Mercedes Lackey - Winds Of Fate

And he will be equally determined after his last failure that he Will not leave the task in the hands of others."

"So he'll come in person," Skif stated, and he was plainly not pleased with the idea. "Where does that leave us?"

"Standing inside the Vale," Darkwind chuckled, wishing he could see Skif's face. "It will be your images and your auras in the neutral area, and no more. It is a spell that is not often cast, for it is broken as soon as one moves more than five paces in any direction. Need reminded us of it. In fact, Need intends to be the mage casting it." He made a little bow in Elspeth's direction.

Thank you for the confidence, but save your applause for if it works. And it'll be Elspeth casting it; I'll just be showing her how."

"That leaves me outside," he continued, "And I shall be the one making the attempt to free Dawnfire. If I have the time, I shall place the illusion of the proper hawk on some other bird in his mews, and blank the beast's mind. He will assume that Dawnfire's personality has at last faded. Or so I hope." He hated to subject an innocent bird to that, but with luck, it would be one of Falconsbane's own evil creations.

"If I do not have the time," he continue, "I shall simply free her and attempt to escape. I do not think he will return before I am away again." Skif whistled softly. "That's going to take some good timing," he observed. "And you're the one taking the packleader's share of the risks."

"But it could not be done without all of you," he responded. "I cannot ask you to take the kinds of risks that I will-but I cannot make this succeed without you."

"And afterward?" Elspeth asked softly. "When you have Dawnfire free, but still trapped in a hawk's body, her true self fading with every day-what then? You didn't speak of that." He remained silent because he didn't know-and he didn't want to contemplate it, having to watch her struggle against the inevitable, and lose.

A long, unhappy silence descended, which the sword finally broke.

"oh, worry about it when she's free," the blade replied irritably. "For one thing, I know a bit about transfer spells. Maybe I can get her into something with a big enough brain that she can stay herself. Or maybe I can get her into something like a sword."

"Would that not be just as bad?" Nyara asked doubtfully, voicing exactly what Darkwind was thinking. He suppressed a groan.

At least she'd stay herself, girl," the sword retorted with annoyance.

"there're worse fates than being hard to break, heart included." Darkwind decided to end the discussion right there. "Enough; we have a great deal ahead of us" And not much time," Elspeth said firmly. "And best to work on it in the morning." They returned to the lair, and gave Treyvan and Hydona the basics of what they had decided. Treyvan did not ask about the fate of his own young, but Darkwind could tell that he was gravely worried and weary; evidently Falconsbane had tried something while they were talking and had been beaten back, but at a cost. They were all too tired for anything more, and put off further discussion. Nyara bedded down in the same chamber as Skif and Elspeth, with Darkwind across the door and Treyvan blocking the entrance for added security.

But Darkwind could not fall asleep as easily as the rest. He lay staring at the silhouette of the sleeping gryphon, watching the shadow climb up the wall as the moon set. And over and over, the question repeated in his mind.

What do I do once she is free?

She would never again wear the body of the girl he had traded feathers and favors with. At worst case, he would watch her fade, slowly, into the hawk. If Falconsbane had slain the spirit of her bird with Dawnfire's body, she might well hold on longer, but the end would be the same.

And whether she stayed in the hawk, or Need managed to find a way to put her in another form, the result was the same. She would never again be "Dawnfire," she would be something else, something he could no longer touch.

What, in the gods' names, do I do when she is _free?

The alarm cry of a falcon woke him at dawn-and the answering, deeper scream of a hawk.

He started awake, all at once, and knew he was not at home. The rock floor, the lack of movement, and the darkness told him that much before he even opened his eyes. His hand was on his knife-hilt as he blinked the haze of sleep away, running rapidly through all the possibilities of where he was and what had become of his eheletreyvan' s lair- That was all he had a chance to remember as the falcon cried alarm again. He cast about for the door, still disoriented by the strange surroundings. that's Vree-but whose was the hawk?

"Out!. Vree demanded, his mental cry as shrill and penetrating as his physical scream. "Out now! Hurry! Help!" That wasn't the "Help me," version, it was "I need your help." He scrambled over Treyvan's prone body as the gryphon struggled up out of sleep. "Grrrruh?" Treyvan responded, as Darkwind slid down his haunches and into the sunlight. "what?" There were two birds up above, one flapping as clumsily as a just fledged crow, the other ~.unmistakably Vree. The gyre circled in guard-fashion above the first, protecting it as it tried to come in to land.

It was a red-shouldered hawk-It was Dawnfire!" Help me" Help me," came the faint and faltering mental cry' She doesn't know how to land- he realized, just as Treyvan shouldered him aside, leapt into the sky, rose to meet her, , and scooped her from the air with his outstretched talons. he wheeled and dropped her safely in his foreclaws, Coming to rest delicately on his hind feet only, in a thunder of wing-claps, before Darkwind realized what he was doing.

Treyvan balanced precariously as he had alighted, keeping himself from falling with his outstretched wings. The bird lay exhausted in Treyvan's claws, every last bit of energy long since spent. Darkwind took her from the gryphon, and held her in his arms like an injured, shocked fledgling. She lay panting, eyes closed, as he folded her wings over her back, and stroked her head.

Another hand joined his; a hard, but feminine hand. It was Elspeth, wearing only a thin undershift and hose, but carrying her blade unsheathed in her other hand. Her eyes were closed; a slight frown was her only expression-but the MOMENT her fingers touched Dawnfire's back, the bird began to revive.

Her head lifted, and she craned it around to stare up at him. "Darkwind?" she Mindspoke, softly. "Is this real, or some illusion he created to torment me? Am I truly free? And home?" you're free, kechara," he replied, anger and grief combined to choke off his words. it was one thing to know intellectually that she might have been trapped in her bird's body; it was another to see it, Sense it. , "I saw Vree, or he saw me I forget," she said, closing her eyes again, and bending her head, as if she did not want to see him through the hawk's eyes. "He brought me here. but I was so tired-" '(The sword will work better through direct contact," Elspeth said quietly. I If you can put her down on my bed, and I can lay Need next to her-" NO sooner spoken than done., and with the blade touching her, Dawnfire gained strength quickly, asking for water and food. The latter, Darkwind fed her as he would an eyas: little morsels cut from a fresh rabbit that Vree brought back within moments of her asking for something to eat. She took each tidbit daintily, and it was plain from her condition that she had not been feeding well in Mornelithe's hands.

Outwardly he was calm- Inwardly he was in turmoil. How to tell her that her body was dead-that she was still as trapped now as she was in Falconsbane's hands? There was no hint of Kyrr in her thoughts-so the blade's guess, that Mornelithe had killed the bird's spirit with her body was probably right. That gave them a little more time than if she'd had to share Kyrr's mind-but it would only postpone the end a little