replied. 'Gwena can't think of any way around it either, but she's in agreement with both of us on not working near the Heartstone.' She finished the last of her bread and stood up, dusting her hands off. 'So, what, exactly, are we doing?' He licked juice from his fingers and followed her example, handed her a coat, then led the way down the stairs to the path below. 'Well, we can't do a wide open Mindcall,' he began.
'Obviously,' she said dryly. 'Since we don't want every nasty thing in the area to know that k'sheyna is in trouble. I wouldn't imagine we'd want to do a focused Mindcall either; something still might pick it up, even though we meant it only for Tayledras. There might even be something watching for a Mindcall like that, for all we know.'
'And what's the point in wasting all the energy needed for a focused Mindcall to all the Clans when there may not be more than one or two Adepts that can help us?' he concluded. 'No, what I'd thought that we should do is to send a specific message-spell; that is a complicated message that can be carried by a single bird.' He smiled to himself; she wouldn't believe what kind of bird would carry the incorporeal message, but it was the most logical.
'To whom?' she asked in surprise, as Gwena joined them, following a polite ten paces behind. 'I thought-' she stopped in confusion.
'I don't know who to send it to, but I know what,' he explained, brushing aside a branch that overhung the path. 'Somewhere in the Clans is a Healing Adept of a high enough level that he either knows or can figure out what we need to do. Now I know that no one here can, so I send out a message to the nearest Clan, aimed at any Adept that's of our ability or higher. In this case, the nearest Clan is k'treva. And I'm pretty sure they have someone better equipped to deal with this than we are. They offered their help a while back ' and Father refused it.'
'And if no one there can help us after all?' she asked, darkly.
He shrugged. 'Then I ask them to pass on the word to the others.
They don't have a flawed Heartstone in their midst. They can send out to any Clan Council. To tell you the truth, our biggest problem with getting the Stone taken care of has been isolation. Solve that, and we can solve the rest.' The Vale was unusually silent, with all the mages abed and recovering.
Their steps were the only sounds besides the faint stirring of leaves in the breeze and the bird songs that always circulated through the Vale.
She was quiet all the way to the entrance and the Veil that guarded it.
Beyond the protections, another winter snowstorm dropped fat flakes through the bare branches of the trees.
They shared a look of resignation; wrapped themselves in their coats and crossed the invisible barrier between summer and winter. The first sound outside was of their boots splashing into the puddles of water made by snow melted from the ambient heat of the Vale's entrance.
There was no wind, and snow buried their feet to the calf with every step they took. Flakes drifted down slowly through air that felt humid on Darkwind's face. and not as cold as he had expected. Above the gray branches, a white sky stretched featurelessly from horizon to horizon; Darkwind got the oddest impression, as if the snowflakes were bits of the sky, chipped off and slowly falling. Beneath the branches, the gray columns of the tree trunks loomed through the curtaining snow, and more snow carpeted the forest floor and mounded in the twigs of every bush. There were no evergreens in this part of the woods. so there was nothing to break the landscape of gray and white.
Snow creaked under their feet, and the cold crept into his boots. Their feet would be half frozen by the time they reached the ruins.
Darkwind didn't mind the lack of color. After the riot of colors and verdant greens within the Vale, the subdued grays and gray-browns were restful, refreshing. He wished, though, that he had time and the proper surroundings to enjoy them.
This is a good day for bundling up beside a fire, watching the snow and not thinking of anything in particular.
'This is the kind of day when I used to curl up in a blanket in a window and read,' Elspeth said quietly, barely breaking the silence.
'When I'd just sit, listen to the fire, watch the snow pile up on the window ledge, and think about how nice it was to be warm and inside.'
He chuckled, and she glanced at him. Gwena moved around them to walk in front, breaking the trail for them.
' I was just thinking the same thing,' he explained. 'If we only had the time. I used to do much the same.'
'Ah.' She nodded. 'I'd forgotten you used to live outside that glorified greenhouse. I like it, the Vale, I mean- but sometimes I miss weather when I'm in there. It's hard to tell what time of day it is, much less what season.'
'Well, I imagine Wintermoon and Skif would be willing to trade places with us right now,' he replied thoughtfully. 'This is good weather to be inside-but not for camping. Snow this damp is heavy when it collects on a tent. Oh, if you're wondering, I sent Vree on ahead with a message about what we want to do; I expect Treyvan and Hydona will be waiting for us.'
'I was wondering.' She glanced at him again, but this time she halfsmiled as she tucked her hair more securely inside the hood of her coat.
'Not that I expected them to object, but it is considered good manners to let people know that you are planning on setting off fireworks from the roof of their house-and you plan to have their help in doing it.' He laughed; this was a very pleasant change from the Elspeth of several weeks ago. Reasonable, communicative. And showing a good sense of humor. 'Yes it is,' he agreed. 'My message to them was that if they objected to the idea, to let me know immediately. That was when I first woke; since Vree didn't come back, I assume they don't mind.'
'Either that, or he forgot his promise and made a snatch at a crestfeather again,' she said with mock solemnity. 'In that case, you'll have to find yourself another bondbird.'
Elspeth enjoyed the walk, for with Gwena breaking the trail for them, the trip to the lair was something like a pleasant morning's hike. They had to keep a watch for unexpected trouble, of course, but nothing more
