A Pride of Gryphons

by Kristen S. Walker

  Itychia spoke for the first time. “You’ll climb in the morning, when there’s enough light to see. The trees fly for three days, so we’ll split you into groups and take turns.” She grinned suddenly. “Any volunteers for going first?”

  Tatiana took a deep breath and raised her hand. She didn’t want to drag this out for three days of not being able to sleep or eat for fear of what would happen. It was now or never.

  A moment later, Philagros raised his hand, too. He winked at her. “I can’t let you beat me.”

  Only a few others raised their hands. Itychia looked around at all of them and nodded. “Very well. For the rest of you, I’ll draw names tomorrow. Go get some sleep.”

  But Tatiana was right: she spent many hours awake, staring up into the darkness at the trees and marewings overhead, and didn’t know how long it was before she fell asleep.

  ***

  Tatiana was awake again before Navera and Itychia came to wake the candidates. She forced herself to swallow a few mouthfuls of breakfast porridge, but that was all she could manage.

  Navera distributed climbing gear to the first group of climbers: a harness, a rope, and spikes. Itychia came after, checking that they all put their harnesses on correctly, but they knew what they were doing after weeks of practice.

  Itychia paused in front of Tatiana with a measuring look. “You know, you don’t have to go first if you don’t want to,” she said, leaning closer to speak in a low tone that the others couldn’t hear. “I can switch you with someone in another group.”

  Tatiana realized she was gripping her gear too tightly and her tension was showing. She forced herself to relax, taking a deep breath, and shook her head. “No. I want to go.”

  Itychia gripped her shoulder. “Very well. Good luck.”

  Twenty candidates went to stand at the edge of the marsh and wait for the break of dawn. Navera delivered her final instructions: coax a marewing, don’t force her.

  Philagros, at her side as always, nudged her. “Hey, Tati,” he whispered. “Bet my marewing is going to be faster than yours.”

  She looked over at him with a faint smile. For once, the childish nickname was more comforting than annoying. “Nah, I’m tired of coming in second behind you. I’ll find the fastest one.”

  He winked. “I guess we’ll see.”

  Sunlight streaked across the sky. Navera turned back to them with a nod. “Spread out,” she warned. “Too many of you too close together will just scare them away.”

  From the size of the marsh, Tatiana didn’t think it would be hard for even all sixty candidates to get enough distance between each other. When she got the signal to go, she slogged into the mud, angling away from where she’d seen others head, and within minutes she couldn’t see anyone else or the shore behind her. Although the trees were all up in the air, there were tall reeds growing between the empty holes they’d left behind, and she had to force herself through them.

  She had to watch her step, but she kept looking up at the sky for a likely tree. Most of them were so high that even their root systems were far above her head. This must be the disadvantage to going on the first day: with all of the fresh fruit on their branches, the trees had plenty of magic to lift them up high.

  Eventually, she stopped looking at the trees themselves and started watching the marewings. They weren’t darting back and forth from one tree to another at random. Each one hovered in a single location, finding all of the fruit that they could before moving on, and when more than one concentrated on a single tree, the rapid loss of fruit caused that tree to slowly descend.

  She looked closer, and saw that some of the marewings had riders on their backs, cutting the fruit with large knives and catching them in nets before they could float away. That must be the harvest Navera had told them about—the riders would preserve the fruit in pickling liquid, saving their magic to strengthen their marewings for the rest of the year. And unlike the wild marewings who clustered together in only twos and threes, the riders were working together in large groups to strip an entire tree at once. As she watched, the first one drifted down to touch the marsh again, its roots floating on the water in a tangle.

  But Navera had said that the presence of too many humans in one place would frighten away the wild marewings. It would be better to avoid the other riders. Tatiana turned away to a less-populated area of the swamp.

  When she was away from the others, she saw a tree drifting lower before her. One thick root was trailing in the water, but the bulk were still up in the air: half-stripped of fruit, but not totally empty yet. She looked up, craning her neck to see if any humans were already up gathering the fruit.

  A group of four marewings, all with riders, turned away from the tree and flew off. Before they disappeared, one of them, a woman on a golden marewing looked down and waved at her.

  The hair rose on the back of Tatiana’s neck. Could that have been the duchess? She wore a regular Storm Petrels uniform, but there weren’t that many golden marewings in the company. Then she shook her head at her own fancy. That woman looked much too small, almost like a child. All of the stories about Duchess Korinna said what a good fighter she was, so she couldn’t be that tiny.

  She didn’t know what made the riders leave, but she wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. Tatiana reached up and drove her first spike into the dangling root above her, anchoring her climbing rope.

  Dried mud caked the root, making it hard to get a grip. She only had so many climbing spikes, so she had to use them sparingly, driving them into wood only when she couldn’t find any other purchase. The roots were knobby, and once she was higher up in the tangled root system, she had her choices to move back and forth amongst the easiest spots. The top was a cluster so tightly wound that it was like climbing a ladder.

