It was good to have Danika with him helping him pick out things for
Cal'an.  He wasn't certain he could have done it on his own.  But her
presence calmed him.

She kept giving him odd looks, but he was too distracted to take any
notice.  He had to get Cal'an's room done.  Everything would work out
then.  Cal'an would get better and come home.

They left with the smaller packages he had picked out.  He and Amadith
would have to come back for the furniture and the other things.

"Dragon Killer!" a voice shouted.

"Just ignore them.  They are ignorant," Danika stated.

But, he was a dragonkiller...

He heard something whizz past his head.

Danika cried, "Look out!" as she pushed him away.  He realised then that
he was putting her in danger.  He should have known better than to
associate with her.

He fled, feeling the draft of Amadith's wings as the cadet-blue dragon
landed next to him.  He dropped the things he was carrying into the bags
on Amadith's saddle and vaulted into his saddle.

Just then, there was a cry from a dragon.

<Kalindeth's rider is hurt.  You should go to her.>

Tair'n froze in indecision, then shook his head.  <No.  It's better for
her if I'm not there.  We have to go home.>

They landed on the ledge of the apartment and Tair'n began unloading the
things he had picked up for Cal'an.  Amadith regarded him in
mystification.  <What are you doing, my rider?>

<Unloading Cal'an's things.  I want his room to be ready for him when he
gets out of the Medical Center.>

<But, he is very ill, isn't he?>

<He'll get better.  He has to.>

He spent the next couple hours clearing all of his and R'ven's things out
of the spare room, his mind shut off from all thoughts except what he was
doing.  He could feel Amadith's concern, but didn't know how to explain to
the dragon that he was right about Cal'an.  All he had to do was make this
room Cal'an's and the boy would get better.

<Amadith, can you call Sinia and see if her rider would help me move some
things?>

Amadith sighed and did as his rider asked.

***

"Tair'n?"

"In here, Ro!"

He turned to look at his sometime-lover staring in confusion at the state
of the spare room.  W'roan studied him, the concern in his eyes apparent.

"I told Cal'an I'd get this room fixed up for him and that it would be all
done when he got out of the Medical Center," Tair'n explained.  "I just
know he'll be all right, Ro.  Just as soon as I'm done here."

"Tair'n..."  The young man looked into Tair'n's crazed eyes and knew
arguing with him would be fruitless.  He sighed.  Best to stay with him
and keep him from getting himself hurt, he supposed.  "Okay.  Whatever you
say.  Just show me what you want me to do."

******

"Gods, I remember this," W'roan commented, pausing over an item he was
putting away into the box beneath the bed in Tair'n and R'ven's room.

"What's that?" Tair'n asked distractedly.

W'roan tossed it into the box and slipped up behind his lover, trapping
Tair'n against the dresser as he pressed on him from behind.  "Oh, just a
little plaything..." he murmurred as his hands went to Tair'n's belt.

Tair'n made an odd, strangled sound in his throat and W'roan looked into
the mirror on the dresser to see Tair'n's face was a mask of terror.

"Tair'n?" he asked, pulling back, feeling himself panic as Tair'n
continued to wimper.  "Tair'n!" he yelled, spinning his wingleader around
to face him.

Tair'n's eyes slowly focused on him.  "Ro..."

"Gods, what happened?  Are you all right?"

Tair'n nodded, slowly.  "I'm fine now.  Let's get back to work."

"I didn't mean to...  I'm sorry, Tair'n.  I won't touch you again, I
promise."

For a brief moment, he saw the pain in Tair'n's eyes, then he looked away.
"It's okay.  You didn't know."

******

<Tair'n, Ammie says you are to go to the Medical Center right away.  It's 
about Cal'an.>

"No..." he moaned.  "I'm not done.  He has to let me get done."

"Tair'n, what's wrong?" W'roan asked, looking over from where he was
trying to get a painting straight on the wall.

"They want me at the Medical Center.  Something about Cal'an."

"Oh, gods.  Do you want me to go with you?"

Tair'n shook his head.  "Stay here and finish what you're doing.  I'm sure
he'll be fine."

But he didn't sound sure.  The conviction was gone from his voice.  W'roan
swallowed and nodded.  "Sure.  Have Amadith keep me informed, so I know
when... to expect you back."

******

He sat in Herin's office, pleading to whatever gods there were that this
wasn't the end.

"He isn't...  He's still...  Oh, please..."

"He's still alive," Herin assured him.  "But, his situation is grave.  His
blood pressure is dropping rapidly and he has, at most, an hour."

"Oh gods, no.  Don't tell me that."

