Grand Theft Griffin

by Michael Angel

  “It’s been known to happen,” I said dryly, but I refused to deviate from the subject at hand. “And so from those three …Ironwood was born. Then Blackthorn. And finally, you.”

  “Even so. There were several years between each of our births. Ingoldir was advanced in age for breeding when she placed my egg in the nest. It weakened her, so that she passed on from a wasting disease by the time I had my first flight feathers.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

  “There is nothing to apologize for. She returned to the Eternal Sky on her own, as it should be, and her life was honored and celebrated. Yet, here is where we griffins have a twist in our nature. A flaw in our character.”

  Holly’s voice had taken on an unmistakable edge as she continued.

  “The act of submitting oneself to bear a True Born is celebrated. But the resulting chick is not. Some say that having True Born is an act of self-importance, of overbearing pride in one’s accomplishments.”

  I remembered Thundercrack’s insults before Holly had beaten him down: Try your martial art on me, child of pride, child of arrogance!

  “So, a True Born may find himself – or herself – shunned from many things. Friends and allies are almost impossible to make. Martial schools make it difficult for you to enter, easy to fail and leave.”

  “That’s just one True Born. I can only imagine what it was like to be the youngest of three.”

  Holly let out a sigh. “My brothers and I were always thrown together, and so that was how we survived. I made my own family. Or at least tried to. The disdain and resentment…it forced us to be better, stronger warriors and leaders than any before us. That shall count for something in the end, I think.”

  “I’m sure it will,” I said. Admittedly, that sounded patronizing, so I tried to follow it up. “No matter your feelings, your father is extremely proud of what you have done. He counts you as the best among griffins.”

  “I am too flawed to be the ‘best’,” she demurred, before fixing me in her golden headlamp glare. “But I am no dullard, Dayna. Do not think that because you know different magic, because you are from another world, that I am of slower wit or weaker of will than you.”

  My mouth went dry in an instant. “I would never think that.”

  Holly’s expression was unreadable. “In that case, to use your phrase, ‘level’ with me. Why are you really here?”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Why are you really here?

  My mouth refused to move. I almost hated myself for that. Holly wasn’t even a suspect any more in my mind, as her feathers lacked the color that marked the griffin on the tape. And she had helped bring me into the innermost workings of the griffin realm.

  But I still couldn’t let her know about what had happened in Los Angeles. It wasn’t personal, I kept telling myself that. It was business. Law enforcement business.

  But then I thought of how Shaw had handled Elder Ulrik. Maybe I could skirt the line a little. Holly deserved that much at least.

  “The health of the griffin warriors is one reason,” I began. “But I can’t say it’s the only one. It’s not even a large part of why I am here. Are you…familiar with the rantings of High Elder Belladonna?”

  “Yes,” Holly confirmed. “Even when scoffed at, they spread like dander-seeds on the wind through the aerie.”

  “Do you think there is any substance to them? The idea of old powers stirring in the dark somewhere?”

  “Oh, aye,” She nodded vigorously. “I think it’s a real threat.”

  “You…do?” I asked, sounding slow on the uptake. “Okay, I didn’t expect you to say that.”

  “My siblings don’t sit atop our nests and sing about it. As you are aware, the Elders do not believe in Belladonna’s visions. And the Elders are not keen on my brothers or myself right now, either.”

  Holly craned her neck to one side, then the other, ensuring that we were well enough alone to talk. She need not have worried. Right now, anyone not busy getting it on was lying asleep in a very pleasant dream state. Satisfied, she went on.

  “Ironwood and I have long suspected the Valkir Pride of seeking magical help outside the aerie for their cause. It is why we have volunteered for as many patrols and guard positions as possible – as with tonight, the least popular night to be on guard duty. You can certainly appreciate why.”

  I nodded. That, and from what Holly tells me, being a True Born is a great way to get snubbed at the griffin equivalent of the High School Prom.

  “We have been watching Thundercrack and others of the Valkir leave to train outside of the griffin lands. They take training equipment where they should not. They return with artifacts which are never shared nor shown outside their part of the aerie. I suspect that these are items of magic.”

  Immediately, that white flash I thought I saw during the pride-spar came to mind. But something else jumped out at me first that I had to ask about. “This training equipment. What kind are we talking about?”

  “Armor. Breastplates and headgear, mostly. And once, a pair of gauntlets. Those are special armor we wear over our forelimbs, in case you didn’t–”

  “I know what those are,” I said eagerly. “Tell me more about when they took that last item outside the aerie.”

  “Ten days ago, Thundercrack took a pair of gauntlets from the armory and back to his pride.”

  “Your father said that your armory doesn’t keep records. How would you know about this?”

  “They do not,” Holly agreed sagely. “I know, because I was serving in the armory at the time. I was the one who both gave out and took back the armor piece. When it was borrowed, Thundercrack vanished from the aerie for two whole days. When he returned, he looked gaunt from flying and the equipment was strangely marked. It disturbed me, because I remember him becoming more vainglorious, more talkative than usual.”

  “What did he say?”

