Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing, will rake the sandbox back over when I'm done.

Notes: Ahem.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dazed – Confused – Contused – Displaced

:Well, that was unpleasant.:

Venni couldn't even find the wits to give her Companion the sarcastic response that her statement deserved. Hirrn, however, seemed to have no such compunctions.

:Your talent for stating the obvious borders on the divine.:

:Had much truck with divinity? You sound like the voice of expertise.:

"Kit, this really isn't the time," Venni managed and she opened her eyes and squinted at the soot-patterned ceiling.

:My wandering paws have taken me through Sunhame,: Hirrn said, before adding, :your Herald is right. And she was the one channelling one half of that conflagration.:

:Mind-bond,: Kit pointed out in an aggrieved tone, underscored by a clatter of hooves. Venni's vision was filled with a filth-covered white muzzle. :Are you okay?:

"I'll be better as soon as I know you're not about to sneeze on me."

A wheezing laugh which, when Venni turned her head, turned out to be coming from Tarii. When she caught her looking, the gryphon shook out one of her wings and sighed. "The inssside of my head feelsss like my outsssidesss look."

:I think all of us are in the same boat.: A second clatter of hooves preceeded Melli's nose appearing above Venni. :Are you able to get up?: the dyheli asked. :Rainfox is out for the count.:

"I am perfectly fine, Melli."

:You are seeing double and have only just regained consciousness,: Melli corrected calmly. :And I do not think that you have enough energy left to light a candle, let alone tap a leyline or node.:

"I'm good for sitting and maybe walking—" Venni's ankle gave a vicious twinge that quickly escalated into a throbbing morass of pain and she revised her opinion. "Sitting on the ground or sitting on Kit." she levered herself up onto her elbows and surveyed the hall. "Luckily, that's about all we're going to have to deal with by the looks of things."

:Have you forgotten the Blood-mage?: Hirrn asked incredulously.

"I am morrre than capable of biting and clawing," Tarii eagerly put in.

Rainfox mirrored Venni and the two women slumped against each other. "I feel that Shadowflame has ensured that your bloodthirsty tendencies are purely academic at this point, Tarii."

"Pardon?" Goldleaf appeared from under one of Tarii's wings and looked questioningly at Rainfox.

"Shadowflame let rip with a fairly heavy duty burst of magic as we were trying to control that mess." Venni waved a limp hand at the charred remains that were spread around the hall, barring the roughly twenty foot in diameter circle that the group were crowded in.

"Which is partly why we fell over," Rainfox added.

"We all fell overrr," Tarii muttered. "Goldleaf, if you do not sstop poking at my ssside, I will be forrrced to eat you."

"Caring for my partner, I am," Goldleaf said firmly. "Apologise for that, I will not. Your side is a mess and needs stitching, at the least."

Hirrn's Mindvoice easily cut across the gryphon's growl of exasperation. :I have enough in me to make sure that nobody's insides fall out. Bruises and scrapes, however, you're on your own with.:

"That's a point; are we all still in one piece?" Yaska, Venni was surprised to discover, was the ash-encrusted lump a short distance from her feet. Velaryn was an equally coated mass behind him.

A chorus of half-hearted 'ayes' in both voice and Mindspeech. It took Venni two attempts to figure out that everyone in the group had answered, none with and variation on 'argh, argh, I'm in seventeen non-contiguous pieces!'

"We should go and find Shadowflame. Hirrn—"

:I will patch people up, starting with Tarii as she seems determined to ooze everywhere.: Hirrn didn't let Rainfox finish, and completely ignored Tarii's protests that the bleeding had only restarted with Goldleaf's prodding. The kyree skirted the clustered dyheli (excepting Melli, who was still hovering next to Kit) and half vanished under Tarii's left wing.

Kit sidled closer to her Chosen and Venni looped an arm around one of her forelegs, patting absently. She was just coming to the rather depressing conclusion that all the skidding around before had actually broken something in her ankle when she became aware that her companion had stiffened and was almost vibrating with tension. Kit's head and neck were extended and twisted off to one side, as if she were focused on something only she could sense.

