Winds of Change (20 page)

It was unfair. But so was what Father did to me, what he did to the Hawkbrothers, what happened to the gryphons. . . .

Life was unfair. She
knew
that, and so did Need. But she’d been complaining about that unfairness a great deal lately.

:Very good, kitten,:
Need said in her mind.
:You’ve figured that part out. I find it a wonder that you can even grasp “unfairness”, knowing so little else in your life besides it. I am still working on that; it seems inconsistent with what your thrice-damned father taught you. Know this, though: oftentimes the concept of fairness can be a wall to accomplishing what must be done. Worrying over fairness can sometimes impede justice, and that in itself is not fair.:

Nyara nodded, as more awareness of Need’s teaching came to her.

:Now let me show you what
real
unfairness is. . . . :

Vena clung with her fingers and toes to the side of the cliff, and prayed that Heshain‘s Thought-seekers would not find her. . . .

Darkwind had been struggling for several days now to maintain his dignity, his composure, and above all, the signature Tayledras detachment, and failing dismally. The cause, ever and always, was Elspeth. He wondered if all teachers felt like this, or if he was particularly blessed - or cursed - with a student so intelligent and quick that she threatened to run right over her hapless instructor.

“I can’t keep ahead of her, and sometimes it’s all I can do to fly apace with her,” he confessed to Treyvan, as he helped the gryphon affix a set of shelves onto a wall of an interior room, a bit of work that only small, nimble, human hands could manage. Treyvan and his mate had expanded the original lair quite a bit since things calmed down, reconstructing the original walls of the building that had stood here, then creating several rooms where there had once been only two. Why the gryphon would want shelves, he had no idea - but then, there were a great many things he still didn’t know about the gryphons. For all he knew, they collected
hertasi
carvings and wanted to display them.

Darkwind hammered on a stake and tied support cords from it. Finished, flat boards such as the gryphons had discovered were hard to come by, and he wasn’t going to waste them on wall mounts; he was using a variation on the Tayledras’
ekele
construction, that of anchored, co-supporting lines.

“Ssso what iss the trouble?” the gryphon asked genially. “You have had much more tutelage than she, and access to more knowledge.” He lounged in the corner and watched Darkwind with half-lidded golden eyes, not out of laziness, but because he had just eaten, and the gryphons, like the raptors Darkwind knew so well, rested after filling their crops.

“I can’t do everything,” Darkwind admitted, with a touch of annoyance. He shook his hair out of his way, and aligned the support he was working on with the others. “I haven’t actively worked magic in years, and my memory of what to do is a little foggy. My magical skills are - well - as stiff as muscles get if not exercised regularly. And, the Mage-Gift fades if not used.”

“Asss any other attribute,” the gryphon agreed. “Asss in hunting, sswordsskill, or musssic.”

“Well, mine’s creaky with disuse,” Darkwind sighed, “And I can’t re-learn everything I’d forgotten
and
teach Elspeth, too. It was all right when she didn’t know anything about mage-craft, because I could set her to work on something basic, while I practiced something else. But now - that won’t work anymore,”

The gryphon stopped in the middle of a la
I
y stretch, and blinked at him, claws still extended, back arched. “Ssshe isss that quick?”

“She’s that quick,” Darkwind told him, setting the last support firmly into the wall. “The problem is that her people have made quite a science of mind-magic, and she’s very good at it. Although she says she isn’t particularly outstanding.” He snorted. “Either it’s the one and only time I’ve caught her being modest, or her people are frightening mind-mages. Good enough to stand equal with an Adept.”

“And in mind-magic there isss enough sssameness to give her a basssisss in true magic,” Treyvan supplied. “Isss there alsso enough sssameness to causse her trouble?”

Darkwind wedged the heavy shelf into the support-loops and eyed it critically, ignoring the question for the moment. “How level do these have to be?” he asked. “What are they for?”

“Booksss,” Treyvan replied, completing his stretch. “Jussst booksss, many of them. Ssso long asss they do not fall, it iss level enough.”

