Author's Note: I was shocked to see how many of you actually doubted
Daine's chances of survival after the events of Ch. 7. Jeez. Can you
really imagine me even *thinking* about killing her off? *shudders* But in
any case, her adventure at Ravenpeak is far from over! The plot
thickens.... And sorry this took SO long, but ff.n was down forever & then
it was just not... working!!
Dear God, has EVERYONE read the Trickster's Choice excerpt? Well, I'm not saying anything, but try and keep your predictions off the review page, for those who haven't, okay?
You know, I originally meant this to be the second half of Ch. 7, but I wanted that ending... and then it was going to be the first part of this ch, but it was too long... oh well.
Thanks: to Melody. What would I do without you?
Chapter 8
Hovering just below the surface of wakefulness, she knew she was safe. Bundled in softness and warmth, with a peaceful silence resting in her ears. It would be a shame to leave such security, but she had business to attend to. Regretfully she pushed her eyes open, bit by bit, to greet the conscious world.
Her arrival was received immediately by a familiar voice not far away, growling, "If you weren't in such critical condition, magelet, I'd *throttle* you."
She sighed inwardly and blinked several times to clear the cobwebs of sleep from her eyes. Why was everything so bright? There was a window -- or some source of light -- behind the speaker; he was outlined in and obscured by the glare. She was in an airy individual room of the infirmary, pleasantly furnished and warmed by the afternoon sun. As her vision cleared, she saw that it was indeed Numair seated by her cot, looking as though he had yet to sleep or eat, and he was furious.
She made a face and tried to protest. Her voice came out in a croak. "I'm not in critical --" Attempting to sit up, pain lanced through her back and she fell back against the pillows with a grimace.
He stood, looming over her and staring daggers. "*See*?" His voice rose. "Don't even *dream* that I will stand for this; you've denied more than enough by now and I am thoroughly --"
"Numair!" That was Selene, in the doorway. She was in the same simple wool dress and apron Daine had seen her wearing the night before, and was looking sternly at Numair. "Calm down! She just woke up. She doesn't need you yelling at her when she's got a ways to heal." Striding over to Daine, she tenderly tucked the bedclothes back in and handed the Wildmage a cup of water. "Drink this; you must be parched. How do you feel?"
Daine smiled crookedly. She couldn't resist. "Wondrous."
Numair's mouth fell open. "Do you *hear* her? She nearly got herself *killed*, and she's going to sit here and tell us --"
"Keep your voice down!" snapped the healer. "How would you like to wake up with a gash down your spine and have someone add split ears to the list?"
"And you!" he shouted accusingly at the young noblewoman, ignoring her admonishment. "How *could* you? 'Medically, I wouldn't hold her' -- What in the name of Mithros were you *thinking*?"
"I'm going to be fine," Daine told him mildly. "Thanks to Selene. Her healing's doing wonders. Unlike oaths."
This apparently had no effect. "Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith!" The air in the room seemed to crackle.
Selene crossed her arms. "I stand by my judgement, Master SalmalĂn. She *was* medically sound at the time; otherwise I never would have let her go. I assure you, I am equally concerned about the Wildmage here; but you have to admit, her condition at the time is irrelevant to the fact that she was injured *during* the expedition." She looked down at the patient in question and added, "I'm very sorry, Daine. That wound does look nasty."
"See?" Daine told her lover. "Listen to Selene. I got hurt *even though* I was fine at the time. It's not like this is some potential problem that got worse because I went out."
"Oh -- and I suppose you're going to tell me that an injury beforehand had no effect whatsoever on your agility and speed in the air, when you were trying to *evade* further injury!" He glared at her.
"If you'll *listen*, I'll tell you why I couldn't have known ahead of time this would happen," she said patiently. "Can I *explain*, please?"
"*May* I," he corrected automatically, then seemed furious with himself. "Yes, I would be more than eager to hear a justification of your -- foolhardy venture."
She sniffed in disdain. Selene broke in. "Ah, before you commence your contention, I'd like to tend Daine. Now that you're awake, you get to take this." She produced a vial of some suspicious-looking liquid and poured some into a cup on the bedside table.
