The Silver Gryphon

now! I want messengers sent to Shalaman! I want every man the Haighlei can spare out there looking, too! I want—”

We have to work this together, or they’re not going to listen to us. Amberdrake seized his friend’s head in both hands, hooking his fingertips into the gryphon’s nares. He pulled Skan’s beak down so that the gryphon was looking directly into his eyes. “I know,” he said forcefully. “Believe me, I feel the same! We have to call the Council to authorize this, Skan, but I don’t think anybody on it is going to disagree with us, and if they do—”

Skan growled wordlessly at the very idea.

“If they do, we—we both know things they wish we didn’t,” he pointed out.

“We do. And I’ll use that.” There it was; Skan agreed with him. It wasn’t right, but it was better than arguing with shard-counters until it was too late to do anything.

“But there’s no point in scattering everybody like a covey of frightened quail,” Drake persisted, trying

to convince himself as much as Skandranon. “All right? Let’s get things coordinated. Judeth told the original patrol to look for them; right now that’s all that anyone can do out there. We have to organize, and get people out there, talk people into using Gates again if we have to. We have to get Council backing for all that before anything else can be done, and that isn’t going to happen if we’re both standing here and wasting precious time screaming like outraged parents!”

“We are outraged parents!” The gryphon kicked clods of dirt in flurries of rage. “I don’t want to have to follow procedure!”

Amberdrake put his fists on his hips and leaned toward Skandranon. “We will get Council approval, by whatever means necessary.”

I hate it, but that’s the case. If we want to have more than just “the usual effort” from the Silvers, we have to get Council authorization. And that’s where the threats of blackmail come in.

Skan growled again, but without as much force behind it. “Damn it, Drake, why do you have to be so right?” he snarled. “All right then, I’ll go back in there and have Kechara call in the Council members so we can authorize all of this.”

Amberdrake wanted to add don’t frighten her, but he held his tongue. Of all of them, Skan knew best how not to do anything that would make Kechara unhappy. He was her “Papa Skan,” and she loved him with all of her heart—which was as large as her poor brain was small. He would no more do anything to frighten her than he would allow Blade and Tad to languish in the wilderness, unsought-for and unrescued.

He headed back toward the Council Hall, certain that if Winterhart and Zhaneel were not already on the way there, after Kechara’s call, they would be.

Skan came stalking in shortly after Drake, and within moments after that, the rest of the Council members came hurrying in. Judeth was one of the first, looking very surprised and taken aback, and just a little annoyed; and although Skan leveled an icy glare at her, his tone was civil enough.

“I’ve called this meeting,” he said. “Since this is an emergency situation.”

He waited only until there were enough Council members present to constitute a quorum, and until everyone was seated before nodding to Judeth.

“You’re the commander of the Silvers, so I think it best that you explain the emergency to the rest of the Council,” he said crisply. Judeth looked as if she wanted to say something scathing to him, but held her tongue, which was probably wise.

Amberdrake had a good idea of what she was thinking, however. She was, first and foremost, a military commander, and under any other circumstances, the fact that two of the most junior members of the Silvers were missing—or overdue—should not have been considered an emergency the Council should be concerned with. Only an hysterical—but powerful—parent could have thought that it was.

And Amberdrake would have cheerfully throttled her for suggesting any such thing, if she dared.

Throttled her, then revived her so I could throttle her again. Part of him was appalled at this capacity for violence within himself; the rest of him nodded in gleeful agreement at the idea. Then I’d revive her so that Skan could have a turn.

But she evidently knew better—or the threat of his influence made her think twice about suggesting any such thing. Judeth explained the situation, coolly and calmly, while the other members of the Council listened without making any comments. Skan kept glaring around the table as if daring any of them to say that this was not the sort of emergency for which the Council should be called.

No one did, but Snowstar did have something to say that put the entire situation into a perspective that Amberdrake greatly appreciated.