Greg stood hesitantly outside the Healers Collegium, speckled blue eyes half-lidded against the slowly rising sun. It would be noon in two candlemarks, more or less, but his friends would be much too busy with their malice towards Blues to miss him if he didn't show up for lunch.
:Oh, go on before I die of curiosity,: Surra prodded him in his mind. He sighed and glanced to his left, where his mischievous Companion stood watching him from behind the fence around Companion's Field. :I didn't ask half the Companions where the new Trainee was just to watch you fidget.:
:I'm not fidgeting,: he responded, :I'm contemplating.:
:Mmm,: she retorted, :I wish you wouldn't. You always get those dreadful headaches when you think too much. Or at all, for that matter . . .:
He stuck his tongue out at her, and knew she saw him by the musical whicker of amusement.
:Alright, alright, I'm going!: he said, once she sent a rather humorous image of her jumping the fence and forcing him into the House of Healing with a rather rude kick to his behind.
He shook his head and silently asked the gods why he had been paired with an obvious madwoman in Companion-guise, before slipping through the doors and closing them behind him . . . just incase Surra decided waiting outside was too much for her to handle, and resolved to join him inside.
After a brief, aimless stroll through the main hall, glancing inside open rooms, he caught sight of a Healer Trainee with her arms full of bandages coming towards him.
She was very small, with a quiet air about her that he didn't want to disturb, but he needed to know which room the Trainee was being held.
"Excuse me," he came up to her and smiled genially. She squeaked in surprise, brown eyes widening from behind the rolls of bleached cloth, "but would you know where the newly Chosen Trainee is?"
She blinked at him, uncomprehendingly. Greg realized he might have been a bit vague in his description.
"Um . . . he's had his Gift awakened recently . . . it's very powerful . . ." he hadn't thought he was helping his portrayal any, but the quiet girl's eyes were now glittering in understanding.
"He's . . . sorry, but I do not know . . . he's been missing since this morning," she said, her voice barely above a murmur. Greg blinked.
"Missing? As in . . . gone?" he asked unthinkingly. The Healer Trainee nodded, apologized again, and then slipped into a room to his right.
But . . . where is he? Where could he have gone?
:Well?: Surra popped into his mind, :Have you found him?:
Greg scratched his head in puzzlement, before turning on his heel and heading out of the House of Healing.
:He's . . . missing.: he reported dazedly.
:Missing? As in gone?: she asked, and Greg's grin at their similar train of thought was short-lived, but warm despite his confusion.
:Gone . . . since this morning,: he informed her.
:But . . . where?: he shook his head at her question.
:We need to find out where the Companion that Chose him is, Surra. Find the Companion, and you'll more or less find the Herald,: he said as he opened the door he had entered by and found her steady sapphire gaze upon him from the same spot he had left her at.
:No one seems to know who the Companion is, much less where to find them,: she replied, as he walked to her. :I asked just about every Companion in the Field, and no one knew what I was talking about.:
Greg scowled as he reached forward and tugged gently at her iridescent silver forelock.
:What do you mean, "just about every Companion?" Who didn't you ask?: she pulled her head away from his light grasp, and expertly snatched a loose part in his Trainee uniform, yanking him forward through the power of her incisors until he was up against the fence, and fully able to reach an itch on her neck, as she began the list of Companions she had not conversed with.
:Hyatee, because I have the distinct feeling he wouldn't tell me a thing. Emery, because she truly enjoys her peace and quiet. Carogan, because he disapproves of my gossiping. And Amaro, because . . .: she trailed off, and Greg was momentarily preoccupied with the marvel of realizing he knew every Companion she was listing - as personally as she knew them – to fill the brief silence in. Shaking his head, he decided he spent way too much time listening to her.
:Amaro enjoys his gossip just as much as you do,: he said teasingly once he shed his surprise. :I would think he'd be the first one you asked . . . especially with how smitten you've become with him!:
If Companions could blush, Surra would be doing it now. There was a hazy rosy tint to her 'voice', and there was no mistaking the embarrassment coming from her in waves.
:He's got such nice hindquarters though!: she said by way of excuse, and Greg's laughter filled the late morning sky as clearly and joyfully as a bubbling brook.
