4.22.02 - I made a little change in the middle, since I decided on some extra scenes I wanted to squeeze in later on which would have conflicted what was written here. If you're reading back and want to know exactly where the change is, it's in the paragraph beginning: "He didn't recognize the first tickle of premonition when he turned onto the mixed soup of gravel and dirty water..." I deleted about a line's worth of words near the end.
And wheee, I now have a color for the uniforms of the noble brats. ^_^ Thank you, sky, Megan, for dropping those notes.
Well...okay, I lied. With several of the largest projects on hold pending some key people making up their minds, I managed to get in more writing for the last few days than I did for any of the previous chapters. But I also flunked my first quiz (wheee!) so time to drag my head out of the skies and hit the books. ^_^
Megan - blinks innocently
Heh, you actually went and did the dreaded 'r' stuff (research -
pseudo, anyway). =P That deserved a little recognition, at least. ;)
ola - Ewwy. Hope you get better fast! (Though, then you don't have as many excuses to lounge in bed with hot chocolate anymore...) And thank you for going through the trouble of coming back to comment. =)
Swift Shadows - Thankye! And here it is!
Mrf...btw, I would really appreciate it if someone dropped me a note whenever/if I make a gaff (such as listing the wrong color for uniforms - btw, what was the color for the kids being sent to the collegium for schooling who weren't Chosen or Gifted or whatnot?). I don't happen to have any of the Valdemar novels in easy referencing distance, so I'm trying to dig things out of a swiss cheese memory as I go along. =)
The Words Between - part 6
Kyn was most definitely not in a good mood.
It could have been the rain. The skies had opened up in the middle of the night with an unusual downpour that, in a month or two, might come down as snow. But on this day, it had turned the collegium grounds into a quagmire, overcast the skies into twilight, and given everyone in general a sour mood, including Kyn, though for different reasons.
He had no complaint with rain, even found a peculiar fascination in the fall of water from the sky, but some change in the seasons or the air or maybe just the length of perceived daylight had given him a low-grade headache that had persisted throughout the day. It was only exacerbated by the invisible glue he seemed forced to wade through since the morning's waking, and the blatant reprimands two of his instructors had found the need to deliver in class when he had somehow drifted off with his eyes open. At least, he didn't remember actually closing them for longer than a blink. He couldn't recall much of the lectures, and the instructors had certainly noticed he wasn't paying a smidgen of attention to them. Even Sianni was avoiding him today, for which he could hardly blame her.
The constant tug and pull between Nadia and Master wasn't working. He was finding it harder and harder to look dumb and ignorant when she complained about the plateau his recovery seemed to have petered out on. Master, he was sure, knew about the efforts the healer was making to wean him away from the dependencies, and had subtly changed the mixtures each week, perhaps to counter the headway she was making. Or maybe he was being subtly punished for his recent lapse. In the end, Kyn found himself swinging back and forth between the two's tender care, and he was hard-pressed to remember just what 'normal' felt like anymore. Even though he wasn't due to meet Master for another week, and Nadia for another three days, he felt as if he was at least a handful of days past either appointment. By the end of his last lecture - one of two designed to beat Valdemaran history into his head through sheer force, he was convinced - he had decided that it would be more than judicious to visit the healer's workplace, using the weather as an excuse for his sorry state. He wasn't about to give her more fuel for her suspicions when she was already complaining constantly about his stubborn refusal to heal by her standards. And for all her faults, he had to admit that she knew her profession well.
He didn't recognize the first tickle of premonition when he turned onto the mixed soup of gravel and dirty water that comprised the path toward the Healer's Collegia, and attributed it to some stray drops that had managed to sneak down his neck. When he shook himself and rolled his shoulders in an effort to rub away the moisture and the sensation went away, he thought the problem solved - until the sound of voices nearby prompted another cold crawl of impending vision up his spine. Rebelling at the tantalizing half glimpses he was being given, he stopped in mid-stride, ignored the feel of water enveloping the lower inch of his boots, and stubbornly waited for the future to paint itself, all but daring it to show itself.
And waited. And waited. And continued waiting, until the creeping cold around his toes reminded him that standing out in the rain like a fool was not going to help.
When his Foresight refused to show itself any further, he snorted and angrily tugged the folds of his oiled raincloak, dislodging the pools of water that had begun to gather around his shoulders. How predictable, he snarled at the unresponsive Gift, stomping through his next few steps until the splashes began soaking into his lower pant legs and his head started to pound. The one thing I can depend on is how undependable you are, especially these days with those two playing tug-of-war over me.
"No, please...my mother made..."
"...awww, wouldn't want...can't have her baby all..."
"Hurry it...out of the rain..."
As Kyn continued toward the Healer's Collegia, he resolutely ignored the steadily increasing volume of the voices. He pretended not to notice the large group of students - mostly noble-born from the unaffiliated blue of their uniforms and their arrogant stances - encircling a small, muddied figure to his right, barely working at a pretense of concealing their activities in a corner made by a U-shaped lecture hall. Then again, they had less to fear today, with the weather keeping most sane people indoors, unless someone with the Gift of empathy happened to be in the area.
