Of Gryphons and Other Monsters (Taryn's Journey Book 1)

by Shannon McGee

  Michael glowered at me. “Is that what you think?”

  I rubbed my face. It was so late. “I don’t want to fight, Michael. I don’t. I am exhausted, and my head hurts.”

  His tone softened. “What is it? Tiredness? Or—” He sniffed. I peeked through my fingers. He was making a face. “Drunkenness?”

  I pressed fingers to my eyelids once more. “It was me, Nai, and … some other people. We went to have a fire in the woods and drink a little. I’d never done it before. I thought it would be fun. Then some of the others went off into the woods because they had heard there was a field of bluebells still in bloom. They found a gryphon kill. They think.” Michael was silent, and I removed my fingers to look at him. He was rigid, and his eyes were wide. “Michael?”

  “Were you one of the people who saw it?” He took me by the shoulders to peer closely at me.

  Touched at what had to be concern, I squeezed his right arm with both hands. “No, Michael. I stayed back at the fire. I kind of embarrassed myself, and I didn’t want to go along.”

  “You’ll want to wake Father and tell him when you get inside,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No. Aella was there.” Not waiting for him to voice his displeasure, I rushed to continue. “She’s going to tell her mother. She’s going to try and keep our names out of it so we don’t get into trouble for being out in the woods at night.”

  “That’s good. That was good of her. Gods. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you tonight Taryn.” Suddenly he seemed distracted; he wasn’t looking at me as he spoke, but out the window.

  “She’s a good person,” I told him earnestly. There was something strange about his tone, but I was pleased that at least he hadn’t gotten upset at Aella’s presence. “Actually, when we heard Claire scream, she jumped up and grabbed her axe—she was so fierce! You’d have … Michael?”

  Michael had wandered away from me, seemingly heading out of the barn. He stopped at his name, and turned back to me. There was something about his eyes. They looked so dark in this light, almost as though they had gone completely black. His hand gripped the barn door as though it kept him upright.

  “It’s late. I was only out here because I had a strange feeling, and when I went to check on you, you were gone. Since you’re fine, I’m going back to bed.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m sorry I worried you. Honestly. Next time, when all these messes have been cleaned up, you can come with us. What do you think?”

  He cleared his throat. “Sure. That’d be fine.”

  When he left, he shut the door behind him. The barn felt creepy in the dark, with the glittering eyes of those sheep who were awake. I was sorry that Michael had woken and worried about me. That had never been my intention, and now he knew I went off to have fun without him. Guilt needled me especially when I thought about how we had gone to a place he had found. My head cocked to the side. Had that played into his fear? Clearly Michael had been to the bluebell field on his own, at least once. If he had gone there recently he might have stumbled right upon the gryphon.

  I hurried to finish putting Hale away. I wanted to ask if he had seen anything suspicious there, the last time he had gone. By the time I crept inside, Michael was already back in his room, presumably asleep. I’d talk to him about it more in the morning.

  I lay in my own bed, feeling strange, like I was floating above my own body. Adrenaline had burned out what little alcohol I’d had in my system. The gryphon, Aella, Michael— it was all a lot to process.

  I liked Aella. That much was clear to me now. I liked when she looked at me, and I liked when she said my name. She seemed to like me too, at least a little. She made excuses to touch me. That was what people did when they liked someone, right?

  Perhaps I could have found out more tonight, if the gryphon kills hadn’t been stumbled upon. It was a good find though, and I couldn’t be too upset by it. Now that we knew where it was lairing it could be stalked and killed.

  With the gryphon gone, Aella and the rest of the mercenaries would leave. My breath hitched. That was what I wanted, wasn’t it? She was nice—wonderful really—but nothing could come of any of the feelings I was having. A relationship with a mercenary couldn’t last, and it wouldn’t bring a new generation to the farm. Wouldn’t it be better for her to be gone?

  I took a deep breath, steadying myself. At least no one had been hurt tonight. Michael had not even had a chance to go searching for me, so he had stayed out of harm’s way. He blew so hot and cold these days. Something was going on with him. I just didn’t know what. Did it have to do with Beth? Wouldn’t he have told me, if it did? I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, but sleep didn’t come for quite some time.

