A Pride of Gryphons

by Kristen S. Walker

  Xeros shook his head. “No, I think it was someone we didn’t know about, someone untrained. There was only raw power in that summoning, no technique at all.”

  An older priest got to his feet. “It doesn’t matter what happened. We failed, and now we have to get out of the city before we’re caught.”

  Hilaera looked around the deserted park fearfully. “Won’t the city gates be closed for the night? We should find someplace safe to hide until morning.”

  “They were sending the refugees to shelter in the warehouses,” another priest said in a voice that quavered with uncertainty. “Maybe our disguises will still let us in there?”

  The others stood up and started arguing back and forth about the best place to go. They’d never expected to fail in their mission—the idea was to bring down the city’s defenses and then wait for Sympaia to send a mercenary force to finish the takeover. Now that they’d been thwarted, there was no backup plan for how to get out of Kyratia safely.

  Xeros remained sitting cross-legged on the ground, ignoring their petty squabble. When they finally stopped bickering and looked to him for his opinion, he just shook his head. “You may all attempt to leave, or hide, or whatever you want to do. I am not ready to give up yet. I will rest for a time to recover my strength and then use a second attack to flush out the gifted. It’s still my duty to find them.”

  The older priest threw up his hands in the air. “A second attack? The gryphons are gone! What would you send in to attack them next, an army of sewer rats?”

  Xeros shrugged. “I have a plan, but if you’re not interested, then you may go.”

  They didn’t need another offer. He could tell by their looks that they thought him insane, affected by the overload of wyld magic like their last head priest. The four priests gathered up the last of the food and left the park in a hurry, without so much as a backward glance at him.

  But Hilaera hesitated and knelt beside him again. “Why do you need to find the gifted? We were exiled from this city, it’s no longer our responsibility to serve its citizens.”

  Xeros shrugged and reached down to the grass he sat on. He tore up a handful by the roots and touched the soil below. Even in the city, where the very parks were shaped and tamed by human hands, he could feel the power of wyld magic lurking just beneath the surface of the earth. The magestone foundation fought to keep it out, but wherever there was nature, wyld magic still existed. It could never be completely blocked.

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes so he could see the tiny trickles of wyld magic flowing around him. “When I first discovered my gift,” he began, eyes still closed, “I was afraid. I had nightmares of monsters climbing out of the sea and bursting through the city walls. I thought they would kill us all. I didn’t know the teachings of Varula then—my mother had brought me to the temple a few times, but I mostly believed what the priests of Deyos taught all children in school, that we must be afraid of the wyld and its power.”

  He opened his eyes again and saw Hilaera was listening with a puzzled expression. How to make her understand? “When Varula Soma came to my mother and told her I had been chosen to serve a god, I was still afraid. But then he explained my gift to me and taught me how to control it. It felt like the scales had fallen from my eyes and the whole world had been opened up to me.”

  Hilaera shrugged. “We were all happy to learn how to control our gifts. And yes, the gifted usually start out afraid, so we help them by passing on what Varula taught us about wyld magic. But there is no temple here, no place to train any new gifted in Kyratia. We can’t help whoever this person is without risking ourselves.”

  Xeros shook his head. “But my safety is less important than my duty to Varula and the people He has chosen to bear His gift.” He gestured to the city. “And imagine what could happen if an untrained gifted were left here with no Servants of Varula to counter their powers. Wyld magic could run rampant in Kyratia and tear everything apart.”

  Hilaera smirked. “Then we’d have the revenge we wanted.”

  “How does it serve Varula to pray for vengeance?” Xeros sighed. She sounded like his mother, longing to strike back and destroy her enemies. “That’s not what we were taught. I came here to bring the teachings of Varula back to Kyratia and rebuild our temple. If that starts with finding only one person who needs our help, then so be it.”

