To my dear grandmother, who left us on the evening of Tuesday, May 28th, 2002. While sometimes infuriating - as only those who know you best can be - and stubbornly anchored in the standards of a world two generations away, she was also a woman of unbelievable generosity, who believed all her grandchildren were the brightest and the most beautiful, and who wielded a startling turn of phrase that could send even the most stoic into gales of laughter while she blinked all too innocently back.

While I am unable to tell her story here, let it be known that she was loved, and that she will be missed.

DAY ONE

He might have slept. Kyn wasn't sure, because the garden was always awash in sunlight, the pond always cast in darkness, and there was nothing to judge time by but for the occasional surfacings he made to keep in touch with what happened out there. However, there was a distinct 'blank' period that might have been the unconsciousness associated with slumber - or shock - in which he could account for nothing but for the fact that time had, apparently, passed without his knowing. It occurred to him that he wasn't as nonchalant about recent events as he would like to think he was, especially when the blank periods were usually rudely shattered by his own flailing about, sweeping aside imagined shadows that had grown inexplicable eyes and intelligences, but which dispersed along with his dreams as soon as he realized where he was. No, he had to admit to himself that the duke's probings had frightened him to a degree that he had yet to grasp fully, perhaps damaged him in some subtle way, and he wasn't sure if it would be better to confront it now or to let it lie to assimilate on its own. Neither option sounded enticing for various reasons.

Melidee had arrived as threatened, sometime during that blank period when he had, perhaps, dived too incautiously and too deeply. He received the strong impression of her presence, that peculiar 'flavor' that was associated with her mental speech, but he remembered no specifics and nothing short of Alberich himself could have piqued his interest enough to rouse himself further - and the un-Herald had declined to make an appearance, despite the newly acquired resolution to turn Kyn inside out for the answers. So Kyn had indulged in his moment of non-thought while he had the chance, all but wallowed in the lack of sensation, worry, and fear, until the only thing reminding him that he existed at all was the occasional nightmare or future-glimpse.

Mid-morning had brought a new level of lucidity along with breakfast and this time, the sure sign of Melidee's presence came in carefully cheerful words and a casual equivalent of a mental 'knock' to see if anyone was home and answering. Kyn didn't bother to even throw out a metaphorical door mat for her, and let his body run on automatic as it was taken care of, returning to his little pocket beneath the ice.

The duke had known Master. The Master had known the duke, had not only known, but attempted to kill him on several occasions, and been thwarted thus far.

Se'Fannouel had recognized Kyn, as the son or grandson or some other form of offspring of a man known by both him and Master. Kyn marked that thought as pure speculation and carefully shelved it for later. Or better yet, never.

Se'Fannouel knew the same arts as Master. Oh, not that the circles didn't give it away, but the future was a chancy thing at best; one never knew how far ahead it lay, though Kyn's visions tended to be in the relative short-term, sometimes venturing no farther than a handful of hours or even minutes ahead. Se'Fannouel might not have known how to use the circles or other magics right now, but that little trick of getting into Kyn's mind was a dead giveaway he knew at least the rudimentaries. More than the rudimentaries. Master had never practiced anything like it, but Kyn recognized the ritual gestures, the glyphs and sigils weighted with the history of a centuries-long art. He had heard the same guiding cadence of syllables uttered, the framework upon which draped the worker's intent and gave it form, though the sounds and their placement themselves were unfamiliar. He had seen that particular sorcery worked before - had had it worked on him by Master, and had seen Master perform it on other things as well as on other men.

And Se'Fannouel knew the same drugs, or something similar enough that Kyn's body had not heeded the difference, drugs that Master had regularly given him, had so saturated his body with that they became as natural and needed as oxygen and nourishment. Leaves charred in an unnatural, nonexistent flame...pods broken and crushed...bark stripped and twigs snapped, the mixture thrust beneath his nose so that their thick, chalky scents could not be avoided. The most telling point had been Nadia's words: How did he receive his dosage then? I haven't sensed the need in him, as if he'd only just taken -

- as if he had actually seen his Master, and only just taken the heady concoction that was always prepared. Kyn wondered and worried at that fact, chewed the thought until it became something almost unrecognizable.

It implied that Master and Se'Fannouel had been close before, close enough that their methods paralleled each other's. It would be chillingly logical, if the years of planning aimed toward the one goal of the duke's death was to be believed - the hatred that arose from a betrayed trust was the bitterest kind.

