were loops of leather rather than metal, and she had a little trouble getting her feet into them. He fastened her belongings behind the odd saddle; the dyheli did not have a bridle or reins, only a kind of handle at the front of the saddle for her to slip her hand into. She hadn’t ridden enough to feel comfortable even on so familiar a creature as a pony, so she did just that, immediately.
Darian swung into a saddle on a handsome stag with such effortless grace that she felt embarrassed that she had been so clumsy. But after all, she consoled herself, he’s been riding around Valdemar for four years; he ought to be good at this.
:Don’t worry, child,: Meree said sympathetically into her mind. :Tayledras are masters at making people feel selfconscious. They don’t mean to, it just happens.:
Oddly enough, the remark made her feel a bit better, and she settled herself, trying to get the feel of the saddle.
That seemed to be the signal to move out; Darian hadn’t even settled into his saddle, and the entire group launched off with a great leap, at a pace that left her hanging on for dear life. She’d expected an easy amble. Instead, it was a bounding lope that bounced her backward and forward, throwing her alternately toward the dyheli’s rump, then toward the wickedly dangerous horns. This - can’t be comfortable for either of us -
:Move with me,: came the patient voice in her head. :Here. Like this.:
This was unlike the way that Nightwind had simply touched her mind; the dyheli seized her mind in a gentle but implacable mental grip, and she found her body moving under someone else’s control for a few moments. It happened too quickly for her to panic; she took note of the way her body now felt, how it moved - for she could feel, even if she didn’t have control - and just as abruptly, Meree released her.
It took a few moments for her to get herself properly coordinated, but once she got the knack of it, everything fell into place and she began to enjoy herself. She was going far faster than she herself could run, with the wind of their passing in her face and hair, the forest all around her. She felt the dyheli’s powerful muscles moving under her legs and hands, and the thought came to her that Meree was far stronger than she looked.
By the time she was comfortable with riding, they were well into the forest, far enough that she didn’t immediately recognize exactly where they were. They might even be past the areas she was familiar with by now. It was already dusk beneath the trees, a thick, blue dusk with a flavor of its own, of old leaves, crushed evergreen needles, a touch of damp and the scent of sap. Overhead was the sound of wings; as she looked around, she saw that many of the riders had a perch built onto the fronts or backs of their saddles, and their birds perched there, taking the movement of the dyheli as easily as the movement of a branch in the wind. If they weren’t asleep, they were comfortable and relaxed.
So if the bondbirds were down here, with their riders - what was flying above?
:Kel. The gryphon,: Meree answered. :He’s the one you hear. There are three owls as well, but you won’t hear them; owls fly silently.:
“Can you hear everything I think?” Keisha asked, feeling a little nettled at this intrusion on her thoughts.
:You aren’t shielded, so of course I can. I’ll stop if you want me to.: Meree sounded perfectly indifferent, as if such a thing wouldn’t matter to the dyheli, but maybe that was just Keisha’s own shading on the answer.
Good question. Would it matter? Meree was unlikely to gossip about Keisha’s innermost thoughts, after all.
:Your innermost thoughts are of very little interest to me. Now, if you were a member of k’Valdemar herd, it would be different, but gossip about humans is, at the most, not even entertaining for one of us.:
Keisha had a vision of a pair of dyheli with their heads together over a back fence, kerchiefs tied over their horns, gossiping like a pair of Errold’s Grove matrons, and giggled. That destroyed any annoyance she’d been feeling, and she attempted to frame her answer in thought, rather than speech.
:What about “gossip “ about plants ? Do you know about the fungus that grows on sheep- sorrel?: Speaking this way was easier than she had thought. Instead of having to say “sheep-sorrel,” and then attempt to describe it and the fungus, she found she could just picture them clearly.
:Sheep-sorrel, yes, but what of this fungus?: Meree replied, and they were off, with both Keisha and Meree becoming more and more animated as the ride progressed. Keisha learned about half a dozen plants that she recognized, but hadn’t known uses for; Meree learned even more from Keisha. Meree referred to things not only by how they looked but how they tasted. Keisha wished she had her Herbal handy. She wanted badly to make some notes in the blank pages.
:We can go over this later, when you can write and draw,: Meree promised. :You will have the time, I will see to it, and I will not forget what you want to record.:
