Owlflight

by Mercedes Lackey

  “Well, if you have a headache,” Snowfire said gently after a few minutes, “then this will be a good excuse to go find Nightwind and introduce you to the third species that is with us on this expedition.” Snowfire patted him on the shoulder and rubbed at Darian’s back a bit, companionably. “Nightwind can get you a soothing-potion, and you can meet Kelvren.”

  “Who’s Kelvren?” Darian asked, both curious and a little apprehensive. His headache had subsided from the worst disorientation, and he tried to remember what the other nonhuman races were that Snowfire had mentioned. One was kyree, and one was tervardi—

  “Oh, I think you’ll like him a great deal,” Snowfire said with a chuckle. “Though you mustn’t let him intimidate you. He won’t try to intimidate you, it is simply that sometimes, his people do, just by being themselves. Kelvren is—a gryphon.”

  Five

  Snowfire had been struck speechless when Tyrsell offered to “give” Darian the Tayledras language. Just what is he planning, here? he asked himself—not with any suspicion that Tyrsell intended any kind of wrong, but because of what that “gift” would entail. For one thing, Snowfire certainly hadn’t expected the dyheli to make any such offer, and for another, it was definitely an offer of far more than appeared on the surface.

  :What do you think you’re doing?: he asked the stag. :Not that this isn’t a great deal more expedient, but the boy has no idea what this is going to mean to him!:

  :That is precisely why I suggested it,: Tyrsell replied calmly, blinking as lazily as if he had suggested a change of grazing spots. :In this case, it is quite true that although what he does not know about what we’ll have to do is not going to hurt him, what he doesn’t know about the Mind-Gifts is, and if by taking a few shortcuts we can keep his own budding abilities from harming him—and, not so incidentally, us—where’s the wrong?:

  :The wrong is in the deception,: Snowfire told him severely. :You’re deceiving him into thinking this is something very simple.:

  :What deception? He won’t care about what we have to do to put the knowledge in his mind, he’s only interested in the results.: Tyrsell, as was the case with most of the dyheli, had a slightly different perspective on morality than humans did. To Snowfire’s mind, this was one of the two-edged swords of being allies with nonhumans. Dyheli focused on expediency, hertasi saw no harm in meddling in private affairs because hertasi had no such thing as a “private affair,” and gryphons were downright bloody-minded at times.

  :And he is rightly concerned only with results, too,: Tyrsell continued. :We know that the fact is that we’ll have to establish links and shields in order to get that knowledge into him, but that’s of no concern to him. He could care less, and since those links and shields are not only not going to harm him, but are actually going to help him, I think that the fact that we’ll have to put them in place without his actual consent is irrelevant.:

  Snowfire couldn’t put into words why he objected to the dyheli’s high-handed assumption that mucking about with someone else’s mind didn’t matter as long as the results were good—but he Sent his feelings about it as forcefully as he could.

  Tyrsell remained calm, switching his tail to ward off some troublesome flies as he continued to bombard Snowfire with impersonal logic, his eyes warm and serene above the dark cheek-stripes that made his face look like a painted mask. :Let’s look at this from the position of efficiency. Can you really afford the time, effort, and energy it would take to give him the language magically? Of course not. Can you keep shepherding him around and translating for him? That’s equally absurd. Can you explain to him what links and shields are in a way he’ll understand right now, given that you are not only working with someone who doesn’t have the understanding of Mind-Gifts, but are having to translate from your language to his? Not a chance. So, by doing this, you free yourself for other work, you give him some much-needed autonomy, and you keep him from being overwhelmed if his Gift of Mindspeech suddenly decides to develop. What would you, what could you do if it decided to flower overnight at a time when you were off on a scouting sortie or trying to fend off those barbarians? Expect Wintersky to take care of it? He’s barely into controlling his own Mindspeech as it is! Leave it to Starfall? And just how is he supposed to hold the matrices at the same time? Nightwind’s Mindspeech is rudimentary; she hasn’t the tools to teach a beginner. And who else is there he will trust?:

  Snowfire frowned, but he had to admit that Tyrsell was right. :You come perilously close to amorality,: he told the dyheli.