"I'm sorry," the healer said quietly.  "However, there is one thing we
have yet to try.  It's very risky."

"What's that?"

"There's been some experimentation with what they call a blood
transfusion-- taking blood out of one person and putting it in another. 
However, there's something we have yet to identify, some factor in the
blood, that sometimes gets rejected and then it does more harm than good. 
On random donors, the rejection rate is very high.  With relatives, it's a
little better.  We'd like to try it, with your blood."

"And, if he gets this transfusion, he'll get better?"

"It'll give us more time to get the bleeding stopped and it might help to
stop the bleeding, since the transfusion blood clots normally.  However,
if the blood is rejected... it'll kill him for sure."

"What are the odds it'll be rejected?"

"A little over 50%."

Fifty percent.  Fifty percent chance that his son would die.  Fifty
percent chance that he would live for a little while longer.

"And if you don't give him this transfusion?"

Herin shook his head.  "If we don't, you'd best start making arrangements
for his funeral."

Fifty percent.

"Okay...  Anything.  I'll do anything for him.  Take as much of my blood
as you need."

******

They let him stay long enough to know if the transfusion was going to work
or whether it was going to kill Cal'an.  Finally, Herin sighed in relief.
"His blood pressure's up.  He's going to make it."

"For how long?" Tair'n asked.

Herin shrugged.  "We've maybe bought him another ten to twelve hours."

"I can give more tomorrow..."

Herin shook his head.  "We've taken all we can.  More, in fact, than we
should have, but we were desperate.  You can't give any more.  It would be
too great a risk to your health."

"I don't care about my health.  I'm a murderer and a dragonkiller.  But,
Cal'an is an innocent."

"Tair'n, Cal'an is a hemophiliac.  Even if he survives this, there's no
guarantee about the next time."

"There won't be a next time."

"You don't know that.  Hemophiliacs just start bleeding for no reason.
They can't do anything stressful to their joints or they'll start bleeding
into them.  They can't fall down.  They have to be careful shaving.  Any
little bump could kill them.  Hemophilia is, ultimately, a fatal disease."

Tair'n met Herin's eyes as realisation of the enormity of Cal'an's
condition sunk in.  "But, he could live a long time..."

Herin shook his head yet again.  "Your mother was rare to have lived as
long as she did, and have a baby, to boot.  Most hemophiliacs die before
they reach adulthood."

"Why are you telling me all this now?"

"Because you need to know, Tair'n.  If Cal'an lives through this, you be
sure and love him with all your strength, because you won't have him for
long."

******

"Hey, I thought you were gonna warn me before you came back home," W'roan
said as Tair'n stepped into the apartment.  His smile vanished as he saw
Tair'n's face.  "Are you okay?  Is Cal'an okay?  Tair'n?"

Tair'n nodded numbly.  "I had to give him some of my blood, but Herin says
he's got another ten hours or so."

W'roan was steering him to a couch.  "Ten hours?"

"Maybe twelve."

W'roan nodded.

"Unless they can get the bleeding stopped."

"They'll do it," W'roan said with false conviction.  "Noni and Herin are
too stubborn to let a patient of theirs die on them after all that work."

"You mean like Gerald did?"

W'roan fell silent.  Tears began to course down Tair'n's cheeks, silently.
W'roan found a  handkerchief and handed it to his sometimes lover.  Tair'n
wiped his eyes, then stood and walked into the half-finished room for
Cal'an.  He surveyed the walls with their colourful paintings, the books
and toys they'd picked with Cal'an in mind.  He realised suddenly that the
throw rug he'd chosen was mostly red-- the colour of blood.

Blood.

If his son died, it would be because ten years ago he, Tair'n, had
murdered his mother.

His son's blood would be on his hands, too.

"Tair'n," W'roan said quietly, "I know this sounds silly, but there's this
man... a religious man.  I know T'van and Cal'an used to attend his
services once in a while.  Maybe... maybe he could help you."

"How could he help me?"

"He could pray."

Tair'n turned and regarded W'roan.  "Don't tell me you buy that shit?"

"Hey, we don't know it's shit.  Maybe there's something to it," W'roan
answered defensively.  "Hell, Tair'n, you swear by the gods all the time.
Why not try praying to them, too?"

Tair'n laughed, suddenly and unexpectedly.  "Yeah, sure.  Why not?  Maybe
he'll even help me with Cal'an's room."

"It can't hurt," W'roan answered.

"I said okay.  Go get him."

"You're sure?"

"Yes.  Go get him."