Books? Where is he getting books?
He sighted along the shelf again. It slanted just a bit, but not enough for most people to notice. Or it just might be the uneven stone floor that gave the illusion that it slanted; it was hard to tell. It would certainly do for books - wherever the gryphons had gotten them. And whatever they planned to do with them. He couldn’t imagine them reading, either -

“Yes,” he admitted, finally. “There is just enough that mind-magic has in common with true magic to make her ask me some really difficult questions and to occasionally get her in trouble. And that’s the problem - if she’s asking me questions, I’m distracted from polishing my own skills. And when she gets into trouble, it’s sometimes difficult to get her out again, because I am, well, rusty. I’ve forgotten most of the specifics. It’s more annoying than anything else at the moment, but it’s going to be dangerous when facing an enemy.”

And how would I explain that to her countrymen? “I’m sorry, but I seem to have let your princess get killed. I hope you have a spare?”

“Can you not asssk anotherrr Adept to train herrr?” the gryphon asked, his crest-feathers erect with interest.

He sighed, put his back to the wall, and slid down it to sit braced against the cool stone. “That’s just the difficulty, you see. I sponsored her as Wingsib; unless I
really
get into trouble, she’s my problem and my responsibility. We don’t have that many Adepts in the first place, and, frankly, none to spare to teach Elspeth.”

Besides, I can just imagine what would happen if she were to pull one of her impertinent little questions on, say, Iceshadow. And how would I explain
that?
“I’m sorry, but your princess seems to have gotten a bit singed. Don’t worry, truly, I’m sure everything will grow back as good as new. “

Treyvan scratched meditatively for a moment, then said, “Well, what of me?”

Darkwind frowned, not understanding the gryphon’s question. “What about you?” he asked.

The gryphon coughed, and cocked his head to one side. “It ssseemsss to me that I could train herrr. I am Masssterrr, and my ssskillssss, while not Adept-classs, arrre quite finely honed and in usssse. I am sssurely good enough to ansswer herrr quessstionsss, get her out of tanglesss, and drill you both. Anything I cannot deal with, you can sssurely an ssswer, sso long as the child isss not breathing firrre down yourr neck.” His beak gaped in that familiar gryphon grin. “Besssidess, I doubt ssshe will give me asss much backtalk asss sssshe givess you!”

This was the answer to all his problems. He’d known the gryphon was
some
kind of mage. He’d seen it proven, and levels were largely a matter of power rather than skill, once one reached anywhere near to Master.

“Would you?” he said eagerly. “Would you really do that?”

The gryphon made a chirring sound, something between a snort and a chuckle. “I ssssaid that I would, did I not? Of courssse I will. It will be amusssing to teach a human again.” He eyed Darkwind speculatively. “What isss more, featherrrless sson, I sshall drrrill you asss well. I sshall assk Hydona to help me.”

Darkwind suddenly had the feeling a sparrow must have when caught out in a storm. He could bluff Elspeth when he didn’t know an answer or concoct a spur-of-the-moment fake that would hold until he recalled the real answer. He wouldn’t be able to do that with Treyvan.

And what was more, by the glint in Treyvan’s eye, the gryphon knew he’d been doing exactly that.

On the other hand, he needed the drill badly, and Treyvan was the only one likely to offer. He didn’t like to go to the other mages and beg for their help; many of them were working themselves into the ground, first shielding, then trying to Heal the Heartstone. The rest, now that the rift between mages and non-mages had been dealt with, were often working the borders with the scouts. Thanks to them there were proper patrols and reasonable work shifts, and the scouts were no longer spread so thin that if one of them were ill or injured, it meant a gaping hole in their border coverage. Those holes were how Falconsbane had gotten in and out of their territory at his leisure.

But that meant there was no one Darkwind really wanted to ask to help him re-train. Except Starblade - but there were too many things between Starblade and he that had yet to be resolved. Besides, Starblade had task enough in simply being healed.

“There isss ssomething more about Elssspeth, iss there not?” Treyvan asked. The gryphons’ perceptiveness was a constant source of annoyance for Darkwind. It was impossible to be self-indulgent around them. “You have feelingsss beyond the ssstrictly necesssarrry. Sssomething - hmm - perrsssonal?”

