Disclaimer: Not mine – Tamora Pierce's. I just borrowed.

Chapter 4 - Focus

It took a long time for Numair to go to sleep, despite his remaining exhaustion. His mind simply could not shut down. He tried meditating but even that seemed impossible right now. He took a walk at sundown and visited the horses. A few years ago this was the last place anyone would ever find Numair, but here he was. He talked to Cloud like she was an old friend, rather than the saucy equine that usually only got on with Daine.

"Hello, Cloud," he whispered. He could see George and Alanna sitting by the fire. If they knew he was up and about, they never showed any signs of it and he really didn't want to alert them. "I thought you would want to know that we're doing everything we can for Daine," he told the horse still in a whisper. She chuffed lightly. "She is really sick. But I promise I won't let anything happen to her." Cloud pressed her nose into his chest. He thought that pretty much said everything. He patted her. He pulled out the brush that Daine always used on Cloud. It was softer than a curry comb and apparently Cloud liked to have her mane brushed out. He groomed the horse in silence for a while, thinking about the state of things.

The last of his hope that Daine would ever return his affections had been obliterated in that tent. He could see how stupid he had been about it all. He wanted that delirious "love you" to be for him. Apparently Perin had won her heart though. He tried to tell himself it was right – they were close in age and both so much more vibrant than he could ever hope to be. How could she want a book worm when she could have an extrovert like Perin? He had learned a lot about Perin by asking around. The boy was clever and good at his work. But he was also very friendly and a bit prone to pranks. Most everyone in Corus who knew him liked him. Numair could not. He had no good reasons other than jealousy to detest the boy, but that's how he felt.

There was a big part ofNumair that wanted to flee. He had responsibilities to attend to and then – but there wasn't really any place left for him. He had no interest in Carthak. He had about the same feelings for Kaddar that he did for Perin, although Kaddar had not won Daine's heart either and maybe that meant that he had more in common with Kaddar than he realized. He did not want to return to Tyra. Scanra was an enemy and the people up there were mostly barbaric. He supposed he could go to Galla, Tusaine or Yaman, but those countries were allies and he might run into old acquaintances. He could go east until he ran out of land and see what was beyond.

This was stupid. He owed too much to Jon to ever leave. Maybe he could confess to Jon and beg to be sent somewhere to spy or something. Could Jon ever forgive this? He imagined Jon would take one look at his own daughter, who really was not that much younger than Daine and want to throttle Numair. At least my troubles would be over. He grimaced to himself. That kind of thinking would get him no where. He could no more confess to Jon than he could to Daine.

He continued grooming Cloud until she stomped at him. She had obviously tolerated him enough. He moved his attention to Spots. In true Daine fashion, he thanked the Gelding for carrying both of them. "You're a good horse to put up with me," he told Spots. The horse whickered lightly. He was sure it was an agreement or maybe the horse had a cussing streak he didn't know about. He chuckled at his own folly.

He began to groom Spots, wishing desperately that he could make Daine well and find a way past the ache that had settled in him. This was that hollow feeling in his chest that he believed was the reason people had decided to call it a "heart-ache" when love was unrequited. The pressure felt like something heavy had settled against his lungs, making it hard to breathe. It was a strange thing really. There was no biological reason for it. He doubted if any healer could find a cause if they examined him. He supposed he should get used to it. It might remain there for a long time.

It was right and good that Daine should be happy. He thought that if he were the man he wanted to be, he would simply be happy for her and let her go. The Goddess had told him that others had to choose their own path and it would not always be the one he wanted. He couldn't make Daine love him and he wouldn't want to. The only way he wanted Daine was completely of her own freewill. He gave the horses one last pat and returned to his tent.

He lay down and tried to meditate again. His efforts were interrupted by his brain's inability to shut down for a while. He thought about the dream he had before he woke to find Daineon top of him. It was nice. He half laughed at Kit's role in it. He was glad Kit wasn't along to see her "Ma" like this. Kit had stayed with Tkaa. The little dragon wasn't eager to camp in winter and Numair couldn't blame her. Still, Daine had not wanted to be away from her for long. He imagined that Kit would be giving Tkaa a lot of trouble by now. That was her usual reaction when she was away from Daine.