  Hilaera flinched back at the reprimand. “All right, I don’t need the lecture. So I’ll try it your way. But how are we going to start a second attack to draw out this untrained gifted person again? Are there other monsters which are close enough to the city for you to summon here?”

  Xeros smiled and closed his eyes, settling into his meditative position. “If you listen closely, you may hear the monsters already inside the city. Regain your strength and we will call them to attack again.”

  Orivan III

  Orivan would have been elated at their victory if he’d had any energy left. He could hear other riders cheering as the last of the gryphons turned away and fled over the city walls, but he thought if he tried to make any noise, it would come out as more of a groan. Instead, he looked around numbly for an order that told him what to do next.

  Orivan saw the signal to head back to the military compound and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. His hands were so tired that he feared he would drop his bow if he had to fire even one more arrow. Moonshadow also seemed to be on the verge of collapse beneath him, her wingbeats slowing to a glide. She’d done more than her share of the fighting tonight, saving his life more times than he could count, and he would be more than happy to give her the rest that she deserved. Both of them would sleep heavily tonight.

  But as he grew closer to the northwest corner of the city where the military compound sat, he realized that it would not be so simple as landing in their usual spot and tucking Moonshadow into a stable for the night. There were too many marewings to land all at once, so many that he wondered if they would all fit in the compound. Moonshadow hovered at the edge uncertainly, unable to find a clear place to fly.

  The marewing captains were organizing their flights into smaller groups and sending them to different sections of the compound in an attempt to keep the chaos controlled. The problem was, Orivan still wasn’t technically assigned to any of them. He looked around for Navera, who was the closest person he had to a commanding officer.

  Navera and Stormcloud were hovering over the mess hall, where she was signaling for her group of reinforcements to land on the flat roof. The sergeant glanced up when she saw Moonshadow’s approach but shook her head. With a rapid series of hand signals that were almost too quick for him to follow, she indicated that this spot was already full and he was still responsible for his own patrol group.

  Orivan turned Moonshadow back, blinking in surprise. His group? Then he remembered that he’d originally been assigned to lead the rookie riders on the city’s patrol. He’d relinquished command to Duke Galenos when he’d joined the battle, but now he couldn’t see the duke or his black marewing anywhere near the military compound, so he’d probably gone back to his own home. That left him in charge of Tatiana and Philagros again.

  He looked around and saw Tatiana hovering on Lilywhite just outside the military compound—their pale forms seemed to gleam with reflected torchlight, making them easy to spot even in the darkness. Moonshadow glided reluctantly back to them.

  Tatiana perked up when she saw him coming. “Have you seen Philagros?” she called over the noise of the crowded compound below.

  Orivan shook his head and pointed down at the first empty spot he saw, just inside the gate. It seemed far enough away from all of the marewing flights to let them land. “Talk down there,” he called back.

  Moonshadow glided in a tight spiral down to the ground and landed heavily on the cobblestones. He slid down her side and threw his arms around her neck, full of emotion now that they were finally out of the sky. “Thank you, my dear heart,” he whispered into her coat. “You’ve done more
than I could ever ask of you.”

  She arched her neck around so that her head rested on his shoulder and let out a bone-weary sigh. They stood there for a long moment, each reassuring themselves that the other one was unharmed. Somehow, against all the odds, they’d survived the terrible onslaught of gryphons and come back to earth. In that embrace, Orivan forgot everything else and simply felt grateful that Moonshadow was with him. Her loyalty was the most important thing in the world.

  He reluctantly let her go and stepped back, but kept one hand resting on her shoulder. He wasn’t sure if he would have the strength to stand without her support.

  Tatiana came up to stand on his other side, leaning against Lilywhite and looking equally weary. But her eyes darted back and forth over the crowd of marewings and riders anxiously. “Where are Philagros and Northstar?”

  Orivan shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know. The officers will take a roll-call and find out everyone’s status, but that will take time, especially in this mess.” He stared at the crowd but could barely make out individual faces in the rush of bodies. “I don’t know how we’re all going to fit here for the night. Why didn’t they send some of them back to Fort Ropytos?”

