Mercedes Lackey - Winds Of Change

So Darkwind and Elspeth were on their own in supplying a needed distraction. Without distractions, Falconsbane might well notice the gryphons, Nyara, or both. If he noticed them-She shuddered. Better not to think about it.

With Need's help, she had fashioned a blade that would counterfeit Need at a distance. It had no real power whatsoever-like the sword meant to select the rulers of Rethwellan, all it did was burn mage-energy in a spectacular fashion, radiating power to anyone with Mage-Sight.

Gwena would supply the energy for that blade. Elspeth would go imperfectly shielded, at least on the surface, looking as ill-trained as possible.

Darkwind would simply be himself. That alone should bring Falconsbane down on them.

They would ride north and west, skirting the edge of what was probably Falconsbane's territory, as if they were heading in search of something.

Any time they met with one of the enemy's traps, they would destroy it. Any time they found one of his power~sinks, they would drain it. Meanwhile Firesong and the Kaled'a'in mages would be moving the proto-Gate, but with none of the speed they were capable of.

Darkwind hoped that Falconsbane would assume the obvious-that tthheeryefworeerchetrwyionugldtootdil stract him from diverting the proto-Gate-an ov iur something else they were distracting him from.

"I really ought to be used to playing target by now," she said, as sh tightened Gwena's girth and prepared to ride out into the snow and cold with Darkwind. They looked like a pair of fancy-dress Heralds, the two of them; he wore winter scout gear, which was just as white as any Herald's uniform, and she had finally pried her Whites out of the grip of the disapproving hertasi. Gwena was champing at her nonexistent bit, ready to go-and Darkwind was going to be riding Firesong's very dear friend, the dyheli-mage, Brytha.

What was even more amazing than a dyheli mage, was the fact that Brytha had instantly volunteered for this, before Darkwind could ask any of the other stags to carry him.

"I am not much of mage," Brytha had said, in the stilted thought-forms of his kind. "I channel power, like Companion. I channel to you; you are less tired, then." No one could deny the truth of that; any power that could be given to Darkwind without effort on his part increased his stamina tremendously.

But now Elspeth knew why Brytha was white-and why Firesong could accomplish some of the incredible things he'd already done. With that extra reserve of power available, one Healing Adept could act like two, or even three.

That was the edge they had needed to turn this from suicidal to merely horribly dangerous, in Elspeth's opinion. Or at least, to less suicidal "I suppose you should be used to being a target, in those 'here I am, please, shoot me," uniforms you wear," he replied with a grin, carefully tightening Brytha's girth.

"Not you, too," she complained. "Kero calls them the 'oh, shoot me now ' uniforms. There are perfectly good reasons why we wear white!"

"I like you better in colors," he said simply and reached out to touch her hand, briefly but gently. "They suit your quiet beauty. White only makes you look remote. An ice-princess. Your spirit is brighter even than my best scarlet." She flushed and hung her head to cover it. "Thank you," she replied carefully. Slowly, she was learning to accept his compliments without any of the doubt she'd have had if they had come from anyone else. And for a moment, she was back in his ekele in memory, surrounded by color and soft silk, warmth and admiration.

Then she shook off the memory. For now, all that was important was the task ahead of them. And for that task, she could not have asked for a better partner than the one she had now. Should they come out of this well enough, they would celebrate in the ekele again, in a similar way.

She mounted up; he followed a moment later, and looked into her eyes. She nodded, and he took the lead, riding out through the Veil and into the quiet cold and the snow.

The gauntlet was cast. There was no going back now.

Treyvan launched himself into the wind, his wings spreading wide to catch the updraft, spiraling higher above the Vale with every wingbeat.

Behind and below him, Hydona echoed his launch, and once she reached height, the others followed. It was good to see other gryphons taking to the air again; better still to know that they were here to stay. Counting himself and Hydona, there were thirty-two gryphons in the Vale now, a full wing. The little ones would have many teachers, and doubtless there would be playmates for them before too long. The gryphons who had volunteered for this settlement were all paired, and the balmy temperatures of the Vale had sent several of the pairs into pre-courting. It should be very interesting to see the effect on the Tayledras if they had not moved by the time the true courting began... But that was for later; now there was a job to be done.

They all knew what they were to do. Seven were to go to the south, seven to the north. The web of power gleamed to their inner sight, seen from far above the world; a construction of entirely artificial lines of energy and their anchors, overlaying the natural ley-lines and often conflicting with them. Not exactly a web in shape, only the power-poles were connecting-points. That was what held the whole construction stableit was all that held the whole construction stable.

That would be to their benefit and Falconsbane's detriment. Anything that ran counter to the earth's own ways was subject to extreme stress.

Maintaining this web would be much like flying against a headwind.

The moment the pressure was released, the entire construction would implode.

The swiftest of the gryphons, two of nearly pure gryfalcon lineage, would take the farthest points on the web-those two were not Treyvan and Hydona, but a much younger pair, Reaycha and Taisheena. Treyvan and Hydona, as senior mages, would take the nearest points, but they would take more of them, making up in work what they were not PU g was deapportioning the worke; * sianlelehtahdeatgirmeecdofthsaktatnhdisrawnaosn,thneotfairnest way of cretting into flight tim ed within a gryphon wing without a majority consenting to it.

The two older gryphons held the middle heights, providing a marker point for the others to use to orient themselves. It was a moonless night, and on such nights, despite mage-enhanced night-sight, distances were often deceptive.

The first pair gained height above Treyvan and his mate, and shot off. barely visible against the swiftly-darkening sky, heading southwest and northwest. Then the second pair gained altitude and took to the skytrailthen the third-Finally, only he and Hydona were left, gliding in lazy circles on the Vale-generated thermal. The sky was entirely dark now, with wisps of cloud occluding the stars, and a crisp breeze coming up from below. A good night for a flight.

"Well, my fine-crested lover," she said, her mind-voice a warm purring in the back of his mind, "are you prepared to enchant me with some fancy flying?"

"Ever so, my love," he replied, and drove his wings in powerful beats that sent him surging upward and outward, as she did the same. He glanced at her, and felt the familiar warmth of love and lust heating him as she showed her strength and beauty, angling against the wind "We shall meet at dawn."

Nyara also left at sunset, riding dyheli-back. She had not expected that boon, but the dyheli themselves had insisted on it. Her partner for this first part of the journey, until the moment that she must go on afoot, was a young female, Lareen. Fresh and strong, she promised laughingly that she could keep her rider well out of any trouble by strength and speed alone. That suited Nyara perfectly; she had no wish for any kind of a confrontation-it would be far better to reach the borders of Falconsbane's territory without anyone ever getting so much as a glimpse of her.