  The next morning, I woke to the sound of sizzling bacon, and wood tapping on metal. Mother was cooking in the kitchen. I yawned hugely, and stretched. Since I hadn’t gotten drunk as planned there was no reason not to go about my day as normal. I was a little saddened by that, but it would be nice to do normal things after last night’s excitement. I’d walk Mother to town, catch up on how the night had wound down with Nai. If Aella was still bound to the town, I could ask her what her mother had said about our little escapade.

  “Taryn?” Mother called. “Are you up?”

  “I’m up!” I sang back, agreeably. I felt good. Refreshed. Perhaps Michael and I should have been spending more time with the other youths from town. Breaking the monotony of my routine made me feel lighter than I had in a while. I hopped out of bed, twirling my way to the wash basin. Hurrying through my dressing, I practically skipped my way to the breakfast table.

  Mother raised her eyebrows at me. “You seem to be in a good mood,” she said, smiling wryly. “Any plans for the day?”

  “Nothing special.” I kissed her on the cheek as I reached around her to snag a few slices of bacon that had already cooked. “Walk you in. See Nai. Watch sheep.”

  “Well, I love the attitude. Leave a few slices for your brother though!” She tapped my hand lightly with the wooden spatula.

  I grinned, licking the bacon grease off my fingers as I danced backward. “I can’t believe he isn’t up yet.”

  “Well, I don’t think he slept well last night. I woke towards midnight and I thought I heard him moving around in his room.”

  I made a noncommittal noise, taking my mug out of the cupboard. The kettle sat on its metal stand near the fire, and I grabbed it, pouring the still hot water over some lemongrass tea. The steam rushed to meet my nose, invigorating and clean.

  “Could you go and see if you can’t wake him? I’ll serve up in here.” I took a tentative sip of my tea and blanched. Too hot still. When I didn’t reply, Mother turned to face me, the spatula bouncing anxiously between her fingers. “You two aren’t fighting again, are you?”

  “No,” I hurried to reassure her. “I’ll do it.”

  She smiled and cupped my cheek, affectionately her eyes crescents. “Thank you, dear.”

  Michael didn’t answer when I knocked. He also didn’t answer when I said his name. I pushed the door open, getting resistance as the wood hit a pile of clothes. I rolled my eyes. Gross. The whole floor was covered in clothes and different bric-a-brac. How had he managed to have any dirty clothes? Mother had been taking a load in every day this week.

  “Michael, brother dear, Mother made breakfast. Past time to be up,” I sang in a wheedling tone. My eyes wandered to the bed. It was empty. I blinked. “Huh.”

  Shutting the door, I padded back to the kitchen. Mother was putting the last plate on the table. The smell of the crispy bacon and fried eggs was enough to make my mouth water. When she saw I was by myself, Mother laughed. “Is he being stubborn?”

  “He’s not there. Maybe he’s in the barn?”

  Her lips pulled down at the corners, and she looked perplexed. “I went out there before I called for you to check if your father had time to eat before the hunt. Well. Perhaps I didn’t see him.”

  “He’ll come in
when Father says goodbye.” I shrugged, slinging myself into my chair. It scraped roughly against the floor.

  “Easy.” Mother chuckled. “The food isn’t going anywhere.”

  I was a few bites in when the door open behind me, and I turned in my seat. Father was grabbing his wide-brimmed hat off the hook by the door. He donned it, covering his fair hair. “Wynn, I know I said I wasn’t going to, but could you— ah, thanks.” He accepted the satchel she held out. She had bundled away a hearty cold breakfast for him to eat on the road.

  She kissed him lightly. “We can’t have you fainting in your saddle because you didn’t eat.”

  He smiled sheepishly at her. “Thanks, Wynny. Taryn?”

  I sat a little straighter, “Yes, Father?”

  “You feeling better?”

  I stared at him, confused. Realization dawned on me as he stared back. I’d said I was feeling ill before going to bed. “Yeah. Yes. Much better. Thanks.” My words fell over each other as I rushed to get them out.