Yet another thought skittered about the peripheries of Kyn's mind, and with some reluctance, he let it take what shape it may, though it refused to coalesce into anything more than an amorphous hunch. Se'Fannouel may have used a similar mixture, but his purpose had undoubtedly been something other than Master's. Master gave him the drugs to guarantee his loyalty - didn't he? And Se'Fannouel...why had he used them? Did he think to bind Kyn to him as Kyn was bound to Master? Or was it some sort of mark, a door for something else, just as he had used Kyn's blood to somehow grant him access to his memories? And if that was its true purpose...what sort of accessway did Master have through him?

Kyn shivered, felt the ice creeping down, and forced himself deeper until the stark, terrified numbness had subsided into the mere womb-like feel of absent sensations.

Another meal came, and with it was brought another visitor. This one strolled through the garden, pausing here and there to examine some detail, and only after a circuitous tour paused by the pond's edge. Tap-tap-tap.

She was knocking. And he had managed to learn the reflex of answering enough that he found himself just beneath the ice, rather than deep within the waterless depths. Frowning at himself, he tucked his hands close, waiting to see if she would insist by knocking once again.

But she didn't knock, and she didn't go away, and finally his curiosity overcame his good sense and the ice melted away.

Sianni peered down at him from where she was lying on a particularly lush mat of mosses, and noted, :Do you know how ridiculous it looks for you to be down there? Not to mention I keep wanting to jump in and save you from drowning.:

Kyn barely refrained from throwing back the childish response of 'Nobody asked you' and stayed exactly where he was. He had to admit the perspective was a little strange, but with a little imagination, it was no more different than standing on the other side of a very large window, the glass only visible as an occasional glimmer when the light struck it right. And, of course, there was the fact that he was either oriented horizontally relative to the garden, or he had to crane his head back to see out; the only drawback to his position, since that sort of posture always implied a weaker stance. "You'll be happy to know that I don't need any saving, then," he responded instead, careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible. While he had nothing against Sianni, he still didn't know what her motives were, and more than suspected that they involved Alberich.

:You could have fooled me,: Sianni said, leaning down until her nose nearly touched the water's surface just above him, but venturing no farther. :I swear, if I wasn't already white...you seem to go out of your way to frighten me into an early grave.:

"I don't do it on purpose," he retorted, sounding less emphatic and far more petulant than he had intended.

:I know,: Sianni reassured softly, lazily blinking lambent eyes. :And I'm not here because Alberich asked me to talk to you. He isn't even on the palace grounds right now.:

Really. How interesting. He wondered if, now distracted, the un-Herald would forget about his promise to pry Kyn out upon returning. "And you are volunteering this because...?"

:Because I want you to know that I have no ulterior motives beyond wishing to see you again. I've missed you.:

Kyn scowled at her, turning his head slightly but gaze remaining locked on the impossible equine. Being missed was an alien concept, different from being needed for a task only he could perform. It implied all sorts of complicated and befuddling relationships beyond the utilitarian, a responsibility to feed someone's craving for one's presence. It was a debt that he didn't seek, and one that he could never repay in full, and what sort of retribution would the fates eventually demand for such a balance that would ever fall out of his favor? "If you missed me so much, you could have just dropped in."

Somehow managing to look affronted on a face not exactly conducive toward expressions, she claimed sharply, :I would never barge in uninvited. As long as you were out of immediate danger, I could wait for when you were ready to emerge again.:

So. Perhaps even the ice couldn't have held her off if she had truly been intent on reaching him. Which also implied something about the strength of the duke's spell, that he had managed to separate them when Kyn's own attempts at blocking Sianni had only met with lukewarm success.

In the next heartbeat, he found himself sitting on the bank next to her, and she seemed far less surprised than he felt at suddenly finding himself there, a trust that he hadn't consciously acknowledged placing him by her side. Turning calmly, she stretched her neck out and tilted her head just so, inviting him to scratch the most itch-prone spot just behind her right ear, beneath the fall of mane. "You have been...unusually patient with me." Patient, when Master would never have tolerated even hints of this sort of belligerence, much less allowed it to continue for as long as it had.

:It is not outside the bounds of reason. And that patience has paid off, hasn't it?: Sianni uttered a sigh of pleasure as his fingers worked beneath her mane, scritching.

He didn't answer, instead, allowing enough time to pass to indicate an end to the current topic before he asked, "Where is Alberich? Why isn't he here?"

:He is investigating another branch in the investigations that was recently unearthed. He will be absent for the next day or two.:

He hitched one brow upwards. "Very convenient."

