.

Vanyel lifted his head and sniffed the light breeze, a few strands of silvered hair escaping from the hood of his cloak. “Smells like snow,” he said, the first words he'd spoken since leaving the Palace grounds. Stef sampled the air himself, but it didn't smell any differently to him. “How can you tell?” he asked, his voice sounding loud over the snow-muffled footfalls of the beasts on the road.

“It just does,” Van replied. “Like rain, only fainter and colder.” He looked back at Stef, and got Yfandes to slow so that they were riding side by side. “I won't stop for you, and I won't hold my pace back for you, Stef,” he said warningly. “I don't dare. I'm holding back enough as it is, taking chirras for the first leg. The only reason I'm catering to your inexperience on this first stage is because my enemy is going to assume I'm coming straight for him at a Companion's pace, and I hope this will throw him off.”

“I understand,” Stef hastened to say. “I won't hold you back. I'll keep up.”

“You might, but your filly isn't a Companion,” Van began. Then he got that “listening” expression that meant his Companion was talking to him. “ 'Fandes says she'll help,” he replied, looking a little surprised. “I don't know what she plans to do; maybe do something so that Melody can keep up with her. I hope so; a Companion is good for a lot more in the way of speed and endurance than an ordinary horse. I bred both those qualities into Star's line, but there's still only so much a horse can do.”

“I'll keep up,” Stef repeated, vowing to himself that he'd die before he complained of soreness or fatigue.

He's so strange, he thought, so cold. It's like there's nothing in the world that's important except getting this enemy of his. I've never seen him like this before. Is he always like this when he's working, I wonder?

“I have to stop this mage,” Vanyel said quietly, as if he'd heard Stefen's thoughts. “I have to, Stef, it's the most important thing I've ever had to do. Can you understand that? I'm sorry if it seems as though I'm being cold to you -”

Stefen shook his head. “No, it's all right,” he said hastily, even though it didn't feel all right. “I told you I wouldn't fall behind, and I won't. You'll have no reason to feel that bringing me along was a bad idea.”

“I hope you're right,” Van replied bleakly. “Although I must admit that it looks as though the weather is going to be a bigger factor in our progress than you are.”

Even as he spoke, the first big, fluffy flakes began falling from the lowering clouds. Stef looked up in puzzlement. “It doesn't look that bad,” he protested, shifting in his saddle to relieve strained muscles inside his thighs.

Vanyel's eyes were closed, and his brows knitted with concentration. “It's not bad now,” he said slowly. “But it could get that way very quickly, very easily. This storm system goes all the way up to the Border, and the balances in it are quite delicate. Right now it looks as though it's going to snow steadily, but things can change that balance all too easily.”

“Oh,” Stef replied. “I didn't know you could predict weather like that.”

Vanyel opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow at him. “I can't,” he said. “I can only read weather, I can't predict what it's going to do. It's one of the first things I was taught after I got control of my Mage-powers. The kind of magic I can do often disrupts weather patterns, and I need to know if I'm going to kick up a storm if I build a Gate or something of that nature.”

“Oh, like when 'Lendel died -” Stef replied absently, lost in his own worries.