Swordwick, section two

[maderr]

Eight days of perverted conversation, he was ready to kill the unicorn. Diamond, he had found, was nearly always the instigator—so much like Pence, it was almost frightening. The only difference was that he always told Pence to shut up, and at least half the time Fenwick went along with it.

All of that, combined with the fact he could not stop looking at Fenwick, further worsened by all the time they were spending together, were all conspiring to make him very, very uncomfortable. Even the problems his sister was obviously having with her thick-headed idiot of a fiancé could not make him entirely forget about Fenwick. If the torture went on for much longer, he though morosely, he probably would let Fenwick bed him.

He should really feel worse about that, but somehow he did not—except when he remembered that he was a swordwick, and Fenwick's opinion of them. And then there was the fact that he could overhear their conversations—

So he was tossed constantly between lust and shame and worry and loneliness, and it was all coming together to make him more than a little cranky. In fact, if they did not shut up very soon, he probably would give in and murder them.

He did not even particularly care that he would then be killed himself, for slaughtering a grade five familiar. If the damned thing did not shut up, he was going to kill it and sell the horn.

Or maybe just shove it up Fenwick's ass, for not just letting his unicorn get away with such things—but participating.

Twitching with the urge to murder, hoping they would shut up soon so he would not be forced to explain why he could hear them, Hollowick focused on the book he had brought along to read while the King gave his speech—tonight was the official betrothal ball, and this afternoon marked the beginning of the festivities that would culminate with the wedding and reception ball. He just wished Will looked happier—but how could she, when her pending husband was obviously a philandering idiot who clearly did not know a good thing when it was offered to him on a silver platter complete with cushy trade agreements? Bah. If Galus did not wise up soon, Hollowick was going to say to hell with everything, fetch his sword, and teach the man a hard lesson on why it was wise to keep Will happy.

What about the Prime Minister of Balis? Diamond asked. As stuffy as he is, I bet he completely lets go in the bedroom. I say a four, easy.

I doubt it. replied Prince Fenwick. He's probably boring as toast. Not more than a two.

Hmm. What about the Kalaba chit? She's pretty enough, and more than a little endowed, eh? Six.

Oh, yes, and with a bossy little temper to match. Three.

All right, then how about the bride to be? You cannot get any finer than that, so far as females go. Seven, absolutely. No lesser number is acceptable, even from you.

Hollowick was sorely tempted to tell his sister what these two had been doing—and that they had only given her a seven! Nothing would amuse him more than to see them learn the hard way why she required no wizardly escort. No magic in the world stood a chance against her right hook. Eighteen wizards, five princes, two princesses, and an assortment of nobles could all testify to that. It would be even sweeter than causing their deaths.

Oh, she is quite the beauty, I give you that. Supposedly violent, though we have seen no evidence of that yet…and there is also that she is marrying my brother, which speaks of bravery and patience. At that, the violent tendencies are probably an additional bonus. She also dances well, converses beautifully, and can dance. I would say you have vast understated her charms, Diamond. I mark her at an eight, possibly even a nine.

Impressive, most impressive, coming from you. Well, then what about the brother you are trying very hard to pretend you do not want to bed. As knotted up as he has got you, I bet you rate him at a--

If you even attempt to finish that thought, either one of you, Hollowick thought savagely to them both I will cut off bits that will render this entire conversation completely academic

The thunderous silence that followed his statement was the most wonderful thing he had heard all day—for a split second. Then he realized just what a stupid thing he had done, and how much trouble he would be in the very moment the speech ended and they were free to go.

He waited, sick to his stomach, for them to prod him, nudge him, but the silence remained.

Barely had Galus dismissed everyone when he was bolting through the halls toward his room, desperate to get way, to hide, to keep his secret before it ruined everything—

But when he reached his sitting room, they were waiting for him, and by the looks on Fenwick's face…everything was about to be far worse than he had imagined.

"You can hear us," Fenwick said flatly.

Hollowick hung his head. "Yes."

"When," Fenwick demanded icily, "were you going to inform us of this fact? Or were you enjoying yourself, eavesdropping on private conversations?"

"No!" Hollowick cried, horrified and miserable. "No, I hated it. I just wasn't allowed to say anything."

"Why? Wanted to see what state secrets we might let slip?"

