Except that Vree was Darkwind's. That alone was saving him from becoming Treyvan's lunch-in reality, if not in thought.
"Featherhead," he Mindspoke up to the dot in the blue, "You have no notion how close to the cliff you've been flying."
"Cliff?" responded Vree, puzzled. "what cliff? "where cliff?" I can't tell if he's playing coy, or he really doesn't understand me.
Darkwind sighed, and waded into the murky water. "Never mind. just stop teasing the gryphons. Leave Treyvan's feathers alone, you hear me?"
"Yes," said Vree slyly. "Yes," that he'd heard Darkwind, not that he'd obey.
Darkwind groaned. No wonder Father doesn't listen to me. I can't even get respect from a bird.
Nera met him at the edge of the swamp, popping up out of nowhere right into his path and scaring a year out of him. He yelped, one foot slipped off the path and into who-knew-how-deep, smelly water, and he teetered precariously for a moment before regaining his balance.
He glared at the hertasi, snarling silently. Nera blithely ignored the glare :the winged ones are here,: he Mindspoke :the creature you brought is also awake.: And with that, he vanished again, melting back into the reeds.
Darkwind closed his eyes for a moment and tried to think charitable thoughts. He let me leave the girl here, and he's worried because of her, the threat she represents. He was startled to see the gryphons. He's preoccupied with other things. He forgets that I'm a lot clumsier in the swamp than he is.
He grimaced. Sure he does. And I'm the Shin'a'in Goddess.
Not that it mattered; nothing was going to change Nera; the hertasi was far too fond of playing his little games of "eccentric old creature,'~ and insisting that if Darkwind really tried, he could move as well as the hertasi could in the swamp. He enjoyed watching Darkwind come out of the reeds covered in muck.
Vree, Nera, Dawnfire, the gryphons... With )friends like these, why do I need to look on the border for trouble? All I need to do is sit and wait. they'll bring trouble to me.
But he did hurry his steps a little, as much as he dared without losing his footing. Nera would not have come looking for him if the hertasi weren't at least a little worried-truly worried-about the Changechild.
And rightly; it was possible the girl was an Adept; she seemed a little young for the rank, but Darkwind had just attained Adept-class when the Heartstone fractured, and he had been younger.
And it didn't follow that she was as youthful as she looked. One of the commonest changes for a blood-path Adept to make in himself was to remove years. Most of them kept their bodies looking as if they were in their mid-twenties, but some even chose to look like children.
Those were the really nasty ones for Tayledras to cope with; given the Hawkbrothers' strong reaction to children, it was easy to play on their emotions until the enemy Adept had them in exactly the position he wanted them. K'Vala had been decimated by an Adept using that ploy several hundred years ago, back when their territory was on the eastern shore of the Great Crater Sea, the one the Outlanders called "Lake Evendim" now. Their lesson was one no Tayledras could afford to ignore.
He found himself thinking of his options if she was an Adept, and how he might be able to trick her into revealing her abilities.
She'll have to pull power from the nearest node just to Heal herself, he thought, as he felt his way along the submerged path. Treyvan should be able to sense that if she does; from what he told me, he's tied his magic into that node. If she's a Master, she'll draw from the ley-lines. that's going to be subtler, and harder to catch. Hmm. If he had someone "trap" the lines, so that any interference would be noted, she might note it as well. What he needed was a Sensitive, someone who was so attuned to the local energy-flows that he would notice any deviation from the norm.
Wait a moment; didn't Treyvan tell me that the gryphlets are Sensitive to the power-flows in their birth area? that might work-assuming he can convince them to keep their minds on it.
He tried to think of something that would have convinced him to keep a constant watch for something when he was that young, and failed to come up with anything. Children were children, and generally as featherhead-ed as Vree.
Well, I'll mention it to the adults, and see what they say.
He emerged from the reeds to the walkways rimming the rice paddies and stopped long enough to dry his feet and put his boots back on. A quick look around showed him nothing amiss, which meant there had been no real need to hurry, only Nera's impatience.
Old coot. Just likes to see me lose my balance. And he's not happy unless he's the one in charge of everything.
He knew Nera was watching him, and he deliberately took his time.
On the hill above Nera's tunnel, two pairs of huge, waving wings told him that Treyvan and Hydona were waiting, too, but with more patience than the little hertasi.
He picked his way across the paddies, taking time to be courteous to the farmers who bent so earnestly over their plants. One of them even stopped him to ask a few questions about one of his kin who lived in the Vale-and he could sense Nera's impatient glare even from the distant tunnel mouth.
He looked up, and sure enough, there was a shadow, just within the round entrance to the tunnel. He smiled sweetly at it and bent to answer the hertasi's questions, in detail and with extreme politeness. After all, he was the only Tayledras any of them saw regularly, and he did make a point to keep track of those Vale hertasi with relatives out here. They were so shy that they seldom asked him about their Vale kin, and it was only fair to give them a firm answer when they did inquire.
And if Nera says anything, that's exactly what I'll tell him.
When he reached the hill and set foot on the carefully graveled trail leading up the side, he debated on going first to Nera's tunnel, but Treyvan's Mindspoken hail decided him in favor of the gryphons instead.
It seemed that his charge was not only awake, but moving.
"Featherless son, your prize waits up here. She can walk, slowly, and there is more room for us up here. She did not ask what we were and does not seem Particularly frightened." Well, that was a little disappointing. "She must have known about you-or else she's seen gryphons before. So much for you playing monster. I'm on MY way up." When he reached the top of the sun-gilded bluff, he found his charge reclining on another of the stuffed grass mats, neatly bracketed between the two gryphons. They were also reclining in the cool, short grass, wings half-open to catch the breeze coming over the top of the hill.
His eyes went back to the Changechild as if pulled there. She seemed even more attractive awake, with sense in those slit-pupiled eyes and life in the supple muscles. He was only too aware of how fascinating she was; her very differences from humankind were somehow more alluring than if she'd been wholly human.
She nodded a greeting to him, then shifted her position a little, so that she could watch him and the gryphons at the same time. He noticed that she moved stiffly, as if more than her muscles were hurt.
"Sssso, your charrge iss awake," Treyvan said genially. "We have been having interessssting conversssation. Nyarrra, thisss iss Darrkwind. ' She fixed him with an odd, unblinking gaze. "I remember you. You saved me," she said, finally, in a low, husky voice that had many of the qualities of a purr. "From the mist. You helped me get out when I fell.