Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon - Mage Wars 03 - The Silver Gryphon.txt

by The Silver Gryphon [lit]

expensive business, as I well know. When your dinner can run away from

  you, you’re going to spend a lot of energy hunting and killing it. Vegetarians

  have.it easy. Their dinner can’t move, and they don’t have to do anything

  other than walk up and open their mouths.

  That meant that the predators following them were not following “normal”

  behavior; the gryphon and the human were strange, they might be dangerous,

  hence there was no reason to follow them. In fact, there was every reason to

  avoid them—unless he and Blade were giving off signals that fit the profile of

  “sick, old, very young, or wounded,” or had become familiar enough for their

  pursuers to investigate.

  Either the territory these shadows claimed was so very large that he and

  Blade had been within its boundaries all along, or these creatures were

  something out of the ordinary.

  The fact that one of them had killed and eaten a rabbit did not tend to make

  him believe that they would not attack him or Blade. Wolves made very good

  meals of mice, yet did not hesitate to pull down deer. For that matter, he was

  eating mice this very night! No, a predator’s prey on a given night did not

  necessarily define what it could take. Something as big as a horse could very

  easily consider something as big as a gryphon to be reasonable prey. Top

  predators often pulled down animals very much larger than they themselves

  were; the only exceptions were birds of prey, who would ideally not kill

  anything larger than they could fly off with—generally much less than half the

  bird’s own body weight. The only eagles that had ever carried off lambs were

  Kaled’a’in-bred bondbirds, who had the required wingspread and muscle

  mass, and carried them off at the behest of their bondmates.

  I think we are going to have to set traps around our camps at night, he

  decided reluctantly. Even if these creatures manage to escape from a trap,

  there is a chance that we will make them hesitant to attack us by frightening

  or even injuring one or more. If they are nothing more than animals, the mere

  fact that one of them is hurt should make them give up on making us into

  dinner.

  They would just have to also take the chance that in frightening or injuring

  one of those shadows, they would not make an attack more likely.

  Well, if we anger them, at least we‘II know that they have the intelligence to

  connect a trap outside the camp with the people inside it—and the intelligence

  to want revenge for an injury.

  There was one point on which he felt Blade was incorrect; he was fairly

  certain that the creatures she saw had been very well aware of the presence

  of the camp, and its precise location. They had also probably thought that

  they would not be seen where they were. They must have very keen senses

  to hunt at night, and their sense of smell, at least, had clearly not been

  deceived by his subterfuges with the plant juices. They must have been able

  to scent the fire. Where the fire was, there the camp would also be. And no

  matter how well-banked the fire had been, some hint of it was surely visible

  out there in the darkened forest. No, those creatures knew exactly where the

  camp was; the only encouraging part was that they had not felt it necessary to

  surround the camp and place it in a state of siege. Nor had they decided to

  rush the camp to try and take the occupants by surprise.

  So they don‘t feel ready to try and confront us yet. I hope that their interest

  is only curiosity.

  Noise was priceless; an indicator that the shadows had gone elsewhere to

  hunt for food.

  At least, I hope that’s the case. I hope the canopy dwellers are better at

  spotting these creatures than we are.

  All this was enough to give a gryphon a headache.

  Wait until morning, and I’ll see to it that we’re more careful. And I’ll try and

  make the best time afoot that I can, since I’m the slower of the two of us.

  Maybe we can lose them. Maybe we’ll find a river and really be able to hide

  our scent and our trail. And tomorrow night, if they follow us again, maybe we

  can find a way to discourage them from continuing to do so.

  And maybe horses would fly, and maybe they would stumble upon a lost

  enclave of amorous female gryphons, and maybe this was all just a bad

  dream.

  Tad surveyed the remains of his snare—pulled up out of the ground, and

  left carelessly tangled, but all in a heap, as if it had been examined closely,

  then dropped. It looked very much the same as the debris back at the crash

  site that had been so carefully examined.

  “Well, as I warned you, this is where our friends found their rabbit last

  night,” Blade said with resignation. “See over there?”

  He’d already noticed the few bits of fur and the drops of blood on a dead

  leaf. “I should have known better than to expect that anything would leave a

  snared rabbit alone,” he sighed. “It doesn’t look as if they found any of the

  other snares—but neither did any rabbits. Then again, if any rabbits had,

  they’d probably have gone the way of this one.”

  At least the shadows hadn’t gone looking for other snares. Or had they?

  They’d examined this one that had been sprung; had they gone looking for

  others, found them, and left them alone once they saw how the snares were

  set?

  Or was he ascribing far too much in the way of intelligence to them?

