Gryphon
Brian W. Foster
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DEDICATION
For my wife, Amanda, for being my friend, my partner, and my inspiration.
Copyright © 2017 by Brian W. Foster
All rights reserved, included the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
OTHER BOOKS BY BRIAN W. FOSTER
Rise of the Mages Series
Abuse of Power (Prequel Novella) – aop.authorbrianwfoster.com
Rise of the Mages (Book 1) – rotm.authorbrianwfoster.com
Gryphon (Book 2) – gry.authorbrianwfoster.com
Repulsive Trilogy
“Repulsive Origins: The Captain” (Prequel Short Story) – rotc.authorbrianwfoster.com
Repulsive (Book 1) – rep.authorbrianwfoster.com
Attractive (Book 2, early 2018) – att.authorbrianwfoster.com
Explosive (Book 3, early 2018) – exp.authorbrianwfoster.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
1.
2.
3.
4.
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96.
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98.
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100.
101.
102.
103.
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgments and Edition Notes
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
If you need a refresher on what happened in the previous books in the series, you can find summaries of Abuse of Power and Rise of the Mages on my website:
authorbrianwfoster.com/riseb4
Prologue
Tasia’s mouth went dry.
Words froze on her tongue.
“My lady?” the captain said. “I asked why you need to leave the city.”
Behind him, the gate—twelve feet high and made of steel-encased wood that took three men to swing open—stood very much closed. Xan was on the other side somewhere. Maybe hurt. Hopefully just hurt.
She had to get through.
Think. Ashley would simply order the man to stand aside, but Tasia wasn’t the niskma. She had to be strong. Like Lainey.
Tasia pressed her fists against her waist in her best imitation of Xan’s sister and glared at the captain. Unfortunately, that meant she wasn’t holding on to anything, and her stupid horse chose that moment to step to the side.
The saddle was wet from drizzling rain. She slipped. Her hands grasped frantically for the pommel.
There. She found purchase and steadied herself.
At least she didn’t fall, but glowering was somewhat difficult when one fought not to bust one’s butt.
Tasia frowned. “Captain, do you have orders to prevent me from leaving the city?”
“No, my lady, but …”
Tasia almost corrected him. Even after all these years in the castle, she still felt like a fraud when anyone referred to her as a noble, but maybe she could, for once, put it to good use. “Then, let me pass.”
“My lady, there is too much danger. Truna’s army is in disarray, and many of them have turned to banditry. I cannot spare men to escort you on a ride outside the gate.”
Tasia held up one of her saddlebags. “This isn’t some jaunt for the fun of it. There are people who need medical attention.”
She winced internally. Tender Morris was going to have her doing penance for a month for telling lies like that one, but she had no choice. Seeing as how Duke Asher had ordered that Xan be killed on sight, the captain would never let her leave the safe confines of the gate if she told him her true mission.
For two days, she’d been stuck in the castle not knowing Xan’s fate. He could be dying. Or … she swallowed hard … dead.
He’d been shot and was clearly overextended. She’d watched his descent until he’d disappeared below the treeline, and it hadn’t looked controlled. If he passed out, the fall would have been fatal. Or if he pushed himself too hard, severing himself from the magic could have killed him. Or the arrow could have punctured his heart.
Please, Holy One, don’t let him be dead.
There’d been no sign of him since his fall, though that was a good thing considering the duke’s orders. He was, in fact, the soldiers’ top priority, even more than driving off remnants of Truna’s army. Of course, their efforts had been hampered by her having pointed them in the wrong direction.
She sighed. More penance.
“I am sure your mission is of vital importance, my lady, but I cannot pull men from other duties to escort—”
“I can take care of myself!” Tasia clutched the pommel. “Either let me pass, or I bring the duke himself here. Trust me when I say that the first of those options is better for your career.”
The poor captain glanced up at the castle. Tasia would have to do penance for that as well. The man was just trying to do his job, and she was bullying him into something that could get him demoted.
If the duke ever found out she left the city, she was going to be in so much trouble. She tensed. Forget the duke. If Ashley ever found out …
But she had to find Xan.
Finally, the captain motioned for the gate to be opened, and she eased through before he could change his mind. As soon as she was clear, she urged the horse faster. Miles and miles lay before her, and Xan could be anywhere. Even with her ability to sense life, finding
him would be difficult if she had a week—nay, a month. No telling when or if she’d be able to get away again, so she could only count on having a day.