  Tatiana shrugged. “Who knows what the commander is thinking? I was so surprised that they showed up at all to save us.” She looked up at the sky. “I thought we were all going to die.”

  Orivan reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “Me, too. I’ve never seen a fight so terrifying. But we made it.” He glanced over her and her marewing, realizing that he had a duty to ensure their wellbeing. “Neither of you are hurt, are you?”

  “No.” Tatiana wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, even though the night was barely cool. “Maybe a little scratch here or there. But I don’t know about Philagros. When was the last time you saw him?”

  Orivan tried to think back through the fight. “We all got separated when the second wave arrived from the north.” He shook his head. “He may have been forced to land somewhere else in the city.”

  Tatiana whirled around and gripped Lilywhite’s saddle. “Then I should go look for him. He may be hurt somewhere and need help.”

  Orivan rushed forward and grabbed her before she could swing back up onto her marewing’s back. “No, wait.” Reluctantly, she turned around to face him, her expression scrunched up between anger and sorrow. “Hey, I want to find him, too, but we’re all tired. You need to take care of your marewing first. She can’t just keep flying after the night we’ve had. The city guards will check over the city, and so will other riders if they figure out that someone is missing, so just wait to see what reports come in.”

  Tatiana chewed on her lower lip, considering his words, but finally she nodded and reached for the buckles on Lilywhite’s saddle.

  Orivan took his own advice and turned back to Moonshadow. With tender hands, he removed her tack and rubbed her down. When they’d come to the city on such short notice, he’d thrown her currying brushes and grooming kit into a saddlebag, and now he was grateful that he hadn’t had the chance to stow them away before the patrol. He could make sure that she was cared for after the battle, although she’d also need food, water, and someplace quiet to sleep. He’d have to rely on the officers organizing supplies for all of the marewings here.

  By the time they were finished, Tatiana seemed a little calmer, although she went back to looking through the crowd. “What should we do now?”

  Orivan gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and leaned against Moonshadow for support again. “Now, we wait for news or orders, whichever comes first.”

  Tatiana glanced over at him with a haunted look. “Is it always this hard after a battle…? I don’t even feel happy that we’ve won.”

  “I haven’t been in many more battles than you have,” he said gently. He thought back to other times when he’d found out that his fellow soldiers, even his friends, had been injured or killed, and he feared what the outcome could be for the missing Philagros. “But yes, I think so. Even when we win.”

  She nodded once and turned away without another word.

  Varranor V

  Varranor told Skyfire to circle over the city’s military compound. The space hadn’t been built to accommodate the bulk of the Storm Petrel’s aerial forces—about two hundred marewings, leaving only a handful behind at each of the border forts—but he’d known everyone would be too tired after more than a full day of fighting, so he’d signaled for them to come here and make do for the night. Now the compound was in chaos, with marewings filling the paddocks and spilling out onto the parade grounds, exercise fields, and anywhere else they could find empty ground to land.

  In that mass of bodies, lit only by torches, Varranor was trying to find one gray marewing and her rider in particular. He’d learned only a few minutes ago that Orivan had actually been in the city during the initial attacks, one of three riders stationed to fly patrols and caught by surprise. Desperate to find out if Orivan was safe, but unable to locate anyone in the crowds, he went back into the air hoping for a glimpse.

  There—standing off from the others near the gate. He saw Moonshadow and Orivan standing with a tall white girl and her pale white marewing, whose names he couldn’t recall at the moment. He sent Skyfire to land as close as possible.

  When he felt her hooves touch the cobblestones, he wanted to leap off Skyfire’s back, but he didn’t have the strength left for such a bold move. He swung his leg over the saddle and slid to the ground instead, then rushed toward Orivan.