  Holly made a scowl of distaste. “Much of what has always spilled out of that one’s beak: pretentious brags about the power of his pride. About how senile and useless the current Council of Elders is. He said...that the Valkir had friends now. Dark ones. I thought it mere boasting…but perhaps, judging by your questions, it was not boasting of the idle sort.”

  “Maybe. If the Valkir Pride wants to abolish the current ruling council…” I considered. “I know that it’s very rare for a griffin to be dishonorable. But Thundercrack and his pride would at least have motive. That counts for a lot in my line of work, which is solving crime.”

  “Is that a dangerous kind of work?”

  “It can be.”

  “That would explain your courage. And, perhaps, your dragon-hand device.”

  “My dragon-hand…oh, you mean my gun.”

  “Whatever name it is given, it did save my life during the attack on the Kescari beach.”

  “Not just your life. For a while there I was worried about my own life as well. Those two wyverns in the ravine would have killed both of us.”

  “It’s a good thing there wasn’t a third, or fourth! What would you have done?”

  “Well, I always carry a spare magazine – that’s what we call a container with extra bullets – around with me. But it takes a few seconds to put it in place.”

  “I am most grateful that you carry that device. Because without it, I would not have survived long enough for us to have gotten to know each other. Even if you cannot tell me directly why you have chosen to visit. That you seek to fight the old powers of the dark is enough.”

  Was it enough? I somehow doubted it.

  “There is so much I enjoy about your world.” I looked off into the light cast by the moon and the fires. It was easy enough to see the silhouettes of griffins as they lazed about, lying pleasantly exhausted on the sand. “I have a job to complete for mine. And for King Fitzwilliam. If I cannot, then I will be banished.”

  “I thought that he, like many others, valued your counsel.”

 
; “The king does, but his court of Andeluvian noblemen don’t feel the same way.”

  A griffin chuckle. “You and I do share some similar turns on the wheel of fate, then. You with your nobles, I with my elders.”

  “I never thought of it that way, but you have a point. As to who else values my counsel, that’s an open question.”

  “My father is one,” Holly insisted. “He has spoken of your helping others to see their true worth, to unkink the twist of destiny that life has brought them.”

  “That’s happened, true. Mostly it’s just been because I’m a good listener.”

  Holly stared into the glow of the nearby brazier for a while before speaking again. “Have you ever offered counsel for someone…who did something for love? Something that others might find questionable?”

  I looked over at her, but she didn’t return my gaze. “I suppose that I’ve had a few words for my sister, back when we still talked to each other. I think that I was the one who got more counseling for doing ‘questionable’ stuff like that than anyone else, though.”

  “Really? The courageous heart of the Dragon-Hand? I am shocked!”

  Her voice had a gentle teasing tone to it, so I decided to go with it. “When I was seventeen – that’s probably similar to being a fledgling, or a gryphlet – I started going out with a college guy. He was handsome, sure, but I think I was attracted to his seriousness, the way he was so calm and steady. Mom and Dad heard about it, went a little crazy, and forbade me from ever seeing him again.”

  Holly fluttered her wings a tiny bit, in what I think was a griffin form of laughter. “I think I understand. You were of questionable maturity to mate, he was your senior. You looked up to him as a new lance member to a Lance Captain.”

  “Um…sure, close enough. I told my parents to keep out of my business, I knew well enough what to do in my life. Anyway…my date took me out one evening and brought me back home a little high, a lot drunk, and at two in the morning. All three of those things were big no-nos in my family. And even worse, he decides to start making out with me…right as we’re parked in front of my parents’ house.”

  “Does ‘making out’ mean mating?”

  “I guess it would be like the aerial dance your people do, right before the actual event.” I felt my cheeks redden, though I couldn’t figure out why. Holly wasn’t judging me, and from what I’d seen, the actual act of sex was a very similar ‘insert tab A into slot B’ for both of our species.

  “So what happened?”

  “My parents heard something, probably me moaning, and came outside to investigate. My father’s got this patrolman’s flashlight on him – that’s a light source that’s the size of one of your clubs. He threatened to talon-pop my date if I didn’t get out of the car just then. After that, my dad made it very clear that he still had a hunting rifle in the garage which he’d clean and oil if my date ever gave him a reason.

  “And…he didn’t. I know that he’d have jumped at the chance to see me again – college guys all seem to have a thing for high school girls – but even I had figured out that this was trouble. He wanted to go all the way…I mean, to go ahead and mate with me. Come to think of it, I’d have put up a lot less resistance at that point than any of the females on this beach. And that could have been a disaster.”

  “He could have left you with a chick on the way, you mean.”

  “Yup. Chick on the way, bun in the oven, preggers, however you want to say it.”

  Holly absently raked the sand with one of her forepaws. “Is unapproved egg laying a source of shame in your world?”

  “Let’s just say that it makes life difficult.” And right then the urge to yawn came over me. I stretched my arms, trying to ward it off, but it came out all the same. “Sorry about that. It’s been a long day, as you know.”

  “Indeed it has. The Rites have concluded, and you have your magic brushes to study, do you not?” I nodded, and Holly placed her paw on my shoulder. “Then I shall bid you a fair return to your world, and let my father know to pick you up on the morning after next.”

