Stephanie D. Shaver - Starhaven.txt

STARHAVEN

by Stephanie D. Shaver

Stephanie Shaver is a single twenty-something living in St. Louis, Missouri. where she works as a web-master for an online games company. She's been published in various anthologies and magazines over the years, and was one of the resident writers at Marion Zimmer Bradley's home in Berkeley in the early Nineties. When she's not making soap, studying aikido, or working on websites, she's writing a book about a girl who misplaced her soul. Her official web-site is at www.sdshaver.com.



She was dying, blood trickling down her side and legs into the grass. The mage's body was a crumpled, charred mess at her feet. But?his soul?

At the instant she had killed him?the moment when she'd poured everything she had left at him?he had done the unexpected. He was tangled with her soul somehow?buried like a jagged black seed.

She was too weak to think clearly enough to destroy him. And even if she could have gotten back to the Vale?

The seed inside her. Who would it bury itself in next?

She fell to her knees, her vision dimming as she fought death with the scraped-up dredges of her strength. Her teachers had always told her she threw herself too far into what she did?but how could he not? The mage killed her daughter?and her husband?

In more ways than one, she had nothing left.

With the last of her strength she slipped the moorings of her body and plunged deep into the earth, dropping like an offering into the burning node of power beneath her?

Vess writhed in his bed, screaming.

His body was on fire?his body was fire?locked in the process of agonized immolation. He arched in pain and horror as his skin and bones melted?

And it was gone.

Vess sat up, soaked in sweat and breathing heavily. He was in a Waystation inside the village of Solmark. It was morning. He was not a woman dying alone in a forest; he was a Herald, here on business for the Crown.

That wasn't just a nightmare, he thought. That was?what the hells was that?

He was shaking as he dragged himself out of bed and dressed. He felt a curious emptiness within, as if someone had cracked open his chest and scooped out his insides.

As if a part of me just died, he thought, unsure of where the thought came from.

:Chosen?:

He paused, momentarily disoriented by Kestric's voice in his mind. :Yes?:

:Are you all right?:

He nodded. :I'm fine.:

:I felt something?a nightmare?:

:Something like one. I'll be okay. I need some air.: He straightened his collar, brushing out the front. :I need to do what I came here for.: He sucked in a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders on exhale.

:Right. After all those days of riding?to get so little rest. Are you sure you don't want to try to go back to sleep?:

:I'm sure. I don't think it'll get better with more sleep.: He rubbed the back of his neck. :It's the damn Pelagirs. I never have good dreams, this close to them.:

Vess had no illusions of being the next Windrider?his Mage-Gift, in comparison to some of the other, real Herald-Mages, was pretty pitiful?but the sliver of active Mage-Gift he did have made him sensitive to local magic. It was more a bane than a boon?it was distinctly unpleasant to be able to simultaneously see magic and be completely helpless to affect it.

His other Gifts more than made up for where the supposedly superior Mage-Gift had failed him. He was one of the strongest Mindspeakers in the Heraldic Circle?strong enough to use it as a weapon. A touch of Empathy coupled with a noble upbringing had also made him a viable member of the King's inner circle.

Viable enough that, for the last six months, he'd effectively been the King's Own, sans the title, the senseless attacks on his reputation, and Jastev, the Grove-born stallion. He'd been in that uncomfortable, ill-defined position of King's closest adviser ever since the real King's Own, Nadja, had stopped being able to get out of bed in the mornings.

Nadja...I hope you're not hurting, though I know you probably are.

:Chosen, are you dwelling?:

Vess shook his head, trying to disperse his brooding thoughts. :I am,: he said. :I should stop.: He opened the door, the cool hand of early dawn caressing his face. :Want to come along with me on my walk?:

He felt a pleasant surge of affection from Kestric?the closest the Companion could come to a hug. :As if you had to ask:

* * *

The gate to the stockade was pushed up for the day, and in the light of the new morning Vess could see now why they'd needed to gather up five men last night to get it open. It was composed of entire tree trunks planed, caulked, and lashed together to form a formidable barrier that could be dropped at a moment's notice.

The Waystation was built inside the stockade?to put it outside amid the unpredictable dangers of the Pelagirs would have been suicide. Not to mention a constant hassle. Pelagir plants grew with preternatural quickness. The Waystation would have been overcome by greenery within a few short years.