***
"Where've you been?" it wasn't an unpleasant question, and it was issued in a nice enough voice, but for some reason, the question nearly made Greg trip over his feet.
He stared at his year mate in complete shock, and his eyes whirled to the glimmering shade of a jay's brightest azure feather as he gaped.
Ever since he had told his friends what he thought about their plans for the Collegium-wide Blue-termination, not a single one had talked to him. As if he was a traitor.
And now, the most hot-headed of the bunch, was openly and – Havens defend him! – warmly asking him where he had been for lunch!
He was left utterly speechless.
"Greg? Are you okay?" slowly, Greg recovered from his shock, and blinked at the sixteen year-old in front of him.
"Yeah . . . decided to talk to me again, have you?" he asked, understandably bitter at their steady disregard of him for nearly two days.
"Er . . . well, sorry about that," he grinned and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "We were all really off-balance recently . . . but it seems to have cleared up, whatever it was. Back to the normal amount of love – or lack of it - between Grays and Blues now, anyway."
Greg's eyes once more transformed in to deeper shades, this time they swirled from jovial cerulean to contemplative twin pools of a stormy night sea.
"Back to normal, huh? Yeah . . . makes sense, I suppose . . ." he muttered to himself. His friend watched him silently with inquisitive hazel eyes.
"So . . . no hard feelings, right? Not gona string me up for yelling at you?" Greg nodded distractedly, mind set firmly on his thoughts, and not on his relieved year mate.
If the Projection smothering the Collegium had been lifted, it meant one of two things.
Either the Trainee had developed incredibly strong Shields, and had been removed from the Healers Wing into his Trainee quarters, or he had left the Collegium all together.
Given what the Healer Trainee had said about the new Gray found missing, Greg was inclined to believe the latter was true.
But why would someone want to leave the Collegium after being Chosen? Immediately, Greg's mind supplied him with an ample number of answers.
He might have left something behind . . . material or otherwise . . . but what can he have at home that can't be satisfactorily duplicated here? Family, that's the only thing I can think of . . . but doesn't his Companion give him that? At least to a certain extent, anyway . . .
And that was the gist of just about every answer his brain provided. Wherever the Trainee had come from, whatever he had before the Collegium, couldn't possibly be worth leaving his Companion.
But then again, perhaps he hadn't left his Companion. Perhaps they had left together.
But still, the why of it remained unknown.
:He's definitely gone, love,: he said almost sadly to Surra. :Not a trace of him or his Projection in the Collegium. I take it you had similar luck in the Field?:
:Actually . . .: her mischievous voice floated back, :I've gathered a rather odd bunch of facts.:
:Oh?: dare he hope? :And just what facts are those?:
:Nothing about the Trainee, but there are Companions missing.: she said abruptly, with an uncharacteristic lack of preamble.
He blinked, both at her unusual behavior and the newly acquired information. Companions? Shouldn't there be only one missing?
:Two, actually. Amaro and Hyatee,: she reported.
Well, that was odd. Amaro had yet to Choose, and Hyatee had Chosen Herald Menith nearly two decades ago. Why would they go missing?
:That has yet to be answered,: Surra commented unhelpfully.
:Well, if the Companions don't know anything about all this . . .:
:Then you can bet the Heralds don't,: she finished for him. He nodded to himself, before sighing and disconnecting from her gently.
His curiosity about the new Trainee had doubled, and it looked like he wasn't going to get any answers to his questions in the near future.
Just who is this new Trainee . . . what's his Gift . . . and is it the reason he's left, or is it something else?
For some reason, he couldn't shake that chillingly confusing possibility off.
***
Jhaspar's troubled ebony eyes slid half-way shut, and he forced his clenched jaw to relax before he broke a tooth.
Sitting calmly across from him, King Aboras and Herald Kara continued to talk in entirely controlled tones. They politely ignored the rising strain Jhaspar was trying desperately not to show, giving him time to regroup himself and reenter the conversation.
Unfortunately, their chat was centered on the one thing that was certain not to ease Jhaspar, and that was the missing Blue, and the missing Herald.