"Lucky me," Daine muttered, but she downed it. Next Selene took her hand, and her honey-colored magic made an aura around them, seeping through Daine. The cruel smarting in her back receded almost instantly. "Amazing," she murmured, sitting up easily. She looked gratefully at the young mage. "A lot of people in the world are going to be fair grateful to have you around."
Selene's face darkened suddenly; her eyes flicked down. "Maybe," she said quietly, and briskly gathered her things. "Just rest, all right?" she told Daine. "Don't try to move around. I'll leave you two to talk now." She left the room.
Daine frowned after her, then sighed in understanding. It was the magic. Selene didn't want to use her power on a large scale for fear of becoming a slave to it. "I worry about her," she said aloud. "The poor girl not knowing which way to go, afraid of her own magic...."
"Daine...." He was seated again, rubbing his temples with one large hand and looking tiredly at her. "At the moment I am somewhat more interested in *your* judgement, in light of a certain recent turn of events."
She lifted her chin defensively. "Of course. Here it is...." Her eyes flickered suddenly, and she turned her gaze away. "Like I said, I can actually pass as one of the People, if I try. To *them*. Normally they can tell I'm different because of my mind, and my magic -- but I can hide that. Last night, I made my thoughts like a falcon's. I was flying right over the hurroks, and they didn't guess anything was amiss. Then I -- I sensed this other magic. It was the exact same thing I felt on the East Tower that once, the power *behind* the hurroks' magic. I know it was. And remember how I said I thought it sensed me then, and pulled away? Well, out in the mountains I followed it to where it was coming from -- some cave, blocked off by a stone. And then --" she bit her lip -- "I felt something in my head. Like it was searching my mind, digging through it. And I guess the hurroks knew after that. They came at me." She looked up at him grimly. "And the way they chased me -- they boxed me in, working together like they'd never do normally."
He was now leaning back, thoughtfully tugging on his nose. "Incredible. So this force -- this power you felt -- you believe is supporting the hurroks to make them more intelligent...."
"And stronger, magically. That's why I felt it so strong on the East Tower last night."
"So they are in fact being directed," he said grimly, "but not by a mage as we anticipated. This magic behind the hurroks -- or rather, its source, if we may consider a sentient entity at the center of this -- is aware of your presence magically. Moreover, it -- probed your magic, apparently discovering that you were in fact not a real falcon -- which it relayed to the hurroks, and they attacked you."
She nodded, lip curling bitterly. "And I still have no idea what it is. It doesn't *feel* like anything I've seen before." She huffed softly. "Wild magic. You can never know everything about it, even when you're a wildmage yourself." She fingered the badger's claw at her throat, recalling what Numair had taught her over ten years ago.
"But about the hurroks... you still couldn't sense them?"
"Not a bit," Daine said darkly. "Still, I don't think *they're* any different than normal. All hurroks have magic, and I should feel it. I think it has something to do with that *other* thing out there, that's directing them. I don't know what exactly."
"Wild magic," he remarked. "It's called that for a reason."
She nodded, thinking hard. "Maybe... somehow, it was cloaking their magic. Blocking it from me. Or maybe just *its* magic being there made it impossible for me to feel it."
"As in, a neutralizing force?"
"Or maybe the strength of its power just -- blinded me from other magic." She frowned. "Though I could feel the regular People's magic. And -- there's something else. I couldn't even sense that other magic -- whatever's behind all this -- until I was out there in the plains. Close up. But I know *where* it was coming from, where I could feel it strongest. It was in a cave in the mountains. But it's *in range*, and I can't feel it from here."
He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "This is not good. So, you can only sense this -- this other force or being at close range, and evidence indicates it is behind the irregular behavior and magical properties of the hurroks, namely, that you are magically incognizant of them, their power is enhanced, and their actions are being directed, such as their strategic attacks. Also, the power you sensed in the plains recognizes your magic, but it is unfamiliar to you."
"That's right." She looked down at her blanket-covered legs and added quietly, "I have to... figure this out. I know that wild magic is called that for good reason. But it is *not* going to best me here."
He smiled wearily. "I don't think anything ever will, magelet."
"We should ride out there," she continued. "I'll want to try and look into the hurroks again, maybe. And I'll definitely go to that cave again." Her eyes tightened.
