Winds of Fury (6 page)

But occasionally painful to learn. . . .
:It wasn't entirely gossip, dear,:
the Companion said, in Mindspeech pitched only for Elspeth to catch.
:Although we've been doing more of that than exchanging any real news lately. Things haven't been all that interesting around Haven
or
k'Sheyna Vale.:
She chuckled mentally.
:I haven't even had to edit for your mother's consumption once during the last two weeks!:

Elspeth laughed out loud. “Just remember, heart of mine, that ‘may your life be eventful' is the worst curse the Shin'a'in know!”

Iceshadow looked over at her quizzically.

“Oh. I was talking to Gwena. She said things weren't as interesting around here as they used to be.”

“Ah. Indeed,” Iceshadow agreed. “I will be glad, after all, to see this Gate built to the new Vale, and find myself living in times
much
less interesting!”

He climbed out of the pool; before he had done more than stand, a little lizardlike
hertasi
appeared with a speed that was close to magical. Iceshadow nodded his thanks, and accepted the thick towel the lizard handed him. Again, Elspeth was forced to confront how much she had changed.

Not only in accepting something that looked like an overgrown garden-lizard as an intellectual equal, but in other ways as well. Iceshadow wore nothing more than his long hair; in fact, no one soaking in this pool seemed terribly body-shy. A year ago she would have blushed and averted her eyes. Now she was so much more aware of what each of the Hawkbrothers and Kaled'a'in here
were
, their bodies were simply another garment for the spirit within.

Iceshadow wrapped the towel around himself, and the
hertasi
looked down at Elspeth. The little lizard-folk who had come with the Lost Clan were much bolder than the
hertasi
native to k'Sheyna: she hardly ever saw the latter, while the former bustled about the Vale, undoing the overgrowth of nearly a decade, as oblivious to watchers as a hive of bees, Except, of course, when someone needed something. They seemed to thrive on tending others. Silverfox had said something about that being “part of” them, but hadn't elaborated except to say that it was due to their “recovery” from a long-ago trauma. She wished she knew more; there was such knowledge to learn, and so little time!

“Need towel?” it said to her. “Need drink?” While the
hertasi
seemed to have an instinctive ability to anticipate the needs of the Tayledras and Kaled'a'in, they were at a bit of a loss with her. Gwena and Darkwind had both tried to explain why; she was still at a loss after both explanations. The Lost Clan lizards were perfectly willing to talk to her, sometimes in Mindspeech, and often in audible speech. Even if their speech was a little difficult to understand, if they didn't mind, how could she?

“Thank you, no,” she replied. “But when Darkwind gets in, he'll want food and drink, please.”

The
hertasi
hissed, “Of course!” and vanished again. Iceshadow gave her a farewell smile, and wandered off to his own
ekele
barefoot. She turned to Firesong, who was leaning back against the stone of the pool's edge and enjoying the massage Silverfox was giving to his long and graceful hands.

It was hard to get her mind on business, but in the next couple of days it
would
be time to leave, and she had better get her mind set about doing so. “Have Treyvan and Hydona made up their minds what they want to do first?” she asked. “I'd be perfectly happy to have them come to Haven as ambassadors, but if there are more Kaled'a'in out there wanting to come back, they
really
ought to go to k'Treva first, as you suggested.”

Firesong made a small sigh of utter contentment, and answered without opening his eyes. “I believe that I have talked them into my scheme, cousin,” he replied. “K'Treva will not be long in moving on to a new Vale; there have been no troublesome outbreaks of any kind for better than a year now. Indeed, we would have moved on this winter, had it not been for your request for help. And if I may boast—k'Treva Vale is second to none. I think that our Kaled'a'in brethren would be most happy there, taking it after we have gone.”

“Is that fulsome description for my benefit,
shaya?”
laughed Silverfox. “I promise you, there are not many who would require convincing. We had not expected to find ourselves offered safe-havens and homes, ready to our hands—yet another miracle of Treyvan and Hydona's doing. And I think that none among you will find fault with our stewardship of what you will leave behind.”