"So, from what few facts we have gathered," Kara was saying, her own calming eyes and voice undulating over both men in soothing waves, "there are two Companions missing, along with a Herald and a dangerously Gifted Unaffiliated Nobel. Herald Roasin woke this morning with a set of his Whites missing, though nothing else seems to have been disturbed-"
"And what would you say all this points to, Herald Kara?" Aboras asked, though his gentle tone held no impatience, as his interruption might have implied.
Kara took no offence from her cut-off speech, and continued to talk as if she had not heard her king.
"From these verities, along with a handful of possible explanations submitted to me by an assortment of persons, I have concluded that Neoka Marron – aforementioned missing Unaffiliate – and Herald Menith have left Haven, in search of some unknown means, astride the Companions Amaro and Hyatee."
That was of no help whatsoever, but Kara kept her mask of emotionless beauty in place, even with the small - quickly smothered by a fit of coughing - derisive snort that escaped Jhaspar.
"And you have no idea in which direction they've gone, nor what these 'unknown means' could be?" Aboras inquired. Kara hesitated, then briefly shook her head.
"That hypothesis would have no bearing in fact, I'm afraid, Highness. Therefore, I cannot say I know where nor why they go."
"Very well, then," Aboras relented with a weary sigh, slumping back into his chair in a most un-kinglike way. "I suppose we will have to postpone the Border mission?"
Jhaspar's ears perked at that.
The Border . . . the Mage . . . the sickness . . .
Could all these have drawn Neoka and Menith out of Haven, and towards Hardorn? Unless either one of them had gotten wind of what Jhaspar had in store for them . . .
I've only told a part of my plans to Aboras . . . but that part could be deduced into the entire thing, if one were clever enough . . . . So really, Menith could know where I was planning to send him, and why . . .
Ah! Gods, why is this getting more complicated by the moment?!
He closed his eyes fully and took a deep breath.
"Your Highness, I see no reason why the Border bound Heralds should delay their mission in sight of all this. However, I think they should be fully aware of what they might find on their way to the border. Perhaps we should add the order of finding and returning Neoka Marron, Herald Menith, and the Companions Amaro and Hyatee to Haven?"
Kara and Aboras fixed him with their open, composed gazes.
"If I recall correctly," Jhaspar went on, "one of the Heralds in the group is a mage. Perhaps he could Scry, and see where our missing people are?"
But that suggestion was immediately put down by none other than Carogan.
:For Herald Tru to Scry out Neoka and Menith's location would require knowing what they looked like. Datan – Tru's Companion – tells me that neither of them ever met his Herald.:
Jhaspar sighed and tiredly made a dismissing motion with his hand before Kara or Aboras could comment on his idea.
"Caro says that is not a possibility."
"Well, if we aren't postponing the mission, we're just going to have to hope that our omitted Herald and Blue are heading for Hardorn, and that the Heralds can stop them," Aboras said with a small shrug.
Kara did not look as if she liked that plan, but Jhaspar could hardly blame her. He didn't much like 'having no choice but to hope' himself, and he knew Amaro was her Companion's son. This made things a lot more personal for her, and therefore a lot more complex.
"I will inform the Heralds of their new orders," Jhaspar rose from his seat and left the room quietly.
Aboras let his eyes fall to Kara, who was sitting rather stiffly on the padded chair across from him.
"I'm sorry, Kara," he said softly, "but it seems we cannot do anything more."
A light trembling in her hand, which she lifted from her lap to tuck a loose strand of wine-red hair behind her ear, was the only thing that gave away her distress.
"I completely understand, Majesty," she said gracefully, rising and straitening out her white tunic. "And now, if you will excuse me, I've several matters that need my attention."
He nodded sympathetically, and she left as quickly and silently as Jhaspar had.
It was only then that Aboras let himself drop his head into his hands.
His ruling had never been easy, and he had never expected it to be, but things were tying themselves into knots faster than he could undo them, and it was beginning to fray his already worn nerves.
He allowed his fingers to twine themselves into his graying blond hair, and grasp lightly.
One moment of weakness with no eyes watching was what he needed. Just one moment to shield his face from the storm and think about absolutely nothing. And he gave himself that moment. He dug the heels of his hands into his tightly closed eyes until flashes of colors danced before him, and then he relaxed, and pulled his head from his grasp.
