"So, let me see if I understand." Christa said after Donelle had finished her explanation. It couldn't have been called a conversation, because she had been the only one talking. Christa had just sat there in silence for the entire time. Donelle had explained the best she could to Christa why her real Gift should be kept a secret, but Christa wanted to make sure she understood correctly before she blundered something terribly. "As far as everyone is concerned--with the exception of myself, you, and the Queen and Consort--I lost control of my Firestarting Gift, and that is what killed that horrible man that attacked me."

          "Yes, exactly." Donelle said with a faint smile, a smile Christa did not return. In all the candlemarks already spent in this discussion--it was close to noon now--Donelle still had not told Christa what her Gift truly was. She had hinted that it was something powerful, and not unlike Firestarting, but Christa knew it was not Firestarting. Nothing had been burned; it had been frozen. Christa was tired, tired of being led in diplomatic circles. Every time she asked a subtle question pertaining to her Gift, Donelle would dance around it, knowing the entire while that Christa would not be so rude as to flat-out demand an answer of someone with more political power than she could ever hope to hold. It was that belief that Christa decided to use against the poor Herald now.

          "What I don't understand," Christa began in a sharper tone, meeting and holding the shocked Heralds startled eyes. "Is what my Gift is. You keep telling me it is just like Firestarting, that it is extremely powerful and even more rare than Empathy or Mage-Gift. What you aren't telling me is exactly what it is." Christa paused for breath, but when Donelle opened her mouth, once again in control, her face a mask, Christa simply talked over her. "I don't want to hear that it is rare, or dangerous, or that it is almost unheard of. I want to hear something I can recognize, like the name of this particular Gift. I cannot be expected to hold back--forget training--a Gift I know nothing about! What am I supposed to do if someone startles me when I'm jumpy? Blast them with--with-- whatever this is? I refuse to believe that knowledgeable people such as yourselves would leave a potentially dangerous Gift untrained and lose because the captor of that Gift is unknowledgeable of anything about it." Christa, her speech over, leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, still holding Donelle's gaze challengingly.

          Donelle sat in silence for a while, locked in a staring match with Christa. It was a battle of wills, and to see which would break first; the loser would be the first to look away. After half a mark, it was actually Christa who won. Donelle shifted her gaze to a point on the wall in back of Christa and finally broke the silence. "I suppose I owe you that much at least, but the truth is we don't know much about your Gift ourselves. I meant it when I said it was extremely rare. We aren't even sure how rare, exactly." Donelle ran a hand back through her hair, a gesture that Christa felt was a nervous habit. Donelle was scared, but either for Christa, or her Gift, or what either could do to others, Christa did not know.

          "I do promise you," Donelle continued. "That when we find out anything about your Gift, we will let you know. In the meantime, as soon as you're fit to work, we'll assign you chores like all the other Trainees, and you will start learning under Herald Iliana; she's the Herald with the strongest Firestarting Gift, and she will be told of your...unusual Gift and not to say anything about it." Donelle paused, waiting for Christa to say something, then continuing when she didn't. "The Healers say that they've Healed your Channels for you, but you'll still be abed for another three days. I'll send someone over then to take you around."

          Donelle stood, and Christa was relieved. Even when she'd surprised the Queen's Own, she still got no answers. Either Donelle was being perfectly sincere when she said no one knew what Christa's Gift was, or she was a superb liar. Christa thought it was the latter. After all, Heralds swam in politics their whole lives, and while they might do things for the greater good all the time, the greater good didn't always involve the truth.

          Donelle paused at the door with her hand on the knob. "Gabriel is probably coming back later, but other than him, no one will bother you. We have guards posted outside your door to prevent anyone from barging in on you while you're untrained." With that said, she walked out the door and quietly closed it behind her.

                                                                             *        *         *

          Three times, Christa had tried to leave her room, and three times, she'd been denied. She'd waited about a mark after Donelle left to go to the bathing room, only to be stopped by the guards and have a bath brought to her. That had left her thoroughly frustrated. The second time, she'd had to use the privy, only to have a convenience brought to her. That had left her both angry and embarrassed. The third was when she'd wanted to stretch her legs, and had been denied simply with an answer of "The Healers said to keep you in bed." That last had only happened mere moments ago, and Christa was seething with rage.

          :Calm down, Chosen. It's not so bad. They are not all against you.: Damon said in her mind, as he had the past few times she'd run into this obstacle. But even he sounded annoyed, and, anyway, it was too much. Christa was about ready to start screaming in frustration and anger. She was a prisoner here! She could not go anywhere!

          Christa looked out the single window in her room, and into the darkness. Dusk had fallen about a candlemark ago, and it was dark enough to obscure vision. Suddenly, Christa had an idea. She walked over to the window and looked down. She'd been staring out the window all day--it was the only thing she could do. Now, she judged the distance from her window to the ground. She was on the first floor, but the ground outside her window was sloped down a bit. She could jump down, but Damon would have to help her get back inside. Even if she stood on her tiptoes and jumped, she couldn't reach it.