"No," Hollowick replied, growing more miserable by the second. "Gods, no. Because my parents did not want me humiliating my sister, or them. That's all, I swear."

"Why should I believe you?" Fenwick asked. "What conversations have you overheard? Were you enjoying yourself, over hearing things that were none of your business?"

Hollowick swallowed against the lump in his throat, staring hard at the carpet, incapable of meeting Fenwick's eyes. "All I overheard were the silly conversations you had at the parties and meetings. The very moment something more important seemed to be starting, I fled far enough away I could not hear. It's been a nightmare, hearing but not being able to say—I wanted to tell you, but I was forbidden—"

Fenwick cut him off with a sharp motion, eyes as hard as ice, none of the warmth or friendship which had been in them remaining. "Why should I believe a single word you say? Obviously you cannot be trusted. Why is your ability an embarrassment?"

"It came with my familiar," Hollowick said faintly, feeling nauseous. "I can only hear other wicks with unicorn familiars, and I have to be fairly close—no farther than the length of an ordinary room."

"You have a unicorn familiar," Fenwick said scathingly. "No unicorn grants such an ability. So you are a sneak and a liar."

"I'm not!" Hollowick protested, fighting tears now, feeling stupid that he was even reduced to tears. "I'm not a liar. My familiar is a unicorn—a black unicorn."

There was a startled silence.

He can't be… Diamond said, obviously having mistakenly dropped his guard.

It would seem he is… "You're…" Fenwick shook his head, looking horrified. "You're a grade five wick, and still just a stupid metalwick?"

The words struck Hollowick like a slap across the face. "You said you thought my wick impressive," he said, the words coming out hollow. "I'm a very good wick, my carrying a sword does not make me any less a grade five wick."

"I thought I was seeing flash without the supplementation of a familiar, not the best a poor swordwick could do. Your sister said you flashed an entire carriage!"

"After I used sword and magic to kill the bandits who broke the wheels!" Hollowick snarled. "There was five of them, and because I'm a stupid metalwick I killed them all." He looked up, anxious to see something—anything—in those beautiful blue eyes that would give him reason to hope.

But all he saw was that his brother in law would never now consider being his friend, never mind bedding him, or calling him anything but a stupid metalwick. "You're a Seer," he said miserably. "They're nearly as looked down upon as me."

"Only the fakes and liars," Fenwick said scathingly. "I do not need to supplement my grade five wick by acting like a common soldier."

Hollowick nodded stiffly. "Then I can only say again that I am sorry for all I have done to offend and upset you. I never meant either of you any harm. I promise that I shall keep my distance from here on out, so that I do not further offend you or your family with my presence."

He did not wait for their reply, simply fled into his bed chamber and went immediately for his mirror, wiping angrily at the hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Pence!" he cried, when his familiar came into view.

What's wrong, Holly? Pence demanded, immediately concerned.

"Fenwick and Diamond know," Hollowick replied. "I slipped up today and lost my temper, and now they know and they're probably telling Galus as we speak and he called me a stupid metalwick and hates me. By morning they'll all know—what if I have ruined the wedding?"

Then the King is even more stupid than we already believed, and most certainly does not deserve his bride Pence replied. Calm down, Holly. We will work this out, one way or another. I am sorry your pretty brother turned out to be so worthless and ignorant.

"What should I do?" Hollowick asked.

Pence was silent a moment, as he thought. Then he said at last, Come to me. If you are not there, they can hardly do anything to you, and I cannot see them being stupid enough to take it out on Will. If they are that stupid, they will get what they deserve. Leave Will a note, explaining everything, pack a bag, and come to me. Running away is seldom the best way to handle a problem, but I think it will do for now. We will face the consequences of it all later, together, after we have killed these damned dragons.

Nodding, Hollowick asked, "Where are you?"

Pretty close to you, actually Pence admitted. You would have been able to hear me by morning, I think, if not a bit sooner. I think we might have an even bigger problem with these dragons than I first suspected, so it is just as well you are joining me. He hesitated, then continued, In fact, you might do to go warn those other swordwicks that a mother green spike and at least three babies have a nest somewhere very close to that castle. It's a wonder that they have not been found yet, and that the one baby wandered so far away. That spells trouble.

