Oh, thanks. Now of course I understand. I understand why a hawk is flaming brighter than any firebird; I understand why Darkwind looks as if he's at an execution. what in Havens is going on?
Gwena looked at her as if the Companion had red those thoughts. 'It's business,' she said shortly, .And not ours.' And I suppose that's going to tell me everything.
Darkwind's eyes streamed tears, and she longed to comfort him, but she sensed she dared not; not at this moment, anyway.
The light was dying now, along with the humming, as she looked back toward the circle of Shin'a'in.
The bird on the female fighter's fist was no longer a red-shouldered hawk; it was a vorcel-hawk, the emblem of the Shin'a'in Clan Tale'sedrin, and the largest such bird Elspeth had ever seen. The light had dimmed in the bird's feathers, but it had not entirely died, and there was an other-worldly quality about the hawk's eyes that made her start with surprise.
Then she recognized it; the same look as the female fighter's. There were neither whites nor pupils to the woman's eyes, nor to the bird's-only a darkness, sprinkled with sparks of light, as if, rather than eyes, Elspeth looked upon fields of stars.
That was when she remembered where she had heard of such a thing.
The Chronicles-Roald's description of the Shin'a'in Goddess.
Her mouth dried in an instant, and her heart pounded. If she was right-this was a Goddess-And Dawnfire was now Her chosen avatar.
And at that moment, she found she couldn't move. She was frozen in place, as a string of bridleless black horses filed into the clear area, led by no one, each going to a Shin'a'in and waiting.
The Shin'a'in mounted up, quite literally as one, and rode out in single file; the woman and the hawk last, heading for the path that wound around the ruins and led down into the Plains. Those two paused for just a moment, black silhouettes against the red-gold sky, sunlight streaming around them, as they looked back.
Darkwind uttered an inarticulate moan. It might have been Dawnfire's name; it might not.
Then they were gone.
Sunset did not bring darkness; Darkwind and Treyvan used their magecraft to kindle a couple of mage-lights apiece, and they all crowded into the lair. Right now, no one wanted to face the night shadows.
Darkwind looks as if he's lost. Not that I blame him. He and Dawnfire were... were close. whatever happened to her, I have the feeling she's pretty well gone from his life.
'Where's Nyara?' Skif said, struggling to sit up, the bandage around his head obscuring one eye.
'Right there.' Elspeth glanced at the niche among the stones by the door that Nyara had been occupying since the fight, Need on her lap, only to find her gone. And she didn't recall seeing the girl move.
Darkwind glanced up at the same time, on hearing Skif's voice; their eyes met across Nyara's now-empty resting place.
'I didn't see her leave,' Darkwind began.
'Nor did I,' Elspeth replied grimly. 'And she's got my sword.' What do you mean, your sword?' Need's mind- voice asked testily, the quality hollow and thin, as if crossing a bit of distance. Elspeth had started to get to her feet; she froze at the touch of the mind-voice, and a glance at Darkwind showed he had heard it, too.
'I'm not your sword, Elspeth, I'm not anybody's sword. I go to whom I choose. And frankly, child, you don't require my services anymore. You're a fine fighter; a natural, in fact. You're going to be a better mage than I am.
And you are ridiculously healthy in mind and body. Nyara, on the other hand... A feeling of pity crept into the sword's tone. 'Let's just say she's a challenge to any Healer. And if she's not going to fall back into her father's hands, I figured I'd better take an interest in her. she needs me more than you ever would.' The mind-voice began to fade. 'Fare well, child. We'll see you again, I think.' Then it was gone.
Elspeth stared at Darkwind with a mingled feeling of relief and annoyance.
At least this meant there was one less thing to fight, but she'd gotten used to having the blade around to depend on.
