away from him, trying to figure out how badly he had been hurt.
Although that was somewhat confused, Elspeth had no trouble figuring out which 'he' Gwena meant
Vree bobbed his head once, then nibbled Darkwind's finger, spread his wings, and flapped heavily off into the darkness again.
'Just stay with me,' she said aloud, fiercely, starting with that hand to check for broken bones, since it was the piece of him least likely to cause problems if she accidentally moved it. Or held it. 'Don't pass out on me.'
'Stop that!' she snapped, still rubbing away tears. 'Stay awake, stop fading! Or - or I'll tell you Hawkbrother jokes! How many Hawkbrothers does it take for a mating circle?'
'Only one, but he has to be flexible!'
When Skif arrived, he brought Nyara and Need with him, and his expression betrayed his relief at finding the situation nowhere near as desperate as he had feared from Gwena's weak Mindcall. He told Elspeth that he'd seen worse injuries than Darkwind's out in the field, when miners or builders had been trapped under collapsing walls. Darkwind would not only live, he would do so with all organs and limbs intact....
That gave her some measure of comfort and calmed her shattered nerves a little. And although at some point she would be mad with impatience to hear his side of the story, and the confrontation with Falconsbane, at the moment there was enough on her plate to worry about. They still had to get out of here.
They laid Need down beside Darkwind with his hand on the hilt - she complaining the whole time that she had done enough Healing for one day - and carefully lifted the last of the stones from Darkwind's back and legs. By the time they finished, people were drifting back into the palace, and coming to stare curiously at the wreckage in the room.
But Elspeth and Darkwind still wore their purloined uniforms, and when Elspeth turned and barked 'Out!' at the onlookers, they quickly found something else to do.
They limped their way out of the building without being stopped, carrying Darkwind on the map that had saved him, using it as a stretcher. Skif did pause long enough to look down at Hulda and make a tsfang sound.
'A knife,' he sighed. 'How - predictable.'
She thought about hitting him, but she was just too weary - mentally, emotionally, and physically.
He reached down for the offending object, cleaning it on his none-too-clean sleeve and handed it back to her. 'Where's the other one?' he asked, as she slipped it into her arm sheath and pulled her sleeve back down over it.
'In the throat of the Eastern Envoy - who is, I suppose, back in his Master's domain,' she replied. 'He was building a Gate, I got him with the knife, and he fell through it.'
Another curious onlooker peeked in the door but vanished before she could even snarl at him.
'Falling dead, with a knife bearing the crest of Valdemar on the pommel-nut,' he said dryly. 'Very subtle, Elspeth. Couldn't you have sent a more direct message to the Emperor? Like, perhaps, 'Your father won the Horse Faire. Your mother tracks rabbits by scent. Love and kisses, Elspeth of Valdemar.''
A bit of the ceiling dropped, breaking the silence, followed by the sound of someone picking his way across the floor upstairs. She growled at him, at the end of her patience. 'I didn't exactly have much choice,' she pointed out. 'And if we're going to get out of here before someone names us the assassins of the King, we'd better move now!'
