Andre Norton - Gryphon's Eyrie

When the last flick of Arren’s russet-colored tail had disappeared, I turned, only to find Guret watching me with some of the same intensity that I had fixed on Joisan. “Guret,” I said, slowly, looking directly at the young man’s plain, sturdy features beneath his unruly thatch of dark hair, “does aught strike you as… unusual … about the Lady Joisan since we returned from the scout?”

He shrugged, turning to slap a fly that had lighted on Vengi’s sweating crest. “Nothing to speak of, m’lord. Why?”

“I don’t know,” I said, studying him. “But I will speak of it later, to her, tonight.” I caught his swift, sideways glance, and was even more certain that something was afoot, something well-known to Guret.

“For the moment,” I finished, “let us divide the valley. I will take the western walls, you the eastern. Make this a quick scout, for dark is not far off. We can explore more thoroughly tomorrow.”

He gave me a quick salute of acknowledgment, turning his stallion to the east. Tightening my leg muscles against Nekia’s right side, I headed for the western boundary of the valley. I rode at the fastest jog I dared, my eyes on the rocky walls and forested slopes to my left, letting the mare pick her way. I sighted a few faint scars of trails, but none that I found particularly threatening—unless Nidu’s “Keplian” mount had the balance and agility of a mountain crag-deer or pronghorn.

Guret was waiting for me when, after turning Nekia loose to graze with the other mounts, I reached the rampway to the stronghold above. “Look, m’lord! The way is no longer hidden to me!”

I surveyed the entrance. “It would appear that Kar Garudwyn has accepted you and Joisan as rightful in-dwellers.”

“Accepted? Are you suggesting the hold is alive ?” His glance at the rock walls surrounding us was wary, as though he expected them to sprout hands and faces.

“No,” I made answer, “but the hold and its environs are under a spell beyond anything I have ever encountered, protected by the Power. That is why Nidu could not—

“What is it, m’lord?” Guret asked as I broke off, quickening my pace on the ramp.

“ I cannot, sense Joisan . It is probably nothing, but—Without completing my sentence I began to run, my strides taking me up the ramp, then through the Great Hall in a blur, toward the courtyard with the gryphon fountain, the one fronting that twin peak Joisan had identified as the place out of her own dreams. I was gasping, hand pressed to my aching side, and it was a moment before I could summon breath enough to call out.

“Joisan!” The wind in the heights moaned outside as the sun dropped behind the mountains in a last wash of ebbing scarlet. My hooves clattered in the narrow stone passageway with its multiple slender arches. “ Joisan !”

She was sprawled, pale as death, before the arches facing the twin peak. Arm’s length from her lay the Gunnora amulet, as though she had taken it from her in response to a command, tossing it nearby.

I went to my knees beside her, raising her head, my heart stone-heavy within me. My hands shook so violently that it was many moments before I could steady them enough against her throat to feel the pulse of her lifeblood beneath my fingertips. “Joisan!”

Her breath came and went, regular, slow, deep, as though she slept. Yet her eyelids, near translucent in the glow of the globes on the walls, did not stir. “Joisan!” I called again, summoning now, reaching desperately with the mindsharing. “Wake!”

I shook her, feeling the limp heaviness of her body, then, frantic when she did not rouse, slapped stingingly at her cheek. “Wake, my lady!”

Guret, whom I had outdistanced, came panting into the courtyard. “What happened?”

“She appears to be asleep, but I cannot wake her!”

Guret paled. “Is she hurt? Bleeding?”

“No.” I looked up at him, my lady’s head heavy against my arm. “There is the smell of sorcery about this.”

“Nidu?”

“Perhaps…” I looked over at the amulet. “Hand me that,” I said, beckoning at it.

When he did so, I took it in one hand, shutting my eyes to deepen my concentration. Gunnora , I thought. Amber Lady, hear me please. I know I am a male, but I ask your help for Joisan … Holding the carven sheaf of wheat in my palm, I pressed the talisman to my lady’s forehead, striving to reach her, call her.

Joisan… wake, please. By the Amber Lady, I summon you…Joisan… you cannot leave me… Joisan…

I continued to shut out all else, trying to picture my call sinking through the amulet into my lady’s mind, holding the image of her waking safe and whole. Joisan… dear heart, come back !

Suddenly her deep, regular breaths changed, sharpened into a startled gasp! I opened my eyes to see her looking up at me. “Kerovan? What chances—

I held her close as she trembled, clutching her as though something might arise from the stone flooring beneath us to take her from me. It seemed that all the strength of my arms was not enough to shield her. “Joisan! What happened? You were lying on the floor, with your amulet flung from you as though you took it off by choice…”

“I did.” Her voice was muffled against my chest but I was not about to loosen my grip. “When I looked out upon the mountain peak to where Car Re Dogan stood, I knew suddenly that Sylvya was trying to reach me—and that something was stopping her. So I took off my amulet.”

“Sylvya?” I questioned.

“The Other who has shared her story with me these past few months… she who once lived in Car Re Dogan. Oh, Kerovan, I at last discovered the end of her tale, and it was so dreadful —” Her words choked off in muffled sobs.

“Tell me,” I commanded, believing that sharing her distress might lessen her anguish.

Kerovan’s voice was gentle, but his words were no request, rather a command. I knew as I gazed into his eyes, their amber darkened with concern, that it was time to part with at least one of my secrets. I sighed. “It was while you were gone that I began to dream. And in that dreaming I was no longer Joisan, but another, named Sylvya…”

So I continued, telling him of the sendings that had come to me, gradually revealing the story of Sylvya and her half brother Maleron, the Adept. Finally I reached the part of the tale that had begun today, in this courtyard facing the shrouded ruins of what must be Car Re Dogan. “I carried our gleanings into here, thinking only about kindling a fire for cooking; then, while I was standing over there, near the stone bowl, facing the arches, I could feel her, calling me. Never had our contact been so demanding, so real . I put the food down, and walked over to the opening…” turned my head to look at the arched emptiness cut into the blue stone. “I stood there, before it, knowing that Sylvya was out there, somewhere. That she needed to tell me something. But she couldn’t reach through—there was a wall between us. Then I felt a warmth on my breast, only to see my amulet glow, as though warding off the Shadow.”

Kerovan shook his head, as though he already realized what my next words must be. “Yes,” I admitted, “I took off the amulet, tossed it from me.”

His protesting “Joisan!” rang out at the same moment as Guret’s “Cera!”

“Don’t you understand—I had to know!” I cried. “Sylvya and her fate are important to me—to us. Somehow this is so.”

Kerovan made a brief, dismissive gesture. “Once done is done. What happened then?”

“I was back inside Sylvya’s body, seeing with her eyes, knowing I had just confronted Maleron with that terrible accusation of being Shadowed. He tried to deny that he had taken the Left-Hand Path—I think perhaps even he was not truly aware of just how many steps he had traveled down that route. But Sylvya defied him, telling him that he was the one who had meddled with spells to stop even Time itself, and thus had brought harm to the valley she loved…” I looked directly into Kerovan’s eyes. “ This valley, my lord. The one and same.”