Warriors of Wing and Flame

by Sara B. Larson

  Loukas stared at me, a muscle in his jaw tightening. “You felt … everyone?”

  Grandmother’s eyebrows lifted again, uncertainty crossing her face, but she only said, “There’s a map in the council room. We can go there right now.”

  I followed her into the hallway, Loukas falling into step behind me.

  “What do you mean you felt everyone?” he asked again, but I didn’t respond, choosing to let him mull that one over for a bit.

  Grandmother led us to the same room where the meeting had taken place the night before, though the table and chairs were all empty once more. She marched over to the far wall, where a large map hung.

  I came up beside her, examining the drawing, trying to orient myself.

  “This is Soluselis,” she said, pointing at a large city on the map. “That’s where we are.”

  I stared at the spot she’d pointed at, trying to figure out how to pinpoint where I’d felt Barloc’s presence.

  “Well?” Loukas prompted from behind us, all impatience and doubt.

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted, heat creeping up my neck, into my cheeks. “Perhaps if you could take me back to where I was last night when I was in the light, I can point the direction I felt his presence.”

  “You can point?” Loukas scoffed, but Grandmother cut him off.

  “That would be helpful—it’s better than trying to guess.”

  We all headed back out into the hallway, but this time we used the connecting hallways that led us into the center of the castle. As we walked, I felt a pull, a presence of sorts, drawing me toward it. So familiar and powerful, even if Grandmother hadn’t been walking the direction it came from, I wasn’t sure I would have been able to resist it.

  Then, up ahead at the end of the hall, I noticed a glow. The pull grew even stronger; it attached to the kernel of light and power inside me, filling me with warmth and a need to hurry, to get to the source of that glow faster. It took all of my willpower to force my feet to walk, not to dash ahead of Grandmother.

  When we entered the room, I faltered to a stunned halt. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Glittering diamond balustrades encircled the center of the room, refracting the light that filled every inch of space with its glow and power. Slowly, reverently, I moved toward the origin of the light, held back from walking straight into it by the diamond railing.

  “This is the luxem magnam. The birthplace of all Paladin power, where the First Paladin—a male and a female—were born out of the light, each with three gifts of power, thousands of years ago,” Grandmother said, her voice hushed. “This is where we brought you last night, in supplication to heal you, when no one else could succeed in saving your life.”

  Tears welled in my eyes as I stared down at the beautiful, undulating light. The power she’d gifted me pulsed beneath my heart, filling my body with warmth and life. The luxem magnam glimmered brighter, as if it recognized me.

  “We laid you in the light and prayed for you to be saved. The healers all failed … and you were dying. There was nothing else we could do. I never dreamed…” Grandmother’s glowing Paladin eyes met my own.

  “Thank you,” I whispered—to her, to Loukas, to the luxem magnam. It was insignificant, impossibly inadequate, but it was all I could offer in gratitude for the gift I’d been given.

  I held on to the banister, the diamonds cool beneath my hands, and let the light wash over and around me. Grandmother fell quiet, and even Louk stayed silent, as I stood there.

  Finally, I forced myself to turn back to her and said, “Where was I when you brought me here?”

  “When we laid you in the light, your head was back there, and your feet were here.” Grandmother pointed.

  “How did you lay me in there, with the banister in the way?”

  “Loukas held you and climbed over it.”

  I noticed a shudder go through Louk out of the corner of my eye.

  “Thank you,” I repeated, turning to him.

  He didn’t respond. His face was a mask, but his green eyes gleamed in the rippling light of the luxem magnam, searing through me with their intensity. Heat unfurled in my chest, quickly dropping to settle low in my belly, completely different than the warmth from the luxem magnam or the power I finally had back; it somehow ached inside me, sending my heart slamming against my ribs.

  Unsettled and flustered, I faced the banister once more, willing the coolness from the diamonds to send the unfamiliar sensation away.

  “Can you tell us where you felt him?” Grandmother prompted.

