In a very few minutes Vilkas stood, unsteady on his feet but whole. He put his long arms about Aral, gently and awkwardly, holding her tight against his chest. "Thank you," he said simply.
I knew what she was thinking, I could almost hear her. I knew she would have given worlds for Vilkas to stay like that forever, close in her arms, but she knew too well the nature of that embrace and she wanted his love as well. For all the depth of the bond between them, for all that they had just now saved one another's lives, she knew the embrace was friendship and gratitude and nothing more. Even I could tell as much from afar. I swear I could almost hear her.
Or perhaps it was the beginnings of delirium, for I was badly wounded myself and the poison of demon wounds works swiftly. Vilkas, seeing me waver, left Aral instantly and sent healing to me himself. Drat you, Vilkas, I remember thinking as I leaned against a tree for support for the second time in an hour, if you can't love her, for Shia's sake, you could at least have let her heal me so 1 could hold her too.
Healing leaves Healer and patient both weary. We staggered back to the road. There was no longer any concern about Gair recognising me. None of us cared. We were desperate for a place to stop and to rest, and we had three hours at least of walking still to do. We took it slow, and Vil and Aral took it in turns to keep their power called about them and ready. The shadows of afternoon began to lengthen and the clear air grew cooler. Aral stumbled. "Damnation, I'm tired," she muttered. "Goddess, somebody start talking so I can think about something apart from sleep and demons while I'm walking."
She turned to Vilkas. He shrugged. "Nothing to say."
"You're so helpful, Vilkas." She turned to me. "You've usually got some kind of tale to tell, Will. Who is Gair, then, how do you know him?"
"Do you care?" I asked, managing to smile.
"No, but if you don't talk to me I'm going to fall over and we need to get to Wolfenden."
"True enough. But Gair's no subject, trust me. Even older than I am and never been five miles from his doorstep. I do indeed have a story, and a true one, that you two should hear, as we're going to that inn." Vilkas glanced at me with one dark brow raised. Aral was delighted. "But there's a price," I said seriously. "To be paid before I tell my tale."
"Name it. Unto half my kingdom," said Aral, grinning. "Of course, my kingdom at the moment consists of the clothes I stand up in and they wouldn't fit you, so I'm fairly safe."
"That's what you think," I said. I couldn't help grinning back at her. "Do I get to choose which half?"
"Will!" she exclaimed, batting at my arm. "And here I thought you were a gentleman." She laughed. "Though it might be worth it to see you in skirts!"
"You're not wearing skirts, idiot," said Vilkas dryly.
"Trust you to miss the point," she said, with a loud sigh. "But come, Will, your price?"
"The answer to a question."
"Ask."
I turned to Vilkas. "Why?"
"Why what?" he said, striding along unperturbed. "And I do not recall volunteering to pay your price, Aral."
"Oh, Vil, it won't kill you. I need a story badly."
"Very well," he said with a sigh. "Why what, Will?"
"Why did you not use your power back there?" I asked. "Berys obviously fears your strength, Aral tells me every few moments what a great mage you are—"
"Liar," came Aral's voice. We both ignored her.
"I've seen you doing things half-asleep that most of the Magistri couldn't do the best day they lived. Why did Aral have to do all the work when those demons attacked? You could barely defend yourself."
"Ah," he said. "You noticed."
"It was hard to miss, Vil. A bloody great horde of demons land on you like a flock of starlings on a seed store and Aral does all the work!" I said. I gazed steadily at him in the late-afternoon light.
"What is it, Vilkas? Why could you not disperse those demons?"
He turned away from my gaze. "You tell him, Aral," he said. "I need to stretch my legs. You both walk so damned slow." He changed his gait, and between one step and another he was walking twice as fast as he had been before, his hands behind his back, his face set in a scowl. I watched him distance himself from us with a certain surprise.
"Don't worry, Will. It makes him furious that there's something he can't do," said Aral softly. "In every other task we've ever tried his power is astounding, but he can't disperse even the least of the Rikti. Lady help us if we ever have to face the Rakshasa. More to the point, Lady help me."
"What happens when he tries?" I asked. I was amazed. I had thought Vil could do anything.
"I—um. I don't know," she said, worried. "He's never been able to do as much as try since I've known him. He just won't. When I asked him about it he didn't answer and he didn't speak to me again for a week. When I finally saw him again he tried to tell me, but he wasn't using words very well and what he did say didn't make sense."
"Vilkas not using words well?" I snorted. "That's not possible. When did this happen?"
"Not long after we'd met. About a year and a half ago, I'd say."
"Then he's had enough of a rest and it's time someone asked again," I said decisively, and took off after Vilkas. It took a bit of effort but I caught him up. Most of his height is in his legs, the man walks as fast as most folk run.
"You can't run away from it, you know," I said firmly.
"I was taking the opportunity to walk at my normal speed rather than the snail's pace you two keep. I am not running from anything."
"Liar," I said loudly. That stopped him in his tracks, but it stopped me as well. The look on his face was the blank wall I'd fought so long to break through. It meant I must have hurt him very badly indeed.
"Vilkas, I'm sorry," I said. "You know I don't mean it. But if you can't even speak about your failure with the Rakshi you will never overcome it. It won't go away for being ignored, you know. And you have made a powerful enemy whose chief weapons are demons. You have to think about this."
He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again the wall was gone. I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding. Being a friend to Vilkas was never easy.
"Once," he said as Aral caught up with us. "I'll tell you this once." He glanced from Aral to me. "Come, let us be moving," he said. "There's a long way to go yet and I would gladly maim for a beer."
We returned to a pace that Aral could keep up with while Vilkas collected his thoughts. The day was fading slowly from the sky, but there was enough yet of twilight for us all to see each other.
"It happened many years ago," he began. Aral tried to say something, but he stopped her. "Later. Just listen. I was barely ten winters old but I was already working with the Healer in my town, learning what I could. I knew even then that I was damned good and a lot stronger than he was, and I was very sure of myself. Then an old woman came in demon-touched and asked us to help rid her of the taint." He stood up straighter as he walked, as if he were having to literally face up to the memory. "Sandrish thought I could use practice on demons, so he showed me what to do and let me loose. I sent my power into the poor soul, and since the very idea of demons has always sickened me I poured my heart and soul into the healing. I put everything I had into it, hard and fast."
Aral gasped and I heard her whispering "Goddess, no. Oh, Vil, no." Vilkas ignored her. "The woman started screaming, so I tried even harder. She stopped screaming almost instantly." His teeth came together with a click. Neither Aral nor I dared say a word. We hardly dared breathe. Vilkas's tale was like a blow with a club.