Disclaimer: Valdemar, Heralds, Companions etc … none of that belongs to me, it's all the property of Mercedes Lackey. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while … apart from Aline who is most definitely mine : )

A/N: Another week and another chapter … kinda running out of them now! Guess I'd better write a few more otherwise you're just going to be left in the middle of the story with nowhere to go! WOW! 98 reviews!!!! Guess I'm doing something right, but let's push it up to 100 people!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- Updated 23/5 – Darkwind and Elspeth are NOT married

Alarivana: Good to see your still with us!! I was beginning to worry that my habit for randomly killing off characters had driven people away! Lyra and Darkwind's fates are gonna be revealed soon … so keep reading!

Queen's Own: Ooh! You've just reminded me that I actually have to come up with a culprit! Heh – only kidding, I actually know who's behind everything but I'm not gonna tell you yet, you're just gonna have to keep reading : ) : )

spicyeggplant: You know when I started this story, I had no intention of turning it into a whodunit … but you're right! It was originally just gonna be about what happened after the Mage Storms but then it went in a completely different direction and actually developed a plot! I feel kinda mean about how screwed up I've made Elspeth … but at least she's got Darkwind to help her through it!

faeborn2930: you always leave such nice reviews : ) : ) thanks SOOO much!

Hildi-chan: Oops, maybe that's where at lot of my readers have gone – I've killed them with the suspense : ) hehe

PrettyKittyOreo: yup, you were the first person to read that chappie – or at least the first person to review – feel honoured? Hehe : ) Suspenseful IS a word? I stand corrected!

readerwhoforgotpassword: lots of Darian and Keisha in here! Well, not yet, but I promise there will be more in the future : )

Okay, this chapter is dedicated to Alarivana as a welcome back to the story : )

------------

After the Storm

By: JoeyStar

Timeframe: Set a year or so after Owlknight

------------

(Twins' Suite)

It might have been futile, but once again, Kero and Skif were back in the Twins' suite, surveying the scene in a desperate attempt to find something they had previously missed. Both Heralds had a great deal of experience in intrigue and the fact that they couldn't even find one clue, was a serious cause for concern. Especially when the assassination of the Heir to the Throne was involved.

'So, Lyra was over here, Elspeth there and Kris,' Kero looked down at the blood-stained chair, telling herself she had to remain impartial, 'Kris was sitting here.'

'Right.' Skif said. He sounded dubious and Kero couldn't blame him. They had already hypothesised over ten different possibilities as to what had actually happened inside the room and had therefore been through all of this many times. The only problem was, with nobody to ask they had no idea which of these suggestions were correct.

Still, Kero hated feeling useless, so she pursued her train of thought. 'What we do know is that at sometime between Darkwind and Elspeth entering the suite and the Death Bell ringing, Kris was killed and Lyra stabbed.'

'And Darkwind was stabbed too.' Skif reminded her, looking around the room as if searching for clues. He wasn't; he was just looking. Any clues they had hoped to find had remained elusive. However was behind the attack was very clever.

'Right. But Elspeth wasn't. I wonder why?'

Skif didn't answer her but not because he wasn't listening. In fact, he was paying very close attention to her words, just not the ones she was presently speaking.

'Perhaps she wasn't the intended target.' Kero mused. 'I don't think Darkwind was … seeing as by where he was found I would guess that he was attacked last. Which means that the twins were the target … and why are you staring at me like that?'

'The knife.' Skif stated obliquely. 'Where's the knife?'

'What?'

'Don't you remember?' He said excitedly. 'When we found them, Lyra's wound still contained the knife that had caused it! So where is it now?'

Kero suddenly realised what he was suggesting. 'You think the knife might be a way of identifying the killer?'

Skif nodded, curly hair bouncing enthusiastically. 'It's a long shot maybe, but the person behind this strikes me as enough of a professional to warrant professional weapons. So while it might not tell us who owns it, the knife might have some kind of hallmark to say where it comes from.'

'You're right. It is a long shot.' Kero said flatly. When it looked like the younger Herald was going to complain, she held up one hand. 'But it's more than we have at the moment so it's definitely worth pursuing. Who would have the knife?'

'One of the Healers?' Skif shrugged. 'If it was me, I'd have left it here but maybe they took it to study it or something.'

Kero frowned thoughtfully. 'Who tended Lyra?'

Skif was about the shrug but then stopped mid-action, realising he actually did know the answer. 'It was Devan.' He said with certainty. 'But I also remember An'desha being there for some reason … wait, I think it was something to do with the knife.' He struggled the recall those horrific first moments after discovering what had happened inside the Twins' suite.

Kero waited impatiently for Skif to conclude his thoughts and was disheartened when he groaned. 'What?'

'I've just remembered what happened to the knife. There was something magical about it; or at least, Devan couldn't remove it without An'desha's help. An'desha did something …' Skif waved his hands to indicate it had been a magical working. Even after all the time he had spent around Elspeth and Darkwind, he still didn't really know how magic worked or where their powers came from. He wondered if they did. ' … and then the knife disappeared.'

'Disappeared?' Kero arched an eyebrow.

'Disappeared.' Skif confirmed.