She shifted to look at him, her tone studiously innocent. :Isn't it? But even I couldn't arrange for clues to pop up at convenient intervals, even if I had wanted to. I would like nothing more than for this entire incident to be over with, so that we can concentrate on other, more important things.:

Kyn frowned suspiciously. "Such as?"

:Such as yourself.:

He shoved her head away, at which she gave a little whicker of laughter. Taking the opportunity to stand, he looked over his shoulder to examine the garden's nearest edge, just the barest glimpse of stonework through dried and wilted vegetation, huddled against the impending season's chill. Someone else had come into the room, which meant that if he didn't want to be caught out, he should step back into the pond soon. "Why are you so loyal to them? Alberich has a job to do if he wants to be paid and eat, but you? What do you need from them?"

The impression of a frown drifted across the bond, and Sianni heaved herself to her feet as well, giving herself a good shake to shed any detritus that would have dared to cling to her in the short time. :Alberich performs his duties for the same reasons I do, for the same reason all Heralds do. Not out of necessity, or greed. We simply think that Valdemar is worth protecting, worth fighting for. Valdemar, its ideas, and its people.:

"A nation ruled by altruists?" he asked skeptically, stepping to the pond's edge, looking down to see himself staring back at him. His hair was getting shaggier, and he really should re-dye it, if he didn't want to draw undue attention to himself. Master always lectured that mediocrity was the most desired trait for someone charged with the kinds of tasks he was. "But I suppose if everyone is chosen by a god-designated 'companion', you'd be able to filter out all the bad apples like no other administration can." His eyes shifted away from his reflection uncomfortably, not quite willing to touch upon the subject of what that implied about him and his loyalties quite yet. "What makes Valdemar so special?" He crouched down, one hand dipping into the pond as he looked at her over his shoulder. "Why were you given to Valdemar? Why make it easier for them than anyone else in the world?"

Sianni tilted her head with a mixture of bemusement and concern. :Valdemar does not have it 'easier' than anyone else. Heralds are as likely to fall in the line of duty as any other man or woman in the career of protecting others. I would daresay Heralds are at more risk, for when there is a crisis, the people tend to look to the Herald for miracles rather than the guard or themselves. They are expected to throw themselves headlong into impossible odds, and that sort of expectation - held either by the Heralds themselves or the bystanders - can cut both ways.:

He felt the brush of fingertips across his forehead, and before Melidee's hesitant probe could sweep through his surface thoughts, he slipped beneath the waters. He glimpsed Sianni's form waver and vanish like a mirage. :But why do the Valdemarans get the luxury of knowing they are right? Why can they struggle and know that the results will be looked upon favorably by their god every step of the way, while others flail about hoping they will not be blasted for their efforts?: The ice crept in from the pond's edges in a slow crackle of milky translucence, a closing collar of shadow that had him momentarily frozen in uncertainty before he forcibly banished the paranoia.

:Heralds face as much uncertainty as anyone else. We are merely guides, and companions as our name suggests, not gods ourselves. And not just Valdemarans are thus 'privileged'...Alberich is a prime example of others receiving the dubious honor of being Chosen for Valdemar's service.:

Alberich. Torn from everything he knew by a force he couldn't combat. Made into a hated enemy of his people. A traitor in every sense, as he trained those who would eventually meet his homeland's troops and agents in battle.

Kyn shifted uneasily, and sank down into the pond's depths as the hole in the ice above him shrank and then disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~

He dreamed of shadows that night. Shadows, teeth and eyes, circles within circles...and griffins. No, one griffin...and a fox. Brown and gold, scarlet on white. Oddly enough, the nightmares had become almost comforting in their regularity. It was the break in pattern that unsettled him - or so he told himself when he came to himself with a start afterwards, the ice thicker than it had been when he had fallen asleep, himself curled far beneath, with the curiously flat silhouettes of the two animals cavorting before his mind's eye. It was almost as if they were drawings given life, with no depth, no third dimension.

They had danced together, the griffin and the fox, or so it had seemed - playful as puppies and gentle as kittens. But as he had neared, and the details grew curiously sharper even as shadows obscured them, he saw that they were tearing at each other instead.

Little pieces were bitten and clawed and shredded away, until all that eventually remained were a few dull threads, fluttering listlessly in the darkness.

My dearest apologies to those who have reviewed since my last posting; I promise I will take the time in the posting of the next part to make personal replies to you all. I am just afraid that I will not be able to give it the attention you deserve right now.

Hopefully the rest of this chapter will not be too long in coming (at least 40% of it is already written, in haphazard scraps and pieces). I just wanted to reassure those who have checked back or reviewed that you had not done so in vain. =)