  :Never. My morality is just that of the herd, that the herd is more important than a single member; and when it comes to it, your morals are the same. Didn’t you just say that if it would save the world from another Ma’ar, you wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice yourself and the boy and anyone else?: Tyrsell held his head up and looked Snowfire right in the eyes, challenging him stallion to stallion, daring him to deny what he had told Starfall not more than a few moments ago.

  :I said, I’d sacrifice volunteers—: he replied weakly, but Tyrsell had him, and they both knew it. :You win,: he admitted. :This time.:

  :And next time, you may.: Now that the challenge was over, Tyrsell was perfectly amiable again. :Don’t worry so much about winning arguments, my friend. Concentrate on keeping the herd intact and in good health.:

  Darian was pathetically eager to have the ability to understand those around him, and from the little Snowfire could sense from him, he would have been willing to get it at almost any cost. That soothed his raw conscience a little. After he’d given his immediate consent, the boy waited expectantly, eyes focused on Tyrsell’s, for the magic to happen.

  :Get ready to catch him,: the dyheli warned, and reached out to seize the boy’s mind. This was the greatest Gift the herd leaders had; the ability to overwhelm any mind not heavily shielded—and many that were—without any damage to that mind whatsoever. This was how a herd leader could guide his frightened followers to safety when they were hysterical with terror and unable to think or reason. He could seize as many as a dozen minds at once or even more, and use those he controlled to guide the rest of the herd behind him. Dyheli never seemed to resent this, perhaps because herd morality was as deeply a part of them as individuality was for Tayledras. This was how the herd leaders were chosen. Instead of grappling horn-to-horn as their distant ancestors had, they fought mind-to-mind, and the strongest mind, or the one with the most endurance, won the right to father the next generation and guide this one.

  A moment later, Snowfire caught the child as he collapsed, all his joints suddenly gone loose, every muscle limp. He laid Darian down carefully in a spot of sun on the grass, and lowered all his own shields, joining his mind as intimately to Tyrsell’s as he ever had to Hweel’s. More so, perhaps, since that melding was so natural a part of a dyheli’s mind.

  With the two of them working as one, the speed with which they built temporary shields around Darian’s mind was literally that of thought. Then Snowfire formed a deep link to Darian below the level of thought itself, so deep that the boy would never know it was there, and never detect any difference in the way he felt. While he held that link wide open, Tyrsell went to work on Snowfire’s memories. The herd leader extracted, not only the language of the Tayledras, but the knowledge of the language, and placed it carefully into the boy’s own memories, building it up from the level just above instinct, the way that a baby learns. Now Darian would not have to think to translate—he would have the Tayledras tongue as if he had been bilingual from his very first word.

  In this fashion, Tyrsell’s way was infinitely better than the spell and Mindtouch that Snowfire had used to learn Valdemaran. Snowfire made a mental note to one day ask Darian—once the boy really knew what he was consenting to—to allow Tyrsell to reverse the process, and give Snowfire such a sure knowledge of the language of Valdemar.

  Tyrsell was swift and certain; there was something about the way that a dyheli’s mind worked that (when they had Tyrsell’
s particular Gifts) made them instinctive geniuses at laying in language-paths. In the time it took Snowfire’s heart to take three, slow beats, Tyrsell was done. He withdrew his mind first, leaving Snowfire to close all but the deep-link path behind him, and setting the shields he had laid in place to fade as the boy took over his own shielding needs. Darian would hear and understand any deliberate Mindtouch on the part of any dyheli or Tayledras, but no one could force his mind open, or really do anything other than talk with him. And Darian would never hear unwanted thoughts intruding on him if his ability to Mindhear suddenly became more than the close-range, rudimentary ability he had now.

  As Snowfire withdrew and made some swift observations of the boy’s potential Gifts, he realized that such a thing was far more likely than he had thought when Tyrsell first proposed this operation. Perhaps it was the sheer number of traumas that the boy had passed through, but—well, going abruptly from “normal” to wide open was a very real possibility.

