The Silver Gryphon

nearly blue-black. “Um. You said it’s really damp. Humid?”

He nodded. “There’s fog there, isn’t there? Every morning. And rain every evening.”

She brightened. “Bladders. Seals. Anything made of leather or wood—or metal that might rust. Repair parts that can get ruined by damp! That would be for—the water pump, the stove, the plumbing—” She began to scribble.

“Good!” Aubri turned to Tad, who fortunately had an answer waiting, because he already knew Aubri’s prejudices. He’d heard the litany often enough, when he was still living at home.

“The kind of equipment that might go missing or get spoiled by damp that doesn’t rely on magic to work,” he said promptly. “Things like firestrikers, tinder boxes, trace sextant and compass for surveying . . . ah. . . .” He pummeled his brain. Aubri nodded.

“Don’t strain yourself; since you’ve just shown me that you know the principle, I’ll give you a list. It’s basically a few common replacement parts and some old army gear; won’t add that much to your load, but there isn’t much you can’t do with it if you put your mind to the problem.”

He didn’t even move; he just stretched out a claw and stabbed a piece of paper already waiting on the top of the goldenwood desk that stood just within snatching distance. He must have been ready for them, once again proving that he wasn’t nearly as absentminded as he seemed.

Blade took it from him, and Tad noticed that she seemed a bit bemused. Probably because she had a tendency to take everything and everyone at face value, and every time Aubri went into his “senile old featherhead” act, she fell for it.

Well, she can’t help it. This was her big weakness, and Tad had a good idea why she wasn’t likely to cure it any time soon. Part of the problem was that she just didn’t want to look past the surface masks that everyone wore, no matter how honest and genuine they were. Tad’s partner just didn’t want to know what surprises might lie beneath those polite masks; that Empathy thing of hers bothered her, and if she could have had it surgically removed, Tad had it figured that she would have done so no matter what the risk. And there were reasons behind that as well; she had realized a long time ago that she would never, ever be as good as her father at delving into people’s hearts and souls. She was the kind of person who, if she couldn’t excel at something, didn’t want to try.

Silly. Not every mage can be a Snowstar, but the hedge-wizards can do plenty of things he hasn’t got the time for, or even do subtle things he can’t do at all. Well, it’d be flogging pointlessly to take that up with her, at least now. Maybe after we’ve been out there a while, and we ‘ve had a lot of peace and privacy. That particular twitch of hers bothered him, though, and he wanted to have it straightened out before too very long. Any amount of mind-magic was useful, the more so in someone who might well be supposed to boast nothing of the sort. Father always says that if you’ve got an ability, it’s stupid not to train and use it, even if it isn‘t something that you‘d use very often.

Blade compared the two lists, and added several items to theirs before she handed the one Aubri had given her back to him. Tad was pleased to note that she had not needed to copy the whole thing down. So they hadn’t done so badly on their own.

I wonder if there was a bone setting kit on Aubri’s list, though. It certainly fits his criteria of “nonmagical” and “spoiled by damp.“ But, oh, the weight! If only someone could come up with better splints and casting material! It seems so stupid to be hauling wood and powdered rock!

Aubri crossed his forelegs in front of him, and regarded both of them with a benign, almost paternal expression on his face. “Well. Two more of my fledges go out to prove their wings. I think you’ll like the post; neither of you are the kind to pine after a city when you can thrash around in the forest and see things no one else ever has before.” He sighed. “Adventures are for the young, who haven’t got bone aches. Now me—I’m happy to be here in White Gryphon where I can sunbathe every day. But there should be enough new discoveries there to make even two youngsters like you happy.”

He did not mention that he knew their personal prime reason for being so happy with this assignment; getting away from their beloved families. He had never acted as if he recognized them as Skandranon’s and Amberdrake’s offspring—

Well, he wouldn’t; not while we were in training. But he’s never even mentioned our parents casually. Maybe he is a little absentminded in that direction; maybe he doesn’t recognize us now that we’re grown.

“We’re looking forward to it, sir,” he said honestly. “And it’ll be nice to be away from home for the first time.”

Aubri nodded, then grinned. “Oh, you aren’t the only ones who’ve been interested in long assignments outside the city, believe it or not. I told Judeth that she should never assign anyone to Five who didn’t have a good reason for being there as well as a good reason for getting away from home. I’ve never seen anyone who fit those qualifications better than you two. And to tell you the truth, I had a third reason to want you out there—you’re a two-and-four team. That’s a good combination for an outpost.”

That was a gryphon paired with a human. That particular team was not all that usual among the Silvers; people tended to team up with members of their own species. Usually the two-and-fours were default teams, made up of those who couldn’t find a compatible partner among their own kind. Quite often they broke up after training, when a senior Silver could take a junior out of training as a partner. Those who were in default two-and-fours generally did just that.