He began to wonder about whether the unicorn fever had hit Corus again. He knew Alanna would have talked to Jon and Thayet about what happened to the riders. He wondered if he could have saved them all if Daine and he had still been with them. He also wondered if he would have realized earlier that they had been exposed to the fever. At least one of them must have been suffering the early symptoms while they fought the flying monkeys and never said anything. He wondered who it was and how they had come into contact with it, unless – what if the monkeys had carried it? He wondered if that was possible. He wondered if they had somehow found a way to use germs against their enemies. That was a frightening thought.

At some point his thoughts became dreams, though he was never sure exactly when. He woke up after dreaming he had attended Daine and Perin's wedding. Right at that moment, he felt like he might never smile again. His mind drifted to Daine in her tent suffering so. The last thing Alanna had said to him seemed to echo in his mind, "If only she had just a little more strength." There was something he could do, he had no healing magic but he did have the ability to give his own power away if he so chose. It was focus magic.

Enough of Numair's gift had returned that he could pass on his strength to her. It was risky because he could make himself susceptible to any illness. But the tradeoff was that Daine would have more to fight with. That seemed to him a good bargain. He would need a focus – a lock of hair would do nicely. He checked outside to see if Alanna and George were asleep and they seemed to be. He took his silver knife from his mage kit. It was very sharp. He put a clean handkerchief in his pocket and took a full water skin with him. Daine probably needed water anyway and that way if Alanna came in to check, he had an excuse to be there.

He crossed to Daine's tent in the darkness without making a sound. He could hear George's snores in the other tent. He hoped that Alanna wouldn't wake. He crept in where Daine was sleeping. She looked to be very cold again. Her menagerie had grown and several skittish rabbits ran away when they saw him. He noticed that she now had a couple of voles in the mix and there were four bats dangling from the tent top. He wondered idly whether Perin would be okay with that, then scolded himself for hoping that it would scare Perin away.

He quietly trimmed a curl from the back of Daine's head. He didn't want her to notice it. He folded the chestnut curl into his handkerchief and tucked it in his pocket. Then he sat and pulled Daine into a semi-sitting position as he had done earlier. He slowly fed her water from the water skin. She seemed severely lighter than before and he was afraid for her. He knew Alanna would watch for how dehydrated she was, but it was still frightening to see.

He held her there for a minute and waited to see if she would awaken or say anything else. She mumbled something he couldn't hear and turned over, wrapping her arms around him. This left her in a strange and probably uncomfortable position and it was again, too provocative. He lay down and pushed himself lower, so her face would be more on his chest and he held her. He could only stay for a moment and promised himself not to fall asleep. He had magic to perform.

In her sleepy and delirious state she mumbled, "Why, Numair?"

He lowered his head enough to kiss her hair. "What are you dreaming, dear one?"

She didn't answer. She only snuggled deeper into him. He wondered if she had said his name because some part of her recognized him or if she was simply playing old memories. She was, at that moment replaying old memories.

He had given her a book of animal anatomy. It was the finest thing she had ever seen and she could hardly believe it was to be hers. She started to argue, but he insisted she take it saying, "You're a student mage. You need books like this to do your work. I'm your master. It' s my duty – in this case my pleasure – to give you whatever books and scrolls I believe you require to learn."

She had never asked why it was his pleasure to give her the book. "Why, Numair?" she asked now.

Bats clung to her hair and clothes as she walked in to see George. Kally was afraid at first but pretended not to be. Numair asked if he could hold one. She wondered if he really wanted a bat or if he was just being nice. He took one from her gently and studied it. He wasn't scared, he was fascinated. He's welcoming my friends, she thought with awe.

