Winds Of Fate

*Chapter Seventeen DARKWIND

As he passed beneath the trees and away from open sky, Darkwind redoubled his shielding. When he had been fourteen and had been caught up in his friends' mating-spell, it had been an accident, and one that brought all of them a great deal of chagrined amusement. But if he were to "eavesdrop" now, it would be deliberate-and since he had not been invited, he was not going to intrude on this most private of moments for them.

Or at least, he had not intended to intrude-But he was given no choice, after all.

Everything seemed quiet up by the swamp, and he didn't think there was any particular reason to double back and check the area beside the ruins; the gryphons themselves had made an aerial patrol of the forest before the flight. He doubted that anything large would have gotten in under cover of the trees.

On the other hand, it wouldn't hurt to check the trails for signs of intruders. It wouldn't take all that long.

He had just called to Vree, and was halfway through this particular patch of forest. He was heading in the direction of the path to the swamp and the hertasi, when a scream of agony cut the sky. A second scream answered the first. A heartbeat later, the world came apart for an instant.

At least that was what it felt like. He knew what it was as he slammed down another kind of shield and fought his senses clear; the resonating effect of a magic-blast, powerful, crude, and close at hand. And the tortured scream that had accompanied it, that echoed across the sky, and pierced all his mental shields, had come from Treyvan Vree was already shooting up through the treetops, s~ off m the direction of the shriek of rage and pain, screaming a battle cry of his own.

Running all out, Darkwind followed on the ground as best he could.

This was wild land, hard to cross at any speed. He ran through it without any of his usual care-breaking branches, leaving behind tracks an infant could read, crashing through the undergrowth like a clumsy young deer in a panic. But still the terrain itself held him back; brushes clutched at him, roots tripped him up, thickets too thick to be forced blocked his way. Heedless of his own risk, he opened his mind to the gryphons, but heard-nothing.

And that was even worse than the cries had been.

Rage and fear blinded him to pain; rage and fear drove him through plum thickets, across a tumble of razor-sharp stone fragments, and loaned him wind and strength. His heart pounded too loudly for him to have heard danger coming up behind him; his soul was torn with claws of agony for what that silence might mean.

Ahead!" called Vree, shooting under the tree branches like a winged arrow, turning faster than the eye could follow, and shooting away again.

"Here!.

The bird was too excited and angry to manage anything more coherent than that. Darkwind plunged after him, his lungs burning, his side pierced with a lance of pure pain. Just when he thought that he could not possibly run any farther, he literally stumbled into a tangle of broken branches, then over a fur-covered leg, and fell into a mass of broken brush before he could regain his balance.

The leg belonged to Hydona, who was sprawled in an unconscious tangle, bleeding from one torn and wounded wing.

"Come on, Treyvan," Darkwind crooned, cradling the gryphon's head in his hands, and slapping his beak lightly. "Come on, old boy. Wake up. Come on, Hydona needs your help; I can't move her without You." Treyvan lay in the middle of a half-crushed bush. It had obviously saved him worse injury when he hit the ground, but Darkwind couldn't free him from the snarl of broken branches unless he could revive the male gryphon and get some help from him.

The eyelids fluttered, the beak opened a fraction, and closed again.

The head stirred in Darkwind's hands and Treyvan protested his treatment wordlessly. "Arrwk-rrrr-Daaa-Daaarrrwk-"

"That's right, it's Darkwind. Come on." Darkwind slapped the beak a little harder, pulled at Treyvan's crest-feathers. "Come on. Say something with some sense in it. Wake up, old friend."

"Rrrrrrr." The eyelids fluttered and stayed open this time; the weight of the gryphon's head left Darkwind's hands as Treyvan raised it a trifle. "Hydona-" the gryphon croaked, whining wordlessly with pain, as he tried to turn his head. "Hydona-" t She's hurt," Darkwind told him, "but I think she'll be all right.Her wing's hurt, I don't think she's broken anything, and she's kind of half-conscious, but I can't get her out. I need to get you out of this tangle, so you can help me get her out of hers."