It was the equivalent of taking a deep breath before plunging one's self back into the never ceasing battle of life, and he was ready, if not exactly willing, to face the unavoidable swords once more.
***
Herald Mage Tru blinked at the King's Own Herald standing across from him, mossy green eyes turning swampy in his bewilderment.
He glanced at his long-time friend, Herald Rhes, who sent him a quick look back. Rhes and Tru did not need Mindspeech to convey their thoughts to each other; they had been cohorts long enough to know at a fleeting look what the other was trying to say to them.
And right now, Rhes was as puzzled by the Own's request as Tru was.
"Let me get this straight," Tru began, turning his gaze back to Jhaspar. "You want us to search out and bring back a Herald, two Companions, and a Blue with a power so incredible he could blow our minds to dust in a matter of seconds . . . how?"
Jhaspar sighed deeply, tilting his head and surveying them with knowledgeable dark eyes.
"Menith cannot disobey orders coming directly from the King," he said, leaning his head into his hand, "and if all three of you work together, I'm sure Neoka's Gift can be subdued long enough for you to bring him back."
Tru shared a glance with Rhes once more, and then to his other long-time comrade, Herald Veera. Veera's shadowy blue eyes dimmed into a deep, dark amethyst as she returned his glance. She was either very interested in Jhaspar's new orders, or very skeptical.
You never could tell with that woman.
"If his Gift is as powerful as you and the Healers have made it out to be . . ." Veera commented softly and suddenly, "capturing and containing him will be a near impossible task."
Rhes nodded slightly in agreement, though added nothing. Tru spoke for both of them.
"Veera is right . . . as usual," he grinned slightly in her direction, and the flash of amusement was returned, just as briefly. "These orders do not seem well thought out. We're going to need a foolproof plan, if we intend to get the boy back to Haven with his – and not to mention our – minds intact."
Jhaspar's eyes flickered with some unreadable emotion, and Tru fell silent.
"Impossible or not," the Own said as his shoulders become rigid, "foolproof or not, these are your orders."
Tru could think of nothing to say in return, so he nodded once in answer. Veera's murky indigo eyes slid further closed, and she became as unreadable as Tru had ever seen her. She did not add a nod to Tru's, but she did not refute the Own as he stiffly left the room.
Tru sighed and toppled over onto a cushioned chair, hands behind his head and eyes closed.
"Well . . . what are we going to do?" he asked into the silence, knowing Veera and Rhes would sit and think mutely for candlemarks if he didn't start up a conversation.
"What can we do?" Rhes said, and Tru could taste the shrug on his words, "Orders are orders."
"Yes, but Heralds aren't meant to blindly follow their monarch's commands," Veera pointed out. "We're meant to think about them. We're meant to act on our best conscience, and that is what makes us effective weapons. We aren't foot-soldiers, we're trained to think before, during, and after we're given our instructions."
"So we won't make an effort to find and secure the boy and Herald?" Rhes asked, and Tru popped one eye open to find his friend raising an eyebrow at Veera.
"Perhaps," Veera answered, returning the ironic gesture, "and perhaps not. I do not yet see this order as pressing as the original was. I don't see how this boy could become such a problem as to call Heraldic attention to himself, much less the kind of attention Jhaspar is asking of us."
Tru rubbed the bridge of his nose idly as he delved into his own thoughts.
The last person that would take a Herald and his power for granted would be another Herald. Jhaspar had to know what he was doing. He was the Own, and knew Heralds as intimately as any other. He wouldn't send three Heralds after a boy if he didn't think the child required such action.
"I think we've at least got to try and bring the boy and Herald in," he said, moving his hand to massage his left temple rather than his nose. "I think we'd better take the Own's word, if he thinks the boy needs to be in Haven."
The others sent him measuring gazes, and he shrugged in response.
"As Rhes says, orders are orders, no matter how much you think about them. If we find the Herald and child, we'll have to figure out what to do from there."
Veera looked away disapprovingly, clearly showing what she thought of that, but Rhes sent him an appreciative glance. He smiled lightly in return, knowing how easily and often his friend lost his arguments to Veera.
"We'll leave in the morning, as scheduled," Tru said, rising from his seat. "I'll see what information I can gather on this Neoka Marron while we're still here."
