Bastion

commissions—in fact one of those was one your father was supposed to have taken, and he—again!—took your father’s place. And the Shadao was fond of extravagant gestures. The spilling of blood on the Council table appealed to him. The stains are still there,” Bey ended, thoughtfully. Then turned a bit green. “Your Blessing does not agree with me, my cousin. I shall withdraw—”
    “No.” Mags got up, and went to Bey, offering him a hand. When Bey took it, he helped the other young man to his feet, and guided him to the bed. “You lie down there a bit. I’m gonna talk to Dallen. We aren’t going to have much more time, I doubt this blizzard has another day in it, and then my friends are going to come looking for me. We have to settle this today. I’ll get you some tea.”
    He took all the knives with him, of course. No point in leaving extra weapons where Bey could get to them. But then he made some of that tea that Bear had given him so long ago, when his Gift started giving him problems, and brought it over to the Sleepgiver. Bey accepted it, made a face over the taste, but drank it down.
    “Ehu. That is better. Let me steady my head for a little.” Bey lay flat on the blankets, his gaze fixed on Mags.
    “Why are you here, really, Bey?” Mags asked. “Not the answer you gave me. Your own reason.”
    Bey pondered that for a moment. “Choice. And family. You were given the Ancient Memories potion, and yet, here you are, still persisting in remaining. I want to know why you are making this choice. You’re my blood, and blood should be calling to blood so strongly you will not be able to resist. That’s the main reason. I told you the other, it’s partly selfish. It will be much easier to reign with you at my side. The Shadao, my father, is sickly and will probably die within a year, and if I brought you back to him, even though you are the elder, he would not hesitate to give me the throne. I want someone at my side I can trust, someone who understands my vision of bringing honor back to the Sleepgivers. And here is cold, hard truth. When you come back with me, you will know no one in the House. You will depend on, and be loyal, to me. I need not fear you are machinating plans behind my back. I will be able to trust you, you will be able to trust me because of your Blessing. Because of your Blessing, I will be able to know , without doubt, who is my friend and who is my foe and who is vacillating and how to push them. And I will have the strong arm at my side and the brother at my back to ensure no one can come against me.”
    He took a long, shuddering breath, and put one hand on his stomach, as if to comfort it.
    That was a very long speech for someone with a queasy stomach. Mags let him wait for it to settle. “That’s not going to happen,” he said, a little sadly.
    “I wouldn’t be so sure. Haven’t you longed all your life for a family?” Bey smiled a little, as he saw that hit home. “Well, what did you have in mind for the settling of our . . . conundrum?”
    “I have in mind that we stop going through a third party,” Mags said, not betraying any of his uncertainty. “I want you to open your mind completely to me, and I’ll open mine to you.”
    “This may be more dangerous to you than it is to me,” Bey warned him, his eyes going bright with eagerness, his nausea forgotten.
    “We’ll see,” said Mags. “We’ll see.”
    •   •   •
    They sat facing each other, cross-legged, knees touching. Bey had brought with him the herbs for the Ancient Memories potion; he seemed sure that it would open his mind completely to Mags. Mags elected to forgo the potion, Bey didn’t seem to mind. He drank the nasty stuff down with a smile; when he lost the smile, and his eyes seemed to fog over, Mags knew that the time had come.
    He reached for Bey’s mind; the Sleepgiver’s few protections fell away like shreds of wet paper. Then, he was in . . . and he opened himself to Bey.
    Under the influence of the drugs, Bey could not have held secrets from Mags if he’d been a practiced Mindspeaker, which, of course, he wasn’t. Dallen had been right. Everything Bey had told him was true. Of course there were many things Bey hadn’t told him. That Bey was a true scion of his father, as ruthless a politician, and as adept at plot and counterplot. That Bey intended to put Mags on something of a pedestal once he had gotten the title of Shadao, showing off the Blessed One to