Hollowick drew a sharp breath. "I'll tell them at once. Then I shall find you quick as I can."

Look due east Pence replied. I cannot wait to see you again, though I wish the reasons were happier.

"I do not care about the reasons, so long as I can see you again," Hollowick replied, even if that was a little bit of a lie. He had sort of liked what Pence had said several days ago, about being madly in love and deliriously happy. Not that he was either, or ever would be…but he might have gotten as close as possible, he thought, in his friendship with Fenwick.

Well, it no longer mattered. Mistakes made could not be unmade, and Fenwick had made painfully clear how he felt about swordwicks and Hollowick being one.

At least he no longer had to pretend.

Stowing the mirror, he strode to the trunk which held his contraband and threw it open, pulling out his weapons, his leathers and tunics, all those things which embarrassed the people around him but made him so damn happy.

Stripping off his courtly garb, he pulled on the black leggings and under clothes, then the long-sleeved gray under tunic. Over this he pulled on lightweight armor—leather laid over thin metal, buckled into place to protect chest and back. Over all, he pulled a sleeveless black tunic, trimmed in gray thread. Across the breast was his personal crest, designed by Willa as a birthday present the year after he had declared he was going to be a swordwick, no matter what anyone said. The crest was of the standard Wick Flame—but formed into the shape of a sword, and around it wrapped the gold and crimson roses that were the royal crest of his kingdom.

Dressed, he strapped his sheaths into place and buckled on his sword belt, settling the blades and feeling properly dressed for the first time since leaving home. He felt like himself—depression and isolation and all.

Heavy-hearted, he packed a satchel with all he would need for a week's stay in the forest, then wrote his sister a letter, sealing it and leaving it where it would be easily found.

The sitting room was empty when he entered it, and though he was hardly surprised, still it was disappointing. But what had he been hoping to see? Fenwick wanting to apologize, to reconcile? Ha.

Swallowing the bitter disappointment as he had so many other times in his life, he made his way quickly through the castle, slipping through the back garden toward the ramshackle barracks at the edge of the property where the swordwicks were housed.

Knocking upon the door, he waited. Just when he was beginning to think no one would respond, the door opened, a look of confusion on the swordwick's face that immediately turned to one of shock. "Highness!"

"I cannot linger long," Hollowick said, before the man could say anything further, ignoring the others as they appeared at the first's startled cry. "Prince Fenwick has discovered I am a swordwick, and he is not pleased. I am no longer welcome at the palace. I go to rejoin my familiar—but we are going to fight a nest of green spikes." He motioned for silence when they started to speak. "The nest is apparently quite close to the palace, or so my familiar fears. Go on patrol, see if you can find it. I will be doing the same." He dredged up a weak smile. "Perhaps we will get to fight together. Farewell."

"Farewell, for now, Highness. We will see you again."

Nodding, privately doubting it but heartened by the words anyway, Hollowick turned and left, taking the gate at the end of the gardens, slipping out into the night.

He flashed a lantern once he was well away from the palace, just as he entered the forest proper, drawing his sword so that he was prepared for whatever might bother him in the night. He could feel the faint tug of Pence, now, though he could not tell how far apart they were—but he could feel him, and that made the world a much more tolerable place to be.

Gods, he hoped they did not punish Will for any of this. She had not done anything but be a wonderful big sister—and too good a woman, enduring that stupid oaf of a King. He hoped both brothers rotted in their own stupidity. Hopefully, Will would not worry too much about him—or beat him up too much whenever they met again.

Thinking that, however, made him wonder if he still had a home. Sister or no sister, he did not see himself ever being welcomed there again…and once his parents found out about this debacle, they would draw up the papers of disownment with extreme haste. Knowing them, they would have them drawn up and signed by mid afternoon tomorrow, and delivered by special messenger in two days time.

Now, I think that is excessively gloomy, even for you, dearest.

"Pence!" How close are you? I thought you were further away.

Not more than fifty paces, I think. I wanted to see you, so I started heading this way the moment I knew you were coming.

Hollowick ran, careless of the lantern he carried, barely setting it down before he threw himself at Pence, wrapping his arms around the unicorn's neck.

It was the happiest he had felt for days, being back with his familiar. No matter what, he had Pence—beautiful, fierce, loyal, dirty-minded Pence.

