The Mage of Trelian (23 page)

Pela took her time, snipping carefully, but eventually she stood back and nodded, satisfied. She brought Meg the mirror.

Pela had cut her hair short all the way around. It was longer in the front than in the back, but somehow that didn’t look as strange as Meg would have guessed. The longest pieces came just about down to her nose. The shortest pieces, in the back, were barely half an inch in length. She tilted her head, taking a good look. She rather liked it, she thought. It’s not something she ever would have chosen if not for the burning, but she liked it.

She looked up at Pela. “You’ve done a lovely job,” she said. “Truly. I might just decide to keep it this way!”

Pela blushed and retrieved the mirror. “You are very kind, Princess. Of course it will grow back in time, but I do think you look just as pretty with short hair as with long.” She helped Meg back into bed, pushed the tray of food suggestively closer again, then turned away and busied herself with collecting her scissors and other supplies.

When the next knock came at the door, it was Serek, accompanied by Anders and Medic Sadie.

“Princess!” Anders exclaimed before Serek could open his mouth. “You’ve survived! And gotten a haircut!”

“It would appear so,” Meg said, smiling.

Serek approached and asked permission to look at her injuries. Medic Sadie assisted him in unwrapping the bandages, and he studied her shoulder and thigh with a thoughtful expression. “These are healing nicely,” he said. “I can help them along a little, though, if you would like?”

“Yes, please,” Meg said. “Anything to get me out of this bed faster!”

The medic frowned at that, but she didn’t object. Serek placed a hand on her shoulder and seemed to concentrate; Meg felt a strange surge of . . . something, and then the little pain that had been there was gone. After a moment, Serek repeated the process with her thigh.

“You’ll still have a bit of scarring, I’m afraid,” he said. “And you should still stay off your leg as much as possible for at least the next few days. Your arm is set very well — I’m inclined to leave that to heal naturally, I think. With broken bones, accelerating the healing with magic can sometimes be less clean in the end.”

“Yes, of course, whatever you think is best,” Meg said. She felt a little winded from the healing of her shoulder and thigh. She thought she was all right with not having him do that to her arm just now, too.

Anders had wandered over to the bedside table. “
The Sweetest Dark of Midnight!
” he exclaimed, picking up one of the books. “I love this story!”

Everyone ignored him, except Pela, who beamed at him with approval.

“Medic, I’d like a word alone with the mages, please,” Meg said.

The woman frowned again, but obediently collected her things and left.

“All right,” Meg said once the door had closed behind her. “When is Calen coming home?”

The mages looked at each other. Meg sighed in exasperation. If she’d had full use of her arms, she would have throttled them.

“Just tell me!”

“Tonight,” Serek said. “We hope.”

“Tonight!” Meg exclaimed. “But that’s wonderful!”

“Yes,” Anders agreed. “Unless it all goes horribly wrong.”

Now it was Serek’s turn to sigh in exasperation. “We don’t expect it to go horribly wrong,” he said. “But it’s a dangerous plan, and so, yes, there is always the chance that something will happen.”

“What is the plan?” Meg asked at once.

“Do you remember when Calen transported you and himself to . . . well, wherever you went after Sen Eva tried to . . .”

Meg looked at him. “Did you think I could forget?”

“Ah. No. Of course not,” Serek said. “Well, he’s going to use a similar spell to transport himself back here.”

“He can do that?” Meg asked, surprised. “Why didn’t he just do that in the first place?”

“He needed to make sure there was a safe place to transport to,” Serek said. He explained briefly about the dangers of transporting oneself into a space already occupied by a thing or a person. By the time he was finished, Pela looked more than a little green.

“But — but you’ve worked it out,” Meg said. “So there will be a safe place?”

“Yes. We’re using his room. It’s a place he knows well, of course, and can envision clearly, and that will help. And it will be unlikely that anyone would be in there unexpectedly.”

