Winds Of Change v(mw-2

by Mercedes Lackey

  Her first thought had been: it must be Nyara. Her second thought had been that it couldn't be Nyara, but that it must be another of her father's creatures, running wild with Falconsbane gone. She tried a mental probe and discovered that just as Darkwind had said, the creature had very strong shields, well beyond her ability to counter. So the only way to learn anything about it was to confront it.

  As she and Darkwind watched the intruder from their respective hiding-places, she knew all of her guesses about it had been wrong.

  She didn't know whether to be relieved that this interloper was not their Nyara, or not. If it had been Falconsbane's daughter, the situation between herself and Darkwind would have been complicated enormously.

  Her own instincts warred with her on the subject; she trusted Nyara to a limited extent, and she certainly felt that the Changechild had been greatly wronged and abused, but-But Nyara was incredibly, potently, sexually attractive. She couldn't help herself. Elspeth would have to have been blind not to see that Darkwind had wanted her as much as Skif had and that if anything had kept them from becoming intimate, it wasn't lack of attraction. She suspected that his own innate suspicion, lack of opportunity, and Perhaps something on Nyara's part had kept him from playing the role Of lover. As it was, that night before Dawnfire had returned to them, trapped in the body of her bondbird, it had been Skif, not Darkwind, who had taken that role. And, perhaps, guilt had kept Darkwind at arm's length. Guilt, that kept him from taking a new lover when his former love was a captive, confined to a bird's body by the temptress' father.

  But Falconsbane was dead, or the next thing to it, and Dawnfire was out of reach of any of them. That left him free. And if he encountered Nyara before Skif did, would he be able to stand against temptation a second time? Especially if Nyara were to make overtures?

  Knowing men, she didn't think so.

  But at the same time, discovering that this stranger was not Nyara was a disappointment. However brief their acquaintance had been, Elspeth liked Nyara, and felt a great deal of sympathy for her. And she sometimes spared a moment to worry about her, out there in the wild lands that k'sheyna no longer held, with a mage-sword who might not even like her. She had few or no provisions, no shelter against the coming winter unless she had somehow found or made one...Well, this wasn't the time to worry about their errant Changechild.

  Not with another standing on k'sheyna lands, within k'sheyna bordersand by the blood on its hands and the circle about its feet, one who was up to no good.

  Elspeth had done enough hunting in her time not to be sickened by the blood of a butchered deer. What made her ill were the fact that it was a dyheli that had been slain, and the signs that the butchery had taken place before it was dead, not after.

  Blood-magic. Wasn't that what Darkwind and Quenten both mentioned, but wouldn't talk about?

  Well, here it was-a "blood-mage"-and now that she knew what to Look for, she Sensed the power that the mage had drawn into himself as a result of his work. It wasn't power she could have used under any circumstances; in fact, it made her a little nauseous to brush against it just long enough to figure out what it was. But it was power) and she had a notion that the death of a thinking, reasoning creature like a dyheli would have given this mage four times the strength that a deer would have. Perhaps more, depending on how long it had suffered.

  Easy power, easily obtained, from a source you can find anywhere. And if you're sadistic by nature, a source that gives pleasure when exploited. NO wonder Ancar is attracted to it.

  If Nyara was feline in nature, this creature was serpentine. As he moved about, disposing of his victim, he glided rather than walked, and many of his motions had a bonelessness to them that made her shiver in an atavistic reaction to the evocation of "snake." Odd. the hertasi don't do that to me, and they aren't half as human. I wonder why this thing does?

  What exposed skin she saw-mostly hands and a glimpse of cheek-gleamed in the late afternoon light, with a kind of matte reflectivity that hinted at hard, shiny scales.

  He dressed for deep cold, rather than the autumnal chill of the season; heavy leather boots, thick hose, a fur-lined tunic and cloak, and a heavy velvet shirt beneath the tunic. The colors were curious; a strange, dappled golden brown shading into deep orange-colors that blended surprisingly well into the foliage. Whatever else he was, this Changechild was canny. If he lay unmoving in the heart of a thicket, no one would ever see him.

  The Changechild looked up at the first rustle of leaves, and froze in a combat-ready crouch. Darkwind dropped out of the branches like a great hawk coming to land, his knees flexed, and his hands in front of him, wary and ready to launch into an attack or defense as the need arose.

  The creature faced her fully now, and she saw that beneath the hood of his cloak, his face was curiously flat, with a thin, lipless mouth, and unblinking eyes as round as marbles. He straightened, but did not relax his wary pose.

  Neither did Darkwind.

  "You trespass," the Hawkbrother said clearly and slowly, in the most common of the trade-tongues used hereabouts. "You trespass upon the lands of the Tayledras k'sheyna, and you pollute those lands with blood needlessly spilled." That thin mouth stretched in what might have passed for a smile in any other creature. He straightened with arrogant self-assurance. "Not needlessly," he said. "and who or what are you to tell me what I may or may not do?"

  "Tayledras k'sheyna," Darkwind replied flatly. "These are our lands.

