"I was not in favor. He did not grant me information."
"I understand that," he said quickly. "Go on."
"When the Adept came to deal with the disturbance, Mornelithe sprung the trap and closed him off from the Vale. He was hurt-and that was when Mornelithe cast illusions to make him appear to be of the Birdkin, so that the Adept would accept him as rescuer. The bird, Father slew. It was not deceived, and attacked him. But by then the Adept's hurts were such that he was unconscious, and did not know. Father took him to the stronghold and imprisoned him to break him to Father's will.
"And you know who this Adept is?" Darkwind felt himself trembling on the brink of a chasm. If it was his father-it would explain so much.
And yet he dreaded the truth-She looked directly up at Darkwind, and said, clearly and forcefully," I did not know until Father called me on the night of moondark who that man was. It was your father, Darkwind. It was he that is called Starblade." She licked her lips, and raised one hand in a pleading gesture. "He wanted you, as well, the son as well as the father-he wanted me to-entice you. I told him 'yes," but I told myself 'no," and I kept myself from working his will, as he worked it upon your father." There it was, the blow had fallen. He surprised himself with his steady, cold calm. "So Falconsbane succeeded?" She nodded, dropping her eyes, her voice full of quiet misery. "When he sets out to break one to his will, he does not fail. I was-present-for much of it. It was part of my t-t-training. That this could be happening to me. Both the pleasuring, and the punishment. I can tell you some of what he did, what he ordered Starblade to do when he returned to the Vale. You do not want to know... what was done to control him." Darkwind tried to speak and could not. Treyvan spoke for him, in a booming, angry rumble. "Continue! All that you know."
"He was, firstly, to forget what had happened to him. Mornelithe gave him false memories to replace what had truly occurred-until Mornelithe chose otherwise. Then he was to creep in secret to the heart of the Vale." She gave Darkwind a look of entreaty. "I have not the words-"
"The Heartstone," Darkwind supplied, at her prompting, feeling sick.
"The Heartstone," she said. "Yes. He was to go to it in secret, and change it-he was one who created it, so he would know best its secrets.
Father did not know that his trap would ensnare someone of that quality, but he was so pleased that he had, he forgot, often, to mete out punishment to me."
"Return to the subject, Changechild," Treyvan growled. She wilted, losing some of the confidence she had regained.
"What was it Starblade was supposed to do to the Heartstone?" Darkwind prompted her, with a bit more gentleness. She turned gratefully to him.
"He was to make a flaw in it, a weakness, one that would not appear until the Birdkin prepared to move. then he called back all his creatures, to make it appear that all was made safe here. He even sent his creatures to guard beyond your borders, so that you would be prepared to shift your power elsewhere." Darkwind held up his hand. "How much does he know-how can he continue to control Starblade, and does he know our strength?" She shrugged. "I do not know what he knows, but he has long patience and is willing to move slowly, so that each move he makes is sure.
But as to how he controls Starblade, it is with a crow."
"His bondbird." Somehow that was simply the crowning obscenity.
To take the closest tie possible to a Tayledras other than a lifebond, and pervert it into an instrument of manipulation" He cannot speak, move, or let his thoughts be known. All that is under Father's control, from compulsions planted when he was broken, and held in place by the crow." She hesitated a moment. "There is little, I think, that he can learn unless Starblade goes to him, and that, he has not done. The barriers still in place about the Vale prevent that.
But there is much that he can do with the compulsions already in place."
"Not for long," Darkwind said, with grim certainty, heading for the door of the lair. "Hydona, forgive me-I can't do anything about the younglings yet. But I can do something about this.
"Go," she replied. "Frrree thisss placsse of the viperrr, then perrrhapsss we can frrree the little onesss asss well."
"I will guard the Changechild," Treyvan said, before Darkwind eve
thought of it.
And before Darkwind could think to ask "how?" the gryphon turned to face Nyara, his eyes flashing. She looked surprised-And then she slumped over, unconscious.
Darkwind returned to Nyara's side. She was asleep, deeply asleep, but otherwise unharmed.
Treyvan sighed. "I have not hurrrt herrr, Darrrkwind. But it isss better to have the enemy underrr yourrr eye."
"She isn't exactly the enemy," Darkwind said, uncertainly.
"She isss not exactly a frrriend," Treyvan replied. "Ssshe isss at bessst, a weaknesss. I will watch herrr, for my magic isss ssstronger than hersss. Go." Darkwind did not have to be told twice. He was out the door of the lair and running for the Vale before the last sibilant "s" had left Treyvans beak. Dawn's first light flushed the eastern horizon, and Vree shot into the sky from his perch on a stone beside the lair crying greeting to his bondmate, projecting an inquiry. While running, Darkwind tried, as best he could, to give Vree an idea of what he had learned, in simple terms the bird could understand.
He conveyed enough of it that Vree screamed defiance as he swooped among the forest branches, preceding Darkwind and making sure the way ahead was clear of hazard. The bird was angered, but he had not lost his head or his sense of responsibility.
"where?" Vree demanded, his thoughts hot with rage.
"The Vale," Darkwind replied, as he leapt a bush, and took to the game trail that led most directly to the k'sheyna stronghold.
"I go," the bird said. "I go in, with you." Once again, Darkwind was surprised, but this time pleasantly. "I go," Vree repeated firmly.
That took one worry off his mind. It would be a great deal easier to handle that thrice-damned crow with Vree around.
Now he concentrated on running; as hard and as fast as he could, keeping his attention fixed on the ground ahead and leaving his safety in Vree's capable talons.
Where would Starblade be at this moment? He was an early riser, as a rule. By the time the sun was but a sliver above the horizon, he was generally in conference with one or more of the Adepts. There was a kind of informal ceremony there, as the memorial fire at the foot of the Heartstone was fed with fragrant hardwoods and resinous cedar. Those Adepts remaining-even the most reclusive-generally attended at least one of of these meetings; they remembered those who had been lost, and monitored the Heartstone very carefully, looking for changes in it morning and night.
With Father carefully making sure they accomplish nothing, he thought with nausea. Now I know why he never misses a meeting.
Now he was on safer ground; he passed his own ekele, and that of his brother; passed night-scouts coming in and day-scouts going out, both of whom stared at him in equal surprise. He ignored the ache of his lungs and his legs; dredged up extra reserves of energy and ran on, long hair streaming out behind him. He caught sight of other bondbirds flying beside him, peering down at him curiously, and guessed that their bondmates were somewhere behind. He ignored them; he would take no chances that a carelessly shielded thought would warn Starblade-or more importantly, the thing that controlled him in the guise of a blackbird.