Winds Of Fate v(mw-1

by Mercedes Lackey

  They scrambled up the final switchback, with Elspeth praying that there wasn't anything lying in ambush, and found themselves on a smooth apron of masonry, uneven and weathered, with weeds growing through the cracks.

  But there was no time to marvel. A new threat climbed the trail behind them-a threat that was surefooted enough to have closed the gap between them. Elspeth had not had any chance to shoot at these new followers, but they were much bigger than the first creatures that had pursued them across the Plain as well as being armored with horny plates, and she was not terribly confident that their arrows would make much of an impression on these beasts. And they were barely two switchbacks behind the Heralds.

  She and Gwena pushed past Skif and scrambled for the shelter of that ruined tower-like edifice she had Seen. He followed right on Gwena's crupper; the Companions' hooves rang on the stone in perfect rhythm, sounding like one single horse.

  They reached the shelter of the stones just barely ahead of their pursuers; the first of the creatures came over the edge of the cliff as they whisked into a narrow cleft between two standing walls, a cleft just wide enough for the two of them, or one of them and a Companion, but deep enough for several to work unhindered behind whoever held the front.

  Skif and Cymry reached the cleft last, which put them in the position of initial defenders. As Elspeth threw herself from the saddle, she reached for bow-case and quiver. As she fumbled with the straps that held both in place on the saddle-skirt, the sword at her side uncoiled its power, and struck.

  At her.

  Her hand closed on the hilt of the blade before she was quite aware of what was happening. But as Need moved to take over the rest of her body, she fought back.

  It was a brief, sharp struggle; it ended in the blade's surprised capitulation.

  What in hell is wrong with you, girl?" Need shrilled in her mental "ear."

  "I thought you were going to let me work magic against those things!"

  "through me, not using me," she snarled back. "that's my body you're trying to take over. You didn't ask, you just tried to take." Need seemed very much taken aback. While the blade pondered, Elspeth retrieved her bow and quiver, and counted out her shots. There were depressingly few arrows left; what she had, she would have to use carefully.

  "You've got a mothering-strong Mage-Gift," the blade said, as Elspeth positioned herself behind Skif, with one arrow nocked to her bowstring.

  "I think if I guide you through it, we ought to be able to fend these things off long enough to give us a breathing space. Relax a little, will you?" Elspeth let down her guard, reluctantly. "that's all I need," Need said. this will be like learning how to shoot. My hands on yours, guiding. that's all. Now look, with your Farsight, below us." Elspeth obeyed, wondering if this was a waste of time. But to her amazement, there was something down there. A kind of web of light, with a bright glow where the lines all met.

  "those are ley-lines; the thing in the middle is a node. Reach out and touch it. I'll help you." There was an odd sensation that was similar to that of having hands on hers; she followed the guidance of those invisible "hands," reaching out to touch-just barely touch-that bright glow.

  Although her physical hands merely pointed off into the heart of the ruins, those other "hands" penetrated deeply beneath the ground-deeper, she sensed, than the Plains below them. It was not effortless.

  She was sweating and trembling by the time she made contact; weakkneed with the effort, as if she had run up a second cliff trail as long as the one they had just traversed.

  Then she touched this "node"-and was hit with a blast of power, as if she stood in the path of an onrushing torrent. If she could have cried out, she would have. She had never felt so entirely helpless in her life.

  "Dammit-: Those invisible hands caught her; steadied her. She saw how they were holding her against the power, and altered her "stance," opening to it instead of resisting it. Opening what, she didn't know; in point of fact it "felt" like opening a door that she hadn't been aware existed.

  Now instead of being swept away by the flood of power, she had become a conduit for it. It filled her, rather than overwhelming her.

  "Good," the sword said, with grudging admiration. "I wasn't that quick it teetered on its hind legs. It bellowed again, then collapsed, and did not move. while its fellows began to look about confusedly, Skif darted out of cover before Elspeth could stop him. As a third arrow skimmed past him, just beyond his shoulder, and bounced off-the hide of the nearest beast, distracting it, he flung one of his throwing knives at the beast's eye. It hit squarely; the tiny knives were razor-sharp and heavy for their tiny size. The second beast threw up its head and collapsed like its brother.

  Skif darted back into cover.

  Before he had done more than reach the shelter of the cleft, a huge shadow passed overhead.

  They both looked up, as a second shadow followed the first, and a cry, like that of an eagle, but a hundred times louder, rang out.

  Dear gods-Elspeth gasped, and for one moment she could not even think.

  "what-the hell-are those?" the sword asked.

  Elspeth shook with nerves and fear, as the huge gryphons stooped on their pursuers. She had known, intellectually, that gryphons existed; Heralds had seen them in the sky north of Valdemar, but no one she knew had ever seen one this close.

  Or at least, if they had, they'd not lived to report the fact.

  For one panicked moment, she thought they had come to join the other beasts against them-and these creatures would not have the limitations of the hooved ones in prying the Heralds out of their shelter.

