Consultation

Sable Palace, July SY151

Day Thirty-Two

My recuperation continued apace, and a couple of days later, I felt it was time I started getting myself fit again. My two favourite forms of exercise are walking and riding, and I decided to see if I'd recovered enough to try the latter. As far as getting to the stables was concerned, I knew I would either have to walk up the stairs, or ask someone else to teleport me, so I decided to do the former to see how I got on. But by the time I reached the top, I felt decidedly out of breath, which was rather disheartening. I took a few moments to recover, and then crossed the bridge to where the stables were located.

"It's good tae see ye up and about, Your Majesty," said the head groom, Stuart Briscoe, throwing me a salute as he saw me walking across the stable courtyard.

"Thanks, Stuart," I answered, "I thought I'd take a ride today."

"Aye, sir. Give me ten minutes, and I'll saddle Eliane for ye."

I couldn't immediately remember which horse Eliane was, but I trusted that Stuart wouldn't play a trick on me and give me a mount I couldn't handle. After all, rumours of my recent indisposition had almost certainly made the rounds in Sable City. I sat myself down on bench in the stable yard and waited, watching as Briscoe's troop of stable hands and grooms went about their business, and was a little surprised a few minutes later when someone I recognised, but couldn't put a name to, sat beside me, also dressed for riding. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with dark hair - greying slightly at the temples - and well-defined, patrician features.

"Afternoon, Robert," he said, his affable tone indicating prior acquaintance with me - that I couldn't identify him was frustrating. "Want some company?"

I looked at him cautiously.

"I wasn't planning on it," I answered.

"I think your doctors might have other ideas," he said, with a smile, a slight Scottish burr to his voice, "Andrew brought me through - it's been a while since I've been in Sable, as I can't get here myself."

"You've been here before?"

"Occasionally. You don't know who I am, do you?" he countered, "I should have expected that." And he offered his hand. "Adam. Adam Sinclair."

As I took it, I dredged my remaining memories for anything I could recall about him, and finally placed him: Terra Magica, something important in the magical community, and I fancied he was also a doctor of some kind, although I couldn't figure out what sort.

"Sorry...Adam," I said, feeling a little awkward, "I should have known."

"Nothing to apologise for. Andrew said you were suffering from memory loss, and that you weren't always putting names to faces. In fact, that's part of the reason he asked me to come and see you - he wondered if I might be able to help you remember."

"Gabriel's been working me on that."

"Aye, but when I checked in with him, I got the impression he'd only had limited success. So he welcomed a second opinion - I think the idea of you as his patient makes him nervous, Robert." The last was said with a slight chuckle.

"I can't imagine why."

"Oh, I can think of one or two reasons. Ah, there's Stuart..." and any response I might have made - or, indeed, any objection I might have had to him accompanying me - was forestalled as Briscoe returned leading a grey mare, with one of his stable hands holding a fine-looking bay gelding. Briscoe presented me with the grey, and I quickly mounted up, albeit a little stiffly as the relevant muscles hadn't been used in far too long. As Adam swung himself onto the saddle of the bay with practised ease, I realised that he and I had gone riding together before, more than a few times, and realised that there had been both friendship and trust between us, in the time when I could remember - as well as the working relationship it occurred to me that he and I had.

"Your taste in horses is still excellent," he said as he made himself comfortable, and lengthened the stirrups. "What's his name?"

"That's Miller, Sir Adam," Briscoe supplied, thus saving me the embarrassment of not being able to answer, when by rights I should know all the horses in my stables. I nodded my thanks to him, and then lightly touched my heels to Eliane's side to move out of the stable yard.

"Do you have a destination in mind?" Adam asked, as he and Miller fell in beside me.

"I was thinking of riding down through town."

"If you'd like I can take us to the north side of the caldera - I seem to recall that there are some good gallops round there, if you feel up to it."

"You're recalling more than me," I answered, a trace of bitterness in my tone, which elicited a sympathetic expression from him.

"Sorry, Robert. That wasn't my intention."

"Forget it, Adam," I said, after a moment, "I'm getting used to it."

"Maybe once we're back in the palace I can try to help relieve the problem," he answered, "Shall I 'port us?"

I shrugged, so he leant over, rested his hand on Eliane's mane, and after a few moments, teleported us, horses and all. From their lack of concern on arrival, I guessed that they had been through that process before. The spot he chose for us to arrive was where the pumice desert to the north of the caldera gave way to grassland, albeit that the grass was stunted and brown-looking in the summer heat.

"Have you been short of rain?" he asked.