"Please! Why are you doing this? Just give it back! I'll give you all of my allowance for the next week - the next month, even! - if you'll just give that back to me..."
The whine grated. Kyn couldn't resist casting the boy crawling around in the mud a disgusted look, chasing after some brightly colored object being flung around the circle of mocking youths. When his Foresight tapped him on the shoulder again, he turned away quickly lest something else rouse it into a full-blown vision. Couldn't the boy see that he was just making his situation all the worse, begging like that?
As if to prove his unspoken point, the ringleader - obvious by his body language and the way the others all looked toward him, taking their cues from his actions - twirled the object of attention around a finger: a bright green cap, heavily embroidered, with a few bedraggled scarlet, cream, and brown-barred feathers sewn into one edge. "Oh, but I wouldn't want you wasting all your money when all you have to give up is this paltry little thing. What do you guys think?" he asked rhetorically as he plopped the soggy thing on his head, looking ridiculous with it dripping into one eye and striking a feminine pose, batting his eyes. "Is it my color?" he simpered to a round of hoots and catcalls. It was difficult to tell with the rain, but Kyn was sure the boy was in tears by now, staring forlornly at the bully.
"Oh, just get on with it, Stef," a voice called in calculatedly bored tones, out of place with its higher and sweeter register. Kyn actually stumbled as Foresight wouldn't be denied this time and hit him with the force of one of Alberich's swings when the weaponsmaster was driving home a lesson, snapping a bewildering series of indecipherable images and sensations through his mind before falling inexplicably quiescent again. If nothing else, he could be grateful for the sudden, searing clearness that was left in its wake, the fog that had filled his perceptions burned clean away as if he had woken for a second time that day. Gasping in a hasty breath, nearly choking as rain was caught along with air, he whipped his head around to the group again, searching...there.
Four figures stood apart from the ring, haughtily aloof. Three were fashionably slender, all unmistakably female, clad in the latest rage in raincloaks amongst the female population with means during this season, distinguishing themselves by that much when stymied by the collegium's uniforms. It was one female in particular that held Kyn's attention fast however, and he squinted as a pale, elegant hand appeared to twitch a fold of the oiled cloak smooth, trying to see more within the drawn-down hood than just the soft point of a chin and lightly rouged lips. In that glimpse before the hand retreated, a surprisingly simple band of platinum, wrought in some fanciful shape, gleamed even in the dim lighting where it encircled the forefinger. "I don't care what Madam Ben'Laria said, these cloaks aren't going to keep the damp out indefinitely," she spoke again, her voice every inch as commanding, arrogant, and condescending as the ringleader's. "I want to go inside. Now."
"Don't ruin my fun, Fei," Stef warned, the smile stiffening on his face as he watched his victim with the bored curiosity of a cat wondering if the mouse was really dead, or if it would twitch again with a few more bats of the paw. "The day's already miserable enough as it is. I've got to have something to liven it up since you've suddenly decided that I'm good enough to parade in front of your lackeys, but not good enough for your bed."
As hungry and responsive as a school of sharks, the group's attention wavered and began to refocus on the four lone figures, three of which shifted uneasily and took an unconscious step back, away from the one the ringleader had called Fei.
Unafraid, the girl sniffed audibly and pulled out a lock of hair a red so deep, it was almost the purplish burgundy of fine wine. Gently patting it into place at the edge of the hood's curve, she took her time before replying, "You know, that is just one amongst many examples of why I refused. Your father's cutthroat business tactics and the fortune he won from them might have bought you acceptance in society, but it will never make you anything but a boor."
Stef turned his head sharply, his play forgotten as he growled slowly, enunciating each syllable with dangerous precision, "What...did...you...say?" The cap slipped, bounced off a broad shoulder, then plopped wetly into the mud.
With a pained cry, the nearly forgotten boy dove for the article. Reminded of his presence, Stef and a fellow instigator brought the boy up short, hauling him squalling and wriggling up into the air like a blind worm dragged from its lair.
Rolling his eyes, Kyn washed his hands of the matter and turned away, for once looking forward to braving Nadia in her own territory.
"That I'm bored," Fei said loudly, as if repeating herself for a simpleton and making no effort to disguise her earlier words. "But..." she continued, a purr insinuating itself into her voice as she turned to look beyond, toward the trainee that had caught her attention with the flare of the cloak's hem when he had turned away, "I think it might have just become a little more interesting. Perhaps our little princess' white knight has finally shown up to rescue her?" She pitched her voice with magnificent precision, unmistakably directing the question toward Kyn.
He continued at his current pace, neither speeding up nor slowing down, ignoring her completely.
There was a laugh, deceptively bright, and Fei pitched her next words for all to hear. "And here we have a shining example of the Heraldic ideal! Leave the underprivileged and the downtrodden scrabbling in the dirt!"
The boy, having since ceased his struggling as useless, sniffled.
