On the Shore, a Wanderer
Chapter Three
"Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss"
-George Gordon
* * *
Emeraud stuffed bits of herbs and pots of salve into her bag after the last of her students left, humming the chorus of a popular ballad in tones that would have sent a Bard into screaming retreat. So she didn't hear the boy approach until a particularly vile sound reached her from just above her left ear. It sounded like a cat with a hairball, and her head snapped up. "I say, young man, are you quite all right?"
The boy, his simple gray uniform proclaiming his allegiance, shuffled his feet nervously. "I'm fine, Healer," he said quickly.
"Well, good. I'd hate to have to dose you." Emeraud tried not to smile as the Gray rushed to assure you of his good health. If she were sensitive, she *might* think that people found Healer's doses to be less than enticing. When he winded down again, she closed her bag with a snap, and said, "Very well. If you are not in need of healing, then why are you here? You're not in any of my classes."
"No, Healer. I was trying to track down a...friend of mine." A guilty look flashed across the boy's pleasant, expressive face. "I haven't seen him in a few days and I, I wanted to tell him something."
"Have a falling out, did you?" she asked shrewdly. His head jerked in a nod. "Far be it for me to impede the progress of friendship. Who are you looking for?"
"Um. Byron, of Beckworth."
She blinked. "Oh, he isn't here. I believe that he's doing a research project with Healer Elias." She tried to keep the relief out of her voice. Classes had been so much quieter since Byron had asked for her permission for a leave of absence.
"But he's not!" The Gray ran his hand through his hair, then gave it a sharp tug for good measure. "I asked Herald Fontaine, and Healer Elias, and Bard Wellen, and they all say he's doing a research project, but none of them can agree on who he's doing the project *with*. In fact," his voice became hard, "they all seemed rather glad that he's gone."
Emeraud felt her cheeks pink guiltily. To cover up her own discomfort, she took on a stern tone. "I don't know what to say, except that we need to see the Dean, right away. I would never have expected it of Byron, but if he's been deceiving us, and skipping class, that's a very serious situation."
"I'd...rather we didn't." His eyes pleaded with her. "Not yet. The Dean will expel him, and Bree would be devastated. Can't we wait a little while?"
"Wait? For what?" Although she knew the right course, Emeraud found herself reluctant to turn Byron in, as well. Despite his...enthusiasm, he was a student to be proud of. It would be a shame to lose him. Especially, the voice of her conscience whispered, when if you hadn't been so eager to get rid of him in the first place, a *Trainee* wouldn't have to be the one to discover he was missing.
"Give me a couple of days to find him," the Gray was saying, "and I'm sure I can talk some sense into him." From the expression on his face, she thought that the boy had his own burden of guilt to shoulder concerning the young lord.
She wavered for a moment, then her hands came up in a fluttering gesture of defeat. "Oh, all right. Two days. Then I have to go to the Dean. And if he comes back, maybe I'll even forget that we had this conversation." She wagged her finger in the Gray's suddenly hopeful face. "I said *maybe*, Trainee...?" She trailed off, suddenly realizing that she'd never gotten the boy's name.
"Rhys, Healer," he said with barely concealed joy, then he grabbed her hand, bowed, and brushed his lips across the top of her knuckles. "You won't regret this, I promise. I'll find him."
Emeraud watched him go with a rueful smile on her lips. If I weren't shaych I'd wonder *why* I agreed to spare the boy, she thought with amusement, then shook herself. "I won't regret this," she murmured. "Sounds like famous last words to me."
Thank the gods that Annice was, finally, coming to dinner tonight. She had a feeling that she was going to need some unofficial advice about a certain Heraldic Trainee and his wayward friend.
* * *
The world was darkness, the clammy wetness of the hands clutched in his, and sounds of quick, labored breathing. Byron's lips moved in silent repetition of the mantra he'd translated from the ancient tome, and he could taste the acrid flavor of the incense that filled the salon air. They were getting closer. He could feel the sense of pregnant expectation spread through the circle. They were united, the Many and the One, and the Veil was close...so close...