The Kestra'chern tossed his dark hair over his shoulder, and moved his graceful fingers along the tendons of Firesong's wrists. Firesong sighed with content.

It was still very hard to think of Firesong as a relative, however distant. She had not even known that Herald-Mage Vanyel had left any offspring—much less that she and a Hawkbrother Healing Adept were descendants of two of them! Really, she had learned more about herself in the time she had been here than she had learned about magic. . . .

“On the whole, I think it's a better idea,” Elspeth told him. “I'm glad you talked them into it. My people are going to have enough trouble with Darkwind and a Changechild appearing on their doorstep. I'm not sure I want to subject them to gryphons and gryphlets as well.”

“Ah,” Silverfox said shrewdly, “But with gryphons and gryphlets, a Changechild and a Hawkbrother Adept might well look less strange. Hmm?”

“The thought had occurred to me,” she admitted. “But—well, let's just leave things the way they are. The gryphons can always change their minds when Darkwind and I are ready to Gate out of k'Treva.”

“And gryphons are wont to do
just
that,” Darkwind said from behind her, where he had already begun undressing.

She turned quickly with a welcoming smile, and he slipped out of the last of his scout gear and into the warm water of the pool. “Gods of my fathers!” he groaned. “That is wonderful! I thought I had become naught but a man of ice! I have never found anything colder than a spring rain.”

Elspeth could think of several—such as the snowdrifts that she and Darkwind had collapsed into in the aftermath of Falconsbane's banishment—but then, she hadn't been out on the border all day, either. Temperature seemed to depend on context.

“Just be glad that we're going to k'Treva by Gate, then,” she replied. “Skif and I got here the hard way. It's a lot colder outside the Vales up north!”

She tapped his shoulder to get him to turn his hack to her so that she could work on his shoulders, and his skin was still cool to the touch. He must have gotten quite thoroughly soaked and chilled while out patrolling the boundaries of k'Sheyna territory for the last few times. Soon, that would be the duty of the Kaled'a'in, and indeed, Kaled'a'in scouts were making the patrols with the Tayledras to learn the lay of the land that would soon be theirs. Darkwind had gone out alone. and come back late; she didn't even have to ask why. She knew that he was gradually saying his farewells to the hills and trees he'd known for so long.

“The gryphons are envious of Treyvan and Hydona,” Darkwind continued, with an inquiring glance at Silverfox. “Apparently there's something special about the lake near k'Treva. The one the Valdemarans call Lake Evendim?”

Silverfox nodded. “It is the site of the Black Gryphon's defeat of the Dark Adept Ma'ar. They wish greatly to see this. ”

Elspeth laughed. “I tried to tell them that they won't see anything, that it's all under water, but they didn't care. They are still excited about the whole idea, and every other gryphon is dying for a chance to get up there, too. You'd better be careful about how many of them you let come at once, Firesong, or you'll be up to your eyebrows in gryphons!”

“I shall remember that, cousin. And warn the rest of k'Treva,” Firesong replied lazily. “Not that I think such an eventuality would be altogether bad. I find them delightful company, and I'm sure the rest of my Clan will feel the same.”

Darkwind snorted.
“You
haven't been responsible for keeping those feathered eating machines fed! Talk to me after you've been hunting for hours, trying to find something larger than a rabbit!”

Silverfox chuckled. “If you think that this is difficult,” he pointed out, “think about how it must be in a Vale full of breeding gryphons. The gryphlets eat three times their body weight a day until they are fully fledged!”

Elspeth tried to imagine that, and in the end just shook her head. “No wonder you wanted to move here. How do you keep them from stripping the countryside bare?”

“We have herds,” Silverfox replied. “Fear not; we have learned how to manage our own needs and balance them against the needs of the land. We have beasts that are quick to grow, and eat nearly anything. We shall start the herds as soon as you are gone.”

