They left the carriages—and drivers—safely outside the boundary Zephyr designated. With the others well out of earshot, Astar instructed the drivers to return to Ordnung if the group didn’t return within a day, or at any sign of trouble. They’d traveled close enough to the confluence that the waters here were divided into their headwaters striping—the effect as remarkable as Zephyr had described, though no one was in the mood to sightsee now.
Zephyr and Lena had headed out already—Lena riding Zephyr, who was in horse form—to find a high point for Zephyr to take off in gríobhth form. Zephyr had been confident that she could carry Lena, the smallest member of the group, though they’d never tested it before. Astar kicked himself for that oversight. The days of boring travel on the road could’ve been put to better purpose, working out fighting teams and logistics like this.
He simply hadn’t been thinking they’d encounter trouble this soon either, something Ursula would chide him for. Too complacent with growing up in a time of peace and plenty—they’d all heard that complaint from their parents. Lowering to find out they were right all along.
Lesson learned.
Rhy had offered to scout ahead in raven form. If he’d hoped to redeem himself in Lena’s eyes, the verdict there was inconclusive. She’d barely seemed to notice, instead consumed with discussing logistics with Zephyr. Gen had also taken horse form, with Jak astride. She didn’t have an aerial form big enough to carry another person, not until she nailed dragon form. As Jak would be on the ground, as it were, and capable of speech, Astar handed over command to him before he shifted to bear form. Stella shifted to a black jaguar, the two of them able to pace Gen’s lope as they cut through the forest lining the banks of the river.
Astar kept one eye on the sky, hoping Zephyr would demonstrate good sense and abort takeoff as the gríobhth if Lena’s weight proved too much for her. The image of her broken-winged at the bottom of a cliff plagued him until he caught sight of her golden form in the sky. Even in the low light of the persistent winter overcast, she shone like a ray of sunlight. Astar breathed an internal sigh of relief—then switched to worrying that she’d be careless about being observed, though they’d all agreed having her get Lena close to the weather anomaly took precedence over discretion—and picked up his pace.
Zephyr had said they’d know it when they were getting close—and Astar didn’t need Rhy’s raven call to confirm it. Everything felt wrong, and in a way that particularly unsettled his bear senses. Gen snorted, her steady hoofbeats on the loam breaking into a scattered rhythm as she pranced nervously. Jak patted her neck soothingly. “Steady on, Gen,” he said, then glanced at Astar. “Problem?”
Astar shook his great head, the best he could do in that form. Not a problem they’d be running away from, that was. Stella snarled quietly, but otherwise leapt on undaunted.
At Rhy’s croaking signal, they diverged. Astar plunged into the River Danu, swimming swiftly to reach the distant bank. Gen kicked up her speed, galloping away to cross the Phoenix above the confluence, and Stella disappeared into the woods, where she’d be pacing him on that side of the river. Zephyr had said most of the disruption was in the triangle of land upstream of the confluence, so hopefully by coming in at it from all sides, they’d get a better sense of what was going on—and possibly be able to outflank it.
Or he’d divided his forces so they’d be picked off by whatever was out there. Astar had studied plenty of strategy, but making decisions in the moment was totally different—especially when he was sweating over losing the people he loved, not just a valued game piece to the ruthless Ursula or canny Dafne. He could never beat either of them—and hadn’t even come close the few times Dafne had pressed him to play the convoluted Nahanaun strategy game of kiauo. Lena insisted that the only person who could beat Dafne was Nakoa, but Lena at least challenged her mother. Whereas Astar was always left trying to figure out how he’d lost so fast.
That always gave him a feeling of futility, of being supremely not up to the challenge, uncomfortably close to how he felt right then. Surely commanders in battles didn’t feel this way—simultaneously shocked that everyone just ran off to do their bidding, and a guilty desperation to call them back.
Too late now.
He plunged forward into the wrongness, skin shivering with it so his ruff stood on end. No wonder Zephyr had come back in such a panic. If he hadn’t been braced for it and firmly decided in his human brain to keep going forward, he no doubt would have gone scampering back to safety.
