He wished he had been able to see through the simulacrum's eyes, but the protections about the Vale had made that impossible. He Still ut the prote' n e a d ad no real idea what had happened when he'd lost his contact with the
Uul laaccrum. Starblade had been near the Heartstone; he knew that i Incee it had been near dawn, Falconsbane assumed that he must ducting his usual nonproductive assessment of the state of hen, out of nowhere, a flash of panic from the crow '- of power as the bird was destroyed. Why, or
4.
the uncontrolled power, killing one Daelon, who had the misfortune do you him up k c# 69 aelon had been useless as a mage,
"You and r t cretary. But any loss at all angered lb "He wamf Q el~y, flinging spells intended to resnare 7ust mak 0 ct otect him. It might have been an accident; it might have been the foolish simulacrum venturing into someone's protected area, or even bumbling into something-doing something as stupid as frightening a pet firebird. Any of those things could have killed it.
But as his spells battered against a new and powerful set of shields, it became obvious that it had not been accident that killed the simulacrum.
It had been deliberate; his plots had been discovered.
And later tries against Starblade had proven just as fruitless. The Birdman had been well protected within shields that predated Falconsbane's interference with the Heartstone; strong, unflawed shields that he could find no way past.
Now he passed within easy striking distance of the Vale-" striking" distance, only if he'd had that alliance with Ancar of Hardorn that he had feigned, if he'd had a dedicated corps of mages, Masters and Adepts-and as he saw the shimmer of power above the Vale he could only curse at his own impotence. Somehow, some way, someone within k'sheyna had learned what he had done to Starblade, had surmised how he controlled the handsome fool. Perhaps it had been one of the Adept's former lovers; in retrospect it had been a mistake to force Starblade to retreat into hermit-like isolation. But he had been afraid that the new persona he had laid over the old would not withstand the scrutiny of close examination.
I should have let him keep his lovers; should have had him employ some Of the pleasuring techniques he learned at my hands. that would have kept them quiet enough. Nothing stops questionings like unbridled lust and the exhaustion afterward.
It was too late now; he'd not only lost Starblade, he'd lost the Vale.
The Birdmen were alert now; there would be no subterfuge clever enough to bypass their protections, and though weakened, they were too formidable for him to take alone.
With luck, the two Outlanders and Starblade's son were on their way to the trap he'd laid for them. Camped within the valley even now were a host of human servants, garbed in the livery of Ancar of Hardorn, led by one who was like enough to that monarch to be his twin. And no illusion had been involved; the conscript was already similar in height, build, and coloring-the same spells that sculpted changes into Falconsbane's flesh had been used at a subtler level to reform this human's face.
There would be lingering traces of magic; but that was what the Outlanders would expect. Ancar was a mage, after all.
Once the Outlanders were in place, watching, the rest of his army would take them from behind.
If I cannot have Starblade, I will have Starblade's son. If I cannot take my vengeance upon the Vale, I can take it upon his sweet, young flesh.
There would be that other young man-malleable, possibly of some use as well. Certainly an entertaining bit of amusement. Likely to be a bargaining chip in some way.
And then there was the girl. Her potential as a mage was high. She was curiously naive in some areas; and that left her a wide range of vulnerable points for Falconsbane to exploit. It had been a very long time since he'd broken a female Adept to his will. He was going to take his time with this one; there would be no mistakes that way-and it would, not incidentally, prolong the pleasure as well.
He slid from shadow to shadow beneath the trees, as surefooted and quiet as the lynx he had modeled himself for. As keen of ear, swift of eye, and cunning-Not even the Birdmen, the scouts and their so-clever birds had ever caught him- He had been wandering freely amid their woodlands since k'sheyna first settled here. And they never once guessed at his silent presence.
My fighters will take Starblade and the Outlanders, and kill or catch the gryphons. I hope they can catch them. I want the satisfaction of killing them myself.
The deep hatred that always rose in him at the thought of gryphons choked his throat and made him grind his teeth in frustration. No matter remote the memories of his other lives were, that one was clear, ear.
"-they had foiled his bid for supremacy in the Mage-Wars, ower, ruined his plans, destroyed his kingdomqsts, they were no more than jumped-up k-,of themselves as sentients, equal to dependence? How dared they ow dared they breed at all? d reduce them to the position he would achieve the sweetest
"'~d irything that the wretched beast and worked for. Only then would I ndranon, the Black Gryphon, with snarling, as he slipped through the
CC doyot. qj him ul) ~ % "You a.
"He wants lust make underbrush without leaving so much as a footprint behind. But most importantly, I will have the children. And through them I will not only control the node, but have the downfall of the entire race in my hands. through them I can spread a plague and a poison that will destroy the minds of any gryphon they meet, and turn them into mere carnivorous cattle. My cattle. To use as I wish. And it is time and more than time that I have that pleasure.
He entered the area of the ruins, skirting the edge just within the cover of the forest. The lair lay beneath the shadows of the trees in the morning, though it enjoyed full sunlight in the afternoon. This was the nearest he had been, save for that one quick foray to place his hand and seal on the youngsters, binding them to himself. they can't have left the young ones alone, without some form of protection. there may be shields, or some of the beast-guardians. He paused for a moment, one deeper shadow within the shadows, his spotted pelt blending with the dappled sunlight on the dead leaves beneath the trees, with the mottled bark of the trunk beside him. He wore scouting leathers very similar to what the Birdmen wore; that was one subterfuge that had stood him in good stead in the past. If he was seen, he had only to create a fleeting illusion of Birdman features, and other scouts would assume he was one of their number.
A quick glance upward showed him nothing was aloft-nothing but what he expected. Two tiny specks, hardly large enough to be seen, circling overhead. Waiting. That would do.
He set out a questing finger of Mage-Sight, looking for what might have been left behind with the gryphon young.
A shimmering aura flickered about the lair in a delicate rainbow of protection. But beneath the shimmer-a brighter glow of power. the shields I knew of-yes-and something more-He paused; Looked, and Looked again, hardly able to believe his luck.
They had left the artifact behind to guard the young ones! Its protections were unmistakable, and just the touch of them awoke avarice in his heart. the age-the power-woman's power, but there is little I cannot overcome and turn to my own use-I must have this thing. I must! And they have left it for my taking!