The people were clearly stunned, even after mentally preparing themselves for the Eclipse Ceremony and all that it entailed. "This is the season of changes," he said into that silence. "And let it begin with the King wedding his beloved Silver Veil!"
The crowd went insane, cheering and bouncing in place, waving scarves in the air where there was room to move. Even the guards were smiling!
He had not realized that Silver Veil was so popular with the people—all the more reason to wed her! A King could not do better with his people, if his Consort proved to be a popular Advisor, popular with the people as well as the nobles.
She moved to the position that Winterhart had held during the first half of the ceremony. Winterhart had already fallen modestly back to a new place beside the weary Gryphon King.
Shalaman surveyed his cheering, joyous people, as the sun brightened with every passing moment, and his heart filled with a content he had never expected to experience.
He held up the staff, and they fell silent again, this time in pleasurable expectation.
"Hear, all ye people, the changes that are to come!" he boomed into the stillness. "We shall ally with the people of White Gryphon, who bring us new arts and new beasts, a touch of the new to every part of our land and life. We add another King to the Haighlei, Skandranon, the Black Gryphon. I take as my bride, my Consort, and my Advisor, the Silver Veil. From this day, it will be allowable that a King may choose to wed his kestra'chern."
He continued, enumerating all the changes, great and small, that he and his Advisors had determined would be reasonable and acceptable for the next years. The litany went on, but his real thoughts were elsewhere.
Ihave been given my life by these strangers,he thought, And— I have been given awareness of my true love. What more could they have given me? I will be in debt to them for the rest of my life, but it is a debt I will joyfully strive to repay.
Shalaman felt the supporting presence of his beloved and his friends at his back, and smiled at the crowd. He even smiled at Skandranon's grumbling.
"I hope this is over soon. I'm scheduled to fall down and twitch," the gryphon murmured. "Then I'm due to eat everything in sight and sleep for two days, and then—"
Shalaman stifled a laugh at the explicit description of what the Gryphon King would be doing with his mate Zhaneel. These people of White Gryphon would shock and delight his Court for a long time.
Only one shadow still darkened his joy.
Where was Amberdrake?
Eleven
Amberdrake worked the last of his bonds loose, and stood up, hands and feet still tingling. He wished he could ignore the sensation; the best he could do was to keep from making too much noise about it.
Now— -find those others Hadanelith mentioned. There are probably two; maybe more, but he talked as if there were only two.
If anyone had ever described Amberdrake to his face as a courageous man, he would have laughed. He had never considered bravery to be one of his chief attributes; that was for others, not for him. He was able to recognize bravery when he saw it, but it was never a quality he would have granted to himself. He was often afraid, and knew it, and did not scruple to show it. Not that brave people weren't afraid, but they were able to get beyond their fear to act. Amberdrake knew, in his heart, that fear often paralyzed him.
Thinking on it, he would not have granted himself physicalbravery, the kind of bravery that made Skan and Zhaneel fly off and risk their lives, over and over, as if such risk was no worse than a cold bath on a winter morning.
And right now, he felt as if he were the biggest coward in this whole shattered world. As Skan vanished out of sight, all Amberdrake wanted to do was find somewhere to hide until the whole mess was over. He wished he could find a nice, secure room and lock the door so that no one could get at him. That wouldbe the sensible course, really—what could he expect to accomplish?
There's no way I can just hide when the most powerful and dangerous of our enemies are both here, somewhere, wherever that is. Something has to be done about them. They may be engrossed with whatever magic they're controlling, or they may be confident they've already won, or—
With no real Mindspeaking ability of his own, he would not know whether Skan arrived in time to save the King and Winterhart until long after the fact. The light grew dimmer with every passing heartbeat—and Hadanelith was due to strike at the darkest part of the Eclipse. No one knew he was here except Skandranon and Kechara. Assuming that Kechara wasn't watching Skan, shewould know what was happening on his side of this little battle, but otherwise he was on his own.
And somehow I doubt she'll be able to tear her mind away from her "Papa Skan."
Was this how Skan felt when he went off on one of those famous solitary missions? Lonely—and deserted—and completely terrified?
Not terrified, not Skan. He's been scared, but always confident in himself.
Kechara might be able to call for help if things went wrong and she waswatching him, but that also assumed that she had enough understanding of what she saw to tell the others if Amberdrake was in trouble. She had shown a surprising grasp of abstracts lately, but—well, she was tired, and stressed, and under a great deal of pressure, more than she ever should have had to bear. Little Kechara was more toddler than warrior.
No. I'm on my own here.His insides knotted up as he acknowledged that. Ihave to find those so-called "friends" of Hadanelith's, and I have to neutralize them before they can rescue him. If all that means is that I occupy their attention until he's secured against magic, then that's what I'll do.
That certainly sounded brave enough. He only wished that it was going to be as easy as it sounded.
But they were all running out of time; he'd better find Hadanelith's co-conspirators before the full Eclipse fell!
He gathered up what "weapons" he could find—the ropes he'd been bound with, and a length of metal bar. He picked them all up so quietly that there wasn't even a scrape of metal against the floor, even though he knew objectively that the noise was negligible. At least while he was concentrating on keeping quiet, he could convince his body to move, and not freeze like a frightened tree-hare. He crept toward the door, listening with all his concentration after he made each step. His hands shook so hard he nearly dropped the bar. He closed his eyes and swallowed, willing his hands to stop shaking, but they wouldn't. Finally he reached the doorway; he plastered himself flat against the wall next to the door, and listened again, this time holding his breath.
Nothing. Not even a distant murmur of voices. No matter how thick the walls were, this close to the door he'd surely hear something if there was anyone out there!
Wouldn't he?
Carefully, he reached out to the door handle, and eased the door open a crack, his teeth clenched as he waited for the hinges to groan. That would be just my luck.But the hinges were silent, and he heard nothing, and there was no sign of a guard on the other side.