***
Rhes ran a hand over Leander – his tall, graceful Companion mare – rechecking his saddlebags as she leaned into his caress.
:Datan says Tru is on his way,: she informed him, referring to the Companion on her other side, who nodded, :and that he has some more information on Neoka Marron.:
He smiled at Datan as he swung himself into the saddle, knowing the silver stallion had Chosen a rather difficult man, and would probably never get enough recognition for making sure Tru and the people around him didn't go mad from the Herald's eccentric side.
Gathering up his own Companion's reigns, he glanced over his shoulder at Veera, astride a very fine looking Companion mare.
He shook his head a sent a gentle glare towards Leander. The "very fine looking" with which he had mentally described Coren - Veera's limber little mare - had come directly from her wicked mind.
He sighed. He was probably the only Herald with a shaych Companion, and though it was a burden sometimes, it made for interesting talk between fellow Heralds.
The aforesaid Companion whickered in amusement.
:Not my fault you listen to everything I think,: she said, clearly amused.
:Are you insinuating the fault is mine?: he asked incredulously.
:I am indeed,: she said, with a distinct snicker in his mind. :Your Mindspeech is strong enough to bother me whenever you're nearby. And though it lacks the strength of the Blue we are after, it is still enough to lay the blame upon.:
He was about to retort, when Tru entered the stable.
"Mount up," he said immediately, unusually serious. "The news I have will have to be told as we ride."
***
They were out of Haven as quickly as their Companions could maneuver through the midday crowd, and the grim expression on Tru's face did not let up.
Rhes and Veera watched him worriedly. Not much could cause their friend to act as he was, and they were both fervent and hesitant to learn what Tru could have found out about Neoka Marron.
They would not force their friend to speak with them, though, so it was nearly a candlemark of riding before the silence was broken.
"Oh, good gods, Tru!" Veera snapped, eyebrows lowered dangerously as Coren danced nervously beneath her, "Whatever it is about the Blue you've discovered couldn't possibly be as dramatic as you're making it out to be!"
Tru glanced briefly at her, before sighing and shaking his head.
"I . . . had to do a good bit of wandering around Haven to find anyone who would even talk about the Marrons," he said, softly. "In the end, it was an old manservant who parted with some information, and even that came at a high price."
Rhys gently prodded Leander into a faster pace, and drew up beside Tru.
"Why would it be so difficult to gather information about Nobles? Surely it couldn't have cost you more than a silver piece, if the information was from trustworthy sources."
"It cost me quite a few silver pieces, and supper to boot. Seems Lord Marron has a habit of making sure any relevant information about him and his family is kept from prying – and not to mention cheap – ears. However, there was an incident ten years ago that he had trouble covering up," Tru responded, keeping his eyes trained on the path ahead.
They were riding at a steady speed, and would reach the first available Way Station before the sun set. Rhys was understandably uncomfortable with the idea of that many candlemarks of riding, and decided to distract himself with further conversation on the subject Tru was seemingly hesitant to speak about.
"What kind of incident?" Veera spoke up, from the other side of Tru.
"The scandalous kind," Tru replied. "The kind that ruins entire bloodlines, and the Marron name is almost as infamous as the Ashkevron name. Only about a quarter of the Nobles in Court know anything regarding the Marrons, and those are the ones that either can't be bought, or are already bought by Lord Marron himself."
"Well?" Rhys said impatiently, leaning towards his friend, "What is it? What's this unpleasant incident no one speaks about?"
"Simple enough," Tru said. "Lady Marron had an affair."
Veera scowled darkly from her saddle.
"That's it? That happens all the time, Tru. And though it is scandalous, it's hardly going to 'ruin the bloodline'. The gods' know the Ashkevrons have had their share of scandals on that same subject, and it hasn't made them any less respectable."
"Yes, but none of the Ashkevrons got themselves tangled up with foreign royalty," Tru shot back. Rhys and Veera blinked at him.
"What do you mean?" Rhys asked. Tru sighed again, running a hand through his auburn hair.