I have missed you too. Do not cry, Holly. We will make things better, I promise.

"I'm not crying," Hollowick muttered, wiping angrily at his cheeks as he pulled away. So where are these dragons?

I think the dragons can wait until daylight Pence said, snorting in amusement. Rustle up some food and bedding. I am a might too tired to do it myself, tonight.

Of course Hollowick replied, immediately doing so. Good hay and other treats from the royal stables, lumps of sugar from the kitchens, and for himself he flashed the foodstuffs he knew were always ready to hand in his parents' kitchens. Then he flashed his own bedroll, and Pence's favorite horse blanket.

"I've missed this," he said aloud once they had bedded down for the night.

Pence butted his chest. Yes, but I think you miss getting along with Fenwick more.

It doesn't matter Hollowick replied, thoughts dull and flat. I only knew him a little over a week. What does that amount to?

Hard to say Pence replied with an inward sigh. But hopefully it amounts to him missing you as well, and being extremely sorry he was such a bloody ass.

Ha Hollowick thought, and rolled over onto his stomach, laying there in silence until he finally fell asleep.

*~*~*

I smell dragon blood.

"Good," Hollowick said. "After two day of fruitless hunting, I was beginning to think you were lying about the dragons."

Ha, ha. If I was going to lie to you to drag you into the woods, dearest, it would be to see some nymph or sprite seduce you—"

Shut it!

Pence snickered in his mind. As to the dragons…it is probably that we are together again, and they can sense the magic now that was too low to trouble them when I was alone. They are trying to hide from us—and so far succeeding—and likely have retreated to the nest we are trying to find. Hopefully that means we can finish this with relative ease. I really wish they were not green spikes, though. If we come out of this without broken limbs, I will count us most fortunate indeed.

"So will I," Hollowick muttered, mostly because they had nowhere to if they did break limbs.

Your sister would never allow anyone to turn you away.

That's not the point.

Being heartbroken does not suit you at all.

"Shut it!" Hollowick snarled, and stomped on ahead. He was not heartbroken. He was upset and worried about Will and sad he had lost a new friend, but really who wanted to be friends with a lecherous, condescending, old-fashioned, spoiled brat who had called him a talentless, stupid metalwick?

He stopped and glared over his shoulder at Pence, who was laughing quite loudly in his mind. "I do not care how pretty you are, goat, I will kill you if you do not shut it!" He drew his sword and used it to point, for emphasis.

Pence only chortled some more, and playfully knocked the sword away with his horn. Come along, Sir Heart Ache. Let us slay yon dragon and win back fair prince's heart.

Oh, stop it Hollowick replied, refusing to be amused. I'm no dashing knight, and you are definitely not a noble steed.

That is because I am far too pretty to be a lowly steed Pence said haughtily.

Hollowick laughed, but conceded. "You are beautiful, even if you're all too aware of it."

Pence was beautiful, he didn't care what anyone said. Unicorns typically were white, or ever so slightly silver or gold, with like hair. Pence was nothing so mild—he was a perfect, unrelenting black from one end to the other. Also odd, his hooves, hair, and even his horn were all the color of highly polished steel. He was a swordwick's unicorn, and looked it in every way. Hollowick had never been able to understand why such a beautiful creature could be counted a bad omen.

Jealousy Pence said loftily. That, and they want very badly to grab hold of me and—"

Shut it Hollowick hissed. Unicorns are not supposed to have such filthy minds

Whoever said that, obviously never met a unicorn

"Lucky him," Hollowick muttered.

Ignoring him, Pence began to sing very loudly in his head—and he of course sang one of the silly old ballads he loved, this one naturally about a wick and unicorn who save the day. Rolling his eyes, Hollowick never the less sang the song aloud as his unicorn clearly wanted.

They had just begun to sing the final verse when they came upon a thick pool of greenish-yellow dragon blood—as well as traces of human blood.

Looking around, drawing his sword, Hollowick saw further signs of battle—and that the battle had vanished off into the woods on the far side of the clearing.

"Come on!" he cried, and bolted, racing off into the forest, following the trail of blood and signs of violence. But he grew abruptly horrified as he realized that only the mother could bleed so heavily and still—

The palace Pence said suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. The dragons are at the palace.