As soon as you are gone
. Darkwind turned his head to smile into Elspeth's eyes, a glint of anticipation in his, and suddenly she was impatient to get back home.
He
was certainly excited about the prospect of leaving his Clan and kin, and seeing new lands. And there had been so much going on that she had missed out on—the twins getting older, the alliance with Karse, Talia being made a titular Priestess of Vkandis—

Home
. . . .

It seemed to beckon her, for all the drawbacks of life there, under a kind of siege.

And now she could hardly wait.

 

Elspeth folded one of the scarlet silk shirts that Darkwind had designed for her; it rolled up into a surprisingly compact bundle, as did most of her Tayledras clothing. She was certainly going to cut quite a figure when she returned. She had the feeling that a lot of eyebrows were going to go up and stay up.

Things had not been as simple to take care of as they had seemed in the aftermath of the victory over Falconsbane. It had taken most of the winter for the party in search of k'Sheyna to journey overland to the new Vale and return. The very first order of business after everyone had recovered from that last confrontation with Falconsbane had been to
find
the new Vale again. That had taken a great deal of searching by mages who had near relatives or dear friends that had been sent on with the children and artisans. In the end they had found it by sending hummingbirds in the right general direction, keyed to those friends, and waiting for the reply.

Finally, after nerves had been strained to the breaking point, they had found the place, and then with the help of gryphon warriors aloft, two mages, the k'Sheyna Adept Silence and the Kaled'a'in Adept Summerfawn, had gone to find it and return with a mental picture of the place. No Gate could be built without knowing what the destination looked like, which made the things rather limited in practicality, so far as Elspeth was concerned. On the other hand, she was deeply grateful that this
was
the case; she did not even want to think of the Gate Spell in the hands of Ancar, if it made it possible for him to go and come at will to any place he cared.

Silence had returned, thin and travel-worn, but smiling and no longer silent. And now bearing the name “Snowfire,” which told everyone that Silence had finally been healed of the emotional trauma that the shattering of the Heartstone and the deaths of so many of k'Sheyna had inflicted, years ago.

With that good omen, it was simply a matter of letting Snowfire rest, and then the Gate between the two Vales, old and new, could be built, and k‘Sheyna would be a whole Clan once more. The Kaled'a'in had another trick up their ornamented sleeves as well; not one Adept, but two would build the Gate; Summerfawn from the new Vale and Snowfire from the old. They would build two Gates in parallel, and fuse them into one; halving the fatigue and doubling the strength.

Tomorrow
. So many things would begin and end tomorrow—though there would be more endings for Darkwind than for Elspeth.

Now, with the culmination of many weeks of work at hand, Elspeth carefully packed away everything she would not need over the next two or three days. She had been a little dismayed at how much she had accumulated, but now that she had begun, she realized that most of it was clothing, and that packed down into an amazingly small volume. Probably because it was mostly silk, or something like silk. . . .

Darkwind seemed unusually silent, although he was packing just as busily as Elspeth.

I wonder if Gwena made it plain to Mother that I'd been sharing quarters with one of my moge-teachers. Probably not. No point in giving her another thing to get hysterical about.
It had seemed rather stupid to keep two
ekeles
when they really only needed one, especially after the arrival of the Kaled'a'in had made things suddenly rather cramped. She had moved in with him, since the
ekele
he had was nearer the entrance to the Vale and had more room than hers.

Perhaps they should have reversed it. Perhaps he would feel the loss less if he had already left his “home.”

He tucked a folded garment into the top of a pack and laced the whole thing shut. “I am very glad that I had already left the other
ekele
that I had built before all this happened,” he said into the silence. “That was my home—for all that it leaked cold air all winter long. Built by my hands. But it seemed foolish to be living outside the Vale once the Heartstone was shielded, so—” He shrugged. “This place we have shared is dear only because we have shared it. It gives me no great wrench to leave it for another, especially after they have had a long journey.”

She stifled a sigh of relief. “I saw how packing up affected Starblade, when he and Kethra had to abandon the place Falconsbane wrecked. It was very emotional for him, and I couldn't help think that leaving your home and your Vale both at once was going to give you some problems.”