Page 61 of Gryphon in Light

“I expect, once these new gryphons have settled, that Ayshen will come look for us. You’ll probably be wanted to help pack the barges. And Ayshen will probably want me to talk to the new gryphons and Kel and the Hawkbrothers and Ghost Cat fighters and work out how we’re going to conduct ourselves. Or rather,” he added, “we’ll all be talking to the new gryphons to figure out how to work them into our tactics. They’re bigger than Kel, which probably means they don’t fight like he does.” He rubbed the back of his head, as messenger birds started zinging past at top speed, showing that the rest of the Vale had already taken the urgency of the situation seriously. Someone had lit the time-candle now, and the wick was burning. “Right now, though, unless someone tells us differently, we go back to what we were doing before these gryphons turned up.”

“Then I’ll go back to Nightwind and Skysong,” she said. “And we were actually loading the Healing and trondi’irn supplies into our barge, so that isn’t going to change.” She kissed him and gave him a brief embrace, which he returned, and then she vanished off down one of the side paths.

“I should go see to Uglik, Kandor, and Rina,” he said aloud. The gods only knew what the Ghost Cat warriors were going to think of this business. They certainly would never have seen anything the size of the Iftel gryphons. Hell, I haven’t seen anything that size that can talk before. I haven’t seen anything that size that wasn’t a building!

He devoutly hoped that the three Clansfolk hadn’t been spooked by Ransem’s broadcast. The three Ghost Cat Clansfolk coming with on the quest were housed in the Guest Lodge, although as long as the sun was shining, they were rarely in there, preferring to spend every waking moment practicing their fighting moves. Plenty of other Vale denizens were happy to practice alongside them. Silverfox had selected them: two brothers and a sister. The chief had confided to Hallock that this was partly because the three had always fought together as a unit, but also he had only suggested volunteers who were siblings to prevent any “foolishness.” That could have had a multitude of meanings, and Hallock was disinclined to ask exactly what the chief meant. He had no idea what the Northern Clans did and thought about mating and marriage, and right now he wasn’t all that keen on finding out.

As he had expected, he found the three Clansfolk at the practice field, although no one was practicing right now, since people were far more interested in the news than in what they’d been planning on doing today. All six of the Hawkbrothers who were coming on this journey were there as well, and the murmur of excited conversation met his ears long before he turned the corner that brought the field into view. The Vale could be very disorienting for the unprepared, because every possible effort had been taken to keep the place looking like a semi-tamed forest. Vegetation grew everywhere that wasn’t a path, with plenty of buildings screened by vines that grew all over their walls, and paths had been deliberately constructed to twist and turn to cut line of sight to a minimum. This wasn’t just for privacy; if a Vale was ever invaded, the invaders would have a hell of a time figuring out where they were and where they were going, while the inhabitants could fire on them from every possible angle and every sort of cover.

But the weapons-practice ground was one of the few large clearings. Unlike similar grounds at Guard posts, it did not have a fence around it, and rather than being sand or sawdust, the ground was covered with a tough moss that could take endless abuse, and which nothing seemed to find tasty. Otherwise, it looked like any other practice ground: extra weapons in a pile to one side, archery targets ranged along another, and a cluster of fighters talking excitedly in the middle.

“Hallock!” shouted Rina, who spotted him first. “When we leave, hey?”

“Aye!” crowed her elder brother Uglik. “When! Gods call, we must answer!”

Kandor just nodded, but it was clear he was of the same opinion. All three of the Ghost Cat fighters were right out of the same mold: strong, tall, very muscular, very blond, long-haired, and good-natured. They seldom wore their leathers and furs here, since they spent most of their time in the Vale where there was no “weather” to speak of, when they weren’t out with a hunting party. But at the moment they were wearing the full sets of armor, a combination of leather and metal, that the Tayledras had made for them.

