:Savil?:

Recognition and relief. :Gods! Ke'chara, what has been bloody going on? Where are you ?:

He told her everything that had happened, from the time he'd been awakened by the nightmare. He compressed as much of it as he could, warned her in advance before he Mindsent her an image of Tashir, and even so, the close resemblance to Tylendel came as a shock to her that mirrored his own. He had been Tylendel's lover - but Savil had been mentor, friend, confidant, and near-mother to Tylendel, the role she filled now for Vanyel.

:So,: she sent, after she regained her mental balance. :Plans?:

:I'm taking him into protective custody, and getting him out of here.:

:How, with a mob - oh, gods.: Realization and fear. Flatly-:You're going to Gate.:

:Do you see any other choice?: he asked. :Even if the mob weren't there-I tried to remember what little I've heard about investigative procedures. Preserve the evidence. If I break the shield-spell to get out, anybody can get in, and I don't have the power to set a second spell, not this solid, not from the outside. From the inside I can tap the node, but the interference I'd create with the shield would keep me effectively out of the node. You know that. Shields are permeable to the creator, but they still resist penetration. We have to find out what happened here, and we won't if anyone can get in and muddle things up.:

Her mind-voice was gritty and gray with grim concern. :Far too logical to make me happy, love. But you rank me these days, and there's reasons enough for that for me to follow your lead. Where are you coming in?:

He'd thought about that very carefully. :The door to the old chapel. It's on sanctified ground, it's one of the few doors inside Forst Reach big enough to use as a Gate-terminus, but it's not under constant use, and I know it as well as I will ever know any place. So be ready for me, because I'm not going to be worth much when I come through. :

:As if I didn't know. Be careful - please.:

:I'll try.:

He cut the connection to the node, which dropped him out of the link with Savil, and turned his mind to one nearer at hand.

:Brightlove-:

:Chosen-:

:I'm Gating myself and Tashir out of here. You and the Young One make a run for it. If that damned fool calling himself a Herald can't take the hint, it's not my fault; I've got too many balls in the air as it is.:

She trembled with concern. :I will warn Jenna; if she can get him to mount, she can carry him off whether he likes it or not. I won't tell you not to use that means of escape, only - take care!:

He touched her with a mental caress. :I shall.:

He opened his eyes, and considered the possibilities, finally deciding on the open archway onto the stairs as his best bet. Putting a Gate-terminus on the outer door where the shield was would be risking more magically than he cared to. At full powers, maybe. Not now.

But first - He shoved outward a little, chuckling nastily as the expanding shield shoved Lores down the stairs and into the courtyard. There. That should keep them quiet for a bit.

He walked to the center of the hallway, raised his hands, and began.

He spun bits of himself, his stored powers, into the structure. He could not tap the node for this; the only possible way to use external mage-energy for a Gate would be - at least as far as he had learned - if two mages were lifebonded, for at some deep level, two lifebonded were one. And, as always, as soon as he had formed the Portal around the edge of the archway, his uniquely sensitized channels began to burn painfully as he resonated to Gate-energy. When the Gate was complete, he'd be in torment.

But that was something he had learned to accept and work around. The Weaving - He spun himself, his own substance, out into threads that quested for the unique place he sought, the place where he would build the other end of the Gate. At some point he was no longer having to send those searching filaments; they were pulling on him, and it was all he could do to keep them from spinning away from him and taking everything that was him with them. Then, finally, one of them found the chapel door – another - a third - There was a flare of light, not so bright as the one when he'd built the shield, and his knees gave.

Oh, hell- he thought dazedly. I wasn't as ready as I thought I was.

He crouched on the filthy, shard-covered floor, panting in pain, for a long, long moment before he had the strength to look up. But when he did, he saw, not the wreckage of the Highjorune Great Hall, but the welcoming, familiar corridor that led to the old Forst Reach chapel. And thrice-blessed Savil, tunic on backward, waiting. The pain -

I ... think I'm in trouble. I've never . . . been this drained... before, he thought, somewhere under the red wash of burning. Oh, gods - if I'd known it was going to be like this, I'd never have had the courage. . . .

He got to his feet, somehow; he staggered like a mortally - wounded drunk trying to get to Tashir. He was so dizzy he could hardly see, and only concentrating on each step, one at a time, enabled him to cross the hallway to the young man.

“Ta-shir,” he croaked, and prayed for a little intelligence in those eyes. His prayers were answered this time; the young man stared at him with a kind of foggy awareness, though he still trembled in every limb. “Go ... get up ...” His feeble tugs on Tashir's arm were answered, the young man stumbled to his feet. “Go ... there ...”He pushed Tashir toward the Gate, every step bought with black - red waves of pain.

Maddeningly, Tashir stopped, right on the edge.

Vanyel screamed in frustration and torment, and shoved, sending the young man stumbling through, and unable to keep his balance, fell right through after him.

Fell from torment into agony; strength gone, control gone, sight, sound, all senses. There was only the pain -

And then there was nothing.

Eight

“You look like hell,” said a rough voice just above I his head.

What an amazing coincidence, Savil, Vanyel thought without opening his eyes. I feel like hell.

“I seem,” his aunt continued dryly, “to spend an inordinate amount of time at your bedside. And don't try to pretend you're not awake.”

“I wouldn't think of it,” he whispered, cracking his right eye open. Savil was lounging in the chair she'd pulled up next to his bed, feet on his bed. “Mother will have a cat,” he observed, prying his left eye open as well. “You know how she feels about boots on the bedcovers.”

“Your mother isn't here at the moment. How are you feeling?”

He took a quick inventory. ”Other than some assorted joint-aches, about the same as when I got back to Haven. Which is to say, as you pointed out, like hell. What's been going on? How long was I out this time?''

“Your outside matches your inside, we're not in a war with Lineas quite yet, and three days.” She quirked one corner of her mouth as he groaned, and continued. “I took the liberty of deep-scanning you while you were wit-wandering, and I got in touch with a couple of merchant-contacts in Highjorune. Useful birds, pigeons. Particularly when one can tell their little heads exactly where you want them to go. You want your briefing in sequence, or by specifics?”

He had been inching into a sitting position while she was talking. She poured a goblet of cider from a pitcher next to her, and handed it to him when he was secure.

“In sequence,” he said, after a sip to help moisten his throat. “And you'd better start with how Father is taking the new houseguest.”

“Your father doesn't know about him, thank the gods.” The other corner of her mouth twitched up to make a real smile. “Your old aunt is no fool, ke'chara; he was due to make his Harvest-tide inspection round of the freeholders the same morning you Gated back and fell on your nose. I simply installed Tashir in the guest room next to yours and didn't bother to tell anyone until after Withen was gone.” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “I have to tell you, having that boy around is unnerving. He acts like a ghost, whisking out of sight when he sees me coming; he's given me chills more than once. He's too like our lost one... Well. He is not well-wrapped, even I can tell that, and I'm no Mind-Healer.”