by Ann Hunter
“Day is my domain, Glory. I live in the light. The creatures of the forest rule the night. There is only one I dare seek, and only by day. We are in danger here.” The gryphon put himself between Glory and the forest. He nodded toward the unicorn who nodded back and turned away. The gryphon pressed his beak against Glory’s ribs and nudged her back inside.
Glory resisted at first, still trying to see Colin, but she finally turned with a sigh.
***
Colin escaped Morgorth with Illyndiil unscathed. The dagger seemed to warm to him somehow. He swore he even heard her speak his name. She pulsed with life in his hands whenever he held her. Now he came across an expanse of field abutting a great, black keep. The coral ashlar glinted in the torchlight as though tiny diamonds had been embedded in each block. Waves beat nearby and the air was thick with the smell of sea water.
Colin’s eyes were fixed on the open gate when a blonde girl sprinted out. Colin’s heart leapt. Glory! He had found her at last. He hurried to the middle of the field. The light barely touched here, but he knew if he showed himself to her that all would be right in the world. He watched her bend over and catch her breath, and he waited for her to see him. When she straightened he stared at her with awe. She looked different somehow. More beautiful than he remembered her. She had grown and filled out. He was certain of it. She seemed taller. The land had improved upon her if such a thing were possible. He began to slip back his hood when a sudden shadow descended upon Glory. Colin crouched down low. Great wings such as he had never seen beat on the air. Colin held his breath as he beheld a mighty creature with the body of a lion and the head of a hawk. The firelight played on its copper hide. Colin swallowed. He feared for Glory. His hands shook. He reached for Illyndiil. The gryphon spoke to Glory in a language Colin did not recognize. Colin’s breath caught when Glory answered back in kind. When had she learned a tongue other than her own?
Colin’s hand tightened around Illyndiil when the gryphon moved his beak close to Glory. Colin watched Glory strain against him before being bullied back inside the keep. Colin cursed under his breath. The gryphon paused by the gate, ears perked. He looked around as though he had heard something. Colin’s mouth drew. His eyes narrowed. The gryphon’s tail twitched. His beak opened slightly and his tongue undulated. Colin saw a pulse in the gryphon’s throat as the creature smelled the air. Finally he lowered his head and strode inside the keep. Colin kept his eyes trained on the beast. “Do not worry, Glory,” he whispered, “I’ll save you.”
***
The air was getting warmer by the day. The sun shined down on the savage garden as Glory plucked a black rose and began pulling off the petals. Had her eyes played her the fool? A few days had passed since she had wandered into the field and glimpsed who she thought had been Colin. Where was her knight in shining armor? Glory threw the deflowered sepal on the ground listlessly. She was too sullen and lost in her thoughts to notice someone slip behind her. A hand went over her mouth, and an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a corner behind some bushes. Glory flailed wildly, trying to fight the abduction until a voice hushed her.
“Shh! Do you want us to get caught?” Colin’s voice whispered.
Glory turned. Her mouth tried to speak, but her brain sent no words.
“Well, do not look so delighted to see me.”
Glory threw her arms around his shoulders.
Colin lowered his head to kiss her, but was met with a slap in the face. “What took you so long?”
Colin rubbed his cheek. “When you did not come to the garden after Lucullia’s wedding, I went looking for you. I asked every one if they knew where you were, but not even your sisters would answer.”
“That is because they are all a bunch of yeasty, unchin-snouted snap dragons!”
“So I set out on my own. This is so far away. How ever did you end up here of all places?”
Glory blinked. “Didn’t you get my letter?”
“What letter?”
“Blast!” Glory imprecated.
Colin took her head in his hands. “Oh, but it does not matter anyway, does it? We are together now. We’ll find a way out of here, and then we are going to be so happy.”
Colin tried to draw her close for a kiss, but Glory turned her cheek. “Colin, there is something you should know.”
He freckled her face with slow, soft kisses. “I know I went to the ends of the earth for you. Isn’t that enough?”
“Colin, listen.”
