Yeah…. I probably would have gotten this done earlier… but midway through the chapter I stole someone's Rubik's cube…. That should explain it… so far I only have the blue side. L

108 reviews…wow… I've hit a hundred reviews… Hey Amber Stag, you owe me moneh!

Reviewer replies:

Fireblade K'Chona- oops…. Sorry… thought they were, but can't exactly change that now…

Lil-sis4556- spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam!

Thanks to- Wizard116, GIJew25 (when I saw your name my eyebrows hit the ceiling…) Ballgirl, Moondance, Amber Stag, Fimbrethil, lachrymose, Shadowfax, and Jess.

And once again, I sent Mischakitsune the equivalent of a child's crayon scrawl and she sends me back museum-quality stoofs.

Nowhere can a secret keep
always secret, dark and deep,
half so well as in the past,
buried deep to last, to last.

Keep it in your own dark heart,
otherwise the rumors start.

After many years have buried
secrets over which you worried,
no confidant can then betray
all the words you didn't say.

Only you can then exhume
secrets safe within the tomb
of memory, of memory,
within the tomb of memory.

-The Book of Counted Sorrows

Chapter 19: Nowhere Can A Secret Keep

The last vestiges of a very strange dream lingered with Rowen as he crawled out of unconsciousness. When he opened his eyes the first thing he saw was a Hardornen Healer hauling Julian towards a cot still being dragged into a corner by a small boy.

Unfortunately he couldn't move, and any attempts to try brought pain from his midsection, and even worse, a horrible, empty pain from the right side of his chest.

'Julian…'

What had happened? In the dream… in the dream he'd been whole… been human, back on the Plains with his… parents? But that couldn't be right; his parents had been dead for fifteen years, and it was at around this age that they'd been together… So that's all it had been? A bittersweet dream of wishes that would never come true. But… Julian had come, and awakened him from an amnesiac state of awareness, and then… then what? Hard as he tried, Rowen couldn't remember anything but a vague wisp of Julian's blue eyes filled with a great and terrible sadness… and a mournful voice saying, "This field- these colors- I can't see them where we belong. I'm blind, Rowen. I'm blind and you were Changed in the Mage Storms."

He looked at the Bard now lying on the bed and halfway covered with a blanket with a new appreciation. Even if the dream wasn't real, what Julian had been doing was incredible. Following him all the way to Hardorn and staying to wait for him… Rowen didn't know why Julian was doing all of this, but he appreciated it greatly. But why was Julian unconscious? And why had the Healer been hauling him to the bed like he'd just dropped off cold from a standing position? 'Okay, sitting,' Rowen amended the thought when his eyes drifted towards a chair lying on its side on the floor near his cot.

He watched the Healer fuss over the Bard before the man turned to him and narrowed his eyes.

"You're awake, I see," he said, voice heavy with the unmistakable Empire accent of those who had defected with Tremane.

"Yes," Rowen rasped through a throat that felt like he had been breathing cold, dry winter air on the Plains for weeks.

"How do you feel?"

"Weak."

"That's to be expected. You were in a coma, you know. Julian had to pull you out of it. I still don't know what he did, but it must have put a lot of strain on his mind; he has a headache the size of Hardorn right now. When I came in, he was lying on the floor and you were… well, you had more color in your face, that's for sure. He left a note saying something about trying to reach you and bring you out of the coma. I can only assume that it worked," he said dryly.

"Oh," was all Rowen could say.

"Did you know that you died?" the boy said. "He saved you then, too." He pointed at Julian.

"I died?"

"Went out like a candle," the boy said happily. "But he lit you again, and then you were in the coma, and then you came back here with the convoy."

"Convoy?"

"The one transporting wounded soldiers. For someone who Julian said was supposed to be a killing machine, you sure went down fast," the boy said.

Rowen felt unexplainably chagrined. "I killed about fifty soldiers, boy. Then I had a large ball of energy blow up in my face, had to fight more soldiers, then got shot twice. Would that qualify as an excuse?"

The boy stared at him. "The Herald Mage lasted longer than you did."

Rowen felt his lips curve into a smile at the boy's forwardness. "How is she?"

"She's fine," the Healer said. "In fact she's been asking about you whenever the rescue force is between towns."

A worry that had been lurking in the back of his mind suddenly crystallized. "How many did we save?"

"As many as we could. The same at the second town. At the third town… the soldiers decided that they should make as big a blow as possible, though. I'm sorry, but… they killed all of the hostages before we even got there."

Rowen's spirits sank. "And what of the other towns?"

"We sent half of the forces around in a pincer maneuver and caught three other towns offguard, especially when we kill the mage first. We saved many more civilians there and managed to take half of the soldiers as prisoners. Then we just started putting Mage-shields over every town and flooding them with a common gas used in the Empire to subdue riots. The mages can't defend against something they can't see or smell, so that's been working very well so far."

