Only Bell-sound was left outside, her eyes fixed on Golden-throat, who moved from the entrance, saying, “Bell-sound, you have a child hatched. It is safe and well cared for. The children have fed it.”
Bell-sound cried out, a joyous sound very like a peal of bells. Willum brought the hatchling out, wrapped in the shirt they had put around it when it hatched during the night. A tiny pecking sound had wakened him, he had wakened Needly, and they had watched, fascinated, as a little hole appeared, a beak sharp as a pin poking through as tiny bits of the shell fell away. The being inside was so very tiny, naked, ugly. Pale, tender skin stretched over grass-thin bones. The wings seemed mere scraps of skin. When it had emerged, the little creature had been covered with something milky and sticky, and the shell had been full of stuff. “Gunk,” said Willum. Gunk it was, obviously organic, rather smelly, and they had caught almost all of it in their cooking pan. Willum had buried it in the far back corner of the privy ground. Silently, not waking the other Griffins, Needly had warmed water and cleaned the baby just outside the entrance to the cave. Willum had fetched some of the raw meat from outside the cave entry and had cut it very fine. They had fed the child as it eagerly gulped meat until its tiny head fell to one side as though its thin little neck had snapped. For a moment they feared that had actually happened, but the baby had made a gurgling, contented sound. It had simply fallen asleep.
They had made a pile of bedding where the egg had been and covered it with the blanket so the Griffin children would not know the egg had hatched. In an attempt to hide any remaining odor, Needly took a brand from the fire and carried it around the cave, letting the smoke make a stink of its own. She had no idea how sensitive Griffin noses—or equivalent—might be, but there was nothing more they could do but wash the pan and put it over the fire with bits of the meat and herbs from their food stores to make an aroma of its own. The wrapped hatchling went inside her shirt, next to her skin The full cloak that Xulai had included in their stores had covered the bulge it made. In the hours since hatching, the baby had developed a fine downy coat, and they had fed it surreptitiously several times, keeping the cloak well around Needly as they did so. When Silver-shanks had appeared, Willum had taken the baby inside his shirt, his own cloak hiding its shape.
Now Bell-sound and Golden-throat stared down at it. Needly stroked it, petted it.
“It’s a boy child,” she said. “Bell-sound, this is a boy child.” She had had time to study Dawn-song’s anatomy in the last few days, and she had compared it to this newly hatched one. It was indeed a male. Her voice deepened: “His name is Carillon.” The unintentional words had been uttered in Grandma’s voice, as though the old woman were standing next to her.
Golden-throat said wonderingly, “A male child, and we have time to get to Tingawa before Despos returns. We have time, but none to spare. We must leave now.” She turned to Needly. “We must go west, and you must go south to Sun-wings. We cannot risk this little male to go with you . . . Carillon, did you say? You have broken your own rule to name him so soon.”
“The name means a chime of bells,” said Needly. “He will have a voice like that, a beautiful voice. There is no rule for this child, this child is beyond rules. He is not of Despos.”
Bell-sound whispered, “We are ashamed not to go with you, but . . .”
Needly felt the tears on her cheeks as she said, “Of course you can’t risk it. I know what this baby means. It means if Despos is killed, he isn’t the last male. And this one will not be like Despos! I know how important that makes him! And, I know you’ll be safer if you go together. But don’t go yet! You will be over the ocean, stopping only at islands that may be bare. You will need to carry food for the baby.”
She staggered back, feeling a sudden weakness. The two Griffins were murmuring together; Golden-throat whispered to Willum, and he nodded. He started to cut meat into thin strips; Golden-throat took the meat from him and clicked her beak along it like a machine ticking as the cleanly cut shreds fell on top of the piece of canvas Willum had cut from the tent. He made a bundle of it, with a long slit in the top that would admit Bell-sound’s beak and a strong loop on top for Bell-sound’s claws. “We didn’t send any with the other babies . . .” he said, sorrowing.
Golden-throat said, “They are old enough to go several days without food. Now, you young ones, it will take all the day to find Sun-wings at the place that one described.”