  We do not permit this. You will depart, taking your filth with you." The mouth stretched a little more, and the creature's hands flexed a little. "What? Run from a single foe? I think not." He made no gesture, but the circle he had drawn about his feet in blood flamed with sullen powerand, horribly, the disemboweled dyheli on the ground beside him heaved itself to its feet. It stood swaying a little, a gaping hole where its belly should have been, its eyes red with that same sullen power, and a dull glow about its hooves and horns.

  "You are only one," the Changechild said softly. "One single Hawkbrother is hardly a threat. This weak creature was not enough. I think you will do to serve me." Elspeth did not need Darkwind's signal to step from concealment, with Gwena at her side. She took up her position near enough to the Hawkbrother that they could not easily be separated, but distant enough that they would not interfere with each other.

  "We are Tayledras k'sheyna Darkwind said, firmly, but with no hint of anger. "And you will leave now." This time Hydona was not around to keep her from using the strongest source of power she could Sense, and there was a three-line node not more than a furlong from where they stood. She tapped into it. quickly; to her Othersight it glowed with healthy green fire, and touching it was a pleasant jolt, as if she took a deep draught of cold spring water on a hot day. She established her link and channeled power to herself and her shields before the stranger had a chance to respond to Darkwind's challenge. She kept the level of her outermost shield the same so as not to warn him; at minimal strength, the kind of mage-shield a beginner would build. But, like a paper screen hiding a stone barrier, beneath the disguising energies of the first shield was a second, and it was linked to the node-power.

  It was just as well that she did, because the Changechild's reply was to attack.

  He was no Falconsbane, but he was no Apprentice, either. He chose his target cleverly, launching his initial onslaught against Elspeth rather than Darkwind. Perhaps he was deceived by the rudimentary outer shield, or perhaps he was under the impression that a female would be less prepared and less aggressive than a male.

  If that was the case, he judged wrongly.

  She Saw his attack as he launched it; a flight of white-hot energy-daggers that he flung at her with both hands. She anticipated the direction of his attack by his eyes-and was ready in time to reflect them straight back at him, holding up mirror-shielded hands that doubled the flame-bright weapons back on themselves and sent them back on their original path. that must have been something of a shock to him, for he d
id not even deflect them properly, much less reabsorb them. They impacted on his shields, splintering silently into a thousand shard-sparks, and he flinched away.

  Before he had a chance to recover from that shock, Darkwind had launched an attack of his own, but not one he likely would have expected.

  He attacked the mage's shields with a needle-lance of force, not the mage himself, boring through the protections at their weakest point, where some of the energy daggers had impacted. The blue-white lance split the air between them, and Darkwind held it straight on target, despite the Changechild's best efforts to shake it off. Elspeth readied a second attack, arrows of lightning, but did not launch it, holding it in reserve.

  The Changechild sent his unliving creature to attack them; the shambling, bloody thing charged with a speed quite out of keeping with the condition it was in. It was halfway to them before Elspeth realized that it was an attack, but Gwena intercepted it, like a trained war-horse, as if she had dealt with such things all her life. She sidestepped the wicked horns neatly, and twisted sideways to launch a cruel double-hooved kick with her hind legs as the thing passed, that sundered its hips with a meaty thunk and a wet crack.

  The dead thing staggered and went down again, and tried to heave itself erect. But it could not struggle upright again, for its hip and one of its hind legs were broken and would no longer bear its weight.

  At that same instant, Darkwind penetrated the Changechild's shields, and Elspeth launched the lightning-arrows she had been readying, targeting them at the hole Darkwind had bored and was even now spreading open. The first one missed slightly, impacting just to one side of the hole, splintering as had the mage's own energy-daggers.

  The second did not miss, nor did Darkwind's fireball that followed in the arrow's wake.

  Within the enemy's shields and contained by them, a storm of utterly silent fireworks erupted. The Changechild stood frozen for a moment, a dark silhouette against a background of coruscating energies-Then he collapsed to the ground as his shields collapsed around him, and, like the dyheli that had been his victim, did not move again.

  They patrolled the border until nightfall and the arrival of Summersky, the scout that was to relieve them, but there wasn't so much as a leaf out of place. As they headed homeward toward the Vale, Elspeth found herself very glad that she was riding. Although Hydona had warned her that a mage-duel would take far more out of her than she would ever believe, she hadn't really understood what the gryphon meant. Now though-now she knew Hydona was not only right, she had understated the case. Mostly all that she wanted right now was a soak in one of the hot springs, a meal, and her bed.

  But besides being weary, she was very confused; a poor combination, all things considered. She was dissatisfied with her first foray on k'sheyna's border. Certainly there were questions that had not been answered adequately.

  And as she followed in Darkwind's wake, watching him stride tirelessly along with one hand on Treyvan's shoulder and folded wing, and Vree perched on a padded perch on his shoulder, she tried to reconcile her mixed emotions. It didn't help matters any that from this angle she had such a good view of his tight, muscular...Hydona trilled to herself, apparently amused by a private joke. The female gryphon walked beside her as her mate strode beside Darkwind, all of them following a dry streambed back to the Vale. Hydona's head was easily level with Elspeth's, which was a little unsettling, since it underscored how very large the gryphon was. It was easy to forget that, when one often saw them lounging about like overgrown house cats.