"Daine," he said warningly, "you are not *stirring* until you are properly healed --"
"I didn't mean right now, dolt."
"I would think not!" He arched an eyebrow sternly at her. "*This* time, I assure you that you are not going anywhere until you are in a medical condition to do so, and I will not be convinced otherwise if that is not the case."
She glared back at him, digesting the challenge for a moment, then said tightly, "Tomorrow."
"Not a chance."
"Selene'll see that I'm well healed."
"In a day? With a wound like that? Ludicrous."
She considered. "Two days."
"Absolutely not."
"Numair, I don't want those hurroks and that -- whatever's out there -- to try something nastier while I'm sitting about."
"I don't care."
"And you call me foolish."
"I can hardly recommend charging out there again with a fresh gash on your person. Think about it. Will you accomplish much in this state, given the task? Or might it be marginally more efficient, professionally speaking, to wait until you are well enough to properly implement your powers?"
She raised her chin and looked away, refusing to raise the stakes.
He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the bed, and looked her in the eye. "Three days," he gritted, their faces less than a foot apart. "*If* by then the healers judge your wound to be fully healed, and you in the shape you were in upon arrival at Ravenpeak. I'm one more *accident* away from packing you up and shipping you back home, out of danger, regardless of the situation here."
"If you could." She sneered. "Remember who you're talking to, *mage*."
"*Daine* --" He ran his hands through his hair, releasing a heavy breath through clenched teeth. "Don't you understand? You could have easily been *killed*! Does that mean anything to you? Or are you just determined to run out there time after time without regard to the risk?"
There was a tense moment of silence.
"First," she said slowly, "I wouldn't be so quick to say I don't understand the danger. Do you really think I could have come this far without learning? Be reasonable. And second, I'm not the only one here who takes risks, big risks, in this line of work. D'you think *I* don't worry about you? Take the war -- yes, everyone's very impressed by your earth-moving spells, but it takes a fair toll on you. More often than not you drain yourself in the fighting, with not much thought to your own health, and afterward you practically need someone to hold you down long enough to rest and get your strength back. Do you think I'm happy about that?"
He was silent, digesting this as one might spoiled milk or the sourest of sour apples.
"I told you before," she continued. "On the road. You take risks, and so do I, and it's not fun and games, but that's how it is. And you can't scold me for going into danger. I have a lot of power, and I've a duty to use it for the good of the realm, just like you."
He sighed heavily, resting his head in both hands. "Well, what can I say to that?" He laughed bitterly. "I can never out-argue you, magelet. And you're certainly right that it's not at all fun and games." He looked up at her, dark eyes pained. "I just can't bear it when you're hurt, Daine."
"It's not your fault," she protested, throat thick.
"Easily said. *I* led you to where you are now. If you hadn't chosen... me, and the life of a mage...."
She shushed him. "Please, don't say that." Her eyes burned. "You know it was *my* choice, and it's always been. And if the gods gave me a chance to -- go back, and do things differently -- I'd never change a day."
He looked tormented. "I couldn't..." his voice was thick as well. "I can't lose you."
She took his hand, blinking back tears. "As long as we're both risking our necks for Tortall," she told him, "we'll be risking them *together*. I'll always be out there with you in the field, in just the same danger as you, and that's that."
He smiled thinly, stroking her palm with his thumb. "And I'll always be here to fret whenever you go off on some imprudently brave mission in service to the realm, and to welcome you back."
"And yell at me a little," she added, smiling in return.
"That, too," he admitted. "But think how much *more* imprudent you'd be without the prospect of the yelling."
She held his gaze. "I'm not going anywhere, love," she told him, blue- grey eyes shining with the promise. "Ever." Then she smiled and shifted away from him. "Come here." She patted the bed next to her, looking up at him warmly.
With a sigh, he pulled off his boots and stretched out next to her, feet nearly hanging off the end of the bed. She rested happily against him, grateful for the comfort of his arm around her. "We never got that resting and relaxing," she murmured, realizing how tired she was.
"Unfortunately not. Certain emergencies called our attention at the time." He kissed her forehead gently. "Rest now, magelet. Before we go charging off into the heat of battle."
