Why he kept shoving girls at me, why he bought me that - professional. Why he kept arranging for friends of Mother’s with compliant daughters to visit. Why he hated seeing me in fancy clothing. Why some of the armsmen would go quiet when I came by- why some of the jokes would juststop. Father didn’t even want a hint of this to get to me.
He ached inside; just ached.
I’ve lost music - no; even if Tylendel is to be trusted, I can’t take the chance. Not even on- being his friend. Ifhe didn’t turn on me, which he probably would.
All that was left was the other dream - the ice-dream. The only dream that couldn’t hurt him.
* * *
The chasm wasn’t too wide to jump, but it was deep. And there was something - terrible - at the bottom of it. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he knew it was true. Behind him was nothing but the empty, wintry ice-plain. On the other side of the chasm it was springtime. He wanted to cross over, to the warmth, to listen to bird-song beneath the trees- but he was afraid to jump. It seemed to widen even as he looked at it.
“Vanyel?”
He looked up, startled.
Tylendel stood on the other side, wind ruffling his hair, his smile wide and as warm and open as spring sunshine.
“Do you want to come over?” the trainee asked softly. He held out one hand. “I’ll help you, if you like. “
Vanyel backed up a step, clasping his arms tightly to his chest to keep from inadvertently answering that extended hand.
“Vanyel?” The older boy’s eyes were gentle, coaxing. “Vanyel, I’d like to be your friend. “ He lowered his voice still more, until it was little more than a whisper, and gestured invitingly. “I’d like,” he continued, “to be more than your friend. “
“No!” Vanyel cried, turning away violently, and running as fast as he could into the empty whiteness.
When he finally stopped, he was alone on the empty plain, alone, and chilled to the marrow. He ached all over at first, but then the cold really set in, and he couldn’t feel much of anything. There was no sign of the chasm, or of Tylendel.
And for one brief moment, loneliness made him ache worse than the cold.
Then the chill seemed to reach the place where the loneliness was, and that began to numb as well.
He began walking, choosing a direction at random. The snow-field wasn’t as featureless as he’d thought, it seemed. The flat, smooth snow-plain that creaked beneath his feet began to grow uneven. Soon he was having to avoid huge teeth of ice that thrust up through the crust of the snow - then he could no longer avoid them; he was having to climb over and around them.
They were sharp-edged; sharp as glass shards. He cut himself once, and stared in surprise at the blood on the snow. And, strangely enough, it didn’t seem to hurt
There was only the cold.
Five
Tylendel was sprawled carelessly across the grass in the garden, reading. Vanyel watched him from behindthe safety of his window curtains, half sick with conflicting emotions. The breeze was playing with the trainee’s tousled hair almost the same way it had in his dream.
He shivered, and closed his eyes. Gods. Oh, gods. Why me? Why now? And why, oh why,him? Savil’s favorite protege-
He clutched the fabric of the curtain as if it were some kind of lifeline, and opened his eyes again. Tylendel had changed his pose a little, leaning his head on his hand, frowning in concentration. Vanyel shivered and bit his lip, feeling his heart pounding so hard he might as well have been running footraces. No girl had ever been able to make his heart race like this. . . .
The thought made him flush, his stomach twisting. Gods, what am I? Like him? I must be. Father will- oh, gods. Father will kill me, lock me up, tell everyone I’ve gone mad. Maybe I have gone mad.
Tylendel smiled suddenly at something he was reading; Vanyel’s heart nearly stopped, and he wanted to cry. If only he’d smile at me that way- oh, gods, I can’t, Ican’t, I daren’t trust him, he’ll only turn on me like all the others.
Likeall the others.
He turned away from the window, invoking his shield of indifference with a sick and heavy heart.
If only I dared. If only I dared.
Savil locked the brassbound door of her own private version of the Work Room with fingers that trembled a little, and turned to face her favorite protege, Tylendel, with more than a little trepidation.
Gods. This is not going to be easy.She braced herself for what was bound to be a dangerous confrontation; both for herself and for Tylendel. She didn’t thinkhe was going to go for her throat - but - well, this time she was going to push him just a little farther than she had dared before. And there was always the chance that it would be toofar, this time.
He stood in the approximate center of the room, arms folded over the front of his plain brown tunic, expression unwontedly sober. It was fairly evident that he had already gathered this was not going to be a lesson or an ordinary discussion.
There was nothing else in this room, nothing at all. Unlike the public Work Room, this one was square, not circular; but the walls here were stone, too, and for some of the same reasons. In addition there was an inlaid pattern of lighter-colored wood delineating a perfect circle in the center of the hardwood floor. And there was an oddness about the walls, a sense of presence, as if they were nearly alive. In a way, they were; Savil had put no small amount of her own personal energies into the protections on this room. They were, in some senses, a part of her. And because of that, she should be safer here than anywhere else, if something went wrong.
“You didn’t bring me in here to practice,” Tylendel stated flatly.
Savil swallowed and shook her head. “No, I didn’t. You’re right. I wanted to talk with you; I have two subjects, really, and I don’t want anyone to have a chance at overhearing us.”
“The first subject?” Tylendel asked. “Or - I think I know. My family again.” His expression didn’t change visibly, but Savil could sense his sudden anger in the stubborn setting of his jaw.
“Your family again,” Savil agreed. “Tylendel, you’re a Herald, or nearly. Heralds do nottake sides in anyone’s fight, not even when their own blood is involved. Your people have been putting pressure on you to do something. Now Iknow you haven’t interfered - but I also know you want to. And I’m afraid that you might give in to that temptation.”
His mouth tightened and he looked away from her. “So Evan Leshara can pour his poison into the ear of anyone at Court who cares to listen - and I ‘m not allowed to do or say anything about it, is that it? I’m not even allowed to call him a damned liar for some of the things he’s said about Staven?” He pulled his gaze back to her, and glared at her as angrily as if she were the one responsible for his enemy’s behavior. “It’s more than just my blood, Savil, it’s my twin.By all he believes, by all he holds true, we’ve got blood-debt to pay here - and Staven,for all that he’s young, is the Lord Holder now. It’s his decision; the rest of us Frelennye must and willsupport him. And besides all that, he’s in the right,dammit!”