  I nodded, with a slow exhale to calm my still-pounding heartbeat, unsure why it was continuing to race—or why it had started to in the first place.

  “If I was lying that way, then I felt his presence that direction.” I pointed across the room.

  Grandmother followed where I pointed and her hopeful expression fell.

  “That’s the direction of Folten,” Loukas said, the first words he’d spoken since we’d come to the luxem magnam. “Where the bodies were found.”

  “Yes,” Grandmother confirmed, defeated. “It was him, then. As we suspected.” She turned to me. “Loukas told us last night that ever since Barloc stole your power, you have a connection with him—that you see flashes of where he is when he uses it. Have you seen anything? Any hint of what he’s doing or where he’s going?”

  My eyes narrowed on him. Why had he shared that without asking if I wished for the Paladin here to know it? He refused to meet my gaze. “No, I haven’t seen anything. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you if I do.”

  There was a pause, then Loukas pointed out, “Folten is one of the closest cities to the gateway. It can’t be a coincidence that he’s there.”

  Tension rolled off Grandmother in waves, disconcerting and out of place for such a sacred place—a room where peace should have held supreme. “If he can tear portals between our worlds with a Paladin knife and his power, I don’t know that it matters where he is in relation to the gateway anymore.”

  “Unless he’s trying to bring others with him. The portal he made only lasted for a few seconds—and the expenditure of the power to do it left him unconscious.”

  They shared a dark glance, and then without a word, Grandmother strode out of the room. Loukas quickly followed. Though I wished to linger, to absorb more of the healing, comforting light of the luxem magnam, I reluctantly hurried after them.

  “Didn’t a battalion already leave to investigate the bodies?” Loukas was asking.

  “Yes, but I’m afraid one battalion won’t be enough after all. We need to send as many of our forces as we can spare. He must be stopped.”

  * * *

  While Grandmother called together the members of the High Council once more, I asked Loukas if he would take me to see Sukhi. He agreed, but did so with a scowl. I tried not to let his obvious irritation sting.

  “What does it mean to be marked by a gryphon?” I asked as we walked back to the stables. It was hard to believe it had only been six or seven hours since I’d collapsed in front of her stall. How could someone change so entirely in such a short time? I’d gone from empty, weak, frightened, and alone, to healed, full of power and hope, even purpose.

  He took a few more steps before deigning to respond. “It’s how a gryphon picks their Rider. It is an unbreakable bond between the gryphon and the Paladin they choose—one only death can sever. And even then, the survivor will feel the loss tremendously. I’ve heard it described as having a piece of your soul rent apart.”

  I thought of how I’d sensed the sorrow within Sukhi last night, how I’d been drawn to her—how I’d felt prompted to comfort her. Had it been because I was meant to be her new Rider? Was that why she’d chosen me so quickly after losing her previous Rider, something Grandmother had been shocked by? The wound she’d given me was healed, presumably by the luxem magnam, but a scar remained—a reminder of the bond she’d sealed upon us when she marked me.

  “Will you teach me how to be a Rider
?”

  Loukas stiffened. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  Another unexpected sting. I tried to ignore it. “Why not?”

  “It just isn’t, all right?”

  He lengthened his strides, storming ahead of me.

  The fissure of doubt from earlier that morning cracked even wider. I thought we had started to become friends, but it seemed I was mistaken. Though I was afraid I was only inviting him to inflict more hurt upon me, I forced myself to hurry and catch up.

  “Louk … wait…” I managed to reach his side and put my hand on his arm. I’d only been trying to slow him down, but he slammed to a halt and spun to face me, glaring at my fingers on his sleeve. “Are … are you mad at me?” I managed, despite the obvious anger on his face.

  “What are you playing at, Inara?” he bit out, yanking his arm away, so sharply it startled me.

  “I … I don’t understand…”

  “I didn’t think it possible, but you are even more naïve than your sister was,” he spat, and turned to storm up to the stable door, pulling it open with so much force, I was afraid he might rip it clean off its hinges.