Trees and road and terrain hurtled past her. The horse bounded over a hill, and she nearly flew from the saddle. She was going to get herself killed.
Okay, so maybe none of the soldiers or, really, anyone would think she rode all that fast, but to her, it might as well have been a gallop. Worse, the road—if it could be called that—was a sloppy mess of mud.
The horse’s hoof slid, and for an instant, the creature skidded off balance. Tasia’s heart pounded, but the beast righted itself without toppling.
Sheets of water pelted Tasia, drenching her through her worthless cloak. She shivered.
If someone had told her a month ago that she’d beg off a shift at the hospital to go for a ride on a horse outside the town gate in the rain while bandits were about and, oh yeah, do so in direct contradiction to the duke’s orders, she’d have had that someone locked up for being delusional. Instead, she was in danger of finding herself put away if she didn’t hide her actions from the doctors.
That boy had disrupted her life in so many ways.
She should just return to the castle. Go to the hospital. Relax in front of a fire in her room. Read a book. Anything but search the vast countryside in what was sure to be a fruitless attempt to find him.
Tasia sighed. Of course, without him, she had no idea how they could ever hope to defeat Dastanar. He was, after all, a wizard. A real life wizard! Like the Eagle and the Lion. Like something out of a storybook.
Bermau needed him!
And it wasn’t like she was just coming up with rationalizations or anything. Right. Because she’d venture out in the rain on a horse because of her deep, abiding concern for the kingdom’s political and military situation.
That kiss. His lips on hers. Her body pressed against his. Despite the battle raging around them, only the two of them existed in that instant. An instant that she wished could have lasted forever but that she had broken off all too soon.
Why, again, had she done that?
Oh yeah. It probably had something to do with all the soldiers trying to kill him.
She just wished the kiss had meant as much to him as it did to her. He’d gotten caught up in the moment. Embraced her on impulse.
And that proposal had obviously been a desperate cry for help. He’d been lonely, and she happened to be the first girl that had sprung to mind.
He’d thought of her. That was something, at least, but not what she wanted.
Someone who’d been engaged to Ashley, someone destined to influence history … Tasia’s eyes watered. Well, he couldn’t possibly be interested in her.
The horse slipped again, and Tasia nearly fell, tilting to the right. Nearly a mile passed before she regained her seat.
She rounded a bend and discovered several people huddled underneath a wagon that had pulled onto the grass. Horses grazed nearby.
Tasia slowed and reached out with her life magic. A man and a woman with three children, all cold and wet but relatively healthy for all that.
The hospital in Asherton was full of refugees like them. Truna’s army had marauded through dozens of villages before the attack. They’d burned homes and crops. Murdered on a whim. Done unspeakable things to women.
Though the siege and battle hadn’t lasted long, its impact would be felt for generations. So many villagers had been displaced with no idea how they’d survive the coming winter. If only Duke Asher could take them all in, but even the city wasn’t big enough for everyone. And its food stores had limits.
Wishing she had more to offer, Tasia passed the family with a friendly wave.
The light, already dim beneath the clouds, lessened. She looked up. A heavy storm was rolling in. Great.
She reached out again with her life sense and detected ten people in the woods off the road, hidden well off the path. One was sick and two injured. Most likely more refugees.
Tasia wanted to ride past them without stopping. If she helped every group she came across, she’d never have any chance of finding Xan. But her duty was to provide aid.
And hey, if she helped people in need of medical assistance, what she told the captain wouldn’t be an actual lie, right?
Somehow, she doubted Tender Morris would see it that way.
With a sigh, she reined her horse to a stop and tried to dismount. Her foot got caught in the stirrup. She fell, landing on her butt in the mud.
Double great.
By the time she gained her feet, she was caked in messy, smelly, sticky sludge. Well, one good thing about pouring rain was that it would eventually wash her clean.
Tasia walked into the trees and detected a person—probably a man from the volume of life she sensed—hidden behind some bushes. “Hello?”
He didn’t answer.
“I’m from the castle. Do you need any help?” She stepped closer.
He popped up, a pitchfork in his hand pointed at her. “How did you know I was here?”
Well, she couldn’t exactly answer that question without terrifying him. “Do you have any injured?”
He advanced with the pitchfork. “Answer me!”