Needly noted the tone of voice in which “that one” had been said. Silver-shanks was not a popular Griffin—at least, not with Golden-throat and Bell-sound.
Golden-throat went on: “Take what you will need with you; Sun-wings’ child is big enough to carry some things. You will need to stay there, I think. If Despos hurt her badly, perhaps she will not live very long. If she does not, her child . . .”
“We will take care of her child,” said Needly, whose brief respite had restored her determination, if not all her strength. “But before you go, there is one thing I must be sure of. Does each of you know who fathered you?”
The two Griffins stared at her, heads cocked, as though surprised. Bell-sound said, “Despos was hatched or made far south of here, in great tall mountains along the western ocean. He is father of the ones you have named Flame-tail and Copper-beak and Silver-shanks. He is not father of Silver-shanks’ child—Snow-foot, you named her. He is not father to this child! I sorrow—is that the proper word? Feel . . . sad? Yes. I feel sorrow to know that Despos is probably father to the eggs you tended.” She glanced questioningly at Golden-throat.
The golden Griffin nodded. “I believe that is so and I, too, sorrow. Any eggs still unbroken by Despos are younger than Bell-sound’s hatchling. Would they be of Despos? Was that the time he killed the last of the other males?” The two Griffins nodded to each other, considering it, thinking it over. When considering things, Needly noted, they made a deep purring sound, like huge cats. Grandma and Needly had had a cat. It was very old. Grandma had had it since it was a kitten. Its name had been Plush. He had died when Needly was seven years old. How strange. She had not thought of silky, black Plush in a very long time. That deep purring had brought him back . . .
The purring ended. Golden-throat said, “We believe the two eggs you tended are of Despos, and their mothers are of Despos. The mothers of Flame-tail and the other two may still be in that place to the south, or Despos may have killed them. At that time there were other males there and here, where we are, and those males were our fathers and fathers of our children. They stopped growing, as we do. Despos never did stop growing.”
Needly held up her hand. “Is he still growing, Golden Throat?” She was thinking of the giants Willum had told her of. The Griffin nodded, a very human nod, and Needly turned back to the other griffins. “Sun-wings, Bell-sound, and you, Golden-throat, have nothing of Despos in you. Dawn-song, Snow-foot, Amber-ears, and little Carillon, they are not of Despos. The eggs Copper-beak and Flame-tail have, those are from Despos, and so I believe with Despos as both father and grandfather, the young ones will be as he is. If those eggs were . . . accidentally broken, it would not be a bad thing.”
“But even they will bring their children to a Namer in Tingawa, will they not?” said Bell-sound. “And you have a way to communicate with that place, to let them know who should be . . . helped and who perhaps should be . . . stopped.”
Golden-throat murmured, “All of us, no matter where we were, we were first created by mankind. We were fathered and mothered by them.”
Needly cried, “I know that, but please don’t tell the other three that you have a male baby, Bell-sound. They have no way of knowing, do they, unless you tell them? Not for a while?”
“No,” she said, the word humming like a chord stroked from muted chimes. “They will not know it has hatched. Babies do not leave the pocket at all until they beg
in to get enough fur to keep them warm. Then they may be left in a properly prepared nest for short times while the mother hunts, but they still spend most time in the pocket. It is safer. Why do you ask this?”
“Because even if you were all created by man, I think there are two different races of you. Mankind created many things: some were evil, some were good. Some were not intended to be evil but turned out that way anyhow. Among the Griffins, some are like Sun-wings and you two, and some are like Despos and his daughters, full of anger and killing. We believe any that were fathered by Despos are going to be like Despos. Do you use the word ‘evil’?”
“What Despos does is evil,” said Golden-throat. “Killing without thinking. Doing everything without thinking.”