" Can't-move-" the gryphon said, starting to thrash weakly in alarm.

It was obvious then to Darkwind that Treyvan wasn't really hearing him-that, in fact, he was only half-conscious.

He opened his shields to the gryphon, and touched him directly, mind to mind. "Don't move till I tell you. You're caught. Hydona is all right, but she's hurt and tangled up in some brush, and I'm going to need your help to move her." He glanced back over his shoulder to the right, where the female gryphon lay, eyes half-closed, one wing folded awkwardly beneath her, the other oozing blood from a wound. Vree sat right beside her head, his eyes closed in concentration. He was in complete mental contact with her, helping to keep her calm and unmoving. He'd done this before, with wounded bondbirds, and he was remarkably good at it-in fact, if there were such a thing as a Healer among the bondbirds, Vree might well qualify. He might not have been able to hold Hydona if she had been completely awake and aware enough to fight him, or if she'd been delirious and raving, but like Treyvan, she had been-at best halfconscious when the two of them arrived.

The mental contact seemed to steady Treyvan; he stopped thrashing, and held still. Satisfied that the gryphon wasn't going to lose control, panic, and disembowel his rescuer (a very real possibility with a predator as large and strong as a gryphon), Darkwind moved over to his side.

All right, old friend. I'm going to start with your left wing. Lift it just a little-that's it-" It took them much longer than Darkwind wanted to get Treyvan free; by the time they finished, Hydona had slipped a little farther away from consciousness. It took all three of them, Vree included, to rouse her and all three of them to get her on her feet.

"What happened?" Darkwind asked, glancing sideways at what appeared to be fresh human remains-shredded-as they finally got Hydona, swaying, into a standing position.

"I-don't rrrremember," Treyvan said unhappily. "We completed the flight-yesss-and-"

"Aahhh," said Hydona. She shook her head, and gave a faint cry of pain. "There wasss-a man. Below. Usss. With a weapon. A crosssbow. ' "Yesss, a man-" Treyvan nodded, as he put his shoulder to Hydona's to support her. "He sssshot Hydona-that isss all I remember-"

"Can you hold her up a moment by yourself?" Darkwind asked. "I think I see something, and I didn't get a chance to look over there." Treyvan nodded and winced as if his head hurt. That gave Darkwind another little piece of information, confirming one of his suspicions. The male gryphon had been the one receiving the blast of magic that Darkwind had felt smash into his own shields, as if it had been non-specific, and unfocused. Magic was a poor way to render someone unconscious-rather like taking a boulder to smash a fly. The amount of sheer power required to overwhelm was ridiculous-in fact, it was far easier to shape a bit of energy into a dart and shoot them with it. Better far to use a true mind-blast, if one had the Gift, or a physical weapon like the crossbow.

A magic blast to the mind had certain side effects-and a headache was only one. It was not the weapon-of-choice, even against a flighted target.

That meant that the gryphons' attacker had no mental abilities of his own. And might not have had any magical ones, either.

Darkwind made certain that Hydona was balanced well, before leaving her side and walking over to what was left of the human who had attacked them.

He bent over the remains and poked at them with the tip of his dagger where he saw a glint of metal. Sure enough, there was a tarnished amulet of some sort about the neck, and the remains were as much blackened and burned as they were clawed.

He checked back over his shoulder; Hydona seemed to be doing better by the moment, so he spent some little time investigating the state of the corpse. When he stood up and returned to the gryphons, Hydona was standing on her own, and Vree had taken a perch in the tree above them, showing not the slightest interest in Treyvan's crest-feathers.

Well, it looks like I can piece together what happened," Darkwind said, as he reached out for the leading edge of Hydona's injured wing.

"At least I think I can.

"I wisssssh I could," Treyvan fretted. "I do not like thisss, not rrrememberrring."

