Winds Of Change v(mw-2

by Mercedes Lackey

  "We'll be more than in the way, if what Hydona said is any indication ' she replied, getting slowly to her feet. "We'd be in danger-and a danger to them. Well, I would be, anyway. Like having a toddling baby underfoot on a tourney field. Nobody would ever hit it on purpose, but...well."

  He nodded, relieved. "There you have it, truly. Would you care to come with me, to find something to eat?" She hesitated a moment, then shrugged. "I'm not hungry, though."

  "All the more reason that you should eat," he told her warningly.

  "Until you are used to it, the manipulating of mage-energies dulls the

  appetite. You must take care that you do not starve yourself." She looked at him in surprise, and must have seen by his expression that he wasn't joking. "Well, that's not such a bad thing if you're on the plump side, but-"

  "Hmm. There are no fat mages," he pointed out as he walked, "except those who habitually and grossly overindulge themselves; those for whom overeating is either a self-indulged vice or a disease. Manipulating mage-energies also costs one in terms of one's own energies, which means that you have just done work, Wingsib. Very hard, physical work, that deceives your own body." He led her to the peculiar Gatelike construction called a "passthrough" that led to the Practice Ground. It was yet another way to ensure that the unwary and unready did not intrude on students at practice, or the Adepts at their work. Because of the wall about it, the grounds could not be seen from outside, nor the Vale from within. They were a place and a time unto themselves. And in fact, he sometimes wondered if time moved a bit differently there.

  She shook her head as she recovered from the jolt of disorientation that accompanied the transition across the pass-through. "How do you ever get used to that?" she asked. "That kind of dizzy feeling, I mean." He raised an eyebrow at her. "We never do," he said simply. "There is a great deal that we never get used to. We simply cease to show our discomfort." She said nothing, but he caught her giving him a speculative look out of the corner of his eye. For his part, he was more concerned with finding one of the hertasi-run "kitchens" before his temper deteriorated.

  Hunger did that to him, and he couldn't always predict what would set him off when his temper wore thin.

  He didn't want to alienate her; the opposite was more like it, but he often felt as if he was dancing on eggs around her. He wondered if she felt the same around him. There was no cultural ground that they could both meet on, and yet they had a great deal in common.

  The "kitchen" was not a kitchen as such; just a common area, a room in one of the few ground-level structures, that the hertasi kept stocked' with fresh fruits, bread, smoked meat, and other things that did not spoil readily. Those Hawkbrothers who either did not have the skill or the inclination to prepare their own meals came here to put together what they pleased. The fare was not terribly varied, but it was good.

  And at the moment, Darkwind had no inclination to make the trek to his own ekele for food. Not while his stomach was throttling his backbone and complaining bitterly.

  He indicated to Elspeth that she should help herself, and chose some fruit and bread, a bit of smoked meat, and a handful of dosent roots that had a cheesy taste and texture when raw. They found a comfortable spot to sit, in an out-of-the-way clearing, and fell to without exchanging much more than nods.

  "So, what was it that Hydona tutored you in?" he asked, when the edge was off his hunger.

  " Baby-steps." She made a face. "This is childish of me, I know, but she had me tapping into a very low-power ley-line, over and over, until she was certain that I could handle it in my sleep. But I was working the node under the lair with Need, and she knows that!"

  "So you wonder why is she insisting that you work with minimal energy?" he replied, trying very hard to see things through her eyes.

  Elspeth nodded, and nibbled a chasem fruit tentatively.

  He licked the juice of another chasem from his fingers, and tried to answer as he thought Hydona would. "Firstly, there are some sources of power that are much too dangerous even for a single Adept to handle.

  Yes, even here, in our own territory. I mean besides the Heartstone." He nodded at her look of surprise. "There are pools of tainted magic, like thin-roofed caves, left by the Mage Wars. Difficult to see from the surface, and deadly to fall into. That is what a Healing Adept must deal with, and at the moment, we have none. There are even perfectly natural sources too strong for one Adept to handle by himself-any node with more than seven ley-lines leading into it, for instance, or rogue lines, which fluctuate in power levels unpredictably. Add in the tendency of lines to move, and you find the only way to use these sources is with a group of Adepts, each one supporting the others, each doing a relatively small amount of work so they have a reserve to deal with emergencies."

  "I can see why she doesn't want me to just tap into whatever powerful source I See," Elspeth replied impatiently, "but why is she insisting that I only work with a bare trickle of power when energy is everywhere?"

  " Ah, but it ' isn't," he replied, happy to at last discover the misconception that was the source of her impatience. "There is a limit on all Gifts, no matter how powerful. There is a limit on how far you, personally, can Farsee, yes?" She nodded, slowly, and focused on him intently, paying very close attention to his words.