With an explosion of breath, Selles collapsed, and the circle was broken. Byron felt his consciousness slam back into his body with the force of a blow. On his left, Dorin jerked convulsively; his hand fell away to land on the floor with a muted thud. Byron opened his eyes. The thick smoke of the incense burned, and his eyes immediately teared up. He blinked rapidly until they cleared, then looked over at the crumpled form of the blond girl. "Maddie," he called and gestured to her friend, "help her up. Get her some water."
"We were close!" Silverveil leapt to her feet, and paced across the end of the room. "I could feel it, I could almost see the Veil. If that...child hadn't given up, we would have succeeded!" Several of the other young men and women around the circle gave the barely conscious Selles murderous looks. Even Maddie was touching her best friend with a hint of distaste.
"You don't know that," Byron soothed. He walked over to Silverveil, stilled her, and laid his hands on her shoulders. "Maybe it's for the best. After all, you said yourself that this was just to prove the validity of the methods, not to pierce the Veil. A scouting mission, not an invasion."
Silverveil shuddered. "But we...were...so...*close*!" She grabbed a porcelain figurine from a nearby table, and flung it across the room. Everyone except for Byron and Silverveil ducked as it shattered. Byron just sighed.
"There's no need to get upset. We'll do it. We *are* close, and it's just a matter of time. Just a little more patience is all it'll take." He rubbed her shoulders gently, willing her to calm. Deep down, he wondered how much time he had, before the instructors at the Collegium realized what had happened. If they cared. He pushed the thought away, as he always did, and tried to concentrate on his mentor.
"A little more patience," Silverveil repeated, seeming to relax into his massage. "Yes, we need patience," she nodded to herself, and Byron closed his eyes in relief. He dropped his hands, and she turned to smile at him. "You are my treasure, my lord." Her eyes seemed to glow from within with the light of a field of stars, and he felt himself pink with pleasure.
Silverveil glided over to Selles and kneeled down beside her. She took the cup of water from Maddie's hands, and held it up to Selles' lips. The girl drank gratefully. "Madam, I'm so sorry. I was trying, I really was."
"Shhh. I know you were. All will be well, my dear. We simply need to work on your endurance before the next time. Perhaps you will stay with me after, and we will try together, hmm?"
Selles agreed enthusiastically, and Byron could feel the tension seep out of the circle. But not out of him. Had there been a hint of something...wrong in Madam Silverveil's tone? Something dark? No, he decided, it was nothing but her lingering frustration. She was dedicated to the search, but she would never do anything...wrong. Right?
"Well, fellow seekers," Silverveil said from her position on the floor. "I believe we've accomplished all that we can for this session. It's late, and we start again tomorrow, so get some sleep." The other members of the circle began to rise, some so dazed and drained that they could hardly walk. But no one asked for help, and Byron knew that if he offered, they would cheerfully shrug it off. No one wanted to seem too weak to continue, and they considered him to be the next in charge of the circle, behind only Silverveil, herself.
They filed out, except for Selles, Maddie, and Byron. Silverveil patted Maddie on the shoulder. "It's all right, dear. We'll probably be a while, I'll let Selles stay with me tonight."
"Maddie," Selles said weakly, "it'll be all right. Just go on."
Maddie nodded, and stood. She didn't seem at all concerned, and maybe even a little envious that Selles would get to spend time alone with their mentor. She brushed by Byron, even though there was plenty of room, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. He stepped aside to let her through, then went to stand near the two women. Silverveil was helping Selles to her feet. She waved him languidly away. "Byron, dear, you're not needed."
"If you're going to seek again, you'll both be exhausted. You need someone here to help you." They wouldn't, really, and he'd never seen Silverveil be very drained by their sessions. Like himself, she often seemed energized, even excited, at the end. But that uncomfortable feeling was still gnawing at him, and he didn't know what to do about it except to try and stay close.
"No, Byron." Her eyes snapped at him, though her voice was bland. "I assure you, we can take care of ourselves. Am I correct, Selles, dear?"
"Yes, Madam." There was no hesitation to the answer, and now both women were shooing him away. Byron bowed gallantly, and acknowledged his surrender.
He gathered his things, and moved slowly to the door. He didn't know anything was wrong. It was just his imagination. Silverveil was his mentor, she'd opened up a whole new world of knowledge. She could be trusted, absolutely. There was nothing wrong. Selles wasn't worried, so neither was he.