Treyvan... you may never get the memory back," Darkwind told him, fighting off his own guilty feelings. I should have stayed nearby. I should have guarded them. It wouldn't have taken that long, just to wait around until they were through and on the ground again. "Here's what I think happened. This fellow was watching you, and when Hydona got within range, he shot, wounding her. Treyvan, when you dove at him, he hadn't yet had time to reload the crossbow-I think he was counting on you to be very slow, since you're very large. I think your speed took him by surprise. He has an amulet around his neck, the kind that can be used to store very basic magic. When you dove at him, he blasted you with it as kind of a reflex action."

"But-we have defensssessss," Treyvan said in surprise. "Magic defensssessss."

True-but they were partially down because of your mating. I remember noticing that as you took off, then thinking it wouldn't matter." Now I wish I'd said something.

Treyvan hissed. "Trrrue. It isss neccesssary. I had forgotten that. Not fully down, but-reduced" He nodded. "Anyway, they were down enough that the blast knocked you unconscious, but up enough that you reflected part of it back to him. Since he didn't have any defenses at all, you got him with the backblast.

I don't know if you killed him, but in the end it didn't matter. If he wasn't, Hydona, you definitely killed him when he fell and was within your reach. See?" He pointed to her foreclaws. "There's blood on your talons, and he's fairly well shredded."

"But why don't I remember?" she asked unhappily.

"Because you weren't more than half-conscious at the time," he told her. "It was mostly reflex on your part."

" Ah." She accepted that, carefully putting one foot before the other, while Darkwind walked beside her, holding up the drooping wing so

that it wouldn't drag on the ground.

"I... will have an aching head for a while, then," Treyvan said ruefully. "And I did not even rescue my mate-"

"oh, you did, it was just rather indirect," Darkwind soothed him.

"I wouldn't worry about the headache; I'm going to get the hertasi to send over their Healer as soon as I leave you. She'll put you both right." He was making light of the incident-because he was afraid it might mean more than a simple trophy-hunter, trying to shoot down the gryphons.

How had he found out about them, whoever he was? How had he traced them here? Where had he gotten a protective amulet powerful enough to have knocked Treyvan out of the sky? Why did he use the crossbow instead of magic, if he'd had access to magic that formidable?

And why had he gone after them in the first place?

There were more questions. What were those faint traces Darkwind had seen, before he had gotten the two gryphons to their feet-traces of a second person who had been moving about the two of them?

He'd been forced to destroy those traces, much against his will; there was no way to get to the gryphons without doing so. Getting in to disentangle their limbs and move brush away was the only way to help Treyvan and Hydona up and get them moving. He hadn't seen the scuffs and prints anywhere else, not even entering the area-and they had been quite clear around Treyvan's body, which meant, whoever it had been, the print-maker had not been the same person as the archer. The archer had been stone cold by the time the unknown had meddled with Treyvan's unconscious body.

If I had gotten here sooner, I could have caught him- Yet another lance of guilt, none of which was going to be assuaged until Treyvan and Hydona were safely back at their nest, and both of them were healed enough to take to the skies again.

The gryphlets boiled out of their nest as the quartet approached, hysterical with fear, so completely incoherent that not even their parents could get any sense out of them. They simply crowded under the adults' wings, pressing as closely to their bodies as they could, whimpering and trying to hide.

This, of course, did not help at all, but the little ones were too terrified to be reasoned with.

Darkwind couldn't tell if something had frightened them directly, or if they had linked in with their parents and experienced what had happened to the adult gryphons indirectly.

Whatever had happened, it rendered them completely irrational, and also turned them into complete nuisances.

He wanted to comfort them-and Hydona was nearly frantic with maternal worry-but they were in the way, underfoot, and demanding the total attention and protection of their parents, neither of whom were in any shape to give it.

Finally, in desperation, he tried the only one of them who wasn't already fully occupied. "Vree!" he called, hoping the bird might be able to at least chase the little ones out of the way.

The gyre came down from his protective circle above them in a steep dive, braking to a claws-out landing on the top of one of the stones. He looked sharply at the shivering, meeping gryphlets, and opened his beak to give a peculiar, piercing call.

The little ones looked straight at him, suddenly silent. Then they resumed their cries, but ran away from their parents and straight for Vree.

