Take A Thief

“But — ”

:I've known for several weeks that you were my Chosen,: she said, as if it was so matter-of-fact that he shouldn't even be considering any other possibility. :I've just been waiting for the opportunity to get you alone where I could explain things to you.:

“But — ”

:You've already lost this argument, you know,: she pointed out. :Three times, infact.:

He gave up. Besides, the cake was cool enough to eat. And he was hungry enough by this point to eat the oats raw, much less in the cakes he'd just made.

He put a second poultice on his eye and nose and lay back in the boxbed that filled most of the Way Station. It had a thick layer of fresh hay in it, covered over with a coarse canvas sheet; it was just as comfortable as his bed in the Priory, and although he wasn't sleepy yet, he didn't really want to venture out into the alien environment outside his door. He heard things out there; all manner of unfamiliar sounds enlivened the darkness, and he didn't much care for them. There were wild animals out there, owls and bats and who knew what else. There could be bears…

:You don't for one moment think that I would let anything hurt you, do you?: The unexpected fierceness of that question made him open his good eye and turn his head to look at her, where she lay half-in, half-out of the doorway.

“I don' know anything 'bout you,” he admitted, slowly. “Nothin' at all 'bout Companions.”

:Well, I wouldn't.: She sighed. :And you're about to learn a great deal about Companions.:

“No, I ain't. They're gonna take one look at me an' throw me out,” he replied, stubbornly.

:No, they aren't. They already know who you are, what you are, and that I'm bringing you in tomorrow.:

“What?” he yelped, sitting up straight, keeping the poultice clapped to his eye with one hand.

:Well, not everybody, just the people who need to. The Dean of the Collegium — that's the Herald who's in charge of the whole of Heralds' Collegium. Herald Alberich, the Weapons-master. The Queen's Own and the Queen. A couple of the other teachers. They all know, and they aren't going to throw you out.: She was so matter-of-fact about it — as if it shouldn't even occur to him to doubt her. :As to how they know, I told them, of course. Actually I told them through their Companions, but it amounts to the same thing.:

He flopped back down in the bed, head spinning. This was all going much too fast for him. Much, much too fast. “Now what am I gonna do?” he moaned, mostly to himself. “I can't ever go back — th' Watch'd hev me afore I took a step — ”

:You couldn't go back anyway.: Cymry replied.

“But — ”

:Skif — do you really, really want me to leave you?: The voice in his mind was no more than a whisper, but it was a whisper that woke the echoes of that unforgettable moment when he felt an empty place inside him fill with something he had wanted for so long, so very, very long —

“No,” he whispered back, and to his profound embarrassment, felt his throat swelling with a sob at the very thought.

:I didn't think so. Because I couldn't bear to lose you.: Her thoughts took on a firmer tone. :And I won't. No one tries to separate a Companion and her Chosen. That would be — unthinkable.:

He lay in the firelit darkness for a long time, listening to the strange night sounds in the woods outside, the beating of his own heart, and his own thoughts.

Then he sighed heavily. “I guess I gotta be a Herald,” he said reluctantly. “But I still think there's gonna be trouble.”

:Then we'll face it together. Because I am never, ever going to let anyone separate us.:

* * * * * * * * * *

In the morning, gingerly probing of his nose and the area around his eye — and the fact that he could actually open that eye again — proved that the poultice had done its work. He cleaned himself up in the cold water, and