"It's none of my business," Kyn snapped without looking, knowing as soon as the last word left his mouth, even without the warning of Foresight, that he had done exactly the wrong thing in replying.
His ire at Fei forgotten in the face of potential new sport - or, perhaps, eager to avoid an increasingly embarrassing scene - Stef motioned sharply toward two youths with his head, smiling broadly as he watched them advance on Kyn. "We could make it your business."
"It would be in your best interests not to," Kyn warned - uselessly, he knew - as he was forced to stop and face them, but it would make his involvement look better to Alberich when the weaponsmaster found out about the altercation.
"Thanks for the warning," one of the youths closing in on him sneered. Both had thrown their hoods back long ago, their hair plastered into a thin cap on their skulls, unmindful of the weather as they began to reach out toward him, their stances sloppy in their hubris.
Recalling the un-Herald's lessons over the past few weeks, Kyn aimed for the bundle of nerves in the side of the neck rather than the vertebrae, and the youth who had spoken dropped like a sack of meal. He was bending down to make sure that his first victim was not only out cold but still breathing when the second youth recovered from his surprise and rushed him with a wordless roar.
Kyn was shorter than most of his age group, with far less mass than a boy his age should have accumulated by now. But he didn't let that fact bother him - had been unaware of it until Nadia pointed it out - and let the bully come to him, easily dodged the first and second swings, saw his opportunity just before the third one, and dispatched his opponent nearly as efficiently as his first one.
"I know you," came Stef's words in the ensuing silence. Kyn looked up, and realized when he had to blink the rainwater from his eyelashes that his hood had slipped back during one of his moves. "You're that kid who's always showing us up in class, thinking you know all the answers."
Kyn shrugged. "Which one?" he asked flatly, honestly not recalling which class the other youth was referring to. There was rarely anything outside of his immediate lessons that concerned him enough to devote attention to. Master only cared for the identities of the Heralds and other faculty, and any high-placed personages that might be visiting.
Flushing, Stef roughly shoved the boy toward his compatriot, letting the other, leaner youth stumble under the unexpected weight. "Oh, you'll remember well enough after this day..."
:Kyn?:
:What?:
:What's happening?:
He muttered a silent imprecation to himself as he swept one edge of the hindering cloak aside, gauging the rapidly closing distance between Stef and himself. He had practiced the techniques assiduously as soon as they had been taught to him, but sometimes in moments of intense concentration or stress, he still had a tendency to let his shields slip. It didn't help that Sianni was more sensitive to his moods than a hothouse orchid to cold. :Nothing.:
:I suppose 'nothing' has you tensed up as if you're about to face off Alberich again?:
:The un-Herald can stay out of this conversation,: he told her tartly as he lowered his stance, not about to make a fool of himself by letting overconfidence over the initial, easy wins trip him up. If he could make this look fast and easy, taking down the gang's ringleader may allow him to walk away instead of running. :If you don't mind, I'm about to be very busy in a moment.:
Sianni was still trying to get a word in edgewise when he slipped around the first punch, and then hastily threw himself aside at the unexpected elbow that flew toward his face. He felt a touch of vengeful satisfaction as he felt her shock at the image he had let slip down the link, and she contritely fell silent...at least, on his end. He had no doubt she was spreading the news fast and furiously that a brawl had started in the middle of the collegium grounds, which meant that he had to end this really fast if he didn't want Nadia, Melidee, or Dheeran - or even, the stars forbid, Alberich himself - bearing down on him posthaste.
Stef, for all his bluster and bravado, knew his way in a fight; a real one, rather than letting principles such as 'fairness' or 'honor' get in the way. He might have picked it up in strings of tavern brawls for all Kyn cared however; all that concerned the reluctant Trainee was that Stef was only interested in beating the snot out of him and had the experience to accomplish it if Kyn wasn't careful. The footing was made uncertain by dislodged detritus and slick mud, vision constantly being interfered with by the rain. But for all that, the familiar movements seemed to help clear Kyn's head even more, and almost, almost he was content enough to let the opening pass by when it presented itself. But he wasn't that big of a fool yet, drugs or no.
The bully relied too much on his constitution. Stef may be solid as an ox, as broad as a tree, and top most of the other boys by at least a head, but he still had all the basic weaknesses that anyone with a human body would have. Such as a solar plexus that, when hit in the right spot, helpfully forced the diaphragm up to expel what air was in the lungs while temporarily paralyzing the muscle, preventing another breath from being drawn immediately. Such as a nose that makes a very satisfying crunch when flattened across a face. Such as nerve endings that, when overtaxed, decide that enough was enough and shut the body down in self preservation.
Taking deep breaths to steady himself, Kyn slowly straightened as he observed the three bodies, contenting himself that all would be fine with a few days' bed rest. As he sniffed and rubbed an arm across his face to wipe off the worst of the rain, one figure approached while the others remained standing where they were, gawking.
