much less that he holds Dawnfire.'
'Damn,' she said, with a frown. 'I'd forgotten that. Well, what about that daughter of his, Nyara? Can she be useful?' Now that was a thought. Treyvan rose, anticipating his next words.
'I sssshall wake herrr,' the gryphon said, folding his wings to fit more easily through the door of the lair. 'We ssshall sssee if ssshe isss rrready to be morrre frrriend than enemy, asss ssshe claimsss.
Darkwind nodded, grimly. Now was the time for Nyara to show her true allegiances. There was a great deal about her father and her father's stronghold and abilities that she could tell them, if she chose. And-just perhaps- some of his weaknesses.
And if she did not choose to help them-well, she would see the Vale after all, as she had often wished. From inside, as he turned her over to the Adepts to be judged. He wondered what they would think of the creature that had eaten Starblade's bondbird before his eyes. No matter how extenuating the circumstances, he did not think they would be inclined to kindness.
Dawnfire stood on her squeaking mouse, killed it messily, and leaned down to pick it up head-first. She started swallowing it whole, trying her best not to think about what she was doing.
At least I'm not like a poor, stupid eyas that doesn't know which end to start on, she thought unhappily. At least I know enough to kill the things before I try to eat them. And I knew how to kill them in theory, if not in practice.
In fact, she had learned a lot more than she was displaying. She blessed the many times she'd spent in full- bond with Kyrr, and blessed Kyrr's memory for the way the hawk had shared every experience with her.
No, she was not a bird-but she had the memories of what it had been like to be a raptor, and once she had overcome her initial despair, those memories had helped her learn the ways of her new body.
They did not help her overcome her fear.
Fear of Falconsbane was only part of it. There was another fear, a constant fear that never left her, waking or sleeping. She knew what would happen as she remained in Kyrr's body-the longer she remained, the more of herself she would lose, until there was nothing left but the hawk. The fact that she had adapted to the body so quickly was both bad as well as good. The more comfortable she felt, the easier it would be to lose herself.
She tried to hold onto herself, with utter desperation. She tried to remember everything about the scouts, the Vale, Darkwind-and she panicked when she found herself in the midst of a memory and could not remember a face, a name, a setting. Was it just that these things had slipped her mind-or was it that her mind was slipping? There was no way to know.
And what had happened to her body, back in the Vale? What if Falconsbane had killed that along with Kyrr's soul? What would she do then?
The past two days had felt like two months. Time stretched out unbearablyand there was nothing to distract her from fear and brooding.
When those thoughts drove her into a state of frenzy, there was only one way to break the cycle. She plotted her escape. She had been taken outside enough times on a creance to know all the places where escape might be possible. If she could get away-no, when she got away, she would not think 'if'-she would head straight up, as high as a redshouldered could go. From there, she would have an unparalleled view of the countryside; her scouting experience would tell her where she was.
If she didn't recognize anything, she would circle until she did see a landmark she knew. And Falconsbane shouldn't be able to touch her.
Planning kept her sane; planning and practice.
When Falconsbane was not in the room, she practiced, as she had seen the fledglings practice; flapping until she lifted herself just above the perch; hopping down the length of her jesses and flying back to her perch. When she had to kill her food, she did so with a clumsiness that was feigned more and more often. She took out her anger on the hapless mice, ripping them with talons and beak after she had killed them.
Though it was still all she could do to force herself to eat the mice afterward.
Falconsbane was not paying a great deal of attention to her, but she continued the charade, lurching clumsily up to the perch and taking a long time to get settled. She watched him carefully as she cleaned her talons and beak. He'd been very preoccupied today; and he had evidently forgotten, if he had ever known, just how wide a field of vision a raptor had. She could watch him easily without ever seeming to pay attention to him.
He had been staring at the scrying stone; no longer relaxed, and no longer so infernally pleased with himself. She had finally decided that the scrying stone wouldn't work anywhere except this room; certainly he never took it with him, and there was nothing else here but her perch, his couch, the cabinets he kept his toys of pain and pleasure in, and the stone. For the past two days he had spent more and more time here; watching the stone, and getting very intent about something. She overheard him muttering to himself; evidently he had also forgotten how sharp a raptor's hearing was.
