Chapter Nine



Lord Wyldon lifted his hands in prayer.

"We thank you, kind Mithros, merciful Mother, for sparing the life of our Queen. We ask that you would show mercy to your instrument, Lady Alanna," - Sir Alanna, thought Kel irritably - " of Pirates Swoop, who is sick and dying as a result of her selfless devotion to the Sovereign, that is, her healing of the Queen." He brought his hands down and a babble of talk ensued. Kel turned to Neal, eyes like plates.

"Dying? Neal, why..."

"Father told me to be careful it didn't get out. I mean, it's hardly the sort of thing you want all over the palace, is it? But the Stump's spoilt all that now. Honestly! You'd think he did it on purpose."

"But why didn't you tell me? You know I can keep a secret!"

"Kel, you ask me to tell you that your hero is dying? To tell you there's no hope? You want to know?"

"Yes, of course I want to know. I also want to know why, Neal!"

"Well, she used up almost all of her Gift finding out who it was who was murdering the Queen. Then she didn't even wait for it to restore itself - she went off and had a magical duel with that Carthaki mage. She won, but that really did almost drain her Gift, and it tired her out. And then - she couldn't wait any longer. Gifted babies know you can't do too much... but not the Lady Knight. She knew how to cure the Queen, she'd destroyed the spells that were weakening her and so she went straight on to get rid of their effects and heal Thayet. Well, the rest is mostly surmise" -

"Surmise?"

"Basically, guesswork. Anyway, what Father and his healers think, based on her state, is that she didn't have enough Gift left to cure the Queen. So she stole some more - she took it from her own life force."

"Her life force? Neal! How? Why?"

"Oh, it can be done." His face was greyish and old. "It's not difficult, if you want it badly enough. There are three ways. You can transfer your Gift into your life force, which uses it up as if it were your Gift, only about three times as fast. That's the quickest way to set up, but it only works for a short burst of magic because it drains it so fast. Then there's the lengthy way of grabbing a handful of life force and sort-of stoking the fire of your Gift with it, then when it runs out you go back for more. It's good, because it doesn't use up either magic or life force very fast. But, it's terribly slow. Then there's the most dangerous way. You make a bridge between your Gift and your life force. You use up your Gift first, then as you call on your Gift what you get is your life force. It gives you plenty of power for a hard or long working and you don't have to keep on tweaking the setup, but when you finish your Gift goes on draining your life until you - nobody else can, not with ordinary healing - sever the bridge. Or your life force runs out."

"Goddess, Neal! That's awful!"

"Yes. And that's what Alanna did."

Kel went through her lessons on autopilot, blocking Faleron's staff and hitting the tilting target - dangerously close to the edge and a buffeting, closer than she had been for months - with all of her mind on the King's Champion. Would she survive? Neal had been gloomy about her prospects... but then, hadn't the knight survived things before? Hadn't she always kept going when men were fainting at her feet? Hadn't she been the finest squire in Tortall? Surely the Lady Knight would pull through!

Duke Baird was not so certain. Alanna was losing strength too fast in a vicious circle, for as soon as she gained enough strength to wake her Gift drained it and more. The only way to save her was to stoke up the Lady Knight's life force with his own Gift. And he didn't have enough.

Neal came tiptoeing into the chamber, looking at the woman in the bed.

"She looks so peaceful," he commented. "It's hard to think that she is the Lady Knight, lying there like that. It's hard to think she's dying, too."

"She is dying. But if you help me, she may have a chance."

"Why? What are you going to do? And what help do you need from me? I mean, all I'm trained to do is stop pain!"

"It's not your healing that I need, Neal."

"You mean... my Gift? What are you going to do for which you need all that power?" His eyes opened wide. "You're going to put your Gift into her life!"

"It may not work. Her life may reject my Gift: it has her strength of will even without any strength of body. If it doesn't work I'll try to reverse the bridge, though that's a last resort. For if it works, she'll lose her Gift forever... It probably won't. But if I'm to know whether it will or won't, I need an answer."

"What do you take me for? Of course! I'll do anything to give her a chance!"

They left the room and went into a small ante-chamber. Baird placed his hands on his son's arms and both sank into meditation.

Looking inside himself, Neal saw an emerald flame of his father's Gift come into his own fire. The flame flared up as Neal's dark-green magic burned lower. A fiery bridge, glittering two shades of green, came into being and the boy, looking along it, saw the duke's emerald flame at the other end. As the emerald rose higher, Neal's dark-green burned low. Finally the bridge snapped in the middle, leaving Neal with a thin flame which, even as he watched, flickered and died. He was left with only a trace of its fire.

Coming out of his trance, Neal watched his father with barely concealed anxiety. Power left the duke's hands and gathered around Alanna's still body, then shivered as it melted inside. With an ominous snarling moan the magic fire reappeared and sped back to the healer, who looked up with an annoyed snort.

"A pretty clear rejection, wouldn't you say?"

Without waiting for an answer he plunged back into healing. Again the fire of magic gathered around Alanna like a cloak; again it was sucked inside as Duke Baird tried to reverse the bridge that was draining the knight's life.

But it didn't work. After an hour, Baird emerged again.

"Utterly resists me. Her Gift's too strong. Of course it's strong, what am I saying? Mine would be strong if it had been sucking my life away for three days. The poor, silly child! And what am I to say to George?"

"George has the Sight. He'll understand."

"I know, and that's what's so upsetting. I'd almost rather they stormed and raged. Then I'd feel injured, upset, because I did everything I could. But an understanding, grieving husband..." He drew in a long breath. "Or perhaps he won't understand. In which case I'll be a deaf healer."

"Father?"

"Didn't you know? George used to be the Rogue. If things weren't done right, he'd have your ears. It was the most efficient court for centuries."

Father and son sat in silence for a while, Neal realising afresh that nobody in Jonathan and Thayet's court was normal and Baird musing on the good times past. Neal broke the stillness:

"Is George coming soon?"

"On his way now. His mother too, with Myles."

"Now that is a strange relationship! Her adoptive father is married to her mother-in-law. Needs a lot of explanation, that one, until one stops thinking about incest..."

The duke gave a wan smile, all he could manage, and sobered immediately.

"How can you joke at a time like this, Neal?" he murmured.

"It's come back to Galgenhumor again, hasn't it, Father? You have to laugh, or else you cry." He sniffed slightly to prove it.

"Perhaps," said the healer, getting up and crossing to the bed where Alanna lay. "But at least one knows what one's about when one cries."