  "And when you Mindspeak, you can only do so within a given distance, true?" he continued. "Well, power is not everywhere-or rather, great power is not everywhere. There are places where there are not even weak ley-lines for a day's ride in any direction. There are places where even the nodes are weaker than the line you worked with today. We are Tayledras, Elspeth, and we are enjoined by the Goddess to cleanse these lands of magic. To that end, we concentrate it here. The energy level is unnaturally high in and around a Vale, even one as damaged as this one, and unnaturally high in and about the lands you call the Pelagir Hills, which we call the Uncleansed Lands." She swallowed the bite she had begun with a bit of difficulty. "So you're saying that when I get home, I might find that there's no magic energy to work with?" She looked horrified, and he hastened to assure her.

  "No. I am saying that when you return, you may find you have lower levels of energy available than you have here. Or the power may be there, but buried deeply." He ate the last of his fruit. "That is why there are schools of mages, who build up reservoirs of power that are available to the Masters and Adepts of those schools. And that is why blood-mages build power for themselves by exploiting the pain and death of others.

  So, you must know how to work subtly. You must learn that raining down blows with pure power is not always the correct response. It was not with some of Falconsbane's creatures; that you witnessed." She shook her head; whether stubbornly or for some other reason, he couldn't tell. "Listen," he said, "Hydona believes you are doing well.

  Once you have mastered the fainter sources of power, and in using the energy you yourself have stored within you, she and Treyvan wish us all to take our places on the border." She perked up at that, and he smiled to see her interest. "Really?" she exclaimed. "I've felt so useless. I know you have to learn theory before you practice anything, but-"

  "But you came here to become a weapon against the enemy of your land, I know," he replied. "Now please-I know that you are impatient, but believe me. It is better to use little power rather than too much.

  Using a poleaxe to kill small game destroys the game thoroughly, rendering it useless. So it is with magic. Too much can attract things you do not wish to have to deal with, as a dead creature can attract things more dangerous than it was to scavenge upon it. Master the subtlety Hydona tries to teach you. There will be time and more than time for the greater magics." He watched her face; she seemed thoughtful, and he hoped she believed him, because whether she knew it or not, her life depended on believing him-and sooner than she might think.

  For Hydona had not meant that suggestion in jest, that both of them take up a scout's position on the border of k'sheyna. When they did that, there were no
longer any shields, any protections, or any rules. It would be only themselves and the gryphons, and it might well be that there were things out there that were more powerful and deadly than Mornelithe Falconsbane.

  *Chapter Eight

  So now I'm a scout on the border of the Tayledras territories. In the Pelagirs.

  Me, who never even rode circuit. Mother would have a cat. Elspeth's heart raced every time a bird called an alarm or a stray twig broke, even though she knew very well that potential danger was likely to be upon them long before there were any such warnings. Gwena was jumpy too, and that didn't help her nerves any. She had all her shields down toward Gwena, and whatever her Companion felt, she felt, and vice versa.

  Or was it that Gwena was jumpy after all? The Companion was ill at ease, but it didn't quite have the feeling of nerves.

  All right," she said, suddenly suspicious. "what are you hiding this time?"

  "I wasn't hiding it-at least, not from you," the Companion temporized.

  "I've been keeping something from the others. Well, maybe I have and maybe I haven't-I mean, I don't know how much they've guessed about Cymry and me. So I wasn't really hiding it from you, but-: Elspeth choked and coughed to cover it "Gwena, dear, you can stop babbling, all right? I'd say the Tayledras know plenty about you two, from the way Darkwind dances around you, and they aren't telling me about what they know, either. So you might as well let this great secret out, whatever it is, because even if I don't know about it, they probably do." She couldn't hide her resentment at that, and didn't try. It was obviouswould have been plain even to a child-that the Hawkbrothers considered the Companions something quite special, according them more reverence than they even got at home in Valdemar. But the Tayledras wouldn't discuss the Companions at all without one of them being present, as if they were determined not to offend the Companions or reveal something they shouldn't.

  And even if there was nothing to this dancing about the bushes, it drove Elspeth to distraction.

  "Well," Gwena said slowly, "I would have to tell you soon, anyway. It IS not really all that complicated.

  Now that you know how to channel mageenergies, and you know how to feed someone else and be fed in turnwellcan feed you." Elspeth was past being surprised. She simply nodded. "And of course it would have been no use telling me this before I had the skill, I know." She closed her eyes and counted to ten, very, very carefully. "You aren't keeping anything else back, are you?"

  "No," Gwena replied in a subdued voice. "No, not really. I can feed you if you need it, but I' subject to the same limitations you are. Except-: Elspeth counted to ten a second time. "Except?" Gwena waited a long time, and Elspeth sensed that she was choosing her words very carefully. "Except that you and I are a special pairing; so special that distance doesn't matter between us. That's all. I'm-different that way. It's like a lifebonded pair working together. Ask Darkwind about that some time, if you like; there are things a pair can do that even two Adepts working together can't do." A vague memory fluttered at the back of her mind; something about a dark, windy night, the night when Gwena had Chosen her.

  But the memory escaped before she could grasp it and she gave up trying to get it back after a fruitless moment of concentrating. "I won't say I'm unhappy to hear that," she told Gwena sincerely. "If things ever go badly for us, you and I might need that edge. I-don't suppose this means you're a mage, too-does it?"