As it was, he drew on the grizzly’s inherent confidence that came from being at the top of the food chain, something he wished he had more of in human form. Through the trees, he glimpsed the confluence ahead and slowed his pace, keeping to the shadows. He sensed Stella doing the same across the river, though he couldn’t see her and the wind was wrong for him to catch her scent.
Rhy landed nearby, transforming into human shape in his standard attire of black pants and loose shirt. Quickly crouching behind some brush, he kept his eyes on the triangle of land across the confluence and spoke quietly. “Everyone is in position but Jak and Gen—she had to go a bit farther upstream to find a good ford. Zeph and Lena are circling just above the cloud ceiling where she’s out of sight and it’s sunny enough to keep Lena warm while she concentrates on mapping out the magic disturbance.”
Astar grunted in acknowledgment. Shifting consumed energy, especially for a single-form shifter like him, so he’d stay in bear form unless he needed thumbs or speech.
Jak’s shout echoed down the river. “That’s our signal,” Rhy said. “They’re across, so I’m taking bear form too for fighting, unless you still want me aloft.”
Astar shook his head and pointed his snout at the tumult on the opposite shore. Rhy grinned, tossing him a little salute. “I hope this isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Rhy remarked. “Although I wouldn’t mind seeing some of my past mistakes knocked off the top ten list.” With that, he shivered with enviable ease into black bear form, and the two of them plunged into the river, making for the troubled shore.
~ 12 ~
It was almost peaceful, circling above the clouds in the golden sunshine, Lena a soft and quiet weight on her back. Yes, her wings were getting a little tired—she wasn’t accustomed to carrying any weight at all, and now regretted ignoring her father’s advice to train more—but even with the strain of staying aloft at that height, being up there in the clean air was so much better than that… turmoil below.
She’d been glad enough of Astar’s assignment that she carry Lena, because it spared her the continuing embarrassment of how she’d acted like a frightened gruntling, scurrying to safety with her metaphorical tail between her legs. Good thing the peregrine form couldn’t contort that way, or she might’ve done it literally. Even more humiliating, she’d flung herself into Astar’s arms, clinging to him like a limpet—and it hadn’t been sexually motivated at all.
After what she’d seen and felt, sex was the last thing on her mind, and all she’d wanted from Astar’s gorgeously muscled body was comfort. Which he’d offered and she’d sucked up like a babe with a bottle of warm milk.
What was wrong with her?
“All right, Zeph,” Lena said. “I think I’ve got an idea what’s going on here, but I need to convene with Nilly. Can you take us down?”
Zeph clacked her beak in agreement, steeling herself not to be such a coward, folded her wings, and dove into the clouds. She hadn’t changed her mind that they needed to help those people down there—but conviction didn’t make one brave, it turned out.
Lena whooped with excitement as they dropped, which bolstered Zeph’s spirits. Taking someone flying for the first time brought a special pleasure Zeph hadn’t expected. Of course, flying was among her earliest memories, since her First Form was winged—and somehow she’d never thought about how Lena had never experienced it. From the first moments of their takeoff—Zeph not at all sure she’d be able to keep from crashing�
�Lena had sung out with joy that flying was even better than surfing. A strong statement from Lena, and one that heartened Zeph enough to find the power in her body to pump her wings and compensate for the ungainly weight.
They burst through the clouds into a dismal scene. The malevolent fog swirled over the entire city of Gieneke, which filled the triangle of land formed by the joining of the Grace and Phoenix Rivers. The ferry boats that plied the two rivers above the confluence were all docked on the far banks, people thronging the shores, pointing at the bizarre sight in the town. Some people were trying to swim to the other shore, but struggled as if against a mighty current that had nothing to do with the flow of the rivers. Some even moved backward, flailing against the invisible pull to no avail. Hopefully no one would be paying attention to the sight of a gríobhth in the sky—or would assume she was just another mishmash monster, galling as that was.
“There’s Stella!” Lena shouted, pointing alongside Zeph’s neck to the black jaguar climbing onto a deserted pier and vigorously shaking herself dry. “Can you put us down there?”