"Bravo," Fei declared in dulcet tones as sweet as honeyed nightshade, her hands emerging from the cloak long enough to give three, measured claps before they flicked the water away with a practiced, elegant gesture and disappeared back within the garment's depths. "A new champion has emerged from the rough. I am Duke Aisner Se'Fannouel's daughter, Mennifei Arlien Se'Fannouel." She stopped, standing by the unconscious Stef's shoulder, close enough to touch if Kyn had so wished. "May I have the honor of your name?" she prompted after a moment of silence.
Kyn blinked rain from his eyes, and tilted his head. Though the hood still more than half shadowed her face, he received the strange impression that he already knew her, somehow. Her skin would be as flawless as the glimpses hinted at, her features sculpted as if by mortal intent rather than nature's chance. Her hair would be half-caught up in elaborate twists, held by silver combs and pins. Her eyes would be hazel, a shade so light that they would burn amber in the sunlight - and glitter with a cold malevolence that a snake would envy. It was she his Foresight had been warning him of, not Stef, nor any of the others. Hiding the thrill of mixed premonition and anticipation that shivered down his spine, he wiped back his hair and belatedly drew his hood over his dripping locks, rolling his dampened shoulders uncomfortably beneath the cloth. "No."
The perfect mouth dropped in an 'oh' of surprise as he turned away, intent on finally finishing his trip to the Healer's Collegia. For all that the others were unwittingly frozen in the same tableau as Fei, one, at least, managed to finally shake himself loose and quickly scamper to Kyn's side. Not before he grabbed the thoroughly soggy and mud-slicked cap, however.
"I-I can't believe you just did that!"
Kyn winced, throwing a dark look toward the too eager voice, not even breaking out of its higher registers yet. However, when he finally laid eyes on the chubby, baby-round face and its innocent blue eyes, surrounded by a mask of mud and mulch and potential bruises, he discovered that he had made yet another mistake in a long string of ones. According to his Foresight, this boy, whoever he was, was important as well. He was being slowly and steadily surrounded by Fate.
"Where are you going?" the boy continued to pipe irritatingly, seemingly blind to the fact that his cap was by now ruined as he tried to brush off the worst of the brown clots.
Kyn didn't reply, merely picked up his pace, even more eager to be away from the place on Sianni's unusually subdued note that people were on the way.
All in all, he was in a properly miserable mood by now. And if he had recognized the hero worship in the boy's eyes for what it was, it might have gotten even worse.
Nadia surveyed the twin, dripping messes that occupied one of the cots in the mostly deserted Healer's Hall, and looked very displeased. Kyn was on the verge of sympathizing...until she opened her mouth.
"You," she accused, removing one fist from where it had been planted on her hip to jab a finger at Kyn. "You're trying to make my life difficult, aren't you?"
Before he could do more than start to scrounge up a frown for her, Brin - who had introduced himself as Trader Cambrian Cygnet's son, along with a host of other uninteresting information - helpfully informed, "Oh, it wasn't his fault, madam! You see, there were these bullies, and - "
Nadia held up a hand with a slightly pained look, and Kyn was in danger of sympathizing again until he realized that Brin bothering Nadia meant Brin - or Nadia, for that matter - not bothering Kyn. Unfortunately, the healer had specific goals in mind and wasn't about to allow herself to be distracted. Sighing, she asked bluntly, "How many were maimed or killed?"
Kyn gave her a look of mixed hurt and disdain at her lack of confidence in his skills and Brin laughed uncertainly, looking as if he was wondering why they did not exactly act as if the question were a joke. "None," Kyn answered flatly, rubbing his ear when a wandering trickle of water from his hair began to itch. "Why don't you just take care of him and then shove him out the door?"
Nadia gave him a withering look while Brin looked crestfallen, and Kyn was further mystified when she alternated between disapproving glares for him and hopelessly sappy looks for the boy. "Don't mind him, Brin," she crooned, fetching a damp towel to wipe away the worst of the mud and looking over what damage had been done. "He's just a regular bastard with a lump of coal for a heart; let me fix you up so that you can get back to your room and be warm and dry as soon as possible." Brin sniffled and nodded and let her fuss over him while Kyn rolled his eyes.
Eventually, Nadia pronounced the boy fit to walk out on his own. Brin thanked her prettily, bowed to Kyn with a mumble of thanks and averted eyes, and left the healer's hall at a shuffle. As soon as the boy was out of earshot, the healer rounded on Kyn with a swiftness that made him wonder if the ability to switch moods instantly was another Gift that she possessed. "What sort of demon are you treating him like that! And there are far more tactful ways of getting someone to leave than that."
Kyn shrugged unconcernedly, checking on the dampness of his collar before sighing and letting the cloth settle again. "What would be the point? You can't discuss me in front of him, so he needed to leave. And how else am I supposed to treat him? I didn't ask for him to follow me."
"You know, that's just your problem. You just don't care about anyone or anything, do you?" Nadia continued to rant, though the words had taken on the tired feeling of something that had been worn into meaninglessness with repetition. Kyn let her go on, tuning her out with practiced ease and holding still as she laid her fingertips on his forehead.