She was half asleep already, but she needed a confirmation. "You know I'd never leave you," she told him sleepily.
He stroked her hair tenderly, returning the vow. "You know I'd never let you."
Dear God, has EVERYONE read the Trickster's Choice excerpt? Well, I'm not saying anything, but try and keep your predictions off the review page, for those who haven't, okay?
You know, I originally meant this to be the second half of Ch. 7, but I wanted that ending... and then it was going to be the first part of this ch, but it was too long... oh well.
Thanks: to Melody. What would I do without you?
Chapter 8
Hovering just below the surface of wakefulness, she knew she was safe. Bundled in softness and warmth, with a peaceful silence resting in her ears. It would be a shame to leave such security, but she had business to attend to. Regretfully she pushed her eyes open, bit by bit, to greet the conscious world.
Her arrival was received immediately by a familiar voice not far away, growling, "If you weren't in such critical condition, magelet, I'd *throttle* you."
She sighed inwardly and blinked several times to clear the cobwebs of sleep from her eyes. Why was everything so bright? There was a window -- or some source of light -- behind the speaker; he was outlined in and obscured by the glare. She was in an airy individual room of the infirmary, pleasantly furnished and warmed by the afternoon sun. As her vision cleared, she saw that it was indeed Numair seated by her cot, looking as though he had yet to sleep or eat, and he was furious.
She made a face and tried to protest. Her voice came out in a croak. "I'm not in critical --" Attempting to sit up, pain lanced through her back and she fell back against the pillows with a grimace.
He stood, looming over her and staring daggers. "*See*?" His voice rose. "Don't even *dream* that I will stand for this; you've denied more than enough by now and I am thoroughly --"
"Numair!" That was Selene, in the doorway. She was in the same simple wool dress and apron Daine had seen her wearing the night before, and was looking sternly at Numair. "Calm down! She just woke up. She doesn't need you yelling at her when she's got a ways to heal." Striding over to Daine, she tenderly tucked the bedclothes back in and handed the Wildmage a cup of water. "Drink this; you must be parched. How do you feel?"
Daine smiled crookedly. She couldn't resist. "Wondrous."
Numair's mouth fell open. "Do you *hear* her? She nearly got herself *killed*, and she's going to sit here and tell us --"
"Keep your voice down!" snapped the healer. "How would you like to wake up with a gash down your spine and have someone add split ears to the list?"
"And you!" he shouted accusingly at the young noblewoman, ignoring her admonishment. "How *could* you? 'Medically, I wouldn't hold her' -- What in the name of Mithros were you *thinking*?"
"I'm going to be fine," Daine told him mildly. "Thanks to Selene. Her healing's doing wonders. Unlike oaths."
This apparently had no effect. "Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith!" The air in the room seemed to crackle.
Selene crossed her arms. "I stand by my judgement, Master SalmalĂn. She *was* medically sound at the time; otherwise I never would have let her go. I assure you, I am equally concerned about the Wildmage here; but you have to admit, her condition at the time is irrelevant to the fact that she was injured *during* the expedition." She looked down at the patient in question and added, "I'm very sorry, Daine. That wound does look nasty."
"See?" Daine told her lover. "Listen to Selene. I got hurt *even though* I was fine at the time. It's not like this is some potential problem that got worse because I went out."
"Oh -- and I suppose you're going to tell me that an injury beforehand had no effect whatsoever on your agility and speed in the air, when you were trying to *evade* further injury!" He glared at her.
"If you'll *listen*, I'll tell you why I couldn't have known ahead of time this would happen," she said patiently. "Can I *explain*, please?"
"*May* I," he corrected automatically, then seemed furious with himself. "Yes, I would be more than eager to hear a justification of your -- foolhardy venture."
She sniffed in disdain. Selene broke in. "Ah, before you commence your contention, I'd like to tend Daine. Now that you're awake, you get to take this." She produced a vial of some suspicious-looking liquid and poured some into a cup on the bedside table.
"Lucky me," Daine muttered, but she downed it. Next Selene took her hand, and her honey-colored magic made an aura around them, seeping through Daine. The cruel smarting in her back receded almost instantly. "Amazing," she murmured, sitting up easily. She looked gratefully at the young mage. "A lot of people in the world are going to be fair grateful to have you around."
