Crossroads and Other Tales of Valdemar

Kelvren turned his gaze across the city. Citizens, guards, militia, and mercenary alike were coming out of buildings, all lit by the bright path that came from the far distance through the center of the city. Kelvren knew that with the sheer power he’d put into his mage-light spell, the crest of Valdemar would not fade away for a month or more.

He smiled.

Then the gryphon of light soared into the sky, becoming a bright star, and went home.

Captain Hallock Stavern and the Sixteenth Cavalry, three companies of Guard Regulars, and Kerowyn’s Firebolts advanced steadily along the Trade Road. The militia they met offered no noteworthy resistance, and laid down arms almost apologetically. The Herald with the Crown’s forces adjudicated the conditions of surrender, town by town, and left the locals with their pride. The mercenary company hired by Farragur Elm and his cohorts all but disbanded, demoralized by the showy display of magic they could not possibly match.

Kerowyn held her Firebolts back from taking the city. She was of the opinion that it would be damned unseemly for a merc company to take over the city rather than the Crown’s Guard regiments—especially since so much of the troubles had been caused by other mercs.

When the Guards rode in and liberated Deedun, “Chancellor of Prosperity” Farragur Elm and his several of his insurrectionists barricaded themselves in the High Keep. Others guilty of the thefts that financed the power grab were, over time, discovered, arrested, and jailed. In time, Elm himself was dragged, screaming obscenities, from the very tower that Kelvren had marked.

Treyvan conferred with Whitebird and all the mages he knew, still amazed by what had happened. They finally deduced what Kelvren had done. When the power of the Heartstone dissolution surged upward into him, Kelvren Healed himself, but there was too much chaotic raw power, flooding in too quickly. Kelvren used the simplest, but most stable, spell that any mage knew—mage-light—and quelled the chaos of raw power into a tuned current. Instead of ending the spell, as mages normally did when they had enough light, he let it flow through him. The ordeal of having no magic in his body had left his channels and conversion organs needy, and they filled to capacity, then into his bones, then into the feathers themselves. Then with so much free-floating energy in the air, his every movement brought in more.

The road of light was far more than a psychological ploy. The rate he cast it matched the rate the power was absorbed as he flew, and it burned off enough energy for his system to stabilize.

Firesong reported by teleson that Kelvren returned to k’Valdemar the night after his rejuvenation, still as bright as a sunrise. He flew over the Clan fires, Kelmskeep, Errold’s Grove, and the Vale purely for effect.

And so the mill was gradually emptied of officers, and the village was freed from the Guard camp, and trade was reestablished along the great glowing Road. The light faded slowly over the fortnight since Kelvren’s flight, but it wouldn’t leave anyone’s memory anytime soon.

Before long, it was time for Treyvan, Whitebird, Rivenstone and Pena to go back to Haven. They said their good-byes, and with a small bow, Pena gave an oilskinwrapped package to Jeft.

Jeft opened it up, and inside were three gryphon feathers, bound with strips of leather, a folded scrap of paper, and a small leather pouch attached to them. Inside the pouch were six gold coins. His mother read the message.

“Jeft Roald Dunwythie. My friend. If you grow tired of being ‘Boy,’ with this, you will be welcomed into Hawkbrother lands and accepted as our own. Your mother will be welcome also. So speaks Wingleader Kelvren Skothkar of k’Valdemar Vale, Ally of the Crown of Valdemar.”

Ammari felt tears in her eyes, and she hugged her son as strongly as she ever had. They gazed up at the encompassing sky, and listened to the birds together.

And by the end of that month, Captain Hallock Stavern returned triumphantly to Haven, and to the arms of his beloved Genni.

Darkwind handed over a paper slip to Elspeth. “Mmm. Oh this is good. Repercussions from the Kelvren affair. Says here, some mayor demands reparations for the gryphon’s presence in his village. Cites him as a hazard, detrimental to the town’s morale, and an insult to the dignity of his office.”

Elspeth browsed the slip, shrugged, and handed it off to a passing clerk to be handled. “Sounds like a healthy gryphon to me. What’s next?”

THE FEAST OF THE CHILDREN

by Nancy Asire

Nancy Asire is the author of four novels,

Twilight’s Kingdoms, Tears of Time, To Fall Like Stars,

and

Wizard Spawn

. She also has written short stories for the series anthologies

Heroes in Hell

and

Merovingen Nights,

and short stories for Mercedes Lackey’s anthologies

Flights of Fantasy

and

Sun in Glory