Magic's Price

himself in the bargain. There was a patience and a confidence in the way he handled her that spoke to Vanyel of more than riding experience.

He's matured, Vanyel thought, with some surprise. He's really grown up a lot in the last few weeks. He looks it, too, which is probably just as well. It's bad enough that my father is assuming he's my lover - if they knew how young he really is, my tail would truly be in the fire!

He squinted ahead, trying to make out a distance post or a landmark through the bright sun. Another week at most, even at this easy pace, and we'll be there. I wish I knew how much of a strain this was really going to be. It could be worse, I suppose. At least they're making an effort to be polite.

The filly fidgeted, but Stef held her down to a fast walk, talking to her with amusement in his voice. Savil caught Vanyel's eye and grinned, nodding her head toward the young Bard.

:A month ago she'd have put him on his rump in the dust. Boy's doing all right, Van. I like him.: Her grin got a little wider. :Beats the blazes out of some “friends” you've had.:

He made a face at her. :Now don't you start! I've told you; we're just friends and that's the way I intend to keep it.:

She just gave him a look out of the corner of her eye that implied she knew better.

He ignored the look. By his reckoning, even if his parents were willing to admit that he was shaych that didn't imply they were minded to aid and abet him.

They're willing to meet my friends but they won't want to know they're more than friends. I'll bet they keep half the hold between my room and Stefs, he thought wryly. Little do they know how much I'm going to appreciate that. It's been hard enough keeping things cool between us, and if they're going to help, that's just fine with me.

Stefen slowed his filly and brought her alongside Yfandes. “If this is the way traveling always is, I'm sorry they jumped me out of Journeyman so quickly,” he said, as Vanyel smiled. “I could get to like this awfully fast.”

“You should have talked more with Medren,” Van told him. “You're lucky. This is a good trip; the roads are fine, it hasn't rained once, and it's late summer. I'd say that on the whole, the bad days outnumber the good two to one. That's what it feels like when you're stuck out on the road, anyway.”

Yfandes snorted and bobbed her head in agreement. Stef looked down at her.

“That bad, is it, milady?”

She whickered, and snorted again.

“I'll take your word for it. Both of you, that is. But this trip has been - entirely wonderful. I feel like a human being for the first time in weeks.” He tilted his head sideways, and gave Vanyel a long, appraising look. “You look a lot better yourself, Van.”

“I feel better,” he admitted. “I just hope Joshel can hold things together for a few weeks.”

“Huh,” Savil said, entering the conversation. “If he can't, he's not worth his Whites.”

“That's not fair, Savil,” Vanyel objected. “Just because Joshe isn't a Herald-Mage -”

“That's not it,” she replied. “At least, that's not all of it. You left him a clean slate, if he can't deal with it -”

“Then I'm sure we'll hear from someone,” Stefen interrupted firmly. “I don't think it matters. They know where we are; if they really need you, they can contact you, Van. Why not relax?”

Stef was right, he thought reluctantly. He really should relax. This was another in a string of absolutely perfect summer days; the air was warm and still, without being sultry. They encountered a number of travelers, and all were completely friendly and ordinary, farmers, traders, children on errands - not a one had aroused his suspicions or Savil's. Birds chirped sleepily as they passed, and when the sun grew too oppressive, there always seemed to be a pleasant grove of trees or a tiny village inn to rest in for a little.

Maybe that's what's bothering me. It's too perfect. I mistrust perfection. I keep waiting for something to go wrong.

This afternoon was identical to the rest; at the moment they were passing through an area completely under cultivation. Open fields left fallow alternated with land under the plow. There were usually sheep or cattle grazing in the former, and farmfolk hard at work in the latter. The sheep would either ignore their presence or spook skittishly away from the road-the cattle gathered curiously at the hedgerows to watch them pass. Insects buzzed on all sides, in the fields and the hedges.