Selene's face darkened suddenly; her eyes flicked down. "Maybe," she said quietly, and briskly gathered her things. "Just rest, all right?" she told Daine. "Don't try to move around. I'll leave you two to talk now." She left the room.
Daine frowned after her, then sighed in understanding. It was the magic. Selene didn't want to use her power on a large scale for fear of becoming a slave to it. "I worry about her," she said aloud. "The poor girl not knowing which way to go, afraid of her own magic...."
"Daine...." He was seated again, rubbing his temples with one large hand and looking tiredly at her. "At the moment I am somewhat more interested in *your* judgement, in light of a certain recent turn of events."
She lifted her chin defensively. "Of course. Here it is...." Her eyes flickered suddenly, and she turned her gaze away. "Like I said, I can actually pass as one of the People, if I try. To *them*. Normally they can tell I'm different because of my mind, and my magic -- but I can hide that. Last night, I made my thoughts like a falcon's. I was flying right over the hurroks, and they didn't guess anything was amiss. Then I -- I sensed this other magic. It was the exact same thing I felt on the East Tower that once, the power *behind* the hurroks' magic. I know it was. And remember how I said I thought it sensed me then, and pulled away? Well, out in the mountains I followed it to where it was coming from -- some cave, blocked off by a stone. And then --" she bit her lip -- "I felt something in my head. Like it was searching my mind, digging through it. And I guess the hurroks knew after that. They came at me." She looked up at him grimly. "And the way they chased me -- they boxed me in, working together like they'd never do normally."
He was now leaning back, thoughtfully tugging on his nose. "Incredible. So this force -- this power you felt -- you believe is supporting the hurroks to make them more intelligent...."
"And stronger, magically. That's why I felt it so strong on the East Tower last night."
"So they are in fact being directed," he said grimly, "but not by a mage as we anticipated. This magic behind the hurroks -- or rather, its source, if we may consider a sentient entity at the center of this -- is aware of your presence magically. Moreover, it -- probed your magic, apparently discovering that you were in fact not a real falcon -- which it relayed to the hurroks, and they attacked you."
She nodded, lip curling bitterly. "And I still have no idea what it is. It doesn't *feel* like anything I've seen before." She huffed softly. "Wild magic. You can never know everything about it, even when you're a wildmage yourself." She fingered the badger's claw at her throat, recalling what Numair had taught her over ten years ago.
"But about the hurroks... you still couldn't sense them?"
"Not a bit," Daine said darkly. "Still, I don't think *they're* any different than normal. All hurroks have magic, and I should feel it. I think it has something to do with that *other* thing out there, that's directing them. I don't know what exactly."
"Wild magic," he remarked. "It's called that for a reason."
She nodded, thinking hard. "Maybe... somehow, it was cloaking their magic. Blocking it from me. Or maybe just *its* magic being there made it impossible for me to feel it."
"As in, a neutralizing force?"
"Or maybe the strength of its power just -- blinded me from other magic." She frowned. "Though I could feel the regular People's magic. And -- there's something else. I couldn't even sense that other magic -- whatever's behind all this -- until I was out there in the plains. Close up. But I know *where* it was coming from, where I could feel it strongest. It was in a cave in the mountains. But it's *in range*, and I can't feel it from here."
He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "This is not good. So, you can only sense this -- this other force or being at close range, and evidence indicates it is behind the irregular behavior and magical properties of the hurroks, namely, that you are magically incognizant of them, their power is enhanced, and their actions are being directed, such as their strategic attacks. Also, the power you sensed in the plains recognizes your magic, but it is unfamiliar to you."
"That's right." She looked down at her blanket-covered legs and added quietly, "I have to... figure this out. I know that wild magic is called that for good reason. But it is *not* going to best me here."
He smiled wearily. "I don't think anything ever will, magelet."
"We should ride out there," she continued. "I'll want to try and look into the hurroks again, maybe. And I'll definitely go to that cave again." Her eyes tightened.
"Daine," he said warningly, "you are not *stirring* until you are properly healed --"
"I didn't mean right now, dolt."