"Ah. At least you're having luck there. The murderer…" The man spread his hands helplessly.

Rowen looked up sharply. "We heard rumors of a murderer lurking in the castle, but we thought it was just the rumor-mill!"

"No," the Healer sighed. "It seems that there is a murderer. He's already assassinated Chancellor Hythrel and Lord Rhandon, the Minister of Civilian Relations."

"Sheka."

"My thoughts exactly."

"And they don't know who it is?"

"No. All of the assassinations have been done without magic. The only clue we have is that we think Tremane is next. Traditionally, if the target is of secondary Heir-status or higher, two men are murdered before your main victim, and the method of murder determines whether it will be the secondary Heir, the Heir himself, the Emperor, or the Empress."

"Empress?"

"Well- actually…" the Healer coughed. "She's not really an Empress per se, she's just really there as a function. We haven't really had an Empress since the reign of the fifteenth Emperor, Shellin."

"Why?"

"The Empress attempted to murder Shellin and he destroyed her, mind first."

Rowen winced.

"So we really haven't had an Empress since that. Too much mistrust. There have been a few pretenses, but other than that, there have been none; only liaisons and Princesses that never survived past giving birth to the baby."

The Healer looked at a pot that was brewing in a corner. "Tea's ready." He poured a single cup then brought it over to Julian. He propped the Bard up with one arm then forced the tea down his throat with the other. Apparently it wasn't very hot since the Healer didn't look too worried.

"He was very worried about you," the unnamed Healer said quietly.

"Was the- the dream real?" Rowen asked just as quietly.

"Dream?" the Healer asked sharply.

"I was home… back on the Plains, and my parents were there. I couldn't remember anything, and then Julian was there and we went through an invisible door and I… I remembered everything."

"Well, coma victims often don't remember a lot if they wake up. I can only assume that the dream was a perception of awareness and when Julian came he changed it and then broke it."

"Then it was real?"

"Yes."

I'm blind…

Before, he'd never truly realized what Julian had lost. If everything in that 'dream' was real, then Julian had given up sight a second time… all for him.

He looked again at the Bard on the bed. 'What drives you, Julian?' he silently wondered. 'What drives you to sacrifice so much for so little?'

You, a small voice in his mind whispered, startling him. It was like a small breeze of wind; there, then gone.

He dismissed it casually and went back to staring, (albeit broodingly) at Julian J'Erthan, Bard of Valdemar.

Julian awoke with a groan and what had to be the worst headache he'd ever had. It made all of the other ones seem like pleasant dreams, and opened his eyes- to blackness. He was blind again. He sighed softly and was rewarded with a sudden noise from another side of the room. It sounded sort of like a mixture between a gasp and a snort.

"Julian?" Rowen's voice sounded unnaturally worried.

"Rowen!" Julian ignored the demon that tried to claw its way out of his head with every word. "You're alright! I mean- of course you are, I just don't- I didn't think that- what I mean is-" He stumbled incessantly over his words and felt himself blush.

'Damn. Why can't I talk without stammering? He's not going to feel the lifebond, so why should I be worried? But… I didn't feel the lifebond either until Sendan pointed it out and I actively looked for it. Is it possible that Rowen could know, even though he's not Gifted?'

He gently let his shields down a fraction, and feeling no one else in the room, expanded them to include Rowen.

He couldn't feel anything from the Changechild except for worry, confusion, and a strong sense of guilt mixed with trust aimed at- Julian himself?

'Why?'

Julian closed his shields. "Rowen, did I do something wrong?"

He could hear the other man jump slightly.

"No, there's nothing wrong. You didn't do anything wrong, if that's what you're asking. I'm just wondering… why?"

'Huh?'

"Why what?"

"Why you've been doing all of these things to help me. Why you followed me here, why you brought me out of the coma just now, why you saved my life when I died after Castogol, why you brought me to Valdemar, and why… why you even saved me from being killed by the Heralds in the first place." His voice spiraled up and broke. "Why, Julian?"

This was not the question Julian had been expecting.

"I really don't know," he began slowly. "When I met you… you were… well, you weren't exactly kind, but you were nice enough, and I could detect nothing from you but slight concern for my safety. You were nice, and you were… you were human, Rowen. Monsters aren't human. Then you came to me and asked me for help, and you needed it so badly… Could I really have told them to shoot? Then you needed sanctuary. The bandits would have come back with a mob eventually… So I offered you that. I followed you here because you are my friend, and I couldn't bear the thought of you having no friend in all of Hardorn." Okay, that was a small stretch, but it was better than the truth that Rowen would not want to hear.

"How could I leave you in the coma? You are very dear to my heart, Rowen. I couldn't lose you." That was close enough to the truth.

"But you could have died!" Rowen protested. "The Healer told me that what you did was extremely dangerous!"

"And you expected me to sit back and watch you waste away from lack of eating? If I hadn't tried to save you, I would have regretted it all my life. Besides, I know when my mind is being stretched too much. I didn't reach the brink, and I would have come back before it was too late. I couldn't leave you there."