  And it was a good thing that Snowfire had the deep-link in place. At that level, he would not eavesdrop on the boy’s private thoughts, but he would know if Darian was in distress, he would know if any of the boy’s potentials suddenly opened up, and he would be able to track Darian if he somehow got separated from the Tayledras encampment.

  Tyrsell had certainly noticed the same things, and very diplomatically did not say “I told you so.” :A neat piece of work,: was all he said, and about that moment, the boy awoke—probably with a splitting headache. Still, Snowfire thought, not without sympathy, the spell would have given him as bad a headache, and maybe worse.

  Darian’s words and actions confirmed that diagnosis, but he still remained polite enough despite the pain to thank Tyrsell for his efforts. Snowfire noted with pleasure that he spoke Tayledras with the unconscious ease of a native.

  Tyrsell lost all interest in the boy now that the work was complete; that, too, was typical of dyheli, and because Snowfire was used to it, he wasn’t at all offended. Darian was too preoccupied with his headache to notice what could have been considered very rude behavior, but was really only more dyheli “expediency.”

  But the boy all but forgot the pounding in his skull when Snowfire told him that he was about to meet a gryphon.

  “A gryphon?” Darian asked incredulously, his eyes lighting up with absolute delight. “A real gryphon? Here?”

  “A real gryphon,” Snowfire told him, smiling a little at his wide eyes. “Nightwind is only incidentally acting as our Healer; her main job is to be Kelvren’s trondi’irn.” Since that word was not Tayledras, but Kaled’a’in, and not part of the language as Darian had “learned” it, Snowfire explained it. “A trondi’irn is a special attendant for nonhuman creatures, although usually it is only the gryphons who need such help. They do all the things that the gryphons cannot—it is very difficult for gryphons to manage fine manipulations with talons, for instance—and they take care of the little ailments that nonhumans fall prey to. Because they understand these things so well, if they are attending to only one nonhuman, they often double as the Healers for small expeditions such as ours. Back in the times of long ago, a trondi’irn would often manage the needs of a very large group of gryphons or other nonhumans, but that is no longer the case.”

  Darian nodded earnestly, but it was very obvious that his mind was not on Nightwind and her duties. “Is he really as big as they say?” he asked eagerly. “Is he really as big as a house? Can he really fly? Does he eat whole horses in a bite?”

  Snowfire chuckled. “Oh, gryphons are not as large as all that, but if they spread their wings wide, I think it is safe to say that their wingspan is easily as big or bigger than a house. And although they do not eat whole horses in one bite, they do eat quite a lot. Kelvren has to do a great deal of hunting to keep himself supplied with meat.”

  “Can he talk?” Darian asked next, practically skipping in eagerness to see the marvel. “Will I hear him thinking at me like Tyrsell?”

  “No, he speaks Tayledras very well, although he tends to have what we call a ‘gryphonic accent.’ You’ll see what that means in a little.” Snowfire patted the boy’s shoulder. “He really is looking forward to meeting you.”

  By this time they had wound their way back to the clearing, and as Snowfire made that last statement, a deep voice spoke from the shelter of a shadowy bower immediately ahead of them.

  “Ah, but isss the young gentleman quite prrreparrred to meet me?”

  A deeper shadow rose out of the rest, and strolled forward into the sunlight, then posed perfectly in the best possible light. Kelvren looked truly magnificent, and knew it.

  Darian’s eyes widened, and he stared at Kelvren with all the fascination of a Kaled’a’in messenger-bird with a shiny new toy.

  * * *

  Darian had not yet gotten used to the wonder of being able to talk to Snowfire in the Hawkbrother tongue without having to think about it, when a deep, resonant voice speaking out of the shadows just ahead of them captured all of his attention. He and Snowfire were standing in a rare patch of brilliant sun in the middle of the clearing that he had been taken to for the meeting; ahead of them, the shadows were so deep and black by contrast that he might have been peering into a well. When he tried to make out who or what was speaking, the contrast defeated him.

