But they kept intruding on everything he did. Solutions a bit less shadowed than the ones Ma'ar had used whispered to him. Would it be wrong to take the body from someone who does not deserve to live? A murderer, perhaps? A blood-path mage such as one of Ma'ar's or Falconsbane's underlings?
There was the small matter of needing a physical bond however—Ma'ar had used the bond of blood-relationship. Could another bond serve as well? Could he inflict that bond on someone?
Aya stirred behind him and uttered a tense trill. Aya did not approve of the path his thoughts were tending—or at least, the bond bird did not approve of the little he understood. That irritated him further. Bad enough to be troubled by his own conscience, must he put up with Aya's as well?
And what does a bird know? he thought impatiently, dismissing Aya's discomfort. Was he going to have to follow the dictates of the wayward mind of a bird? He had a flash of regret for not having chosen a raptor over the flashier firebird; Vree was certainly amoral enough, and not much inclined to consider anything in the way of a conscience when plump prey or a gryphon's crest-feathers were in sight!
As if to compound his troubles, now An'desha came trudging cheerfully into view, up to his knees in snow looking far too happy to fit in with Firesong's black mood. And it was too late to go up into the ekele to avoid him; the Shin'a'in saw him standing in the window and waved to him.
Damn, damn, damn. His black mood soured further. He did not want to be good company for anyone, least of all An'desha, but he'd better make a try at it. He put on a mask of a pleasant expression, and waited for An'desha to enter the protected area between the two doors. There was a further wait for An'desha to shake off the snow encrusting his legs inside the first of the doors, then enter the ekele itself.
"You'll never believe what's here!" An'desha called, as Firesong opened the second door. "The city's in an absolute uproar—there hasn't been such a carnival procession since—well, since you arrived! Anybody with a free moment at the Palace and the Collegia is gawking like any country cousin!"
"I can't imagine what you could be talking about, or what it is that's come," Firesong replied, curiosity piqued in spite of himself. "Well, what is it? A captured monster? Solaris parading through the city with a portable Temple of Vkandis?"
"Neither." An'desha pulled off his quilted Shin'a'in jacket with a shower of droplets from the melted snow, and grinned. "A floating barge from k'Leshya. They've been Gating their way across country with help from the gryphon's, which is why we didn't know they were coming; the gryphon-mages were taking it in turn to fly ahead, scout a remote location, and come back to build a Gate to the next spot. That let them get within striking distance of Haven without raising a fuss. Once they got there, they came overland by road the rest of the way. They were just waiting to see if the breakwater would hold before they chanced a Gate."
A barge? From k'Leshya? "Who? And why?" he blurted without thinking. "And why now?"
"To answer the last question first, now is because they had to. Among other things they brought someone who calls herself a trondi'irn; apparently she's a sort of gryphon-keeper, and she's come to make sure our four stay in good health. About a quarter of the barge is full of her stuff, or rather, the stuff for the gryphon's." An'desha looked quite smugly pleased with Firesong's surprise. "There's also one of my people, a Sworn-Shaman like Querna, but a man. He's supposed to be here to advise Jarim, rather than replacing him, and I must admit Jarim seemed kind of relieved to see him."
Firesong got the feeling that Jarim wasn't the only person relieved to see this shaman. Another point of difference, of rift, between them?
But An'desha didn't notice his silence. "Then there's a expanded delegation from k'Leshya, about a dozen, counting the trondi'irn, and three more gryphons, and they've brought a lot of things Darkwind's been fussing over—" He interrupted his own description with a shrug. "I'm starving and missed breakfast and lunch at the Collegia. Well, why don't you go see for yourself?"
"I believe I shall." Surprise gave way to a consuming curiosity. "Would you mind if I offered them the hospitality of the ekele? I can't imagine any of them would feel all that comfortable in the Palace."
An'desha flushed faintly. "Actually, I wanted to talk with you about that. Would you mind if I—moved temporarily into the Palace? I seem to be spending all my time there, and I've been offered a room in the Palace if I want it. That would—ah—leave you more room for the people from k'Leshya."
For one moment, Firesong throttled down rage. Deserting me already? How dare he—after everything I did for him!
But he hid it carefully. Getting angry at An'desha would only drive him further away. Instead, he tried assuming a mask of indifference. "If that's what you really want, it's fine with me."
"I would think it will just be until we find another solution for when the breakwater goes." An'desha looked at him pleadingly, and Firesong now felt a surge of satisfaction.
So—since I agreed so easily, now he's worried? Good. Maybe I can make him jealous for a change!
He shrugged, deepening his pose of indifference. "Whatever you want. I'm going to go see if I know any of these folk, and tender my invitation."
He felt his mask slipping and turned away. Then, so that An'desha did not see any of the conflicting emotions on his face, he ran up the stairs to fetch his own cloak and boots—which fortunately were not in the bedroom. He heard An'desha following slowly and waited until the Shin'a'in was rummaging around in the bedroom, packing up, before he went back down to the garden again. Aya joined him with a trill of satisfaction, flying to take a secure perch on his shoulder as he went out the doors.
He pushed through the snow with his restless thoughts flitting from one subject to another. For one thing, he hadn't given any thought to the gryphons' health; he'd just taken it for granted that they were healthy. They always recovered quickly from injuries, and never seemed to be ill.
But the youngsters were about to fledge; this fall they'd been making short glides from the tops of fences and woodpiles. Well, not quite glides. More like controlled plummets. They still were only about half the size of their parents, so they probably had one major growth spurt coming. If they doubled their size in a year or so, from all Firesong knew of other creatures, he was certain that would put a tremendous strain on their bodies. There would be special nutritional demands to keep up with such a growth spurt. Perhaps that was why the trondi'irn was here....
Or perhaps it was because of Treyvan and Hydona themselves. There might be some traces of minerals or other things they needed that they couldn't find for themselves. They are a created race, after all. The Mage of Silence made them up, and I don't care how much of a genius he was, he couldn't possibly make every detail perfect. Humans had been around for a great deal longer than gryphons, and look how imperfect they were!