Needly nodded. “We think he has serpent in his making. Serpents don’t think. They just react.” She sighed deeply. “If you know the word ‘evil,’ you must know the word ‘good.’ If you would care to do a good thing, merely because it is a good thing, stay near Silver-shanks and Snow-foot. Snow-foot is . . . she is like Dawn-song. She is good, but her mother is not, so look out for Snow-foot. If ever she needs someone to take care of her, take her to the emperor in Tingawa, or if you are near, bring her to us. The emperor is grandfather to Xulai, he will help.”
Two huge heads turned, two great pairs of eyes staring at each other. “Good?” murmured Bell-sound to the other. “And who shall say what is good?”
“I shall,” said Needly, and Willum’s head swiveled as he turned to stare at her, for her voice had reverberated like an enormous gong that sends reverberations away to the farthest mountain. “I am the Namer. I shall name what is good, and what is bad.”
“And how shall we know?” Golden-throat demanded in a knife-edged whisper.
Needly murmured, as from some other place far away: “You will see, you will hear, you will know. Pain is part of the fabric of creation, given by the Creator as a warning, to tell us when something outside ourselves is dangerous, to tell us if something inside ourselves needs care. Sometimes we must cause pain for a good purpose, to set a bone or sew up a wound. But one who causes pain intentionally for no good purpose is evil. To feel pleasure at someone else’s pain is an even greater evil! Look into the eyes of any creature to see how they react to pain in others. We know Despos is evil because he rejoices in the pain of his victims. We know Silver-shanks is evil, for she rejoiced that Sun-wings was hurt, that she may die. Flame-tail and Copper-beak are the same, as their children may be as well.”
Now the great eyes were staring at her. The Griffins’ bodies were trembling, a barely detectable shiver. Needly faced them, unconscious of her own being, merely there, a conduit for something . . . someone else. She looked down, whispering, “Grandma?”
Willum did not like the tension that was building or the expression on Needly’s face as though she were holding an explosion within her. He broke it deliberately. “You remember, both of you mothers, it’s real important you get to Tingawa. If you and your babies want to go on livin’, you got to get there!”
The Griffins sagged. “Yes,” said Needly, coming back to herself with a start. “If this baby has a chance at life, it will be in Tingawa. He will grow to be a male for you. He will not be like Despos. You should all go quickly, before Despos learns he has been tricked.”
“Despos will come to Tingawa,” said Golden-throat. “He will come there.”
Needly nodded. “He may, yes. But the people of Tingawa have the power to kill him. And now that you have a young male, the Tingawans may allow themselves to use that power. I hope . . . Xulai’s grandfather will use that power. It seems very important to me.”
Golden-throat’s voice was low, musing, as though she were finding her way among new concepts, new definitions. “If Despos has not killed more of us, there should be at least sixteen of us females. Bell-sound and I know them all. I think . . .” She looked into Bell-sound’s face and the other Griffin nodded. “We think only those three who were here are, as you say, serpent. Only six of us, those you have seen, nested here. Ten of us nest other places, far to the south. We will pass their places as we go south to the islands. We will tell them all, we will warn them all.”
Golden-throat moved away into the trees, Amber-ears beside her. As little Amber-ears reached the trees she turned, reared upon her hind legs, and waved both front paws.
Bell-sound took longer, licking the tiny, naked creature all over. The children watched as she tucked him away. Needly caught a glimpse of the inside surface of the pocket, oozing a pale liquid. “How long will it stay there?” she asked.
“Some tens of years,” murmured Bell-sound. “Or more. It varies. I had two others. Then I had them not, for Despos killed them.” The pocket closed smoothly, seamlessly around the child. The great creature leaned forward and touched both Needly and Willum on their foreheads with the very tip of her tongue, like a caress. “I give you my thanks. Sun-wings says that is the . . . appropriate thing to say. We have heard you, Needly. Golden-throat and I speak of you. We believe you were sent to us, maybe both of you sent to us, to be Namer and messenger. We believe you have done well. Because of what you have done, we can now believe your people will also try to do well for us. We . . . what is the word . . . ?”
“Trust,” said Needly.
