AN: Oh dear... I'm in quite a spot of trouble, aren't I? Before you throw those rotten tomatoes you've been saving for, oh, more than a month, I apologize... and tell you I will have another chapter tomorrow, and maybe one for the day after that. I won't promise, because if I promise anything ever again on ffn, I have a feeling I will be pelted with stale carrots. Thanks to my reviewers, who were patient with me last time and might have possibly been patient this time... hopefully?

Chapter 12

Old Friends

Rikash swallowed heavily as the unmistakable immortal smiled, his white teeth shining with a sharp, feral gleam, his eyes bright with a contained, wild excitement.

"I am surprised to see you here," the Gotzane admitted, as though he spoke to a confidant, and Rikash frowned, instinctively pulling away; the Gotzane's iron grip kept him from recoiling completely. "But this proves your existence is no coincidence," he added, drawing closer as he looked up into Rikash's bewildered eyes. How did Tezock know him? The fire mage felt numb to everything except those cold fingers that clutched him, as though they could absorb his spark of vitality if they gripped tightly enough. "We will speak soon," he promised quietly. Held in a stunned stupor by the immortal's fervent, dominating presence, Rikash did not notice Tezock had released him until the creature backed away with a deep nod and disappeared among the throngs. He inhaled shakily, then glanced around, hoping Deryne had not moved. He thanked Yama when he saw that she was still there, contemplating the night, her back to the ballroom's proceedings.

He walked through several dancing couples and curious gazes, trying and failing to come up with something to say. He hadn't done anything. Sometimes- honestly, most of the time- he could see where Han was coming from when he angered Deryne. He corrected himself then. No, he didn't anger her… that was not the right word. He thought of the tired expression she gave him after the heat of a fight, the sigh she directed at him, the exhausted shake of the head… he upset her, but most of all, he wore her out; she didn't have the energy to deal with him. Shame redoubled his efforts to puzzle out an apology, but logic told him there was no point. When he reached her for the second time this evening, he sat on the new windowsill and crossed his arms as he silently glared at the floor.

"It's hard to apologize, isn't it?" she murmured, and Rikash glowered, whipping around to face her.

"It's easier when there's something to be sorry for," he snapped, and Deryne stirred, turning her head towards him. She was grimacing.

"I meant I have some explaining to do," she muttered, and her friend's eyes narrowed.

"Really? I was under the impression that everything is always my fault." She gave him a small smile, but her heart wasn't in it; she gazed back out over the kitchen courtyard, illuminated by the faint glow of the moon.

"I'm trying to put my thoughts in order," she said ruefully. "I knew I'd have to do this eventually." Rikash raised his eyebrows in question, even though she was not looking at him; he figured her gudruna would probably tell her, anyway. A long exhalation left her lips, a soft, drawn out sound that emptied her lungs completely for an entirely fresh breath of air.

"The night Roger possessed Inar, and abducted me," she began, holding out a hand to silence Rikash when he promptly started to speak. "No, I'm not leaving you to your own conjectures this time," she whispered, shaking her head. "You will hear everything. It was the night of the ball-" Rikash swore.

"No wonder you hate me-"

"I don't hate you," Deryne replied, her honest surprise evident in her instant retort. "Ri, I hate Roger. And Malvyn." She paused, pinching her lip between her teeth. "And Yama's Festival," she muttered. "Because I let my guard down, after we had danced, and he-" She stopped.

"You shouldn't have had to have your guard up in the first place," Rikash growled, irked with himself again; he had lost count of the number of times he had berated himself for his stupidity. Malvyn had manipulated his trust in every way he possibly could have as he used Rikash to give the mage enough time to deliver his final, fatal blow. Deryne shook her head.

"I've made my peace with my caution's necessity." She gestured to the levity behind them. "I just- dancing with him, that night-" As her eyes fell shut with a bitter finality, Rikash's jaw dropped as he finally realized….

"You two were never-" He blinked as Deryne's jaw set. "-we thought you had both been…," he trailed off feebly, not daring to put words to whatever it had been. But he had assumed they had reached some sort of understanding long before that fateful night, from the way they looked at each other, the way he had touched her- "For weeks. Months, even-" His mouth snapped closed when Deryne scrunched her eyes shut tightly, her teeth gritted together.

