As she and Darkwind watched the intruder from their respective hiding-places, she knew all of her guesses about it had been wrong.
She didn't know whether to be relieved that this interloper was not their Nyara, or not. If it had been Falconsbane's daughter, the situation between herself and Darkwind would have been complicated enormously.
Her own instincts warred with her on the subject; she trusted Nyara to a limited extent, and she certainly felt that the Changechild had been greatly wronged and abused, but-But Nyara was incredibly, potently, sexually attractive. She couldn't help herself. Elspeth would have to have been blind not to see that Darkwind had wanted her as much as Skif had and that if anything had kept them from becoming intimate, it wasn't lack of attraction. She suspected that his own innate suspicion, lack of opportunity, and Perhaps something on Nyara's part had kept him from playing the role Of lover. As it was, that night before Dawnfire had returned to them, trapped in the body of her bondbird, it had been Skif, not Darkwind, who had taken that role. And, perhaps, guilt had kept Darkwind at arm's length. Guilt, that kept him from taking a new lover when his former love was a captive, confined to a bird's body by the temptress' father.
But Falconsbane was dead, or the next thing to it, and Dawnfire was out of reach of any of them. That left him free. And if he encountered Nyara before Skif did, would he be able to stand against temptation a second time? Especially if Nyara were to make overtures?
Knowing men, she didn't think so.
But at the same time, discovering that this stranger was not Nyara was a disappointment. However brief their acquaintance had been, Elspeth liked Nyara, and felt a great deal of sympathy for her. And she sometimes spared a moment to worry about her, out there in the wild lands that k'sheyna no longer held, with a mage-sword who might not even like her. She had few or no provisions, no shelter against the coming winter unless she had somehow found or made one...Well, this wasn't the time to worry about their errant Changechild.
Not with another standing on k'sheyna lands, within k'sheyna bordersand by the blood on its hands and the circle about its feet, one who was up to no good.
Elspeth had done enough hunting in her time not to be sickened by the blood of a butchered deer. What made her ill were the fact that it was a dyheli that had been slain, and the signs that the butchery had taken place before it was dead, not after.
Blood-magic. Wasn't that what Darkwind and Quenten both mentioned, but wouldn't talk about?
Well, here it was-a 'blood-mage'-and now that she knew what to Look for, she Sensed the power that the mage had drawn into himself as a result of his work. It wasn't power she could have used under any circumstances; in fact, it made her a little nauseous to brush against it just long enough to figure out what it was. But it was power) and she had a notion that the death of a thinking, reasoning creature like a dyheli would have given this mage four times the strength that a deer would have. Perhaps more, depending on how long it had suffered.
Easy power, easily obtained, from a source you can find anywhere. And if you're sadistic by nature, a source that gives pleasure when exploited. NO wonder Ancar is attracted to it.
If Nyara was feline in nature, this creature was serpentine. As he moved about, disposing of his victim, he glided rather than walked, and many of his motions had a bonelessness to them that made her shiver in an atavistic reaction to the evocation of 'snake.' Odd. the hertasi don't do that to me, and they aren't half as human. I wonder why this thing does?
What exposed skin she saw-mostly hands and a glimpse of cheek-gleamed in the late afternoon light, with a kind of matte reflectivity that hinted at hard, shiny scales.
He dressed for deep cold, rather than the autumnal chill of the season; heavy leather boots, thick hose, a fur-lined tunic and cloak, and a heavy velvet shirt beneath the tunic. The colors were curious; a strange, dappled golden brown shading into deep orange-colors that blended surprisingly well into the foliage. Whatever else he was, this Changechild was canny. If he lay unmoving in the heart of a thicket, no one would ever see him.
The Changechild looked up at the first rustle of leaves, and froze in a combat-ready crouch. Darkwind dropped out of the branches like a great hawk coming to land, his knees flexed, and his hands in front of him, wary and ready to launch into an attack or defense as the need arose.
The creature faced her fully now, and she saw that beneath the hood of his cloak, his face was curiously flat, with a thin, lipless mouth, and unblinking eyes as round as marbles. He straightened, but did not relax his wary pose.
Neither did Darkwind.
'You trespass,' the Hawkbrother said clearly and slowly, in the most common of the trade-tongues used hereabouts. 'You trespass upon the lands of the Tayledras k'sheyna, and you pollute those lands with blood needlessly spilled.' That thin mouth stretched in what might have passed for a smile in any other creature. He straightened with arrogant self-assurance. 'Not needlessly,' he said. 'and who or what are you to tell me what I may or may not do?'
'Tayledras k'sheyna,' Darkwind replied flatly. 'These are our lands.
We do not permit this. You will depart, taking your filth with you.' The mouth stretched a little more, and the creature's hands flexed a little. 'What? Run from a single foe? I think not.' He made no gesture, but the circle he had drawn about his feet in blood flamed with sullen powerand, horribly, the disemboweled dyheli on the ground beside him heaved itself to its feet. It stood swaying a little, a gaping hole where its belly should have been, its eyes red with that same sullen power, and a dull glow about its hooves and horns.
'You are only one,' the Changechild said softly. 'One single Hawkbrother is hardly a threat. This weak creature was not enough. I think you will do to serve me.' Elspeth did not need Darkwind's signal to step from concealment, with Gwena at her side. She took up her position near enough to the Hawkbrother that they could not easily be separated, but distant enough that they would not interfere with each other.
'We are Tayledras k'sheyna Darkwind said, firmly, but with no hint of anger. 'And you will leave now.' This time Hydona was not around to keep her from using the strongest source of power she could Sense, and there was a three-line node not more than a furlong from where they stood. She tapped into it. quickly; to her Othersight it glowed with healthy green fire, and touching it was a pleasant jolt, as if she took a deep draught of cold spring water on a hot day. She established her link and channeled power to herself and her shields before the stranger had a chance to respond to Darkwind's challenge. She kept the level of her outermost shield the same so as not to warn him; at minimal strength, the kind of mage-shield a beginner would build. But, like a paper screen hiding a stone barrier, beneath the disguising energies of the first shield was a second, and it was linked to the node-power.
It was just as well that she did, because the Changechild's reply was to attack.