Vree, for his part, hopped down to a rock that stood just shoulderheight to the youngsters; he spread his wings and the little ones huddled up to the rock, one on either side, trying to cower under his wings the tone of their cries changing from frantic to merely distressed. Vree replied to them with reassuring chirps of his own, "protecting" them with his wings.

It would have been funny, if the little ones hadn't been in such distress.

Whatever the cause of their fear, it could be dealt with later, once Treyvan and Hydona were settled into their nest, and the hertasi Healer brought to help them.

He left Treyvan leaning up against the stones with Vree and the little ones, while he helped Hydona into the nest-area to clean her wing wound.

The bolt had passed completely through the wing, leaving a ragged, round hole. It needed a Healer; there was no way for him to bandage it properly. and it continued to ooze blood, despite the primitive pressure-bandage he put on it. She clamped her beak shut and obviously tried not to complain, but moaned softly despite her best efforts as he bound the cloth in place. Darkwind found himself sweating and apologized clumsily for her pain. He returned to help Treyvan into the nest, keeping the little ones back until the still-unsteady gryphon had settled himself.

"I'm going to get the Healer," he said. "Do you want me to leave Vree with you?"

"Yesss," Treyvan sighed, as the forestgyre herded the youngsters in with all the skill of an expert nursemaid. "If it would not leave you in danger. He issss much help. And after thisss," he concluded, with a hint of his old sense of humor, "I may even give him my cressst featherssss."

One thing at a time, he told himself First the gryphons, then the little ones-and then I find out who and why-and what this attack on them really means.

One thing is certain. the quiet we've been enjoying was just a momentary lull. We're in for more and worse trouble; I can feel it.

He had felt trouble ahead, like the ache before a storm in once-broken bones. Like a storm, that trouble would strike-and with no warning where or when. He little thought that this time the fury would strike straight at his heart.

He gave Nera and the rest of the hertasi a brief explanation of what had happened, while Nyara listened unobtrusively in the background.

The Healer, Gesta, left halfway through without waiting for permissionso like the Healers of the Tayledras that Darkwind had to smile.

No one gave them orders either, and they were not much inclined to wait for permission when they thought their services were needed. Vree came winging in over the swamp just after he answered the last of the lizard people's questions-mostly concerned with their own safety, and what, if anything, they could do to safeguard it.

With Vree back, there was no reason to postpone his regular patrol-and every reason to complete it. There might be traces of those invadersthey might even still be within Tayledras territory, though Darkwind doubted it. In the past, those who had invaded to strike at the Hawkbrothers generally moved in, made whatever action they had come to take, and moved out again.

And there was still no telling if this was a danger to the Tayledras, or simply the foolishness of a trophy-hunter.

But when in doubt-assume the worst. The Hawkbrothers stayed alive by that rule, and it had always been the precept Darkwind operated on.

He went over his ground with eyes sharpened by anxiety, looking for traces of the interlopers.

He found only vague tracks, places where something had passed through, but the ground was too dry to hold marks, and it was impossible to tell what had made those traces. It could have been the marksman and his (presumed) companion; a thread caught on a thorn showed it was not simply an animal, despite the trace of lynx hair below it.

At sunset he completed the last of his circuits, being replaced by Starsong, Wintermoon's current lover. He thought she looked at him strangely when she passed him-a pitying glance as she vanished into the underbrush. He puzzled over that odd expression as he headed back toward his ekele, thinking only of changing, getting food for himself and Vree, and going back to the gryphons.

But as he hurried up the path, Vree suddenly swooped down in front of him, crying a warning. He froze, one hand on his dagger, as a manshaped shadow separated itself from the rest of the shadows beneath the trees.

Then Vree swerved away, his cry changing from warning to welcome. as a huge, cloud-white owl rose on silent wings to meet him. Darkwind's hand fell from the hilt of his dagger, as he recognized Wintermoon's bird K'Tathi.

"Brother-" he called softly. "What brings you out here? I thought you were on hunt-duty for a while." Wintermoon said nothing; only came forward. slowly, worriedly searching Darkwind's face with his eyes. "Then-you have not heard?" Darkwind shook his head, alarmed by his brother's expression, and his words. "Heard? No-nothing from the Vale, anyway. Why?