...much the way Starhaven is, he thought.

They passed out from under the cool shadow of the gate and down the road leading away from Solmark. There weren't many people about?just one girl, who waved to them as they passed by, her smock pockets stuffed with herbs?and the weather was pleasant and cool.

The quiet was as pleasant as the weather. Vess had become accustomed to living in Haven, with the daily pressure of hundreds of minds pressing on his shields. He didn't usually notice it, but out in the hinterland it was strange to not have that sense of others around him.

Just me and Kestric, he thought as he and his Companion headed down a thin, overgrown trail. What a change.

Of course, the Pelagirs had a presence all their own; something akin to a ghostly hand brushing the back of his neck. He had felt it even as a child, when his mother had sent him to Solmark to be fostered for a summer.

It had not been pleasant. And if Solmark was enough to give him nightmares, Starhaven was even worse.

As if cued?or possibly listening in on his surface thoughts? Kestric said, :So, where are you taking us? I assume you have a location in mind.:

:Starhaven,: he replied. :Or what used to be Starhaven. It was Solmark's sister town fifty years ago.: 

:..was?:

:Was until everyone in it died. I've mentioned this before, haven't I?:

:You've mentioned being fostered in Solmark, but not Starhaven.: Patterns of sunlight and shadow dappled Kestric's pure white coat as they passed under the forest's canopy. The trail, for all that it surely wasn't used regularly by anyone anymore, was in remarkably good shape, easy to discern and unbroken.

:There isn't a lot to say about Starhaven,: he said. :Even without Mage-Gift, it's disturbing to visit a place if you know over a hundred people all died at once there. One night, no signs of struggle or violence. And I would imagine that's why the adults told us not to go there.:

:And exactly why you did.:

:Of course.: He smiled. :Boys will be boys. And something was waiting for us there, in fact.: 

:"Something"?:

:As a child I thought it was a ghost, but my adult reason says it was probably just a wandering mage.: He shrugged. :He seemed amused?though I didn't realize it till months later, when I wasn't so terrified of the memory. All white robes, bleached hair with what I think were crow feathers in it?looked as much like a bird as a person.:

:Hunh.:

Kestric nodded, leaning forward in the saddle. :I think it might have been an outKingdom mage?some of them wear some strange costumes.:

:What's so strange about all white?:

Vess laughed aloud. :Aside from making me a walking target?nothing, really. Ah...the marker stone?: He looked down to where a crumbling stone lay to one side of the road, imprinted with the letters for STARHAVEN. :Here it is.:

The road emptied out into a clearing the size of Solmark. Green hulks that had once been houses shared space with saplings and tender bushes. The place was disarmingly cheery?birds sang in the trees, and there was ample sunlight.

Kestric stopped three steps "in" and turned his head about as he surveyed the scene. Vess considered dismounting, but decided against it. He didn't think they'd be staying long.

:I don't know why I picked coming here,: he said after a while. :It always struck me?the mystery and the sadness?so many people gone, without any reason, overnight.:

:You're infinitely silly, you know that?:

Vess blinked in surprise at the lighthearted tone in Kestric's mind-voice.

:I am?: he said.

:Sure you are. Vess, you're a Herald! Of course you want to know what happened here! Not that I think you'll ever know?these are the Pelagirs. Strange things happen all the time.:

He nodded. :They do, indeed. Like girls who people think are goddesses...:

:Speaking of which, we ought to go find her.: Kestric tossed his head toward the road. :Neh?:

Vess was about to give his nonverbal agreement when something pale caught the edge of his vision.

He turned his head, and there, off to one side amongst the trees that bordered the clearing, stood a pale figure in white.

For a moment Vess forgot to breathe as the vertigo-sensation of having seen this person before swept him. It was the figure from his childhood?the strange, pale man with feathers in his hair.

In the next moment, his training took over, and he unconsciously reinforced his shields while simultaneously slipping open his inner eye to look at the man with Mage-sight?

Nothing.

Not the power pulses that signaled an illusion, nor the seamless invisibility that someone with very strong and specific shields would have just wisps of gray must sprinkled with pinpricks of light.

:What the hells is that?: he yelled ...