A/N: Okay, so I just have to finish this, as it's driving me up the wall, taunting me (I am getting school work done as well, so I don't feel as guilty as I could). Thank you for the reviews! Two more chapters to go.

Again, I'm not punctuationally-challenged. What is up with that anyways? This thing just does NOT like question marks or commas.

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Chapter 17

I dipped my pen in the inkwell, careful to ensure that just the right amount of ink clung to the feather-pen. Still, a drop escaped to stain my parchment, and I blotted it with a sigh of frustration. Would I ever get used to this writing system? I returned my attention to my journal.

Six months. I can't believe it's been six months already. I can't believe I will spend the rest of my life in this place. It's not—

I paused, raising my pen from the parchment. I was going to write "fair," but I knew that, in all truth, it had been my fault, my choice to come here, and that it wasn't really their fault for not being able to return me. Had it really been six months? In some ways it seemed an eternity. In others, a mere breath of time. I glanced to the window of my chamber, watching the rain make endless patterns on the glass. It was a far cry from the sunny day when I'd first met those who would change my life forever, merely six months ago.

With another sigh, I closed the journal and made my way downstairs to the library. I couldn't really complain about my situation. After all, if I hadn't come, I would never have found Lucia, would never have fallen in love with Treven, as short-lived as that had been. And how could I complain? I had my own House, full of good people, and had made some dear friends in my short time I'd been in Valdemar. There were many who would gladly exchange places with me. My conscience chided me for my indulgence in self-pity.

I closed myself up in my library, finding my contentment once more. Much had happened over the past few months since Elspeth's coronation. Lucia's Gifts seemed content to remain in a slow state of opening, but I made sure to keep her training up-to-date. She knew enough from past training to tell me when she could hear thoughts or, in the most recent instance, feel someone else's feelings. Fortunately, in more ways than one, the Healers at the House of Healing in Three Rivers were capable of training her. Her Healing Gift had not yet manifested itself, but she always looked forward to visiting the Healers, so I took that as a good sign, and hoped it would continue to grow—just in case she wouldn't be Chosen.

I'd finally gotten up the courage to go visit Treven's family last month. I'd been using the excuse of winter not to go, but with the coming of spring, I no longer had that to hide behind.

It was the best thing I could have done. Each day since I'd returned from Haven had been a day of healing, but visiting his family and seeing where he was buried was exactly what I needed.

The family had given me some time alone at Treven's grave, and the words to one of Enya's songs had come to my mind. You...you may take my life away...so far away. Now I know I must leave your spell. I want tomorrow. Although I was healing, Treven still had something of a hold on me, because I was still holding onto him. I knew that I could not have "tomorrow," that I could not really have a future as long as I continued to hold onto him. Sitting there, I was finally able to let go, and I had come home from that visit with a light heart for the first time in months. I'd immediately written to Treven's mother, inviting her to come visit me at her earliest convenience.

Life was settling down into a routine. The families were healthy, the goats were healthy, and there were no more repairs to do at the House. Life was just going on, the way it always seemed to do. I was happy, but a bit bored. Was this the life of a Lady, just sitting around reading most of the time? If I didn't have Lucia to break up the monotony, I'd go insane. As it was, I felt decidedly useless. There was only so much self-improvement in weaponswork and intellectual pursuits one could do.

And so, I had decided to turn the large, mostly empty house into an orphanage. There had to be other children who were in the same state as Lucia had been. While I wasn't certain I wanted to adopt more children, I was sure that I wanted to help make their lives better. And what greater, more delightful irony could there be than in using Nestor's blood money to fund my project? I sent word around to the nearby towns, as well as Haven, informing them of what I was doing, and seeking an instructor to come and teach the children.

The servants were actually quite pleased with the whole notion. I think they were getting bored as well. One can only sweep the same floor so many times before the novelty wears off. Marin, too, was looking forward to the addition of children, and I was pleased when he agreed to remain at the House. If I was going to turn the House into an orphanage, by law, I would need to get instructors, and it would never hurt the children to be trained in weaponswork as well as academic subjects. Should any of them be Chosen, I knew Alberich would be very pleased to find they had some prior training under Marin.

It hadn't taken long to hear from people once I sent out word. In fact, I'd just gotten word the day before from Three Rivers that there was both a priest, who was skilled in instructing children—and was willing to move from the temple to a private House—and a little boy whose parents had been killed in an accident, who were interested in coming to the House. I sent one of the servants to Three Rivers to fetch them both, and the whole House was now edgy with excitement, waiting for them to arrive later that evening.

