"I'm not looking for a lifebond," Silverfox said firmly. "I would much, much rather have someone who loved me out of pure attraction or simple affection than have someone who couldn't help loving me. So far as I can see, the difference between being in love and being lifebonded is rather like the difference between doing something because you want to and doing it because someone came along and put a geas on you to compel you to do it. You might have wanted to do it anyway, but the notion of being compelled to it makes me very uncomfortable." He uttered a dry chuckle. "No—not uncomfortable; it makes me very rebellious. Quite frankly, if I met my lifebonded, I would try to fight the compulsion just because it was a compulsion. And I would insist that something more than a compulsion held us together."
"I can't see that." Firesong shook his head. "Lifebonded mates are so devoted to one another, so bound up with each other, it seems the perfect way of life to me. Being lifebonded means there are no misunderstandings, no jealousies, no incompatibilities; none of the things that cause so many problems in ordinary relationships—"
But Silverfox was chuckling in earnest now, as if he had said something very amusing. "Who told you there were no misunderstandings, no incompatibilities? Did you read it somewhere? Do you know any lifebonded couples intimately enough to say that with authority? Believe me, I've had life bonded couples as clients in the past, and they have their share of both those things. The only difference between them and ordinary couples is that if they don't resolve problems quickly, they're going to suffer far more agony of spirit than you or I would."
"That sounds like an advantage to me," Firesong retorted stubbornly.
"Huh." Silverfox did not seem to have a response to that statement. "You seem very sure of that."
"I am." Firesong was not going to back down on this "And I can't see where 'agony of spirit' is any worse than fires of jealousy. I'd say a person would be better off if he forced to reconcile differences; I think it's better for two people to be impelled to fix things between them than for or suffer heartache while the other goes off blithely about business without a care in the world. That would make a great deal more even-handed," he finished grimly.
"Now that was certainly stated with conviction," the kestra'chern observed. "I might almost suspect you've found yourself suffering the slung shot of jealousy a time or two."
"Enough," Firesong replied cautiously. "Enough to know it's probably one of the most poisonous of emotions, and it encourages obsession. How is being so obsessed with someone that you can't get your mind on your work any better than being forced to be compatible?"
Silverfox moved his ministrations to below Firesong's shoulder blades. "You have a point. Certainly for some people it would make getting one's work done much easier. Obsession is a fairly ugly condition, and as you said, it is poisonous. It tends to warp one's outlook."
"And it is one that is hard to cure." Firesong winced as Silverfox's fingers encountered a particularly knotted muscle.
"So that is what is depressing you? Loneliness, jealousy, and obsession?" Silverfox sighed. "That is a combination sufficient to depress anyone, even at the height of summer and with all going well. Given the current situation, I marvel you are getting anything accomplished. I am not certain I would."
When did I admit that I was obsessed? Firesong caught himself, keeping himself from saying anything further. Silverfox was the most persuasive person that Firesong had ever encountered, not excluding Herald Talia. This was not the first time that the kestra'chern had managed to maneuver him into admitting something he had not intended to.
And despite the fact that he was anything but a nuisance, Silverfox had been doing a remarkable job of somehow being present whenever Firesong contemplated a little trip over to the Palace and the Heartstone for another visit to Falconsbane's Sanctuary. If Silverfox had been anything other than what he was, Firesong would have been dying to get rid of him by now, and he would have considered the kestra'chern to be a prime nuisance.
As it was, every time the kestra'chern turned up so very inconveniently, he managed to change the encounter into something pleasant, enjoyable. His timing was amazing; too coincidental to be an accident, but how did he know? How could he know? And he never made anything so obvious as an outright interception; he was just there when Firesong's thoughts turned grim, striking a casually provocative pose, or flirting cheerfully with him.
This was not the first time that he'd gotten Firesong to confess things to him, but this was the first time he'd coaxed the conversation into the dangerous grounds of emotional obsession, jealousy, and anger. This was very dangerous ground, in fact, since it might lead to other deductions.
Firesong restrained growing anger—not at Silverfox, but at the impossible, intolerable situation.
"It doesn't matter; there's nothing I can do about the situation, so I might as well just endure it with proper Tayledras stoicism," he lied, trying to steer things off that precarious ground and hide his own feelings.
"Ah, but it does matter," Silverfox countered. "You are a mage, and as such, your control is dependent on your emotional state. As a Healer-with-knives should not practice when his hands are unsteady, a mage should not practice when his nerves are unsteady. You know that well enough to teach it!"
Firesong's muscles knotted again under Silverfox's hands, betraying his temper to the kestra'chern. "I do know that, and my nerves are steady enough," he replied, "I know what I'm doing. And to tell the truth, at the moment my skills are not needed anyway."
"Oh, my friend," Silverfox sighed, releasing him. "Your body tells me a different story." He slid around to his former position, and his expression was dead sober. "The chiefest language of the kestra'chern is that of emotion; his chiefest skill is in the matters of the heart rather than of the mind or spirit; we leave the former to the Scholar and the latter to the Priest. That is what we do, but there comes a point when we cannot do our work without cooperation."
Instead of getting off that dangerous ground, they were now firmly atop it. Firesong feigned incomprehension and stifled alarm. "Why would you need my cooperation for anything more than you already have?"
But Silverfox frowned. "You already know the answer to that question. I do not know all, by any means, but I do know a few things. You are lonely and profoundly unhappy here, you live in a bower built for two but you are alone in it, you tense with anger when Karal and the artificers are mentioned, you tense with pain when An'desha's name comes up. Your heart and your mind must of necessity reflect both your heart and body. Even an apprentice in my art could put those facts in their proper order."
"What, is that all you have deduced?" Firesong retorted, more sharply than he had intended.
Silverfox looked directly into his eyes with unveiled candor. "There is more, but those are the things I can do something about, and only if you will talk about them."
"Oh, you can, can you?" Firesong hoisted himself up out of the pool abruptly, wrapping himself in an enveloping robe so that his body would not betray his thoughts any further.