“Yes, trust. Do for us what you can.” She turned away and walked toward the trees. They watched until she disappeared among them. Evidently Golden-throat had waited for her companion. The two wing snaps came only moments apart, as did the two voices as they flew away. One small one—“Amber-eeears”—and then from afar, Bell-sound’s resonant, rejoicing utterance: “Belelelelelel-sououound.”
Willum took a deep breath and said in his most practical, getting-on-with-things voice, “Even if Golden-throat hadn’t told us, I’da picked Silver-shanks, Copper-beak, and Flame-tail as kin t’that Despos. We’d need a really big cata-pull-it for one a’ him.”
Needly whispered, “But little Snow-foot was as delightful as Dawn-song.”
“ ’Spose she’ll grow up like that?”
“I’m almost sure she will, but no one will know until after she’s grown, three hundred years to maturity. Our great-, great-, great- . . . oh, twelve-times-great-grandchildren might know!”
“Ours? You n’ me?”
“If we each have some, Willum. I didn’t mean necessarily yours and mine together.”
“Oh,” grumped Willum as he turned away to confront their pile of supplies. “I wunt’a minded if you’d meant yours and mine together, you know.”
“I know, Willum.” Needly allowed herself only a hint of smile. “And I wouldn’t have minded either. But it isn’t . . . fitting to discuss it at our age or this stage of our journey. We have to focus ourselves on what’s needed.”
“What’s ‘focus’ mean?”
“It means to look hard, to really concentrate on seeing something. Grandma showed me with a kind of glass she had. It pulls the light all together in one place so you can see very clearly. Dewdrops do it, too, she said.”
“Like Xulai told me, about the dewdrops making rainbows.”
“Well yes. Part of the same thing.”
Willum heaved a huge sigh. He felt very tired. They had slept very little the night before. “We could tell the good ones from the bad ones just how they talked, couldn’t we? That’s a good thing, that we can tell. It’d be bad if’n you didn’t know!” Then, without waiting for an answer, “We gotta go!” He cast a look aloft. The sun was midway to noon. “We got to get down the hill to Sun-wings.”
Needly gave him a quick hug and a smile. “Remind me to wash my face when we get to the stream. If I look like you, we look like we been in a forest fire. And we need to fill our water bottles there, too.”
They had already sorted aside the things that Needly wa
s sure they could manage without. They couldn’t carry everything. They couldn’t carry half! Not the mattresses. One pot or pan would have to do, to wash and to heat water and to cook in. Two mugs, two spoons, two bowls. Small sacks of grain. A couple of onions. Some of the meat from the carcass outside, a little for them and a lot for Dawn-song. Tiny sacks of herbs for flavor. Willum took the ax and a small coil of rope, mumbling about unraveling rope to make rabbit snares. Dawn-song carried the blankets, all of them, piled across her back, with a rope tied loosely to hold them on. All three of them noted that the pile of things left behind was a great deal larger than the ones they could carry.
“We’ll manage,” said Needly.
“ ’Course we will,” echoed Willum.
“Go find Mama,” urged Dawn-song, for the fiftieth time. “Now. Enough talking.”
“Enough talking, Dawn-song. Yes. We go.” Still, Needly stood outside the cave, memorizing it. Xulai had the thing that could go anywhere, if you just knew exactly what it looked like. Maybe she would come back here with Xulai and get their things, hers and Willum’s.
DEEP IN THE NIGHT, BLUE was aroused from sleep by a slow, tickly furriness around his rear legs. He shivered uncontrollably, not yet awake enough to decide whether to kick with one or both lethal back feet . . .
“Not eating you, Blue Horse,” snorted a voice as furry as the touch.
Not-quite-memory swamped him. There were no words in it, just . . . feelings. From before, when he was . . . only horse . . . not . . . . not whatever-it-was he was now. Kicking, stamping on, fleeing away from feelings. When his body reacted in this uncontrolled way—which he considered unsuitable for any speechified equine—he had to surmise that he, or horses in general, might have an instinctive response to that particular type of snort, that piggish—no, boarish snort, which had a lot of teeth or tusks behind it: an omnivorish, “I’ll eat anything alive or dead” sort of snort.