I sat down at my desk, and, with a smile, picked up Elspeth's most recent letter from Haven. She and Kris were expecting their second child this coming autumn. She'd been quite sick for the first month or so, but was now feeling better. She also seemed pleased to hear of my plans for the orphanage, and sent her blessing. She assumed that I would soon be very busy, but extended an open invitation to come visit whenever I had time.

Upon finding out that she was expecting, I spoke to the women who tended the goats in order to have a baby blanket made from the soft goat hair that our House was famous for, and upon which our income depended. They assured me it would be ready well before the baby came.

With a sigh, I rose and moved over to one of the library shelves. I'd taken to working my way through the books I now owned. Most of them were interesting—tales, local histories, etc.—but some were a little dull, such as how to repair a broken carriage. I was learning a lot, however, and was actually enjoying it. But I had always loved school, nerd that I was.

I replaced the most recent book I'd taken—a formal treatment of herbs and their medicinal values—and reached for the next one on the shelf. It was a slim volume, one that looked very old, and as I pulled it from the shelf, I realized that it was nearly falling apart. I took it to my desk and sat down, opening the cover.

A musty smell rose from the pages, and I suspected the book hadn't been opened in a while. I carefully turned the pages. They were filled with a neat, proper handwriting that was easy to read, and as I looked it over, I could tell that it was a personal journal of some sort.

How exciting! I'd been an amateur history buff back on Earth, and I loved to read old newspapers and letters—any first-hand account from the time period I was studying. I turned the pages of the journal, skimming the words, trying to find some reference that would place it along the time line of Valdemar's history.

Finding nothing, I turned back to the first page and proceeded to begin to carefully read what was there, searching for any hint of authorship or time period.

It didn't take long, and when I found it, I immediately knew I would not be leaving my seat for anything less than a nuclear strike.

At the end of the first entry were the words, "by my hand, Stefan, Bard of Valdemar, in the fifth year of the reign of Jisa and — The following name was smeared, but I knew that the Jisa in question was none other than Vanyel's daughter, who had married her lifebonded, Herald Treven, who had been appointed as Randale's Heir, and make King upon Randale's death.

I felt slightly weak and my hands trembled with excitement. Stefan's journal! Goose bumps stood up on my arms as I began to read. I was positively sick, however, by the time I read the following entry:

Daniel Landon came to visit us this week. He has settled in so well here, one would never know he came from another world. Visiting with him is always a pleasure for both Van and me, though 'Fandes doesn't seem herself when he is around. I don't understand her sometimes. Daniel saved her and Van's life, after all, up in the Forest. Perhaps it's just a Companion thing. Sometimes they make no sense...

My heart beating fast, I quickly scanned the rest of the pages for any further reference to what had happened up in the Forest that fateful day, but there was nothing. I returned to the entry, reading it once more.

Finally, there was an answer to why the canon was so distorted. Someone named Daniel Landon, who was from another world—Earth, I suspected—had somehow gotten to Valdemar, and saved Vanyel from being killed by the Dark Lord. But how? The journal did not answer that question, but I knew of someone who could tell me.

Landon.

I was willing to bet my House that it was not a coincidence that his name just happened to be the name of man who had saved Vanyel. Although, who Landon had been in his past life, I wasn't sure, but I remembered the way he'd reacted when I'd told him some of the details of the canon regarding the Forest, and I knew that he had somehow been involved in the whole mess.

I snatched a piece of paper and quickly composed a very simple note to Landon:

I know about Daniel Landon. If I don't see you within a fortnight, I'm setting out for Haven.

I didn't sign it. He would know who it was from.

I sealed it, addressed it, and snatched the first servant I could find to take it to Three Rivers so that it could be sent on its way to Haven by tomorrow.

I'd been in Valdemar long enough now to have learned how to be patient regarding the mail system. I knew that with the arrival of Bran, the young boy, and the Father Marc, the priest, I would be busy enough, and I suspected that, upon receipt of my note, Landon would immediately set out for the House, barring, of course, any unforseen circumstances.

Father Marc and little Bran arrived later that afternoon, slightly ahead of schedule. All the servants were there to greet them. Father Marc wore simple clothes and a broad smile that suggested that he was quite content with his lot in life. His short white hair and wrinkles, together with his bright blue eyes, reminded me of my grandfather. I truly hoped both he and I would find the arrangement to work. He would stay for a week, and then we would discuss whether or not we were interested in him remaining.

Bran was about six years old and clung precariously to an old blanket and the one satchel that contained all his worldly possessions. My heart went out to him immediately. There were tears in his eyes as he faced the whole lot of us, and he seemed to visibly shrink back into himself.