He repeated that line of reasoning all the way back to his rooms, gradually convincing himself that the feeling of unease was just a result of the session being interrupted so abruptly. He was reaching out for the door handle, when Rhys' voice called his name.
He spun to face the Herald Trainee. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to apologize," Rhys said. He looked Byron over, from the tousled hair to the slightly mismatched set of clothes. "It's a little late to be out and about, isn't it? Especially with classes tomorrow."
"I'm doing a research project..."
"Yes, with Healer Elias. Or was it Healer Emeraud? No one really seems to know."
Byron's eyes narrowed. "You've got a strange way of apologizing, Herald."
Rhys' expression immediately softened. "I know. I'm sorry about the argument, Bree, I really am. But this...whatever this is, isn't the way to deal with that."
Byron gave a bark of startled laughter. "Is that what you think I'm doing? That I was so broken up by our little squabble that I've abandoned my classes?" He watched Rhys' face flush, and realized the words had came out more mocking than he'd intended. He smiled to take the sting out of it, and said, "Truth to tell, I hadn't really thought about it for a few days. I've been busy."
"Doing what?" Rhys demanded. "No one seems to know where you are, you don't even take dinner with the Court anymore, and you've been *lying* to your *teachers*. Doesn't that bother you?"
It did, more than Byron was willing to admit. "This is important," he said helplessly. "I *am* doing a research project, of a sort, just not with any of the teachers here. Just, cover for me or something, just a little longer."
"What kind of research project? With who? Why won't you tell the Dean about it?"
"Stop pestering me!" The shout echoed off the walls of the corridor, and both boys froze, praying it didn't awaken anyone. After a long moment in which no angry sleepers appeared, they both relaxed.
"We're worried about you," Rhys said, his blue eyes begging Byron to understand. Byron looked away. He couldn't give in, not yet. Not when they were so close. Soon, it'd be over, and he'd apologize, and everything would be okay. But not now.
"Well, stop it," he snapped. "I can take care of myself." He jerked the door to his rooms open, and stepped inside before Rhys could say anything else.
The slam echoed down the corridor, but this time neither of them noticed or cared.
Chapter Three
"Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss"
-George Gordon
* * *
Emeraud stuffed bits of herbs and pots of salve into her bag after the last of her students left, humming the chorus of a popular ballad in tones that would have sent a Bard into screaming retreat. So she didn't hear the boy approach until a particularly vile sound reached her from just above her left ear. It sounded like a cat with a hairball, and her head snapped up. "I say, young man, are you quite all right?"
The boy, his simple gray uniform proclaiming his allegiance, shuffled his feet nervously. "I'm fine, Healer," he said quickly.
"Well, good. I'd hate to have to dose you." Emeraud tried not to smile as the Gray rushed to assure you of his good health. If she were sensitive, she *might* think that people found Healer's doses to be less than enticing. When he winded down again, she closed her bag with a snap, and said, "Very well. If you are not in need of healing, then why are you here? You're not in any of my classes."
"No, Healer. I was trying to track down a...friend of mine." A guilty look flashed across the boy's pleasant, expressive face. "I haven't seen him in a few days and I, I wanted to tell him something."
"Have a falling out, did you?" she asked shrewdly. His head jerked in a nod. "Far be it for me to impede the progress of friendship. Who are you looking for?"
"Um. Byron, of Beckworth."
She blinked. "Oh, he isn't here. I believe that he's doing a research project with Healer Elias." She tried to keep the relief out of her voice. Classes had been so much quieter since Byron had asked for her permission for a leave of absence.
"But he's not!" The Gray ran his hand through his hair, then gave it a sharp tug for good measure. "I asked Herald Fontaine, and Healer Elias, and Bard Wellen, and they all say he's doing a research project, but none of them can agree on who he's doing the project *with*. In fact," his voice became hard, "they all seemed rather glad that he's gone."
Emeraud felt her cheeks pink guiltily. To cover up her own discomfort, she took on a stern tone. "I don't know what to say, except that we need to see the Dean, right away. I would never have expected it of Byron, but if he's been deceiving us, and skipping class, that's a very serious situation."
"I'd...rather we didn't." His eyes pleaded with her. "Not yet. The Dean will expel him, and Bree would be devastated. Can't we wait a little while?"