Not sure if that was the best idea, Zeph dove for the spot. So far everyone seemed to be unharmed. Was the malicious force attacking only the townsfolk? Astar and Rhy, both in bear form, were still swimming toward a set of piers on the opposite side of town. With her sharp gríobhth eyes, Zeph picked out Gen galloping at full speed down the deserted trade road that led to the town from the north, Jak low on her back. Only Stella so far had physically entered the town itself, where the wrongness was most intense. She and Lena would be next.
I’m not interested in being a dead hero, she thought to herself, echoing Rhy’s sentiment. It wasn’t a noble one, not like pretty much everything that came out of Astar’s mouth, but she sympathized with Rhy’s cynical take.
She hit the planks of the wooden pier harder than she meant to, not quite compensating for the extra weight, and galloped a distance to scrub off speed and impact, Stella loping into a sprint alongside them. When Zeph pulled to a halt, panting with the effort, Lena immediately jumped off. “Can you stay in this form to defend us?” she asked. “I don’t think anyone’s around to see you. But you could switch to another fighting form, especially if you need to shift to recover.”
Zeph shook her head and stationed herself between Lena and Stella—who’d shifted to human form at Lena’s signal—and the boiling fog consuming the town. She positioned herself so she could see both her friends and the town, keeping her keen ears sharp for sounds coming from the water behind them, just in case. It would be good to shift and restore herself, but she also wanted to be ready for anything—and the advantage of the gríobhth form was she had multiple methods of defense: beak, talons, and the whiplike tail. Even her powerful wings worked to thrust attackers away.
She might be a monster to some, but she was a monster very good at killing.
Lena and Stella were holding hands and saying a chant together—something Zeph had never seen them do before. Could be they were revealing arcane sorceress secrets under pressure, or they’d recently learned the method, maybe from Andi at Ordnung that night. Or they were making something up on the fly. Whichever it was, Zeph prayed to Moranu to clear their path—because trouble was coming their way. She clacked her beak in warning, but the sorceresses didn’t respond.
An immense form began to take shape as it emerged from the amorphous cloud. A grinning head sat atop a spindly neck that shouldn’t be able to support the weight of that misshapen globe. Mostly featureless, the face consisted mainly of two enormous dark eyes and a gaping mouth. Glowing chalk white, the hugely tall figure was roughly human shaped, but there its connection to humanity ended. The gangly body moved with disjointed and eerie grace, the long limbs clearly made of something other than flesh. Stone, perhaps.
And, as Zeph watched, it cocked its head almost curiously at a group of actual humans fleeing before it. With ease, it plucked up two of the people, unperturbed by their struggles and wildly stabbing weapons. One fired an arrow at the thing’s face, and it bounced off harmlessly. The monster held the two flailing humans up, examined them, then casually bit the heads off of both.
Then it mashed the mangled bodies together, a putrid green glow of magic shining briefly. The monster smiled in pleasure and set its creation down, clapping merrily as the floundering amalgam ran in panicked circles, four arms waving helplessly.
Though the gríobhth tended to be fierce and less subject to sentiment in general, Zeph’s gorge rose—and her heart hurt for the people who screamed and wailed, running after their erstwhile loved ones. Still alive for the moment, but beyond recovery. The giant, apparently bored, looked around for new prey and took a step toward their pier. Zeph clacked another warning, the sorceresses oblivious, no longer chanting, but with magic swirling densely in the air around them.
Either Zeph herself or the building magic caught the giant’s attention. It stared across the distance at her, then pointed like a little kid and giggled. The sound scratched over Zeph’s keen ears—and she had to fight not to panic again and flee. She leaned into the gríobhth’s natural ferocity, the hot-blooded territoriality that had made Zyr so unsuitable for kingship. In this case, that worked in her favor, and she was far more capable of holding her ground than the skittish peregrine had been.
The giant was definitely focused on them, gliding in their direction with that uncanny light grace—and with no regard for a row of pretty cottages arranged on the bank, directly in its path. One bonelike foot kicked a cottage and it burst like a balloon, spilling screaming children like ants. Their scurrying caught the giant’s attention and it crouched to watch with gleeful fascination.