"I haven't really been able to keep tabs," I answered.

"Of course...Gabriel mentioned that he'd advised you not to use your abilities."

"And he hasn't lifted the ban yet. You have no idea how frustrating that is, given how much I guess I use them." The last was said with a great deal of feeling, as I was beginning to chafe under the restriction, "it's almost like losing a limb. Still, hopefully they'll reconsider soon."

"I can imagine," he answered, his tone sympathetic, "on the rare occasions I've been hors de combat when our Council work and Hunting hasn't gone according to plan, it's been hard. Come on, let's put these two through their paces."

We rode for an hour or so, although we didn't say a great deal to each other. At least from my point of view, I was finding it more tiring than I had expected, and was putting all my concentration into maintaining my seat and keeping Eliane where I wanted her to go. I think Adam recognised this, but thankfully didn't comment. Instead we rode in companionable silence, until I had to admit that I'd had enough for the day - my muscles were aching, and I felt dog tired. He nodded his understanding, and after a few moments, teleported us back to the end of the light bridge, from whence we returned our mounts. Once we had left the stables, he again did the honours, and we were back in the courtyard in the centre of the palace. "You really do know this place," I said, amused, as we arrived, and he nodded. "It was good to get out, but I have to admit I'm ready for a sit down and a drink. Are you joining me?"

"It was my intention," he answered, his tone serious, until he added more lightly "especially as you're likely to have an open bottle of that very fine '78 MacAllan which you seem to have the monopoly on nowadays."

I chuckled as I remembered that Adam Sinclair and I had very similar taste in whisky, and we headed into the library through the French door out into the courtyard cloister. I poured two glasses of the specified MacAllan, handing one to my guest, and then indicated for him to sit with me by the fire - not that it was burning, in July, but because that was where my favourite leather armchair was.

"You're doing exceptionally well, from all the accounts I've heard of happened."

"I'm bloody unfit, though," I answered, ruefully, "especially if today is anything to go by."

I saw a wry smile cross his face. "That's not entirely surprising," he said, "you've always been pretty active - riding, walking or some such most days. And you've effectively been laid up for...what...over a month now...?" I nodded "...having sustained some very major injuries, and not a little of it spent in a coma. You're bound to be unfit, but all things considered..."

"I know, Adam," I answered, "not least because I've lost count of how many people have been telling me how exceptionally well I'm doing since I came back to the land of the conscious. But it's beginning to wear on me. I want to be fully functional again. I'm not even being allowed to do the simplest spells, let alone use Trumps or anything else."

"Rome wasn't built in a day."

I smiled. "Sable was."

"Unfair answer," he replied, his tone light, although there was something more serious in his expression, "us mere mortals can't think like that."

"I can't help the circumstances of my birth," I replied, with a shrug.

"No," he acknowledged, "and in fairness, it's not something you hold up in front of me all that often. But indulge me for the fact that I try not to think about exactly what you are. Past lives I'm comfortable with - effective immortality and Godlike beings, even ones who share my faith and work for the Light, less so."

He took a drink from his glass and then looked over at me, approvingly. "As good as ever."

"Glad to hear it," I said, doing the same, "So...Andrew's been talking to you."

"He gave me a rundown of what happened - showed me a rather disturbing holo-crystal, actually." I looked at him, as if to ask him to explain. "Someone filmed what happened."

"Who?"

"He didn't say."

"Strangely, they haven't shared that with me yet," I said, with a chuckle, "maybe they're afraid I'll be upset."

"It's not a pretty sight, Robert," he answered, seriously, "but perhaps I should let you see it, so that you can put where you are now in comparison properly into perspective...and see why people keep telling you how well you're doing."

"You have it with you?"

He took a round, clear gem out of his pocket, and tossed it to me. It looked so innocuous. But when I tried to activate it the usual way a mage uses a crystal - by reaching out for the magical 'on' switch built into it, which I thought I could get away with - I found I couldn't. Something seemed to be missing, which was stopping me triggering it. At that point I decided to break doctor's orders, and tried to run through some simple cantrips - a light spell, a fatigue-banishing spell, a checkspell for magic of Shadow. Nothing. And in that heart-stopping moment, it dawned on me what was missing. I had no access to my Talent whatsoever. Instantly, I felt the colour draining from my face.

"What's wrong?" Adam asked, putting down his drink and rising from his chair, concerned. "Robert, you've gone as white as a sheet."

"Did you, Malcolm or Gabriel actually block me from using magic? Rather than just tell me not to?"

