Bastion

novelty. A room that moved . . . that was pretty different. He suspected that she hadn’t yet contemplated the fact that there would be an awful lot of them squeezed into a place that was, maybe, the size of his room here at the stables.
    Mags might have been more interested, except he already had memories of what caravan life was like from Dallen. A novelty, but living in nice tight rooms in winter was much preferable, at least in Dallen’s estimation, and Mags didn’t see any reason to argue with him. He could see where tempers could get out of hand with four to six people crammed into the same tiny space, barely the size of two of the stalls that the Companions shared.
    But then, if they were going to The Bastion, presumably there would be some sort of shelter there . . . wait, Caelen had said something about caves, hadn’t he?
    He closed his eyes a moment and thought back to those old Guard reports. Yes! Caves! That was it! There were caves—the reports had definitely said several of them. That wouldn’t be so bad. Mags knew from his mining days that caves stayed about the same temperature all year round, once you got away from the entrance some. He knew a lot about mines and caves—if there was a place that had a crack or fissure that went all the way to the surface, often enough you could make yourself a decent sort of fireplace there. And they wouldn’t have to hunt for such places themselves, because the remains of the bandits’ old fires would show them where such places were. Provided they got themselves in place before the snow fell, they could make things quite comfortable, more comfortable than in a Waystation, probably as, or more, comfortable than in the caravan itself.
    “What are you thinking about so hard?” Amily asked. “You haven’t said a word.”
    “Thinking about the best way for all of us to set things up so we don’t want to tear each others’ faces off before winter gets too deep,” he said dryly.
    “I suppose of the lot of us, you’re the closest to guessing what this is going to be like,” she replied, and made a little face. “And that’s without having to evade your hunters.”
    “Living together that close is gonna be a strain, no matter what. We just need to be careful about things from the very beginning,” he assured her, and squeezed her hand. “We’ve been friends a long time. We’ll just have to keep reminding each other why. We just have to be . . . easy with everybody else’s bad habits—or what we think are bad habits. Get my meaning?”
    He looked over at Bear and Lena, who were giving him thoughtful looks of their own. “It’s hard living so close like we’ll be doing,” he told them. “Sometimes, the least little things’ll make you mad. Habits, little ticks, that kinda thing. There won’t be much privacy, ’less we can arrange some when we get to The Bastion. You lot ain’t never lived without some privacy. It’ll take getting used to.”
    They all considered that for a good long moment, long enough to make him satisfied that they had actually taken in what he said and hadn’t dismissed it with an airy, “But we’re all friends, we could never get angry with each other!”
    On the other hand, they’d all had experience with getting angry with each other. Granted, it had been because their emotions had all been manipulated in a sense. The talismans that the assassins had carried had had some unexpected side effects—there was something about the protections here on Valdemar that made the things act like irritants to everyone within close range. So, perhaps that made his friends more inclined to take Mags’ cautions seriously.
    “Pish,” Bear finally said. “If we all start acting too tetchy, I can brew up a tea to mellow us all right down.”
    Mags had to smile at that. “Just so that we aren’t so mellow we don’t take danger seriously,” he cautioned.
    “So do we know who your mentor is?” Bear wanted to know.
    At that moment, a tall shadow filled the doorway, making them all turn to stare.
    “That would be me,” said Herald Jakyr, stepping into the room. “Hello Mags.”
    •   •   •
    Jakyr had been the first Herald Mags had ever seen. In fact, before he met Jakyr, he hadn’t even known there were such things as Heralds. Jakyr had come in response to a desperate plea from Dallen, who had been unable to get anywhere near his Chosen, thanks to the efforts of Cole Pieters and his sons. At that