Velaryn scrambled to her feet, mimicking Kit's pose exactly, heedless that her sudden movement had pushed over Yaska, who had managed to position himself against her side.

:What is she doing?:

"Who? What? Kit?" Venni thumped her Companion's leg in a vain attempt to gain her attention.

There was a pause of maybe three heartbeats before Kit and Velaryn started violently and simultaneously Broadsent, :Get down and shield!: before taking their own advice and diving for their respective Chosen.

Venni barely had time to bolster her shields before there was a deep, booming sound that violently shook what felt like the whole Keep, if not the entire valley. Hard on the heels of that was a surge of crimson-silver-blue mage energy that rapidly whited out Venni's mage-sight, and made every particle of her being thrum with vicious vibrations.

The shaking of the building became worse, the bucking of the floor gusting up great clouds of ash. Venni clung to Kit's neck, aware that Rainfox was gripping her waist and Melli was practically on top of both of them.

Just as Venni became convinced that the torrent of magic howling around them was going to permanently damage her Gifts, it stopped with shocking suddenness.

"What?" Venni croaked into the echoing silence. "What was that?" She felt Kit shudder all over, but the Companion didn't make any reply.

"Kit?"

The silence twisted, intensified, and morphed into the one sound that Venni despised above all others; a deep, sobbing bell toll that cut into Venni's head and obliterated all other thought.

.

.

Michael barely noticed the pain in his knees as he dropped to the broken tiles of the floor. His eyes were blinded by dazzled tears, his ears full of the echoing fuzz of tinnitus, his skin burning like he'd just spent three days on a sun bed cultivating melanoma and—last but not least—his mind felt almost crushed by Giff.

It took Michael what felt like a year to puzzle out the fact that his head was still attached. The last clear thing that he remembered, there'd been what felt like a cleaver cosying up to his carotid artery, and falling forwards like he'd just done should have resulted in near-instant spurty death.

:Michael!:

But why had he toppled forwards? Michael frowned as he rocked backwards and swiped futilely at his face in an attempt to clear his eyes. His face felt raw, and Michael hissed as his fingers encountered sticky wetness.

:Michael!: A blast of air that felt superheated, and something large and solid thumping him in the chest. Michael threw his arms around the whatever-it-was in an attempt not to be knocked onto his back. As his fingers encountered snarled, but still silky, hair, sense memory prodded him sharply.

"Giff?"

:Oh, thank the Gods.: Giff exhaled a large breath onto Michael's thighs and slightly loosened the crushing grip he was still maintaining on Michael's mind.

Michael felt dizzy with sudden light-headedness at this and coughed reflexively. The white noise in his ears abruptly died and Michael also found, between one blink and the next, that his vision had returned.

"Why isn't my head cut off?" he asked rather plaintively. "And who's ringing a bell, or am I imagining it?"

:You're not imagining it,: Giff said in a shaken tone as he folded himself down to the ground and curled himself around his Chosen. Michael had not been aware that horses could bend that much.

"Is it the others?"

:It's the Death Bell.: Giff shuddered all over. :For Datti. She—she didn't make it.:

"She chose," Shadowflame said with a bitter twist of irony. "In more ways than I suspect you know, Giff." she limped over to them and stared at Michael. He found it even harder than usual to meet her unflinching gaze; there was something otherworldly in Shadowflame's eyes, and it was in no way diminished by her palpable exhaustion.

"How can we hear it if it's in Haven and we're here?"

Shadowflame grimaced and lowered herself to sit on a broken stone that looked to have once been part of some impressive ceiling vaulting. "I'll leave that answer to the magical horse," she said. Ayren half-hopped, half-flew from out of the shadows to crowd onto the same perch as his Bondmate.

:It happens, sometimes.: Giff didn't seemed inclined to explain any further than that.

Michael sagged against his Companion's side and rubbed gingerly at his forehead. He'd thought that his headache would abate once Giff has released the death grip he'd apparently had on Michael's mind—for who knows how long—but the persistent grinding pain was still front and centre. Quite literally.

"She's really gone?"

:Yes.: There was something unidentifiable in Giff's Mindvoice, almost as if the Companion wanted to say something extra, but not only didn't know how to elucidate it, but was also convinced that Michael and Shadowflame were not the right audience.