“Come on, Glory, can you not give me a proper hello? It has been so long, and I am here to rescue you.”
Glory grabbed his wrists and sent his hands away from her. “Colin, please, listen to me!”
Colin stepped back with an exasperated expression. “What could you possibly have to say to me that I do not already know?”
“Glory!” came the gryphon’s voice.
Glory gasped.
Colin peered through the foliage to see the beast headed their way.
“That is the reason I am stuck here, Colin. Now, quickly, go!”
Colin stole a reluctant kiss from Glory. “I will return tonight.”
“Glory?” the gryphon called again.
Glory pushed Colin away. “Hurry, you fool.”
Colin leapt over a low wall and disappeared into another part of the garden. Glory took a deep breath and turned a corner. “I am here, Gryphon,” she answered calmly.
The gryphon crossed to her. “I heard you talking with someone. Who were you with, Glory?”
She did not look him in the eye. “No one.”
The gryphon circled her, his ceres flaring, filling with her scent. “Really? My sources tell me otherwise.”
“I was sitting behind that rose bush there, talking to myself. I have been lonely.”
The gryphon’s ears relaxed. “You could talk to me,” he suggested.
Glory parried, “Why would I want to do that? You never have anything nice to say... and you smell.”
The gryphon continued to circle her. His muscles rippled in the low afternoon sun. Glory thought his coat, filled with tones of gold and orange, might burst in to flame. He held his tail high, the small brown tuft at the end dancing about. His feathers, freshly preened, sat smoothly against each other, glowing in the light. He paused mid-stride, his ears perked. “I know not of what you speak. I say nice things every day.”
“Calling me ugly and stupid is not considered very nice, Gryphon.”
“Just because it is not something you want to hear, does not make it unkind.”
Glory folded her arms, unconvinced.
The gryphon put his foot down and gazed at her thoughtfully. “Why, ever since you stopped thinking that Bel worships you, you have become less ugly to me.”
“There you go again.”
The gryphon’s ears dropped. “What did I say?”
“You called me ugly, Gryphon.”
The gryphon’s beak gaped, his tongue rising and falling a little with each of his breaths. “Surely, I did not.”
“And now you are inferring that I am stupid. Your words do not exactly inspire any kind of affection, you know.”
The gryphon resumed circling her, burning a path into the ground. His head dropped; an eye remained trained on Glory. Glory watched him warily.
“Gcroí agus Inní 11,” he muttered under his breath. “I am sorry. Allow me to make it up to you.”
“How do you intend to do that?”
“You will join me for dinner.”
Glory grimaced. “I would prefer to dine alone.”
The gryphon’s feathers ruffled.
“After your little gifts these last several mornings, I am afraid seeing you while I eat would upset my appetite.”
The gryphon’s ears flattened, and he growled. His wings spread, casting an ominous shadow. He looked over his shoulder at Glory and leapt into the air wordlessly.
A large, long table was heavily laden with enough sumptuous food to feed the household. R
oast game, carefully decorated for presentation, with succulent root vegetables, exotic fruit, and vintage ale all graced the table on silver platters, glowing with temptation in candles’ light.
A servant seated Glory and presented her with endless choices. She chose her favorites of fruit, fine cheese, and fresh bread that was still warm from the hearth. For good measure, she drank in a goblet of mead. It was strong and tasted of fermented apples with a hint of ironberry. She let it linger on her palate before swallowing. The burn down the back of her throat was mild and warming. The cheese she sampled was sharp, with notes of hazlethorn—an almost nutty, buttery taste. Glory smiled. Food had not been this enjoyable for her in a very long time. Her shoulders relaxed, and she sank in her chair, resting her head against the high back.
“I am glad to see you finally eat something.”
Glory’s muscles tightened, and she sat up, carefully chewing her food before swallowing and washing it down with a sip of mead. She put the goblet down. “I asked to dine alone, Gryphon.”
