He had said only that his own master had asked him to remain with k'sheyna "because it is important." Whatever it was, it couldn't have anything to do with what Falconsbane had done to the Clan-Darkwind and Kethra were tending to that.
Could it be because of what had happened to Dawnfire the memory was so vividly etched in her mind she had only to think of the hawk Dawnfire to relive what she'd seen.
The Shin'a'in stood in a rough circle below Dawnfire's perch. the red shouldered hawk had taken a position just above the door of the gryphons lair, her head up and into the wind, her wings slightly mantled. then one the Shin'a'in, a woman, put her hand up to the hawk.
Dawnfire stared measuringly at her for a moment, then stepped down from her perch onto the proffered wrist. The woman turned to face the rest.
Like all the other Shin'a'in who had come to their rescue, this one was clad entirely in black, from her long black hair to her black armor, to her black boots. But there was something wrong with her eyes. Something odd.
Elspeth had sensed a kind of contained power about her; the stirrings of a kind of deeply-running energy she had never felt before.
The woman raised Dawnfire high above her head and held her there, a Position that should have been a torment after only a few moments, no matter how strong she was. Tayledras hawks were the size and weight of small eagles, and Dawnfire was by no means the smallest of the kind. But as the woman continued to hold Dawnfire aloft, the entire group began to hum softly at first, then as the volume increased, and as the ruins rang with harmonics, Dawnfire started glowing.
At first Elspeth had thought it was just a trick of the setting sun, but the light about the bird grew brighter instead of fading. then Dawnfire spread her wings and grew larger as well as brighter.
Before long, Elspeth couldn't even look at her directly; she had averted her eyes, for the light from the hawk was bright enough to cast shadows.
Kra'heera had looked at her and said, "Dawnfire has been chosen by the warrior." She hadn't known what that meant then. She did now. when the light and sound had faded, and she was able to look at the bird again, she saw that it was no longer a red-shouldered hawk. It was a vorcel hawk, the emblem of Kra'heera's Clan, and the largest such bird she had ever seen. Although the light had dimmed, it had not died, and there was an otherworldly look in the hawk's eyes that had made her start with surprise.
It was the same look as in the eyes of the female warrior who held her their eyes held neither whites, iris, or pupils-only a darkness, sprinkled with sparks of light that were visible even where Elspeth stood. As if instead of eyes, they had fields of stars.
That was when she had remembered the description of the Shin'a'in Goddess-and had realized exactly what she was looking at. Small wonder the memory was as vivid as it was; it wasn't every day an ordinary mortal saw a living Goddess and her Avatar.
She eyed Tre'valen with speculation. No matter how casually the elder shaman had treated the event afterward, she wondered if he hadn't been just as surprised as everyone else by the appearance of his Goddess.
From what little she understood, change came to the Plains seldom and slowly. When Kerowyn had regaled them with tales of her Shin'a'in cousins, had she ever said anything about their Goddess creating Avatars?
Elspeth didn't remember anything like that...
So maybe this was something new for them. Maybe that was why Tre'valen was here; to watch for Dawnfires and to try and figure out the reasons behind his Goddess' actions.
Well, if that was the case, he must have told the Hawkbrothers, or at least their leaders. On the surface none of this seemed to have anything to do with her-but Elspeth didn't take anything for granted anymore.
After all, why should the Shin'a'in have shown up at all then? Who could have predicted she'd get involved with the Tayledras, and wind up adding their enemies to her own rather formidable list? I ought to ask him later if I'm right about all that. Maybe we can help each other out.
Gwena walked to the entrance of the cave and looked out-impatiently, Elspeth thought. Her Mindspoken words to her Chosen confirmed that. "I wish I knew what it was they were spending so much time doing in there," she said. "They've certainly been keeping us cooling our heels long enough.
At this rate, that ceremony of theirs won't be over until dark." Elspeth wondered why she was so impatient-the Companions weren't the ones being sworn in, even though they wouldn't be permitted in the Vale until the Heralds were. Evidently, by common consensus, the Tayledras regarded the Companions as creatures that simply didn't require oaths to hold them.
Hmm. That requires thought. Do they think Gwena is some kind of Avatar herself? The idea was kind of funny. If they ever listened to her moaning and griping they'd soon lose that particular Illusion! I rather doubt Gwena's hiding that kind of secret.
Not that she hadn't been hiding other kinds of secrets. This "plan" for Elspeth's future that the Companions had been plotting, for one.
And there were others...Shortly after Nyara had vanished, taking Need with her, Elspeth noticed that Gwena was missing. Worried about her-since Gwena had been injured in the fight with Falconsbane's mage-beasts-she had tried to find her Companion, and when she failed, tried to Mindtouch her.
When that failed, she had been alarmed and had gone looking for her.
Gwena had been perfectly all right-but she'd been locked in a self-induced trance, shielded even against the prying of Elspeth's thoughts.
And when she'd come out of it, she'd been very unhappy to find her Chosen standing there, tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for an answer.
Under pressure from both Elspeth and Skif, she reluctantly admitted that she had been in contact with another Companion in Valdemar all during this journey. Elspeth had expected that Companion to be her mother's-and had been both surprised and relieved to find that it was actually Rolan, the Companion of the Queen's Own Herald, Talia.
Then she had been annoyed, though she hadn't made much of an issue about it. She hadn't known that Companions could relay messages that far-and so far as she was aware, no one knew that little fact. Was it just Gwena and Rolan, or could others do it, too) One way or the other, it was one more thing that the Companions had been hiding. So how much more could they do that they hadn't revealed?
Gwena had said crossly that Elspeth should have expected that "arrangements would be made." And Elspeth had been forced to agree.
After all, she was the Heir, and she'd been allowed to go haring off into the unknown with only one Herald to guard her back. For all that she'd managed to get complete agreement from the Council and Heraldic Circle, it was still rather irresponsible. If Queen Selenay had not had a way to get news about her errant offspring, she'd likely have had strong hysterics before a month was out. Especially after Elspeth departed from the agreed-upon itinerary, and "vanished" into the Dhorisha Plains.
Still, she hadn't much liked the idea that little reports on her progress were being sent back home, as if she was some kind of child on her first outing without Mama.
On the other hand, Gwena had told them, when Elspeth pressed her for exactly what she'd been telling Rolan, that the "reports" she'd been sending Rolan were edited. "Heavily edited," in fact, was what the Companion had said, rather glumly. Which was just as well. If Selenay had the smallest inkling just how much danger Elspeth and Skif had gotten themselves into-She'd have found a way to haul me back, that's what she'd have done, and Plunked me down in nice safe embroidery classes for the rest of my natural life.