  But they attacked the strange creatures with talons and beaks, knocking one of them entirely off the cliff, and killing another before Elspeth could react, shrieking defiance as they shredded flesh and flew off again.

  Well, whatever they are, even if they aren't on our side, they aren't on their side either.

  The rest of the beasts turned to defend themselves, forming a heads-out circle, and it was clear that there would be no more easy kills.

  It was also clear that the gryphons were not going to give up. Nor, from the carefully placed arrows, was their still-unseen ally.

  And damn if I'm going to let them do this alone. Maybe they've heard the old saying about how "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." She ran out, nocking another arrow to her bow, before Skif could grab her and haul her back to safety.

  "Come on!" she shouted back at him, allowing a hint of mockery to enter her voice. "What are you waiting for? Winter?"

  Elspeth rested her back against a rock, and slid down it. Skif slumped nearby, with his head hanging, his forearms propped on his bent knees,

  and his hands dangling limply. There was a long shallow gash in her leg that she didn't remember getting, and another wound (a bite) on her arm that she only recalled vaguely. It was a good thing she had more clothing with her; all Whites, though, the merc outfits were filthy. She'd taken both hits after she'd run out of arrows and knives, and the damned sword had insisted on getting in close to fight hand-to-tooth, horn, whatever.

  Neither wound was bleeding, and neither one hurt..."I told you. that's my doing." That was Need, still unsheathed and in her hand. It was covered in dark, sticky blood, and she had not yet regained the energy to clean it. She had the feeling that the sword wouldn't care-but if she ever put any blade in its sheath without cleaning it, she knew in her soul that Kero and Alberich would walk on air to beat her black and blue. The smug satisfaction in the sword's tone would have been annoying if she hadn't been so tired. "I let 'em bleed enough to clean 'em out, then I took care of 'em."

  "Well, you were the one that was responsible for my getting hurt in the first place," she retorted, watching the gash and bite-marks Heal before her eyes. "I should think you'd take care of them-the sword muttered something about ingratitude; Elspeth ignored it.

  The gryphons-and presumably the archer-had gone in pursuit of the enemy creatures once their combined attack h
ad broken the beasts' circle and forced them into flight. Neither the Heralds nor their Companions had been in any shape to join the chase.

  Gwena plodded over to Elspeth's side and nosed her arm..At least that piece of tin is useful as a Healer," the Companion observed. Are we going to find somewhere safe to rest, do you think? Someplace secure? I'd really like to go sleep for a week or so."

  "Unless those gryphons saved us just to eat us themselves, I think we are," Elspeth responded, unable to muster much concern over the prospect of becoming gryphon-fodder. She had just learned the truth of something Quenten had warned her about. It took energy to use energy-and hers was spent, and overspent. Right now she was just about ready to pass out, safe or not.

  But the sound of a falcon's cry made her look up; there was an enormous raptor skimming along, barely clearing the tops of the stones, winging his way out of the forest. An omen? That would be all they needed now; something more to wonder about.

  For a moment, she thought it was her weary, blurring eyes that made the vegetation behind him seem to move, as if part of the forest had separated and was walking toward her. But then, the "vegetation" stepped a little farther out into the open and became a man.

  Her hiss of warning brought Skif's head up, and they both struggled to their feet to meet the stranger standing, their Companions moving a little into the shadows out of immediate sight as they rose. She stood so that Need was not so obviously still in her hand; no point in looking belligerent.

  He was a somber-looking young man, tall, taller than Skif, and slender. And handsome, strikingly handsome, with a sculptured face and tough, graceful body. He'd already slung his bow across his back; a longbow, much more finely-crafted than anything Elspeth had ever seen in use before. His green, gray, and brown clothing blended so well with the forest that he faded into the background every time he paused. His long hair was an odd, mottled brown that helped with the camouflage-effect considerably. As he neared, Elspeth saw that he had the same piercing, ice-blue eyes and bone structure of the Shin'a'in she had seen, though his complexion was a paler gold than theirs.

  As the man drew nearer, the falcon wheeled and returned. Without looking, the stranger held out his gauntleted wrist, and the falcon-muc' larger, she realized, than any bird she had ever seen, other than, say, an eagle-dropped down gracefully to his fist, and settled itself with a flip of its wings.

  That was when she finally made the connection. Dear gods-he must be one of the Hawkbrothers. She felt as if she really had stepped into the pages of a legend; first she was visited by a Shin'a'in Kal'enedral, then chased by monsters, then rescued by gryphons-and now here was a Hawkbrother, a creature out of legends so remote that she had only found references to them in Vanyel's chronicles. Moondance and Starwind, Vanyel's friends-Mages, Adepts in fact, from the Clan of k'treva.

  The man paused at a polite distance from the Heralds, and frowned, as if he wasn't certain how to address them, or which of them to speak to first. She wondered if she should solve his quandary.

