Magic's Price

Vanyel possessed, even at the core of him. And she Saw how the blade loosened its hold on the Herald-Mage; how it turned in Starwind's hand, and lurched out of the wound like a hunger-maddened weasel.

“Not this time, I think,” Starwind said aloud, pulling his unprotected hand away before the writhing blade could strike it. “Now, ashke -”

Moondance made an arc of pure power between his two hands, and Starwind brought the blade down into it.

The thing shrieked.

Stefen screamed, and clasped his hands over his ears. Savil very nearly did the same. The only reason she didn't try to block her ears was because she knew it wouldn't do any good. That hideous screaming was purely mental.

The scream of the blade continued for four or five breaths, then, as suddenly as it had begun, the thing fell silent. Moondance damped the power-arc, and when Savil's eyes and Mage-Sight recovered from the dazzle, she saw that Starwind held only a hilt. The blade itself was gone, and the air reeked of charred silk.

“And that,” the Tayledras said with satisfaction, turning the blackened hilt over in his hand, and examining it carefully, “is that.” He looked up at Savil. “And now, dearest Wingsister, we four can all join to bring our brother back to us.”

She was placing her hands over Moondance's when she realized what he'd said.

Four? Huh. Well, why not?

“Come here, lad,” she said over her shoulder to Stefen, who was hovering worriedly in the background. “They won't bite you.”

“Much,” Moondance said, in her tongue, with a sly grin for Stefen. Oddly enough, that seemed to relax him.

“What can I do?” he asked, taking his place at Savil's side.

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “But he knows. So let's both find out.”

Starwind smiled, and placed his hands atop theirs.

Savil took a long, deep breath and looked quickly down at Vanyel. He was breathing normally, deeply asleep, and his color was back. He'll probably wake up in a candlemark or so. 'Fandes will be out about as long.

“What happened?” Stef asked, dazedly. “What did we do?”

“Sit, Singer,” Moondance said, pushing him down onto the bed. “We gave young Vanyel a path back to himself, and the strength to return upon it. But that strength came from us, you most particularly, and you should now rest.” He nodded at the bed. “There is plenty of room there, and Vanyel would feel comforted by your presence.”

“He would?” The youngster looked on his last legs, but was stubbornly refusing to admit his weariness. “Well - if you think so -”

“I think so.” Moondance threw a light blanket over the Bard's shoulders. “Rest. You do not hasten his recovery by fretting.”

“If you -” he stifled a yawn “- say so.”

Moondance shook his head at Starwind. “Children. Was I that stubborn-minded?” he asked in Tayledras.

“Oh, you were worse.” Starwind grinned, and took Savil by the elbow. “Kindly show us where we will be staying, Wingsister. I think we will have to remain here some few days more, else Vanyel will foolishly exert himself and it will be all to do again.”

:And just what do you have up your sleeve?: she asked him. :You're right, of course, but there's more that you aren't telling the boy.:

:Perceptive as always,: he replied. :I wish you to hear this from Moondance, however.:

She nodded at Moondance, who joined them at the door. “Sleep, Stefen,” he ordered as he closed it. An indistinct mumble came from the general direction of the bed. It sounded like agreement.