Page 60 of Gryphon in Light

“Really?” Her ear-tufts came up. “What do you hope to create?”

“A small Heartstone. A portable one. Something I can safely store my excess power in.” The more he considered this idea, the more excited he became about it. “In fact, this would be perfect for siphoning off some of it on a regular basis!”

“Even if you cannot make this ‘Heartstone’ work, we can still use Gates,” she replied, with a dip of her beak. “We will just have to save them only for times when going through a spot is too perilous—getting past dangerous areas or difficult land to traverse.”

“There isn’t much the floating barges can’t handle,” he said—and then he had to explain the floating barges to her, where they had come from, that any barge could be made to float, but these were special because they could be moved by a single person when empty, which meant that the bulk of what the dyheli would be pulling would be provisions and other needful things. That opened up the question of “why don’t the Valdemarans still make them?” which led to a slightly confused version of Valdemaran history as heard third-hand from Silverfox, who had heard it from Darian, who had heard it piecemeal from Heralds. And that, in turn, led to a lot more questions, most of which Kel was uncertain about. Which ended with, “And didn’t the Tayledras know all about Baron Valdemar’s people when they picked a place to settle?”

“Ah!” Kel replied, back on sure ground. “In fact, they did know a bit about them, enough to know that they could be trusted with the remains of a Vale. Silverfox says that the Tayledras have their own version of this story, but he hasn’t given it to me. We could always ask him to tell us on the journey. It would make very good fireside storytelling material, and Silverfox is a very good storyteller.”

“I expect there will be quite a few differences,” she mused thoughtfully.

“Probably. Oh, and I can ask Hallock to do the same, if he knows the Valdemaran stories. Or his mate Genni could, if she does. They could take it in turn to tell us all about it!”

But her ears flattened. “What if they take offense at each other’s stories, if they are so different?”

He snorted. “Not likely! Nothing rattles Silverfox, and Hallock is the same for different reasons.” He caught her drooping after that question, though, and remembered how far she and her Wing had flown, and that she probably needed to rest.

And oh, the quandary! It would definitely be too eager to offer for her to sleep here, even if it was just to doze for a while. He hadn’t even known she existed this morning! But a good host would give her the option, after all, and—

And he was still stuck in indecision when she yawned openly and stood up. “I should get back to my Wingmates,” she said. “There is much I need to tell them, but that may have to wait until we have all slept off our meals.”

Was there a hint of regret there?

“Of course! Do you—” he began, but Jylan appeared out of nowhere, as hertasi were inclined to do, and interrupted him.

“Wingleader Vindaria, I am here to show you to your guest quarters in Firesong’s ekele,” Jylan chirped.

“What of the Council?” Kel asked—figuring they were all still neck deep in discussing What This All Meant. And, just possibly, they were debating whether or not they needed to brace themselves and dare to petition the gods for a little clarification.

“Still talking,” Jylan replied. “They’ve called Silverfox to determine if all these extra gryphons mean we need another barge.”

“I think we need to leave as soon as we can, and not wait around for the loan of another barge!” Kel exclaimed. “The gods don’t just appear and tell you to do something ‘whenever you get around to it’! There is urgency here!” Even if just a few moments ago I was talking about storytelling . . .

But storytelling is important. People remember things better if they are in the form of a story. And she was pleasant to talk with.

“Don’t worry, Firesong is arguing that very point,” said Jylan, her tail swishing on the floor. “And since you and he were going to have to distance yourselves from the Vale to awaken that portable Heartstone he has been working on, he feels the sooner you get well on your way, the better!”

Finally he’s on my side! That was unfair, of course, but not entirely unwarranted. Kel strongly suspected that Firesong and Silverfox had been stalling him. He wasn’t entirely sure why they would have been doing that, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Yes,” Vindaria said simply. “We feel that is the case as well.” She got up and dipped her entire head to Kel. “Thank you, Kelvren. When we are rested, we will want to consult you on tactics, that we may prepare and practice. I am sure that the gryphons of Iftel and the gryphons of k’Valdemar have some significant differences in how we fight.”

Was there a faint hint of pity in her voice? Was it because he was so small compared to her? Suddenly he was very self-conscious, and Jylan’s little dance of impatience to show Vindaria the way was a welcome interruption. “Even so,” he agreed. “May your dreams be full of—” he almost said “skydancing,” but stopped himself just in time, “—good, peaceful rest.”

“Thank you.” Had she guessed what he was about to say? But she had already turned to follow Jylan back to the Vale.

As he watched her pace away—and there was genuine weariness in the way she walked—Ayshen somehow materialized beside him.

“You got on well,” the hertasi observed. “That bodes well for the journey.”

“Yes, it does,” he replied, still gazing after Daria. And sighed. “I am not used to pleasant surprises.”

Hallock and Genni only caught the tail end of the procession to the Council Chamber and initially were not invited inside it, having to stand outside with the rest of the residents and passively “listen” to Ransem’s broadcast. So they all faced the woven wicker walls of the chamber, watched the birds flitting among the vines that covered the walls, and “heard” the voices from inside, but as if they were all coming from somewhere between their ears. It was . . . disconcerting. It was not the first time Hallock had been on the receiving end of Mindspeech, but the experience didn’t get easier with repetition. And it was definitely a new experience for Genni, whose eyes grew very big and stayed that way the entire time that Ransem was relaying what was going on inside that chamber.

When Ransem stopped broadcasting, she shook her head to clear it, then looked around self-consciously, as the other denizens of the Vale began leaving to go back to whatever they had been doing before this surprise arrival. “What just happened?” she asked her husband in Valdemaran. “Was someone Mindspeaking to everyone at once? I didn’t know that was possible!”

He didn’t need to go into the obvious. “It was one of the deer-things—the dyheli. I didn’t know that they could do that, either.” He shook his head, but not to clear it. “Gods have gotten involved, Genni. That almost never happens. Worried gods, which is never a good thing. I think we’re probably going to be pulling out on this journey a lot faster than Firesong intended.”

She nodded soberly, and looked just as concerned as he felt. “I can see that. Is there anything I can do to help?”