"No!" Hollowick cried, but even as he spoke, they abruptly tumbled free of the forest, nearly right smack against the eastern wall of the palace—the wall that was barely even there anymore, shattered and broken by the rampages of an angry, badly wounded dragon protecting her young.

He heard screams, could feel magic—

On my back Pence said.

Wasting no time, Hollowick spun around and launched himself onto Pence's back holding tightly with one hand to his mane as Pence leapt neatly over and through the rubble, landing neatly amidst a mass of confusion and panic.

People were shouting, soldiers fleeing as they proved ineffective against one full grown green spike and three babies. He thought he caught a glimpse of Fenwick, but then ceased to care as he saw what was keeping the dragons from attacking the palace itself.

All six of the swordwicks were fighing them, holding the dragons back as best they were able—obviously losing the fight, but doing better than anyone else had likely managed. Two of the swordwicks were injured, but still they fought the dragons.

The mother saw Hollowick and Pence, and swung around, bringing up the tail that gave these dragons their names—long, thick, covered all over with sharp green spines.

Hollowick flashed one of the lawn tables he had glimpsed upon arrival, letting it take the hit as he and Pence barely got out of the way in time.

"Swordwicks!" he cried, and they shouted back as best they could, but with four dragons it was impossible for anyone to say anything, let alone convey enough information to do his comrades any good.

Use it Pence said, sounding as eager and excited as Hollowick felt. This is precisely the reason we have the ability.

Yes Hollowick agreed, and slid neatly off Pence's back, lightly touching Pence's horn, drawing upon his power directly, and summoned up the spell he had never—a spell only he could use, as a grade five swordwick with a unicorn familiar.

Because only those of heart could see, could feel, could hear.

"Cacophony!" Hollowick cried, releasing the spell—and nearly falling to his knees as it took effect, latching onto the other swordwicks, sharing all their voices and those of their familiars, so that he could hear twelve others in his head—so that they could hear each other, communicate, work together—

And it did work, better than he could have possibly imagined or hoped, for after only a moment the noise settled, and they seemed to think as fourteen parts of a whole. He could feel all their fear, their wonder, their excitement—

Then they fought the dragons.

Communicating the way they did, working the way they were now able, the job was a thousand times easier than it otherwise would have been—fighting the dragons became possible

Distract—

There, the neck!

It's injured, focus on the wound—

Get her eyes!

Hold her there

You two—

Hollowick drove his sword into the mother dragon's chest, at the vulnerable point two others had finally laid bare, and barely dove away in time as she collapsed. He rolled to his feet, and took a deep breath.

Then, everything abruptly went still. It was over, he realized, and they had won.

He looked at the other swordwicks, who seemed just as stunned. Then they smiled hesitantly—then they grinned openly—and then they simply cheered, raising a raucous like no other.

Smiling, Hollowick snapped his fingers and broke the spell which had allowed them to silently communicate, too weary to maintain it any longer.

Then the noise was drowned out by a shriek of deafening proportions, and Hollowick saw his sister running toward him only a split second before she threw herself into his arms.

"Oh my gods! You jerk I've been worried sick and the dragons—and oh Holly you were magnificent and Pence too and you should have seen but of course you were doing." She squeezed him again, to the point he started to have problems breathing.

"Will—"

"Sorry!" she said, and drew back slightly, shifting her death grip to just his arms. "Oooh, I want to kick you for vanishing, you great bloody ass!" She shook him hard. "But oh, Holly, I wish you could have seen the way you came through the wall, the spell, how you all fought—just like the journals and the ballads and you were so wonderful! Better than anything!"

He smiled, feeling suspiciously like crying again, and kissed her cheek. "Go tell the others that, Will. I bet they've never had a Queen, future or otherwise, tell them they're wonderful swordwicks before."

She kissed his cheek in reply, smiling, then turned away to go lavish the same enthusiastic praise upon the other swordwicks.

Hollowick smiled as Pence returned to his side after triple-checking the dragons were dead. "We did well, eh, Pence?"

Pence shook his head, flouncing his mane. Of course we did, dearest. We are the finest and best looking swordwicks who ever lived.

