By the Silver Wind by Jess E. Owen Page A

raised his voice to the rest of the gryfons and opened his wings, but didn’t fly. Out of respect for the painted wolves, they walked, backing away from the meal, walking along the plain until it seemed polite to take to the air again.
    Shard winged up beside him. “This should be a merry gathering.”
    “I should skin them,” Kjorn growled.
    “They’ll behave better with Asvander close.”
    “They’ll behave better or I’ll see to them myself,” Kjorn muttered, and that was the end of it until nightfall.

    Two modest fires burned in the dark, and Kjorn supposed the wolves would’ve had no trouble finding them even without Mayka leaving to lead them back.
    Brynja and the huntresses had found the same pronghorn herd of Ilesh and his pack, and managed to fell three of them—plenty to feed their company and offer leftover bones to the painted wolves when they arrived. Kjorn insisted that the Lakelanders settle away from the fire so Ilesh and his pack would feel honored.
    The painted wolf chief laid on his belly before the flames, happily cracking open a bone and licking the marrow from inside. Kjorn and Shard sat with him, with Brynja, Ketil, Asvander, and Dagny ringed around the fire. Most of the gryfons already slumbered, some spoke quietly at the second fire and others eavesdropped from the dark.
    The big chief, his fur a dazzling array of swirling brown and white spots that seemed to dance in the shadows of the fire, finished his bone, cleaned his paws, and sat up.
    “I am not opposed to alliance with gryfons, if they are led by you,” he said to Kjorn.
    Shard nudged him, and Kjorn knew his wingbrother’s thought—how quickly the wolf chief had gotten to the point. He appreciated that, as he felt they had very little time, and inclined his head. “I understand your boundaries have not been respected under the rule of Orn.”
    “Nor under your father, or his, or Kajar,” Ilesh said, tilting his head. “Gryfons have pecked and pushed at us since the Second Age, and all of us have failed to repair our broken boundaries. You and the Star-sent are the first to even hear our words, and this is good. If we drive out the great enemy together, perhaps we can have new respect, new understanding, new laws.”
    Mayka bellied forward through the dark and stretched out discreetly by Kjorn, showing his support.
    “I have respect for you,” Kjorn said quietly.
    Beside him, Asvander shifted, nodding slowly. “I make no excuses for Lakelanders who disrespected your hunt today, but know that I have seen the painted wolves fight, and we would be glad to have you as allies.”
    “Allies? This is a cold word.”
    “Friends,” Asvander said, and gratitude warmed Kjorn’s chest. It was not easy for Asvander to change his ways. But, like Brynja and the other Aesir, they were beginning to see as Kjorn saw, as Shard had taught him. Respect and honor for all creatures, Named and Nameless.
    “Friends,” Ilesh said, and licked his chops as if tasting the word. “Yes. We like this. Know that what I do here, I do for my pups, and their pups. And for your kits, so they will know peace and understanding, not war. I will fight the great enemy with my pack so my pups never have to fight, and I will do so alongside gryfons, lions, and eagles, so my pups never know the prejudice we must overcome.”
    “Yes,” Kjorn said quietly, with a glance at Shard, who looked just as pleased as he could, wings fluffed and ears twitching to soft sounds in the dark. “That’s our hope as well. Tell me what lands, what borders you hope to claim at the end of this.”
    Ilesh raised his dark muzzle and opened his mouth to a panting grin. “The time for that will come. First . . .” He looked between Shard, Asvander, and Kjorn, and said, “Tell me what plan you have for we creatures of the earth to be of use against the winged enemy.”
    Kjorn and Asvander looked at each other, and Kjorn deferred to the Lakelander, who was swiftly becoming