  He regarded the scraps of fur ruefully. Hardly fair to stalk me and then eat

  my breakfast. He thought wistfully of how nice that rabbit would have tasted,

  and resigned himself to a tasteless meal of dried meat, but Blade had been

  out and prowling before he was, and had a surprise for him.

  “Maybe your snares didn’t work, but my sling did,” she said, with a tiny

  smile. She pulled a decent-sized rabbit out of the game bag at her side, and

  his mouth watered at the mere sight of it.

  “Thank you,” he said, doing his best not to snatch it out of her hand. He

  took it politely, but his hunger was too great for more than that. Fortunately

  she was quite used to watching him eat, for his growling stomach made it

  impossible for him to wait long enough for her to go elsewhere while he dined.

  Nor was he able to do anything other than devour his meal in a few gulps.

  “What about you?” he asked belatedly, a moment later, when the rabbit

  was a mere memory and a comfortable feeling in his crop.

  At least I managed to resume civilized behavior without a rabbit leg still

  sticking out of my mouth.

  “I’m appropriating a bit of your dried meat,” she replied. “And I can eat that

  as we move. Let’s get the packs on and get out of here; I don’t want to stay

  here a moment longer than we have to.”

  “Agreed,” he said firmly. “Especially after last night. Luck permitting, we

  should find the river today or tomorrow.”

  The canopy dwellers had gone silent once more on his watch, although he

  had not seen anything. That had given him a very strange feeling; his hackles

  had come up, as he wondered if the shadowy hunters had decided to take a

  walk on the great tree trunk and come at them from the
rear. He’d never know

  until the moment that they came crashing down through the branches and

  canvas. . . .

  But they hadn’t, and the noises had resumed within a very short time,

  remaining at a constant level until dawn. Blade had made another batch of her

  herb concoction and had poured it into one of her waterskins after dabbing

  her itching bites liberally with it. He hoped it worked as well for her in the heat

  of the day as it had last night.

  He put some effort into confusing their backtrail, while Blade set the course.

  This time he laid some false, dead-end trails, even taking one up a tree. That

  made him think; if they had trouble finding a place to shelter tonight, perhaps

  they ought to go up a tree—

  Oh, no. Blade can’t climb with only one hand. Well, so much for that good

  idea. I could perhaps pull her up by rope if it came to that, but the risk of

  hurting her further would be too great.

  Once again, however, they were in luck. This time, in late afternoon, they

  came upon another good site to hole up. It was another fallen tree, but this

  time it was one with a large den dug out underneath it. Whatever had dug it

  originally wasn’t home, and from the look of things, hadn’t been resident for

  some time. It did have some current occupants, far too small to have dug the

  den originally, and between them, he and Blade bagged the entire family of

  five. He wasn’t certain quite what they were; something like a beaver with no

  tail, and about the same size. He didn’t even know what species they were,

  and it really didn’t matter. They had rodent teeth, and that was enough for

  him. Rodents were always edible.

  This bit of good fortune more than made up for the fact that Blade had not

  been as lucky with her sling; the rabbit she had gotten for his breakfast was

  the only kill she’d made all day. She’d had targets, but had missed her throws.

  She was so crestfallen about it that he had done his best to reassure her that

  it was all right.

  Well, tonight he would have a truly full stomach for the first time since the

  crash. The fresh meat had made a great deal of difference to him; he felt

  much more energetic and lively after having it.

  With his help she made a fire outside their den. While she built it up into

  something respectable, he excavated the den quite a bit more. His talons

  weren’t well suited to digging, but he did have determination, and the earth

  was soft. When he finished, he knew that it would be a tight fit for both of

  them, but that they would manage. To keep them off the raw earth, he lined it

  with branches and packed the dirt he’d dug out into a little dam to prevent

  water from coming in during the rain. He took a torch and charred the

  underside of the log to prevent “visitors,” then went out to collect a tangle of

  vines to conceal the entrance. Blade roasted her share of the catch, made up

  her medicine, then put out the fire and buried the ashes, doing her best to

  obliterate any traces of their presence that might persist through the afternoon

  downpour. Like the hollow snag, there would be no room in this den for a fire

  tonight. As long as the den stayed dry, he didn’t think they’d need one.

  Need and want, why are they so far apart sometimes?

  By the time Blade was done tidying things, he was ready to eat; she took

  over, clumsily weaving the vines with one hand and both feet into a rough mat

  that they could pull over the hole. Last of all, she collected a lot of leaves from

  that peppery plant and tucked them into the mat to kill their scent.

  As soon as the rain started, they would climb into this hole and pull the mat

  over the entrance. There they would remain until dawn. In his opinion, this

  was their most vulnerable camp yet, but he had an answer to that.

  Although she couldn’t climb, he could, and since the den was barely big

  enough for the two of them without their packs, he had an idea.