  I fumbled for the silver medallion that Galen had enchanted for me. “Cross your talons for luck. I should have what I need for us to deal with Thundercrack and the Valkir Pride by then.”

  With that, I grasped the medallion between my forefingers. Holly and the rest of the griffins winked out in a familiar blaze of white.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  With a shove, the softpack envelope stuffed to bursting with my remaining buccal brush tests finally went down the overnight mail chute. It would cost a bit more than my lunch money to get all this testing done, but it would still prove valuable – especially if the video evidence had been compromised in any way. But that little knot in my stomach dissolved away as I got back to my office. A little storage drive labeled MUSEUM FOOTAGE – DELIVER TO DAYNA CHRISSIE, O.M.E. lay on my desk.

  I pocketed the drive and took a seat behind the ever-mounting piles of paper, feeling more than a little like a soldier sitting in a well-sandbagged foxhole. With a sigh, I started on the pile nearest my right hand, the one I’d labeled with a yellow stickie note as ‘Urgent!’. The minute hand began its second crawl around the dial as I finally got to the bottom of the pile.

  “May the Lord have mercy,” came a familiar drawl. “Is that an eight-by-eleven inch open patch of desk I see there?”

  I looked up to see Shelly Richardson leaning against my doorframe. She held a manila envelope thick with yet more paperwork in the crook of one elbow. Shelly was a transplanted Texan with a similarly Lone Star sized heart she tended to wear on her sleeve. But her sturdy frame looked fragile, and her eyes didn’t sparkle the way they normally did behind her glasses.

  “You might want to take a picture of it before it’s gone,” I joked. But before I could say anything else, my friend looked over her shoulder to check the hallway, then closed the office door behind her.

  “Dayna,” she said, as she slipped into the visitor’s chair I’d placed conveniently close to the cookie jar, “It looks like I need to give you the heads-up. Especially if someone ‘round here starts asking questions.”

  My heart sank a bit at that. It felt like I’d only wrangled my field privileges back yesterday, and things just kept getting worse. Between Esteban, Ollivar, the museum heist they’d saddled me with, not to mention the problems in Andeluvia…

  “Let me guess. I’m in trouble with the department. Again.”

  “Well…not yet. But I am troubled, if y’all get my meaning.”

  “Sort of. Well, no. Maybe you just need to level with – I mean, lay it out for me.”

  “The OME department auditors are going through everyone’s records, and yours…well, they’re gettin’ more than a fair share of attention.” She pulled the folder from under her arm, opened it, and began spreading out the contents. “They’ve already cited the fact that you were unable to I.D. our ‘Connor McCloud’ character, even after a repeated physical examination. Then there was the deal where you got put on probation by our very own Deputy Chief Robert McClatchy.”

  “And he’s planning to toss his hat into the ring to become Chief of Police. Something tells me that this audit’s timing is more than just luck.”

  “Bob ain’t no plum pudding, bless his little heart. He’s still fuming over how that probation hearing of yours turned out.” Shelly flicked through her papers, finding the ones she wanted as she added, “Now here’s the newest wrinkle. The lab folks sent me two reports to discuss with you. The first lists the substances found on a pair of ventilation duct filters. There’s nothing material or microbial out of the ordinary, so whatever you were looking for, it didn’t show up. But…it’s the second report that’s got their undies in a twist.”

  I did my best not to grimace. I knew it had to do with the samples I’d taken off the griffin feather that Lieutenant Ollivar had handed me.

  “They’re asking if we can hire a more competent person to handle the samples,” Shelly said gr
imly. “I’ll speak up for you, you know that. But they’re more than halfway sure that you’re playin’ a prank.”

  “They’re complaining about contamination, aren’t they?”

  “Whole hog contamination, and from the city zoo, to boot. Some of the tests are showing genetic markers from big cats. Others indicate that you sent ‘em a swab from the local aviary. And on top of that…people are talking about your request to reduce your hours. They may pull your field privileges back, give you more menial work, like crime scene cleanup.”

  I leaned forward and massaged my temples with a groan. I simply didn’t need this right now. Not when my only other option rested on the outcome of a mysterious crystal theft, the shaky whims of the Andeluvian nobility, and the even shakier sanity of a griffin High Elder.

  “Dayna…” Shelly whispered. “There’s…more.”

  I looked up.

  Confusion and worry creased Shelly’s face. Her fingers trembled as she closed the folder and then knotted them together in her lap. The circles under her eyes were dark enough to be mistaken for pools of fresh tar.

  “More?” I came around the desk in a flash and knelt in front of her chair. I grabbed my friend’s hands in mine. My words tumbled out as I felt their cold clamminess. “Shelly, are you all right? When did you last have something to eat?”

  “I haven’t had any appetite for the last week. Supper just hasn’t tasted any good since…I mean, I’ve been drinking my water. Keepin’ it down, for the most part. I know I’ve been out sick a lot. That’s not good.” She tried out a wan smile. “Took some caffeine pills to come in today. I’m no java junkie like you, I can’t down a whole pot of the stuff.”

  I felt her cold fingers continue to quiver. “How many pills did you take?”

  “I dunno. Seven, eight since I got up, maybe.”