As he was preparing to drop his shields, however, he belatedly realized that she had fallen silent, and looked up to see her giving him the most peculiar look he had yet seen on her face. "What?" he asked suspiciously.
"Your...your hair..." she mumbled, brows furrowing as she leaned over him to peer closer.
He reflexively leaned back the same distance, bracing a hand behind himself when he was in danger of toppling over. "What?" he repeated a little more waspishly, unconsciously pushing his chin out in belligerence as he tilted his head back to keep her from looking any closer.
"Hold still," she snapped, reaching out to tilt his head down again, brushing a hand through his mop to make it stand on end.
To better see the roots, he realized. He had forgotten about them.
"You're a redhead," Nadia finally breathed as he gave in and let her stare as much as she wished.
"So?" he muttered, self consciously hunching his shoulders and shrinking away from her after she had had her fill of gawking.
"I..." Nadia closed her mouth with an audible click of teeth and tried to shrug nonchalantly. "Nothing. I mean...I guess it shouldn't be that big a surprise, with your complexion and those freckles...I just never thought that it might...I just never thought it actually was different. Why did you dye it?"
"Because Master told me to."
She stared at him. He stared back. Finally, she folded her arms and grumped, "Your standard stock answer. Can't you think of anything more imaginative than that?"
"It works, doesn't it?" he shot back.
Rolling her eyes ceilingward, she dropped the subject and peremptorily laid her fingers on his forehead again. "Shields, please," she muttered. Little more than a formality, considering the thinness of them, but it was a courtesy along with various others that the Heralds indulged in at every turn.
Smirking, he dropped them. The smirk faded as time passed though, and when he found himself glancing toward the nearest candle for the second time to check on its length, he finally asked, "What's wrong?"
Nadia started, as if she had just been woken up from a light doze, but the accusation died on his lips as she took a step back and looked down at him with a small frown of worry. "I don't know," she admitted.
"You...don't know," he echoed back flatly.
She shook her head, not noticing or not caring about the sarcasm lacing his words. "No. Every time I see you now, you're different - your body's different. Not completely of course, but just enough that I'm growing...a little concerned."
His eyes narrowed. "Different how? Concerned how?"
She shook her head as she wandered to one of several tables and cabinets scattered throughout the hall, 'stations' that contained necessities for general examinations and prescriptions. "Well, everyone has a base template, but within certain limits, it can vary. A person will feel different to me, for instance, if they're exhausted or sick than when they are in perfect shape and health. You're still within those limits, but you're swinging between different states far too much. You're young, so your resilience is pretty high. But you can't keep going on like this. It's still three or four days before you're supposed to officially check in with me, isn't it?"
"I just had a headache today," he muttered the excuse, looking pointedly at one of the gloom-clouded windows. "The weather must be affecting me."
There were clinks of glazed pottery and rustles of paper packets as she sorted expertly through the supplies. "It's as if your body's still trying to find its balance, but all it ends up doing is seesawing more and more out of synch."
And he knew exactly why. So, the only remaining concern is... "What are the long term consequences if this continues?"
She turned a quick frown on him, her hands momentarily stilling. "Kyn, you can't continue like this."
He met her gaze levelly. "What if it does?"
She leaned a hip against the table's edge, hand flattening on its surface. "You don't understand, Kyn. I said can't. It could lead to permanent damage...or worse."
"Why? What's different now? I thought you said I've been practically raised on these substances."
She shook her head in frustration. "I know what I said! But I've never encountered or heard of such a long-term case as this - what should have happened was that you would continue to experience the symptoms of withdrawal for a while, but you'd eventually find an equilibrium again. It was dangerous for the first few weeks, stopping cold like that, but I helped with the rough spots and you should have eventually been able to work it out on your own. But you're not. It's as if..." She paused in mid-syllable, and her expression became suddenly, ominously blank. "It's as if you were still being drugged," she finished after the pause.
He didn't respond, running through a myriad of likely explanations, and finding nothing that would satisfy himself, much less her.
"That's it, isn't it?" she spat, anger suffusing her face. Kyn found himself distantly realizing that, for all her bluster, he had never seen her truly furious until now. "You're still hooked on them! Where are you getting them?" she hissed, the relatively public area the only thing keeping her voice down as she advanced, making him lean back to keep their gazes locked. "I'd pitied you at first, thinking what sort of monster would be so desperate to maintain their grasp on someone that they would willingly addict a child to substances like that, but if I find out you've been willingly - "
Enough was enough. He clapped one hand over her mouth, the other snaking around to the back of her neck and locking her in that position - and tightening his grip just enough to let her now in just how vulnerable a position she was in right now. "I do not need your pity," he said softly, his own ire kindled as he glared into her wide eyes. "And any arrangements I am involved in are none of your concern." Then he released her.
She stumbled back, two spots of color sitting high on her pale cheeks. "I can't believe a Companion would Choose someone like you," she whispered.
Something inside him tightened into a hard knot. "Don't drag Sianni into this."
"Why?" Her initial fright pushed aside by unreasoning spite, she continued in an increasingly shrill voice, "Could it be that you actually care what she thinks of all this? Stars above, does she even know what's going on?!"