And so modest Hollowick replied, rolling his eyes, but smiling as he reached out to pet Pence. He laughed gently when Pence butted against his chest. "You are beautiful, Pence. More beautiful than anything."

Except maybe Fenwick? Pence asked teasingly.

Shut it, you dumb goat.

Should…should we be able to hear you? Fenwick's voice came inhis mind, soft and puzzled and hesitant, cut through Hollowick like a knife.

He turned sharply—and found Fenwick and Diamond only a few paces a way.

The livid black eye Fenwick sported cheered him only moderately.

No, you shouldn't Pence said. Normally, it is that we can overhear other conversations, and insert ourselves there if we desire—but I have never known another pair to overhear what we say, especially since we know how to keep the conversation completely private.

"It doesn't matter," Hollowick said, then continued, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. "Do not worry, Highness. We are leaving again, now the crisis is averted."

"No," Fenwick said, then faltered. "That is, you don't have to—"

"Stay where I'm not wanted?" Hollowick finished.

"I didn't mean for you to leave like that!" Fenwick protested. "I was just angry you were eavesdropping, I didn't know you'd run away…"

Hollowick's mouth tightened. "I suppose you didn't meant to call me a talentless wick and a stupid metalwick either, Highness? I don't particularly care anymore. You can take your narrowed minded, old fashioned views and bugger off for all I care. I know when I'm not wanted, and if you'll excuse me—"

"Holly!" Willa appeared out of seemingly nowhere and latched onto his arm, dragging him away—and toward the palace.

"Sis, I really have to be going—"

"You're not going anywhere," Willa said tartly.

Hollowick gave up any thought of arguing—not because she was mad, but because the sharp tone did not quite hide the fact that she was close to crying. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She sniffled, then glared up at him. "You are a total brat, to make me worry about you. I got your letter, and it made me so mad and sick with worry and I am glad you are here and safe, even though that awful dragon definitely tried to eat you—" She broke off, and smiled. "You really were wonderful, Holly. Like something from a ballad, honest."

"Oh, psh," he said dismissively. "It takes more than a few stupid dragons to make a man into a ballad, and anyway I do not want anyone singing stupid songs about me, do I make myself clear?"

Willa laughed, and squeezed the arm to which she still clung. "I make no promises."

"You had better…" He trailed off as he realized they were walking toward King Galus. "I should go, Will," he said quietly. "I've caused you enough trouble, and you already have too many…you punched him too!"

"Of course I did," she said, batting the words away with one hand.

Then she shocked him further by placing the hand in Galus', who lifted it and kissed the knuckles lightly. "Galus," she said, "let me introduce you properly this time. This is my brother Hollowick, a grade five swordwick of inestimable skill."

Galus held one hand over his heart and nodded slightly—the closest a king ever came to bowing. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Swordwick."

"You'll pardon me if I find that hard to believe," Hollowick replied, clinging to Pence's mane with his free hand, wondering what was really going on here.

Perhaps your sister persuaded him to have a change of heart.

Perhaps the sky will turn orange.

Stop being a sulky child, and at least play along like a prince until we are on better footing Pence said sharply. You want people to accept you—give them a chance when they seem to be doing precisely that. The King might be stupid, but he was not the one who ever actually wronged you. For Will's sake, at least be polite, if you can be nothing else.

"Holly," Willa said, concern in her voice. "Please, he does mean it."

"Then I apologize for my rudeness," Hollowick said, thawing slightly. "Your welcome is, to say the least, unexpected."

Galus nodded. "I know. I cannot say I took Fenwick's news gracefully, but your sister made it quite clear just how stupid we were being. She is fiercely devoted to you." He smiled at her.

She smiled back.

Just what in the world did I miss over the course of two days?

He jumped when it was Fenwick who replied. She punched me, punched him, and yelled at us both for a good hour at least.

Hollowick turned slightly and glared at him. I hope you do not expect me to believe that one good clouting managed to knock anything resembling sense into either of your heads.

No…the sense was knocked into my head by something else entirely, Fenwick replied quietly. As to my brother…he went looking for her a little while after she stormed off, and found her eventually in your room, crying her eyes out. He has not been the same man since.

Whatever Hollowick replied, though he was happy to hear that maybe Galus would be treating his sister right, after all.

"I thank you, Majesty," Hollowick said. "I hope nobody was too badly hurt?"