"We should find the others," Shadowflame said. "Giff, can you contact Kit or Velaryn?"

Michael felt Giff twitch under him. :I...no. My head hurts.:

"Great." Shadowflame glared at them then at the ground. "I haven't got enough left in me to light a candle, let alone sift through the etheric muck drowning this place. There's no chance of me getting a fix on anyone."

"So—" Michael swallowed a surge of nausea that came from out of the blue. "So what do we do?"

"I'm thinking," Shadowflame replied, before stiffening and muttering something that sounded uncomplimentary in her own language. Michael watched in bemusement as Shadowflame reached out and stroked Ayren's head with one gentle finger, catching the eagle's attention and staring into his eyes for a long silent moment.

"Um." Michael hesitantly broke the silence, hoping that Shadowflame wouldn't hit him too hard.

"I had Ayren speak to Rainfox's bird. They are coming this way. They appear to be in about the same state as us, although second hand information via a corbie and a raptor isn't the clearest in the world."

"Oh." Michael leaned further into Giff and suppressed the urge to whimper as the grinding headache curled down his neck and tied a knot in his spine.

Shadowflame frowned. "You look even worse than I do," she said, uncharacteristic worry colouring her voice.

"It's just a headache," Michael mumbled, closing his eyes briefly.

"Like your Companion also has?"

Michael fought another brush with nausea as Giff shifted under him.

"Spill, horse," Shadowflame said. "What Gift of his did you not bother to appraise the rest of us of? Nor gain any kind of training for, if the way you're both squinting at me is any indication."

:You don't understand—:

"I understand that you both look like backlash is eating your insides worse than it is mine," Shadowflame pointed out. "And, as the Adept that just assisted a Final Strike, I feel that I can be the authority on the matter."

"Datti's gone," Michael said softly, trying to make it seem real, just as Giff said:

:No, listen to me. Michael doesn't have any Gifts.:

Michael blinked and glanced at Shadowflame, aware that a strange silence was spreading around them. The Tayledras woman looked confused. Plain confused, as opposed to, say, annoyed-confused, or, well, any other emotion that found itself unwillingly mated to the baseline of rage that Shadowflame seemed to Michael to find as integral to her life as breathing.

"Um..."

"Latent Gifts. There's certainly been more than enough flying around today to trigger even the most passive of capabilities."

:No.: Giff flattened his ears and looked (even more) miserable as both of Shadowflame's eyebrows leapt towards her hairline. :But he is my true Chosen!:

Shadowflame shook her head slowly. "I am never going to understand your lot. Now if—"

:Well, finally.:

Michael focused on the doorway that he and the girl had entered through what seemed like a hundred years ago. He didn't think he'd ever been so happy to see a giant wolf in his life.

:They're here.: Hirrn shoved at the decaying door with one shoulder and picked her way into the hall. Behind her, down the corridor, Michael could see lights bobbing in the air. Below them, were cautious moving figures.

"You look like something spat you back out after half a mark of chewing."

:I invite you to look in a mirror, Shadowflame,: Hirrn said as she halted in front of Michael and Giff. :Michael, you don't look so good.:

"Headache," Michael managed. "Give Giff the potions that taste bad."

:Have they been like that for long?: Hirrn asked Shadowflame. :Because that is not normal.:

"Backlash," Shadowflame said as the rest of the group filtered into the hall.

Michael noticed that both Kit and Velaryn were the same dirt encrusted and gore spattered grey as Giff; the uniforms of their respective Heralds not looking much better. Tarii appeared to be missing over half of the feathers from her head and neck, and was limping badly, although her staggering gait could have been because Goldleaf appeared to be using her as a mobile crutch. Melli and the other dyheli looked as chewed on as Hirrn, and Rainfox and Krii looked like they'd been trampled by whatever got the dyheli.

"Kernos wept," Yaska muttered as he slid from Velaryn's back. "I think I'm going to be sick. What is that?"

:Neither of them are showing symptoms of backlash severe enough to warrant that kind of dysphoria.: Michael's attention was dragged back to Hirrn. :Now you for example, Miss Adept Mage—:

"It was the only way," Shadowflame retorted gruffly. "And it wasn't entirely my idea."

