Shadows obscured much of the features of the narrow valley through which they journeyed, but the wizard could see gaps high up in the nearest mountainside, caves suitable for great birds but impossible for any man to reach. As if to verify his notions, a vast winged form suddenly darted out of one, disappearing into the neighboring mountains before Tyros could make any identification.
For what seemed another hour, the group traveled. At last Serene led them to a ridge, more a miniature mountain, that took the better part of their remaining strength to ascend.
“How much farther?” the captain finally grumbled.
“We’re nearly there,” was Serene’s only reply.
Sure enough, only a few minutes later the cleric paused in the midst of a clear gap between peaks and planted her staff in the earth. None of her companions at first believed that they had come to the end of their journey, not until she finally announced the fact out loud.
“This is it?” Bakal’s gaze fixed on Serene. “I don’t see anything. I don’t like that.” His men muttered agreement, some keeping their hands by their swords.
“Stay your weapons!” The cleric raised her staff. “This is no trick!”
Having come this far, Tyros did not want to have to turn back to Gwynned empty-handed. “Keep them under control, Captain.” To Serene, he asked, “Where is your friend? The sooner he makes himself known, the sooner things will calm down. Is that not correct, Captain Bakal?”
“That depends on-”
“Is it okay to come out, Serene?” a high-pitched voice suddenly interjected. “I mean, I’ve waited and stayed quiet just like you said, but it’s been an awful long time, and they won’t like waiting.”
Bakal backed away, shaking his head in dismay as the final member of their party emerged from behind a small outcropping. “By the Blue Phoenix!” he sputtered, using the Ergothian title for Habakkuk, god of the sea. “It’s a blasted kender!”
Everyone but Serene reached to protect his personal belongings even though the kender stood some distance away. The size of a half-grown child, he looked harmless enough, with his cheerful, elflike face and long, black hair tied in a topknot. He carried no weapon save a dagger and a sling in his belt and wore simple green traveling clothes. Tyros judged him to be relatively young. Belatedly it occurred to him that the race was favored by Branchala, so it stood to reason that of all humans, a cleric of that god would be able to tolerate the mischievous creatures.
Still, what sort of help with transportation could a kender offer? Tyros would have rather accepted the aid of a gnomish machine.
“Behave, Rapp,” Serene replied quietly. The kender gave her a hug, which she returned with a smile. The cleric rubbed his head with obvious affection. “Now, it wasn’t all that long a wait, was it?”
“No, I suppose not.” Rapp’s eyes said otherwise. Kender were notorious for their short attention spans. Waiting for Serene must have been agonizing for him.
“Let me get this straight,” Bakal snarled. “We’ve come all this way to meet this little thief? You’re the one people said they saw in the city, aren’t you?”
The redheaded woman looked down at her friend. “Did you go into the city after I pleaded with you not to, Rapp?”
“Well, no … not much … but it was only at night! I’m sure no one saw me, or at least only a few …”
“Rapp, what am I going to do with you?” She sighed. “Before we leave, I want to see everything you’ve got in your pockets and pouches, and, yes, I mean everything. If it doesn’t look as if it belongs to you, it goes back to the city. Understood?”
“Yes, Serene, but I don’t think I took anything, although I did notice a few pieces that must’ve fallen in my-”
“Never mind.” Serene looked around, as if seeking something. “How are they doing, Rapp?”
“They’ve fed, Serene! I found them a nice place to hunt fish.” He looked at Tyros, who backed away from the suddenly advancing kender. “They like fish. Did you know that? I never did, but I’ve learned so much from them. My name’s Rapp. What’s yours?”
The anxious spellcaster found himself shaking hands. He pulled his away, checking at the same time to see if Rapp had somehow gotten into his pockets. “Tyros … my name is Tyros.”
“Are you a mage? You must be a mage with a robe like that! Can you do a trick for me?”
“Make him disappear,” Bakal suggested.
The veteran likely regretted speaking, for now Rapp honed in on him. “Can he really do that? I’d like to see that! My name’s Rapp! That’s short for Rappskali-”
“Get your hand out of my tinder pouch!”
Serene tapped the stony earth with her staff. “Rapp! Come here! You’re bothering Captain Bakal!”
“I’m sorry! Was I bothering you? I didn’t mean to!” Mercifully, the spry kender obeyed her, hopping back to her side.
“I’m for leaving,” one of the men in back growled, “before that little cutpurse strips us of everything we have!”
“You’ll stay where you are!” roared their leader. He turned on the cleric. “But if he doesn’t produce transport …”
Tyros could scarcely believe this turn of luck. Had he been made a fool of by this woman? What good was a kender to his quest? Would the creature suddenly sprout wings and carry them?
Serene leaned down, talking kindly to Rapp. “Perhaps you’d better call them now. We haven’t much time, and they need to get used to the men.”
Rapp nodded, then left her side to climb atop the outcropping. He smiled once at Tyros, then looked up and suddenly called out like a wild beast.
“Why’s he spouting like a hawk?” Bakal demanded.
Tyros thought that Rapp’s call ended more like that of a lion or some other great cat, but he could see why the captain had taken it for a bird. He looked around, waiting for something to emerge from the rocks.
From above came a deeper, longer version of the call the kender had made. As one, the humans looked up. All but Serene looked startled. Tyros saw birds, huge birds, leave their mountain roosts and begin to descend.
Only they were not birds.
“Gods!” one of the men shouted. “What are those beasts?”
Tyros looked to Bakal for an answer, but the usually fearless soldier stood speechless and pale. He shook his head over and over, his eyes never leaving the oncoming creatures above.
“I knew I’d seen one!” he finally uttered. “I wasn’t mad! It was a griffon! It was!”
Tyros had heard of the fantastic animals, even studied them as part of his education, but as with the gargoyles, he had never actually seen one before. Now six of them-no, more like eight-descended upon the party, and at a kender’s behest.
Bakal suddenly went into action. “Form a circle! Swords at the ready! Be ready to fight your way out!”
“There’s no need for that!” Serene called. “They won’t harm you! Rapp, tell the children to land!”
The kender nodded, then gave out a cry with slightly different tones than the first. The griffons suddenly swerved and, moments later, alighted around the outcropping. Despite their immense size, they landed gently, then folded their wings.
The animals presented a fantastic combination of two other creatures, the proud eagle and the majestic lion. Their tails, although whiplike, had a shock of feathers at the end. The torso mostly resembled that of the feline, golden-furred and very muscular. However, the legs ended in peculiar talons, like a bird of prey’s, yet more dexterous. The talons could have easily seized a full-sized man and taken him aloft, not a comforting thought.
The griffons stared at the intruders, their heads almost identical to those of a true eagle. Yet the feathers mixed with fur toward the back and under the beak, the latter giving the winged furies a bearded look. Tyros stared at the eyes and saw far more intelligence in them than in most animals. He wondered if the griffons could actually understand what others said.
“That’s our transportation?” Bakal spouted.