“Make sure that horrible gyrcat isn’t around,” Meg said at once. Serek looked startled. Anders looked thoughtful, then excused himself. They could hear him out in the hallway after a moment, softly calling, “Here, Lyrimon!”

Meg looked at Serek, confused. “I thought you said it wasn’t happening until tonight.”

“Yes,” Serek said. “Midnight. But no matter how carefully you make a plan, there is always the chance of last-minute . . . complications. So we want to make sure the room is kept clear, just in case. I admit we’d forgotten about Lyrimon. That would, ah, not be good. If he were there.”

“I should think not!” Meg said. “All right. I’m coming down there, of course.”

“There’s no need —” Serek began, but Meg cut him off.

“You know that you can not possibly keep me away,” she said.

He hesitated, then nodded. “That’s probably true,” he said. “All right. But you must stay back where we tell you. No arguing.”

“I understand,” she said.

When Serek left, Pela came over to sit beside Meg on the bed. “It will be a great relief to have Calen back,” Pela said.

“Yes,” Meg agreed. “But . . . I’m not sure how I’m going to get down there. Do you think you could help me walk that far?”

“No,” Pela said at once. “You can’t. You’re supposed to stay off your leg.”

“But —”

“Don’t worry,” Pela said. “I’ll think of something.”

In the end, Pela’s plan was not a very pleasing one. About two hours before midnight, Wilem returned to Meg’s room. He came in, looked at Pela, sighed, and then looked at Meg apologetically.

“If you’ll permit me, Princess,” he said. “Pela has asked that I help you get down to the mages’ quarters.”

“I will be very grateful for your help,” Meg said. “But how?”

“I’m afraid it won’t be very dignified,” he said. “Or comfortable.”

It wasn’t. He had Pela help her stand up, and then, with one more apology, he picked her up and hoisted her as gently as he could over his shoulder. Meg squawked in protest, but both Wilem and Pela assured her that this would be the quickest way. She subsided, but she could feel her face burning a fiery red. She just hoped that no one saw them. And that his leg was truly fully healed. Pela walked ahead to clear the halls of anyone who might still be wandering around, just in case.

Wilem was breathing rather heavily when he deposited her in a chair in Serek’s study. Meg didn’t blame him. She was impressed that he’d been able to carry her that far. She guessed he’d gotten fairly strong while training with the soldiers, but still.

“If you need help getting back,” he said, “just have Pela send for me.”

“I would invite you to stay, but . . .”

Wilem shook his head. “It’s not my place to be here for this. I know. Just send for me if I can help you again.”

Anders watched him leave. “Such a nice boy,” he said. “And so handsome!”

Serek was standing outside the door to Calen’s room. If it were anyone else, Meg would have said he was hovering anxiously.

“Where’s Lyrimon?” Meg asked.

“Safe with your sister,” Anders said. “We told her it was very important that he stay with her tonight. It should be all right. I think Lyrimon was actually purring when I left.”

“Lyrimon doesn’t purr,” Serek said irritably.

“Not for you, apparently,” Anders said, winking at Meg.

Meg nodded, satisfied. Then she settled in to wait. Pela sat down next to her and took her hand. Meg didn’t expect anything to happen for some time yet, but it was only a few minutes before Serek straightened suddenly and said, “Something’s happening.”

There was an odd sound, almost like someone shouting from a great distance, and a strange sort of pressure in the air.

Serek rushed forward into Calen’s room. Anders was two steps behind. Meg lurched to her feet, ignoring Pela’s protests, and limped as fast as she could after them, injury be cursed.

When she got to the door, Serek was kneeling on the floor. Calen was there, sitting very still, his head in his hands.

“Calen,” Serek was saying. “Are you all right?” He had to ask twice before Calen responded.

“No,” Calen said finally. He lifted his head, and Meg gasped. He looked . . . different. Older. And — and so sad. There were tears running down his face.

“Calen,” she said. “Calen, what —?”