How could he explain it to her? That Master was - had been - everything. And now they were asking him to throw it all away, to cast his lot with strangers? Strangers he had wronged? On the say-so of a horse? A horse who was so inexplicably, impossibly generous that he was sometimes afraid of touching her for fear of dispelling the dream? Sianni was something wholly outside of his experience, and he might have accepted the unconditional altruism and kindness - and yes, love - from her and not the Heralds because she wasn't human. She was allowed to be perfect.
Except that he was Master's creature. He would do anything in the world to keep her apart from him, even if it meant he could only dream of what could have been.
"How can you do it?"
He blinked, abruptly realizing that he had never replied, merely stared blankly at her, and in that time the healer's own expression had softened into puzzlement as she calmed. "I beg your pardon?"
Nadia waved a hand vaguely. "Cut her off like that. I've been in the collegium for nearly half my life; I know what it's like between a Herald and their Companion. I envied such a bond as they have..." The slight tremble in her voice made Kyn wonder for how long she had been jealous of the Heralds, and when she had finally accepted it. He wondered if her lifebond had been the only thing to ease the ache of want. "But you...how can you find it in yourself to reject something like that? To keep her out...and how could she let you do so?"
He abruptly stood, slinging up his raincloak at the same time and giving it an extra shake to fling off the remaining water that had not dried. "If you don't mind, I have some studying to do," he said stiffly. "And from what I'm getting from Sianni, someone wants to talk to me about the fight."
Nadia's face clouded, and she looked ready to push the issue until he fastened the cloak at his neck, threatening to leave - with or without the medicines. Jaw and fists tightening, the healer told him curtly to wait and finished extracting and mixing herbs, handing the packets to him while relating instructions in terse sentences.
Turning as soon as he had everything - he wasn't about to give her another chance to start prying at him with her curiosity again - he still felt compelled to say quietly, "I would appreciate it if you would not mention anything about my condition to anyone. Including Sianni."
He could all but feel the waves of frustration rolling off of her and beating against his back. "Why should I? It's not as if you've managed to make me like you enough to do you any favors."
He turned just enough to give her an acerbic smile. "Put some of that healer's empathy to work, or whatever pity you have left. It doesn't matter. But if I remember correctly, there's still something going on out there that has even Alberich nervous - and it seems Master and myself are your most direct links."
Her nostrils flared as her control was tightened another notch toward the snapping point. "How dare you. You would use the queen's life as a bargaining chip for the sake of keeping your addiction a secret?"
His smile faltered before growing even colder. "If that's how you wish to see it. But if you cut off the only hold Master has over me, then you lose your hold on him. If he doesn't arrange for me to be killed outright, he most definitely will not have anything more to do with someone he can't control. Then, you will be left with nothing to help your precious queen." Breaking their locked gazes, he hurried for the door, discontent at how the conversation had gone and the thoughts that had been dragged up because of it making him tremble enough that he was afraid he might be detained further, by either Nadia or another well-meaning healer.
"Mennifei."
There was an odd note to Master's voice when he pronounced the name, as if he both detested and delighted in the syllables. Kyn shifted uncomfortably, but remained silent as he waited for the man to regather his thoughts from memories.
A short, self-deprecating chuckle, and Master beckoned. Reluctantly, Kyn leaned closer, taking shallow breaths in an attempt to keep most of the curling smoke floating between them from entering his lungs. But it was hard. Not only because of its proximity, but because he craved it, felt the need almost as a physical pain. Something which he was sure Master knew - and counted on.
"Keep an eye on the girl," Master said, in confidential tones and a gleeful half-smile twisting the untouched side of his face. "Watch who she's with, what she does, learn how she thinks. But most of all...watch for her father, the duke."
The duke. Kyn shivered at the sound of the two words, a vague dread creeping into the hollow pit his stomach had become. "How do you know that the duke will come?"
"Oh, he will," Master chuckled again mirthlessly. Gathering himself, he prepared to leave, not bothering to explain himself and confident that Kyn would question him no further. "Oh, one more thing..."
Kyn stiffened at the too deliberately nonchalant tone, the beginnings of a tension headache rapidly advancing to full-blown migraine. "Yes, Master?" he tried to reply just as casually.
The man took his time, rising to his feet and rearranging the rags cleanly about him before the hooded outline of his head turned down to eye him. "How are you feeling these days?"
Kyn flinched as if he had been slapped, eyes flicking up reflexively toward the hood's opening before falling quickly down to the ground again. "I...I am...enduring."
A soft, wheezing laugh, and the cane was brought up carefully to turn his head gently to one side and then the other. "At least you have not forgotten that much. I can objectively admire a half-truth, but I will not tolerate outright lies." A beat to let the words sink in, and then he asked carefully, "Does the healer know? You're not reacting as you should."
Closing his eyes, Kyn sighed. Of course, if Nadia had found out about Master, then it would only balance things to have Master confront him about the healer in the same week. "She...knows I'm being supplied with...something."