  "oh, no!" Gwena replied, her mind-voice bright with relief. "No, not at all! I can just tap into nodes, energy-lines, and fields. All Companions can, just most of them can't use it for more than-oh, the usual. Healing themselves quickly, extended endurance, and running faster than a horse can.

  And they certainly can't feed their Chosen. that's why we're white, you know-ask Darkwind about node-energy and bleaching." She sat up straighter, and looked up in the tree above her at Darkwind, who was "taking the tree-road." Except that right now he was just sitting; letting Vree do his scouting for him before they all moved on to another spot on their patrol. "Darkwind?" she whispered.

  He looked down at her, but did not give her the hand signal that indicated she should be quiet.

  "Gwena says I should ask you about node-energy and bleaching. She says that's why Companions are so white, because they use node-power to increase speed and endurance." She shook her head, still trying to figure it out.

  But Darkwind seemed to get the point immediately; his eyes lit up, and he grabbed the branch beneath him. He swung down off his branch perch like a rope dancer, to land lightly beside her. "So! That is the piece of the puzzle that I have missed!" he said cheerfully. "I think you need not fear lack of nodes and power in your land, if all your Companions are able to tap them to enhance their physical abilities. That must mean that there is no scarcity of mage-energy.

  Well, that was a great weight off her mind. "About bleaching?" she prompted.

  He tugged at his own hair, and she noticed that white roots were starting to show and that the color had faded to a dull tan. "Use of node-energy gradually bleaches a mage; the color-making dies in skin, hair, and eyes, and the color that is already there is leeched away. I do not lie when I say that magery changes a person. So-your Companions use node-energy, and thus are blue-eyed, silver-coated, gray-hooved."

  "Silver-hooved," Gwena said with dignity. He chuckled softly, and tapped her nose.

  "If you insist, my lady." He turned back to Elspeth. "My hair is not white, because as a scout I dye it. Tayledras all live with node-energy, whether we are mages or no, so nonmages bleach as well. Mages are silver-haired usually in their fifth year of practice; any other member of the Clan will have made the change at, oh, thirty summers, or thereabouts.

  Even with dye, I must renew the color every few days now that I am a mage again." Elspeth could only cast her eyes upward. "It's like continuous sun on them, then? No wonder dye won't take on them," she said. "The gods know we've tried often enough-you know, it's damned hard to disguise a big white horse!"

  "Sorry," Gwena put in. "Can't help it."

  "In a trade-off between endurance and the rest of it, and being unable to disguise them, I think I'll take the endurance," Elspeth said, as much for Gwena's ears as Darkwind's. And for Gwena's ears only, "I'll take you just the way you are, oh great sneak," and felt Gwena's rush of pleasure, much like a pleasantly embarrassed flush.

  He shrugged. "It is the choice I would make. Besides, now that you are a mage, you may make her seem any color you choose, by illusion." Before she could answer that, he was back up in the tree again, swarming up the trunk like a squirrel, and hooking the branches above him with the peculiar weapon-tool he kept in a sheath on his back. She still didn't see how he could possibly climb that quickly, even with the spikepalmed climbing gloves he wore; humans shouldn't be able to climb like that.

  She was about to ask him what was going on, when he gave her the hand signal indicating that she should remain quiet. She and Gwena froze, statue still, trusting to the bushes they sheltered in to keep them from sight.

  She didn't dare let down her shields to probe about her. Darkwind had warned her of the danger of that, and after hearing more about Mornelithe Falconsbane and the creatures he had commanded, she was inclined to listen to him and believe. But she was free enough to use every other sense, and she did. At first she couldn't tell that there was anything at all out of the ordinary, but then she realized that the forest was a little too quiet. No birdcalls, no wind stirring the branches, nothing but the little ticks the red and golden leaves made as they fell.

  "Els-peth?" came the tentative mental touch, as soft as the caress of a feather. "Vree has found someone. I sense only a void, which means that there is someone inside a shield where Vree sees a two-legged creature." Darkwind had told her that he would use Mindspeech only if he had determined that an enemy could not hear it, and had explained that he would test with a quick mental probe of his own, too swift to fix on. She had wanted to object, but it was his land and he was used to scouting i
t; she had to assume he knew what he was doing. And evidently he did..."We're going to have to work out what I should do if someone ever does catch a probe and lock horns with you," she interjected, Sending a mental picture of stags in full battle.

  A rush of chagrin accompanied his reply "You are right. But-not now."

  "No," she agreed. "Not now."

  "What do you want me to do? Should I try a probe? Are the gryphons going to get in on this?"

  "Not unless there is no other choice," he replied firmly. "We need to keep their existence as quiet as possible; there are surely others besides Falconsbane who might covet them or the small ones. And you may try a mind-magic probe, but I think you will encounter the same shields as I have. No, you and I will confront and warn him. If he does not heed the warning, we will deal with him-: He broke off his link with her so suddenly that she was afraid that something had locked him in mental battle after all. But then, a heartbeat later, his mind-voice returned. "there is an additional complication," he said dryly; she looked up to find him looking down at her with a face full of irony. "It seems our intruder is a Changechild."