Alaric recoiled from the sharp tone of his mentor's voice, surprised at how agitated he seemed.

"I...I came to ask you about the assignment," he said, hoping Karal wouldn't see through the improvised lie. In truth he had come to confront the Karsite man, to relentlessly pursue the familiarity between then until he knew the full truth of what lay between them—but all of his resolve deserted him now.

Karal shifted uneasily from foot to foot, no calmer than before.

"Can it wait until later?" he asked. "I have to be at a council meeting shortly, but I'm free after that."

"No...no, don't worry about it...I'll ask Perian about it," Alaric said. He turned on his heel, and left as quickly as he had come. His feet took him to the Companions' Field; Corsen leaned over the fence as he approached, concerned, and touched his shoulder with her nose.

::What's wrong, Chosen?:: she asked. ::Why are you so upset?::

The boy did not answer, but climbed over the fence, threw his arms around the Companion's neck, and led the way over to the privacy of a small stand of trees. As soon as they were shielded from the sight of the other Companions and anyone else who might pass by, Alaric let go, turned, and buried his face in Corsen's mane. He fought back his tears, but a few rebellious drops leaked from the corners of his eyes onto his friend's white neck.

::Alaric, what's the matter? You've closed your mind against me,:: Corsen said gently.

Her Chosen made a small gulping sound, and wiped his red-rimmed eyes.

"I can't explain it," he said in a quavering voice. "It sounds stupid to say it but...why is Karal angry with me?" He gulped again. "I can't understand it—he likes everyone else in the class just fine, but when I speak up or do something, he acts so strange. I can't think of anything I've said or done to give offense...why does he treat me differently from the others?"

Corsen was silent for a long moment, apparently lost in thought. Then she shook her mane, and made a sound like a sigh. ::I'm sorry, Chosen:: she said, ::I'm sorry you're caught in all of this. Don't judge Karal too harshly, for his hands are also tied. I'll bespeak Altra, and see if there isn't a way to sort this out.::

Alaric nodded, and clasped his Companion's neck again—Corsen's words were sensible, but they were no comfort for the present.

-----

::That was ill-done, Karal,:: Altra said as they made their way from the council chamber to the priest's apartments.

::Yes, I know,:: the Karsite answered sharply, ::you don't need to point it out to me—I already feel terrible.:: He stopped when he saw the door of his room before him, and turned. ::I'm sorry, Altra—I didn't mean to snap at you. But all this secrecy and deception is wearing my patience thin. How much longer will this go on? Will I have to live the rest of my life always within sight of Alaric, yet forbidden to tell him that I've known him before, that I've always known him? It's hard, friend—I did not guess before how hard it would be!::

He felt Altra's tail lashing at his side. Then the Firecat made a noise like a sigh. ::I forget sometimes that you are still a mortal, with a mortal's heart,:: his friend said, a trace of his old humor returning. ::Perhaps it is too much to ask that you ignore that heart of yours. Well, I shall see what can be done, but only if you tell one thing.::

::And what is that?::

::What did you speak of with An'desha this morning?::

Karal sighed—Altra deserved to know. ::There is a mage-weapon that has been found in Karse—they need a Channel to deal with it.::

::He asked you?::

::Yes—I'm the only one they know of.::

::Of all the nerve...! Did you agree?::

::I didn't give him an answer—I told him I needed think about it.:: Karal turned the door handle, and went into the anteroom of his quarters. Although he and Altra were not audibly speaking to one another, he preferred to have this conversation in private.

::Are you angry?:: he asked of the Firecat.

::Not angry, no. But...hmm...:: His friend trailed off for a moment, then continued. ::Karal, you're no fool,:: he said. ::You've got no illusions about what they're asking of you, or what the price may be. It's your decision, not mine.::

The priest ran a finger down the embroidered collar of his robe—how long had it been since he had taken his vows in Vkandis' name? He had not seen his home since he was a young man, since he had come to Valdemar as Ulrich's secretary. Though he had made his home in a foreign land for many years, his oath was still to Karse and to Karse's God—he was in honor bound to deal with this threat for them, to protect his countrymen. He also owed it to Selenay, to An'desha, to those who looked to him for a solution to this problem—though they never said it, he knew the deep and hard-won faith they had in his strength, in his commitment to protecting the world they knew. There were others who could teach the young Heralds the history and literature of Karse, there were others who could serve as ambassadors—but there was no one else they could ask to serve as a Channel.

Why am I approaching this decision as if I were going to die, he wondered. Who knows, I could survive. But he knew the risks of what he faced—he knew he faced, if not the certainty, at least the possibility of dying. Was he prepared to give up his life into Vkandis' hands if the God so chose? Yes, he thought. Yes—I have lived my life in such a way that, when my time comes, I can face the God without shame or regret.

Altra jumped up onto Karal's shoulder, whiskers tickling his cheek.

::You've come to a decision?:: the Firecat ask, mind-voice strangely subdued.

::Yes—I'll tell An'desha tomorrow. I'm prepared to do what he asks—I'm reconciled to whatever comes. But Altra, I'm still afraid, as anyone with a human heart would be—you will stand beside me?::

::Always.::