  “Thank the gods you’re safe,” he said breathlessly, reaching out to touch him, but pulling back at the last second. He was afraid of scaring the young man off again.

  The girl snapped to attention with a salute, but Orivan looked up with bleary eyes but managed a faint smile. “We’re so glad you showed up when you did, commander. We had some guests show up for a surprise party and I was afraid you’d miss the whole thing.”

  Varranor laughed—it felt so good to laugh as relief finally washed over him. “Yeah, that was a stroke of luck.” He glanced around, then dropped his voice and leaned closer. “But I mean that I’m happy to see you safe. When I found out you were here, I—I think my heart stopped for a moment.”

  Orivan dropped his eyes, looking embarrassed. “Um, that’s nice of you to say, sir.”

  Varranor worried about pushing too hard, but since he’d already admitted so much, he didn’t want to just walk away. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask, would you like to join me for supper? I’m on my way to meet up with my brother, but I’m sure he won’t mind the company.”

  Orivan took a step back and cleared his throat. “Actually, Tatiana and I have already been invited,” he said, gesturing to the girl. “But we were looking for someone else first. Philagros, the other rider who was on patrol here. Have you seen him?”

  Varranor shrugged. “Can’t say that I have yet,” he said vaguely, since he didn’t know what Philagros looked like. “Each captain is responsible for sorting out their flight, and it will probably be a while before I receive all of their reports. You can check to find out his assigned bunk later.”

  Tatiana, the girl, shook her head stubbornly. “He was invited to supper, too. Besides, I want to know if he’s safe. I lost sight of him in the fighting and I haven’t seen him or Northstar since we got back.”

  Varranor didn’t care if the girl or the other boy came along to supper, but Orivan had an equally determined expression, and probably wouldn’t budge without further news. So he turned and gestured to one of the company clerks who was running around, trying to organize the chaos. “I need Rider Philagros sent to me as soon as he’s able,” he told the clerk. “Sergeant Navera organized the city patrols, so she might know where he is.”

  The clerk nodded and darted away.

  Varranor turned back to Orivan with a reassuring smile. “We’ll just wait to see if we can get this sorted out.”

  Orivan nodded but said nothing. He busied himse
lf with brushing down Moonshadow, even though she already looked like she’d been brushed once since landing.

  Skyfire nudged Varranor roughly in the shoulder, reminding him that she still wore her saddle. He turned to tend her and give her a cursory check for any new injuries. The spelled bandage still held on her wing, the rest of her was intact, and she didn’t even seem that tired, despite the heavy amount of flying and fighting she’d done. The boost of magic from the extra cloudfruit had carried her through it all. He murmured words of praise in her ear, thanking her for keeping him safe.

  He had just finished and sent his riding tack off with an assistant when Sergeant Navera appeared out of the crowd. She rushed over to Orivan and Tatiana, clasping their hands tightly.

  “I’m so sorry,” she told them, her face grim. “You all faced insurmountable odds today, and I’m grateful to see the both of you unharmed. The guards reported that a marewing fell at sunset before our forces arrived, but I didn’t know who it was. If you’re both here, then I’m afraid I have the answer now.”

  Tatiana froze in shock. “Northstar—? But, surely, Philagros is still alive somewhere?”

  Navera shook her head sadly. “No. The guards said both marewing and rider died of their wounds. I’m sorry.”

  Tatiana closed her eyes and her face went even paler. Orivan cried out and caught her just before she crumpled to the ground.

  Navera turned to Varranor with a look of anguish. “I apologize to you too, sir. I thought the capital would be safe, and I sent inexperienced riders here to placate the duchess. I take full responsibility for my mistake.”

  Varranor put a hand on her shoulder. “No one could have known this would happen. I didn’t post anyone here myself, and who can say how much worse it would have been if Galenos was the only rider to face the attack?” He turned to Orivan, holding Tatiana upright. “You should both have medals for your bravery, and your fallen friend will be honored for his sacrifice.”