Poor thing, I thought. He doesn't know which way is up. I asked Marin to take charge of Father Marc—if the man was hiding anything, or had ill intentions, Marin would be the best able to see it—while I showed Bran to his new room.

The servants dispersed, and it was just Bran and I who walked up the stairs. "How old are you, Bran?"

"Six," he said, and so softly, I almost couldn't hear him.

"I know this must be pretty scary for you," I said.

He shook his head, but I could see one big, fat tear roll down his cheek, and he pushed his blanket up to wipe it away.

"You must miss your parents very much."

Another shake of his head. "I'm okay," he said, but his lower lip was beginning to tremble.

I stopped our ascent of the stairs, put his bag aside, and sat down with him. "Bran, sweetie," I said, brushing his hair from his eyes, "it's okay to cry. No one here is going to hurt you or laugh at you. I promise."

Another tear rolled down his cheek and he started sniffling. "Tev laughed when they took me away. He said they were going to beat me and—"

Whatever else this Tev had told him was lost an outburst of sobs. I gathered Bran into my arms and rocked him. "Tev lied to you," I said. "He doesn't know anything. I promise you, no one is going to beat you."

"I want my ma and da," he cried.

My own eyes filled with tears. "Oh, sweetheart, I know. I know."

I took his bag and rose, carrying him the rest of the way to his room, which was next to Lucia's. Upon hearing Bran crying, or perhaps sensing his pain, she came out of her room, where she had been napping.

"Mama, what's the matter?"

Bran stopped crying at the sound of her voice, and turned his head to see who had spoken. I put him down.

"Bran, this is Lucia," I said. "Lucia, this is Bran. He just got here with Father Marc."

"Oh," she said, looking at him. "You lost your ma and da, didn't you?"

"Lucia," I chided. I was certain Bran didn't need to be reminded of that painful fact.

But Bran just nodded.

"Me, too," Lucia said, very matter-of-factly.

"You did?" he asked, wide-eyed.

Lucia nodded. "Mmm-hmm. But Mama took me in, like she did you." She took Bran's hand. "Want me to show you your new room? It's right next to mine."

Bran brushed away his tears. "Okay."

Lucia hauled him away, chattering on about the House, and the servants, and weaponswork with Marin, and how she wanted to be Chosen, and how she could hear other people's thoughts ("but I put up shields to block them out, 'cause it's wrong to listen to them."), and where the best places to play were. Poor little Bran just stood wide-eyed at the sheer force of her personality.

Truth be told, I stood wide-eyed. I'd never seen her like this with strangers before, and I wasn't sure if it was her Empathy, but I suspected so. In emotional situations, she seemed to know instinctively the best thing to say and when—in the context of a five-year-old world, of course. Bran seemed to respond quite well to it, so I saw no need to intervene. I followed them into Bran's room, bringing his bag.

"Mama, could we have a snack?" Lucia asked as she showed Bran around the room.

"Of course," I said. "I'll have Sara fix something up for you."

I unpacked Bran's things as Lucia proceeded to show him where the privy was. Bless his little heart, he hardly owned a stitch of clothing that was in good shape. I made a mental note to take down his measurements after supper and have a new wardrobe made up for him as soon as possible.

Lucia came back in the room alone. "Bran's in the privy," she announced, and before I could say anything, she said, "I could Feel that he was hungry."

"You Felt it?" I asked.

She nodded. "It was weird," she said.

I sighed inwardly. It sounded like her Healing Gift was beginning to manifest. "We'll go to Three Rivers as soon as we can," I said. "Healer Tecla can help you with it."

Lucia didn't seem very happy, however. "Mama, do you have any Gifts?"

I shook my head, kneeling down next to her. "No, sweetie, I don't."

"Maybe Bran has some," she said, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I picked her up. "I know it's hard being different like this."

"I wish we were in Haven," she said. "Everyone has Gifts there."

"I know," I replied, "but you know what? I think Landon is coming for a visit soon."

Lucia sat up in my arms, a smile on her face once more. "Really? When?"

"In about two or three weeks, I think," I said. It would take about a week to get the letter to Haven, and I'd given him two weeks to get here after that.

"Yay!" Lucia yelled, and then got down to go make sure Bran hadn't gotten lost.

Of course, Landon would go and surprise us all.

Six days later, I was in the library, reading the last few pages of Stefan's journal when Elsa came to the door.

"M'Lady, there's a Companion outside, asking to speak with you."

I looked up from my reading, stunned at her announcement. "A Companion?" I rose from my chair and quickly stepped through the hall to the door. I opened it to find Landon standing there, barebacked.