"Two of the swordwicks," Galus replied. "They are being tended by the healers as we speak, and will be good as new by tomorrow, I am certain. Watching all of you was the most incredible thing I have ever seen—if Will had not already convinced me you were a wonder, seeing that battle would have done so. Truly, I apologize for any and all slights you have received in my home, and would be honored to have you continue to stay with us."

Hollowick bowed. The words were good to hear, but they did not make him as happy as he had thought they would. Perhaps because it was the wrong brother speaking them. He wondered when he had ceased to care about the opinions of the world, and only about the opinion of one.

You really were magnificent Fenwick said quietly.

"If you will pardon me," Hollowick said sharply, pointedly ignoring him, "I am extremely tired and would dearly love to rest."

"Of course," Willa said. "I'll take you to your room—"

"I can find my way, Will," he cut in, dredging up a smile for her. "Honestly, the dragon did not hit me that hard. You stay here." He kissed her cheek, then still holding fast to Pence, slowly walked away.

He had just entered the palace proper when Fenwick's voice shattered the tenuous calm he had just achieved. "Hollowick!"

I do not believe Pence said coldly, that you still hold the right to be so informal with his Highness.

Fenwick flinched. "My apologies, of course. I only wanted to say—that is—I am sorry, for what it is worth. I should not have spoken as I did to you, Ho—Highness, and I wondered—"

Hollowick ignored him, too tired, too wrung out, to feel like dealing with any of it.

"Won't you at least give me a chance?"

The same chance you gave him? Pence demanded. One moment he was pretty and worth bedding, then he was a loathsome, stupid metalwick, and now that he had found favor he is worthy of your time again? I believe, Highness, that all you deserve is precisely what you gave him—nothing. If you and that pale heifer want to find yourselves returned to our good graces, I suggest you try harder than that. His steel horn flashed in the late afternoon sunlight pouring through a window.

Then he turned, and followed Hollowick through the halls, leaving Fenwick and Diamond standing alone in the grand entrance.

*~*~*

Hollowick looked up from his book in amusement, twisting to pet the nose which had inserted itself on top of his book. "This gazebo is not meant for horses, you dumb mare."

If I am a mare, then there is a distinct problem with the—"

"Shut it," Holloway said idly, closing his book. "You're in a good mood. I take it you like this palace?"

Yes Pence said slowly. It is a great deal of fun to be around other swordwick familiar, and people are at least growing used to us. After the dragons, they are left somewhat in awe. It's nice, to be awed. What about you, dearest?

"What about me?" Hollowick asked tiredly. "I'm fine."

You are miserable. Why not talk to him?

"I do not see that accomplishing anything," Hollowick replied dully. "He does not trust me, I cannot trust him. Even if I wanted to…"

If Pence replied with a snort. Ignoring him is making you more miserable by the day. You do not know if you can trust him if you do not first try to trust him.

"Three days ago you were on my side," Hollowick said irritably. "Why are you now on his?"

Pence nuzzled his cheek, and even irritated, Hollowick reflexively pet him in turn, soothed as always merely by Pence's presence—even when he wanted to clobber the damned heifer.

I am always on your side, dearest Holly. That is why I suggest talking to him. I have seen him, these past three days while you were studiously ignoring him. He always watches you from afar, as miserable and wretched as you. I think, the both of you started off quite poorly. You could hardly be yourself, weighed down by the strictures of your parents. Those forced you into dishonesty…and in turn ruined his trust in you, and he lashed, shattering your faith in him. Perhaps now, you start on more even footing? Pence nuzzled him again. At least consider it. Whatever the outcome, better to talk and have done, than to keep avoiding one and prolonging the problem.

"Stop being logical," Hollowick muttered, burying his face against Pence. I hate it when you're logical

Pence laughed, and nuzzled him one last time, before he wandered off again to go spend time with the other swordwick familiars.

Hollowick opened his book again, but his already shaky concentration had been completely lost. Closing the book again, he set it aside and stared out over the gardens, heaving a sigh. Closing his eyes, he tried simply to enjoy the breeze, the scent of the flowers…

The sound of shoes on wood made him startle, and he opened his eyes—and immediately felt all his miseries rise once more to the surface. "Yes?" he asked tersely.

