Page 71 of Gryphon in Light

He had to laugh at that, which made Genni look at him as if she wasn’t sure what to think. “Jak just told me he made off with fodder last night so he could have ‘breakfast in bed’ this morning,” he told her.

She smiled then, and combed some of her unruly hair behind her ears with her fingers. “I can’t say that I blame him,” she agreed. “I’d rather not go out there right now. But I will, because I’m the only one that knows where the willowbark is, and you aren’t the only one who needs willowbark tea this morning.”

True to her word, she unwound herself from the bedclothes, the warm rock, and her husband, and jumped down out of the bunk. Since there was only room for one person at a time to give themselves a sketchy bath with a cloth and get dressed, he stayed where he was. I’ll get a rain-bath later. But I’m going to want a warm rock waiting for me when I do.

They shared the barge with eight hertasi in two bunks, Nightwind and Snowfire sharing one, the tervardi in one, and an empty bunk in case someone was too sick to be left alone and needed to be looked after. Putting a sick or injured person in the same barge as the trondi’irn and the Healer’s Hand made the most sense.

The rest of the humans and hertasi were spread across the other two barges, and in theory there was some room to squeeze in the kyree at a pinch. If the weather really got miserable, the canvas wings could be made into one side of a tent by pegging them to the ground, and the dyheli and the Companion could have pretty good shelter under that. The “mated pairs” (except for Firesong and Silverfox) were in this barge because it was wider than the other two, and the bunks were just big enough for two—provided you weren’t used to big, luxurious beds.

Big, luxurious beds . . . not that we’ve had those much. The only times Hallock and Genni had shared a big, luxurious bed had been when they stayed in Siverfox’s guest rooms.

“Stay where you are until I can bring you your tea!” she said cheerfully, then made her way to the front entrance—quietly, since she’d been given a pair of Tayledras soft leather boots before they left on this quest. A moment later, and it was the turn of Nightwind and Snowfire to pry themselves out of bed, get dressed, and get to work. Nightwind went straight out after Genni, but Hallock caught Snowfire’s shoulder before he got past.

“What do you make of these . . . whatever-they-ares that are lurking out there?” he asked the Hawkbrother. “You’ve been in the Pelagirs all your life. The first time I saw anything uncanny was during the Storms, and then not much. I wasn’t even in a place where I saw the demons that Ancar conjured up to fight Valdemar.”

Snowfire didn’t look annoyed at being rudely grabbed, and leaned against the bunk to talk to him. “I’m not happy,” he admitted, flicking a braid of hair over his shoulder. “The Pelagirs always have had a habit of throwing weirdling things at you, and the Mage Storms made it worse. And, if that’s not bad enough, the closer we get to the Lake, the closer we are to what was actually in Ma’ar’s territory. Not just the lands that he annexed, but the ones central to his power.”

“And that’s bad?” Hallock ventured, parking his chin on his arms draped on the edge of the bunk. “We don’t know much about the Mage Wars in Valdemar, only that they happened and it was bad, and what we’ve learned from you Tayledras.”

“Not just bad. They were very bad,” Snowfire told him. “Remember, with Urtho and Ma’ar, you are talking about mages with a level of power that’s not far removed from a god’s. They could literally create living, breathing creatures. Urtho created the gryphons, the tervardi, and possibly the hertasi. And maybe more; we don’t know, and if what he created had too small a population when he died, there wouldn’t be any of them left now. But Urtho was careful with his creations. He kept them confined to his tower until he was sure of them, and only released them when he was certain they were stable in body and mind. Ma’ar wasn’t. So if he lost interest in a project, or it didn’t work out the way he wanted it to, he just booted the creatures out to fend for themselves. And there were enough breeders to keep some populations going. There’s a kind of giant spider out here that doesn’t need a male to fertilize it, and thank the gods it’s friendly, because . . . well, giant poisonous spiders are not the sort of thing you want wandering into a town full of prey-sized people. There have been other nasty creatures, too, some of which we knew nothing about until we ran into them. So I would not be in the least surprised to learn that what’s been chasing around our camp is something Ma’ar cooked up a thousand years ago, nor would I be the least surprised to learn the Storms or the Circles have played merry hell with them until they no longer resemble what Ma’ar set loose. They could be worse.”