          Christa pulled the window up slowly, so it wouldn't make much of a noise and alert her captors. The window slid up easily, and Christa eased herself onto it. It actually isn't that bad of a drop, she thought as she edged herself closer to the edge of the window sill. I jumped out of my room at that stupid inn where that drunk wanted to get in my pants, and that was on the second floor. With that thought in mind, Christa jumped, landing in the snow with a soft crunch, and dropping to one knee to absorb the impact.

          A strong gust of cold wind blew at Christa, nearly knocking her over, reminding her that she had carelessly forgotten a cloak, and that all she was wearing was the gray clothing left for her that was identical to the clothing Gabriel had been wearing. Oh well, too late now. Christa thought cheerfully. It's my own fault if I get sick, but at least I don't feel so trapped anymore.

          She had just begun contemplating what to do next when a shining shape materialized out of the darkness. Christa crouched down even lower and slunk back into the deeper shadows, like her fathers Mercenary friends had taught her so long ago. But a moment later, she heard an amused snort, and got the distinct impression of Damon laughing in her mind. She sighed softly and stood up slowly, wincing as another blast of cold air hit her full in the face.

          :You do realize, Chosen, that if you get sick you'll just get stuck in that room longer, don't you?: Damon said in her mind as he walked up close to her and nuzzled her face with his nose, conveniently positioning himself to block her from the worst of the wind.

          All of Donelle's talk about Gift's today had gotten Christa to thinking, and Damon's talking to her right now just reminded her of one of her questions.

          "Damon, do I have Mindspeech?" Christa asked, leaning her forehead against his and staring--or trying to--into his eyes. Damon was silent for a moment, not even his tail twitching. Just when she thought he was not going to answer her, he did.

          :Yes, you have Mindspeech. You have both types, where you can receive thoughts as well as broadcast them.: Damon replied, his "tone" gentle. Christa had the feeling he had been consulting with someone in his silence. She didn't want to press her luck, but she wanted answers so badly....

          "What other Gifts do I have, Damon?" She kept her forehead against his, but he pulled away and swung around so his side was facing her.

          :It's too cold out here. Climb on and we'll go into the stables.: Christa, not bothering to hide her disappointment--very close to despair-- grabbed a handful f his mane and scrambled up onto his back. As soon as she settled herself, Damon launched toward what she could only presume was the stables at the fastest canter she'd ever experienced. Christa clung to his mane with benumbed fingers. It was only a few moments ride to the stables, but by the time they reached their destination, Christa was shivering so hard she was sure if her fingers were not frozen in his mane, she would have fallen off.

          Damon did not pause at the stable doors and wait for her to dismount, but walked straight into the stable doors and right up beside a brazier, startling the stable boy that had been huddled next to it. Damon got to his knees then lay down so Christa was closer to the fire. Instead of getting off, Christa pried her frozen fingers lose from Damon's mane and shifted her weight back a bit so she could lay down with her cheek on his neck. Once she'd settled, Damon snorted.

          :I am not a pillow. I am a Companion, and I am being degraded as well as abused.: Christa, remembering what Damon had told her before, decided to try her hand at broadcasting her thoughts. She carefully formed words in her head and thought them directly at Damon.

          :Oh hush up. You'll get used to it.: Damon's head jerked up and he twisted his neck t look at her. But Christa, already in a dangerously unbalanced position, rolled right off his back and onto the floor. Christa didn't even bother trying to get up, she just laid there on her stomach, her long white hair covering her face. She looked, in all respects, like someone who'd been thrown from the saddle. It was about then that she realized the stable boy had disappeared. :Where did he disappear to?: Christa asked, knowing Damon would know who she meant--and the fact that she had obviously startled him by "speaking" the way he did, well, that was just an added bonus.

          :He went up to the hayloft with his friends.: There was a slight pause during which Christa simply soaked up the warmth from the brazier, almost pulling it into her. After a few moments she stopped shivering, but it felt so good to be warm, she just kept pulling it into her....and suddenly, it stopped. It was as if a wall snapped up right in her face and she crashed against it. She hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes, but she now snapped them open to meet Damon's blue ones.

          "What--?"Christa began, but Damon cut her off.

          :You no longer need to be so warm. There is no need for you to draw on it so. Until you are at least partially trained in your Gift, every time you draw energy into you like that, and it is not needed, I will stop you like I just did.: Damon's tone was as stern as it was serious. Christa felt like a puppy that had done wrong unknowingly, but was being reprimanded anyway. Just as she was about to voice her indignation, she felt soft vibrations and heard a bell-like chime that could only mean another Companion's entrance. Christa sat up as quickly as she could without passing out from all the blood rushing to her head, and looked over to see a very surprised Gabe standing with his hand on a Companion's neck.

          "What are you doing out here?" Gabe asked, obviously shocked to see her out of bed so soon.

          "I am having a conversation with my Companion. You may join if you like," Christa said, smiling sweetly up at him with her head tilted to the side.