"Wait? For what?" Although she knew the right course, Emeraud found herself reluctant to turn Byron in, as well. Despite his...enthusiasm, he was a student to be proud of. It would be a shame to lose him. Especially, the voice of her conscience whispered, when if you hadn't been so eager to get rid of him in the first place, a *Trainee* wouldn't have to be the one to discover he was missing.
"Give me a couple of days to find him," the Gray was saying, "and I'm sure I can talk some sense into him." From the expression on his face, she thought that the boy had his own burden of guilt to shoulder concerning the young lord.
She wavered for a moment, then her hands came up in a fluttering gesture of defeat. "Oh, all right. Two days. Then I have to go to the Dean. And if he comes back, maybe I'll even forget that we had this conversation." She wagged her finger in the Gray's suddenly hopeful face. "I said *maybe*, Trainee...?" She trailed off, suddenly realizing that she'd never gotten the boy's name.
"Rhys, Healer," he said with barely concealed joy, then he grabbed her hand, bowed, and brushed his lips across the top of her knuckles. "You won't regret this, I promise. I'll find him."
Emeraud watched him go with a rueful smile on her lips. If I weren't shaych I'd wonder *why* I agreed to spare the boy, she thought with amusement, then shook herself. "I won't regret this," she murmured. "Sounds like famous last words to me."
Thank the gods that Annice was, finally, coming to dinner tonight. She had a feeling that she was going to need some unofficial advice about a certain Heraldic Trainee and his wayward friend.
* * *
The world was darkness, the clammy wetness of the hands clutched in his, and sounds of quick, labored breathing. Byron's lips moved in silent repetition of the mantra he'd translated from the ancient tome, and he could taste the acrid flavor of the incense that filled the salon air. They were getting closer. He could feel the sense of pregnant expectation spread through the circle. They were united, the Many and the One, and the Veil was close...so close...
With an explosion of breath, Selles collapsed, and the circle was broken. Byron felt his consciousness slam back into his body with the force of a blow. On his left, Dorin jerked convulsively; his hand fell away to land on the floor with a muted thud. Byron opened his eyes. The thick smoke of the incense burned, and his eyes immediately teared up. He blinked rapidly until they cleared, then looked over at the crumpled form of the blond girl. "Maddie," he called and gestured to her friend, "help her up. Get her some water."
"We were close!" Silverveil leapt to her feet, and paced across the end of the room. "I could feel it, I could almost see the Veil. If that...child hadn't given up, we would have succeeded!" Several of the other young men and women around the circle gave the barely conscious Selles murderous looks. Even Maddie was touching her best friend with a hint of distaste.
"You don't know that," Byron soothed. He walked over to Silverveil, stilled her, and laid his hands on her shoulders. "Maybe it's for the best. After all, you said yourself that this was just to prove the validity of the methods, not to pierce the Veil. A scouting mission, not an invasion."
Silverveil shuddered. "But we...were...so...*close*!" She grabbed a porcelain figurine from a nearby table, and flung it across the room. Everyone except for Byron and Silverveil ducked as it shattered. Byron just sighed.
"There's no need to get upset. We'll do it. We *are* close, and it's just a matter of time. Just a little more patience is all it'll take." He rubbed her shoulders gently, willing her to calm. Deep down, he wondered how much time he had, before the instructors at the Collegium realized what had happened. If they cared. He pushed the thought away, as he always did, and tried to concentrate on his mentor.
"A little more patience," Silverveil repeated, seeming to relax into his massage. "Yes, we need patience," she nodded to herself, and Byron closed his eyes in relief. He dropped his hands, and she turned to smile at him. "You are my treasure, my lord." Her eyes seemed to glow from within with the light of a field of stars, and he felt himself pink with pleasure.
Silverveil glided over to Selles and kneeled down beside her. She took the cup of water from Maddie's hands, and held it up to Selles' lips. The girl drank gratefully. "Madam, I'm so sorry. I was trying, I really was."
"Shhh. I know you were. All will be well, my dear. We simply need to work on your endurance before the next time. Perhaps you will stay with me after, and we will try together, hmm?"