What-" Wintermoon clasped Darkwind in his arms, in a rare display of emotion and affection. "Little brother-oh, little brother, I wish it were not so... I grieve for you, sheyna. Dawnfire... is dead." He searched his brother's face... and saw only regret. Darkwind was prepared for almost anything but that. He stood within the protection of his older brother's arms, and tried to make sense of what he had just heard.

"Dawnfire? But-this was her rest day! She wasn't even going to leave her ekele, she told me so! Surely you must be mistaken."

"No," Wintermoon said, his voice soft with seldom-heard compassion." No, there is no mistake. She was found in her ekele-" Then it hit him, with all the force of a blow to the gut. ' No!" he shouted, pulling away and staring at Wintermoon wildly.

"No! It can't be! I don't believe you!" But Wintermoon's pitying expression-exactly like Starsong's-told him the truth that he did not want to hear.

He was too well-trained and disciplined to break down-and too overcome with shock to move. His knees trembled, and threatened to give way beneath him. Wintermoon took his shoulders and gently steered him over to a fallen tree at the side of the trail. He urged Darkwind to sit as Vree dove in under the tree branches and landed, making soft whistling noises in the back of his throat.

Darkwind felt blindly behind his back and got himself down on the log before his legs collapsed. "What-happened?" he asked hoarsely, his throat choked, his eyes burning. He blinked, and two silent tears scorched down his cheeks.

"No one knows," Wintermoon replied quietly. "Thundersnow came to see if she wanted to go hunting for game birds, and found her this afternoon. She was-" he hesitated. "Little brother, did she full-bond with her bird often?"

"Sometimes," Darkwind croaked, leaning on his left side. He stared out at nothing, more tears following the first. "She-could not full-bond without trance, but Kyrr was so bright, she didn't need full trance often. ~ How can she be dead? Who could have touched her in her own home?

His fists knotted, and his stomach. More tears welled up and flowed unnoticed down his face.

"Little brother, it appeared that she was in full trance; that at least is how Thundersnow found her. There were no signs of violence or sickness upon her." Wintermoon paused again. "I would say... she must have undergone full-bond with her bird, and that something befell the two of them." He paused. "She was not known for caution. It may be that she sent Kyrr into the Outlands, and met something she could not escape from." He rested his hand on Darkwind's shoulder. "I am very sorry, little brother. I-am not known for words. But if I can help you-" Darkwind seized the comfort he had thrust away earlier, and clasped Wintermoon to him, sobbing silently into his older brother's shoulder.

Wintermoon simply held him, in an embrace of comfort and protection, while Vree whistled mourning beside them.

Nyara twisted on the sleeping mat in her little cave, a ball of misery and confusion. When Darkwind came to the hertasi with his story of attack on the gryphons, she had been as confused and alarmed as any of them. But now she'd had some time to think about what he had said-and to think back to that last confrontation with her father.

Mornelithe Falconsbane had always hated gryphons, just as a general rule, although she was not aware that he had ever had contact with the species. Not directly, at least. But he had been very interested in Treyvan and Hydona, to the extent of pulling every detail she knew about them out of her. She had the horrible feeling, fast growing into certainty, that he and no other was behind this attack.

And yet a direct attack was so unlike him. Mornelithe never did anything directly; he always layered everything he did in secrecy, weaving plots and counterplots into a net not even a spider could untangle. Why would he send someone to shoot at them? And why would he send someone armed with the crudest of amulets, a protection that was bound to fail? It made no sense at all...The hertasi Healer passed the mouth of her cave. Gesta paused a moment, peering shortsightedly into the doorway. "Nyara?" she said, softly. "Are you there? Are you awake?" Nyara blinked in surprise. "Yes," she responded. "Yes... I could not get to sleep. Is there something you need from me?" Gesta coughed politely. "A favor, perhaps. The winged ones are better. but they need a full night's sleep. Yet they are fearful to sleep. fearing another hunter, this time in the dark. You, I think, can see well in the dark, no?"