'Well,' Kero folded her arms across her chest. 'That certainly puts paid to that plan.'

'We could always ask An'desha if he remembers what the knife looks like.' Skif suggested, loath to let such a good idea go to waste. 'In fact, I could do that now.' Kero looked dubious. 'Oh, come on Kero,' Skif wheedled. 'It's not like I'm doing anything here that could be put on hold!'

His expression, a mixture of innocence and pure mischief, reminded Kero of the boy-thief he had once been. She tried to recall the hard-faced mercenary Captain she had once been but failed.

Too much time spent around Eldan. She snorted mentally. I've gone soft.

'Go on then, you impatient pup,' she smacked his arm, momentarily forgetting that Skif was no longer thirteen. 'But you'd better have good news when you return.'

He gave her a lazy half-salute and darted out of the room.

------------

(Library)

Skif found An'desha in one of the palace's vast libraries, pouring over a large tomb. The ex-thief peered down at the crinkled, yellow pages and realised it was written in a language he could neither read or understand.

Huh. Must be Tayledras … or maybe Shin'a'in.

The white-haired Adept wasn't alone; Karal sat beside him, running his fingers over his own book, a text that had been adapted for the Karsite after he had lost his sight in the Mage Storms. Karal's companion, the Firecat Altra sat between them, grooming himself.

An'desha looked up as Skif approached and smiled when he recognised the Herald. 'Skif! I didn't expect to see you here.'

'What, in a place of learning?'

An'desha's face fell and Skif reminded himself how shaky the Adepts self-esteem was and probably always would be. That was what happened when your body was taken over by an evil, sadistic Adept. Skif would never forget Falconsbane … and he doubted An'desha ever would either.

'It was a joke.' He explained quickly. 'Poor taste. Hi, Karal.'

The scholarly Karsite who had risked so much and paid the price for it, fixed his sightless eyes on Skif, giving the impression that he was looking directly at the Herald. It was most unnerving.

'Herald Skif.' He returned politely, a little less familiar than An'desha, whom Skif had known in one form or another for years now.

'So,' An'desha clasped his hands across his stomach. 'What brings you here?'

Skif could understand An'desha's surprise. While the half-Shin'a'in was a scholar by nature, as was Karal, books to Skif were like ticks to horses. They just weren't compatible and he didn't have time for them. Much better to do than to read about how to do.

'Actually I was looking for you. I need to ask you a couple of questions about what you remember of the minutes following the attack on the twins.'

An'desha looked half intrigued and half worried. 'I can't really remember –' he began.

'It will only take a moment.'

The Adept pushed his short hair back with one hand and gave a small nod. Skif slipped into a chair opposite him and rested his chin on his hands. Karal sat back in his chair, apparently recognising that he was unlikely to complete any more work until Skif was done and deciding he might as well listen instead.

'It's fairly specific what I want to know. It's about the knife.'

'The … knife?' An'desha looked nonplussed but Skif nodded positively.

'The knife that was used to stab Lyra.'

An'desha paled visibly. He wasn't used to talking about death and injury as casually as the street-smart Skif and the memory of what he has seen in the Twins' suite was still painful. In fact, he had tried to forget it.

'I don't really –'

'Please An'desha.' Skif said earnestly, eyes wide. 'This is really important. Can you remember if there was anything particularly striking about the knife?'

An'desha closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to remember against his better judgement. In his mind he heard Devan's cry for aid and recalled the knowledge that the knife protruding from Lyra's chest had magical properties. He saw himself reach out and touch the knife, then focus a blast of raw power on it, then watch as the knife dissolved and the wound was bound. He remembered the event clearly, but the knife itself …?

Skif waited edgily, shifting in his seat. An'desha seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time to reply. What was the Adept doing?

After several long and painfully silent minutes, An'desha's eyes opened again and he blinked to clear his gaze. Skif leant forward eagerly. 'Well?'

'I'm sorry,' An'desha said apologetically, 'I don't remember very much … and I can't say for certain but I think there was some kind of motif on the knife's hilt. Some kind of bird – I'm not sure …' he trailed off, looking glum.

'Some kind of bird.' Skif echoed thoughtfully. 'Are you sure?'

'I-I think so. Yes … definitely a bird of some sort. And I think it was silver.'

A knife with a silver bird engraved into the hilt. Something about that sounded familiar to Skif and after a moment of careful thinking he realised where he recognised the image from.

He clapped his hands together and rose. 'An'desha – that's great! You've just given us the first proper lead we've had.'

'Oh, right.' An'desha seemed a little confused but he smiled shyly. 'Glad I could help.'

'I'll see you later.' Skif said by way of farewell, darting out of the library and leaving a bemused pair of outlanders behind him.

------------

(Kero/Eldan's rooms)

'Gryphon's Armoury.' Skif announced triumphantly as he entered Kerowyn's rooms without knocking. 'They're a relatively new company having been set up in business only since Treyvan and Hydona came to Haven. The hallmark of their weapons is a silver gryphon in a circle of gold – I think it's a play on the elite fighting force of Silverfox's people, you know the Kaled'a'in. Though how they know about that … anyway I'm absolutely certain about this emblem because I have a pair of daggers from there and An'desha described the symbol exactly.'

