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After several years of this odd training, Stardance was just old enough for her Mage Gift to truly begin to develop into its full power and potential. Now, though, the Storms had come and gone, and magic was no longer the same. The Heartstones were weakened or empty, their accumulated power drained to maintain the last desperate shields over the Vales, to save the people within them. Outside, caught in a Change Circle, Triska had not been so fortunate.

Winternight stood, and respectful silence fell. The Storms had aged him so that his usual pallor now seemed ghostlike, his energy spent and drained from him just as the once-vibrant Heartstone was now emptied of all but the faintest flickers of magic. His staff, once used to help him direct his considerable power, now served only to provide physical support, and he leaned heavily on it.

“We do not yet know the extent of damage in our own region of the Pelagiris, much less that of the other Vales,” he said, in response to several questioners. “Only the strongest Farspeakers have been able to communicate with them. Our scouts have been taking care of Change-Beasts as they have found them, but our perimeter of safety is much closer to the Vale than ever it was.” He paused to emphasize the reality of the damage done and the isolation of their Vale, off on a western edge of the Pelagiris.

“I propose that we send Mages out with our border patrols and scouts, one Mage with a group of two or three trained fighters. The Mages can begin to assess the extent of the damage to the magical energy around the Vale and help guide Silverheart’s efforts to Heal it. If they encounter Change-Creatures, the Mages will also recognize which might be more than physical threats.”

“What of the students?” someone asked. “Even if all the magic is gone, what should they be doing? We can’t send them out to the perimeters!” An immediate babble followed—some in favor of utilizing every resource the Vale had, others insisting that those who were not confirmed Mages should not even attempt to use magic until the lasting effects of the Storms were completely known.

Winternight raised his hand, and the din drifted back to quiet. “The students will not go to the outer perimeters, but every bit of help is needed.” He paused again. “They will work within the areas where the scouts have already passed at least once, where they are not likely to encounter Change-Beasts. They will be searching these areas for trace magics, studying any changes in patterns, looking for subtle echoes of power.” A few more questions, these from some of the instructors, and Winternight gathered those few around him for private conference.

Stardance shook her head and shifted backward, edging away from the group and drifting between the trees, headed for her too-empty ekele. She did not dare defy the direct command of the Elders that all the Mage-talented and trained of k’Veyas attend the meeting, but she had chosen to stand in a half-hidden spot on the outskirts of the assembly. It is all folly, anyway, she thought bitterly. Of what use were they, now that the magic had disappeared? What good was anything now that Triska was—she shut down the thought before she could complete it, returning to her anger to cover the aching void inside her. What good was magic, anyway? After all, it had been a centuries-gone excess of magic that had caused this nightmare. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned. Maybe their Shin’a’in cousins had the right of it—maybe it was time they did without magic entirely.

She was almost out of view, almost free, when a gentle but firm hand fell on her shoulder.

“You, too, will take part in the search tomorrow.” Windwhisperer’s voice, though quiet, was implacable.

“What would be the point? There’s nothing left!” Hostile resentment lashed through her words.

“We don’t know that for certain. But we need to find out.”

“I can’t be what you want,” she muttered to the ground, unsure what the words meant even as she said them.

“What would you be, then?” That quiet voice held no anger, no demand. She turned to look at him. The Elder’s face was as still as his words, giving her no impression of his thoughts.

She shifted away, her eyes dropping again. “Once, I might have known. Now, there’s no point. It doesn’t matter.” She thought briefly of Triska’s cave, of working with the richly colored fibers and fabrics, creating beauty with functionality, and sharp loneliness arced pain through her heart before she shuttered her face. “Why go out there when it won’t change anything?”

“Perhaps it won’t. Or perhaps it could.” The silence between them lengthened. “Out there, it may be that you could find an answer to my question.” She heard a faint shushing, like a breeze lifting the wide leaves outside her ekele, and she looked up once more, only to find herself alone on the sanded path.

When morning came, Stardance found herself walking beyond the borders of the Vale, one of the first group of students assigned to a small section of the “safer” areas. Just as the confirmed Mages were partnered with experienced scouts and patrols, the students, too, were accompanied by younger fighters. Stardance was the youngest student in the group traveling to the east of the Vale, and the simmering resentment in the oldest scout trainee was palpable as he paced near her. Clearly, he felt that he belonged in the unexplored places, not in the safe areas with the students.

“You don’t need to babysit me,” she finally snapped, knowing she sounded like a petulant child but not really caring. “If you want to go farther out, my Kir will let your bird know if I need assistance.”

The scout, barely five summers older than she, gave her an odd look, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he allowed a little more space to drift between them, no longer matching his steps to hers but lengthening his stride until he moved first beyond her view, then beyond her hearing. She shrugged. If he went too far and found something he couldn’t handle, he would deserve it. He was good enough, at least, that it had taken only moments for her to not be able to hear him. No longer distracted by his angry presence, she frowned and returned her attention to her own task.

The area she was to inspect was a rough wedge shape, curving outward from the Vale between a stand of large pines and a meadowed area and along the cliff edge that dropped down to the stream that would eventually join the Anduras. Pacing the approximate borders, using her Mage Sight to look for magical signatures or unusual tracks of anything the scouts might have missed, Stardance felt her frustration mount. It’s just useless makework , she thought angrily. There’s nothing out here--they just want to keep us busy until they can figure out what to do next. I don’t know why we’re even bothering. Even so, she continued with her task.

At first, Kir had flown overhead, helping her keep track of where her wedge overlapped with segments being examined by the other students; their bondbirds were in the air for the same purpose. After she had finished the first circuit of her area and started a closer inspection of the inside of the wedge, she gave Kir permission to land.

For several candlemarks, Stardance combed the forest, starting at the outer border of her space and spiraling inward until she reached the landmarks of the clearing that was the last, central piece of the area she was assigned to. She heard only the natural sounds of the forest, although as she neared the edges of her wedge she sometimes heard mutterings from the other students or scouts. At one point, she looked up to see the scout’s goshawk bondbird lazily coasting overhead, but she neither saw nor heard any trace of the young man himself.

After another candlemark of pushing through brush and finding nothing of more concern than small rodents, Stardance stood in the small clearing that marked the “point” of her wedge. Releasing her Mage Sight with a sigh of relief, she loosened her water skin from her belt and took a drink.