'Wouldn't I?'

Would he have really left the world if he had been unable to help Rowen? He had sight, and color there. If his tether had snapped, what would have happened?

Julian wasn't sure he really wanted to find out.

"Wouldn't you?" Rowen's voice sounded hollow. "Wouldn't you have left without me?"

Julian knew he had to phrase the answer carefully. "Yes. I would have, but I would keep trying until I died."

"You would do that for a foreign Changechild who trapped himself in his own mind? You would keep going back to the fake Plains, and tear yourself away from sight and color every time, and come back to a black world full of pain, only to keep torturing yourself with that fake world, and a person who never believed you?"

"Yes," Julian said without even needing to think about it. "I would keep going back. I would torture myself every day with sight and then return to pain, and suffer that fate over and over to bring you back." His voice had descended into a whisper, and he knew that he was perilously close to revealing his secret, and then the worse secret of the lifebond.

Seconds before the dam burst, Masaan swept into the room. "That's quite enough, Julian. You need more tea and then more sleep."

Suddenly all of the forgotten pain surged back into Julian's head, and he let out a small whimper.

"Told you," the Healer said with a reproving tone in his voice. "When you overuse your Gift, you have to give it time to Heal! I know you opened your shields a few minutes ago, scarce hours after nearly overusing your Gift to the point of death! I know you want to talk with Rowen, but you're just going to prolong the healing process if you keep that up."

"But, Masaan-"

"No buts! Drink this," and Julian felt a cup being forced into his hands. "And then sleep. We can talk tomorrow. The assassin hasn't struck yet, and we're assuming that he won't until Tremane lets his guard down. Which," he added smugly, "isn't going to happen. The King is not a fool, and we have men on guard switching every hour and taking every precaution possible. So you can sleep. I would suggest the same for your friend, although I don't think he's very inclined to that possibility at the moment, having been asleep for a while now."

"I can sleep." Rowen's voice sounded stubborn as usual, and Julian smiled into his tea, even though he was still troubled by Rowen's new nitpick-Julian's-decisions attitude.

He drained the cup and placed it on the side of the pallet, and soon felt its slight weight vanish as Masaan removed it.

"And no more talking from either of you," the Healer said. "Sendan will be right inside the door to ensure that. Right, Sen?"

He received an affirmative from the formerly unnoticed page, and then left, with a hint of amusement lining his parting words. "Be good."

"Sleep," Sendan said.

"If you'd turn the light off, I'd be more than happy to do so," Rowen said sarcastically.

Julian blinked at the sudden weight on his chest. That simple sentence had made it perfectly clear that he was yet again blind. He sighed and turned over to the wall before either of the room's other occupants could see the sudden glisten of tears in his eyes.

Rowen lay semi-awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling. He was ignoring the whispered conversation from the other side of the room, trying simply to clear his mind and ignore the empty pain from his chest so he could sleep without nightmares of Castogol.

"But he doesn't know! What's the point in telling him, then?" he heard Julian's voice hiss.

"Either you tell him before you lose the chance, and you know, or you can not tell him and then go on with the rest of your life wondering."

That was Sendan. What on earth could they be talking about?

"No!"

"Tell him!"

"No!"

"Julian…"

'Tell who what?' Rowen wondered. He deliberately made a noise, hoping that would startle some new information out of them. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect.

"Rowen's awake!" Julian said in a panicked whisper. "He heard it all!"

"Relax," Sendan said. "He was just shifting in his sleep."

"Rowen doesn't shift in his sleep! He stays in one damn position all night! On the offchance that he actually is asleep, I'm going to go to sleep and hope that he didn't hear this."

"But-"

An obviously fake snore interrupted the protest, and Sendan sighed gustily, and Rowen heard him get up and resume his position in the chair by the door.

Julian continued with his fake snores, but they were getting softer and longer, and Rowen could tell that he was losing the battle with sleep.

Once he was reasonably sure that Julian actually was asleep, even though the snores continued, he decided to speak. "Oi, Sendan." The snores stopped abruptly.

"Eh?"

"Who were you talking about just now?"

"Uh… no one you know," Sendan said quickly. "Go to sleep."

A small groan came from Julian's side of the room. "Who, Sendan?" Rowen repeated.

Sendan ignored him, and Rowen decided to leave the matter alone, even though he was reasonably sure that Julian and Sendan had been talking about something he wasn't supposed to hear about.

After what seemed like hours, Rowen finally surrendered to the same enemy that Julian had been fighting.

Had Julian been telling the truth about why he'd done all of those things for Rowen? The answers seemed too simple to Rowen, and the question followed him into the nether realms of sleep.

'Why did he really save me?'

Once again, thanks to all of the reviewers. Now you, too, can join the ranks of people sending words of joy or notes of criticism! Just press the small purple button at the bottom of the screen!