Page 32 of Gryphon in Light

“I had my fill of beetles in my feathers in Deedun, thank you,” Kel said, shivering a little.

“And here, if you can’t get warm enough with the fire, are gryphon-blankets. And last of all, see that chain that runs from the ceiling down to the floor?”

Kel nodded; it was not hard to see. It looked light, but strong, and he hadn’t been able to figure out its function. It was much too light to suspend much, and very much too light to serve as an aid to get him to his feet, if that was what it was intended to be.

“That goes to a bell on the roof. If you start to feel sick—if you start to feel things changing about yourself—if you are worried about anything, pull it.” He held up a taloned hand. “Now, I do intend to make sure there’s someone here with you if that’s what you want. But in case you want some silence and solitude . . . that’s why the bell is there.”

Kel had thought he’d had more than enough solitude in that wretched canvas excuse for a tent in Deedun, but as Firesong had drummed into him, instead of responding that he wanted someone right there at all times, he thought about it.

If it was Ayshen . . . but a hertasi I don’t know? He knew Ayshen’s breathing patterns, how he moved, and as quiet as hertasi were, they still made some sound when they moved. Would the sounds of a stranger moving about the tent be disturbing? Startle him out of sleep?

And on the other talon . . . What if he had a nightmare? What if he did something with all this stored power out of sheer reflex?

“I don’t want to be responsible for setting anything other than the tent on fire if I have a bad dream,” he said aloud, and ducked his head a little. “It is a consideration.”

“It is,” Ayshen agreed. “Are you all right with sleeping unattended?”

“I think so.” He nodded. “At least it’s quiet.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it.” Ayshen went around the tent and blew out all the oil lamps but one, and on that one, he shortened the wick. “Remember: sandpit to the rear, path to the front. Three steps down to the ground either way. Goodnight, Kel.”

“Goodnight, Ayshen,” he said to the tail just slipping through the door flap. He put his head down on the floor again, considered his position, adjusted it a little, and closed his eyes.

It was well after midnight, but not so late that Silverfox was quite ready to track Firesong down and herd him back to bed, when he heard his heartmate coming up the steps to the sleeping room. As always, he listened intently; there was a lot he could deduce from how those footsteps sounded.

As he waited for Firesong to make it up the stairs, he looked around the room and sighed. They’d just finished the expansion of their ekele. This chamber had been long in the planning, with many little secrets not obvious to anyone who might stumble in here. And it was quite luxurious: woven wicker walls to let the breeze through with drop-down quilted covers for privacy and sound-baffling, a bed big enough for four with a mattress he himself had designed with a firm pine-needle core and a thick down outer layer, specifically to cushion someone with aching joints and back. And pillows. Many, many pillows. The whole room had been done in warm shades of gold and golden brown. Mage-lights shaded with brown and gold-colored glass cast enough light to read by, but not so much that the eyes grew the least tired when reading.

He’d planned out this room in his mind the entire time they’d been traveling back from the Dhorisha Plains. He’d hoped they would never have to leave k’Valdemar Vale again.

Hopes dashed. But we can’t abandon Kel. Still, he sighed. Well, we’ll just have to make the most of it until the expedition leaves.

“Save your glare, I haven’t been doing anything but talking and observing,” Firesong said as he entered the bedroom. He turned, hung his mask on the wall, and slipped off his outer robe before reclining next to his partner. “Every time I start to think gryphons are simple creatures, Kel says or does something that makes me realize I’m the one that’s simple, making broad assumptions like that.”

“Sounds like it went well,” he observed. “Which is not a given, with a gryphon. They are very passionate creatures.”

He raised an eyebrow and Firesong answered the invitation by fitting himself into Silverfox’s side, laying his head down on his partner’s shoulder.

“It went better than I expected. I thought I would have to argue him out of making a fast trip of it, but he actually lay there and thought about it, and finally agreed with me.” Firesong reached for a strand of Siverfox’s hair with a narrow and graceful hand, and absently entwined it with one of his own. “It’s the lay there and thought about it that is the surprising part. And he continued to do that the whole time we were talking. By the way, Ayshen was absolutely correct in sending him outside the Veil for now. I think he is likely to drain the magic out of any object that is a source of concentrated power that he gets too near.”

“Well, that’s not alarming at all,” Silverfox said with mild sarcasm.

Firesong coughed. “Yes, well, I am sure Ayshen is not going to be backward in telling me I told you so. He enjoys being right much too much. At any rate, kechara, Kel actually listened to me when I told him he was going to have to think over every move he makes, and watch what is going on with the energies when he does do anything. He seems a great deal calmer, although I suspect that is a matter of deliberate control rather than actually being calm.”

Silverfox shrugged slightly. “Does it matter which it is now? The more he practices calm, the less effort it will be.”

“So pragmatic.” Firesong yawned. “He seems safe enough for now, and I am mentally exhausted from trying to analyze him, but make no mistake, fixing him to a point where everything is functional and stable is going to be as much work as making a Heartstone. In fact—” he chuckled—“it’s going to involve making a Heartstone.”

Silverfox bit his lip. “Then I will have to consult with Ayshen about the arrangements,” he replied, his tone one that said he was not going to take any arguments. “Because if you are going to be working with energies that powerful, you’re going to need to be—”

“Yes, yes, I know. And I am tired now, and I will have to begin this work first thing in the morning.” Firesong ran a finger along Silverfox’s cheek to take any sting out of his words.

“Well, if you are that tired . . .” Silverfox let his voice trail off.

“Aren’t you supposed to be keeping me at my peak?” Firesong teased.

“Always,” the kestra’chern replied. And then he did not bother with words.

Hallock Stavern finished his rounds of the much-improved camp with his usual visit to the “gimp tent.” From two wagon-lengths away he heard the soldiers in the tent, even over the sound of the rain, and not in a bad way. People were singing a work chant, and while it was not the sort of full-throated bellow it would have been if they were moving rocks or buckets of sand or water, the cheerful, slightly out-of-tune chorus lifted his spirits.