Arrow’s Flight by Mercedes Lackey Page A

harness.”
    Supper was rather subdued; nearly everyone had long since eaten and gone, and of those that were left Talia really knew only Keren well. Talia kept glancing around her, realizing how much she was going to miss this place, that had been her first real home.
    She had expected that Keren would leave her afterward, but to her surprise, the older woman insisted that she come with her to Keren’s rooms. She was even more surprised when Keren insisted Talia precede her through the door.
    Then she saw who was waiting for them there; almost more people than would fit into the room: Elcarth, Sherri, Jeri, Skif, Teren—even Alberich. Devan made a brilliant patch of green among the Whites in his Healer’s robes; the students were well represented by Elspeth. Keren pushed her into the room from behind as she hesitated on the threshold.
    “You really didn’t think we’d let you go without a proper good-bye, did you?” Skif teased as Talia stared in dumb amazement. “Besides, I know you—you were all set to mope away your last night here alone. Goose! Well, we’re not having any of that!”
    Since that was exactly what she’d expected to be doing, Talia blushed rose-pink, then stuck her tongue out at him.
    Skif, knowing very well how prone Talia was to isolating herself just when she needed others the most, had accosted Keren as soon as the news of Talia’s assignment had gotten to him. The two of them had put their heads together and quickly put together this little “fare-thee-well” party, designed to keep her from falling into a last-minute melancholy. When Skif saw the expression on Talia’s face as she’d realized what they’d done, he felt more than repaid for his effort.
    He did his level best the whole evening to project how much his “little sister” meant to him, knowing she’d pick it up. The warmth in her eyes made him feel that he’d at least begun to give her an honest return for the help she’d given him last night. In some ways he was just as glad now that they’d never become lovers, for there was nothing that could have been more satisfying, in the long run, than the open, loving relationship they had instead. He had more than a suspicion that she felt the same. “So, songbird, how about a tune or three?” While it wasn’t precisely as festive as the celebration the night before had been, everything had been geared to setting her mind at rest and making her feel confident about the morrow. Each of them, with the exception of Devan and Elspeth, had faced the same moment—and each knew some way to make the prospect a positive one. There was a great deal of laughter, plenty of absurd stories, and a palpable aura of caring. They sent her off to bed in good time to get a full night’s sleep, and she left with a smile on her face.
    Kris answered the tap on his door late that evening, expecting to see Dirk; in fact, he’d already gotten out a bottle of wine and two glasses, figuring that his partner wouldn’t let the evening pass without coming by for a farewell drink and chat. He got a fair shock to find his uncle, the Councilor Lord Orthallen, standing in the dim hallway instead.
    He managed to stammer out a surprised greeting, which Orthallen took as an invitation to enter. The silver-haired, velvet-robed noble wore a grave expression on his still-handsome, square-jawed face, so Kris had more than a faint suspicion that his visit was not just to bid farewell to his nephew.
    He directed his uncle to the most comfortable chair in the room and supplied him with the glass of wine intended for Dirk before taking the chair opposite him.
    “Well, uncle?” he said, deciding he was too tired to dance diplomatically around the subject. “What brings you here? I know it wasn’t just to bid me a fond farewell.”
    Orthallen raised one eyebrow at his bluntness. “I understand you have the new Queen’s Own as your internee.”
    Kris shrugged. “It’s no secret.”
    “How well do you know