"How in the world—?"

:Rolan Gated me here: he said without preamble. :We need to talk.:

It was raining outside, so there was no way we could go for a ride. "Come inside to my study," I said, and I stepped back so that he could enter.

:Thank you: he replied. :Jahn took my saddle and groomed me, but I'm afraid I'm going to need a towel.:

"Of course," I replied. He headed for the study and sent Elsa to get some towels to dry him with. She returned, and I gave strict instructions that we were not to be disturbed. Her eyes were as wide had Bran's had been, but she acknowledged my command and closed the door behind herself when she left the library. I suppose it did look odd, having a Companion in your house. But there was nothing to be done about it, and Landon didn't seem inclined to put off the conversation.

:How did you find out: he asked once the door was closed.

"It's nice to see you, too," I replied, toweling him dry. Granted, I had stumbled upon a rather big secret, but I had never seen Landon so intense, and it was rather unnerving.

I heard him sigh. :I didn't mean it like that. You know I'm always happy to see you, but this is serious.:

For Rolan to Gate him there, it had to be. Putting the towel down, I went over to the desk and picked up Stefan's journal. "Stefan wrote of it in his journal," I said, and I proceeded to read him the entry I had discovered. I put the book back down. "Do you want to tell me the whole story?"

:Jaelle, I—:

"Let me phrase it another way," I said, interrupting him. "You can tell me, or you can go back to Haven. Those are your options." I was tired of his evasion on this subject, and absolutely refused to play his game any longer. If he thought he could come up here to "talk" about it and not tell me the whole story, he was sadly mistaken.

I think he sensed my resolve, because I heard him sigh once more. :Very well. You may want to sit down. This could take awhile.:

I sat down.

:Daniel Landon was from your world: Landon began. :Like you, he was familiar with the books of Valdemar. The details are irrelevant, but right before Vanyel's battle with the Dark Lord, Daniel...came here and helped Vanyel win the battle.:

"I doubt the details are irrelevant," I said, "and you haven't told me anything I don't already know. How did he get here?"

:By a Gate.:

"Obviously," I drawled. "I meant, how? Who brought him here?"

:Yfandes.:

"'Fandes?" I asked incredulously. That didn't make sense. "But why? And when did she do this?"

There was a long pause. :She...had done something she wasn't supposed to do: Landon said. :She violated the Rules and looked into the content of the books and saw what was to happen to Van and herself.:

"How?" I asked. "When?"

:That is not your concern,: Landon replied in a stony voice, and I knew that I had just stepped into a subject matter was off-limits—Companion secrets. :In any case, once she saw what was going to happen, she opened a Gate to your world and found Daniel. She brought him back just before the battle, on her way back from having carried Stefan away, and he helped her and Van defeat Leareth and his army.:

"But how?" I asked. "What did he have that could have helped?"

:Something called a grenade: Landon replied. :Several of them actually. He was a science student, but his father was in the army, and he had taken a box of grenades and was doing experiments with them. He was hiking up to the top of a mountain to set off a rocket with them when 'Fandes intercepted him. Van was his favorite character, he told her, and agreed to help.:

I just stared at Landon. "A grenade? He was playing with grenades? How old was this child?"

:Fourteen: Landon replied.

"Idiot," I said, shaking my head. "She probably saved his life, the stupid kid." I looked at Landon. "Just so you know, you do not experiment with grenades. It's a good way to get yourself killed."

:He seemed to know what he was doing: Landon replied. :The first one he threw at Leareth killed him immediately. And once Leareth was dead, Vanyel was able to take care of the rest.:

"So no Final Strike was necessary," I finished. "And they all lived happily ever after."

:Something like that.:

I surveyed Landon with a critical eye. "There's only one thing I can't figure out...were you Vanyel or Stefan?"

:Does it matter: he asked.

I shrugged. "Only to my curiosity." When he didn't answer, I shrugged again. "Well, the mystery's solved. That wasn't so hard to tell me, now, was it?"

:Jaelle: he said, :that's not the reason I'm here. At least, not the reason I'm here so quickly.:

"Oh?"

:Rolan sent me here because he's found a way to Gate you home. I'm here to bring you back to Haven if you want to go.:

"What?" I whispered. "What do you mean, he's found a way—" I was so stunned, I couldn't even complete the sentence.

:He's found a way to send you back to your world.:

I stared at him for a long moment and then shook myself from the stupor that had fallen over me. "I can't go back, Landon! Surely you know that! I have Lucia to look after, and the House, and now the other children." I just stared at him. "What was Rolan thinking? He knows this!"

:You have to go back: Landon said.

