Page 83 of Gryphon in Light

“Why think they were weak?” Snowfire asked. “They hit hard at the shields.”

:We looked at them as attacking the shield, but what if they were trying to escape it? If they were very weak, undetectability could have been a survival instinct, and as I recall, the Mage of Silence was called that because he left no excess energies to be detected.: Jak gazed at the mages in turn, and then the Companion just flatly dropped his opinion on them all.

:I believe they were, inasmuch as they were here at all, of demonic origin. It is possible they did not even intend to kill Uglik, but were attempting a possession.:

Firesong’s eyes shone a little more wetly despite the simple mask he wore. “There’s some merit to that. A lower other-planar could appear to be smoke, because in our world it might not even have what we would term a physical body. They saw the concern we all had for each other, so possessing someone would be a reasonable way to take refuge, since we wouldn’t likely strike at their victim.”

Snowfire said out loud, looking up and around the drizzling perimeter, what everybody there would have been just fine with not hearing at all. “Makes me wonder how much of this haze isn’t actually rain.”

Hisses and groans from more than one person snapped back, then there were more when Firesong added, “Weatherwork on this scale is not unknown to history. ‘How do you hide a red fish,’ the saying goes, ‘except in a pond of red fish?’”

:They were the color of storm clouds. That’s an unpleasant thought in pretty much every possible way, thanks,: Jak interjected. :An invasion nobody sees coming because everyone wants to stay inside from the rain. But if the center of Evendim is what the Gods believe it may be, the normal layering of planes could be splintering and lower beings could reach higher. The inverse, too—there could be divine beings caught up in it.:

Mercifully, the Companion did not say what a few of them immediately thought: If extraplanar divine beings couldn’t escape it, in theory, neither could gods.

Kel could scarcely believe how much better he felt after a single candlemark up in the sky above the ever-present clouds, with the sunrise at his back and a beautiful blue sky overhead. He’d really gotten the hang of energy manipulation now, and it was immensely satisfying to feel every wingbeat feeding that hungry, depleted Heartstone on his breastplate. The last three days had been melancholy, to say the least. Between everyone mourning for Uglik, their lack of answers about the smoke creatures, and the damned rain, what should have been a good, solid rest had been marred by depression and gloom.

But now, with Nightwind’s blessing, he was finally back in the sky where he belonged. And to his right flew the beauteous Daria . . .

Unfortunately, to his left flew the . . . well, Torandi was anything but homely, but Torandi was not the gryphon who made his heart beat faster, and he would certainly rather have been alone up here with Daria.

I might even manage to scrape up enough courage to say something to her.

Alas. Torandi knew how to make Gates. He did not. And the only reason why he was going along and not Daria and Torandi on their own was because of that faintly glowing rock set above his keel.

All three of them had teleson headsets, so at least they didn’t have to shout at each other.

Hurrr. I can control who I speak to. This might not be so bad after all.

:It’s glorious up here,: said Daria through the teleson, and with the words came her feelings—complicated, of course. She was a complex creature. Melancholy she was deliberately trying to cast out of her mind, relief, and the usual euphoria every gryphon felt in the air.

:I think the rain was about to make me go mad,: agreed Torandi. :If it hadn’t been for Jefti, I think I would be growing mold by now!: She cast an anxious glance at her own back and tail. :I’m not growing mold, am I?:

:You’re fine, Tiny,: Daria replied, with—finally!—a twinkle of good humor in her eyes. :Jefti is very good and very thorough.:

:Wait—: said Kel. :Tiny?:

Torandi groaned aloud, loud enough Kel heard her across the distance between them.

It was a perfectly logical nickname, seeing as Torandi was the biggest of the Iftel gryphons along on this journey, and probably bigger than most gryphons in all of Iftel.

:It’s a perfectly nice nickname, Tiny,: Daria pointed out, her wingbeats strong and sure. :No one means anything by it, except as a contrast to how strong and capable you are. You’re the only one of us who’s a district champion, you know.:

:I keep feeling as if someone is teasing me,: came the surprisingly meek admission.

:No one is, Tiny,: Daria replied, and added fiercely, :and if they ever do, I’ll . . . I’ll set Genni on them!:

That was a potent threat. Sweet, even-tempered Genni turned out to have a sharp and fiery tongue when she chose to use it.

:I think it’s a great pet name,: Kel decided to chime in. :It’s easy to shout, it’s fun and funny, and anyone who doesn’t know you will know immediately that you have a fine sense of humor when they hear it.:

:Really?: Despite the wind, Torandi’s ear-tufts pricked up. :You really think so?:

:I do,: he told her firmly. :The Valdemarans have stories about a huge fighter named Tiny. They’re all about how clever he was, how he could do practically anything, and how he always came to the aid of people in trouble. That’s the first thing they’ll think of when they hear the name.: At Daria’s grateful—and encouraging—look, he waxed eloquent on the subject, telling some of the shorter tales, and he felt very grateful that he’d paid attention when the Owlknight had shared those tales around the fire.

When he was done with the second story, he took a long, sideways look at Torandi and saw that she’d lost that slightly hunched look she so often had, as if she had been trying to hide her size. In fact, she was all stretched out in flight, not hiding anything.

:That was very kind,: Daria whispered into his mind.