Crossroads and Other Tales of Valdemar

ignore all that. Instead, we all converge on this mage-friend of Nanca’s and take him out. Once he’s down, the game is over. Right?”

“Right!” Nanca pounded a fist into her cupped hand with delight. “And that is the last thing he is going to expect, because we’ve been doing the opposite of that until now. The essence of what is going to work is that we can’t be predicted!”

“Is there any way you can give us an overview of the battle site?” Kethry asked.

“I don’t—” Nanca began, and then—her eyes fell on Warrl. And she began to grin.

Mind-mate, Warrl said, with alarm, backing up a pace, I am not at all certain I like where this is going—

I knew I would not like where this was going, Warrl complained bitterly, as he hovered in place, four paws dangling limply in midair. If the gods had intended us to fly, they would have made us gryphons.

“Hush up and practice.” Tarma admonished him. “Just do what Nanca told you to do; run as if you were running on the ground.”

It’s undignified. He protested, ears laid back flat, but obeyed.

Finally even Nanca was satisfied with what he was doing. “You’re no Tayledras bondbird, but you’ll do,” she said with satisfaction. “Now just make sure Jendran doesn’t see you, and you’ll be fine.”

I’m doomed, Warrl said bitterly. I’m a calf-sized flying predator. How is he not going to see me?

But he galloped clumsily up into the sky anyway.

Tarma closed her eyes and concentrated on what Warrl was showing her. The layout of the troops. The disposition of the “special” constructs that their opponent would be operating himself. And most importantly, the whereabouts of Jendran himself—

Ack! bleated Warrl, as suddenly crossbow bolts from three separate units came hurtling toward him.

And Warrl came hurtling back at top speed, now displaying a great deal more agility than he had going out.

Or at least, agility in the air. He landed like a sack of wet sand, three crossbow bolts sticking out of his improvised battle-armor.

And he glared at Tarma.

If you ever ask me to do that again, he said savagely, I will bite you. I will remove a very large piece of your flesh. And forever after you will be known as “Tarma the Half-A —”

“They know we’re coming,” Tarma said hastily. “The advantage of surprise is over. Let’s move, people.”

The victory feast was very real. It was held outside the game-world, in no small part because what was inside the game-world was not entirely real. Jendran had a small, but comfortable Keep literally on the threshold of the Gate terminus, complete with several servants and a really good cook, none of them constructs.

“Brilliant!” he kept saying with delight. “I don’t know when I’ve had a better game! But, of course, now we’re going to have to agree to ban all other players from the field except the two of us, or agree to incorporate an even number on both sides.”

Jendran was a small, wiry fellow in person, not at all formidable. But Tarma had immense respect for his ability to think on his feet and strategically deal with the unexpected. They had won, but it had been a very near thing, and only the last-minute appearance of Warrl, who body-slammed the mage from the rear, knocking him off his feet, had given them the victory as quickly as they had it.

Warrl was inordinately proud of that fact. Tarma was more than inclined to let him bask.

“I just want you to keep us in mind at some point in the future,” she said, polishing off a second slice of apple tart. “Being able to practice large-scale strategy like this—”

“It will be a while before we can manage something that is not so predictable,” Nanca put in. “But—well, I, for one, would value your input. And that of any other fighter you feel you can trust.”

The discussion went on long into the night hours, and in the morning, fully resupplied and with their fee jingling in the pouches, they rode off towards Kata’shin’a’in and hopefully, some work.

But their did remain one small question in Tarma’s mind.

Did you really mean what you said about biting me if I ever made you fly again? she thought hard at Warrl.

The kyree did not look back over his shoulder, but she got the distinct impression of a glower.

:You are feeling, precisely, how lucky?: was his only response.

And on reflection she could only come to one conclusion.

Not that lucky.

NOVELS BY MERCEDES LACKEY

available from DAW Books:

THE HERALDS OF VALDEMAR

ARROWS OF THE QUEEN

ARROW’S FLIGHT

ARROW’S FALL

THE LAST HERALD-MAGE

MAGIC’S PAWN

MAGIC’S PROMISE

MAGIC’S PRICE

THE MAGE WINDS

WINDS OF FATE

WINDS OF CHANGE

WINDS OF FURY

THE MAGE STORMS

STORM WARNING

STORM RISING

STORM BREAKING

VOWS AND HONOR

THE OATHBOUND

OATHBREAKERS

OATHBLOOD

BY THE SWORD

BRIGHTLY BURNING

TAKE A THIEF

EXILE’S HONOR

EXILE’S VALOR

VALDEMAR ANTHOLOGIES:

SWORD OF ICE

SUN IN GLORY

CROSSROADS

Written with LARRY DIXON:

THE MAGE WARS

THE BLACK GRYPHON

THE WHITE GRYPHON

THE SILVER GRYPHON

DARIAN’S TALE

OWLFLIGHT

OWLSIGHT

OWLKNIGHT

OTHER NOVELS

THE BLACK SWAN

THE DRAGON JOUSTERS

JOUST

ALTA

SANCTUARY

THE ELEMENTAL MASTERS

THE SERPENT’S SHADOW

THE GATES OF SLEEP

PHOENIX AND ASHES

THE WIZARD OF LONDON

And don’t miss:

The VALDEMAR COMPANION

Edited by John Helfers and Denise Little