Mercedes Lackey - The Silver Gryphon

He did remember; in the tropical heat of the climate around Khimbata, Shalaman’s people all took long naps in the afternoon, and then continued their court ceremonies, entertainments, and duties until well after midnight. And he had no fear that Shalaman would refuse help; the Emperor could send off a hundred hunters or more from his forces, and they would never be missed. No, the only question was how soon the hunters could be somewhere that they could do some good. First the priests would have to approve the departure, then they would have to travel across many leagues of forest before they were anywhere near the place where the children had vanished. All that would take time, precious time. . . .

Blindly, he held out his arms and Winterhart came into them. They held each other, seeking comfort in one another’s warmth and presence. There was no point in talking; they would only echo one another, each saying what the other was thinking. They both knew that, and knew that talking would ease nothing, soothe nothing.

So they simply sat down on the smooth, cool stone bench outside their home, and held each other, and waited beneath the stars. Neither of them were strangers to waiting.

That did not make waiting any, easier—except that it removed the additional pain of loneliness.

Judeth must have gotten over her own anger by dawn, for she showed no signs of it when a messenger summoned both Amberdrake and Winterhart to what the young Silver called a “planning session.” The two of them had bathed and changed clothing, hoping that clean bodies would restore their minds a little. Amberdrake had shunned his usual finery in favor of something very like Winterhart’s practical working garb, hoping that there might possibly be something he could do once the sun rose. When the summons came, both of them had been sitting over a breakfast neither of them had been able to touch, and it was a relief to rise and follow the youngster back to the Council hall.

Skan and Zhaneel and, their other son Keenath were already there, showing just as much strain as Amberdrake felt, although only someone who knew gryphons well would have recognized the signs of strain in overpreened feathers, plumage lying flat against the body, posture that showed their muscles were as tense and knotted as Amberdrake’s. He doubted that they had slept, but the sight of Keenath made a moment of intense anger flash through Amberdrake’s heart.

He still has a child. And if his other had not been so intent on leaving the city, mine might not have gone either!

But that was irrational and entirely incorrect, and he knew it. He suppressed it immediately, and he and Winterhart maneuvered through the group crowded in here so that they could form a united block with the other set of parents.

Judeth did not look as if she had slept either. Deep shadows touched the swollen pouches under her eyes, and she looked twice her real age. Aubri didn’t even pretend to be calm; he chewed incessantly on one of his old, shed feathers, presumably to keep from shredding his current plumage.

There were thirty or forty people in the group; Amberdrake noticed that at least six of them were mages and he, Winterhart, Skan, Keenath and Zhaneel were the only non-Silvers. Ikala was among the Silvers gathered here, and Amberdrake was irrationally pleased to see him, as if the tall young man represented more than just a local expert on the rain forest.

The Council Hall was the only room large enough to hold all of them, and Judeth had completely taken it over, strewing maps and other documents all over the table. It looked as if she had been here for some time. “Snowstar and the mages have uncovered something damned peculiar,” she said, when they had all gathered around the map-covered table. She tapped a darkened, irregularly shaped blob on the map in front of her. “This area here has no signs of magic. None, and they tell me that’s practically impossible. The missing patrol was due to pass along this line—“ She drew a swift mark with a piece of charcoal which crossed the southern end of the irregular-shaped area. “—and if there’s something in there that’s negating mage-energy, you can imagine for yourself what that would mean for both their carry-basket and their teleson.”

Amberdrake was all too able to imagine what that would do to a carry-basket; and from the way Winterhart suddenly clutched his arm, her fingers digging into the muscle, so was she. In his mind, he saw the two figures he had watched fly off into the distance suddenly stricken for a moment, then plummeting to their deaths on the unforgiving ground below.

“That means we’re going to have to come in somewhere near the edge and walk in,” Judeth continued, without any hint that she had envisioned the same disaster that had played itself out behind Amberdrake’ s eyes. “Our Gate probably won’t work inside this area, and we’ll have to suppose for now that nothing else magical in nature will work either. We’ll have to operate by the old rules of working without magic, although yes, we will be taking mages, just in case magic does work after all. Though—if there’s no local mage-power available, Snowstar tells me that the mages will be just like Journeymen and Apprentices, and limited to their own personal power. That’s going to put a serious crimp in their activities, and any mages that go along had better start thinking in terms of budgeting themselves before they act.”

She leveled a sharp glance across the table, to the point where the mages of the Silvers had bunched together.

“What about the gryphons?” someone wanted to know. “Can’t they just fly overhead and scout the way they always do?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, and sighed. “If I wanted a sign that our luck has turned truly wretched, I could not have conjured up one more certain. This is the rainy season for that part of the world—and the weather-mages tell me that storms will be unceasing over this particular area for the next several days to a week. Thunderstorms have already grounded the original pair that was out looking for our missing Silvers; they are on the ground and we know where they are. It might well be a side effect of the loss of magic over the area; we just don’t know for certain. But what that means is that there won’t be any flying going on. I’m not going to ban any gryphons from the search-parties, but they’ll be strictly on foot unless the weather improves drastically.”

“I’m still going, and so are Zhaneel and Keeth,” Skan spoke up firmly. Judeth nodded, as if she had expected as much. “In that case, since I’m going to divide the searchers into three parties, each gryphon can go with one. I’ve already sent out a gryphon with a Gate-mage; but he’ll be coming straight back, and so will the two still out there while weather cooperates.” Judeth cocked an eyebrow at Skan as if she expected him to object to this, but he didn’t. Amberdrake could certainly understand why. A gryphon on the ground was severely handicapped; Skan, Zhaneel, and Keenath would be as much a hindrance as they were a help. The two who had been on patrol would be exhausted, and the one who had ferried the Gate-mage even more so.

Judeth continued. “Now, here’s the current plan. We’ll Gate in here—that’s the closest I want to get to this area with anything that depends upon magic.”

She stabbed down with her index finger. Here, the point where her finger indicated, was on the line that Blade and Tad had been expected to fly.

“The Gate-mage and a small party will stay here, at a base camp, holding the area for the rest of you. We’ll divide up; the party with Skan and Drake in it will go north, up to the top of the area, and then in. The one with Ikala leading it, including Keenath, will go straight in. The one with Winterhart and Zhaneel will go south, then in. That way we’ll cover the maximum area in the shortest possible time.” Judeth straightened, and looked straight at Skan again: “And in case you’re wondering why I haven’t put you two in on the expected line, it’s because the two gryphons out there already flew that line and didn’t see anything before weather forced them down. So either the missing patrol didn’t fly that line, or it’s going to take an expert in that kind of territory to find signs of them. That’s Ikala, not you; he’ll be leading a party of people all used to moving quickly, and after he scouts the line on the ground, he’ll be covering the areas north and south of that line. I’m putting you two on the likeliest alternate track; Tad always had a tendency in training to stay on the northern side of a given flight line. My guess is, if they’re anywhere off the line, it’s in the north.”