"Yes, I can." Nyara responded, and in spite of her worries, a pleased little smile curled the corners of her mouth. they trust me-or Gesta does, anyway-and they're willing to give me something to do. "I think I see where you're tending. You want me to guard them, do you not? So that the winged ones may have some sleep."

"Yes," Gesta breathed. in what sounded like relief. "You need not defend them; you need only stand watch and pledge to rouse them if danger comes. You can do that, I think, without harm to yourself. And they asked after you, saying you were a friend. We would. but-" The thin little figure silhouetted against the twilight sky shrugged, and leaned against its walking stick.

"But you do not see or move well by darkness. I know," Nyara responded." I should be happy to attend them." She uncoiled from her mat and glided silently out to the hertasi, who blinked at her sudden appearance.

"Do you go across the swamp?" Gesta asked, taking an involuntary step backward and looking up at her. Nyara realized then that this was the first time the hertasi Healer had seen her on her feet. Her slight build might have deceived the little lizard into thinking she was shorter than she actually was. In reality, she was perhaps a thumb-length shorter than Darkwind, but certainly no more than that.

"No," she replied, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the thought of slogging through all that mud and water-and in the dark, no less. "No-if I go around about the edge, I shall find the ruins, no?"

"It will be longer that way," Gesta warned.

"But swifter if I need not feel my way through water in the dark," Nyara chuckled. "I go, good Healer. Thank you for giving me the task." She slipped down to the path that led to the edge of the marsh before the hertasi could reply. And once out of sight of the hertasi village, she slipped into the easy run she had been bred and altered for, a ground-devouring lope that would have surprised anyone except those who were familiar with the Plains grass-cats on which she had been modeled.

While she ran, she had a chance to think; it was odd, but running always freed her thoughts, as if putting her body to work could make her mind work as well.

She thought mostly upon the notion that her father might have been involved in this attack upon the gryphons. If he was, what was she to do about it?

Treyvan and Hydona are my friends, she thought, unhappily. they are, perhaps, the only true friends I have ever had. And Darkwind-oh, I wish that Father had not ordered me to seduce him! He makes my blood hot, my skin tingle. Never have I desired anyone as I desire him-not even Father.

Father I hate and need-Darkwind I only need-The very thought of Darkwind, of his strong, gentle hands, of his melancholy eyes, of his graceful body, made her both want to melt into his arms, and to pounce on him and wrestle him to the ground, preparatory to another kind of wrestling altogether.

But Mornelithe has ordered me to take him-and therefore-I will not. She set her chin stubbornly, tucked her head down, and picked up her pace a bit.

But what if Mornelithe were behind this; what then?

I think it may depend upon if he sends more creatures against them tonight.

Or if he has left a taint of himself that I can read. If I find nothing, I shall be silent. But if I find traces-then if I can-I must speak.

The decision seemed easy until she realized that she had actually made it. The realization took her by surprise. why have I thought that? What are they to me, besides creatures who have been friendly-kindly No one had ever been friendly or kindly to her, not since Mornelithe had eviscerated her nurses, and given her sibs and playmates, failures by his reckoning, to his underlings to use as they would.

As he would give me to his underlings, if he judged me a failure. As he would kill me, if he knew of my rebellion.

Therefore he must not learn of it...She reached the border of the ruins before she expected; she slowed to a walk, and sharpened her eyes to catch the glow of body heat. She knew in general where the gryphons' nest was, but not precisely. She also freed her ears from her hair, and extended them to catch any stray sound.

It didn't take her long to determine where the nest was; she heard the murmur of voices echoing among the stones of the ruins, and traced them back to their source. She froze just behind the shelter of a broken-down wall, hearing not only the gryphons, but Darkwind as well.

"There was a red-shouldered hawk circling around you when I left," he was saying. His voice sounded odd, thick with emotion, and hoarse.

"Dawnfire's Kyrr was a red-shouldered-you know, I made her promise me that she wouldn't come around here today-"

"Which may have been a missstake," Treyvan interrupted wearily.