A moment to let his words sink in, and then the hood dipped in a nod. "Suggest to her that she will only do more harm than good by interfering. This is not something that she can just 'fix'. I cannot have you hampered or otherwise incapacitated by her fumbling about."
Kyn bowed his head in a half-nod, accepting the order, and was surprised to find that a small part of himself felt disappointed that things were returning to their original order. That he would soon be, once again, firmly under Master's sway. As his head remained lowered, Master seemed to be satisfied by the unspoken assent, and the tap of the cane soon faded away. Numbly, Kyn counted twenty heartbeats more before he slowly tipped the bowl over, stood, and ground out the remaining embers with his heel. Taking a deep breath, he looked around, and then wandered back to the alley's mouth. One hand grazed dirt-streaked walls as he walked, helping him maintain a balance that always seemed at its worst immediately after his sessions with Master. Pausing and blinking at the brighter, unobstructed light gracing the main throughway, he measured the time by the sun's angle and then began the shuffle back to the collegium.
His report had been longer than usual, what with the recent incident concerning the noble youths, and Master had been especially interested in Fei and Stef and their relationship to each other. Kyn's absence might very well be noted by his unofficial guards this time, but he couldn't dredge up enough concern to care. He had managed to strike a balance between everything and everyone; it was one that was dangerously precarious, but as of this moment, he was safe, so long as nothing else entered to upset it. The Heralds could not move against him or Master. Master still needed him and seemed willing to put the past behind so long as he remained vigilant. He might have enough leverage with Nadia to finally get the awful fight over who owned his body to be suspended without endangering Master's position further -
"Kyn!"
His head whipped up at the sound of his name, called out in a horrifyingly familiar voice. Wavering, he passed a hand over his eyes as if what he was seeing was a vision he could wipe away. How in the world had Brin found him? And why?
The boy was dodging through the steady stream of shoppers and pedestrians with awkward grace, what looked like a half-eaten meat bun dripping juices over one hand and a clumsily wrapped sweet bun in the other. The vague thought that he might be able to pretend he hadn't heard the boy's call and duck out of sight was soon banished when Brin looked unerringly toward him, catching his eye and smiling broadly. "Kyn!" he called again as if there wasn't only a dozen feet separating them, and Kyn straightened, bracing himself.
"What?" he asked in the most unfriendly tone he could muster when the boy slowed to a stop, and had the dubious satisfaction of seeing Brin withering before his expression almost immediately.
"I, uhm," he stammered, ducking his head and shuffling his feet before mutely shoving the sweet bun toward Kyn.
Kyn looked down at the dessert and blinked.
"Y-you haven't eaten yet, have you?" Brin mumbled, shifting his weight yet again until Kyn wanted to just reach out and hold him still. "I mean, not that I've been spying or anything, but I've taken peeks and I know you don't always remember to take care of yourself and today you didn't go by the kitchens or even by any of the - "
Kyn's eyes widened and he placed a fingertip over the boy's lips, silencing the babble. "Spying?" he asked quietly. "Peeks? How long have you observed me?" Why hadn't he noticed the boy following? Was he slipping that badly?
The tips of Brin's ears flushed red as he ducked his head even lower, shoulders hunching until Kyn could have sworn they were nearly level with the top of his hair. "Well, s'only...couldn't quite...practice...y'see..." he mumbled.
Kyn leaned close and commanded softly, "Repeat yourself. Clearly."
Brin squirmed, huffed a sigh, and relaxed just enough to mumble a little louder, "It's only been the last three days, and it was only a few seconds at a time while you were outside, but...well, the teachers said I needed extra practice with my Gift anyway."
"And what, exactly, is your Gift."
Brin glanced up at Kyn through a straight-cut forelock of wheat-colored hair, round as a bowl, and quickly looked down again. "Farsight."
Kyn slowly straightened, feeling a vague relief that he hadn't failed to notice the boy because Brin had been nowhere near him when he had been 'spying', but also a growing alarm at the implications of what he had been doing. "How were you able to find me with your Farsight? I thought you needed a focus."
"I...I kind of do. I mean...well, ever since you took down that big bully Stef...I really admire you."
Kyn closed his eyes. "How long ago was the last time you...'peeked'."
Brin's brow furrowed before he looked up with innocent blue eyes and said, "I think...less than half a candlemark ago. When you were talking to that beggar."
Chilled, Kyn's eyes snapped open and he abruptly took a hold of the boy's elbow, ignoring Brin's startled yelp of mixed pain and surprise at the harshness of his grip, dragging the boy bodily after him as he began to make his way back to the collegium.
"W-where are you going?" Brin asked with a tremor of belated worry, juggling his hold on the buns until he had a firmer grasp at the cost of sticky fingers.
"We are going to have a private chat," Kyn said, answering the question obliquely as they passed through the less populated walks around the residences surrounding the collegium's immediate area.
"Uhm...you can let go of me now, you know. I'm pretty sure I can keep up."