The six Hawkbrothers—Icestorm, Redlance, Sharpsight, Blackclaw, Swiftfoot, and Longsight—nodded in complete agreement. In appearance they were as varied as their names, ranging from the very tall (Redlance) to the very short (Longsight), and from deeply tanned to the color of brain-tanned buckskin, but all shared the Hawkbrother aquiline features and pale gray eyes. And shared the white-streaked or completely white hair of Hawkbrothers who worked at least partly with mage energies and did not trouble to dye their hair in patterns of brown and green to match the forest, nor back to its natural black. All of them were warrior-mages; their magic was limited to what was useful for combat and scouting, but their limited skills were as sharply honed as their combat abilities.

They were all holding or leaning on Hawkbrother climbing-sticks. It was obvious that, before the Iftel gryphons arrived, the Tyaledras had been cross-training the Ghost Cat fighters in the use of climbing-sticks as combat weapons. Hallock was not worried about the Clansfolk keeping up; the Ghost Cat folk had a version of stick combat based on their spears, and he figured they could hold their own with anyone.

“Don’t know yet,” he said, joining them in the center of the field. “But it’ll be soon. Less than a sennight, I reckon, may be just days. Start making your goodbyes, and get any business wrapped up. It doesn’t pay to fiddle-faddle around when gods are concerned. You don’t want a god impatient with you.”

“Noooooo,” agreed Uglik. “Impatient become angry, even in God.”

Redlance rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I wish—” he began, when all three of the Ghost Clan members, Hallock, and two of his own folk interrupted him with a shouted “Don’t!”

Dead silence surrounded that outburst. Even the birds stopped chirping.

“The gods have their eyes on us, you fool!” scolded Icestorm, her eyes flashing. “Don’t wish when gods are watching. That’s asking for trouble, and you’re likely to get what you wish for in the worst way possible.”

:Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. They’re not unreasonable tyrants, you know,: said a completely unfamiliar Mindvoice. And from the way all of them jumped—including Hallock—they had all heard it.

A dyheli? What else can speak to a lot of people at once? But why would a dyheli have said that with such utter confidence?

Hallock was the first to recover his wits and look around. “Who is that?” he demanded, suspecting one of the dyheli from the bachelor-herd led by Ransem, but seeing nothing like a set of horns anywhere. “Where are you?” Dyheli could hide themselves in undergrowth so thoroughly that only an expert could spot them, but he didn’t see anything like even a horn-tip peeking up from the brushes around the grounds.

:Down,: said the Mindvoice.

“What?”

:Look down,: the Mindvoice repeated. :I’m practically at your feet.:

He did, and all he saw was a cat.

Now, there were cats in the Vale. Very, very well-behaved cats that knew better than to try to make a meal out of any of the many birds here. Most of them were the common tabby sort, some big and long-haired, some lean and sleek, with a scattering of black voids that blended with the shadows and had the habit of doing things to startle passersby. Hallock did not consider himself a cat fancier, although he admitted they were elegant and useful, so normally he couldn’t have told one from the other. He’d found them napping on his bed from time to time, but he couldn’t have told if it was the same one or a different one each time.

This cat, however, was different. Very different.

It had long white hair, except for its mask, paws, ears, and tail, which were a pleasant brick color. And it had very, very blue eyes. Blue eyes that reminded him disconcertingly of a Companion. There was the same intelligence there, and the same alert interest in everything going on around it.

As he stared at it, it sat down and curled its tail around its body. :Thank you for the compliments. I’m Serenshey. I’m what’s called a “Firecat.” A bit like a Companion, but with a closer connection to the Sunlord than the Companions have with the Valdemaran gods. Obviously the constraints the gods placed on themselves prevent them from helping you directly, but Vykaendys sent me to assist indirectly.:

Hallock’s jaw sagged with astonishment.

Obviously? There’s nothing obvious—

“Spirit Cat!” bellowed Uglik, interrupting his thoughts. The Ghost Cat warrior scooped Serenshey up and held the cat over his head like a trophy or a holy object. “Behold! Spirit Cat, my brothers and sisters! We shall be mighty and blessed, for we have Spirit Cat to guide us!”