"I would think not!" He arched an eyebrow sternly at her. "*This* time, I assure you that you are not going anywhere until you are in a medical condition to do so, and I will not be convinced otherwise if that is not the case."
She glared back at him, digesting the challenge for a moment, then said tightly, "Tomorrow."
"Not a chance."
"Selene'll see that I'm well healed."
"In a day? With a wound like that? Ludicrous."
She considered. "Two days."
"Absolutely not."
"Numair, I don't want those hurroks and that -- whatever's out there -- to try something nastier while I'm sitting about."
"I don't care."
"And you call me foolish."
"I can hardly recommend charging out there again with a fresh gash on your person. Think about it. Will you accomplish much in this state, given the task? Or might it be marginally more efficient, professionally speaking, to wait until you are well enough to properly implement your powers?"
She raised her chin and looked away, refusing to raise the stakes.
He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the bed, and looked her in the eye. "Three days," he gritted, their faces less than a foot apart. "*If* by then the healers judge your wound to be fully healed, and you in the shape you were in upon arrival at Ravenpeak. I'm one more *accident* away from packing you up and shipping you back home, out of danger, regardless of the situation here."
"If you could." She sneered. "Remember who you're talking to, *mage*."
"*Daine* --" He ran his hands through his hair, releasing a heavy breath through clenched teeth. "Don't you understand? You could have easily been *killed*! Does that mean anything to you? Or are you just determined to run out there time after time without regard to the risk?"
There was a tense moment of silence.
"First," she said slowly, "I wouldn't be so quick to say I don't understand the danger. Do you really think I could have come this far without learning? Be reasonable. And second, I'm not the only one here who takes risks, big risks, in this line of work. D'you think *I* don't worry about you? Take the war -- yes, everyone's very impressed by your earth-moving spells, but it takes a fair toll on you. More often than not you drain yourself in the fighting, with not much thought to your own health, and afterward you practically need someone to hold you down long enough to rest and get your strength back. Do you think I'm happy about that?"
He was silent, digesting this as one might spoiled milk or the sourest of sour apples.
"I told you before," she continued. "On the road. You take risks, and so do I, and it's not fun and games, but that's how it is. And you can't scold me for going into danger. I have a lot of power, and I've a duty to use it for the good of the realm, just like you."
He sighed heavily, resting his head in both hands. "Well, what can I say to that?" He laughed bitterly. "I can never out-argue you, magelet. And you're certainly right that it's not at all fun and games." He looked up at her, dark eyes pained. "I just can't bear it when you're hurt, Daine."
"It's not your fault," she protested, throat thick.
"Easily said. *I* led you to where you are now. If you hadn't chosen... me, and the life of a mage...."
She shushed him. "Please, don't say that." Her eyes burned. "You know it was *my* choice, and it's always been. And if the gods gave me a chance to -- go back, and do things differently -- I'd never change a day."
He looked tormented. "I couldn't..." his voice was thick as well. "I can't lose you."
She took his hand, blinking back tears. "As long as we're both risking our necks for Tortall," she told him, "we'll be risking them *together*. I'll always be out there with you in the field, in just the same danger as you, and that's that."
He smiled thinly, stroking her palm with his thumb. "And I'll always be here to fret whenever you go off on some imprudently brave mission in service to the realm, and to welcome you back."
"And yell at me a little," she added, smiling in return.
"That, too," he admitted. "But think how much *more* imprudent you'd be without the prospect of the yelling."
She held his gaze. "I'm not going anywhere, love," she told him, blue- grey eyes shining with the promise. "Ever." Then she smiled and shifted away from him. "Come here." She patted the bed next to her, looking up at him warmly.
With a sigh, he pulled off his boots and stretched out next to her, feet nearly hanging off the end of the bed. She rested happily against him, grateful for the comfort of his arm around her. "We never got that resting and relaxing," she murmured, realizing how tired she was.
"Unfortunately not. Certain emergencies called our attention at the time." He kissed her forehead gently. "Rest now, magelet. Before we go charging off into the heat of battle."
She was half asleep already, but she needed a confirmation. "You know I'd never leave you," she told him sleepily.
He stroked her hair tenderly, returning the vow. "You know I'd never let you."
