his tail, ambled closer to Vidarian, pressing close to his legs for warmth. He trembled in bursts. Vidarian picked him up, and, when he didn't resist, tucked him into his shirt.
The frustrated stream of invective Ruby directed at him was in neither High Alorean nor trade-tongue. He thought it was some sort of southwest islander language but wasn't sure. “You know I don't understand any of that.”
* H'salu nikkti kreshaluk. Kreshaluk. *
“I didn't even know you knew one of those languages. That's not Malu, is it?” Much as he wouldn't like to admit it, arguing with Ruby was shaking loose the hold of the dark thoughts on his mind, of Ariadel's rejection. The pup shifted, curling himself up against Vidarian's chest, and despite the rain and his aching muscles, Vidarian felt something close to contentment for the first time in a long time. He even enjoyed Ruby's frustration, if a little guiltily.
Halfway back to the camp, * What's its name? * she said finally, after her vocabulary in that tongue had worn out. At least she hadn't switched to another one he couldn't understand.
“Haven't decided yet. I take it you're not mad at me anymore?”
* I've decided he's your problem. If he zaps you—and he will—or he bites someone, or he eats one of the seridi, it's your hide, not mine. I'm just along for the ride— *
“I appreciate that—”
* —Even if you do any number of things that are totally, completely, ridiculously inadvisable. I am deciding to be entertained. *
They broke then into the clearing and the camp, where Altair had again erected his shield of air to block out the rain. The droplets formed a silver ceiling that magnified the pale moonlight above them.
Altair and Isri both stood from where they'd been warming themselves near a freshly crackling fire, and Vidarian strode straight to it, thinking more of the still shivering pup than himself. The dead thornwolves, thankfully, were all gone.
Isri radiated relief at him. “I sensed a commotion, intense worry—oh!” She cut off in a squeak as Vidarian pulled the pup from beneath his shirt.
Altair reared back, the feathers around his neck flaring. The pup yipped, terrified, then immediately growled, stiffening the fur along his spine. A crackle of electricity radiated out from the lifted proto-spines, but Vidarian managed to hold onto him.
// That creature is dangerous, // Altair said, and he returned his formidable talons to the ground, but the roused feathers of his neck and head still made him seem twice his actual size. // Thornwolves are— //
“Vicious and destructive—”
* I tried to tell him. *
“—I know.”
// Why did you not destroy this one, then? // The gryphon's large, sapphire eyes were flared wide, and all-pupil with alarm.
“Because he's not a thornwolf. At least, not entirely.” He soothed the pup with a murmur, then lifted him, squirming, toward Altair. As the pup's alarm peaked again, he discharged another crackle of electricity, but the pulses seemed to be getting weaker the more he used them. “But mainly,” Vidarian added, “we're the reason he's on his own. I'm all he has.”
Altair eyed the pup, about to argue, but a figure came hurtling down through the ceiling of rain overhead.
The dark-feathered shape landed lightly beside the fire, too small to be a gryphon. As she stood, revealing herself to be a seridi, she bowed to Isri, and then to Vidarian and Altair.
The seridi ruffled her feathers, shaking free droplets of water. She either did not recognize the pup for what he was, or was too preoccupied with her mission, or both. “Lord Tesseract,” she began, and Vidarian squelched his still-irate reaction to the title, “a messenger waits for you at the foothills.”
“Who could send a messenger this far?”
“He claims to be from your human emperor, my lord. We were told you would wish to know of his arrival.” She read Vidarian's startlement as affront and her facial feathers lifted with embarrassment. “I apologize if our assumption was incorrect.”
“No, no, you're quite correct,” Vidarian said, managing to summon back some of his diplomacy. “I'll be along as soon as I can.” He looked at Isri. “Can they manage a ride in the ship?” he indicated the two sedated seridi with a nod.
“I believe so,” she replied, closing her eyes for a few moments and then opening them again. “If we travel by night they'll take the journey easier.”
“I'll convey your response,” the messenger said, and Vidarian realized he didn't even know her name. But she was bowing again, and