"I just want to talk," Fenwick said quietly. "That's all. Please."

"Say whatever you want," Hollowick said, suddenly feeling too tired to order him away—and hate it though he did, Pence's words would not leave him.

Fenwick sat slowly down next to him, hands playing restlessly with something.

His small scrying crystal, Hollowick realized. Fenwick had a larger crystal ball, his primary one, in his sitting room. But he carried a smaller one with him at all times. He played with it now, as Hollowick had noted he always did when he was restless or bored—or nervous.

"I know the words are not enough," Fenwick said slowly, "but they are at least a start. I am sorry for all the terrible things I said to you that night. It has become painfully obvious that I spoke in ignorance and arrogance. You…" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "You really were magnificent. I never knew swordwicks could be so…it was like nothing I had ever seen."

Hollowick shrugged, struggling not to be warmed by the praise.

Silence fell, and he wondered where all of this was headed. If he said all was forgiven and forgotten…what then? Would they try to regain the friendship they had been building? Could they? What about…would Fenwick want him again, and did Hollowick want Fenwick to desire him again?

"I can't see you," Fenwick blurted suddenly.

"What?" Hollowick said, confused.

Fenwick stood up, and moved close—then dropped to his knees and displayed his little crystal ball. "No Seer can ever see himself. It's just not possible to see our own destinies, our own potentials. But I can see everyone else…except you." He wrapped his hand around the crystal ball, then slowly uncurled the fingers again, one by one. "Except I saw you this morning—briefly, of little more substance than a ghost or spirit…but I did see you."

Hollowick was only growing more confused. "So?"

"So…it means that once you were tied so closely to me, that seeing you was as impossible as seeing myself. I did not at first realize what that meant, then I just refused to believe it, and decided I was casting wrong. But even after I knew you were a swordwick, I could not see you! Then, today, I could just barely see you…and I realized it meant that I was losing you, that you were growing so distant that you were no longer part of me." He finally looked up, blue eyes filled with all the misery Hollowick had been feeling since the night everything fell apart. "I'm sorry I was so cruel. Part of it was ignorance, part of it was just lashing out. But I never meant to run you off, and I never meant to drive you so far away from me."

He paused, then said, "I do not expect us to go back to what we were, or what we might have been…just please, Hollowick, do not withdraw so far that the only place I see you is my crystal."

Hollowick tried to speak, but the words wouldn't form, trapped in his throat. You…and what will you do when everyone mocks you for…for calling a swordwick friend? If you had a swordwick who was more than a friend? Will you expect me to hide what I am, when we are in public? I'm tired of hiding what I am because others are embarrassed and humiliated by me. What will you do when people see you standing with a swordwick?

"I'll show you," Fenwick said, and grabbed his hand, dragging him up from his seat in the gazebo, all but running as he led him back toward the palace, through it to the western gardens—where what must be hundreds of people were gathered for yet another garden party in his sister's honor.

"What do you think—"

"Showing you what I'll do when people realize I'm with a swordwick," Fenwick replied, a trace of the playful smile Hollowick had missed along with so much else shaping his mouth.

Hollowick frowned. "All right…"

Fenwick's smile turned into a full blown smirk, and he yanked Hollowick close—

And Hollowick's eyes went wide as he realized Fenwick was kissing him. In front of everyone. While he was wearing his swordwick clothes and his sword and…

No one had ever kissed him, not unless it was dark and the door was locked. He could hear his sister shriek, and people laughing—even a few cheers that sounded suspiciously like his swordwicks—but he really did not care if another dragon or twenty showed up.

Sinking his fingers into Fenwick's hair, he kissed back with everything he had, tasting champagne and cake and something spicy that might have just been Fenwick himself and he did not want it to ever stop and was it real? But it had to be, because the feel of Fenwick against him was better than anything he had imagined before.

Fenwick drew back slightly, smiling. "So does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"Possibly," Hollowick allowed. "You could try being a bit more persuasive."

Fenwick laughed in surprise and pleasure, and immediately returned to kissing him.

I told you they would manage it before the day was out Pence said smugly.

You cheated Diamond retorted.

Well, you should have been on your guard, not on that stallion—

Shut it! Hollowick thought, the same time Fenwick thought Shut up.