"I certainly didn't," he answered, "this is the first time I've been here since you were hurt. And neither Malcolm not Gabriel mentioned anything, although I can check easily enough. Why?"

"Adam, I'm mage-blind," I answered, "I can't feel the Talent."

"Are you sure?" he asked, more puzzled than shocked initially.

"Of course I'm bloody sure," I replied, hotly, trying not to panic. If my magic was gone, what else was...?

"Calm down," he said, quietly. He pulled one of the smaller wooden chairs over and placed it beside the arm of my chair, before sitting within reach of me, suddenly professional, rather than friendly, "Have you used any form of magic at all since it happened."

I shook my head. "I've honestly been playing ball. I mind-linked with Claire a couple of times early on when I couldn't talk, and also with Kita, just a few days ago, but that was physical. My shields were weak, but I hadn't connected that with anything other than recovery from what had happened, and as yet haven't tried to fix that. Oh, and I adjusted time here in Sable, but that was my innate ability as its master, rather than anything else. Straight magic...no, not until about two minutes ago when I tried to trigger that crystal. "

"Who's Kita?"

"My daughter."

"Could she have done something untoward while she was in your mind? Claire I'd trust implicitly, but..."

"I'd swear she didn't," I answered, although I felt a coldness in the pit of my stomach as I hoped I was right.

"I think I'd better take a look. First, you need to centre. Take several deep breaths and try to relax."

I was about to argue - relaxing was the furthest thing from my mind - when he caught my eye and I could feel him willing me to be calm. I let myself be willed, and could feel my breath coming more evenly again.

"Better. Now, you and I have worked with each other before - even if you don't remember. And so right now, I'm going to need for you to trust me."

"I'll try."

"That's the best I can ask for. First, I'll put you into a trance, and then I'll see what I can see."

I felt a cool hand squeeze my wrist - a gesture which was obviously some kind of prearranged trigger, as I felt myself entering a trance almost instantly - and then, very gently, I felt him forming a mental link with me. He seemed a little surprised as he slid past what remained of my shields, and then I could feel a gentle probe in my mind as he tried to find why I couldn't access my Talent. As he worked, I knew he had been telling the truth - we had worked together before in an arcane capacity, fairly often, I suspected.

He concentrated for what seemed like hours, before I felt his mental touch receding. Then he gently brought me out of the trance - although still leaving me relaxed - and removed his hand from my wrist.

"Diagnosis?"

"I'm not sure there's a good way to tell you this, Robert, so I'll be direct. There's been a lot of damage...we knew that... From what I could see in your mind, a lot of your original cerebral tissue was destroyed when you were shot. The fact that you can shapeshift has given you the option to grow it back, which wouldn't have been available to a human like myself, hence your remarkable recovery up until now. On the negative side, because it is new tissue, large parts of your mind are a blank slate which is going to need rewriting: a lot of your memories will have been lost when the original tissue was destroyed - if anything, I'm actually surprised that you retained as much as you did, although I'm pleased that that was the case."

"Why didn't anyone notice before?"

"I know you better than Gabriel does," he answered, "and I have more of an idea of what should be there. Gray and I have both worked with you on an arcane level much more than he has. Also, I suspect I have a better feel for your rather unusual physiology than he does: for all he's your resident mind mage, I very much doubt he treats a lot of shapeshifters, and even if he did, such extensive trauma is thankfully rare."

"What has this got to do with my Talent...or lack thereof?"

"In and among the reconstructive surgery which your brain has been performing on itself, the pathways which control it don't appear to have regrown correctly."

"Which means?"

"It means that at the moment, while your Talent is still present, being primarily genetic, it is effectively blocked - much in the way that the Council occasionally has to do as a punishment - and unless we do something about it, it's going to stay inaccessible."

"That doesn't sound all that good."

"You do have a knack for understatement," he answered, more lightly, "Robert, the bottom line is that I'm going to have to go into your head and physically realign the pathways to give you back access to that part of your mind."

"Sounds like the sort of thing I usually fix for other people," I said, as another memory surfaced.

"Yes, but unfortunately, you can't help me with this - you're going to have to be the passenger on this one."

"What about Gabriel?"

"Meaning no slight to his considerable abilities, the same argument applies as to why he didn't truly appreciate what the problem is. However, as he's been your attending physician, he ought to be made aware of what I propose, and be present if he wishes. For preference, I would choose Gray or Claire to help me - possibly both - as I've worked with Gray before, and Claire knows you better than anyone else, as well as bringing a shapeshifter's perspective to things. Is the General in Sable at the moment?"