She put her hands on her hips and looked him in the eye. “I am Lady Tasia Knox, niece of Archduke Asher, cousin to the niskma. Who are you to make demands of me?”
His demeanor changed, not bowing but coming close. “I’m so sorry, my lady.”
She glanced pointedly at the pitchfork.
He threw it down.
“What’s your name?” she said.
“Beau.”
“Well met, Beau.” Tasia smiled pleasantly, something that usually worked to put patients at ease. “Now, are there any in your group who are sick or injured? I’m trained as a nurse.”
He nodded slowly. “I reckon we had some troubles, my lady, but it ‘tisn’t nothing we can’t handle.”
“Take me to them.”
As they walked, he told his story, one she’d heard too many times since Truna’s attack. Duke Irdrin’s army had torched their farms after scavenging all their food. A gang of bandits took all the rest. They barely escaped with their lives.
When they reached the party, Tasia went right to work. The worst problem was a boy, no more than thirteen years old, with an arrow through his leg. He burned with fever.
Nothing they couldn’t handle? Really? Without her help, the boy most likely wouldn’t survive the infection.
After giving him sugar ash for the pain, she had two of the men snap the arrow and pull it from his leg. The boy screamed through clenched teeth, his attempt to be brave abandoned in his agony, but there wasn’t much she could do about that. She’d given him the largest dose she could.
His tormented wails continued unabated as she smeared paste from an eastern climbing belle on both wounds and sewed them closed. If the medicine worked quickly enough, he’d live, but he’d never walk again. And he’d be in misery for days, if not weeks, unless she used magic.
But that was such a bad idea. Duke Asher had Dylan, Lainey, Lucan, and Brant working in shifts to constantly sense for use.
Tasia grimaced. Healing the boy would announce that she’d acted without permission. Worse, if there were still any enemy mages about, it would attract their attention, putting her life in danger.
The boy sobbed.
Her safety versus his suffering wasn’t much of a choice. She infused him with magic, and after a few moments, his cries calmed.
“With rest, he should be fine.”
She moved to another man, who had a knot on his temple and complained of a headache. A series of questions showed him to have a mild concussion, so she gave him a short burst of healing and some honeybud leaves with instructions to brew them into a tea.
“He’ll be fine as well.”
The third patient was on the mend from a common fever, and Tasia boosted the woman’s lifeforce to speed recovery a tad.
; What a blessing the magic was. By adding a brief touch, Tasia was sure all three would get better with no further problems, and she’d relieved days of suffering. She was so glad she’d learned to use her gift. Maybe one day she’d even be able to help people openly with it.
Until then, though, she’d just have to admit what she’d done to the duke and accept the consequences. Eventually, anyway. There was no need to confess until after she’d found Xan.
She groaned. Another penance.
Tasia gave the refugees a few coins, making a mental note to grab a bigger purse and more provisions before her next outing, and having spent nearly an hour of the dwindling day, she hustled to her horse.
After managing, somehow, to get back on the beast, she continued her journey, scanning for signs of life. Around a bend, she sensed a group of three people, probably men, but didn’t think much about it. More refugees.
She rounded the curve, expecting either to see them or sense them hiding deep in the woods like the last group. Instead, two were within a few feet of the road, but none were in sight.
Weird.
Something flew toward her. An arrow.
Bandits.
She flinched. The arrow was high and to the right, but recoiling from it caused her to lose her balance. Her hand slipped off the wet pommel. Helpless, she slid off the horse.
Her shoulder slammed onto a rock.
Pop!
Sharp pain shot through her arm, so much so that she couldn’t think. She moved. Or tried to. At the slight twitch, a fresh wave of agony hit her.
Must have broken her arm. She opened herself to the magic, and the pain eased.
A man wearing the burgundy livery of Truna rounded the horse. He let out a long, low whistle. “The fortunes smiled upon me today.”
“What you got?” a voice shouted.
“A girl. Noble by the look of the dress. Pretty, too!” The man standing over Tasia laughed. “And she’s alone. C’mon, you gotta see this.”
Tasia had little time. She didn’t know if she could handle draining life from three men at once. Xan had done much more than that, but she wasn’t as experienced or as strong as him.
Her shoulder felt better by the instant as she channeled more and more magic into herself. She groaned, feigning intense pain.
Gryphon (Rise of the Mages Book 2) Page 1