bondbirds were.
He posed for a moment, and she realized that he was doing it deliberately.
Not that she blamed him. She smiled, but kept it to herself.
Oh, what a vain creature he is! And how he basks in the admiration he's getting. Rightfully.
They had expected a venerable wise man; another Iceshadow with more presence, perhaps. What they had gotten was something else entirely.
He swept his arm out and the firebird drifted down to rest on his snow-white leather gauntlet, alighting as silently as one of its own feathers would fall. Only then was it clear that the firebird was fully as large as any of the greater hawks, and approached the size of the hawk-eagle.
Its tail trailed down gracefully to within a hand's breadth of the snow, and it, too, posed, as if perfectly well aware of its unearthly beauty.
He was dressed all in white; white furs and leathers, long white hair with white feathers in a braid to one side, white coat draped over the rump of his white dyheli. Three sets of ice-blue eyes looked over the assembled Clansfolk dispassionately; the eyes of the dyheli and the firebird held only curiosity, but the eyes of the Adept held more than a touch of a self-confidence that was surely forgivable-both for his Adept status (and indeed, he could never have achieved that complete bleaching of hair and eyes and bird if he had not been controlling node-magic since he could toddle) and for his absolute physical perfection.
Never in all her life had Elspeth seen anyone so beautiful. That was the only word for him. He was beautiful in a way that transcended sexuality and yet was bound up with it.
So some arrogance and self-assurance could certainly be forgiven, even if he was no older than Darkwind.
Gwena was staring at him intently, much more intently than Elspeth expected.
'What's wrong?' she asked the Companion quietly. 'Is there anything wrong?'
'Nothing wrong, exactly,' she said slowly. 'No, that's not true. there's nothing wrong at all. But it almost seems like I've seen him before, though I can't imagine how I ever could have. But there certainly is something familiar about him-: 'Of course there is, my dear,' a deep, masculine mind-voice interrupted.
And the k'treva Adept winked at the Companion, slowly, and unmistakably.
Elspeth was left floundering in surprise-and as for Gwena, clearly, if the Companionys jaw could have dropped in shock, it would have. Gwena stepped backwards.
'Greetings, Clansibs,' the Adept called to them all, as calmly as if he had not just utterly flabbergasted Gwena. 'I am Firesong k'treva, and I trust I have not made you wait for too long for my arrival.' With that, he dismounted, sliding from the back of the dyheli so smoothly that the firebird was not in the least disturbed. There was a pack on his back-also of white leather-which had been hidden until he dismounted. The dyheli paced beside him as he walked forward to the Veil and the Tayledras waiting to greet him, one hand still on the dyheli's shoulder, a half-smile on his handsome face. Iceshadow and the other Elders greeted him first, as was only proper, but when he had done clasping arms with them, he turned immediately to Elspeth and Darkwind.
'And here are those whose message summoned me,' he said, tossing his head to send his braid over his shoulder, his lips curved in an enigmatic smile. 'I see one Clansib-and two Outlanders. A fascinating combination.'
'This is Wingsister Elspeth k'sheyna k'valdemar, and her Companion Gwena k'valdemar,' Darkwind said carefully. A little too carefully, Elspeth thought. 'I am Darkwind.'
'K'Valdemar, hmm?' Firesong repeated, his smile increasing by just a hair. 'And a Companion. Zhaihelleva, Wingsibs. The tale of your coming here must be a fascinating one indeed.'
'Elspeth is a Herald of Valdemar, if you have heard of such things.' Darkwind's voice was carefully neutral. 'There is another Herald out on the borders of k'sheyna who was also made Wingsib, one Skif k'sheyna k'valdemar- but it is pressing business that keeps him there, and at any rate, he is no mage.' Which you, bright falcon, most certainly are.' Firesong's handclasp was warm and firm as he took Elspeth's hand in greeting. 'And as it happens I have heard of Heralds before. It is something of a k'treva legend, the visits of Heralds. But then, k'treva has always been consideredhmm-unconventional.' He glanced aside at Iceshadow, who coughed politely.
'But here I am keeping you out in the snow and cold, when we could be in the welcoming warmth of the Vale!' he exclaimed, turning swiftly in a graceful swirl of snowy hair, feathers, and clothing. 'Come, Clansibs!
Let us continue these greetings in comfort.'
Darkwind struggled against annoyance. This Firesong-this young Firesong-displayed a body-language that flaunted his arrogance. And a confidence that implied a competence fully as great as the arrogance.
Well, the firebird resting on his shoulder said something of his competence.
It had been generations since one of the Tayledras had thought to breed up a new species of bondbird-and to do so from firebird stock was doubly amazing. Firebirds were shy, highly territorial, easily startled-none of those being traits that augured well for their potential as bondbirds. Yet here he was, this Firesong, bearing a snow-white firebird that sat his shoulder as calmly as ever a forest-gyre sat a scout's.
Small wonder that his Clan described him as an experimenter.
He could be older than he looked; it often took an Adept up to sixty years to show any signs of aging. But Darkwind doubted that. The arrogance that Firesong flaunted was that of youth, not age; Darkwind reckoned that he might even be a year or two younger than he was. just as annoying was Elspeth's obvious fascination with the newcomer.
He is as beautiful as a god, a traitorous whisper said in the back of his mind. How could she not be attracted to him? How could anyone?
He took small comfort in the fact that Firesong chose an ekele near the opposite end of the Vale from Elspeth's. Right beside Starblade's in fact, a little higher in the same tree. But no sooner had the Adept tossed his white pack carelessly up into the open door, sent his white firebird to a perch, and shed his heavy outer garments, than he turned and looked down at Darkwind with that annoying half-smile on his face.