“I know. I am sorry.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was lonely. I am sorry if I have been harsh with you. When I was very young, I learned the difficult lesson that one does not stay out after dark in this kingdom. I had escaped my nest. Xander found me outside of the keep, deeply wounded. He nursed me back to health. I prefer to be outside, but it is simply too dangerous at night. I did not think you would mind if I sat where you cannot see me.” His voice was coming from behind a pillar in the shadows.
Glory pushed her plate away. “I do mind. Having someone watch you eat is not pleasant.”
“I do not need to watch, Princess. I am content to share the room with you.”
Glory drank more of the mead and leaned back in the chair.
“Do you like it?” the gryphon asked. “It is called Woodmead. The Fox And Wolf Inn at Council’s Realm retains a special reserve for us.”
Glory did not answer. She picked at her food instead. The room grew very quiet. A Celtic harp began to play. Glory gave in to the melody, her body relaxing again. Maybe the gryphon had left her. She felt her appetite returning. After a few bites, she gave a nod to whoever was harping. “You play beautifully.”
“Thank you,” the gryphon replied.
Glory’s eyes widened. “You play?”
“Yes.”
Glory leaned against the table, resting her head in her hand. The song continued. The notes floated through the air like summer cotton. The ebb and flow was like the tide, washing its way through time and space. When it was over, Glory found herself smiling. “Well done, harper. Well done.”
“Would you hear another, Princess?”
Glory drank more mead. “Please.”
A melodic tune carried across the air. She recognized it. The gryphon lifted his voice in a haunting, lyrical, wordless harmony. Glory closed her eyes. She had heard it before so many times, that song of longing and disappointment. A tear slipped from one of her eyes and wound down her cheek. All of these nights, the gryphon had been singing for her. How could she not have realized it? He knew the song of her heart.
The music came to a halt, and the last chords carried through the hall.
“What is that song?” Glory felt compelled to know it by its name.
“It is nameless. It is a curse. It is merely what fills my heart. If I did not let it out, I fear I should die from the agony.”
“Tell me your name.”
There was a silence.
“Please, Gryphon,” Glory implored, “I wish to know the name of my harper this night.”
He strummed quietly and thoughtfully, as if trying to remember a long-forgotten song.
“Surely you must be called by something other than Gryphon,” Glory urged. “Shall I give you a name?”
“If you wish.”
“You are both harper and scholar. Is there a name in your language for a bard’s soul?”
The gryphon picked out a few shy, awkward notes on his harp.
Glory pushed back her chair. “Well, then, I suppose you shall remain Gryphon to me.”
She adjourned to her room and leaned against one of her bedposts. She could not bear the silence. She felt so tired. Gradually she became aware of music. Her heart raced, and she hurried to the window. She looked down. Colin was playing a pan pipe. Glory opened the window. “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous here after dark.”
Colin sighed. “You have been behaving oddly, Glory. First you are less than thrilled to see me, and my serenade does nothing to impress you. Where is your mind?”
Glory was silent.
Colin sighed. “Do you think you could come with me to the inn down the road?”
“It’s not that easy. I’ve tried leaving this place before, but I always wind up back here. I am sure it is a curse.”
Colin’s shoulders slumped, and he kicked the ground.
Glory grunted. “I will try again. Run along ahead of me.”
Glory glanced over her shoulder to ensure she was not being followed down the dirt road that led from Blackthorn. When she turned back around, the gryphon was suddenly standing before her. Glory jumped with a yelp.
“What are you doing, Glory?” the gryphon’s tail twitched.
“Leaving.” Glory pushed by him, continuing on. The gryphon strode beside her.
“Did I not warn you that going out after sundown was dangerous?”
Glory stuck her nose in the air defiantly.
“You are very—”
“Do not even say it, beast.”
The gryphon pinned his ears. “You are unwise to ignore my counsel.”
“What could possibly happen? It is not as though the unicorns are bloodthirsty.” Glory was not so sure. Sea serpents in the water, gryphons in the castle, strange women that glowed and floated around. “Are they?”