  “Help me with this,” he said, as soon as he’d finished gulping down his

  meal. “I want to make some decoys.” He dragged in some more vines and

  began making them into bundles that resembled a human and something with

  four feet. She was puzzled, but gave him a hand, as the clouds began to

  gather for the afternoon rain.

  “What are you planning on doing with these?” she asked, as the bundles

  began to take shape. “They aren’t going to fool anything for long.”

  “Not if they’re on the ground—but what if they’re up there?” He nodded up

  at the canopy. “I’m thinking of taking the packs and these up to a good branch

  and tying them there. Maybe our trackers will see ‘us’ up there, and decide

  we’re becoming too much work to pursue. Provided, of course, that they can’t

  climb.”

  Somehow, I don’t think they can, even though the canopy creatures are

  afraid of them. I think they’re too big; there’s a maximum size that a tree-

  climbing predator can be and still hunt successfully, and I think they’re bigger

  than that maximum size.

  “If you really want to, it’s worth trying.” She didn’t look convinced, but at

  least she wasn’t too negative. He was just as glad that she didn’t object to him

  taking the packs elsewhere to store; although the tree he had in mind was a

  dwarf by the standards of the ones around him, he was not looking forward to

  the climb, and that was giving him enough qualms without having to argue

  with her.

  He accomplished the feat by clamping all four sets of talons into the bark

  and hitching himself up like an inchworm. This used an entirely new set of

  muscles, as well as awakening a new set of pains in his broken wing, and by

  the time he reached a suitable place to cache the packs and the two decoys,

  he wished with a strength beyond telling that he would have been able to glide

  down instead of climbing. He was not looking forward to retrieving the packs

  in the morning!

  He had taken a rope with him, rather than the packs and the decoys

  themselves. Once he got himself securely in place, he dropped the end down,

  and Blade tied it to the first pack as best she could with one hand. When he

  had hauled that up and tied it successfully in place, he dropped the end back

  down. The second pack came up next, and following that, the two decoys.

  And now, if there is a disaster, Blade will at least have a rope she can try to

  escape by. If there is any time to escape, I can come back up here and pull

  her up. Maybe.

  It did not take long to secure the items in place, but this was not the best of

  perches, nor was it a place where he would have wanted to spend the night.

  The packs would remain dry through the storm, but not the decoys. If they had

  been up here instead of the decoys, it would have been a soggy and most

  uncomfortable night for them.

  He lowered himself down, inching backward and no doubt giving Blade an

  interesting view all the while. He dropped off the trunk the moment he thought

  that he’d be able to land safely. “There!” he said, more briskly and brightly

  than he actually felt. “Now, we have just enough time to rig a deadfall and a

  couple of other trap
s before the rain starts!”

  Blade groaned at the idea of so much work, but nodded. They both knew

  that the more distractions they could offer the hunters, the better.

  And the more challenge we give to their intelligence, the more we‘II learn

  about them.

  He let her lead, though, so that she wouldn’t see how tenderly he was

  walking. His fear was rising again.

  By the time the rain started, their traps were in place and concealed, placed

  in hiding around the tree rather than around their real den, to lend

  verisimilitude to the decoys in the tree. He and Blade scrambled for their

  shelter as the first drops started falling, but as was her custom, she stayed

  outside long enough to get a good sluicing down by the rain before coming in.

  She was soaking wet when she came in, but since he had lined the den

  with branches, they weren’t lying directly on the soil; the water she brought in

  dripped through their bedding and from there into the earth. There wasn’t a lot

  of room to move, and by the time he had snaked out a claw and pulled the

  mat of vines over the entrance, there was even less. By dint of much

  squirming, she managed to anoint both herself and him with her bruise-cum-

  bug-bite medicine. He squinted his eyes at the bitter scent, but decided that

  he could live with it. With any luck, they had to be getting near the river, and

  he could wash it all off rather than attempting to preen it off tomorrow.

  They had deliberately made the entrance as small as possible, just barely

  large enough for him to squeeze inside. That meant that there wasn’t enough

  room for anyone to stand watch except Blade, because she was the one near

  the entrance, and he was crammed so far back that he really couldn’t see

  anything. As thunder roared and the rain fell down mere hand-lengths away

  from their noses, they looked at one another in the semidarkness.

  “There’s no point in really standing watch,” he ventured. “I mean, one of us

  should try and stay awake, just in case one of us can hear something, but

  there’s no point in trying to look out. We made that mat too well; I can’t see

  anything from where I am.”

  “I can’t see that much,” she admitted. “Are you sleepy? Your ears are better

  than mine; if you could take second shift, I can take first.”

  “I have a full stomach, of course I’m sleepy,” he retorted, forbearing to