That was more out of Snowfire than Hallock had ever gotten before; clearly Snowfire knew his history, and seemed to be pretty passionate about it.

And that made Hallock, the “military advisor,” more than a bit worried.

“I’m as eager to get to the Lake as any of us,” he said, as Snowfire made no move to leave and in fact seemed to be interested in what he was about to say. “But I’m not altogether certain that moving on today is a good idea.”

Snowfire nodded, which seemed encouraging. “Say on.”

“What if these things follow us? What if they know the terrain becomes a channeling trap up ahead? I mean, I do understand we know nothing about them and they might be benign, but I’m your advisor, and my job is to assume the worst.” He took a deep breath when Snowfire didn’t appear to object to anything he’d said so far.

There was a long silence, punctuated by the sounds of hungry people getting bowls full of soup. The savory aroma made Hallock’s stomach growl.

“Well . . . Nightwind will tell you that I have that same attitude,” the Hawkbrother admitted, his white brows furrowed. “And I agree with you. We’re not in a bad spot for spending a couple of days. This place isn’t going to flood. We found that nice little spring-fed stream last night, there’s browse for the hooved ones, and there seems to be plenty of game. We’re in a good position if the rainstorms get worse, and what we have now is as defensible as you can get without having some stone at your back. So. If you’re looking for advice, and it sounds like you are, then mine is that you need to go to Silverfox and suggest we stay here until we know more about these things.”

“So I’m not seeing shadows where there aren’t any—”

“Just because you see shadows, it doesn’t follow that the shadows aren’t there, and full of beasts with sharp teeth to bite you,” Snowfire agreed, then raised his head. “And here comes your tea. I’ll go chase down mine. If you like, we can both talk to Silverfox once we’ve eaten.”

“I’d like that, very much,” he said, relieved, because the truth of the matter was, he was no little intimidated by all the Tayledras. Their reputations had very much preceded them, and they were unnerving. Strong, skilled fighters, and magicians, and walked around with big, intimidating birds of prey as if they were no more dangerous than lapdogs. That last might have been their most alarming aspect . . .

“Here’s your tea,” said Genni, with a smile for Snowfire as he squeezed past her. “I’m glad you’re finally making friends. What are you two going to go to Silverfox about?”

“Staying here a night or two, until we figure out what the things Jak and I didn’t quite see actually are,” he told her, taking the wooden mug of tea, blowing on it, and taking a cautious sip.

She made a face. “I’d really rather get out of this rain . . .”

“We’re in for at least a couple days more of it,” he reminded her. “Moving on isn’t going to get us out from under it. Everyone who knows anything about it says it goes from here all the way to the Lake.”

“And you can’t see much in it.” She nodded, pulled her braid to the front of her shoulder, and toyed with the end of it. “Maybe it would be a lot better to stay here and do whatever we can to make the camp more secure, since we know something is out there and we don’t know what it is.” She took his mug as soon as he had drained the last bitter drops. “I need to go help Ayshen. Let me know what happens.”

By the time he got outside to collect his morning soup, it appeared that Snowfire had already had words with a lot of the others, because no one was hurrying, and no one was getting the dyheli into harness. He nodded at Snowfire from across the clearing, and received an answering nod and a jerk of the head toward Silverfox’s barge. That was more than enough to get him to drink down the last of his soup, stuff the flatbread that went with it in his mouth, and join Snowfire.

He’d more than halfway expected Silverfox and Firesong to still be asleep, but both were up and dressed and perched on a couple of storage bags in the front of the barge when they got there. It appeared they had just finished their own breakfast, by the empty wooden mugs and bowls.

“Ah, Hallock,” Firesong said, when they’d come inside. “Come to advise militarily?” He grinned a little at his own cleverness, but he also looked worried. “I hope you’re as concerned about the—”

“The things that aren’t there, but are,” Hallock interrupted him. “Yes, I am very much concerned, particularly after what Snowfire had to say about this part of the world. It sounds as if it’s perfectly normal for these parts to spawn not just impossible things, but impossible hostile things.”