  I stood there, staring at his retreating back, baffled and embarrassed, unsure if I dared press forward and continue to reach out to him. He obviously wanted nothing to do with me.

  A flicker of memory rose unbidden, the pain I’d felt in the light—his pain.

  Nervous and uncertain, I forced myself to go after him—one last time.

  The stable was a different place in the morning. Other Paladin bustled about, leading gryphons from their stalls, or bringing armfuls of dead rodents to them. Loukas was easy to spot, taller than nearly all of them, his dark hair a beacon in the sunshine that gleamed through the skylights and windows—that and the way everyone avoided him, turning their faces away, moving to the other side of the path, creating a wide berth around him. He was surrounded by activity but had never looked so lost and alone as he did standing in front of Maddok’s stall, resolutely ignoring them all.

  I moved slowly toward him. When I passed Sukhi’s stall, she had already pushed her head over the door and clacked her beak at me eagerly.

  “Just a second, girl,” I murmured, continuing on past her.

  I was certain Loukas knew when I walked up to him—I was the only one willing to stand by his side, it seemed—but he refused to acknowledge me, continuing to rub Maddok’s neck methodically.

  “I’m sorry I upset you,” I said.

  He ignored me, but a muscle in his jaw jumped as if he’d clenched his teeth.

  “Thank you for saving my life,” I continued, refusing to be cowed. The old Inara would have been too scared to press on. But something had happened to me in the light, a newfound courage pumped through my veins along with the Paladin power. It wasn’t infallible. But it was there, and I clung to it as his fingers curled into fists in Maddok’s feathers.

  “You want to learn how to be a Rider? Go get a saddle and put it on Sukhi. Meet me out front of the stable.”

  With that, he opened the door to Maddok’s stall, walked in, and slammed it shut on me.

  I stood there for a moment before spinning on my heel, in search of a saddle. Perhaps, if we got away from all the other Paladin—if he really was willing to teach me how to ride—I could figure out what I’d done to make him so angry.

  * * *

  I had to ask another Paladin to help me put the saddle on Sukhi. She’d seemed concerned and a little bit suspicious when I tried to convince her the gryphon had marked me.

  “You aren’t a Rider,” she’d accused. “I’ve never seen you before.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Loukas had said as he stomped past, Maddok on his heels.

  The unknown Paladin had jumped back, out of his path, her eyes widening. But she’d retrieved a saddle for me without another word and told me how to hook the straps around Sukhi’s torso. Luckily the gryphon held perfectly still for me. Once I’d double-checked every strap, she followed me out of her stall, then down the pathway to the open doors out of the stable.

  “I don’t really know what I’m doing,” I admitted to her in a whisper, “so try to make this easy for me, all right?”

  She hooted softly, butting her beak into my arm as if she actually understood and meant to reassure me.

  Loukas stood by Maddok’s side, a tall, dark thundercloud waiting to break in the middle of all that lush green grass and brilliant sunshine.

  “You managed to do it. I’m impressed.” His tone said otherwise, but I smiled sweetly at him as Sukhi and I stopped a few feet away.

  “I’m a fast learner. I’ve had to be.”

  Something crossed his face, a wisp of some emotion far less caustic than those he’d exhibited so far, but before I could pinpoint what, it was gone.

  “If you’re going to be a true Rider, you will have to get on and off your gryphon by yourself. No more help from me.”

  But in typical fashion, he didn’t tell me how exactly I was supposed to do that. He merely turned to Maddok, easily climbed into the saddle, and sat there, waiting for me.

  I faced Sukhi and whispered, “How do I get on your back?”

  She gave me a nudge with her beak. I swallowed and walked around her folded wing to her flank. There was no stirrup, like I’d seen illustrated on a horse, something I’d never thought to miss before now—when Loukas had always given me a boost into the saddle before climbing on behind me. And though Sukhi was a bit smaller than Maddok, she was still enormous, far too tall for me to yank myself up and over her back. Perhaps, if I’d been practicing all my life and had built up the muscle necessary to do it …

  But I hadn’t. So instead, I stood there, staring up at the impossibly high saddle, defeated but refusing to admit it.