He had located Kero with little trouble; simply asked his Companion Cymry where his fellow Herald was and after collecting his daggers from his room to show her, he had headed straight there.

However, now that he had entered her rooms so jubilantly he winced as he realised she wasn't alone. He cursed himself for his lack of manners and looked apologetically at the other occupant of the room.

Eldan arched a dark eyebrow. 'Come in Skif.'

'Sorry.' He blushed, walking over to join them and laying the daggers on the table.

'I've been telling Eldan about our progress so far.' Kero said, explaining his presence. Not that it was really necessary considering that as these rooms belonged to Kero, they belonged to Eldan too. 'Before you so happily barged in.'

'Sorry.' Skif repeated, wondering how many times he would have to say it before they believed him. 'It's just –'

'So what's this about the knife?'

Trust Kero to keep him on his toes. Showing both Kero and Eldan his daggers, he explained about the design An'desha had described and how it mirrored the device on his own weapons. 'I think whoever attacked the twins and Darkwind purchased his weapons from the Gryphon Armoury.' He concluded.

Eldan ran one finger over the silver gryphon. 'I've heard of Gryphon Armoury. From all reports they make high quality weapons – specialising in blades.'

Skif picked up one of the daggers and studied it almost reverently. 'It took me almost two years to save enough to buy these. Not that I begrudge it; they've saved my life enough times already.'

'If it's a high-class producer, then that suggests whoever attacked the twins is fairly wealthy.' Kero observed.

'Or they were paid to do it and spent the money beforehand.' Eldan pointed out, reminding both his fellow Heralds that despite his gentle persona, he had plenty of experience himself of the world of death and intrigue.

'True. But at least it's a step in the right direction.'

'And I think we can safely say what tomorrow's destination will be.' Skif added, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. There was nothing he liked better than a good mystery and when he pushed aside the fact that those injured were his friends, this was developing into a great one.

Eldan nodded. 'Gryphon's Armoury.'

------------

(Unknown)

Darkwind watched dully as the walls of his prison slowly closed around him, moving minutely, but moving all the same. Some part of him railed at the rest to try and escape but the more logical side of Darkwind's mind told him that that was a silly idea and he would do much better to simply sit and wait.

What he was waiting for, Darkwind wasn't very clear on. He was shivering violently now, his arms wrapped around his knees in a futile attempt to conserve what little body heat remained inside of him. And yet though his body was freezing, his mind was somehow apart from it, uncaring that his heart was beginning to slow, even as the walls grew closer and closer.

It struck him as strange that he didn't care. But he didn't have the energy to fight his own mind and he felt himself slipping deeper and deeper, almost willing the rippling walls of his cell to enveloped him. Anything would be better than the bitter half-life he was existing in.

People and places flashed before his weary eyes, imprinted across the back of his eyelids so that even when he closed his eyes, seeking solstice, the images still haunted him.

One in particular: the memory of a bright-eyed woman with silver-streaked brown hair and a happy smile remained with him no matter how hard he attempted to force it away. He couldn't remember her name – couldn't even remember his own name – but something deep inside of him told him that she was important to him in some way.

Perhaps she had been, but she wasn't anymore. Nothing was.

Darkwind was tired and though he fought it, he soon felt his eyes slipping closed. His head lolled against his chest and coupled with the intense cold he felt his senses numbing.

Yes … he thought distantly. Yes … this is what I want.

:NO!:

The voice came abruptly, out of the blue, reverberating uncomfortably around his head. He screwed his eyes up against the pain and attempted to block it out. :Let me go …:

:No ke'chara! Never!:

There was something familiar about the voice but Darkwind wasn't prepared to listen to it. Please … this is what I want …

:What about what I want?: The voice demanded and now Darkwind could sense emotions along with words. And the intense sorrow in the voice almost choked him.

W-Who … who are you? He didn't know why he asked the question but it seemed important somehow.

: Someone who's calling to you. Someone who's waiting for you.: The voice sounded desperate. :Someone who wants you Darkwind!:

Darkwind? Was that his name? It seemed fitting.

:Someone who protects you.: Her voice continued. Wait, when had he identified it as a woman? :Someone who laughs with you; someone who cries with you; someone who swore vows to never let you go …:

The more she said, the stronger the sense of her became until soon it was pushing against the walls of his prison. Darkwind watched; part of him fearful and part of him begging her to succeed, as she came closer and closer. And along with her words came an image of the owner of the voice – an image Darkwind recognised.

:Someone who needs you … someone who loves you …: the voice dropped to a whisper. :Someone who is carrying your child.:

It was those words, said at the lowest pitch that shattered the outer wall of his prison and sent it spiralling inward. Darkwind closed his eyes and bit back a scream as hot sharps of the wall buried themselves in his flesh. He clung to the memory of the woman's voice; the memory of the woman's image and slowly, his memory returned.

:… Elspeth?:

------------

HAS Darkwind finally woken up? What will happened with him and Elspeth? Will anyone EVER find out what the hell is going on here? (Do I know? Hehe)

As always, read and review : ) : ) : )