It was a gyrefalcon; its wings beat the air for a moment before it settled, its golden eyes fixed on Starwind’s face.
The Tayledrassmoothed its head with one finger, then stared into the hawk’s eyes for a long, long time, seeming to be reading something there.
Then, without warning, he flung up his arm, launching it back into the air from his wrist. The falcon’s wings beat against the thick, damp air, then it gained height and vanished back up into the tree branches.
“Bad news?” Savil asked.
“Nay - good. The situation is not so evil as we feared. Moondance is wearied, but he shall return by sunrise.”
“I’m glad to hear something is going right for someone,” Savil replied, sighing.
“Indeed,” the Adept replied, turning those strange, unreadable eyes on Vanyel. “Indeed. Young Vanyel, I would advise you to walk about, regain your health, eat and rest. When Moondance returns and is at full strength, your schooling will begin.”
So he did as he was told to do; exploring what Starwind called “the vale” from one end to the other. It was shaped like a teardrop, and smaller than it seemed; there were so many pools and springs, waterfalls and geysers, and all cloaked in incredible greenery that effectively hid paths that came within whispering distance of each other, that it gave the illusion of being an endless wilderland.
It kept him occupied, at least. The vale was so exotic, so strange, that he could lose himself in it for hours - and forget, in watching the brightly colored birds and fish, how very much alone he was.
Half of him longed for the time - before Tylendel. The isolation of that dream-scape. The other half shrank from it. He no longer knew what he wanted, anymore, or what he was.
He certainly didn’t know what to do about Yfandes; he needed her, he loved her, but that very affection was a point of vulnerability, another place waiting to be hurt. She seemed to sense his confusion, and kept herself nearby, but not at hand, Mindspeaking only when he initiated the contact.
Savil was staying clear of him, which helped. When Moondance finally made an appearance, he made some friendly overtures, but didn’t go beyond them; Vanyel was perfectly content to leave things that way.
When he asked, the younger Tayledrasacted as a kind of guide around the vale, pointing out things Vanyel had missed, explaining how the mage-barrier kept the cold - and other things - out of the vale.
The elusive hertasinever appeared, although their handiwork was everywhere. Clothing vanished and returned cleaned and mended, food appeared at regular intervals, rooms seemed to sweep themselves.
When the vale became too familiar, Vanyel tried to catch a glimpse of them. Anything to keep from thinking.
Then he was given something else to think about.
:You fail,: Starwind said in clear Mindspeech. He was seated cross-legged on the rock of the floor beyond the glowing blue-green barrier, imperturbable as a glacier. -.Again, youngling.:
:But- : Vanyel protested from the midst of the barrier-circle the Adept had cast around him, . I- : He was having a hard time shaping his thoughts into Mindspeech.
:You,: Starwind nodded. .-Exactly so. Only you. Until you match your barrier and merge it with mine, mine will remain. And while mine remains, you cannot pass it, and I will not take you from this room.:
Vanyel drooped with weariness; it seemed that the Tayledrasmage had been schooling him, without pause or pity, for days, not mere hours. This was the seventh - or was it eighth? - such test the Adept had put him to. Starwind would go intohis head, somehow, show him what was to be done. Once. Then Vanyel fumbled his way through whatever it was. As quickly as Vanyel mastered something, the Adept sprang a trial of it on him.
There was no sign of exit or entrance in this barren, rock-walled room where he’d been taken, and no clue as to where in the complex of ground-level rooms it was. There was only Starwind, his pointed face as expressionless as the rock walls.
Vanyel didn’t know what to think anymore. These new senses of his - they told him things he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. For instance - there was something in this valley. A power - a living power. It throbbed in his mind, in time with his own pulse. He had told Savil, thinking he must be ill and imagining it. She had just nodded and told him not to worry about it.
He hadn’t asked her much, or gone to her often. If I don’t touch, I can’t be hurt again. The half-unconscious litany was the same, but the meaning was different. I’II don’t open myself, I won’t be open to loss either.
The Tayledras, Starwind and Moondance, alternately frightened and fascinated him. They were like no one he’d ever known before, and he couldn’t read them. Starwind in particular was an enigma. Moondance seemed easier to reach.
But there was always that danger. Don’t reach; don’t touch, whispered the part of him that still hurt. Don’t try.
There had been a point back at Haven when he’d tried to reach out, first to Savil, then to Lissa. He’d wanted someone to depend on, to tell him what to do, but the moment he’d tried to get them to make his decisions for him, they’d pushed him gently away.
Now - no more; all he wanted was to be left alone.
It seemed, however, that the Tayledrashad other plans.
Savil had come to get him in the morning, after several days of wandering about on his own, reminding him of what Starwind had said about being schooled in controlling these unwanted powers of his. He’d followed her through three or four rooms he hadn’t seen before into -
- something -
He wasn’t sure what it was; it had felt a little like a Gate, but there was no portal, just a spot marked on the floor. He’d stumbled across it, whatever it was, and found himself on the floor of this room, a room with no doorways.
Savil had appeared behind him, but before he could say anything, she’d just given him a troubled look, said to Starwind, “Don’t hurt him, shayana,”and left. Stepped into thin air and was gone. Left him alone with this - this madman. This unpredictable creature who’d been forcing him all morning to do things he didn’t understand, using the powers he hadn’t even come to terms with possessing, much less comprehending.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he cried, ready to weep with weariness. Starwind ignored the words as if they had never been spoken.
:Mindspeech, Chosen,: came Yfandes’ calm thought, -.That is part of his testing. Use Mindspeech.:
He braced himself, sharpened his thoughts into a kind of dagger, and flungthem at Starwind’s mind.
:Why are you DOING this to me?:
.-Gently,: came the unruffled reply. .-Gently, or I shall not answer you.:
Well, that was more than he’d gotten out of the Adept in hours. :Why?: he pleaded.
:You are a heap of dry tinder,: Starwind replied serenely. :You are a danger to yourself and those around you. It requires only a spark to send you into an uncontrolled blaze. I teach you control, so that the fires in you come when you will and where you will.: He stared at Vanyel across the shimmering mage-barrier. : Would you havethis again?:
He flung into Vanyel’s face memories that could only have come from Savil - a clutch of Herald-trainees weeping hysterically, infected with hisgrief; Mardic flying through the air, hitting the wall, and sliding down it to land in an unconscious heap; the very foundations of the Palace shaking -