"That night was the first time he and I kissed," she whispered, voice shaky. Rikash cursed himself; he had never been good in these tearful kinds of moments. He was useless. He glanced around quickly. Where was Han? That earth-mage knew very well that Rikash would be- was- at a loss. Feeling betrayed by his own sex, he turned back to Deryne, who was running a hand over her eyes. He saw the glint of wetness on her fingers and his heart sank; he really was no help- he had made her cry, this time… as far as he knew, out of all the horrible things he had done, he had never done that before.

Brilliant, Salmalin, he congratulated himself. His oldest friend was turning into a leaky dam, and he could do nothing but stand there staring, dumbfounded and edgy as her thoughts and feelings were opened for his inspection. Was this how she felt every time she listened to the wind, rare emotion and uncensored thought spilling into her lap? He didn't know how she could stand it. He felt as though he would go insane. He needed her to stop, because her grief tore at him, reproaching him for bearing witness to it…. He nodded across the room.

"I'll go ask that simpering blonde over there to dance, then," he said stupidly, calling himself a hundred different names as the words left his mouth, but Deryne chuckled. The relief that flooded through him made him feel even worse.

"We used to put frogs in the beds of folk like her," she mused, turning to find the debutante to whom he pointed. "Remember setting fire to those bed curtains?" Rikash snorted.

"Da nearly whipped me," he told her. He cocked his head to the side as his gaze slid to her. "I never did tell you that, did I? Ma made me do the laundry instead." He grimaced. "I think I would have preferred the beating." Deryne shook her head.

"No, you wouldn't have." Rikash shrugged, refraining from arguing pointlessly with her, especially not when she had been crying a moment before. He suspected that she noticed his refusal to be provoked; her lips twisted into a wry, half-smile. "I've missed our exciting duels."

"I'm sure." Sarcasm dripped from his words. She laughed again, louder this time.

"Don't tell me you haven't." He rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I've missed you. Happy?" She smirked.

"Actually, I'm waiting with baited breath," she confided, eyes twinkling humorously. "I imagine you'll lose your temper over some little thing and storm off in a matter of moments, as usual." That stung. Turning from her cheerful face with a bitter taste in his mouth, Rikash glowered and, for a spilt second, considered doing just that. She threw everything he did back in his face, out of spite. He was grateful to Han, now… if he hadn't practically dared Rikash to be more civil towards Deryne, he never would have been so certain that their fights were not his fault. Then he crossed his arms.

"Well, keep it up, and I'll probably set fire to something as I'm leaving, too," he snapped out, voice icy. He was waiting for Han to show up; their friend had an uncanny ability to appear at just the right moment, and that moment was now.

They stood silently for a very long moment. He resisted the insistent urge to glance at her.

"The world's been set on end," she muttered. "You're humoring me." There was a dry edge to her voice. "When did that happen?" Rikash's answer surprised him.

"When you decided to act like me, and I decided to grow a little," he retorted, soft, bitter venom in his last few words. He dared to chance a glance at her; when her steady gaze met his, his stare fled to the brightly moving figures before them.

"I see." Another soft laugh, and Rikash realized with a jolt that she was mocking herself. He whipped around, locking eyes with her. She gave him a tiny smile. "I guess I'm fair lucky, then, eh?" She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly before pulling back again. "Th-"

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Every muscle in Rikash's body stiffened. He could not restrain the rush of fiery magic that thundered through him as alarms shrieked in his mind. Deryne spun to face the speaker, taking a step backwards so that she was right beside her friend as they turned on the Lord Chancellor. Roger smiled as kindly as a fox bearing down on a flock of chicks. "I have not seen you in court before, young man," he told Rikash benevolently. "But you do seem familiar-"

"It is easy to mistake strangers for old friends," Rikash retorted darkly. "And even easier to mistake them for old foes." Deryne gripped his wrist, but he ignored the touch, drawing himself up to Roger's height as he glared. His blood sang for revenge, and he was acutely aware of every scar stretched taunt against his pale skin; he had told the healer to keep them after he was patched up after his battle with Malvyn… who had been taking orders from Roger, who later stole the body of the very man who brought him back to life….