  Up on the trunk of the tree itself, the strange structure gave her a new advantage. Now she could see that the tree was actually separate, smaller trunks all twisted together, but they didn’t fit together everywhere, leaving many openings for her to wedge her hands and feet. She pulled up the climbing rope, freeing it from the spikes she’d left behind, and hung it in loops on her belt where it wouldn’t get in her way.

  It wasn’t until she was all the way up into the canopy, perched on a branch, when she realized that she’d have to take off the climbing gear and detach herself from the tree. There was no way she could get onto a marewing’s back while still safely tied to the tree—and it would only cause complications when the marewing flew away. She would truly have to trust the marewing to hold her up.

  Suddenly, the height felt dizzying as she unbuckled the harness and left it hanging on a branch. There was a thought, in the back of her mind, that she could still put it back on if she needed to climb down at the end of the day. But despite her attempt at leaving a backup plan, she knew there was really only one way she was getting down from the tree. Fly—or die.

  Tatiana lay down along a branch and pulled herself forward, inch by careful inch. She remembered what she was there for and looked for the pale blue cloudfruits, growing in clusters around her. She cut them loose with her knife and stuffed her pockets with as many as she could carry. They tugged at her clothes, trying to float upward, and the feeling was even more unsettling. She was afraid that they would unbalance her grip on the branch and make her fall—because no amount of cloudfruits in her pockets would let her fly on her own.

  A rustling sound in the branches ahead caught her attention. Tatiana lifted her head up and suddenly found herself nose to nose with a pale white face.

  Hot breath washed over her, taking in her scent. Tatiana blinked in surprise and froze, not sure what to do. Stay calm, a voice reminded her, the only part of Navera’s instructions that she could recall. She kept her breathing slow and even but didn’t move a muscle.

  A bright red eye blinked at her once. Then the nose disappeared as quickly as it had come.

  She let out a sigh of relief and put her head down again, resting it against the
rough bark. She was so afraid the monster was going to attack her before she’d had a chance to do anything.

  Then something tickled at her leg. Tatiana whipped her head around, tightening her arms around the branch to keep her perch, and saw the same white face nosing at her leg. At this distance, she could see the whole marewing was pure white, from her ears to her tail. The scales on the back of her wings glittered like sand on the beach.

  The nose was pushing closer against her, sniffing its way to her pockets. She realized that it was after the fruit, but she felt helpless to do anything. How could she let go of the branch with one hand to reach into her pocket? Images of plummeting to her death flashed before her eyes.

  The marewing was insistent. When it couldn’t get into her pocket, it butted its head against her, forcing her to hang on for dear life. “Whoa!” she cried out involuntarily.

  The marewing let out a startled snort, pulling back from her. For a moment, it was hidden by the leaves and branches around her.

  But then it reappeared again on her other side. The inquisitive marewing nudged at her jacket, where she had more pockets full of cloudfruit.

  “Oh, fine, hang on,” Tatiana grumbled. She clutched the branch as tight as she could, wedging her left arm and both legs against any bumps she felt in the wood, and then slowly reached into the nearest pocket with her right hand. She grabbed one cloudfruit and held it out, palm open. The cloudfruit started to float up into the air but the marewing snatched it before it could escape. She watched the sharp teeth gnashing together only inches away from her hand, and it was all she could do not to flinch.

  The red eyes looked at her, expectantly, and she didn’t hesitate. She began pulling all of the cloudfruit out of her pockets and feeding it to the marewing. Sometimes the marewing caught the fruit out of midair, and sometimes it took them directly from her hand, picking it up with soft lips that tickled her palm. Tatiana found herself giggling at the sensation, then full-out laughing at the absurdity of her situation.

  When she was out of fruit, she was half-hopeful, half-afraid that the marewing would leave and go find its meal somewhere else. But it pushed closer, snapping twigs and pushing aside large branches, sniffing her all over as if still searching for a stray fruit somewhere on her person.

  “I don’t have any left,” Tatiana whispered apologetically. She reached out, thinking that a touch would frighten it away, but the marewing kept its head steady as she placed her open hand on its neck.

  Take the leap of faith and fall to live where you are free.

  The song from the night before echoed in her mind. Almost without thinking about it, Tatiana found herself unwrapping her limbs from the tree branch and reaching out toward the marewing.

  The white marewing started to turn away. Before it could leave, she gathered herself and jumped.

  Korinna III

  Korinna wrestled with a full net of cloudfruit as Galenos uncovered a barrel full of pickling liquid. They’d already gathered more than enough fruits during their turn at the harvest, but now he had to show her how to preserve the fruits to keep their magic without letting them fly away. She’d never handled this side of the harvest before, since new riders were preoccupied enough with learning to handle their mounts. Picking fruit and dunking them into barrels of briny concoctions was a lot less glamorous than the rush of euphoria at her first flight and being showered with congratulations from other riders.

  Galenos helped her secure the net, and together they pushed it down into the barrel. The resistance from the magical fruits stopped as soon as they were submerged. “The secret to cloudfruits is they’re dormant so long as they’re wet,” he explained, wiping a splash of liquid from his face. “That’s how they grow in the pods. As soon as they’re exposed to the air again, they’ll start floating, so you have to make sure they’re totally covered.”