"Lady Marron had a disastrous affair with a Hardornian Prince," he stated simply. "Lord Marron found out about it, though I've no idea how, and confronted her. From what I could get out of the servant, things took a turn for the worst. Lady Marron ended up leaving, with her youngest child in tow. I'm assuming the child was the offspring of her affair, but I didn't have enough silver to get the man to say it.
"Well, once the Lady had left, it was only the Lord and the eldest son," Tru shrugged. "And Neoka was immediately sent to the Collegium by his father."
"But what happened to Lady Marron and the child?" Veera asked, keeping her frown in place, "Where are they now?"
"Hardorn," Tru said, sending them both a meaningful glance, "and while I don't know the details of how the affair turned out, I do know that Lady Marron and her child have not returned to Haven."
:Perhaps this is why Neoka is going to Hardorn?: Leander asked Rhys, who promptly asked the question aloud.
"It might be. I don't see another reason why he'd go . . . I just don't know why he took a Herald and Companion with him," Tru answered.
"Well, that's easily answered," Veera said unexpectedly. Both males turned their eyes to her curiously, and she sent them patronizing looks, "His Gift! If he has the power to destroy minds, it kind of follows that he has to power to coerce them."
"And he isn't a Herald . . ." Tru murmured.
"So he would use the power to do just that . . ." Rhys finished for him.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence, and Rhys was almost too deep in his thoughts to notice the rising shape of the Way Station ahead of them. The sun was already half set, casting the trees around them into shadow. It was only when they were over the last hill between the Station and them did they see two white, large shapes grazing in front of it.
***
Neo woke groggily, head and body buried beneath blankets, and his mind swimming most uncharacteristically.
Slowly, in case he was still suffering from a Reaction Headache, he crawled out from the pile of covers.
A warm, merrily cracking fire met his ears and eyes, met immediately by an exquisite burst of spicy, familiar scent.
Someone was cooking some kind of fowl.
A low, harmonious whistle sounded from outside, and Neo turned his head to blink at the occupied door.
"Woken up, have you?" it was Menith, holding a freshly polished Companion hackamore in one hand, and a silver hair-coated brush in the other.
Neo didn't answer him, but it seemed his mentor wasn't waiting for an answer. He continued to whistle, which didn't seem like a trait Neo would have though Menith had.
My mind is soup; Herald Menith is singing like a bird . . . has the world gone mad while I slept?
Menith entered the small cottage and proficiently stashed the hackamore and brush in a corner.
"Hungry?" he asked, pointing to the thick looking broth in the cauldron above the fire.
Neo swallowed once, in case his voice sounded as dry as his throat felt, and grunted out an answer.
"Yes."
Menith conjured up two wooden bowls and began to serve them while Neo collected himself and tried to clear his mind of the haze that kept him from thinking properly.
The broth helped exponentially. It was spicy and soothing for his throat, and relaxed his over-taught muscles enough so sitting on the edge of the bed wasn't uncomfortable.
Through half-lidded eyes, Neo watched Menith as the Herald ate his own broth and stared into the vibrantly ginger fire.
I . . . I like this, he realized with a small twist of his stomach, I like being outside the Collegium . . . I like eating supper with another . . . I like camping out in Way Stations . . .
And then, with a tighter, almost painful lurch of his insides, he remembered why they were camping out in Way Stations.
Sickness . . . Vannasa . . . Mage . . .
Something of his thoughts must have reached his face, for Menith was hovering in front of him suddenly, grasping his shoulders and staring into his face concernedly.
"Are you alright, Neoka? Is it another headache?"
Weakly, Neo shook his head, and made an effort to get his emotions and expression under control.
"I . . . we need to go," he whispered, once he'd succeeded with the latter. The former was proving to be a rather difficult thing to control, but he continued to try as he stumbled to his feet and made his way to the door.
A very large, white body was unexpectedly in his way when he made it to the doorway, and he found himself staring into the bottomless sapphire eyes of a familiar Companion.
:You are not well yet,: Amaro said. :You need more rest.:
"I'm fine," he croaked out, pushing past the Companion and stumbling into the small, grassy clearing surrounding the Way Station. Night was nearly upon them, but it was as good a time as any to travel, as far as he was concerned.
"Herald," he began, turning around to face Menith. He didn't know why he hadn't said anything about the sickness and the Mage before, but he couldn't dwell on that now, "there's something . . . you have to know . . ."