Nyara peeked around the end of the wall." Sssshe wasss curiousss. Very curiousss. It isss entirely posssible ssshe did full-bond with her birrrd.

And whoeverrr it wasss that attacked usss, may have attacked and killed herrr asss well. If the birrrd diesss, the bondmate diesss, no?"

"Yes," Darkwind replied, but he sounded uncertain. "If they are in full-bond at the time. But I didn't see any dead-" he faltered,

"_birds-"

"You might not," Hydona said, emerging slowly from the entrance of the nest, the little ones trailing after her. "It might not have ssstruck the grround. Perrrhapsss it wassss caught in a tree... " She went on to say more, but Nyara didn't hear her. All of her attention had been caught by the female gryphon and the nestlings.

They bore the unmistakable stamp of her father's taint.

Hydona wore the contamination only lightly, a glaring red tracery like burst veins... and it was fading, as if Mornelithe had attempted something against her, and had failed: But the gryphlets- She moaned silently, to herself, as she had learned only too well to do.

Now she knew that it had been her father who had masterminded the attack on the gryphons. And how, and why.

The physical attack had never been intended to succeed. It had been intended to bring the gryphons down out of action, and only incidentally into his reach. He had attempted to subvert Hydona, to insert his own Will and mind into hers. He surely found her too tough for him to take, at least, given the short amount of time he had to work in. She knew he had never really meant to do more than make a cursory attempt to take them, on the off chance that he would succeed by sheer accident.

Because what he had really wanted was the opportunity to get at the little ones and work with them, undisturbed. She knew from bitter experience that it would not take him long at all, with a young thing, to subvert it to his will. The gryphlets would not be as useful, as quickly, as the adults-but they were more malleable, and far less able to defend themselves against him.

And they had one thing the adults did not; a direct tie into the power-node beneath their birthplace.

Mornelithe wanted that; he could pull power away from nodes, by diverting some of the power-flows into them, but he had no direct access to any nodes. The only nodes anywhere near this area were the one beneath k'treva, and the one beneath the gryphons' nest. Both were within k'treva territory, and out of Mornelithe's reach.

The power-node here was very deep, but very strong, and its ley-lines ran into k'treva Vale. Through the young, tainted gryphons, Mornelithe would have direct access to the node, the line, and very possibly, could drain the node beneath k'treva.

Or move it to his own stronghold.

It was entirely possible he would also have access to lines and nodes in the Plains; she had no idea if the node here was connected there, or not.

And these ruins themselves could conceal artifacts from the ancient Mage Wars. Mornelithe had been trying to collect those for as long as she had been aware of his activities; he had only been marginally successful in his quests, gathering in creatures and devices either flawed, broken, or only marginally useful. His ambition was to acquire something of great power; one of the legendary permanent Master Gates, for instance. One of those would give him access to the old Citadels of the Lord Adepts; and those, however ruined, wherever they were hidden, would undoubtedly contain things he would find useful.

But having access to this node is going to be bad enough! She shuddered at the idea of Mornelithe with that much power in his hands. This nexus was far more important, far more powerful than the Birdkin guessed. If they had known, they would have either drained it or built their Vale here. Nyara closed her eyes and saw her father's face, slit eyes gleaming down at her, gloating with power beyond her weak imagination as she trembled.

With that much power, she would never be free of him.

She straightened and walked into the circle of stones before the nest.

Her foot stirred a tiny stone as she moved, and the human and gryphons sprang up, gryphons with talons bared, Darkwind with his dagger drawn.

They relaxed when they saw her; Treyvan sitting back down with a sigh.

"Gesssta sssaid that ssshe would assk Nyarrra to some ssstand watch thisss night for usss," Treyvan told Darkwind. "Ssshe sssseesss well by night, and we trussst herrrr-"

"You shouldn't," Nyara replied, stifling a sob. "oh, you should not have trusted me." Darkwind seized her by the arm, and pulled her into the stone circle.

"Just what do you mean by that?" he snarled.

And slowly, holding back tears, she told them.