She discovered a single singer, a woman in silvery-gray, slender as a birch tree, playing a huge diamond-shaped wire-strung harp. There were a half dozen of the mages listening to her, sitting on benches arranged in a half-circle around her, and Elspeth stayed through three songs before moving on.
She found her way back to the original clearing. By now the gryphlets were sound asleep, oblivious to all the light and movement and the sounds of conversation around them. Both Companions were still there, with that relaxed attitude and cheerful, ears-up, tail-switching pose that told her they were enjoying themselves. Their conversational partners were Torrl, the kyree, two of the mages, one of the scouts, and an old hertasi. Seeing them, she relaxed as well, since they were enjoying themselves.
As she wandered off again, it occurred to her that this was the one thing that was often missing from parties that the Heralds held-Dirk and Talia's wedding had included the Companions, but all too often, they were left out of things. As she watched Gwena and Cymry, she made a mental note; when she got home again, that was one thing that would change. She'd find a way to make certain they weren't left out again. They were as responsible for the success of the Heralds as the Heralds themselves. Surely they deserved that much consideration.
Gwena turned around at that moment and gave her an unmistakable wink before returning to her conversation.
Even if they do snoop in our heads.
But she was Smiling as she chose another path, not looking for anything in particular, but thinking that a swim might be nice. she heard water trickling, off to one side, and someone giggling; she didn't really stop to think, she just started to make her way down the little path. , Suddenly Darkwind slipped in front of her, stopping her before she could part the branches that shielded the end of the path. "Pardon," he said apologetically. "The marker beside the path-it was turned to face red. It means that-" The giggling changed to an umnistakable gasp of pleasure. Elspeth found herself blushing. "Never mind," she whispered, backing up hastily." I think I have a good idea what it means." She turned, and started back toward the clearing; Darkwind intercepted her again. "oh, no," he said earnestly. "No, if they had not wanted to be disturbed, the marker would have been blue. No, the red marker means that they would welcome-ah-all other-" he coughed participants- 5 y She blushed even deeper; her ears and cheeks aflame. She'd always been told that the Heralds were uninhibited. brothers had even fewer inhibitions. at the Hawkit seemed th III thought perhaps no one had warned you)" he continued. "If, perhaps, you might want to enjoy one of the hot springs, I can take you to one where there is nothing more active than hot water." What else could she do but accept gracefully, and hope that by the time they reached this spring, her blushes would have cooled?
A curtain of steam announced the location of the spring, but when Darkwind pulled aside the branches at the entrance and waved her into the area around the pool, she found herself flushing all over again. There were about ten of the Hawkbrothers she remembered seeing at the dancing, all soaking muscles that must certainly be complaining, but they weren't wearing much except hair.
"Darkwind!" one of them hailed. "Fifteen split-jumps! Beat that, if you can.
"oh, yes," the young woman next to him said mockingly. "Fifteen split-jumps indeed-and now you see him soaking here, because he could scarce walk when he completed the fifteenth!"
"Sunfeather!" the young man exclaimed indignantly, "You weren't supposed to tell him that!" Darkwind peeled off his tunic, as Elspeth averted her eyes and slowly took off her boots. "Perhaps you should think less about split~-jumps, and more about what Sunfeather's expectations for the evening were before you tried to displace your hipjoints," he suggested mildly. "Then you might have the answer as to why she revealed your secret." As the rest of the Tayledras teased the discomfited dancer, Darkwind removed the rest of his clothing and slid into the water beside Sunfeather.
The spring-fed pool was quite a large one; the dozen Tayledras were scattered about the edge of it, each one of them lounging at full length, and they were hardly taking up more room than a dozen peas in one of the Collegium kitchen's biggest pots.
The analogy to a pot was a lot more apt than she had thought; when she finally got up enough courage to shed the rest of her clothing, she slid into an unoccupied niche. The hot spring was a good deal hotter than she had thought; not quite painful, but not far from it.
Steam rose about her face and turned her hair limp, but after a moment she stopped thinking she was about to have her hide boiled off, and began to enjoy the heat.
She slipped out again, after a relatively short time; she was not used to turning herself into a scalded turnip. Much to her surprise, someone-perhaps one of the ubiquitous and near-invisible hertasi-had left a towel and robe beside her clothing.
For the rest of the evening, she alternated between the larger clearing, and the one the scouts had taken for their dancing. One of the mages treated the group to a guided flight of befriended firebirds-like the fireworks displays at home, except that these fireworks didn't fade or die. Gwena loved every moment of it, although Elspeth would have liked to have seen the firebirds come closer. The demonstration was very impressive, especially when they flew among the branches of the huge, shadow-shrouded tree. That wouldn't have been possible with real fireworks.
She lost track of time, wandering around the Vale, as fatigue caught up with her and her nerves relaxed. Finally she found herself back beneath the tree; most of the lights hanging from the balcony had been extinguished, but there were more people, human and not.
They were all "people" to her now, after an evening of trading jokes with hertasi, commiserating with tervardi on the likelihood of a bad winter, and telling the dyheli exactly what had happened to Nyara. So far as the dyheli were concerned, Nyara was still their heroine. She hadn't known that their entrapment had been a set-up by her father, to ensure that the k'sheyna would look on her favorably. She had acted in the belief that she was saving them. They knew that, and honored her for it.
So the facts of her disappearance were of great interest to them; they promised Elspeth that they would watch for signs of the Changechild, and report anything they learned back to the Tayledras scouts.
All but the most die-hard of dancers had given up by now; Elspeth found herself a seat in the shadows. Tre'valen was the center of a cluster of the scouts, who were trying to persuade him to dance. Finally he shook his head, shrugged, and gestured to the musicians. "Hawk Dance?" Iceshadow called back.
Tre'valen laughed. "Indeed!" he said, taking a stand in the middle of the illuminated area. "What else would I do for you) But only on condition that Darkwind follow with a Wind Dance." Elspeth hadn't seen Darkwind before Tre'valen called out his name, but when he waved agreement from across the clearing, she saw that he had stripped off the fancier overtunic, and now looked more like the Darkwind she knew, in a deep-cut sleeveless jerkin and tight breeches, his only ornaments the feathers in his hair.
Tre'valen had changed after the ceremony into his Shin'a'in finery of scarlet, black, and gold; embroidered vest with fringe to his knees, fringed and belied armbands. Loose breeches with fringed kneeboots, all of it topped with a horsehair and feather headdress like some strange bird's crest-he was a striking sight.