Savil came up out of Vanyel's mind with a rush like a startled fish jumping out of a stream, and looked from the boy to the Healer and back in a state of surprise that closely resembled shock.
"Great good gods," she said, "What the hell happened to do that?"
Andrel shook his head. "Your guess would be better than mine. I never cared much where our powers came from, I was just concerned with learning to use them effectively. But do you see what I'm up against with this boy?"
"I think so," Savil replied, groping for the bedpost and sitting down carefully on the foot of the bed. "Let me add this up. You've got backlash trauma from when the Gate-energy got pulled from him, and more trauma from when we sent it back into him; you've got the problems inherent when you wake Gifts late or early. You've got the problems with them being at full power from the moment they woke. Worst of all, you've got channels that were burned open or torn open instead of opening of themselves."
"That, and more mundane emotional trauma and physical shock. I hope to the Havens that he doesn't come down with pneumonia on top of it all. I already fought off one fever, one his own body produced when it couldn't handle the energy-overload." Andrel touched the back of his hand to the boy's waxen cheek, checking his temperature. "So far, so good, but it's a real possibility. And I'm fighting off the effects of exposure, too. Savil, the child is a mess."
"Lover, you have a talent for understatement." Savil contemplated Vanyel's pinched, grief-twisted face.
Even in sleep he doesn't lose his pain.
"Now I see why Yfandes was so reluctant to let him out of her care. Until she gets him firmly bonded to her, he's going to have to be in physical contact with her for her to protect him. But what can we do? I can't fit her in here, I can't put him in the stables, not with the weather being what it is."
"Try, and I'll call you up on charges," Andrel replied, and Savil could tell that he was not joking. "Do that in this chill, and you'll kill him. It's going to be touchy enough with him tucked up in a warm bed."
"Well, how in hell do I protect him from his own powers?"
"Put your own shields on him, and hope nothing gets through."
"I can't keep them up forever," Savil reminded him acidly. "I'm fairly well fagged out myself. A couple of hours is about all I can manage at this point.''
"Then go order -two graves, dammit!" the Healer snarled in sudden frustration. "Because you're going to lose this one, too, if you don't do everything right with him!"
Savil pulled back, taken very much aback by the sudden explosion of temper. "I," she faltered, then as his words penetrated, and she thought of what was lying in the Grove Temple at this moment, lost her own precarious hold on calm.
She got up, stumbling a little; turned away from him and leaned against the doorframe, her shoulders shaking with her'silent weeping.
"Savil - "
Strong but trembling hands on her shoulders turned her back to face the room, and pulled her into an embrace against a bony chest covered in soft, green wool. "Savil, I'm sorry," Andrel murmured into her hair. "I shouldn't have said that. You're exhausted, I'm exhausted, and neither of us are up to facing the problem this boy represents. Is there anyone you can turn him over to, for a day, at least? Long enough for you to get some rest and a chance to think?''
A white square of linen appeared just when she needed it. She mopped at her eyes with the handkerchief he offered, and blew her nose. "Under any other circumstances I'd just let any of the others spell me - but I don't know, Andy. A lot of them still think he's responsible for all this. Even if they shield - with Gifts like his, what's he going to pick up? You of all people should know how leaky we all are to a new, raw Gift, even when we aren't stressed."
Andrel sighed. "Dearheart, I don't think you have a real choice. You'll just have to hope that if surface thoughts leak past, he won't be able to understand them yet. If you don't get some rest, you're going to collapse, and even a novice Healer would be able to tell you that." She bowed her head, feeling the weight of all her years and all her sorrows falling on her back. "All right," she said, acting against her better judgment, but unable to see any other option open to her. "See if you can round up Tantras for me, will you? At least he didn't know poor 'Lendel all that well."
Vanyel woke from a dream in which Tylendel was alive again, and had teased him gently about how much he had been grieving. For a confused moment after waking, he wasn't certain which had been the dream, and which the reality.
Then he opened his eyes, and found that he was in his own bed, and his own room, now illuminated by carefully shaded candle-lanterns. And there was something odd about the room.
After a long moment, he finally figured out what it was. The feeling of "Tylendel," the sense of his being there even when he wasn't physically present, was missing.
That told him. He swallowed a moan of despair, and closed his eyes against the resurgence of tears - and just in time, for the door opened softly and closed again, and he felt a new presence in the room with him.
He froze for a moment, then sighed, as if in sleep, and turned onto his side, hiding his face away from the light.
He was hearing things - like someone talking to himself, only - only, inside his head, the way Yfandes' voice had been inside his head. It hurt to listen, but he couldn't stop the words from coming in. And from the feel of that mind-voice, he knew who it was that was sitting by his bedside, too; it was one of the Heralds that had been with Savil, the one called Jaysen.
And Jaysen did not in the least care for Vanyel.
: - gods - :Vanyel heard, a little garbled by the pain that came with the words : - trade this arrogant little toad for Tylendel. Damn poor bargain.:
Vanyel could feel brooding eyes on him, and the words in his head came clearer, more focused :No matter what Savil said, I'll never believe he didn't have something to do with the boy's death. If they'd been all that close, Tylendel would have listened to him, and even if 'Lendel was crazed on revenge, this one wasn't. 'Lendel may have loved him, but he could never have cared for the lad in the same way, or he'd have stopped him. 'Lendel was just one more little addition to his stable of admirers. If he'd left 'Lendel alone, if he hadn't played on his - weaknesses - :
Vanyel cringed beneath the pitiless words, and the vision of himself that came with them; arrogant, self-centered, self-serving. Using Tylendel, not caring for him. And worse; worse than that, feeding him what he craved, like feeding a perpetual drunk the liquor he shouldn't have.
Without thinking about it, he reached beyond his room; it was a little like straining his ears to hear a conversation in the distance, and the pain that came with the effort felt like muscles pulling against a broken bone, but he found he could catch other snatches of - it must be thoughts - that touched on him.
They could have been echoes of Jaysen's thoughts.
He pulled his awareness back, as a child pulls its singed hand from the fire that has burned it. There were only two creatures in all the world that he could be certain cared for him despite what he was; Tylendel and Yfandes. Neither were to be trusted to know the truth about him. The second was besotted by whatever magic had made her Choose him; the first was -