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sick—sort of empty and hollow inside."
"Please try," Uzun pleaded, "for my sake, if not for hers. If I could still scry,
I'd do it myself."
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"For your sake, Uzun, I'll try it." Mikayla pulled the small sphere out of the
front of her tunic. I don't have the energy to go find a proper scrying
bowl, and if I can scry at all, I can do it with this . "I still think it was
rotten of her to make you blind."
For the first time, Uzun didn't argue with her or automatically leap to
Haramis's defense. He just sat there quietly while Mikayla stared into the
sphere, focusing beyond the reflected firelight.
She was standing in the playroom in the Citadel's old tower, staring out the
window toward Mount Brom. It was dark, except for a candle on the floor
behind her, and the sound of rain pouring down outside the window
explained why there was nothing much to see outside. And there was only one
person who was likely to be in the playroom.
"Fiolon?" she whispered.
"Mikayla?" Fiolon's voice whispered back. "Are you all right?"
Suddenly she was fine. Her head didn't hurt, her stomach didn't hurt, and the
empty feeling inside was gone—except for the fact that now she was
hungry and very much aware of the fact that she hadn't eaten anything since
breakfast.
"Yes, I'm all right now," she said. "How about you?"
"It just stopped hurting," he replied. "Does this mean that we've reestablished
our bond?"
"I think so," she said, turning to the harp. "Uzun, all of a sudden Fiolon and I
don't hurt anymore. Does this mean that our bond is back?"
"Yes, it does," Uzun answered.
"Hey! I can hear him!" Fiolon exclaimed.
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"Good," Uzun said. "Listen carefully, then. You established the bond in the
first place by spending a lot of time together, didn't you?"
"Just about every waking moment for seven years," Fiolon confirmed.
"And even when Haramis tried to separate you, you both tried to stay
together: you thought about each other often, and you tried to far-speak each
other—and succeeded, am I not right?"
"You're right," Mikayla admitted.
"So it would take a lot of effort to break such a bond. Even were it not a strong
one, even if you did not both possess much magic—
"We do?" Mikayla gasped. "I mean, I know Fiolon has talent in that direction,
but me?"
"Yes, both of you. But even if you did not, the bond would be hard to break
because it has been in existence for so many years.
If both of you wished to break it, and you both worked at it, you could
probably get rid of most of it within a month or two, although it would still
probably reactivate in emergencies. If only one of you wished to break it, it
would take at least a season or two of hard work—more if the other
person was fighting your attempts."
"Does this mean that Haramis can't break it?" Mikayla asked hopefully.
"Against both your wills?" Uzun said dryly. "I very much doubt it."
"She certainly can't do anything about it at the moment," Fi-olon said. "I'll bet
she can't even tell that it's back."
"What happened to her?" Uzun asked anxiously. "I knew something had gone
badly wrong!"
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"I'm sorry, Uzun," Fiolon said. "I know you're fond of her— and the
healers do think she'll recover in time," he added hastily. "But she had some
type of brainstorm this morning. I missed part of it; I was writhing on the
floor in pain at the time, but she collapsed, and she can't move the left side of
her body at all, and she can't summon the lammergeiers—she wanted
to send you a message, Uzun—and it's hard to understand when she
tries to talk because only half her mouth moves." He paused, then added, "I
can call the lammergeiers, but I was afraid that would only upset her more,
and she's already really upset with me."
"Who's taking care of her?" Uzun asked anxiously.
"Ayah, mostly, and some healers from the Greenmire. They're giving her
swamp-worm venom to thin her blood and keep it from blocking off more of
her brain. They seem to think that a lot of the damage can be reversed, that
she'll be able to move her left side and walk again and so forth."
"What about her magical abilities?" Mikayla asked.
Fiolon shrugged. "At the moment she doesn't seem to have any. And nobody
knows whether they'll come back. Uzun, does that mean that Mikayla is the
Archimage now !"
"Oh, no!" Mikayla exclaimed. "I'm not nearly ready to be Archimage!"
Uzun considered the question. "Probably not," he said finally. "If the power
had passed to Mikayla, she'd know it. We'll just have to wait and see what
happens."
"What do you mean 'if the power had passed to Mikayla'?" Fiolon asked.
"Would Mikayla automatically become Archimage if Haramis died?"
"Yes," Uzun replied, "assuming, of course, that Haramis is right in thinking
that Mikayla is her proper successor. If she's wrong, the power would pass to
whomever it was supposed to go to."
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"You mean somebody else could wind up as Archimage and we wouldn't even
know it?" Mikayla asked.
"In theory it is possible, but it is highly unlikely," Uzun said firmly. "I'm
pretty sure that you are meant to succeed her, Mikayla."
"Uzun? What happens to you if Haramis dies?" Mikayla asked. "I mean, if she
made you into a harp by a spell and extended your life beyond its normal span
by her will and her actions, do you die when she does?" Mikayla, feeling very
insecure all of the sudden, crawled over to Uzun and put an arm around his
forepillar. "Do you know anything about the spell she used on you?"
"It's in a book in the library," Uzun said. "You can look it up tomorrow. Right
now, young lady, you can eat something and get a good night's sleep. You're
no good to yourself or anyone else in the shape you're in. And as for you, Lord
Fiolon," he added, "have you eaten anything today?"
"Not since breakfast," Fiolon said. "First I was in too much pain, and then
everyone was fussing over the Lady Haramis, and I just wanted to be alone, so
I came here—
"Where is 'here'?" Uzun broke in.
"Here?" Fiolon echoed him. "Oh, that's right, you can't see. I'm sorry. Here is
the old guard barracks at the top of the Tower. You and Princess Haramis [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]