“It’s all right,” Serek said. His voice was more gentle than Meg ever would have imagined possible. “You’re safe now, son. You made it back.”

“I know,” Calen said. “But it’s not all right.” He looked around at them, but Meg didn’t think he was really seeing them. His face . . . his face was
haunted,
she thought. That was the word for it. Haunted and full of pain.

“What did he do to you?” Meg asked softly. She wanted to go toward him, wanted to touch him, to make sure he was real, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She was afraid he might disappear again if she did.

His eyes found hers, and now he seemed to see her, but there was no sense of recognition or relief in his expression that she could see.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Oh, gods.”

Then he put his head in his hands again. And stayed that way for a long time.

C
ALEN WASN’T SURE HOW LONG HE
stayed there, sitting on the floor of his room, Serek kneeling silently beside him. He knew they were waiting for him to talk to them, to tell them what had happened, to be glad that he was back. But all he could see was Helena’s face in his mind; all he could hear was her voice screaming at him to
go, go right now!
And then the sound of her dying as he fled like a coward.

You couldn’t have saved her,
the voice in his head tried to tell him. But how did it know? What if he could have? He didn’t even try!

He wondered if he could just stay here forever, not moving. Not thinking.

Is that what you let her die for? For you to give up now?

And there could be only be one answer to that. Calen forced himself to sit back, raising his head.

Serek was gone. So was Anders and whoever else might have been there when he arrived.

Except Meg.

She was sitting beside him. Not touching him, just sitting close by.

“Hi,” she said when he looked at her.

“Hi,” he said back. He blinked. “You cut your hair.”

“Oh,” she said, reaching up to touch it. “Yes. I had to. Half of it was burned away by a flaming catapult missile. Pela was beside herself.”

“It looks nice.”
Flaming catapult missile?
“I guess things have been happening here, too, huh? Are you okay?”

She shrugged, then winced. “Ow. But yes. Mostly. I was injured a little, but I’ll heal. Jakl and I helped win a big battle with Lourin. They were preventing the Kragnir soldiers from coming to help us. They’re not anymore.”

“Did they just surrender as soon as they saw you were coming for them?” Calen asked, smiling. Gods, he’d missed this. Just talking.

She smiled back. “Not quite. But a whole lot of them surrendered when they saw what Jakl wanted to do to them after they hurt me.” She paused, then added, almost reluctantly, “We almost had them before that, though. Jakl and I were taking out all the catapults, and the Trelian soldiers were winning. But then they got me.” She paused again, her smile fading. “But Calen — are
you
okay? You don’t . . . you don’t seem okay.”

His smile faded, too. “I’m not. I’m —” He almost said,
I’m not sure I’m the same person anymore.
He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it, though. “It was . . . bad over there.”

“I’m sure it was.” She seemed about to add something else, but then didn’t. Instead she took his hand. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

He didn’t like the stiff way she was moving. “How injured are you, Meg?”

“It’s not so bad, really. Burned shoulder, arrow through my thigh, broken arm, scorched ear.” She started to shrug again, then clearly thought better of it. “The field medics did a good job, and Serek healed me a little when I got home. He said it was best to let the rest heal naturally.”

“Well,
that’s
silly,” Calen said. “I can fix you right now.” He lifted his free hand and sent a swirling stream of yellow, blue, and green energy toward her, seeking out where she was hurt and willing her body to knit itself back together. She gasped, staring at him, then down at herself.

“It’s — the pain — it’s just gone. Completely. I —” She looked back up at him, eyes wide. “What did you do?”

Now it was his turn to shrug. “I healed you.”

“But Serek said —”

Serek and Anders suddenly appeared in the doorway.

“Calen,” Serek said, looking back and forth between them, “did you just —?”

“I healed her,” Calen said. “The injuries weren’t very complicated.”

Meg stood up, seeming to marvel at the way her body handled the experiment. “It’s like I was never hurt,” she said to Serek, amazed.