"No," Venni said. "We know. You heard—?"

"It was hard to miss."

Which was when Michael realised that, at some point, Datti's Bell had stopped. "We can't forget her," he said stupidly, wondering at the words even as he said them.

"We won't."

Michael blinked up at Venni as she leaned down over Kit's shoulder to brush her fingers across the top of his hair.

:Venni, if you try to walk or bear weight on that broken ankle I just spent valuable energy knitting back together, I shall be very upset.:

"Haven's forfend," Venni said. "I think Michael's reacting to what we're sensing."

:Oh?: Hirrn said, which saved Michael having to ask.

"Look at the mages in this little party," Venni said dryly. "I'm sweating chips of ice; Yaska's about three heartbeats from decorating the floor; Rainfox—"

"Rainfox is following in Yaska's footsteps," the Tayledras mage announced in a muffled voice, sagging against Melli's withers.

:Not on me, thank you.:

"And I am so over-extended, I couldn't sense the approach of the next Cataclysm," Shadowflame finished. "Which means that it's the other half of the reason we're here. Any ideas where we start looking? I'm afraid the Blood-mage is dust and all over the room."

Rainfox and Yaska both made gagging sounds.

"Thanksss forrr that inforrrmation," Tarii grumped as she sat heavily, using one foreclaw to push Goldleaf inexorably to a sitting position. "you have at leassst half a concusssion that Hirrrn could not fix. Ssit down, parrrtnerr."

:There.:

"I believe you are right, Kit," Venni pointed in the direction that her Companion was indicating with her nose.

Yaska squinted at them then at the pile of rubble they were indicating. "Whatever's in there is certainly playing merry cob with my Sight."

"Michael."

He focused blearily on Venni, who was now looking back at him. "I know you feel like hoof-parings, but you're the only one who can do this bit."

Michael sighed. "'kay," he agreed muzzily, cursing to himself as he tried to lever himself upright and the world tipped alarmingly sideways.

Giff lurched to his feet and half-dragged Michael upright by the back of his tunic-thing. The number of times today that he'd been hauled around like that, Michael was surprised that his clothing was still in one piece.

The sound of seams popping and a sudden coolness of air down Michael's back was probably the kind of poetic irony that Michael would appreciate a hell of a lot more after chugging a dose dose of the local equivalent of Excedrin extra-strength and sleeping for a week.

:Um.:

"Don' worry." Michael half turned and patted the first bit of Giff that came to hand. That turned out to be his nose, and Giff gave him a slightly startled look before stepping closer.

:I'm right here with you, Chosen.:

"For the love of the Star-Eyed, don't try and help him dig," Shadowflame said as Michael, shadowed by Giff, wobbled over to the mound of rubble. Thankfully, if seemed to be comprised of mainly small fragments and copious quantities of rock dust.

"Quite," Rainfox put in. "If it's making us natives feel like this just being in the same room as it, the gods only know what'll happen if one of us touches the blasted thing."

"Not filling me wit' confidence," Michael muttered as he sagged to his much abused knees and began reluctantly picking up bits of rubble and tossing them aside.

"All of our tests back in Haven showed us that you should be perfectly safe touching it," Venni reassured him. "It is from the same place as you, so there should be no adverse energy conjunctions."

Michael kept his opinion on the number of 'shoulds'-both implied and actual—in that speech. He continued picking away at the rubble pile, coughing slightly as tendrils of dust rose upwards.

"What do I do with it when I've found it?"

:Yes, I am not keen to have my Chosen walking around with the power to unleash another Cataclysm clutched to his breast until the end of days.:

Michael turned to stare incredulously up at Giff. "Not helping. and—breast? Seriously?"

:Sorry.:

"Hence why the finest mages in Haven—bar us—expended themselves making the box," Venni said severely. "We're not just making this up as we go."

"You could have fooled me." Tarii went from sitting to laying with a thump and gave Venni a jaundiced look. "Afterrr all, the coussinss alwayss ssay that 'no plan lasstss passt the firrsst engagement.' The besst courrsse of action isss therreforre to make it up asss you go."

