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320 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1990
“How much you going to take before you crack?” “As much,” Vanyel replied deliberately, “as I have to.”
“Dearest, there is no choice. I lost my chance at choices a long time ago.”
“Vanyel Demonsbane? The Shadow Stalker? The Hero of—” “Please—” Vanyel cut her off, pleadingly. “Please, it—yes, I’m Vanyel. But—honestly, it wasn’t like you think.” He groped for the words that would make the near-worship he saw on her face go back to ordinary friendliness. “It wasn’t like that, it really wasn’t—just things had to get done, and I was the only one to do them, so I did. I’m not a hero, or—I’m just—I’m just—another Herald,” he finished lamely.
“Please, Father – I’m not asking for much. I’m not asking you to do anything. Only to believe that I am a decent human being. Believe in Herald Vanyel if you won’t believe in your son.”
“I do it because I have to. Because I’m needed. There isn’t anybody—I’m not boasting, Jervis, you can ask Savil—there isn’t anybody else in the whole Kingdom that can do what I can do. I can’t give up, I can’t just shrug things off and tell myself somebody else will take up the slack, because there isn’t anybody else. There are too many people out there who need my protection; because I’m this powerful, I have an obligation to use that power. I’m the lone Guard at the Gate—I daren’t give up, because there’s nobody behind me to take up what I lay down.” Jervis’ face went absolutely still. Vanyel wished he knew what the old man was thinking. “Nobody?” he asked. Vanyel shook his hair out of his eyes. “Nobody,” he echoed, staring into space. “I have no choice; it’s that, or know my inaction dooms others. Sometimes lots of others. Too many times, others I know and care for.”
Then I sang you a love song. The first one I ever sang for you. It was the first time I’d ever sung one with my heart in it.
►►► STORY & CHARACTERS:
Tall Jaysen (who always looked bleached, somehow) was half-sprawled on her couch, but he rose at Vanyel’s entrance—then did a double take, and staggered back a step, hand theatrically clutched to his chest.
“My heart!” he choked. “Savil, look at your nephew! Barefoot, shaggy-headed, and shabby! Where in Havens has our peacock gone?”
“He got lost somewhere south of Horn,” Vanyel replied. “I last saw him in a tavern singing trios with my mind and my wits. I haven’t seen either of them in a while, either.”
“You look like hell,” said a rough voice just above his head.
What an amazing coincidence, Savil, Vanyel thought without opening his eyes. I feel like hell.
:Enlighten me, I need ammunition.:
But Withen never seemed to grasp that Yfandes was exactly what his son said she was; a brilliant, thinking, creative lady, with all of a great lady’s manners and daintiness, who just happened to be living in a horse’s body.
►►► OVERALL:
“I think you’ll do just fine. Now—does that solve all the problems?”
Because I’m about to run out of brilliant ideas, energy, and the ability to hold off pain.
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