  “Good,” he drawled. “Have either of you seen my son? He was practicing with my crossbow yesterday, and I’ll be needing it.”

  Mother and I looked at each other, stumped. “He wasn’t in the barn with you?” she asked.

  Father shook his head. “No. I haven’t seen him since last night. I think we missed each other when he grabbed his pony. Never mind, I’ll get him.” He moved towards the bedrooms.

  “He’s not there,” I said before he could leave the room. “I was just in his room.”

  “That’s strange,” Mother murmured, alarm stirring in her voice. “You said Cherub wasn’t in the barn?”

  “Well, no. I thought he moved her to the front so he could eat and leave.” Father strolled to the front door. He yanked it open, going so far as to step outside when he didn’t see a pony.

  I stood to follow him, but he was coming back inside when I got out from around the table. “No Cherub?” I asked.

  Father shook his head. “No.”

  “The sheep were still in the barn?” Mother asked as Father stalked down the hall.

  “Michael?” Father banged on Michael’s door, and then opened it. I waited for him, back by the entrance to the kitchen. “He’s not there,” he said. He looked put out. “Where is that boy? He knows he needs to take the sheep to the field, and I need my good crossbow.”

  I was starting to get an awful twisty feeling, deep in my gut. The cheery mood I’d started the day with was curdling there. Michael had said he’d had a strange feeling when I was out by the bluebells the night before. Surely if anything had happened to him I would have sensed it. Right?

  “I’ll check around the yard.” I strode to the door, shoving my feet into my boots. I was swinging on my cloak when Father stopped me.

  “I’ll look,” he said. “You help your mother clean in here. It could be Glenn needed something, and he saw Michael as he was pulling Cherub out. I’ll ride over and see.”

  He was gone before I could protest. I shifted from foot to foot, and Mother smiled wanly at me. “No use fretting about it. He was here last night. It’s probably as your father said. Finish your breakfast, and then we’ll clean up.”

  Breakfast had been finished, the dishes and kitchen had been cleaned and tidied, and Mother was beginning to anxiously embroider the skirt she had been knitting, and Father still had not returned. Neither of us had wanted to leave for town before he got back.

  I excused myself to check outside. There wasn’t anywhere for him to hide close to the house— besides the vegetable garden, but he wasn’t there. I walked the perimeter just inside the woods, calling his name. It seemed unlikely that Michael would take Cherub into the woods, but him disappearing wasn’t something I would have expected either.

  Had Cherub been in the barn last night? I wondered suddenly. Yes. I was pretty sure. I gnawed my lower lip. However, I hadn’t seen Michael make it to the house. Had he run away? What if whoever had hurt Beth had—what? Knocked him over the head and taken Cherub from the barn? I swallowed hard and redoubled my efforts.

  My voice rang through the quiet morning with no response. There was no sign of him. The dawn sun was weak, but it was enough to light a yard in front of me before the trees clustered too densely.

  Eventually I gave up and returned to the house. I felt jittery, and one of my knees bounced erratically as I sat on the couch. I wished I could have worked on my gryphon figure, but it was a surprise for Mother, and I didn’t want to leave her alone just to work on it. Her face was a shade too pale for me to believe she truly wasn’t worried. A quarter of a candle mark later, Father finally returned. I heard the hooves of his horse, and rushed to open the door.

  When he saw me, Father pulled up short. “Glenn hasn’t seen Michael, though the cursed fool is certain he heard gryphon cries early this morning. I went a little ways in the opposite direction, in case he took a spill on a morning ride. I’ll wait for the hunting party to get here. Willy will know if he has been to town.”

  “I’m sure that’s it.” Mother didn’t look up from her sewing, her eyes were focused on the patterns she was picking out with her needle. Little snowdrop flowers, it looked like.

  “I’ll be back. I’ll need to find the spare crossbow for now.” He backed back out the door.

  I tugged at a braid. Perhaps that was it. Michael could have decided to talk to Nai about our adventure last night. Perhaps he had been more upset by our close call than I had thought. But why? None of us had been hurt, and we had learned where the gryphon was nesting. Why would he be upset about that?