"Which attitude is why some of us needed Hirrn to ensure that all our blood stayed inside more than others."

"Husssh, Goldleaf."

Michael ignored the two Silvers as they devolved into a whispered argument in Kaled'a'in, and shook his head slightly in a vain attempt to dispel the black sparkles that the headache from hell was now seeing fit to drag across his vision.

"Dinda, do you have the box?" Venni asked.

:Yes,: the dyheli replied. :Padded as it is, it's still digging into my back, so I've not lost it.:

"Rainfox, give me a hand," Yaska asked as he sidled from Velaryn's side to Dinda's. "Venni, if you try and dismount now, no-one here will be willing, inclined or able to get you back in the saddle."

:And I shall be very upset,: Hirrn reiterated. Michael caught the glare the kyree was directing at Venni and winced. How Venni could even open her mouth and think of arguing back was utterly beyond him.

Michael paused in the act of brushing away some dust. "I, uh, think I've found something. It looks like silk." A bit more cautious brushing. "With markings on it. I, uh—" Michael tried not to think about how the indistinct markings were the exact same colour as old blood.

:It looks like a pouch,: Giff added, head looming over Michael's right shoulder. :And looking at it feels like someone's pulling my brain out my nose.:

Michael nudged Giff's chin with a raised shoulder. "So, m' headache's actually yours?"

:Maybe? Sorry.: Giff huffed out a sigh and turned his mournful gaze on Yaska and Rainfox, who had approached the (rather smaller) mound of rubble from the opposite side and were pulling grey silk wrappings away from a metal box that was about the size of a shoebox.

Michael cleared his throat. "What's that?"

Rainfox traced some of the intricate etching that covered every surface of the box. "Containment for that Blood-mage's devilry," she said. "Re-purposed from a long-distance teleson amplifier."

It had been a while since Michael's inner dyheli dictionary had been put to the text, but it rose to the occasion and equated that kind of teleson to a cellphone with 1980s levels of mobility.

"So...?"

"So you just need to pick up the battery and put it in here." Yaska removed the lid from the box, revealing it to be filled with bright blue silk heavily embroidered with patterns in thick silver thread. He kept hold of the lid as Rainfox carefully unfolded the silk until there was an obvious depression in which to drop the battery.

Michael steeled himself and reached out to pick up one corner of the red silk bag. He singularly failed to burst into flame or die horribly, which had to be about the first thing that had gone right today.

"Do I just lob the whole thing in?"

"Lob?" Shadowflame queried, the tone of her voice making it clear what her expression would be if Michael turned around to look.

:Oh, Chosen.:

Venni cleared her throat. "If you'd just upend the pouch over the box. We don't want to risk whatever spells are on that pouch interfering with ours."

:Going 'boom!' would be the perfect end to the day,: Hirrn sniffed. :Venni, I am serious about chewing off something vital if you get off Kit's back. Less leaning, please.:

Michael sighed and tried to focus his eyes on the snarled cord that was knotting the top of the pouch shut. "Does anyone have a knife?" he asked. "Hey—" Michael twitched as his fingers brushed across a particularly crusty looking symbol on the pouch.

"What?" from several sources, all of them sharp with worry.

"It gave me a static shock," Michael started to say, breaking off with a yelped curse as the silk seemed to twitch all of its own accord and started to crumble into rotten fragments.

"Don't drop it!" Rainfox exclaimed, her eyes widening with fear. "Goddess only knows what it'll do."

"I'm trying." Michael fumbled as the rotten fabric crumbled further, and the dull black-and-copper of the battery was revealed for the first time.

The mages and Companions recoiled like they had been shot, twisting sideways to cover their faces, or scrambling backwards with discordant clattering of hooves.

The sudden lack of Giff's presence at his back made Michael start and instinctively swing around to check that his Companion was okay. He missed the last of the pouch turning back to dust and running between his fingers, only realising his mistake when cold numbness clutched at his hands and raced up his arms.

Michael gasped out a curse and jerked his attention back to his hands.

Which were black.

And gold.

And cold.

And then there was nothing—:Michael!:—almost nothing—

Nothing at all.