  But before she could speak, he made up his mind. "Who are you?"

  he demanded arrogantly in trade-tongue. "What are you doing in Tayledras lands? Why are you here?" And who are you to ask? I didn't see any boundary markers! She drew herself up, answering his arrogance with pride of her own. "Herald Elspeth and Herald Skif, out of Valdemar. And we were chased here by monsters, as you likely noticed," she replied stiffly, in the same language." We didn't exactly plan on it, and we didn't stop to ask directions.

  Any more questions?" To her surprise, he actually started to smile, at least a little. But that was when Gwena poked her nose from behind her Chosen, and looked at him with a combination of inquiry and tentative approval. His eyes widened and, to Elspeth's amazement, he paled.

  She took an involuntary step backward, and that brought Need into view. He glanced down, took a second, very surprised look, and went a little whiter.

  He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like Shin'a'in, but was different enough that she couldn't make out what he was saying.

  It seemed to have something to do with bodily functions.

  Well, as long as he'd seen the damned sword and hadn't interpreted it as hostility, she might as well put it away properly. She turned a little, fished a cleaning rag out of Gwena's saddlebag as he watched her warily, and began wiping the blade clean.

  It practically cleaned itself. Then again, maybe that wasn't surprising, all things considered. The Hawkbrother mumbled something again, and she looked up as she sheathed her sword properly, and wiped off her filthy hand. "What did you say?" she asked politely, but with a touch of the same arrogance he had been showing them.

  He shook his head, but he did seem to be unbending just a little.

  "Never mind," he said, "It matters not. It would seem that I am to add you to the colony of Outlanders I am collecting."

  "And what if we don't want to go?" she retorted, taken aback by his assumption that she would obey him without a second thought. "There are four of us and only one of you."

  "This is our land you trespass on. There are four of us," he corrected mildly, as the gryphons swooped in from behind her to land at his side, the wind created by their wings as they landed making a tiny tempest that blew dust into her face and made her squint. "And ~ two of us are bigger than all of you." She tightened her jaw, refusing to be intimidated. "Is that a threat?" she snapped. "I think we might surprise you, if it is." He sighed. "No, it is not a threat; if you wish to descend to the Plains, you are free to do so. But I must tell you, there are four of us that stand guard here, I will not permit you to pass through Tayledras lands, and your escort still awaits you below the cliff. Our Shin'a'in brethren have not chosen to disperse them, and we above do not trespass upon the Plains without invitation."

  "Oh," she said, deflated. "what do you know about these people?" she asked the sword.

  "Not a damn thing," Need replied. "Never heard of them, and I don't recognize the language. they're either something I never ran into, or they sprang up after my time." The young man cleared his throat, delicately, recalling her attention.

  I feel as if I must point out that you would not be safe from anything with that at your side." He pointed to the sword with his chin.

  She raised an eyebrow and looked back at Skif. He shrugged. "I don't think we have much choice," he said quietly.

  "Your friend speaks wisely," the Hawkbrother put in. "It may be your escort was attracted by you, or by the weapon you carry. It is magic, and such things are drawn by magic. I think that you would be safer in the company of two mages."

  " Two mages?" boomed out a new voice. Elspeth's heart leapt right out of her body, and only Gwena's shoulder behind her kept her on her feet as her knees dissolved from a combination of startlement and fear.

  "Two mages?" repeated the smaller of the gryphons. "Darrrkwind, do my earrssss decssseive me?" It talks, Elspeth thought, faintly.

  The Hawkbrother-Darkwind, if the gryphon had called him by his correct name-shrugged again. "This is neither the time nor place to speak of my decisions," he replied, and turned to the Heralds. "I phrased myself poorly. I think that you have no real choice. I think you must accept my hospitality, for your own safety and the safekeeping of that which you carry. Though what the Council will say of this," he added, looking at the gryphon who had spoken, and shaking his head ruefully, "I do not care to contemplate."

  The arrogance was back, an imperious quality more suited to a prince of some exotic realm than this-whatever he was. She wanted to angrily deny the fact that they needed protection of any kind, much less his.

  But much as she hated to admit it, she didn't want to have to face any more bizarre monsters. Not right away, anyway.

  "I think we'd better go along with him, Elspeth," Skif Mindspoke tentatively, as if he expected her to turn on him and lash him with her anger for such a suggestion. "I don't know about you, but we can't face any more without some rest. And I really would like to kno
w a little more about what's going on around here before we go charging off on our own." He's some kind of Border Guard, she thought, though not without some resentment. It is his land. I could do with a little less of an attitude, though...She would have preferred to tell him exactly what he could do with his so-called "protection"-to tell him that she would be perfectly fine-to inform him in no uncertain terms, that whatever he thought, she had been sent here, to this very place, by those "Shin'a'in brethren" of his, and that she intended to wait here for them.

  On the other hand, she had no idea why the Shin'a'in had sent her here, nor if they themselves intended to meet her. Maybe all they had meant was to put her in the hands of these Hawkbrothers...What do you think?" she asked Gwena.