  Then Sukhi bent her front legs, lowering her body much closer to the earth—and to me.

  “Thank you, girl,” I murmured, as I easily grabbed onto the edge of the saddle and jumped, so that my stomach landed on the top of the saddle. From there, I pushed myself up and swung my leg over her other side. Once I was seated, I gathered the reins in my hands and held on tightly as she stood back up fully.

  “I did it,” I announced unnecessarily.

  “Cheater.” Loukas shook his head, glowering at my gryphon.

  But I didn’t care. I grinned like a fool at my victory—at our victory. We were already working together as a team.

  “Now we fly.”

  “Now? You don’t have any instructions to give me? There’s nothing I should know before we just—”

  “Nope,” Loukas cut me off. “Experience is the best teacher. At least, that’s what my parents told me.”

  With that, he pushed his heels into Maddok’s sides, and the gryphon leapt forward, taking off after just a few bounds across the field, quickly gaining height to miss the hedge that was even bigger than the one at home.

  “Well, Sukhi … here we go.”

  I clutched the reins in hands that were suddenly damp, squeezed my legs as tightly as I could, and imitated what he’d done, pushing my heels into her sides.

  When she jumped forward, it nearly unseated me, but I managed to cling to her back as she took two more bounds and then leapt into the sky, her wings unfurling and catching the updraft, carrying us off the ground with a swoop in my stomach and a lurch of my heart into my throat.

  As the world fell away, and Sukhi’s wingbeats turned rhythmic, smoothing out the jerkiness of takeoff, my stomach settled back down where it belonged. My heart still raced—but now it was with exhilaration, with the realization that I was flying by myself on my gryphon’s back. I felt as though I could reach up and brush the sun with my fingertips, letting sunshine drip down my arm and coat my body with its warmth.

  I felt invincible.

  Loukas and Maddok soared away, over the gleaming rooftops of the city surrounding the castle. I tugged on Sukhi’s reins to guide her in the same direction. Once the homes and bustling streets gave
way to fields and then forest, he glanced over his shoulder and lifted one eyebrow, his mouth curving into a sly smile.

  Then he yanked Maddok’s reins and the gryphon cut sharply to the right, so we soared on past them, now heading the wrong direction.

  I quickly followed suit, and Sukhi dipped her wing, cutting back to follow after the other pair. The suddenness of the movement took me by surprise, and I slid partially off the saddle with a half-swallowed scream. But I squeezed my legs harder and managed to stay on the gryphon. Pride and irritation beat in equal parts through my blood.

  He’d done that on purpose—to test me? Or to lose me?

  As soon as he saw us behind him once more, he repeated the maneuver, but to the left—and this time I was prepared for him. I immediately signaled Sukhi, and we chased after them for the next several minutes, as Maddok cut and dove, twisted and then climbed nearly straight up into the sky. I had to press myself flat onto Sukhi’s neck, gripping my saddle with every ounce of strength I could muster in my legs to avoid slipping off her back and plummeting to my death in the forest far, far below.

  But no matter how badly my muscles trembled, or how slick the sweat on my hands made the reins in my grip, I refused to fail at whatever test this was.

  Finally, after yet another nosedive—where Loukas only signaled Maddok to level out mere feet above the treeline, barely giving us a chance to do the same or crash through them—he pulled back on the reins and let the gryphons slow, coasting on the wind that whipped my hair back and stung my eyes.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” I shouted, hoping he couldn’t see the way my legs shook, my muscles quaking from strain.

  He threw back his head and laughed. A sound of such abandonment, it took me completely by surprise. And despite my irritation with him, I couldn’t resist the deep tenor of his laughter and found myself joining in. Sukhi released a piercing caw of triumph.