She went first to his side; his hands had been loosely tied together at the wrist and the bindings were hooked over the pommel of the saddle. The stirrup-irons were gone, probably stored in one of the packs bundled behind his saddle; the stirrup-leathers had been turned into straps binding his calves to the saddle itself. He was belted twice at the waist; once to the pommel, once to the high cantle, using rings on the saddle meant for exactly that purpose. He was notgoing to come off.
Andrel reached her side; he reached up and pried open one of Vanyel’s eyelids. The boy didn’t react at all, and his pupils were mere pinpoints. The Healer’s eye unfocused for a moment as he “read” the boy; then he nodded with satisfaction.
“He should be all right, Savil. No more drugs, though, after this. Not even if those friends of yours - “
Savil shook her head. “They don’t like this kind of drug. Not for any reason. Drugs like you’ve been giving him are too easy to abuse.”
“I don’t like them either, but there are times you’ve got no other choice, and this was one of them.” Andrel touched the boy’s hand; his green eyes darkened as he brooded for a moment. “Gods. I hope you’re right about these people. His channels haven’t healed at all, not really.”
“If they can’t help us, no one can.” Savil turned her back on her semi-conscious charge and faced the door of the Temple, and put herself into the right mindset to invoke her spell.
To build a Gate -
It was the most personal of spells. Only one person could build a Gate, because only one mind could direct the energy needed to build it. The spell-wielder had to have a very exact notion of wherethe Gate was to exit, and no two people ever had precisely the same mental image of a place. In any event, only Savil had ever been in the k’Treva territory of the Pelagirs. She couldn’t be “fed” by another Herald-Mage, since she would need every bit of her attention for the Gate itself and would have none to spare to channel incoming energy. Lastly, because the energy had to be so intimately directed, it could come from only one place -
From withinthe builder of the Gate. Or - perhaps - one soul-bound to the builder of the Gate? A lifebond was at such a deep level that it wasn’t conscious, so perhaps that was why Tylendel had succeeded in using Vanyel as his source of energy.
The kind of power needed to build a Gate was the kind that couldbe stored, could be planned for. But like a vessel that could only hold so much liquid, a mage could only hold so much energy within himself. Savil had prepared for this; she could replenish herself within a day when the spell was completed and the Gate dismissed. But for that critical period of twenty-four candlemarks she would be exhausted - physically, mentally, and magically.
No time to think of that. Get to it, woman. First, the Portal, then the Weaving.
The Temple door had been used so many times before as one end of a Gate that it needed no special preparation. She needed only to - reach -
She raised her hands, closed her eyes, and centered herself so exactly that everything about her vanished from her attention. There was only the power within her, and the place where the Gate would begin.
Icall upon the Portal-
She molded the power into a frame upon the physical frame of the doorway; building it layer upon layer until it was strong enough to act as an anchor to hold thisplace when she warped space back upon itself.
Then she began spinning out threads of energy from the framework; they drifted outward, seeking.
This is the place, she told them, silently willing them to find the real-world counterpart of the image in her mind. Where the rocks areso and the trees growthus and the feel of the earth is inthis manner-
They spun out, longer, finer, more attenuated. When they weakened, she fed them from within herself, spinning her own substance out and feeling it drawn out of her.
Now she was losing strength; it felt exactly as if she were bleeding from an open wound. And the power was not merely draining from her anymore, it was being pulledfrom her by the Gate itself. This was the point of greatest danger for a Herald-Mage; she was having to fight the Gate to keep from being drained right down to unconsciousness.
Then one of those questing power-threads caught on something, out beyond the farthest range of her sensing; another followed -
There was a silent explosion of light that she could see even through her closed lids, and the Gate Wove itself in an instant into a temporary, but stable, whole.
She dropped her hands, opened her eyes, and swayed with uttermost exhaustion; Kellan was there beside her in time for her to catch the pommel of her saddle to keep from falling.
The door of the Temple was no longer within the doorframe. Instead, the white marble - glowing now, even in the bright sunlight - framed a strange and twisted bit of landscape.
“That’swhere you’re going?” Jaysen said doubtfully, looking at the weird shapes of rock, snow and sand that lay beyond the portal. It was snowing there, from black, lowering clouds; fat flakes drifting down through still, dark air. Savil nodded.
“That’s it; that’s the edge of the Pelagirs near Star-wind’s territory. The other end is a cave entrance, so we’ll have some shelter on the other side until Starwind and Moondance get there.”
“And if they don’t?” Jaysen asked. “Savil, I don’t like to think of you two alone out in a place like that. The boy is next to useless, and you’re exhausted.”
“Jays, it’s quite possible that they’d take one look at you and kill you if they didn’t see me right there with you,” she said, clinging to the saddle and trying to muster enough strength to climb into it. “They’re unbelievably territorial and secretive, and for good reasons - think for a minute, will you? They haveto have known someone was tampering, stealing creatures they thought safely locked up. If they see a stranger and Sense he’s Mage-Gifted, they’re likely to strike first and ask questions of the corpse. And I mean that literally. I’m taking enough risk bringing the boy in, and he’s plainly in need of help, and branded as mine. “
She gave up trying to be self-sufficient. “Boost me up, will you?” she asked humbly.
Jaysen went her one better; with the help of Andrel he liftedher into place. “Have you got everything you need?”
“I think so.” In actual fact, she was too tired to think; it was all she could do to keep her mind on the next step of the journey. “Toss the firewood through.”
Four heavy bundles of dry, seasoned wood went through the Gate to land in the snow on the other side.
Vanyel whimpered beside her; she could see his face was creased with lines of pain. He’s feeling it, like Andy thought he might. Better hurry.
“Mardic - “ she said quietly. “Donni - “
Savil’s proteges came solemnly to her stirrup; she held out her hands to them, and shared a moment of mind-melded intimacy with them that was more than “farewell”; it was a sharing of gifts. Her pride in them and love and blessing - and their love and well-wishing for her.
“Lissa - “
The girl came to stand beside her students.
“I can’t begin to thank you,” Savil began, awkward, as ever, with words.
“Thank me by bringing Van home well,” Lissa replied earnestly. “That’s all I want.” She reached up and squeezed Savil’s hand once, then backed away.
The youngsters moved out of the way, and Jaysen and Andrel came to take their place without any prompting. She gave a hand to each, closing her eyes again, and opening herself to them in a melding even more intimate than she had shared with her students, for there were no secrets among the three of them, and nothing held back. What she had not told Mardic and Donni was that there might be no returning from this journey. If she failed with Vanyel, he might well destroy both of them, his Gifts were that powerful. Even now he moaned again in his drug-induced slumber, feeling the Gate energies despite a dose of narcotic that would have rendered a less sensitive Gifted unconscious for a week.