Kyn ignored him completely this time, waiting until they were up to the wall and past the gate, the guard giving them a long, curious look but letting them pass without comment. It wasn't until they were well into one of the many copses dotting the grounds that he finally let the boy go. Huffing, Brin straightened his shirt out as best he could with both hands full, gazing down sadly at the somewhat squashed remains of the meat bun. "What do you think you know," Kyn started without preamble, eyes constantly roving the area, an itch starting between his shoulder blades as he wondered who else could watch him without his knowing. An uneasy suspicion was starting in the back of his mind as to whether this was how Master had always kept an eye on him when he was away on assignment.
Brin took his time, examining the sticky trails of sugar and sauce smeared over his hands, before shrugging slightly. "That I'm probably in big trouble," he finally mumbled.
In spite of himself, Kyn couldn't help the small tug at the corners of his mouth as he turned to look over the boy closely for once. The boy was - cherubic. It was the first and only word that he could find to describe Brin. With his round, sweet face and guileless expression - no wonder Stef and the others had found it irresistible to tease him. And, perhaps, Kyn could forgive Nadia for being so doting over him. Personally, though, he didn't think he would have been able to stand looking at himself in the mirror if he had looked like Brin. He looked...so naive. Sighing, Kyn scrubbed his face with a hand. "Why in the world did you decide to attach yourself to me?" he ground out half-rhetorically.
"Because you stood up for me," Brin said brightly, and Kyn was more than a little disturbed by the gleam in the boy's eyes when he said that.
"I was defending myself, not standing up for you," he pointed out dryly.
Brin shrugged, clearly unconcerned with the details. "You knocked those bullies flat in the space of a few marks."
"I'm not going to be your personal protector."
"I'm not looking for one."
Kyn scowled, eyeing the boy suspiciously. "So, just what are you looking for?"
Brin peered at him as if he was the one who was speaking nonsense. "You...really don't know."
Kyn's smile was frigid. "Humor me."
Second and third thoughts were chasing themselves across his face before Brin straightened, resolve firming along with his beaming grin. "I'm looking for a friend."
A friend. The boy wanted to be friends. In his current circumstances, the concept was so inconceivable on so many levels, that he nearly laughed aloud. As he tried to absorb that statement, the silence lengthened, enough that Brin began to look worried and started shuffling his feet again. Kyn finally took pity on him and, remembering Nadia's admonishments, tried to say as gently as he could, "Look. You don't want to be my friend."
"Why?" immediately came the question, all huge blue eyes and hopelessly earnest look.
Kyn gritted his teeth. Did the boy have no sense of self-preservation at all? "Because things happen around me! You thought those nobles teasing you was bad? I'm involved in far, far worse. You might as well throw your lot in with Stef - and I, of all people, should know. One of my Gifts is Foresight."
Brin nodded, looking anything but fearful. "Of course. You're doing some sort of undercover stuff, right? Like in the stories."
He just barely kept from gaping at the boy. Like the stories? Was he after the adventure? "You're crazy," he growled, advancing on Brin. His irritation rose another notch as the boy calmly backed up a step, but looked not at all cowed, faith shining in his face. "You could get yourself killed or worse! You think everything has a happy ending?"
"I know," Brin said in unusually subdued tones, meeting Kyn's angry glare unabashedly. "But I'm going to be a Herald. And that's what Heralds do; put their lives before others. So that other people can have happy endings."
Kyn's hands clenched.
Brin tilted his head in curiosity. "And if you're in the middle of it, isn't it dangerous for you too?"
"It's different," Kyn muttered, most of his bluster deflated by Brin's previous statements though he had yet to fully digest what they all meant to him. Turning away, he made a pretense of checking the position of the sun through the fine net of mostly denuded branches, only a few hardy, shriveled leaves left clinging to them. The holly would be taking over in the manse's garden by now, along with what other evergreen plants that grew there. "I don't have a choice."
"You just think you don't."
Kyn snorted, narrowed eyes sliding toward the boy. "So you've suddenly become the philosophist? How old are you anyway?"
A stubborn look of indignation momentarily firmed Brin's chin. "Fourteen. And I don't see what that has to do with anything. I'm offering my friendship, and my help. If you don't want either, that's your business. But you can't keep me from trying to return the favor you did for me the other day."
Kyn shook his head. "You still don't understand, do you? I did you no favor - either perceived or intentionally. What I have done for you is made sure your life gets very, very interesting - in a way that sane people would run far away from. But only if you decide to persist in this madness." Turning in dismissal, he strode quickly in the hopes of leaving the boy behind to stew in his own thoughts.
But Brin pursued, and his steps pattered softly through the grass just behind Kyn's, unshaken. "Well, things were pretty boring before anyway, and I've still got this extra sweet bun...oh, and in case you wanted to know, I actually managed to salvage the cap, though the feathers had to be thrown away. I couldn't do anything about those, but my mother said she could send those right away and when I sew them in, it'll be good as new again - oh, and mother also said - "
Kyn wondered where his premonition was these days as Brin continued chattering one-sided. It hadn't warned him about this.