Storm Warning

'Heh. I distinctly heard a tone of 'It would have to be stronger than it looks,' Karal. There's magic in the making of it,' Darkwind continued blithely, as if they weren't out to investigate the effects of the failure of magic! 'Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Treyvan told me that k'Leshya use carry-nets like this all the time, that they're as safe as the floating barges.'

As if I knew what a 'k'Leshya' is. Or a floating barge, for that matter. He looked the 'net' over dubiously; each end of the rope sling was meant to fasten to a harness worn by each gryphon, and the basket in the middle was evidently supposed to supply more stability to the rider than he would get from the kind of hammock this resembled.

The rope was a lot stronger than its light weight suggested, and Karal discovered when he tried to tilt the basket while it was still sitting on the ground that it resisted all of his attempts to turn it over, even though he could lift it straight up quite easily. So, there was a great deal more to this contraption than met the eye!

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all. But still, flying?

'The gryphons will be along in a moment,' Darkwind said, glancing up at the angle of the sun. 'I need to start my own search pattern with Vree, Firesong, and Aya, so I'll leave you here to wait for them.'

'Wait a moment.' Karal hesitated, then asked the question he'd had on his mind anyway. 'If what they need is someone to record what they see, why do they need me? They have perfectly good memories.'

'But no hands,' Darkwind reminded him. 'They read, but they can't write or draw—not easily, at any rate. That lets Rris out as well—I promise you, he was terribly disappointed. He wanted a ride through the air very badly; he said he would be the first of his clan to do such a thing, which would mean he would finally do something famous-cousin-Warrl hadn't!' The Tayledras mage smiled, and clapped Karal on the back. 'Don't worry. After a few moments, you'll be glad they asked you to come. You'll do very well indeed.'

Karal could not imagine what it was about him that prompted such assurance on Darkwind's part, but he nodded bravely.

A few moments after Darkwind's departure, Hydona appeared from inside the Palace, wearing her harness. It was a sturdy affair of leather and brass, and it looked a lot more substantial than the basket. The gryphon clacked her beak in greeting to him once she was within earshot, and sauntered over to stand beside him.

'If you would fasssten that clip herrre—' she said to him, indicating what he should do with a touch of her talon. 'And that one herrre—' She nodded with approval as he engaged the two fasteners. 'That isss good. When Trrreyvan comesss, do the sssame on hisss harrrnesss.' She cocked her head to one side and studied him for a moment, then added, 'If it isss any help, I have carrried my little onesss in thisss verrry net. They may be fledged, but they arrre not trrruly flighted, yet. They tend to plummet.'

If she trusted her precious gryphlets in this— Hydona's maternal qualities were one of the first things anyone mentioned about her. She wouldn't risk her little ones. Relief made him relax, and he managed a tentative smile.

How had she read his expression so accurately? And how had she guessed the very thing that would make him feel that the net was flightworthy? 'Thank you, my lady,' he replied humbly. 'It does help. I have never flown before.'

With that, she chuckled. 'I would be verrry sssurrrprrrisssed if you had,' she rumbled smoothly. 'But I think you will enjoy it.'

Treyvan appeared from above, backwinging gracefully to a landing beside the two of them. 'I have been aloft, and therrre isss a patterrrn, I think,' he said cheerfully. 'Ssso—let usss sssee if I am brrrilliant, or deluded!' Caught up in his excitement, which radiated from him like warm sunshine, Karal snapped the hooks of the other side of the net onto the male gryphon's harness, and got into the basket, suddenly eager to be off. He arranged his stylus and waxboard, and didn't even think about being afraid until they were several stories above the ground, skimming the treetops.

And at that point, he was too caught up in the incredible feeling of power and freedom to be frightened.

Like most people he knew, he'd had dreams of flying before, but it had never been like this. He was buffeted by wind from all directions—from the backwash of both gryphons' wings, and the maelstrom of their passage. They were moving much faster than the fastest horse he had ever ridden. He clung to the edge of the basket—which did not tip over, even when he dared to lean out to look straight down—and stared at the city below.

Was this how the gryphons always saw things? From this vantage, the city took on an entirely new look. Patterns emerged that he would not have seen from below. Now he could judge what houses were built about the same time from the way the roofs were constructed, for instance. Now he could tell that someone who had an otherwise impressive house might be either very careless or falling on hard times by the dilapidated state of what did not show from the street level. People in the poorer sections used every bit of space, too, which was not the case with those who were better off; roofs in the poorest parts of town held plants, vegetables grown in carefully-tended tubs of soil, and were strung with lines for hanging out wash. People gathered up there, women and children mostly, who gaped and pointed at him and the gryphons when they passed overhead. Children stopped in their games, and one woman even shrieked and flung her wet laundry over her head to hide.

A moment later, they were over a district of warehouses—and a moment after that, they were outside the