  She bent down, trying to lift the lid of the barrel, and found its weight almost too much for her. She struggled to raise it back up to the top.

  “No, let me do that.” He grabbed another handle on the lid and lifted it up one-handed. He pulled out a hammer and tapped a few nails down, sealing the lid shut. “And we’re done. Let’s go see how supper is coming along.”

  Korinna followed him to a seat on a fallen log next to their campfire and gratefully sank down. She was exhausted from a long day of flying, picking fruit, and tending Sungold. It was still a few hours before supper, but Galenos produced a rind of cheese and some crackers from one of his packs, and she felt her hunger flare at the sight of food. She dug in eagerly.

  She’d been trying not to let show any sign that she was different from usual, but her husband was lavishing her with attention, making sure that she didn’t overwork herself and got plenty to eat. She couldn’t tell if he suspected her potential pregnancy or was merely trying to make up for the fact that they didn’t have their servants to care for them. Galenos always seemed to think that she was more fragile than she actually was, and now she was afraid to ask why he was doting on her, for fear of calling attention to the issue.

  Orivan looked up from the cooking fire with a grin. “You brought your own food?” he said, raising his eyebrows at Galenos. “Do you have anything special in there that could spice up this stew?”

  Galenos winked and reached into the pack again. “Will this do?” He pulled out a bottle of red wine and passed it across.

  Orivan uncorked the bottle and smelled the contents, then nodded and dumped a healthy portion into the stew. Unlike the candidates, who had to gather their own food in the valley, the riders had ample provisions carried by the candidates and the blacksmith. Tonight’s supper smelled like lamb, onions, and a variety of other vegetables—all flavors that would be enhanced by the red wine. He took a swig of the liquid that remained, then held the bottle out. “That’s some good stuff, but I wouldn’t expect less from a duke.”

  Galenos laughed and took the wine back. He didn’t complain about drinking directly from the bottle, unlike back in the city where he had a fine collection of crystal stemware. He just took a generous swallow, then offered the bottle to Korinna next.

  She shook her head with a smile, hoping no one would question why she refused the alcohol. The camaraderie of the riders relaxed her after months of courtly etiquette. Her old friends had already come by to greet her, as equals instead of bowing and scraping to a duchess, and Galenos also acted more casual, since he no longer acted as their commander. Many more people came by the campfire to greet him, talking of old memories from their many years of flying together.

  Varranor approached their campfire now, holding a bottle in each hand. “Did someone ask for wine? I’ve got a few vintages here that I thought you’d like, brother.”

  Galenos stood up and greeted his brother warmly, kissing him on both cheeks and offering him a seat. Any awkwardness he’d expected between them seemed to have melted away in the festive atmosphere of the harvest. “Wine is always welcome! I think we’ve got enough in the pot already, but I can’t say the same for our cook. If you bribe him enough, he might let you stay to eat with us.”

  Varranor looked down at Orivan, and the younger rider looked up at him with a wink. “I’d be honored to feed the new commander,” he said warmly. He glanced over at Galenos. “No offense to the old one, of course.”

  Varranor smiled back in a very familiar way at Orivan and sat down. “Well, if that’s the offer, I may have to go back and fetch more wine.” He gave a whole bottle over to the cook.

  Korinna looked back and forth between the two men. When she’d left the Storm Petrels, Orivan was a new rider just like her, and he didn’t know any of the officers—now he seemed very friendly with her brother-in-law. “When did you two get to know each other?”

  Varranor shrugged with a grin. “Oh, you know. I’m trying to learn all of my riders and their particular talents.” He glanced at Orivan. “Although I didn’t know one of yours was cooking.”

  Orivan ducked his head and stirred the
pot intently.

  That was curious. She wanted to ask more, but a shout suddenly went out across the camp.

  “The new riders are returning!”

  She looked up eagerly. With everything else going on, she’d almost forgotten the tense wait for the candidates to return from their trials, some of them with marewings—others coming back injured from the attempt, or not at all. Now she scanned the sky for signs of the first successful riders.

  Two marewings dipped down out of the trees, one white, one brown. They were coming on with surprising speed as if they were racing one another. The brown one tried to maneuver in front, blocking the white, but the white zipped around her and touched down on the ground away from camp that was kept clear for the new arrivals.

  A tall, pale girl leaped off the white marewing’s back. “Her name is Lilywhite!” she called, loud enough to carry across most of the camp.

  Moments behind, the brown marewing with a white star on her forelock landed next to the other pair. A tanned boy slid down, the same height as the pale girl. He stuck his tongue out at her before turning to shout over the camp. “And her name is Northstar!”

  Cheers echoed through the valley, welcoming them to the company. Then Itychia and Navera came up to guide the new riders away for their first lesson.

  Korinna grinned at their happiness. She looked at Orivan across the campfire, who also had a huge smile on his face. “I remember that moment when we flew for the first time like it was yesterday. Do you know either of them?”