  “Ah,” said the voice, a rumbling bass with odd over-tones, “but isss the young gentleman quite prrreparrred to meet me?”

  A moment later, part of the darkest shadow detached itself from the rest, and moved forward into the sun. And although it was not as big as a house, it was entirely large enough to satisfy Darian.

  The creature that moved into the sunlight was a glistening golden brown with a hint of metallic gold at the edges of each of his perfectly-defined feathers. His head, broad and handsome, with jaunty ear-tufts, had a definite eagle look about it, and at a guess, the folded wings would easily span the length of a house, if not more. Both front and rear feet ended in formidable talons, each as long as Darian’s hand. He sported a wide leather collar adorned with delicate scrollwork attached to an equally handsome body-harness with a chest-plaque, the front yoke of which had a matching leather pouch attached. As he stared down at Darian, looking every bit as haughty and regal as Darian could have wished, he took the boy’s breath away. He was, in every way, a wonder, and Darian could not have taken his eyes off of him if the earth had fallen away beneath the boy’s feet.

  Once he had come fully into the sun, the gryphon didn’t move, which was probably just as well. Darian’s heart was pounding with excitement, and he had a shivery feeling as he looked at that huge beak and those cruel talons that his excitement could easily turn to fear.

  “I think you’ve made a conquest, Kel,” Snowfire laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners with merriment.

  “Asss it ssshould be,” the gryphon replied, raising his head a bit higher with such unconcealed vanity that Darian, too, was startled into a laugh. And the gryphon joined in their laughter, proving that he was not unaware of his vanity and the absurdity of it.

  “Darian, this is Kelvren Skothkae, who is an unranked gryphon-scout of the full k’Vala gryphon-wing,” Snowfire told him, his eyes sparkling. “Kel, this is Dar’ian Firkin k’Valdemar.”

  “Unranked?” Kelvren replied, cocking his head to one side speculatively. “Perrrhapsss now—but I think ourrr wingleaderrr had bessst look to hisss posssition, or think about rrretirrring. I intend to make a grrreat name forrr myssself on thisss expedition.”

  “You’ve certainly said so often enough,” Snowfire teased, and Kelvren snapped playfully in his direction, then turned his head pointedly toward Darian, pretending to ignore Snowfire.

  The boy found himself the focus of those huge, piercing eyes, and suddenly understood why rabbits froze when hawks caught sight of them.

  “And what think you of ourrr little family?” the gryphon asked. “Arrre we all you had thought we would be, when you thought of Tayledrrrasss?”

&nb
sp; “More,” Darian was able to say honestly, and with unfeigned enthusiasm. “I—I think that you’re all just—just—unbelievable!” He shook his head carefully, to avoid making the headache any worse. “And you, sir, you’re just like seeing an amazing tale come right to life in front of me! I never thought I’d ever get to see a real gryphon in my whole life, and I never, ever, thought a gryphon would be as—as—as wonderful as you are!”

  “Rrreally?” the gryphon purred, and Darian could tell that he was very pleased. He even preened a little. “Well. Thank you! I hope I can jussstify that impresssssion.”

  “You could prove how great a tracker you are by finding Nightwind,” Snowfire suggested, with a twitch of his mouth that showed he was trying hard to keep from laughing.

  “Pah, that takesss no trrracking,” Kelvren replied dismissively. “You will find herrr at the pool, wherrre I left herrr. I believe ssshe is waiting forrr you and wissshesss to sssee thisss obssserrrvant young brrrancherrr.”

  “And you? Are you coming with us?” Snowfire asked.

  “I am ssstarrrved, and if we arrre to underrrtake that sorrrtie tonight, I mussst eat now ssso I am crrrop-light but enerrrgizsssed.” With that, the gryphon spread his wings, which were even larger than Darian had imagined; as Snowfire took Darian’s shoulder and pulled the boy back to the edge of the clearing, Kelvren made one or two experimental wingbeats that sent wind whipping around both of them.