Magic's Price

:Exactly,: Van said, his eyes mournful :Exactly. Do you still love me enough to spend a lifetime doing the work I've left to you? A lifetime alone? I wouldn't blame you if -:

“Van -” Stef whispered, looking deeply into those beloved silver eyes, “Van - I love you enough to die for you - I still do. I always will. I guess -”

He hesitated a moment more, then swallowed down his tears. “I guess,” he finished, managing to dredge up a shaky, tear-edged smile, “if I love you enough to die for you, it kind of follows that I love you enough to live for you. And there are worse ways to die for somebody than by old age -”

:Tell me about it:. For one moment, all the starlight, the moonlight, seemed to collect in one place, then feed into Vanyel. The figure of the Herald glowed as bright as the full moon for a heartbeat, and he solidified long enough to take Stefen into his arms -

:Oh, ashke -: he murmured, and smiled lovingly.

Then he was gone. Completely. And without the evidence of the spilled bottle and the dust in his hair, Stef would never have known Vanyel was there except in his mind.

The Bard looked around frantically, but there was no sign of him. “Van, wait!” he shouted into the still air, “Wait! How will I know when I've earned my place?”

:You'll know,: came the whisper in his mind :We'll call you.:

Epilogue

Herald Andros leaned back in his saddle, and stretched, enjoying the warm spring sunshine on his back. He looked behind him to make sure his fellow traveler was keeping up all right.

The old Bard was nodding off again; it was a good thing that Ashkevron palfrey had easy paces, or the poor old man would have fallen off a half dozen times.

:Why on earth do you suppose he wants to visit Sorrows?: he asked Toril.

His Companion shook her head :Damned if I know,: she replied, amusement in her mind-voice. :The very old get pretty peculiar. He should be glad there's been peace long enough that someone could be spared to ferry him up here.:

:It still wouldn't have happened if I wasn't on my way to the Temple in the first place,: he said. :Poor old man. Not that anyone is going to miss him - all of his old cronies are gone, and hardly anyone even knows he's at Court anymore.:

Toril tested the breeze for a moment :Maybe he's making a kind of memorial trip. Did you know he's the Stefen? Vanyel's lifebonded?:

:No!: He turned in his saddle to stare back at the frail, slight old man, dozing behind him. :I thought Stefen was dead a long time ago! Well, I guess he deserves a little humoring. He's certainly earned it.:

She shook her head in silent agreement, and slowed until they were even with the Bard. “Bard Stefen?” he said, softly. The Bard's hearing was perfectly good - and he didn't want to startle the old man.

The Bard opened his eyes, slowly. “Dozed off again, did I?” he asked, with a hint of a smile. “Good thing this old man has you to watch out for him, son.”

“Do you have any idea of where you're going?” Andros asked. “We've been inside the border of Sorrows for the last couple of candlemarks.”

The Bard looked around himself with increased interest. “Have we now? Well - could be why I felt comfortable enough to go on sleeping. I wish you'd told me, I could have saved you a little riding.”

He pulled his old mare to a halt, and slowly dismounted, then pointed at a little grove of goldenoak at the foot of a rocky hillside. “That'll do, lad. All I want is to be left alone for a bit, eh? I know that sounds a bit touched, but the old get pretty peculiar sometimes.”

Andros blushed at this echoing of his own thoughts, and obediently turned Toril away.