Winds Of Fury

And Nyara had taken his hand in a most unmistakably possessive manner. With her other hand, she drew Need from her sheath. Need rasped on. When she insulted Skif's sexual prowess, Nyara pitched the sword away with a hiss.

Skif held Nyara closer. She glared at the discarded sword.

:Well, I've tried to shake you before, but this is going to be the last time,: the sword said, sounding pleased :If I can't rattle your faith in each other, no one can.:

:Exactly so, you crafty woman,: Stefen replied :You see, Skif? If her heart doesn't lie with you, then I know nothing of the heart - and as a Bard that has been my special study for a long time. And Nyara - he trusts you enough to allow you to fight your own battle and win, even when he is the target. Love is as much trust as it is devotion.:

Nyara's face relaxed, then she snorted a tension-breaking laugh and picked up Need. 'You fooled me again, you chunk of lead. But - I was not perfectly ????--missing--

Skif smiled. Life was very, very good at the moment.

:Oh, there is no such thing as perfection, or a 'perfect' love - Van and I still argue and even become angry with each other,: Stefen countered :It annoys the birds and small animals to no end when we do. I doubt there is even perfection in the Havens. Wouldn't perfection be a bore?:

:Build on what you have, children,: Need said gruffly :The foundation is a good one, so now see what kind of a house you can raise. And don't worry if the windows aren't the right size, the door is too tall, or there's dust on the mantelpiece. Just make sure the walls and the ceiling are sound, and make certain your home holds laughter. The dust will take care of itself.:

'I think we can do that,' Skif told Need, feeling much better about the entire relationship than he ever had before. 'We'll certainly try.' He squeezed Nyara's hand, not noticing the claws. 'And we'll succeed. Won't we?' he finished, looking into her eyes. 'Oh, yes,' she answered, smiling. 'I know we will.'

 Treyvan curled his tail around his haunches and waited beside the cave for his mate. He needed to have a discussion with her that he did not want anyone to overhear. Especially not certain interfering spirits....

It had been two days since their unexpected arrival in the Forest of Sorrows. The gryphlets had taken it all in stride, as they always did, and found excuses to chase things and chew on them at every opportunity. Rris had been as faithful as a hertasi and infinitely patient. Firesong had apparently come to grips with his changing status - that is, not being fawned over - and his dyheli companion remained nonplussed. And Vree - well, Vree had resumed hunting crest-feathers. Treyvan tolerated that. It was something familiar in an unfamiliar environment.

It had taken that long to make certain everything was ready for the Gate to go up - and for Vanyel's protective spells to corne down. When the moment came, it would feel to the gryphons like the magical equivalent of a change in air pressure before a storm, then all would be calm. Valdemar had been alerted, and there would be an escort waiting for Elspeth and her friends at the terminus of the Gate.

That would be at the entrance to the family chapel at Ashkevron Manor. It was the only place still standing intact that Vanyel knew well enough to make into a Gate-terminus. The chapel in Companion's Field was a ruin, and Elspeth could not honestly assure him that the Palace still looked the way it had when he was still alive. Doors had been sealed up, new doors had been cut - trim and decorations had been added and taken away.

But nothing ever changed in the core building of the Ashkevron home. Elspeth had told them all she recalled hearing some of the family actually boasting about just that. There was even a story that if anyone ever did anything besides add to the buildings, the ghost of some long-dead ancestor would rise out of the grave to haunt the one who dared change what he had wrought.

Firesong had been of two minds about going on with Elspeth, until Vanyel had brought out an argument the spirit had held in reserve. It had been on the afternoon of the first day, when the Hawkbrother had said, dubiously, 'It is all very well for Darkwind to follow Elspeth into her land, but what ties have I to such a place? Especially when I have duties elsewhere. And while it is true enough that I have experience with a living Heartstone, well, so does Darkwind. He knew enough before he became a scout to be counted among the Adepts.'

Vanyel had nodded, acknowledging the truth of that. But then he had countered that argument :It is the duty of the Tayledras to heal places where magic has gone wrong,: he pointed out :And that is doubly the duty of a Healing Adept, such as you. True?:

'True enough,' Firesong had replied, warily.

:Well, then, is it not the duty of a Tayledras Healing Adept to prevent the misuse of magic that could poison the earth?:

'I - ' Firesong had begun, even more warily. 'I suppose so - '

:Then what of the consequences if the Heartstone beneath Haven fell into the hands of Ancar and his mages? What if its power were to be mismanaged through ignorance? Isn't it the duty of a Healing Adept to be as concerned with prevention as with results? Shouldn't, in fact, a Healing Adept be more concerned with prevention?: Vanyel had simply looked at Firesong, as a teacher looks at a student who has failed to study.