It was weakening, fading away.
That gave him his second wind and the strength to keep his place, to keep the power contained. As it faded, so did his strength, but always just a little behind the tone so that his ability to keep it contained was just enough to do so.
Finally it was gone, faded into an echo, then into nothing.
He opened his eyes, swaying on his feet, and looked around. Firesong leaned heavily on the blade, which was buried to the hilt in a pile of uneven, dull-gray shards. Starblade leaned on Kethra's shoulder, and even as he watched, Iceshadow and Nightjewel sank to the ground together.
Even the gryphons' heads were hanging down with weariness.
But when Treyvan finally raised his head with an effort, and looked into Darkwind's eyes, Darkwind saw satisfaction and triumph that mirrored his own there.
'Brothers,' came the weary voice from the center of the circle. 'Sisters.
We have succeeded.'
'Damn if we haven't,' Need said, and even the sword sounded exhausted 'Damn if we haven't.' Firesong stood erect again, pulling himself up with an effort, and with a single gesture, banished the circle of power beyond them that had contained the rogue Stone for so long. He shared that power among them, equally, giving them all the strength to stand firmly again. Not much more than that, but at least they were no longer about to drop.
Darkwind did not need to close his eyes to sense the burning lens of power that had been the Stone and was now the proto-Gate. It hovered between this world and the world of Gates and ley-lines, affected by both-yet no longer the malignant, near-sentient thing it had been. Now it was only power. And now that the shields were down, the gryphons were able to draw safely on the clean power of their own node.
They lost their weariness, legs straightening, wings refolding with a snap, heads coming up.
Nyara entered the former circle quietly, and Firesong handed Need back to her with a little bow of courtesy before he turned back to the gryphons. 'Well,' he said, his voice already stronger, as he shared the power they were drawing from the node they had made their own. 'And are you ready for the first stage of the move?'
'Lead on, featherrlessss one,' Treyvan said, cocking his head sideways.' And congratulationssss. That wasss well done.' Firesong had that arrogant little smile back, but this time Darkwind was not going to fault him for it. This had been the most brilliant, innovative piece of magic he had ever seen-and, he suspected, was ever likely to see.
'Thank you,' Firesong replied with no show of humility at all, false or otherwise. 'That was the hardest part. The rest, though it will be tedious, will be much easier.'
'Hmm. Yesss. Perrhapsss. It isss not wissse to count the eyassess until they arrre fledged.' Hydona roused her feathers with a shake, so much like Vree that Darkwind chuckled despite his weariness. 'Ssstill, sssoonesst begun isss sssoonessst done. Let usss deal with thisss prrrotogate of yoursss before it getsss the notion to wanderrr on itsss own.' As the rest of them gathered themselves up and headed for the Council Oak, where the hertasi had assembled food and drink, Darkwind sighed with relief and squeezed Elspeth's hand. The worst, indeed, was over.
No matter what else happened, Falconsbane would not be able to destroy the Vale and Stone together. So for now, at least, they were safe.
Or as safe as they were likely to get, with Falconsbane still out there.
Still plotting. Still watching.
Still Falconsbane... a terrible and implacable foe.
*Chapter Twenty-one - The Black Riders
There was a peculiar feeling to the Featherless Fools' Vale today. Falconsbane could not quite put his finger on what it was, but he sensed that they had redoubled their shielding on the Stone again. They had also reduced the number of lines on the Stone to a bare two, but those were the most powerful of all. It would not have been possible to sever either of them-no matter how good that Adept thought he was.
He smiled to himself, fingering the tiny, carved horse-which was not onyx, nor obsidian, nor any other stone he knew. It could not be chipped nor marred in any way at all, no matter what he did to it. It should have been fragile. He had even ordered one of his artisans to strike it with a stone sledgehammer when nothing he had done had affected it in any way. It had chipped the hammer; obviously, it was anything but fragile.
A puzzle; like those who had sent it.
One he did not have time for, as matters stood. He needed to concentrate on his plan for k'sheyna, a plan that required patience and vigilance, but would pay for that patience handsomely. The Bird Lovers could put all the shields they wanted to on that Stone of theirs; they still wouldn't be able to save it. And the moment they dropped the shielding, he would be waiting. He would not fail a second time.
Let them only drop the shield. He had been waiting for days now, buried in his study, gathering his strength, preparing a single, lightning strike that would overwhelm Starblade, burn away his mind, and burn through him to the Stone.
It was a new sort of action for him-and thus, he thought, it would be unexpected and unanticipated. There would be no testing, no struggling of wills. just one single, quick, clean blow, spending all of his power in that strike and holding none in reserve. A reckless kind of action, audacious. Starblade would flare up like a stick of dry kindling, and a moment later, his home would follow, Adept and all. It was not the end he would have chosen for Starblade or his followers, but it would at least be revenge.
Only let them drop the shield-He watched, as patient as a cat at a mousehole, as a lion above a salt lick, knowing that to reestablish those lines they would have to drop the shield-to use the power of the node in the ruins to try to heal the Stone, they would have to drop the shield. Sooner or later, it would have to come down. There was not enough untainted power within the Vale to even begin to heal the Stone.
Assuming it could be healed. He didn't think that was possible. He had hundreds of years of mage-craft behind him, and he would not have cared to try it.