He felt like he was back in the Black Caverns, fighting for his life on the floor littered with shards of glass; everything came back to him as he stared into those cold blue eyes…. The pain and the rage and the sense of betrayal….

"The last time I saw you, Salmalin," Roger said slowly. "You would not allow a girl-child to bring you to heel." Rikash's fists clenched tightly, but Deryne hastily stepped between the two, eyes blazing even as she laid a gentle hand on her friend's chest.

"This girl-child will rip your carcass to pieces if you don't start talking," she hissed, sticking her face in his. "Who is that damned beastie you've hired as a mercenary?" Rikash was gratified when the chancellor took a measured step backwards, studying the pair with his revolting smile still in place.

"How endearing," he commented, gaze lazy as it played across Rikash's face. "She defends you now. This year must have been a hard one, if she turns to you now." The youth flushed with anger, but this time he was the one restrain his friend; Deryne's hand was raised at a threatening angle, poised to strike the man across the face. Roger raised an eyebrow.

"I say," the chancellor murmured. "That would not look good for our neighbors to the south, would it?" At those words, Deryne's hand dropped like a stone through water, but her expression did not change.

"What do you want, Roger?" she hissed, and he chuckled.

"I wanted to see how my guests are enjoying the night," he answered, winking at Rikash, whose jaw twitched. "Even the uninvited ones. Where is the street rat? I imagine he's never too far from the other three of you." The only reply he received was a silent glower. Rikash's obstinacy only seemed to amuse him further. "No matter; I will find out, soon enough…." He cleared his throat as two other men joined him. "Captain Reuthsak," he said, gesturing to the first, whose smile was as cold as the chancellor's. The messenger. Rikash bit down a scowl; if Deryne had only listen to his mind when there had been a chance. "A familiar face," Roger added with a chuckle before pointing to the second. "And Warlord Jekriad, one of the old clan leaders. Squire Deryne of Queenscove of Tortall, and Adept Malvyn of our own realm." Relief that Roger would protect his identity was followed swiftly by shocked repulsion of the use of the old alias of his enemy, leaving Rikash speechless as Jekriad nodded with a disapproving frown; the warlord ran a hand through his white hair.

"The Marenite Duke wishes to discuss-" Roger waved a hand sharply, cutting him off; Rikash recognized the gesture. Malvyn had used it often when he had directed his numerous followers at the university, including Rikash himself. His stomach twisted in nausea and disgust.

"I am meeting the youth of our nations," he said jovially; only Deryne and Rikash could tell his eyes-fixed on them- were mocking. "And now, if I dare to steal her away, Adept-" He seized Deryne's hand in a startling quick motion; Rikash only barely managed to stop himself from springing at the man. The chancellor bowed over it elegantly, looked up with a cruel smile twisting his features. "-I would love to dance, my lady."

Rikash stared at the man, aghast.

Did he know her last dance had been with Inar?

Of course he did; that malevolent smirk told Rikash that. And any memories Inar had had were his, too…. Coldness shot through his veins, dousing any rising fury with the sheer cruelty of the man before them. Deryne was just as wide-eyed with horror, mouth partly open… surely she was considering the insult it would be to refuse, when the chancellor's cronies were at his side, waiting on her response.

"I'm afraid," a light, casual voice replied, and Rikash felt his muscles stir again. "I have already claimed this dance." Somehow Han appeared between Roger and Deryne; his large hand eased hers out of Roger's grasp as he bowed to the man. "My Lord Chancellor." A glint of emotion entered the chancellor's eyes; anger, perhaps? Rikash felt a smug, vengeful smile cross his face; thank the Gods for Han. He shot a grateful look at his friend, but Han was watching Roger thoughtfully. "My apologies." The chancellor straightened, his uncoiling body reminding Rikash of a cobra poised to strike.

"I will have to catch you later, Squire," their foe replied as he cast his eyes across the room; Rikash could tell his disinterest was feigned by the tense set of his shoulders. "Be assured, I will be watching- ready to claim the honor of dancing the moment your gallant rescuers take their leave." His idle drawl scared Rikash more than his rage would have. The chancellor was right; eventually, they would have to leave her to him and, even if she evaded Roger tonight, there would be a whole host of gatherings for him to seize his chance to taunt her further. "Excuse me." He bowed and strode away, cronies trailing in his wake. Deryne sagged as they vanished, leaning gingerly on Rikash for a moment before she sank back onto the windowsill.