It was getting difficult to talk, and every being in front of him knew it.
"You can tell me later," Menith said, taking a few steps towards him. Neo stepped back, shaking his head.
Suddenly, he stopped. His ebony eyes opened wide, and he froze where he stood, paling by the moment. Menith froze with him, but he was staring at Neo in worry, and did not feel what Neo felt.
Neo slowly turned around, eyes narrowing as he scanned through the trees.
He felt it. He knew there were people out there. Their thoughts echoed past his Shields, and their ghostly presence in his mind told him quickly just what kind of people they were.
"Heralds," he gasped, backing up until he bumped up against Menith's chest. Almost immediately the contact was broken, but Neo's Shields could not sustain themselves from such closeness.
Did he say Heralds? Heralds are here? Already? Menith's thoughts burned into his mind, and Neo was too shocked to do anything but stare ahead of him. Nothing he had "heard" had ever been this loud, but before he could reestablish his Shields, another wave of thought from his mentor washed over him.
Well, at least I don't have to drag the boy back to Haven on my own . . .
That broke him from his stupor. Stumbling away from the Herald, Neo turned stricken eyes to him.
Slamming his Shields up, his gaze quickly turned from shocked to betrayed.
He was never going to help you, his mind whispered to him, he was just waiting to bring you back to Haven . . .
Another, smaller voice said that if that were true, Menith could have done so easily while he had been passed out, but the voice was drowned out by the deceit Neo felt.
Almost unconsciously, Neo bolted past Menith, and scrambled atop the confused Amaro. The Companion danced uneasily beneath him, but seemed reluctant to throw him.
:Go, Amaro!: he shouted at the Companion, and as he shouted, threw every horrifying, disorienting thing he could think of at Amaro's mind.
Amaro, fraught with images of destruction, death, and demons, rolled his eyes madly, and leaped into a wild run.
If not for the guiding of Neo's hands on his mane and in his mind, Amaro would have run straight back to Haven.
The world blurred past them, and Neo doubted they could have gone any faster if Amaro had had wings instead of hooves.
At full speed, Amaro was something to behold. His slim muscles slid beneath Neo's legs expertly, his breath came out in short frightened pants, and his head was stretched out, align with his spine.
Ribbons of silver hair flicked Neo in the face, but he ignored them. Urging Amaro on by yet more terrifying Projections, he himself was caught up in them. He lost himself in gory, sickening imagery, until he could not longer feel the distinct painful bareback ride of a Companion at full alacrity.
The wave of horrible images finally ebbed, and Neo found himself barely clinging to Amaro, as the Companion heaved hugely beneath him.
Blinking air-torn eyes, Neo scanned the landscape around them as Amaro slowed his breakneck pace, and finally stopped, legs shaking and head low to the ground.
Neo slipped off him, panting himself. He recognized nothing about this landscape. It was all farm land to him, with not a farm house in sight.
How far had they come? Had they passed the one respectable town on the road to Hardorn's capitol?
Wearily, Neo fell to the ground, just as Amaro collapsed beside him. Looking around once more, he felt a tingling feeling ahead of them.
Narrowing his eyes, he studied the land in front of them as best as the moon allowed him.
Blinking in surprise, his panting increased in volume.
Ahead of them, like a huge, invisible wall, was the Shielded border of Hardorn.
That was a six day ride! He thought amazedly, I can't hold a Projection that long . . . and the night is just beginning to wane!
He wasn't an expert on beasts and their speeds, but Neo knew the impossible when he saw it. There was just no way Amaro could have run that far, that fast! Absolutely no way.
But the Border loomed up ahead of him, unmistakable and unaffected by his disbelieving thoughts.
There was no denying it. They had reached the Border in a night. Amaro could run that fast. And it was possible.
A glance at the Companion proved that Amaro was just recovering from his flight, and he looked as if he'd run the entire length of Valdemar, instead of just half.
"You did it," Neo whispered, giving him a shaky smile, "you did it, we're here . . ."
Authors note: I think there are a few spelling and grammar mistakes up in there, but nothing too bad, I hope. This took a long time to write, so I won't delay the update any longer with answers to reviews. Hope you don't mind!