Owlflight

around her index finger as she paused for a thought. “In fact, he’s very likely to act and talk as if the whole town is still intact, so don’t correct him.”

“I won’t. You say in his deeper thoughts he’s still going to be aware of what happened, though?” At her nod, he sighed, and gazed out over the pool for a moment, collecting his thoughts. If he’s got it in his deeper memories, those are what usually come out in dreams. “Well, we could be looking at some interrupted nights, if he starts having nightmares.”

“If he does, we’ll move him into the Bower, and I’ll deal with it. He’ll very likely have them, and in some ways that would be good; if he does, they will mean he’s absorbing and coming to terms with the experience on the deeper level.” She didn’t seem at all adverse to having the boy in the “Bower,” the half-cave in the rocky cliff where she had built isolated facilities for those who were sick or injured. Well, if she didn’t mind having her sleep disturbed, Snowfire was not going to try to argue her out of it.

So he shrugged. “Once again - you are the expert; I am not. And much as I enjoy your company, I have a scout’s meeting to gather - “

“So go gather it.” She paused, resting a hand against the side of his face and making him look deeply into her eyes so he could not miss her sincerity and her regret. “Kechara, if I didn’t have to balance a potentially dangerous, even explosive situation against this boy’s needs, I wouldn’t have made the decisions I have. But if I didn’t also have his welfare in mind, I would have told you to pack him up and send him off with Wintersky and a couple of dyheli to the nearest large settlement. I think that for now at least, he will be better treated among us. Now, I must be off, too, so go find your scouts.”

They parted, with Snowfire feeling a little better about Darian’s welfare than he had been. When it came right down to it, the boy could not be in better hands.

It’s been a long day, Snowfire thought, as he laced up his climbing boots by the light of the fire. And it’s going to be a long night.

Darian was safely asleep, and so, most probably, were the current inhabitants of Errold’s Grove. It was time for that little scouting run.

Little? Not so little. I’ve never run a sortie against an army before. But it’s not as if I don’t have the experience to carry it off. Snowfire had been an active scout since he was a mere fourteen winters old, although he hadn’t been permitted in the field against human intruders for the first four years. So how much different can they be, I wonder, than a large bandit gang?

Across the fire from him, Nightwind was getting Kelvren ready. Kelvren’s eyes pinned with excitement, the pupils contracting to a mere nothing, then widening until there was nothing showing but pupil, then contracting again. In the firelight, the effect was particularly striking; his eyes looked as if they were flashing with a gilded light as his golden irises appeared and disappeared. Nightwind calmly tightened his harness at all points, checking his gear, making certain that the amplifying metal lacework-headband of the teleson set was properly in place under the feathers on his head, and that it wasn’t going to distract him in any way. Kelvren’s Mindspeech wasn’t particularly strong, and this little bit of metal filigree that looked so much like one of his favorite ornaments would help him reach Snowfire without effort.

Snowfire was already outfitted for a nighttime sortie; his costume of soft blacks and grays was much like his daylight scouting gear except for color - or rather, lack of it. He had streaked his face with random stripes of black- and-gray paint, and before he braided it, he had dusted his hair with a charcoal-colored powder that would cling until washed out. He wore black gloves and soft, black boots made for climbing; his climbing staff was in its sheath on his back and his throwing-darts in a bandoleer across his chest. There was a knife at his belt and another in each boot, thin and incredibly strong rope with a grappling hook coiled in one pouch at his side, a strangling-wire in another, and a darker version of his leather arm-guard strapped in place over his clothing for Hweel to land on in case he needed to. He probably wouldn’t; Snowfire intended to be up in the tree-tops, and there should be plenty of places for Hweel to land without choosing his arm.

A small herd of three dyheli waiting patiently at his elbow would carry him as far as the clearing where he’d discovered Darian, or farther if it seemed safe; that way he would leave no footprints. A herd of animals would leave tracks that were much less suspicious than a single animal. The plan called for the dyheli to wait for him at the clearing until he returned. Kel, of course, would fly, leaving no tracks at all.

“Think you’re ready for this?” Nightwind whispered as she passed him, crossing to Kel’s left side to continue her checks. He winked; he knew what she meant. He had made night sorties as a scout countless times, but this was Kelvren’s first “offensive act of war.” That was why the young gryphon was so excited; he was about to prove his mettle, and he could hardly wait to get into the air. Hweel, by contrast, was so utterly calm he seemed bored.

Kel was as well-trained as any Silver Gryphon ever turned out by the Kaled’a’in, and since Nightwind seemed completely confident in his abilities, Snowfire was prepared to be just as confident. After all, she had been a Silver for several years before Kel even began his training; she’d seen a great many gryphons wear that stylized badge, and she had once said that the Silver Gryphons had ways of weeding out the unsuitable a long time before they ever put on the badge and harness of a full Silver.

Nevertheless, Snowfire hoped that Kelvren wouldn’t wear himself out with excitement before they ever got to Errold’s Grove.

Snowfire gave his own equipment one last check, swung himself up onto the back of Sifyra, and turned to Kel. “Ready, partner?” he asked.

The gryphon gave a quick, eager nod. “Rrrready!” he replied. Waiting none too patiently for Snowfire’s hand