"As far as I know - and if he isn't, he could be called back."

"If I take lead, with Claire's assistance, we should be able to fix it between us - I would consider myself Gabriel's equal in something like this - and if necessary, Gray can be on hand if it doesn't go as I expect."

"When do you want to do this?"

"I imagine you'd like us to do it as soon as possible," he replied.

"Hell yes!" I answered.

"Then I suggest this evening. If you can arrange things with Gray, Claire and Gabriel - I should probably get some rest, if I can borrow a room, as this is going to be a long, tiring procedure."

"Of course."

I tossed off the remains of my glass of whisky and he did the same, and then I called for one of the servants to find him some quarters where he could rest and freshen up. I sent a message up to the Maze - the Sable security services HQ, up in the city - requesting Gray to join us at ten that evening, and outlining the reasons why. Then I went to talk to Gabriel - who agreed to be present as an observer only, but insisted that we work in the infirmary under his and Malcolm's supervision. After that, having a lie down myself seemed like a good idea, especially as my muscles were beginning to ache from unaccustomed use.

When I opened my eyes, Claire was sitting on the edge of the bed beside me.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"About nine-thirty," she replied, "how are you feeling?"

"Stiff," I answered, feeling muscles I'd forgotten I had after the afternoon's exercise, "maybe I overdid it."

"You'll be fine," she answered, "you were bound to suffer a little to start off with."

"Did you ask Adam to keep an eye on me out there?"

She shook her head. "That was Gabriel's idea...although I didn't object."

"Hmm...still conspiring against me, eh?" I asked, lightly.

"And will be until you've been properly signed off as fit to return to active duty," she answered, without a trace of regret.

"Did Adam also tell you what he'd found?"

"He did...I must admit, it didn't even occur to me to look for that particular problem."

"It doesn't sound as if it occurred to anyone else," I answered, "heck, it didn't even occur to me until I tried to use that crystal."

"So you did try to use your magic?" she said, with a trace of annoyance.

"Honest to God not until then," I replied, "and that said, activating a crystal is so simple, and so fundamental, I didn't feel as if it would do any harm. I'll admit that I then tried one or two other things, but only after I realised there was a problem. Claire, it feels as if I've had a leg chopped off or something...the feeling of something that should be there and isn't. Its like feeling phantom limbs after amputation."

"It's not unheard of," she answered, "although it's interesting that you're only feeling it now you know there's a problem."

"Before I was just annoyed with you all for making me work without it voluntarily," I replied, "and now I learn it isn't voluntary at all."

"Adam's good at healing minds, Robert - better than Gabriel, if truth be told, mainly because his actual inherent strength of will is so much stronger: he could walk onto a playing field with your family in that regard, and not be found wanting. I think that's why Andrew suggested bringing him in in the first place."

"I guess we'll see," I answered, "so, back to the infirmary, eh?"

"At least this time you get to walk, de Lacy," she answered, lightly.

I dressed in a loose shirt and some casual trousers, and then my wife and I made our way to Malcolm's domain. Adam, Malcolm and Gabriel were already there - Adam now dressed similarly to myself, for comfort when working.

"Robert, I'm sorry I didn't see this," Gabriel said, as I entered, "I should have." He looked like a man whose confidence in his abilities had taken a severe knock, which was actually being harsh on himself.

"None of us were looking for it," Adam answered, in a tone that suggested that he and Gabriel had been having the same conversation before we arrived. "Don't worry. Hopefully it can be remedied this evening. You're sure you don't mind my taking lead on this?"

"You've given me some very persuasive arguments why you're the logical choice," he answered, accepting it, if not completely happy about it, "I told Robert that Malcolm and I are going to be on hand in case we're needed. Robert, I suggest you lie down and make yourself comfortable."

I lay myself down on the indicated bed, a little nervous if truth be told about what was to follow. While I was beginning to remember having been a healer of the mind myself, I didn't remember ever having been on the receiving end of a mind mage. Mind links, yes, but this was different.

"I hope I'm not too late," came Gray's voice, as he entered the infirmary - dressed in black, I noticed, which I felt was significant - then saw who was present. He crossed to Adam, hand outstretched to be taken by the Scotsman. "Good to see you again."

"And you, Gray," Adam answered.

"So, we have our favourite recalcitrant patient to deal with again, do we?" the former commented, looking over at me, "evening Robert."

"Recalcitrant?"