He flushed. “Not really,” he replied, more stiffly than he would have liked. “I’m attracted to her, of course. But that would happen with any beautiful young woman that became my pupil. It’s a natural occurrence in the student-teacher relationship, when both student and teacher are young, and their ages are close.” He winced at saying that; he’d sounded pompous, and he’d come perilously close to babbling. But better that than have Treyvan think there was more between them.

“Of coursse,” Treyvan said blandly. Too blandly. He could hardly take exception to that. He could suspect that Treyvan was teasing him, but he could prove nothing - which was, of course, exactly what Treyvan wanted. So long as Darkwind couldn’t prove a real insult, the gryphon could tease ail he wanted.

Crazy gryphon. Treyvan and his sense of humor,
he thought sourly.
He’d laugh at his own funeral.

“Anyway,” he continued, as if Treyvan had said nothing at all, “With you drilling her, that won’t come up. I will be too busy with my learning, as will she, and I sincerely doubt she will have any interest in you as a ... uhm. . . . I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you.”

“Oh,” Treyvan replied, a definite twinkle in his eyes, “I won’t.”

Darkwind gritted his teeth; Treyvan was trying to annoy him, and there was no point in letting the gryphon know he was succeeding. That would only encourage him.

And after all, Treyvan had put up with plenty of harassment from Darkwind’s bondbird, Vree. The forestgyre had a fascination for Treyvan’s crest-feathers, and attempted to snatch them any time he had the chance, no matter how often or forcefully Darkwind warned him off. Sometimes, much to Treyvan’s discomfort, he succeeded in getting a claw on them, too. Once when Treyvan was in molt, he’d even managed to steal one.

I
suppose I can put up with a little teasing. Unlike Vree, Treyvan is at least not snatching at body parts in his joking.

But he would rather that Treyvan had chosen another subject for the teasing besides his feelings toward Elspeth. . . .

*
  
*
  
*

Hydona hissed and clacked her beak to get Elspeth’s attention; Darkwind ignored her, for he had learned that Treyvan would use any moment of distraction to send lances of carefully tempered power at the Hawkbrother’s shields. And Treyvan was watching him very carefully without seeming to; the advantage of the placement of the eyes on gryphon heads. They had excellent peripheral vision; a full three-quarters of a circle, and sharper than Darkwind could believe.

Despite Treyvan’s comment about asking his mate, Darkwind had not expected that both gryphons would show up to tutor them. But when he and Elspeth traveled across the pass-through to the Practice Ground, four wings, not two, lifted to greet them.

“Hydona hass more patience than I,” Treyvan had said jovially. “And ssshe hasss taught morrre than I. Ssshe thought ssshe might be a better teacherr for Elssspeth.” His eyes glinted. “That leavesss me morre time to tutorr you.”

Hydona trilled. “Tutorr orr torturrre?”

“What about the young ones?” Darkwind had asked, worriedly, trying to ignore Hydona’s remark. “The Heart-stone still isn’t safe for little ones to be near, even with all the shielding we’ve put on it.”

“They are at the lair,” Treyvan had replied. “The evening of the celebrrration had an unexpected outcome. The
kyree,
Torrl, hasss decided to ssstay with usss to aid yourr folk in ssscouting, and hisss young cousin, Rris, arrrrived yesssterday to join him. Rris watches the younglingsss. He ssays he isss glad to do ssso.” Treyvan grinned hugely. “It ssseemss that we are sssuch thingss of legend that it isss worrth it to him to be the brrrunt of the younglingsss’ gamesss to be nearrr usss.”

Darkwind could only shake his head. The
kyree
were large, yes, but by no means the size of a half-grown gryphlet. Lytha and Jerven could bowl
him
over without even thinking about it; they would certainly give that poor
kyree
plenty of reasons to regret his offer.

I
can just imagine the games they‘II get up to. Pounce and Chase, Scream and Leap, Who-Can-Send-Rris-Rump-Over-Tail.
...