Quiet Magic by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller Page A

in
them. No getting around it: he was well and truly immersed in
magic, against his will. That he'd willingly carry--much less
depend on--a magic sword was proof that he was taking leave of his
senses well before his mission to find and deal with griffins would
likely take his life.
    Grayling eagerly accepted his hand's
casual hint that they return to the troop and Slate let the horse
set his pace on the ride to the day-camp. A cooler, drier breeze
was at his back coming away from the valley and as he approached
the campsite the high keening of hawks echoed about him--a sign
that clearer air must be on the way.
    The sound of hawks got unexpectedly
louder and more boisterous the closer they got to the campsite; not
even the noise of Grayling's quickening strides hid it. Under that
was another bird-like call.
    Slate hurried his mount on the damp
road and up the trail to the meadow. The scent of the wet meadow
grass mixed with the husky odor of low-drifting wood smoke as they
entered the clearing. Slate caressed the pommel of his sword and
found no sign of threat even as he sighted his men and their
horses. He reined in Grayling and dismounted beneath the ancient
gnarled oak whose deadfall branches had supplied much of the wood
for their fire; his eyes were on the sky as soon as his boots
touched the meadow.
    Flying under the canopy of departing
mist were at least a dozen hawks, each keening and calling more
loudly than the next. They circled easily in the freshening breeze
while DaChauxma's troop stared upward, transfixed.
    In the midst of the hawks was
something else. Winged and gray, and preternaturally large and
silent, it drifted with lazy wings above the meadow. Some trick of
the light gave it a brightly shining beak.
    It took Slate several moments to put a
name to that form--he kept thinking that the creature was an eagle
the while his eyes saw something else. Finally he said the word out
loud.
    "Crow!" the word came unwilling. "A
tremendous gray crow!"
    It was if the strange tableau had been
waiting for just those sounds.
    The hawks went silent as one, and the
great crow, near colorless against the mist above it, nonchalantly
curled wing-feathers and started a long, smartly executed
parade-ground glide toward Slate.
    Still the sword was quiet.
    Slate stood as if rooted as the crow's
glide brought it near, then was startled into action as the crow
swooped suddenly onto the closest oak branch, barely two arms
lengths above, showering him with old bark. The Rove Captain swept
his hand in the air to ward off the bark and found his eyes drawn
to the intelligent face and strange bright beak.
    The crow studied him and with a quick
shake of its head it tossed off that shining beak. Instinctively,
Slate caught the falling object, to be rewarded with the loud
nearly purring crow sentence: "Braddack! Braddack carthulu!
Braddack Kinzel carthulu!"
    In his hand Slate found not some
unnatural beak but a surprisingly heavy piece of cool, shaped
glass. He began to inspect it, but was interrupted by a very
ordinary and bird-like clucking noise.
    The crow clucked again and Slate again
found himself looking into that curious and insistent
face.
    "Braddack," the crow mumbled at him.
"Braddack, Braddack carthulu. Carthulu Kinzel."
    Slate lifted his hand toward the
bird.
    "Do you need this back?" he asked
uncertainly.
    "Carthulu. Carthulu Braddack. Carthulu
Kinzel," the crow said, edging slowly away from the proffered
glass, and turning his head slightly, denying need.
    Slate shook his head in wonder. "I
guess you don't need it, eh? My thanks..." He studied the glass,
realized that it was some kind of a lens, and put it to his eye to
see what the world looked like through it, saw a strange dark
apparition approaching looming from nowhere...
    "Is it a diamond?" came the
apparition's question.
    Slate unabashedly jumped as
Littlebrook spoke.
    "Damn, man, you near surprised the
life out of me!"
    "And you damn near spooked the rest of
us, Captain,