"I've been hearing how much grief you were giving Malcolm and Gabriel before they finally surrendered and let you out of here the first time," he answered, "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to check in with you since. I've been in Murray, as a certain amount of refocusing of our intelligence efforts has been needed..." He paused a moment, then looked at the others and smiled "...none of the details of which I intend to go into now."

"Glad to hear it," Claire commented, her tone heartfelt, "there's enough time for business later."

"Indeed."

"So what's the game plan, Sir Adam?" Malcolm asked.

"I intend to do the primary work, with Claire's assistance - being Robert's wife, she will have a unique perspective on how his mind works," Adam answered, "I'd like Gray to back us up if needed, most likely with energy rather than magic, given the difference in the disciplines we follow." A nod of agreement from Gray. "I hope you'll agree that all three of us know Robert better than either of you, which means we have a better idea of what we need to fix. The most important thing that you two can do, is make sure that we aren't disturbed, and to be on hand if I need to know any of the specifics of Robert's treatment to date - I know I've read your notes, but that's no substitute for first-hand advice if needed."

I could see that Malcolm was quite happy to accept Adam's words, however, I felt that the younger Gabriel was less content with the line of reasoning. However, he didn't gainsay Adam's proposition, which at least indicated tacit acceptance of the argument.

"And you, Robert, are going to go to sleep now..." Adam said, turning back to me.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Yes, love," Claire answered, gently, "this is going to be a major procedure, and it won't make it easier for any of us if you're conscious and giving what you think is helpful advice."

I began to protest, but Gray cut me off with a sharp gesture of his right hand. "No arguments, Robert."

"Aye, aye, sir," I answered, looking at my friend.

"Let me do the honours," he suggested to Adam, who nodded, and Gray crossed to sit beside me, hand on my wrist in a similar gesture to the one the Scotsman had used earlier. The effect was the same - I quickly surrendered into a trance - and then I could feel as he took that deeper, guiding me gently into sleep.

I'm not sure how much later I woke up, but when I did, Gray was the only one with me, and the feeling that something was missing was gone. Somewhere along the line I'd been put to bed properly, rather than just lying down, fully clothed. I propped myself up and looked at my friend.

"They didn't want you to get cold before you woke up," Gray explained, obviously following my train of thought, "Adam and Claire headed off to get some rest about two hours ago - they were working on you until nearly three in the morning, and both of them were exhausted."

"And Malcolm and Gabriel?"

"They stayed until the end of the working, and then departed themselves, for much the same reason," he replied, then chuckled, "I, of course, don't need to worry so much about inconvenient things like sleep, so I volunteered to stay with you until you came round."

I wasn't entirely sure why he should find a lack of need to sleep funny, but I let it pass.

"Did it work?" I asked.

"They think so, but couldn't actually test it until you awoke," he replied, "how are you feeling?"

"A slight headache, but otherwise fine. I have to know, though..."

"I know you do," he answered, his expression understanding, "Adam guessed you would, too, and he and Gabriel have given permission for you to try one or two very small things...nothing major, more, but at least try. I think they specified a light spell and a checkspell."

"They'll tell me what I want to know," I conceded.

I lifted my hand from the bedclothes and concentrated for a moment. I could feel a slight ache in the back of my head, but at least I could feel the Talent I was drawing on, and after a short while I was rewarded by a faint glow of light in my palm. I concentrated a little harder and the light brightened, before I let it subside and it was gone.

I looked at Gray, relief flooding through me, and he smiled.

"How about the checkspell?"

I concentrated again, and felt for the magic of Sable - and within moments it returned the results I would have expected. Once I was done, though, the headache was worse.

"I think that's enough for now," Gray suggested, noting my discomfort, "are you okay?"

"Relieved...but even that little has given me a headache again."

"I rather think they were expecting that," he answered, "which is why they were rationing what they would allow you to do. They also want you to stay here in the infirmary for a couple of days to make sure there are no unexpected effects."

"I'm back in jail?" I asked.

"They just rerouted the pathways in your brain, which counts a major surgery, however you look at it," he retorted, "even if the methods Adam used are less intrusive than the equivalent on, say, Earth Prime. Give it time to settle, Robert, or you may undo the good they've done."

I sighed, but had to accept that it was the advice I'd have given a patient if I had been the attending physician.

"I can see the logic of that."

"Good...I wouldn't want to have to take steps to force you to stay here," he answered, "why don't you go back to sleep for now, and your doctors will check in with you in the morning."

"What about you?"

"I have every intention of staying here the rest of the night to make sure you don't misbehave," he answered, lightly. "Now, let me put you under again," he said, reaching for my forehead, and a moment or two later I was drifting back to sleep.