Selles agreed enthusiastically, and Byron could feel the tension seep out of the circle. But not out of him. Had there been a hint of something...wrong in Madam Silverveil's tone? Something dark? No, he decided, it was nothing but her lingering frustration. She was dedicated to the search, but she would never do anything...wrong. Right?
"Well, fellow seekers," Silverveil said from her position on the floor. "I believe we've accomplished all that we can for this session. It's late, and we start again tomorrow, so get some sleep." The other members of the circle began to rise, some so dazed and drained that they could hardly walk. But no one asked for help, and Byron knew that if he offered, they would cheerfully shrug it off. No one wanted to seem too weak to continue, and they considered him to be the next in charge of the circle, behind only Silverveil, herself.
They filed out, except for Selles, Maddie, and Byron. Silverveil patted Maddie on the shoulder. "It's all right, dear. We'll probably be a while, I'll let Selles stay with me tonight."
"Maddie," Selles said weakly, "it'll be all right. Just go on."
Maddie nodded, and stood. She didn't seem at all concerned, and maybe even a little envious that Selles would get to spend time alone with their mentor. She brushed by Byron, even though there was plenty of room, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. He stepped aside to let her through, then went to stand near the two women. Silverveil was helping Selles to her feet. She waved him languidly away. "Byron, dear, you're not needed."
"If you're going to seek again, you'll both be exhausted. You need someone here to help you." They wouldn't, really, and he'd never seen Silverveil be very drained by their sessions. Like himself, she often seemed energized, even excited, at the end. But that uncomfortable feeling was still gnawing at him, and he didn't know what to do about it except to try and stay close.
"No, Byron." Her eyes snapped at him, though her voice was bland. "I assure you, we can take care of ourselves. Am I correct, Selles, dear?"
"Yes, Madam." There was no hesitation to the answer, and now both women were shooing him away. Byron bowed gallantly, and acknowledged his surrender.
He gathered his things, and moved slowly to the door. He didn't know anything was wrong. It was just his imagination. Silverveil was his mentor, she'd opened up a whole new world of knowledge. She could be trusted, absolutely. There was nothing wrong. Selles wasn't worried, so neither was he.
He repeated that line of reasoning all the way back to his rooms, gradually convincing himself that the feeling of unease was just a result of the session being interrupted so abruptly. He was reaching out for the door handle, when Rhys' voice called his name.
He spun to face the Herald Trainee. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to apologize," Rhys said. He looked Byron over, from the tousled hair to the slightly mismatched set of clothes. "It's a little late to be out and about, isn't it? Especially with classes tomorrow."
"I'm doing a research project..."
"Yes, with Healer Elias. Or was it Healer Emeraud? No one really seems to know."
Byron's eyes narrowed. "You've got a strange way of apologizing, Herald."
Rhys' expression immediately softened. "I know. I'm sorry about the argument, Bree, I really am. But this...whatever this is, isn't the way to deal with that."
Byron gave a bark of startled laughter. "Is that what you think I'm doing? That I was so broken up by our little squabble that I've abandoned my classes?" He watched Rhys' face flush, and realized the words had came out more mocking than he'd intended. He smiled to take the sting out of it, and said, "Truth to tell, I hadn't really thought about it for a few days. I've been busy."
"Doing what?" Rhys demanded. "No one seems to know where you are, you don't even take dinner with the Court anymore, and you've been *lying* to your *teachers*. Doesn't that bother you?"
It did, more than Byron was willing to admit. "This is important," he said helplessly. "I *am* doing a research project, of a sort, just not with any of the teachers here. Just, cover for me or something, just a little longer."
"What kind of research project? With who? Why won't you tell the Dean about it?"
"Stop pestering me!" The shout echoed off the walls of the corridor, and both boys froze, praying it didn't awaken anyone. After a long moment in which no angry sleepers appeared, they both relaxed.
"We're worried about you," Rhys said, his blue eyes begging Byron to understand. Byron looked away. He couldn't give in, not yet. Not when they were so close. Soon, it'd be over, and he'd apologize, and everything would be okay. But not now.
"Well, stop it," he snapped. "I can take care of myself." He jerked the door to his rooms open, and stepped inside before Rhys could say anything else.
The slam echoed down the corridor, but this time neither of them noticed or cared.