"What?" I asked. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Landon, are you crazy? I am not leaving Lucia!"

If he could have started pacing, I think he would have. :Jaelle, please—you must go back.:

A cold realization washed over me. He wasn't looking out for my welfare. He was pleading for himself. "Why?" I whispered, my heart beating fast.

:I—We want you to stop Yfandes: he said. :We want you to make things right again.:

I could only stare at him, far too shocked to answer.

:We can tell you where and when: he continued in a rush, :and put you in the right place near that time. You just need to stop her.:

I still could not find my tongue. We stared at each other for a long moment. "I—" I stood and began pacing for both of us. "How can you ask me to do this?"

:Jaelle, please—:

"Why don't you go back and stop 'Fandes? Why does it have to be me?"

There was a long moment of silence. :Because: he finally said in a whisper, :I'm already there.:

The meaning of his words slowly washed over me and I took a step back. "You're Yfandes," I breathed.

Landon didn't reply.

"But you're—you're a stallion," I said.

He snorted, an unexpected reply. :If we can be re-born in horse bodies, do you really think gender is that big of an issue to get around:

"I need to sit down," I said, and returned to my chair. "Why don't you just send another Companion then?"

:I—'Fandes has a Gate open in your world to Valdemar: Landon said. :All the Companions who were alive now were living back then. It is impossible for us to be in two places at once, so we can't go back and risk being pulled in by her Gate. You're the only one among the Herald and Companions who isn't at risk.:

I felt suddenly angry. "So essentially what you're saying is that you want me to back and fix your mistake."

:Jaelle—:

"No!" I said, interrupting him and rising from my seat. "Where do you get off asking me to do that?"

:Haven't you wondered why I've never Chosen: Landon asked. :I have. Everyone, Herald and Companion alike, have been expecting me to Choose you. But I've never gotten my Call. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me, but since you've come, I now know why—I'm supposed to be with Van in the Forest. He was my first Chosen, and unlike others who come back to Choose again, he is meant to be my only Chosen, ever.:

Now I was really getting angry. "You should have thought of that before you tampered with the way it was supposed to be!" I snapped. "I knew when I came here that I might not go back, and I decided to come anyway. I made a choice, and I have to live with the consequences of that choice—everyone does. Why should you be so special?"

:I—:

"And furthermore," I continued, cutting off whatever response he had to say, "do you have any idea what you're asking me to do? Do you know what that will result in?"

:Selenay will be alive.:

"And Kris will be dead," I shot back. "And Kyrah, and the new baby, and who knows how many others!"

Landon stepped back. :Kris—Kris dies in the books:

"Yes," I said. "The Valdemar of the books is so different from what is here."

:But that's the way it's supposed to be: Landon said. :How many more would be alive if the Forest were as it should be:

I shook my head. "But you made your choice a long time ago, Landon."

:Is mercy and grace not spoken of in your faith: he asked softly. :I made a mistake, a terrible one. Is there no forgiveness for that:

That brought me up short and I turned away to stare out of the window. His words cut straight to my heart. I knew I had made some wrong choices in my life that I would have loved to have changed, and even though I had to bear the consequences of my choices, if I had been given a chance to change them, I would have jumped at the opportunity. Was I to deny that same opportunity to someone else just because it had never been offered to me? Could I believe in those truths of mercy and grace and then turn my back on one who needed both from me?

"What would happen to Lucia?" I asked without turning. "I am responsible for her. She is my daughter."

:You could take her with you: Landon said. :Whatever you take with you will be safe from any effects of change.:

"She needs training in her Gifts," I replied. "She can't get that in my world."

:Rolan is prepared to bring you back here when it's all over.:

I shook my head. "I get stuck in this world, struggle to make a home for myself, and when I finally feel like I'm making some progress, you want me to start all over again, but as a complete stranger this time." I sighed heavily. "If I choose to do this, I would be returning to a Valdemar that wouldn't know me. My house would be gone, Kyrah would be gone, Talia and Elspeth wouldn't know me—no one would."

Landon didn't reply.

"I don't know, Landon," I finally said. I turned to him. "Do you know what you're asking me to do?"

:Yes: he replied. :And I'm sorry. So is Rolan. So are all of us, but you are the first—perhaps the only—hope we will ever have to make things right again.:

"I can't give you an answer right now," I said.

:Rolan told me that we have five days to do this before the magics shift and the opportunity is lost.:

I nodded my understanding, and let him out of the room and the House. I returned to the study as he made his way to the stables.

Five days. I watched the rain trickle down the windows, uncertain of what to do.

Should I go, or stay?