  Not long after Father had gone to the barn, a knock sounded on the door, and I hurried to answer it. Mother didn’t rise from the couch; she continued to work at her embroidery. I peeked through the eyehole before unbolting the locks and throwing open the door. Mercenary Captain and daughter stood, their arms behind their backs, looking serious and foreboding in a way I had long stopped viewing them.

  “Captain Aedith, Aella—have you seen my brother?” I asked before they could get out as much as a greeting. “None of us have seen him since last night. It’s not like him to disappear. We’re becoming a little worried.” I knew it was my nerves that made me talkative. Mother’s needle paused, but she didn’t look up.

  “May we come in?” Aedith wasn’t exactly meeting my eyes. It was as though she was speaking to my forehead. I realized the hunting party was not on the road behind them.

  Feeling confused and a little hurt, I stepped aside to let them pass. “I’ll put the kettle back on.”

  “That won’t be necessary. It would be best if your father were here, if you could find him.”

  Mother still hadn’t spoken, but she had stopped rocking her chair. She was watching the mercenaries now, an odd light in her eyes.

  “He’s in the barn. I’ll be back shortly.” I looked to Aella, but she was inspecting her boots. I took off at a run.

  In the barn, Father was at his work bench, carefully oiling his spare crossbow. His face was drawn and he looked so old in the feeble rays of light streaming through the dusty windows that my heart ached. He glanced up when he heard the door open, hope blooming and dying on his face in the work of a moment.

  “Father, Captain Aedith is here. She says it would be best if you joined us for whatever news she has.”

  When we returned, Aedith was leaning against the door frame that led into the kitchen, her position deceptively casual. Aella stood next to her mother, her eyes trained on the floor. When the door to the kitchen shut behind us, Mother finally rose, moving to stand beside her husband.

  Aedith looked both of my parents squarely in the eye before speaking. Her low voice filled the hollow silence strangely, and I shivered. “Wynifred, Raynard, it is good to see you again. I’m sorry it must be under these circumstances. What I am here to say… I take no pleasure in it. You have all been welcoming, to me, and to my daughter.”

  My parents said nothing. My heart strained against my chest, and the breath caught
in my throat ached. Michael was hurt. Michael had been killed. Michael had been kidnapped or—

  “Michael is the one who attacked the girl Beth. I have evidence of that, as well as a witness—the victim herself. She woke, and our healer mended her jaw enough to speak. Breaking it and her fingers … I believe his motive was a distraction, meant to foist my mercenaries from your town. He didn’t count on us having a healer.”

  Mother let out a bark of something too rough to be considered a laugh. “And why would he do that?” Father pulled her close to him.

  “We believe he has been the one killing livestock.”

  An argument erupted. Mother’s sharp denials punctuated the back and forth between Father and Aedith. The actual details of what they argued over came to me through what felt like cotton covering my ears. My mind whirred, flitting from one thought to the next, connecting dots I should have seen. The proximity and time of the kills; the times in which Michael was alone. The flowers surrounding the gryphon kill; the flower gifted to Beth. Michael’s muddy boots when he hadn’t been outside yet. Michael’s deal with a strange man in a dark corner of the inn. Michael outside the inn, covered in Beth’s blood. Michael’s large leather-bound tome that he seemed keen to keep hidden from me. The loose floor board in his room where he used to let me hide my sweets but no longer let me near. How messy his room was when Mother had been to town to do the washing almost every day for the past few weeks. The loose floorboard. The dirty clothes. The loose floorboard. My thoughts caught. I backed away from the fight, slowly. No one glanced my way. When I reached the hallway, I ran, my feet slapping the floor, loud in my ears.

  Michael’s room was a mess. His bed was unmade and dirty clothes were in a mound at the center of the room. With how much cleaning Mother had been doing, how could his clothes have gone unwashed? With a foot I shifted the pile, revealing the dull wood of the floor. I knelt, and carefully began to push on the different pieces, listening intently.

  “What are you doing?” I jumped, but I didn’t turn to look at Aella. The last panel had squeaked.