Magic's Price

after I faced down Krebain. Why has it come back?

The square of moonlight crept across the floor and up the all, then vanished as the moon set. And still Vanyel was wide awake, and too intent on his own thoughts to feel chilled. He kept pacing the floor, pausing now and again to look down on Stefen. The Bard slept on, his lips curved in a slight smile, sprawled over the entire bed.

After a while, as the impact of the two dreams - if they were dreams - began to wear off, that posture of Stefs began to amuse him. I never would have believed that someone that slight could take up that much room all by himself, he thought with a silent chuckle. He's like a cat; takes up far more space than is even remotely possible under the laws of nature.

It was nearly dawn; the pearly light of earliest morning filled the room, making everything soft-edged and shadowy. Vanyel continued to stare down at Stef; not thinking, really, just waiting for some of his thoughts to sort themselves out and present themselves to him in an orderly fashion.

Stefen stirred a little, and opened his eyes. He blinked confusedly at Van for a moment, then seemed to recollect where he was. “Van?” he asked, sleep bluring his voice. “Is something wrong, Vanyel- ashke?'

Vanyel froze. The words, the very tone, brought back the second dream with the impact of a blow above the heart.

Tylendel leaning up against the shaggy tree trunk, a slight smile on his lips, his arms crossed over his chest. “What's wrong, Vanyel-asbke?”

Ashke - it was the Tayledras word for “beloved,” and Tylendel's special name for him, a play on Vanyel's family name of “Ashkevron.”

But 'Lendel had been fluent in Tayledras; Savil had insisted that ‘Lendel and Vanyel both learn the tongue, as she had always intended to take them to the Pelagir Hills territory claimed by her Hawkbrother friends as soon as Tylendel was ready for fieldwork. She didn't even offer the lessoning to Donni and Mardic, her other two pupils.

Stefen, on the other hand, knew only one word of pidgin-Tayledras; shaych, the shortened form of shay'a'chern, which had become common usage for those whose preferences lay with their own sex. He couldn't ever have heard the word he'd just used, must less know what it meant.

Wild thoughts of hauntings and possessions ran through Vanyel's mind. He'd seen so many stranger things as a Herald - “Stef,” Vanyel said, slowly and carefully. “What did you just call me?”

“Vanyel-ashke,” Stefen repeated, bewildered, and plainly disturbed by Van's careful mask of control. “Why? Did I say something wrong?”

“Is there a reason why you called me that just now?” Vanyel didn't move, though the hair was rising on the back of his neck. First the dreams, and now this ... he extended a careful probe, ready at any moment to react if he found anything out of the ordinary.

“Sure,” Stef replied, blinking at him, and rising up onto one elbow. “I've -” he blushed a little “- I've been calling you that to myself for a while. Comes from your name, Ashkevron. It - it seems to suit you. You know how a Bard likes to play with words. It has a nice sound, you know?”

The probe met with nothing. No resistance, no aura of another presence. Vanyel relaxed, and smiled. It was nothing, after all. Just an incredible coincidence. He wasn't being haunted by the spirit of a long-dead lover, nor was this love in any danger of being possessed or controlled by the last.

Not that 'Lendel would ever have done that, he reminded himself. No, I'm just short on sleep and no longer thinking clearly, that's all. And so used to jumping at shadows that I'm overreacting to even a perfectly innocent pet-name.

“Did I say something wrong?” Stefen asked again, more urgently this time, starting to sit up as he pulled tangled hair out of his eyes with both hands. “If you don't like it - if it bothers you -”

“No, it's all right,” Vanyel answered him. “I was just a little startled, that's all. Ashke is the Tayledras word for 'beloved,' and I wasn't expecting to hear that from you.”

“If you'd rather I didn't -” Stef hastened to say, when Vanyel interrupted him.

“I do like it - just, I had some odd dreams, and coming on top of them, it startled me. That's all.” Vanyel touched Stefen's shoulder, and the Bard flinched.

“Havens, you're freezing,” Stef exclaimed. “How long have you been up? Never mind, it's probably too long. Get in here before you catch something horrible, and let me warm you up. After all,” he added slyly, as Van shrugged off his robe and slid into bed beside him. “Whatever you catch, I’ll probably get, and you wouldn't want to have the guilt of ruining a Bard's voice on your conscience, would you?”