Mercedes Lackey - Winds Of Change

" Not quite purrrrely, I expect," Treyvan admitted. "But we have not had the prrresssuresss of the Ssstar-Borrrn to ssshape our language differrrently. Sssshe doess not meddle ssso much with usss asss with you."

" Thisss all can wait, I think," Hydona interrupted firmly. "What we need to tell you issss thisss. Sssimply-you knew, Darrrkwind, that we werrre forrre-rrrunnerrrsss. Of ourrr kind, you thought. Well, morrre of ourrr people arrre coming, and not jussst 'ourrr' kind." Darkwind shook his head, not quite able to figure out what she meant.

"Not just gryphons, you mean?" Firesong said.

"Gryphonssss, humanssss, sssome hertasssi. And sssoon." Treyvan turned to look at Darkwind. "When k'sheyna began itsss trrroubleesss, we called them. You rrrecall the bookssshelvesss you helped hang? They werrre not meant forrr us. We knew that thisss place would ssshelterrr usss well, and knew you needed help and would not asssk for it-asss Ssskandranon oft sssaid, 'it isss eassier to beg parrrdon than get perrrmisssion." Sssince they did not wisssh to ssstir thingsss up by sssetting too many Gatesss, they have been coming acrosss countrrry." Darkwind had the vague feeling that he should have been outraged by this. He wasn't, but he knew plenty in the Clan who would be. Treyvan, on the other hand, did not look in the least contrite.

"But now, we need magesss, ssswift-trrraveling magesss. Immediately." He turned his attention to Firesong, who nodded, then back to Darkwind. "With yourrr perrrmisssion, I shall ussse the lessser Gate in the rrruinsss and the powerrr of the node to meet their Gate, and brrring them herrre in time to help. But for that help, we wisssh the Vale.

Intact."

"I can't promise-" Darkwind began helplessly.

Firesong interrupted him.

"Is there any reason why k'sheyna can't give them the Vale?" he asked. "Any reason at all?" The only reason Darkwind could think of was, "because we've never done it before," and that did not seem particularly adequate. Nor did he feel that this would be a true breach of Tayledras territoriality. After all, these people-beings-were Tayledras. Sort of.

"Not that I can think of," he admitted. He licked his lips thoughtfully." All we know of the Spirit Clan is out of legend-and by knowing you two," he told the gryphons. "Leaving a Vale intact-that halves what little power we still possess. And it leaves you with a stronghold.

What will we be leaving it to?"

"A Clan like any otherrr," Hydona replied carefully. "A Clan with perrrhapsss only one thing you do not have, and that isss the trrrained kessstra'cherrm crraft. But you have bondbirrrdsss that we do not. We have ourrr lazy folk, ourrr ssstupid folk, ourrr occasssional trrroublemakerrr.

I think that no one lazy, at leassst, is likely to make the jourrrney-the ssstupid would likely not surrrvive it-and the trroublemakerrr-" she bobbed her head in a gryphonic shrug. "Therrre will alwaysss be thossse.

The humanssss, at leassst, are Clansssfolk. We will take any oathssss you rrrrequirrre, and willingly, to have the Vale."

"I say that this is aid we dare not reject," Wintermoon said firmly, surprising his brother. "Whatever the cost, ridding us of Falconsbane is worth it."

"Darkwind, I think that anything you, your brother, and I together supported, the Elders would agree to," Firesong told him. "But let's take the advice of the Black Gryphon-that it is easier to beg pardon than gain permission-and go with Treyvan to bring his people through tonight." Darkwind wavered for a moment, doubtfully. He would be helping to bring an army into the ragged remains of his own people. Would he destroy them? Or would he save them?

He looked into Treyvan's soft-edged raptor eyes, and saw there the friend, the surrogate parent, the ever-present, gentle guide.

The one who had put up with having his feathers pulled by a rambunctious small boy-and his crest snatched by a wayward bondbird.

He smiled, and nodded firmly. "Let's do it."

The Vale was full of sunlight and gryphons. Elspeth had never seen anything like it, and the sight took her breath away. Everywhere she looked, there was a gryphon-bathing in a pool, lying along a massive branch or the roof of an ekele, sunbathing on the cliffs around the Vale.

Gryphons with colors and markings like peregrines or forestgyres, cooperihawks or goshawks. Gryphons in solid colors of gray, gold, rusty-red.

Gryphons with accipitor builds, and gryphons as slim as the lightest of falcons. The only markings they all had in common were patently artificial; the final arm's length or so of their first six primaries on each wing were white for four hand-spans, then red for another four handspans to the tips. Every time a gryphon moved a wing, the flash of red and white caught the eye like a flash of bright light.

And they had arrived hungry. Fortunately, Treyvan and Hydona had explained to all their fellow flyers just what the bondbirds were and that they were not to be eaten. Otherwise there might have been true havoc by now, and a number of damaged Hawkbrothers and gryphons. The poor little hertasi had worked themselves to exhaustion, finding enough to feed all of them, and probably enjoyed every moment of their work.

Hydona had promised that after this, they would hunt their own food.

She thought she had never seen anything to match this, not even when the full complement of Heralds and Companions turned out for her mother's wedding. She would much rather look at the gryphons disporting themselves than at the chaos of arguing Clansmen. She would much rather be doing something about Falconsbane or the Heartstone than either... She shifted impatiently, and tried to concentrate on the meeting below her. The Council Oak clearing was full and overflowing with every Tayledras who could walk, and all of the newcomers-plus Skif and Nyara, up at the front, but she could scarcely see them past the press of bodies.

The people who came with the gryphons had been less of a shock than the gryphons themselves; so much like both the Tayledras and the Shin'a'in that she couldn't tell any differences, except in speech and a certain uniformity of dress. They had arrived through the Gate bringing with them curious land-boats; like shallow-draft barges, but with pointed prows and places for rudders. These barges were roofed over and equipped with shutters, fitted up inside for sleeping and storage. Luggage, boxes, and bales of goods were piled upon the roofs and lashed down, and they floated above the ground at about knee-height.

Elspeth had thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head when those came through the Veil. She was secretly relieved to find that the Tayledras were equally astonished by the "floating barges;" it made her feel less like a country cousin. Forsaking his place with the Elders, Iceshadow had latched onto one of the mage-pilots of the peculiar constructions, and both of them were whispering to each other even now, ignoring the arguments. She had the feeling that they were planning to spend those waking moments not devoted to moving the proto-Gate to explanations of how the barges were enchanted and worked, and how Heartstones were created and functioned.

The full Clan immediately went into session on demand of a minority of Tayledras who were outraged over this violation of their territory.

Wintermoon turned out, surprisingly enough, to be the steadiest voice of reason, reminding the contenders, over and over, that these "Outlanders" were Tayledras-or rather, the Hawkbrothers were Kaled'a'in, and that the coming of those of their own blood could hardly be counted as invasion. Elspeth wished that she could have left him to this thankless task, but she was a member of the Clan, and she had to be there, like every other member of the Clan.