"Dear Gods above," she whispered, clenching Han's hand like a lifeline. He sat down beside her, eyes narrowed as he frowned with concern.

"You're drained," he observed, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Tezock is terrifying, but this is not like you-" As Deryne cut him off to explain, Rikash silently debated whether or not to sit on her other side and finally decided to stay where he was, standing over his two friends. He felt like an ungainly snoop; without Han, she would be in Roger's arms, twisting and twirling as he mocked her. He had to press his lips tightly together to suppress the expletive on the tip of his tongue; he had been as stunned as she had been, and altogether an abysmal friend-

If only he had a coin for every time he thanked the Gods for Han…. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of any thoughts as he turned back to Deryne.

"He sucks the gudruna out of the air," she was saying tersely. "The breezes race through me- they give me information, and then they go on their own way… but when they go to him-" She shuddered. "-there's a void; I can't touch him, and I- as much as I want to doubt it- I think he used some sort of sekali to kill those men." Rikash made the Sign against his chest; the power made him shiver enough when she used it.

Han rose, turning his head this way and that.

"I'll find him; I should listen to what the stones think about this immortal," he said. He tugged on Deryne's fingers, and as she stood, he placed her hand in Rikash's. "Dance, but don't leave or do anything exciting until I return, all right?" His lips twitched as Rikash stared, astonished. "He might need a little instruction, but he probably won't step on your toes, Deryne." Their friend ducked her head; Rikash shook his head.

"We don't have to," he said lamely, remembering when he had asked her in the first place. He was surprised when she jerked her head in the direction of other dancers.

"And miss this opportunity to humiliate you?" she asked lightly as they left Han behind. She lowered her voice as it turned resigned. "I'll have to do this sometime… and I might as well now- better you than Roger." Rikash ground his teeth together as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Make sure you don't crush my feet." He snorted.

"Your gudruna would tell you when to get out of the way," he retorted, irked. "And I might be out of practice, but I'm not clumsy." Still, he felt hobbled, his movement stilted; Deryne had a grace that could only come from knowing every motion around her before it was enacted- she flowed across the floor, unconsciously weaving, shifting in an endless dance that baffled him. He understood the steps and performed them, but there was no way to imitate the way she moved, in sync with all her surroundings like she had done in a thousand times over. Every time he met her pale eyes, she raised her eyebrows, as though she dared him to speak; he spent most of the time looking out over the crowd, at the flashy colors and the blasted noise- he couldn't think in the melee.

He was caught by surprise when a delicate young woman dressed in blue and bedecked with silver appeared at their side, putting a hand on Deryne. Rikash scowled, but before he could say anything, his friend held up a hand to quiet him. Her eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with the silent courtier, then widened.

"I'll see you later," Deryne whispered without looking at him as she stepped back. He stared from her to the mysterious girl, who now took hold of the squire's hand. The lady's eyes flickered over him, then fastened themselves meekly on the floor; her face gave nothing away, which made him all the more suspicious. He glared through the curtain of blond ringlets she kept between them, but divined no secrets.

"What-" This time, Deryne pressed a finger to his lips; he froze as the blonde made her exit, sliding in between couples as she weaved away from them.

"Later," Deryne replied casually, as though no strange occurrences were unfolding. He glowered. She patted his arm, gray eyes fixed on his- it was something important enough that she didn't dare speak; had that girl used the gudruna to talk to his friend? He could not come up with another explanation… he had a feeling that she would tell him, mind-to-mind, if he would let her….

He took a breath, reaching out with his mind, knowing that she would hear the first unprotected thought he allowed to escape from his mind-

And pulled back; his mind shut tighter than a steel trap as he lost his nerve- didn't he remember why he didn't let her in?

She had sensed his refusal; he saw disappointment flicker in her eyes before she turned away.

"Later," she promised, and set off. Rikash watched her for a moment, debating whether he should follow her, when she vanished from his sight.

AN: Yes... abuse me for this lackadaisical effort... but since I'm posting again tomorrow, I figured I should end here for now...Again, I am sorry... and hope that someone remembers this story...