  "And what arrre you thinking?" Hydona asked, as if she were following Elspeth's thoughts.

  "I'm not sure," she said, frowning, trying to put her emotional reactions into words. "This isn't the first time I've been in combat-it isn't even the first time I've been in magical combat. I think we did all right-"

  "You did," Hydona confirmed. "Verrry well, essspecially forr a beginerrr.

  But asss you pointed out, you have had combat experrrience, and I expected nothing lesss than competence." She cocked her head at Elspeth. "How do you feel you will manage againssst that enemy of yourrrsss.

  She thought for a moment, weighing what she could do now with what she knew Ancar could produce. "Well, providing Ancar hasn't acquired an army of mages, I should be able to do something about him, if I can keep progressing at this rate. I mean, it isn't easy, but so far I haven't lost any body parts. Provided I don't reach an upper limit to my powers in the near future, and Ancar hasn't learned to tap nodes. I know he should be a Master-class mage by now at the very least."

  "One should neverrr trrusst an enemy to be placssid. What about yourrr perrrforrrmance?" Hydona asked shrewdly. "How would you rrrate yourssself ?"

  "Darkwind and I worked together as a team quite well, I think. At least we did once he got around to doing something." There it was; that was what she had been trying to pinpoint as the root of her discontent.

  "But that was the problem; he gave that damned thing a warning even after we knew it had worked blood-magic!" She couldn't keep indignation from creeping into her voice, and didn't try. Kero would have cut the interloper down where he stood; filled him full of so many arrows that he would have looked like a hedgehog.

  "The oddssss werrre two to one," Hydona responded. "Thrree to one, if we count Gwena. Don't you think that the crrreaturrre dessserrved a fairr warrrning with oddsss like that?" Elspeth shook her head, stubbornly. "No," she said flatly, and her voice shook a little with intensity. "I don't. We knew he was a bloodmage; there's no point in giving something like that a chance to get away or hurt you. I sure as Havens don't intend to give Ancar a shred of warning. In fact, if I get the chance, I'll ambush him!" As always, the mere thought of Ancar and what he had done made her blood boil. The tortures he had inflicted on Talia-the rape of his own country-the hundreds, thousands of lives he had thrown away-but most of all, the careless glee he had taken in it all-No, when she thought of Ancar, all she could think of was the chance of getting him in her power and shredding him. She hated him, she hated everything he'd ever done, and she wanted him dead, safely dead, so that he couldn't hurt anyone any more.

  Ever.

  In fact, if there was a way to destroy his very soul, she'd do it, so that there wouldn't even be a chance he'd be reborn and start over again, as some mages could.

  "You arrre angrrry," Hydona observed. "This enemy of yourrrsss angersss you."

  "I'm always angry when I think about Ancar," she replied fiercely.

  "I can't help it; the man's another Falconsbane, just as evil and as corrupt, and I want him dead as much as any Tayledras could ever have wanted Falconsbane dead." She raised her chin defiantly. "More than that, I want Ancar's liver on a plate, so I can feed it to something vile.

  I not only want to kill him, I want to hurt him so that he knows some Of what his victims felt. I hate him, I'm afraid of him, and if there were any way to put him through what he has put others through, I'd take it.~ Hydona shook her head with open admonition. "You arrre too angrrry." she said. "It isss not underrr contrrol, thisss angerrr. Hate will not serrve you herrrre. And ssssuch hate, sssuch angerrr will weaken you. You musst learrrn to contrrrol them, orr they will contrrol you.

  Thisss I know." Elspeth grimaced, but kept her lips clamped tight on what she wanted to say. This wasn't the first time she'd heard this particular lecture; the first time, it had come from Darkwind. And it just made her angrier.

  How could she not hate the bastard, after everything he'd done to her friends and her land? How could she not hate him after seeing what he had done to his own people? How could she not feel enraged at everything he had done?

  And how in Havens could an emotion that strong possibly be a weakness?

  It was a contradiction in terms.

  But there was absolutely no point in getting into an argument over it, so she elected to keep her thoughts to herself, and her tongue on a very short leash, until they reached the sanctuary of the Vale.

  Hydona said
nothing more.

  The gryphons left them once they were well within the "safe" area that was kept under close watch by the mages, and full of alarms that would be tripped by strangers. By the time they arrived at the shielded entrance to the Vale it was already dark, and her temper had cooled considerably. Not that she had changed her mind about anything she'd said, but she wasn't quite so ready to bite off someone's head over it.

  One thing had calmed her down a bit; she discovered that Gwena felt the same as she did-at least about Ancar. The Companion was of two minds about Darkwind warning the Changechild, admitting that there were good reasons for either decision, whether to warn or not-but on the subject of Ancar of Hardorn, Gwena was in full accord with her Chosen. the man is a mad dog," she told Elspeth flatly. "You don't give a mad dog a chance to bite you, and you don't try and cure it. You get rid of it, before it destroys something you love." That backing of her own thoughts on the matter made her feel a bit more secure about her own judgment, and that Gwena shared her anger eased her own somewhat. That helped her temper to cool a lot faster.