The gryphon stopped. “We are on the hunting grounds of the barghest chieftan, thanks to you.”
Glory rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as a…” Reflective, green eyes flashed between the trees ahead. They blinked, then started growing larger. In the moonlight, Glory could make out the grizzled form of a large creature prowling closer to them. The gryphon stepped beside Glory, the fur on his spine bristling.
“What is that?” Glory’s voice trembled.
“Barghest.”
More eyes blinked from between the trees and took form on top of long snouts. They drew closer. Glory’s breath caught as bear-like, hunchback wolf monsters bolted toward them.
The gryphon charged at them, commanding, “Run, Glory!”
For a moment, Glory was unable to pry her eyes away from the oncoming creature. Moonlight glinted from its hungry fangs. Glory’s breath caught in her throat again. Her feet beat the ground.
She pounded the earth as hard as she could. As she glanced over her shoulder, she saw two barghest leap upon the gryphon. They bayed and snarled wildly. Another galloped after Glory. She could barely muster a scream. She felt as though her heart would hammer its way out of her chest. She struggled for breath. Up ahead she saw a broken, dead silver-birch branch, hanging limply from its trunk. She raced toward it and grabbed it, whipping around to brandish it at the barghest. As she spun around, her skirts snagged upon bramble and brought her to her knees. She swung blindly. The barghest slowed and growled.
“Leave me alone!” Glory cried.
The barghest lunged at her. Glory held the branch before her with enough strength to bar the beast from her face. The barghest’s breath reeked worse than the gryphon’s. Saliva slung from its mouth. Glory gave a cry as its gruesome teeth gnashed at her. She tried to pull her knees close enough to launch a powerful kick to the beast’s gut. Her arms trembled with fatigue. Suddenly the barghest leapt off her.
Glory lay on the ground, shaking. A long howl echoed over the trees. She sat up to see the barghest glare at her, howl back, and then retreat to the pack.
Glory fell back against the cool earth in rel
ief. She dropped the branch and stared up at the full moon. A few scratches here and there stung her, but she was grateful to be alive. Carefully, she untangled her dress from the bramble and rose to dust herself off. She knew she should get moving again, lest the barghest return.
Faster than before, she took off through the woods. Beads of icy sweat formed at her temples, and the breath in her lungs stung. The sound of her skirts rustled like the rapid beat of owl wings. She picked them up with a small cry of frustration, freeing her feet to race faster. Slowly, her thoughts came back to her. The night became clearer, the trees blurred less. Suddenly, Glory gasped, “Gryphon.”
She grabbed the trunk of a tree to help stop herself. The forest swirled around. Glory hugged the gray trunk and gazed up at the moon. She caught her breath, taking in her surroundings. What was stopping her? This was her one true chance to escape the very bane of her existence. She already had a great head start. Glory squared her shoulders and continued on her way. She was free, at last! A pang in her chest stopped her in her tracks. “He could be hurt.”
Glory’s hand went to her heart. She swallowed. She touched her forehead to make sure the sweat on her brow was not some fever that had driven her mad. She checked her scratches and saw no swelling or infection from rabid barghest. Why did she suddenly care about the gryphon? She loathed him… didn’t she?
“He saved my life.”
Glory looked over her shoulder. Her throat tightened.
Before it could even register, she dashed back the way she had come. No worldly obstacle could seem to impede her. When she finally reached the clearing where she had last seen the gryphon, three barghest were making their last stand against him. Glory’s eyes flashed as the gryphon fell to the ground with a groan. Glory picked up a stone and hurled it as hard as she could at the barghest.
“Leave him alone!”
Without thought to herself, she picked up another rock and flung it hard, nailing one of the barghest square in the shoulder. It cried out and the other turned. Glory clocked him between the eyes with a sharp-edged stone. The barghest dropped to the ground, and the one with a wounded shoulder took off into the woods. Before the last one, who was intently guarding the gryphon’s weakened body, could realize what was happening, Glory lifted the largest stone she could find and dropped it on its neck.