A lone woman ran up, a bow in hand, placing herself between the monster and the fleeing children as she took the stance of an experienced archer. Though her hair was dark and curly, she could otherwise be Zeph’s mother, Karyn. She might come close to Karyn’s skill, too, the way she began smoothly firing arrows at the monster’s eyes, so rapidly there was no discernible pause between release and nocking a new arrow.
She hit her mark every time, too, the arrows flying cleanly into the open orbits of the eye cavities—and seeming to disappear into the void within. Though the giant seemed to be using those “eyes” to see—judging by its behavior—they clearly were no more made of living flesh than the rest of it. The giant rubbed the hole where its nose would be, snorting as if something tickled. Then it lowered its spindly hand, cocked its spidery fingers like a kid shooting marbles, and flicked the archer into the river.
The woman sailed limply, falling like a rock and sinking—and everything in Zeph wanted to fly to her assistance, to drag her out of the water—but she couldn’t leave Lena and Stella unprotected. The archer’s bow popped up, floating lazily in the red clay current, and Zeph began praying to Moranu for assistance. If they had a chance to stop this thing, it had to be sorcery.
The archer had at least bought time for the escaping children, because they’d all disappeared from sight. The giant looked around, picked up a couple of cottages off their foundations, and shook them, looking disappointed when no more scurrying distractions emerged.
Zeph saw the moment the monster remembered her, and the sorceresses broiling their attractive magic—who were no more cognizant of the danger than before. Maybe less so, with the zing of magic in the air like lightning poised to strike. What would she do if the giant reached them—push the pair of them into the water? She couldn’t lift them onto her back, and even if she could, she could only carry one at a time.
If she could only take dragon form, it would solve all her problems. She could incinerate that giant to ash, pluck up her friends in her front talons, and fly them back to the safety of Ordnung’s walls in no time.
But she didn’t have dragon form—and likely never would.
She did have the power of the gríobhth, however, and she would have to use every bit of that form’s ability to fight the giant. And hope. But that would mean leaving the oblivi
ous sorceresses completely undefended. Astar had ordered her to defend Lena at all costs—but didn’t that mean figuring out the best way to protect her? This being-a-soldier thing was terrible. She was no good at it. The giant was sniffing the air, then zeroed in on her and smiled. Moranu, I know I’m not a devoted acolyte or your chosen, but now would be an excellent time to convince me.
Instead of standing again, the giant dropped onto hands and knees, crawling forward as it advanced on her. And it morphed as it moved, limbs becoming leonine tipped with talons, a long whiplike tail growing into the sky, wings spreading, face contorting into a rough approximation of her own eagle’s head and curved beak.
Charming.
It wasn’t a shapeshifter—not like the Tala who instantly took on a new shape, as if swapping it out from another, intangible realm—but more like a chameleon, taking on the image of something that intrigued it.
By the time it stepped onto the pier, the monster looked like a child’s modeling clay version of a gryphon—and easily five times her height. The sorceresses still hadn’t moved. And Zeph couldn’t risk the giant coming close to Lena and Stella.
Zeph charged.
With a sharp-edged lion’s roar, she galloped at full speed down the pier. More cottages, shops, and vendor’s stalls filled the middle section of the pier, so Zeph picked the side away from where Lena and Stella stood at the end, keeping the giant’s gaze on her, with the buildings between its line of sight and her friends. Hopefully it couldn’t just look over the top at them from its soaring height.
Moranu, she really hoped she wasn’t sacrificing herself for them. Especially so early in the quest—and without realizing her goal of bedding Astar. I’m not interested in being a dead hero. Well, she wouldn’t be. She could do this.
Racing at her top speed, she also hoped the giant wouldn’t realize she could fly. It crouched down like a playful cat, rump in the air and tail lashing as if it would pounce. Closer. Just a little closer. This was like the Tala children’s game of I Eat You, where the one able to take the form that did the most damage won—and she had no intention of losing.
The Golden Gryphon and the Bear Prince: An Epic Fantasy Romance (Heirs of Magic Book 1) Page 11