Arrow's Fall by Mercedes Lackey

greeting.
    “Your aura, child, is unmistakable—and right glad I am to feel it again.”
    She took both his hands in her own, wrinkling her nose a little at the pungent odors of the still-room. “I hope you’re glad to see me for my own sake, and not because you need me desperately,” she replied.
    Much to her relief, he assured her that there were no Heralds at all among his patients at the moment.
    “Just wait until the Midsummer storms South, or the pirate-raids West, though!” he told her, his dark eyes rueful. “Rynee will have her Greens by winter; she’s got every intention of going back South to be stationed near her home. You’re back in good time; you’ll be the only trained mind-Healer besides Patris here when she leaves, and it’s possible we may need you for patients other than Heralds.”
     
    Next she returned to the Herald’s Wing for an interview she had not been looking forward to.
    She knocked hesitantly on the door to Elcarth’s office; and found that not only was Elcarth there, but that the Seneschal’s Herald was with the Dean.
    During the next hour she reported, as dispassionately as she could, all that had happened during her internship. She did not spare herself in the least, admitting fully that she had concealed the fact that she was losing control over her Gift; admitting that she did not confess the fact until forced to by Kris. She told them what Kris had not; that she had nearly killed both of them,
    They heard her out in complete silence until she had finished, and sat with her hands clenched in her lap, waiting for their verdict on her.
    “What have you concluded from all this?” Elcarth asked unexpectedly.
    “That—that no one Herald can stand alone, not even the Queen’s Own,” she replied, after thought. “Perhaps especially the Queen’s Own. What I do reflects on alt Heralds, and more so than any other just because I’m so much in the minds of the people.”
    “And of the proper usage of your Gift?” Kyril asked.
    “I—I don’t really know, entirely,” she admitted. “There are times when what I need to do is quite clear. But most of the time, it’s so—so nebulous. It’s going to be pretty much a matter of weighing evils and necessity, I guess.”
    Elcarth nodded.
    “If I have time, I’ll ask advice from the Circle before I do anything irrevocable. But most of the time, I’m afraid I won’t have that luxury. But if I make a mistake . . . well, I’ll accept the consequences, and try and make it right.”
    “Well, Herald Talia,” Elcarth said, black eyes bright with what Talia finally realized was pride, “I think you’re ready to get into harness.”
    “Then—I passed?”
    “What did I tell you?” Kyril shook his head at his colleague. “I knew she wouldn’t believe it until she heard it from our lips.” The iron-haired, granite-faced Herald unbent enough to smile warmly at her. “Yes, Tafia, you did very well; we’re quite pleased with what you and Kris have told us. You took a desperate situation that was not entirely of your own making, and turned it around, by yourselves.”
    “ And we’re satisfied with what you told us just now,” Elcarth added. “You’ve managed to strike a decent balance in the ethics of having a Gift like yours, I think. So now that you’ve had the sweet compliments, are you ready for the bitter? There’s a Council meeting shortly.”
    “Yes, sir,” she replied. “I’ve been . . . warned.”
    “About more than just the meeting, I’ll wager.”
    “Senior, that would be compromising my sources—”
    “Lord and Lady!” Elcarth’s sharp features twitched as he controlled his urge to laugh. “She sounds like Talamir already!”
    Kyril just shook his head ruefully. “That she does, brother. Well enough, Talia—we’ll see you there. You’d best be off; I imagine Selenay is wanting to discuss a few things with you before the Council meeting itself.”
    Talia knew a dismissal when she heard one, and