Magic's Price

his enemy must be some kind of woods' witch, or hedge-wizard, to do all of his spellcasting out-of-doors. The Wood, with all of its residual magics, would have been perfect for that. So the stranger had waited, snare at the ready, for the first sign of spellcasting. He had expected to catch another hedge-wizard.

He had gotten Vanyel. This was rather akin to setting a trap for a sparrow and catching a firebird. The mental blow that knocked him unconscious had caught him completely by surprise.

So when he came to, he had done so behind a screen prepared for just such an occasion. He had retreated behind a disguise that had been created for him by another mage - just in case he had discovered that the one he intended to neutralize had been more powerful than he. This was the false persona whose thoughts Vanyel had skimmed, the madman who interpreted everything as an attack or a threat to himself.

At this point the stranger had still not known that he'd caught Vanyel; he had only thought that Withen's house-mage was far more skilled than he had guessed. It wasn't until Vanyel actually came into his line-of-sight that he had realized who and what had caught him.

That had been the spark of recognition Vanyel had seen. After that, the man buried himself even deeper beneath the false persona, deciding to fall back on his secondary plan.

That involved getting inside Forst Reach itself-and Vanyel played right into his hands by taking him to Father Tyler.

He'd waited for Vanyel to probe him more carefully, and had been relieved when Van was too preoccupied to see if there was anything behind the persona-screen. That made his job all the easier.

He had disposed of Father Tyler, and had gone looking for Treesa or Withen. He'd found out where they were by the simple expedient of asking a servant. Then he'd gone hunting.

The final thought Vanyel read as the mage prepared to launch the leech-blade at Treesa was that his master would be very pleased.

That was, maddeningly, all.

Savil tried to Read farther into the past than the moment of the attack, but once he was off Forst Reach lands, the mage had been screened and shielded, and there was nothing there to be Read. There was no image in the mage's mind connected with this “master”; he'd never seen the unknown mage in person. The “master” had only given him his orders, then given him the means to carry them out - he had set up the disguise-persona, had screened his servant against detection and back-Reading while off the Forst Reach lands, and had constructed the twin leech-blades for him.

The mage had only been a tool in the hands of someone bigger.

Vanyel shook off his disappointment, and began gently disengaging himself from the spell. Gradually the frozen scene faded from Mage-Sight and ordinary sight; then, with an abrupt, gut-wrenching shudder, it vanished completely, and Vanyel was back in the present, with a numb behind, and far too many unanswered questions.

He got up, breaking the circle, and stretched. He stood staring at the tree just in front of him for a while, trying to get everything he'd learned and everything he hadn't learned sorted out. When he turned around, Starwind was staring at him, a slight frown on his lips.

“You do realize what this attack means, do you not?” he said to Vanyel. “That you were vulnerable to the leech-blade was the purest accident; if you had been warded against magic the thing would have had no purchase upon you. Nevertheless, you were the target; the mage recognized you and knew that. He was to destroy you by indirect means, by destroying those you love. The one who sent him does not want to confront you - but does want you eliminated. This time the targets were to be Lady Treesa, Lord Withen, or both - hence the two blades.”

“The protections I put on them won't hold against direct attacks,” Savil admitted unhappily. “I can't stop an assassin. I don't think this is going to end with one attack, either, not with what I picked up. Van, I don't know what to say.”

Vanyel sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. “It's nothing I haven't anticipated, Savil. That's always been my worst fear, you know that. But if there is somebody, some powerful enemy of mine out there-where has he been all this time? What does he really want? And is he just my enemy, or is he Valdemar's enemy as well?”

Moondance stretched as Starwind clasped his shoulders and rubbed them absently. “This comes as quite a surprise to us as well, Wingbrother. We are reclusive, yes, but there are still signs of such a mage as this “master” seems to be which we should have detected long before this.”

Vanyel offered Savil his hands to pull her to her feet. “Except that you have a peculiar blind spot, my friends,” Savil, said, accepting the aid. “You never look outside your own territory. Even the Shin'a'in Clans work together, but you don't; each of your Clans operates on its own. That's your strength, but that's also your weakness.”

“Strength or weakness, it matters not,” Starwind said shortly. “The question is, how is Vanyel to ensure the continued safety of his parents? As you have pointed out, Wingsister, this is not going stop at one attack.”

“There's only one thing I can do,” Vanyel said. “Since I can't be where they are -”