expression. 'He says he has something for you, but he can't tell me what it is.'
The kyree nodded his head as Firesong turned to look down on him with surprise. :Indeed, Firesong k'Treva,: Tarrn said with grave courtesy. :I have. Would you come with me to where they have brought our belongings?:
'Certainly,' Firesong replied with equal courtesy. 'Would you prefer that I Mindspoke with you?'
:That will not be necessary, but thank you,: Tarrn replied, turning and walking slowly toward the heap of bundles that the Shin'a'in had left just inside the main room of the Tower.
:It is not that this is a secret matter,: the kyree continued. :It is simply that I have not been given permission to say anything to anyone else before I discharged my obligation.:
'Oh?' This was getting odder with every moment. Firesong couldn't think of anything or anyone among the Kaled'a'in of k'Leshya Vale who would have had anything to send to him.
Tarrn stopped beside the pile of belongings. :If you will please remove the three bags of Lyam's clothing there—: he indicated the drab bundles with his forepaw. :—you will find what I brought you beneath them. It is wrapped in blue wool, and it is very long and narrow.: Firesong easily moved the three packages, revealing a long, narrow packet wrapped in blue wool cloth and tied with string. Firesong picked it up.
And it Mindspoke to him.
:Hello, boy.: The grating, decidedly female voice was all too familiar to him, although it was not one he had expected to hear ever again.
'Need?' he gasped, as he tore at the wrappings, trying to free the blade within. Lyam must have wrapped it; the string was tied in a complicated knot-pattern only a hertasi or a kestra'chern could admire. He finally pulled off the string, the fabric fell away, and there was the ancient spell-bound sword. She looked precisely as she had the last time he saw her, strapped to Falconsbane's 'daughter' Nyara's side as she and Herald Skif rode out of Valdemar to become Selenay's envoys to the Kaled'a'in and Tayledras, and possibly to the Shin'a'in as well.
'Need, what are you doing here?' He hadn't been taken so completely by surprise since—since he'd been kidnapped by his ancestor Vanyel!
:Nyara doesn't require me anymore; she's better off on her own,: the sword said to him. :There's nothing at k'Leshya that she, Skif, or the Kaled'a'in can't handle. You, on the other hand, are dealing with very old magics. I am very old magic, and I still recall quite a bit. I helped you once before, and I'm hoping I can help you again.:
Firesong held the sword in both hands, and stared at it. It was very disconcerting to be Mindspeaking with what should have been an inanimate object. A sword didn't have a face to read, eyes to look into, and it was difficult to tell if it could read his expressions.
But there's something about all this that doesn't quite make sense yet.
'I find myself wondering if there is something more to this than just an urge to help us here,' he said finally. 'You've never put yourself in nonfemale hands before.'
:Hmm—let's say I've never done it deliberately, but it has happened, and it was usually with lads who had the same taste in men as my 'daughters.': The sword chuckled, but he sensed there was still a lot more than she was telling, and he decided to press her for it.
:Try again,: he said sternly in Mindspeech. :You're avoiding my question.:
A sword could not sigh, but he got that sensation from her.
:All right. I could tell you to work it out yourself, but why waste time? You've got mage-storms disrupting magic; you've managed to get them canceled out for the moment, but we all know this is only a temporary respite, not a solution. I'm magic. I've managed to hold myself together this long, but each Storm gets stronger, and sooner or later I'm going to lose to one. I don't know what will happen when I lose, but it's going to happen.: She paused for a moment :Worst case is that I'll go up in fire and molten metal, the way the sword was made. Best case is that the magic will just unravel, and there won't be anything here but a perfectly ordinary sword.:
He had never once thought that Need might be affected by the Storms; she had always struck him as being so capable, so impervious, that it never occurred to him that she might have been in trouble.
This bothered him. :I can't promise anything,: he said soberly. :I don't even know if we're going to survive the end of this ourselves.:
To his surprise, the sword laughed, though rather sardonically. :You think I don't know that? If I
