But maybe that was all kind of the last gasp-maybe things have settled down. Maybe Father's right.
But when he considered that possibility, all his instincts revolted.
Yes, but what if I just feel that way because if Father is right, it means that I am wrong? at if I am wrong, what does it matter? Other than if I'm wrong, Father will never let me forget it...He stopped for a moment, hearing a thudding sound-then realized it was only a hare drumming alarm, hind foot beating against the ground to alert the rest of his warren-probably at the sight of Vree.
Is it just that I can't admit that sometimes he might be right?
On the other hand, there was a feeling deep inside, connected, he now realized, with the mage-senses he seldom used, that Starblade was wrong, dead wrong. A Heartstone that badly damaged could not Heal itself, it could only get worse. And this calm they were experiencing was just a pause before things degenerated to another level.
I guess I'll enjoy it while it lasts, and stay out of the Vale as much as possible.
He sent another inquiring thought at Vree, but the gyre had no more to report than the last time.
It was very tempting to cut everything short and go to see how Nyara was doing. So tempting, that he fought against the impulse stubbornly, determined to see his patrol properly done. It might make up for the other days he had neglected it.
Not really neglected it-there were the dyheli, and then Nyara.
His efforts at appeasing his conscience came to nothing. It still wasn't done. And if I hadn't been very lucky, things could easily have slipped in.
He no longer worried that these temptations were caused by anything other than his own selfish desire to spend more time with the Changechild.
Nyara was good company, in a peculiar way. She was interested in what he had to say and just as interesting to listen to.
At least I can appease my conscience with the fact that I'm learning something about our enemy.
She was also as incredibly attractive as she had been the first time he'd seen her. If he had been a less honorable man, her problematic virtue wouldn't have stood a chance. Which led him to revise his earlier assumptions; to think that she wasn't in control of that part of herself. She might even be completely unaware of it.
That would fit the profile of her master.
Mornelithe Falconsbane would not have wanted her in control of anything having to do with sexual attraction; he would have wanted to pull the strings there. Which was one reason why Darkwind had continued to resist letting her lure him to her bed. He had no prejudice against her, but he was not sure what would happen, what little traps had been set up in her makeup, that a sexual encounter would trigger.
That would fit Falconsbane's profile, too. Make her a kind of walking, breathing trap that only he could disarm. So anyone meddling with the master's " would find himself punished by the thing he thought to enjoy.
With a set of claws-and sharp, pointed teeth-like she had, he didn't think he was in any hurry to find out if his speculations were true, either.
Darkwind was not about to risk laceration or worse in a passionate embrace with her.
He was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost missed the boundary marker, the blaze that marked the end of his patrol range and the beginning of Dawnfire's. He glanced at the sun, piercing through the trees, but near the horizon; it was time for Thundersnow to take over for him.
And if he hurried, he would have a chance to chat with Nyara before he went to the council meeting.
He was already on the path to the hertasi village before the thought was half finished.
"I think this is the best chance I'm going to have; things have been so quiet, they can't blame disturbances on your presence. So I'm going to tell the Council about you, and put your request to them," he told her as they both soaked up the last of the afternoon's heat on the top of the bluff.
She didn't answer at first; just turned on her back and stretched, lithe and sensuous-and seemed just as innocent of the effect it had on him as a kitten. She wasn't even watching him, she was watching a butterfly a few feet away from them.
That didn't stop his loins from tightening, or keep a surge of pure, unmixed lust from washing over him, making it difficult to think clearly for a moment.
He sought relief in analyzing the effect. that sexual impact she has can't be under conscious control. She couldn't fake the kind of nonchalance she's got right now.
"When?" she asked, yawning delicately. "Is it tonight, this meeting?"
He nodded; he'd explained to her the need to wait until a regular meeting so that her appearance would seem a little more routine. She'd agreed-both to his reasons and to the need to wait.
But in fact, his real reasons were just a little different. He'd put off explaining what had happened in its entirety until he wouldn't have to face his father alone. Starblade in the presence of the rest of the Elders was a little easier to deal with than Starblade in the privacy of his own ekele, where he could rant and shout and ignore anything Darkwind said-and he tended not to take quite so much of his son's hide in public, where there were witnesses both to his behavior and to what Darkwind told him.
"It is well," Nyara purred, satisfaction brimming in her tone. She blinked sleepily at Darkwind, her eyes heavy-lidded, the pupils the merest slits. "Though I still cannot travel, should they grant me leave. You will say that, yes?"
"Don't worry," he replied, "I'm going to make that very clear." In fact, that was one of the points he figured he had in his favor; Nyara obviously could not move far or fast, and he wanted to have a reason for why he had left her with the hertasi, instead of putting her under a different guardian. "More competent," Starblade would undoubtedly say. "]Less sympathetic," was what he would mean.
And if worse came to worst, he wanted to have a reason for continuing to leave her here, instead of putting her with a watcher of Starblade's choice.
"You still seem fairly weak to me," he continued, "and Nera's Healer seems to think it's a very good idea for you to stay with us until those cracked bones of yours have a chance to heal a bit more. And that reminds me; have you had any problems with the hertasi?"
"Have they complained of me?" she snapped sharply, twisting her head around to cast him a look full of suspicion.
He was taken a little aback. "Why, no-it's just that I wanted to make certain you were getting along all right. If there was any friction, I could move you-maybe to the ruins where the gryphons are. It's pretty quiet there-~,-"
"No, no!" she interrupted, her voice rising, as if she were alarmed.
Then, before he could react, she smiled. "Your pardon, I did not mean that the way it may have sounded. Treyvan and Hydona are wonderful, and I like them a great deal-as I expected to like anything Mornelithe hated. I learned early that whatever thwarted him he hated-and that what he hated, I should be prepared to find good."
"He knows about Treyvan and Hydona-"
"No, no, no," she interrupted again, hastily. "I am saying things badly today. No, it is only gryphons in general that he hates. As he hates Birdkin, so I was prepared to like you. He never told me why."