******

The man had turned out to be a man of gentle expression and soft words,
his hair sprinkled with grey, and his face wrinkled with both caring and
laughter.  He had quietly served in a religious capacity at the warren for
many years, as well as helping out in all manner of other things as the
warren had need.

His name was Osdin.

Tair'n was surprised when the man prayed a short prayer with W'roan and
he, and then turned to the matter of Cal'an's room.

"That's all the praying you're going to do?" Tair'n asked in surprise.

"If it would make you feel better, I can pray some more, but I am sure the
god has heard me already.  To pray more is to show you lack confidence
that you have been heard.  The short prayer is best.  But, to fix up
Cal'an's room, that shows confidence.  You believe you will be heard and
that Cal'an will return to enjoy this room."

Tair'n nodded and smiled suddenly.  "Yeah.  I guess it does."

"Come.  To work.  But don't overstrain yourself.  You'll be weak from the
blood loss."

******

[The next day]

He awoke with a start.  W'roan was curled up beside him and Osdin was
asleep, none too comfortably, in a rocking chair.  He vaguely remembered
laying down for a moment while W'roan and Osdin worked.  It was the last
thing he remembered.

By the look of things, the two had worked for some time after he had
drifted off.

The room was ready.

His smile faded as he thought of the hearing today.  He could end up
banished from the warren, and then what of Cal'an?

He wondered where R'ven had been all day yesterday.

Gods!  Danika!  He'd abandoned her to those rock-throwers.

How could he have done such a thing?

He slipped quietly from the bed and headed out to Amadith.  He could tell
it was late by how far the sun was in the sky.  There were probably only a
couple of hours until the hearing.

Waylene...

He remembered the embarrassment of waking with her and not remembering the
night of passion before.

He shrugged.  A night of passion followed by the man throwing up all over
your floor was probably as unbiased as anyone.

<Up with you, lazy dragon.  I want to check on Cal'an and then get myself
presentable for my banishment in a couple hours.>

<We will not be banished, my rider.>

Tair'n shrugged.  <It might be better if we were.  Then, at least,
Jayleigh and R'ven and Cal'an would be safe.>

<But then you would not be here to be with Cal'an when he awakes.  And you
promised.>

<Well, perhaps I can get special dispensation.  Come on.>

******

Cal'an's bleeding had slowed but not stopped.  Herin assured him the boy
would live until after the hearing, at least.

Danika was asleep when Tair'n stepped in to apologise for abandoning her
the day before.  He had to offer his apologies to a very exhausted R'ven.

R'ven slipped his arms around him.  "It's okay, Tai.  I know you were
distraught and not thinking clearly.  How is he?"

"They're giving him till at least after the hearing."

"Oh, Tai..."

"It's okay...  I mean... it's not like I really know him all that well or
anything..."

"Don't give me that, Tai.  I know you too well.  You know I'm always here
for you."

Tair'n nodded.  "I know.  Gods know why you put up with me."

"You know why," R'ven answered, but didn't say because he knew Tair'n's
distaste with the word he would use to describe his reasons.

Tair'n pulled back from him then.  "I've got to go get ready.  You'll be
there, won't you?"

"Of course I will."

******

W'roan and Osdin were gone when he got back.  Osdin had left a note full
of assurances and good wishes for the hearing today as well as Cal'an's
health.

Tair'n shook his head.  He had to be terribly desperate to turn to a
religious man for help.  Ah, well.  At least Osdin had been a great help
in getting Cal'an's room ready.

Gods, he hadn't told R'ven.  His mate would come home to find the whole
apartment redone.

He giggled.  "I'm really losing it."

<You never had it,> Amadith shot back.

<You may be right.>  He checked his image in the mirror and sighed.
<Well, you, it's time for me to go answer for what I've done.  I'm just
sorry you have to live with it, too.>

<You are my rider.  I picked you knowing there would be both good and bad
times.>

Tair'n mounted Amadith and for answer patted the neck of the mighty beast.
Amadith glided down to the green to in front of the Great Hall.  Feeling
every eye on him, Tair'n slipped off Amadith and began walking stiffly
toward the Great Hall, feeling terribly alone and frightened and impotent.

Much as he had felt the day he had killed his mother.

Respectfully submitted,
 Lynette R. F. Cowper
  Tair'n and Amadith

NRPG: Okay, he's there.

 # Lynette R. F. Cowper        o       INWO Line Editor & Goddess      #
 # lcowper@indy.net             <><     Circle of Janus Secretary      #
 # lcowper@io.com                  o       Captain, USS CALYPSO        #
 # http://www.io.com/~lcowper/  ><>     Warrenlady, Telnor Warren      #