The Silver Gryphon

thudded right into its head. It dropped in its tracks, stunned, while the rest of the group continued to squabble, squall, and bite.

Blade stepped back into the front of the cave and watched the wyrsa with satisfaction. “I wondered just how cohesive that pack was. I also wonder how long it’s going to take them to associate a distance-weapon with us; I doubt that they’ve ever seen or experienced one before.”

At just that moment, another one of the creatures emerged from the bushes, and uttered a cry that was part hiss, part deep-throated growl. The reaction to this was remarkable and immediate; the others stopped fighting, instantly, and dropped to the ground, groveling in submission. The new wyrsa ignored them, going instead to the one that Blade had brought down, sniffing at it, then nipping its hindquarters to bring it groggily to its feet.

“I’d say the pack-leader just arrived,” Tad said.

The new wyrsa swung its head around as he spoke, and glared at him from across the river. The dead-white eyes skewered him, holding him in place entirely against his will, while the wyrsa’s lip lifted in a silent snarl. The eyes glowed faintly, and his thoughts slowed to a sluggish crawl.

Tad felt exactly like a bird caught within striking distance of a snake; unable to move even to save his own life. It was a horrible feeling of cold dread, one that made his extremities feel icy. At just that moment, Blade stepped between them, and leveled a malevolent glare of her own at the pack-leader. In a calm, clear voice, she suggested that the wyrsa in question could do several highly improbable, athletically difficult, and possibly biologically impractical things involving its own mother, a few household implements, and a dead fish.

Tad blinked as his mind came back to life again when the wyrsa took its eyes off him. He’d had no idea Blade’s education had been that liberal!

The wyrsa might not have understood the words, but the tone was unmistakable. It reared back as if it were going to accept the implied challenge by leaping across the river—or leaping into it and swimming across—and Blade let another stone fly from her sling.

This one cracked the pack-leader across the muzzle, breaking a tooth with a wet snap. The creature made that strange noise of hiss and yelp that Tad had heard the night one got caught in his deadfall. It whirled and turned on the others, driving them away in front of it with a ragged squeal, and a heartbeat later, the river-bank was empty.

Blade tucked her sling back into her pocket, and rubbed her bad shoulder thoughtfully. “I don’t know if that was a good idea, or a bad one. We aren’t going to be able to turn them against each other again. But at least they know now that we have something that can hit them from a distance besides magic.”

“And you certainly made an impression on the leader,” Tad observed, cocking his head to one side.

She smiled faintly. “Just making it clear which of us is the meanest bitch in the valley,” she replied lightly. “Or hadn’t you noticed the leader was female?”

“Uh, actually, no. I hadn’t.” He felt his nares flush with chagrin at being so caught in the creature’s spell that he had completely missed something so obvious. “She’s really not my type.”

Her grin widened. “Makes me wonder if the reason she’s keeping the pack here has less to do with the fact that we killed one of her pups, than it does with her infatuation with you. Or rather, with your magnificent . . . physique.” Her eyes twinkled wickedly.

Whether or not she realizes it, she’s definitely recovering. But I wonder if I ought to break something else, just for the sake of a little peace?

He coughed. “I think not,” he replied, flushing further with embarrassment.

“Oh, no?” But Blade let it drop; this was hardly the time and place to skewer him with further wit, although when they got out of this, he had the feeling that she would not have forgotten this incident or her own implications. “You know,” she continued, “if we had even a chance of picking her off, the pack might lose its cohesiveness. At the very least, they’d be spending as much time squabbling over the leadership position as stalking us.”

He scratched the side of his head thoughtfully. She had a good point. “We have to be able to see them to pick one particular wyrsa,” he pointed out. “And traps and rockfalls are likely to get the least experienced, not the most. But it does account for why they’re being so persistent and tenacious.”

“Uh-huh. We got one of her babies, probably.” Blade sank down on the stone floor of the cave, and watched the underbrush across the river. He turned his attention in that direction himself, and was rewarded by the slight movement of a bit of brush. Since there wasn’t a breeze at the moment, he concentrated on that spot, and was able to make out a flash of dark, shiny hide before the creature moved again.

“Interesting.” Blade chewed on a nail, and regarded the brush with narrowed eyes. “I don’t think we’re going to see them out in the open again. They learn quickly.”

That quickly? That was impressive; but he called to mind what Aubri had told him