The White Gryphon

Zhaneel was not convinced, but she said nothing. At least the Black Kings certainly seemed to have a system designed to prevent any more monsters like Kiamvir Ma'ar! There was something to be said for that.

Almost anything that prevented such a madman from getting the kind of power Ma'ar had would be worth bearing with, I think. Almost. And assuming that the system is not fatally flawed.

"Have the priests ever—made a mistake?" she asked, suddenly.

"Have they ever singled out a child who was notflawed for this punishment, you mean?" Makke asked. Then she shook her head. "Not to my knowledge, and I have seen many children go to the temples over the years. Truly, I have never seen one rejected that was not well-rejected. This is not done lightly or often, you know. The one I spoke of? He has no compassion; he uses whomever he meets, with no care for their good or ill. Whilst his mother lived, he used even her for his own gain, manipulating her against her worthier offspring. There are many of lesser caste who have learned of his flawed nature to their sorrow or loss."

Zhaneel chewed a talon thoughtfully.

'There is one other thing," Makke said, this time in a softer and much more reluctant voice. "I had not intended to speak of this, but I believe now perhaps I must, for I see by your face that you find much of what I have said disturbing."

"And that is—?" Zhaneel asked.

Makke lowered her voice still further. "That there is a magic which is more forbidden than any other. I would say nothing of it, except that I fear your people may treat it with great casualness, and if you revealed that, there would be no treaty, not now, and not in the future. Have your people the magic that—that looks into—into minds—and hears the thoughts of others?"

"It might be," Zhaneel said with delicate caution, suddenly now as alert as ever she had been on a scouting mission. All of her hackles prickled as they threatened to rise. There was something odd about that question. "I am not altogether certain what you mean, for I believe our definitions of magic and yours are not quite the same. Why do you ask?"

"Because thatis the magic that is absolutely forbidden to all except the priests, and only then, the priests who are called to special duties by the gods," Makke said firmly. "I do not exaggerate. This is most important."

"Like Leyuet?" Zhaneel asked in surprise. She had not guessed that Truthsayer Leyuet was a priest of any kind. He did not have the look of one, nor did he wear the same kind of clothing as Palisar.

"Yes." Makke turned to look into her eyes and hold her gaze there for a long moment, with the same expression that a human mother would have in admonishing a child she suspects might try something stupid. "This magic is a horror. It is unclean," she said, with absolute conviction. "It allows mortals to look into a place where only the gods should look. Even a Truthsayer looks no farther than to determine the veracity of what is said—only into the soul, which has no words, and not the mind. If your people have it, say nothing. And do notuse it here."

We had better not mention Kechara, ever, to one of these people! And Amberdrake had better be discreet about his own powers!

That was all she could think at just that moment. While Zhaneel tried to digest everything she'd been told, Makke stood, and carefully put the palm fan on the small pile left for the use of visitors. "I must go," she said apologetically. "A certain amount of rest is permitted to one my age, but the work remains to be done, and I would not trust it to the hands of those like that foolish gardener, who would probably think that Jewel and Corvi wish to rend him with their fearsome claws."

Since neither Jewel nor Corvi had anything more than a set of stubby, carefully filed down nails, Zhaneel laughed. Makke smiled and shuffled her way back into their suite.

The gryphlets looked ready to sleep for the rest of the afternoon; not even all that talking disturbed them in the least. Zhaneel settled herself on a new, cooler spot, and lay down again, letting the stone pull some of the dreadful heat out of her body.

She closed her eyes, but sleep had deserted her for the moment. So Makke is an untitled Scholar! No wonder she looks as if she were hiding secrets.Now, more than ever, Zhaneel was glad that she and Gesten had made friends with the old woman. Next to the Silver Veil, it seemed they could not have picked a better informant. That explains why she bothered to learn our language, anyway. She must have been very curious about Silver Veil and the north, and the best way to find out would have been to ask Silver Veil. It must have taken a lot of courage to dare that, though.

But Makke was observant; perhaps she had noticed how kind Silver Veil was to her servants, and had decided that the kestra'chern would not take a few questions amiss.

An amateur scholar would also have been fascinated by the gryphons and the hertasi.Perhaps that was why Makke had responded to the overtures of friendship Zhaneel and Gesten had made toward her.

And when it became painfully evident how naive we were about the Haighlei—Zhaneel smiled to herself. There was a great deal of the maternal in Makke's demeanor toward Zhaneel, and there was no doubt that she thought the twins were utterly adorable, even if they looked nothing like a pair of human babies. Perhaps Makke had decided to adopt them, as a kind of honorary grandmother.

She said, onlydaughter. She could have meant only child as well. And if her child is now a priest—do the Haighlei allow their priests to marry and have children? I don't think so.Zhaneel sighed. I wonder if her daughter is ashamed of Makke; she is only a cleaning woman, after all. For all that most priests preach humility, I never have seen one who particularly enjoyed being humble.If that were the case, Makke could be looking on Zhaneel as a kind of quasi-daughter, too.

I shall have to make certain to ask her advice on the twins. I don't have totake it, after all! And that will make her feel wanted and needed.Zhaneel sighed, and turned so that her left flank was on the cool marble. But the warning about magic— that is very disturbing. Except, of course, that we can't do much magic until the effect of the Cataclysm settles. That might not even be within our lifetimes.

She would warn Skandranon, of course. And he would warn Amberdrake. Zhaneel was not certain how much of what Amberdrake did was magic of the mind, and how much was training and observation, but it would be a good thing for Drake to be very careful at this point. Winterhart, too, although her abilities could not possibly be as strong as Drake's....

Healing. I shall have to ask Makke about Healing. Surely the Haighlei do not forbidthat !

But the one thing they must not mention was the existence of Kechara. If the Haighlei were against the simpler versions of thought-reading, surely they would be horrified by poor little Kechara!

The fact that she is as simple-minded as she is would probably only revolt them further. And sheis misborn; there is no getting around that. It's nothing short of a miracle that she has had as long and as healthy a life as she has. But she is not "normal" and we can't deny that.

So it was better not to say anything about her. It wasn't likely that anyone would ask, after all.

Let me think, though— they may ask how we are communicating so quickly with White Gryphon. So— this evening, Skan should ask permission from King Shalaman and Palisar to "communicate magically" with the rest of the Council back home. Sincethey do that, they shouldn't give Skan any problems about doing the same. He's clever; if they ask him how he can communicate when things are so magically unsettled, he can tell them about the messages we send with birds, or tell them something else that they'll believe, and not be lying. Then, when we get instant answers from home, they won't be surprisedor upset because we didn't ask permission first.