[Firebringer 03] - The Son of Summer Stars Read Free Page A

generations have my people defended this vale—we shall guard it forty more if need be. My brother the prince shall hear of your intrusion.” She ramped. “Wingcats are forbidden here. Begone!”
    One corner of the tercel’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smile.
    “Little unicorn,” he answered mildly, “attend. We gryphons are not the ones who trespass Ishi’s Vale. But consider: with the birth of your flock’s long-sought Firebringer, does not time at last betide you to depart and reclaim your Hallow Hills?”
    Lell felt her jaw loosen with surprise. How could this outlander know her people’s sacred prophecies? Green as river stones, the crouching gryphon’s cat’s eyes watched her.
    “Tell Prince Moonbrow,” he said, “that his shoulder-friend, Illishar of the Broken Wing, flies emissary from my kindred Malar, now wingleader of all the clans. She would parley a peace if, as your brother claims, you truly mean to relinquish this vale.”
    “We do! We must. He is Alma’s Firebringer!” Lell exclaimed, more than a little impressed at her own bravery in answering the huge raptor without a moment’s hesitation. The gryphon shrugged. His pinions flexed. The darkamber filly felt the wind they stirred. The sensation made her skin draw. She demanded, “When would your wingleader treat with my prince?”
    The tercel clucked. “When the new-hatched chicks are well grown enough to be left in their fathers’ care. Spring’s end, or early summer.”
    Lell frowned, thoughts racing. How would her brother, Jan, have responded? “Solstice falls at Moondance this year. Come then,” she called up, “on the night of the full moon marking the advent of summer.”
    The raptor spread huge, jewel-green wings. “So be it. I fly to bring word to my kin before the hatchlings pip.”
    Pinions fully extended, he stroked the air. Lell’s mane whipped. She stood astonished that he should accept her words so readily in her brother’s stead. Her heart quailed. An impulse filled her suddenly to bolt, but she stood her ground.
    “Tell Jan that in token of faith,” the gryphon said, “Malar will bar the formels from hunting Ishi’s Vale again this spring, so sparing your young a third year in a row.”
    Powerful wingbeats hummed. His voice sounded like a cat’s purr still. With a mighty bound and blurred thrashing of wings, the tercel was suddenly airborne. Despite herself, Lell flinched. The sweep of his pinions was startling. His shadow passed over her back and flanks.
    “We meet again in three months’ time, little unicorn,” he called, skimming out from the steep hillside and down.
    Had she leapt upward then, Lell realized, she could have grazed him. The rush of air dizzied her. Her horn tingled. The blood in her veins sang. Wheeling, she glimpsed the gryphon’s back before his furiously threshing wings gained him lift enough to veer, glide upward toward vale’s edge. She wheeled again, following his path with her eyes. The Pan Woods lay beyond the top of the rise.
    “Lell!” she cried after him, bounding up slope in his wake. “My name is Lell!”
    The gryphon neither checked nor turned. Still seeking altitude, his grass-green pinions winnowed the air. He soared away from her. Lell stumbled to a halt. The bright air seemed to burn where he had been. She wondered what it must be like to sail, free as a hawk, so far above the ground. Her withers tightened unexpectedly, aching almost, longing for wings. Grown small, the tercel passed beyond the hillcrest, disappeared from view. Heart still at full gallop, she realized she had been holding her breath.
    A sudden drumming of heels brought Lell’s head sharp around. The crack of trampled twigs reached her, and the crashing of brush. From wood’s edge, scant paces from her, rang out the battle-whistle of a warrior. A moment later, the black prince of the unicorns burst from the trees. Snorting, ramping, he cast fiercely about as though seeking a foe. Lell