Changing the World: All-New Tales of Valdemar

:Not even a . . . oh, what did you call us? ‘Mind-controlling spirit-beast infesting Valdemar and tricking Kordas—poor simple-minded Kordas!—into placing his people under a tyrannous rule.’: The voice in Navar’s mind was a new one. Somehow as feminine as Ardatha’s was masculine. It belonged to the white horse—the Companion—who walked from the stand of woods behind Ardatha and stood at his side. :If you believe that King Valdemar is so weak and foolish, it’s a wonder you followed him all this way,: the new Companion added.

“I believed,” Navar said simply.

:Then believe in him still,: the new Companion said, more gently now. :Help him. He needs good men. And yes—stubborn ones.:

“To do what?” Navar asked roughly, taking a step toward her.

:What is right,: she answered. :Always—only—what is right.:

Her words were feast after famine, water in the desert. In the east, the baron had been accounted a good man, but to keep his people safe, he had been forced to turn a blind eye to injustices done outside his own borders. So many times in his service to the barony Navar had been forced to balance what was right against what was safe—or politic—or possible—and the actions he had taken had caused him to armor his heart so that he could deafen himself to its promptings.

The reality was so simple, now that he could see it. He had lived so long in that chambered silence that he had nearly succumbed to the greatest folly of all: of believing in evil and refusing to believe in good.

He had believed in Valdemar’s dream when it had seemed dangerous and impossible. He would believe now.

He took a last step forward and reached out his hand. The not-horse placed her soft muzzle into it. :My name is Tisarand, Navar. I would Choose you for my Companion, if you would have a mind-controlling spirit-beast.:

It was as if the sound of her name had unlocked a floodgate within his own mind. His answer—promise and agreement and avowal—came faster than he could form words, conscious choice and automatic answer all at once. Navar took another step forward, wrapping his arms around her neck and burying his face in her silken mane. His body shook with reaction—he had come so close to stealing away into the night thinking Valdemar had been taken over by monsters! Not monsters at all, but something far greater.

Hope.

:I might have gone after you to bring you back,: Tisarand said. :And I would have disliked that very much. We have a great deal of work to do here, Navar.:

“Yes,” Navar said. “Yes, we do.” He took a deep breath. “And the first thing we have to do is get back to the tavern before Doladan comes looking for me. He’s a man of many gifts—including that of getting hopelessly lost within a few yards of his own doorway.”

Tisarand’s mirth sounded like silver bells within his mind, and Navar’s voice sounded strange in his own ears. It was a moment before he recognized the new note in it.

It was joy.

Softly Falling Snow

by Elizabeth A. Vaughan

Elizabeth A. Vaughan writes fantasy romance; her most recent novel is

White Star

, part of the Star series. At the present, she is owned by three incredibly spoiled cats and lives in the Northwest Territory, on the outskirts of the Black Swamp, along Mad Anthony’s Trail on the banks of the Maumee River.

“I believe that is the last issue before us today?” Queen Elspeth the Peacemaker kept her face composed as she rose stiffly from her seat, thus cutting off the possibility of further discussion. Her knees creaked as she straightened up. She’d had more than enough for one day. “The council is adjourned. My thanks, my lords.”

Chairs scraped back as the councilors rose and bowed as she swept out of the room, the full skirts of her Royal Whites brushing the floor.

As Queen’s Own, Lancir had the privilege of accompanying her back to her chambers. He extended his arm, and she placed her fingers lightly on his wrist, as custom dictated.

“The private audiences now, I believe.” Elspeth tried to make her voice regretful, but Lancir had her measure. He arched an eyebrow as they walked toward her chambers.

“Only one, Your Majesty. For some reason, not many seek a private audience with you during this season.”

“True enough. And those that do, don’t linger.” Elspeth agreed. “Refreshing, how they get straight to the point.”