Numair stared with fear and wonder at the Krakken as it crushed the numerous boats in the water. He turned to Daine with a look of amazed respect, his full mouth slightly parted and his dark eyes searching her. He wouldn't run, she realized. He was going to stay with her even if she was mad or terrifying. "Friend of yours?" he asked quietly as if any friend of hers would be welcomed – again.

"It's no wonder I love you," she murmured in her sleep. He was sure she was speaking to Perin again and wondered what the clerk had done to earn that honor.

"Magelet, you're breaking my heart," he whispered to her, knowing full well she couldn't possibly hear or remember. "I need to go." He pulled himself away from her cautiously and she turned to huddle with her night visitors.

He stumbled back to his tent and sat in a meditative position, with the curl of hair in his palm. He focused what magic he had to send her his strength. It was a slow process that left him dizzy and listless. He collapsed and fell into a deep sleep.

Twice more in the night, he awoke and worked the same magic. Whatever strength and magic that renewed while he slept was poured into her until he felt he might not be able to stand again. After the last time, he could barely unfold himself to rest. The curl remained clutched in his hand.

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Alanna awoke just before dawn and went to check on her patient. She poured more healing magic into the girl and saw that Daine seemed to be recovering faster. Her strength was improved and an empty water skin showed that Numair had been by in the night. Alanna smiled to herself and probed further with her magic to find the traces of the fever and see if she could destroy them. What little was left of the fever was easy to eradicate. Daine would make a full recovery. But then Alanna noticed that black fire was threaded among the copper of Daine's inner self. Alanna looked with confusion trying to understand what she was seeing.

She thought back to all the studies of unusual magic. There was one in a book that Thom had left her … but surely Numair wouldn't be that stupid. She barely realized she had stood and raced across the darkness to his tent. He lay there very still. His skin was ghostly white and his glossy black hair now had one white streak. She knelt beside him and placed a hand on his chest. Then she cursed in a long stream that would have made George blush.

Numair partially opened his eyes and said weakly, "Alanna, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she repeated incredulously. "I should kick you until you can't move – except you already did that effectively to yourself."

"I'll rest and I'll be fine," he said, his speech was slightly slurred as if inebriated. It was frightening and he didn't seem to be able to grasp that.

"Was my healing not good enough for you?" she growled. She began to curse again, drawing George to the tent.

"What's goin' on in here, Lass?" George asked.

"Look at him," she said pointing as if she were stabbing at the air. "He's drained all his natural strength into Daine. How did you even have enough magic built up?" she roared.

He sighed heavily, remaining where he was mainly because he couldn't move. "I didn't at first. I sent a little and I rested and I sent a little more and I rested and I sent a little more."

George was not the biggest authority on magic, but even he was able to understand why Alanna was upset. The two of them cursed together for a moment, which to an observer was probably funny. Numair didn't laugh though. Alanna doubted if he could.

"Why would you do this?" Alanna interrogated.

He didn't answer right away, but she waited him out. "You said 'if only she had a little more strength'. So I gave her mine. I couldn't let her die."

"What if you died? Would you leave me to explain it to her?" Alanna's face was red with fury.

George sat down heavily. Alanna knew her husband enough to worry when he went silent. His mouth was set in a long white line and she knew he was biting his tongue.

"Surely you realize that I have more gift than that," Numair said as defiantly as possible for someone who could barely lift his head. "I'll rest and it will be restored. When she's fully recovered I will take back what is mine and she can live a full and happy life. If I hadn't been so cold to her she would never have let this illness get away from her. I owed her this much."

"That's all it was? Ye' owed her?" George asked, all but daring Numair to admit his feelings.

"That's all," he answered. "I'm glad she's alright."

George stared at Alanna with clear frustration on his face. "Ye' don't fancy the lass?" Alanna glared at her husband.

"Of course not," the mage answered as surely as if he had practiced. "Jon made me promise to care for her like she was my own child. Tell me you would not do this for your children."

Alanna cursed silently. It was just like Numair to have all the best arguments to skirt an issue.

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