Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Powering up, he surged again, blasting his way past her defenses.

  She grabbed her head. “Stop it, Quinn. I’m not here to hurt you.”

  He was relentless, reaching deeper, banging into the other voices booming in her mind, probably the gryphons’. She started screaming in her head.

  At that moment a massive golden-headed gryphon barreled down at him from the sky.

  Quinn twisted around and threw his hands up, forcing a kinetic blast at the gryphon.

  The beast stuttered in flight as if buffeted by the wind, then rolled away and kept coming. Quinn watched in shock as the gryphon landed in a skid, jaws open, roaring.

  Using his kinetics had weakened Quinn’s hold on Kizira.

  The gryphon’s forward momentum threw the beast at Quinn, who couldn’t release Kizira in order to use his mind lock on the gryphon.

  She vanished and reappeared in front of Quinn as a massive claw swiped at him.

  It ripped her middle open.

  Quinn released her mind, shouting as he dove into the gryphon’s mind, then funneled his kinetics inside to explode the beast’s head.

  The headless beast flopped backward, its wings quivering.

  A whimpering sounded wrenched Quinn’s eyes to Kizira. “No, no!” He dropped and lifted her into his arms. The claw had gouged a wide canal from beneath her breasts to above her hips. He begged, “Heal yourself, Kizira.”

  Blood ran from her lips. “I . . . can’t. Flaevynn took that . . . away right before she sent me here. I need . . . to tell you . . .”

  Quinn cried, tears streaming down his face. “Please don’t die.” He’d never said the words that fisted his heart, but they poured out now with panic that he was losing her. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Quinn. I tried . . . for peace.”

  He bawled, pleading with every god in the universe to save her.

  She moved her hand to his wrist. “The bracelet I made of your hair . . . don’t lose it.”

  “I want you, not a bloody bracelet. I’m so sorry. I should have believed . . .”

  “Quinn, please listen.” She jerked and coughed.

  “Anything, my love.” He covered the gaping hole, trying to hold on to her life force.

  When her lips moved again, he leaned his ear to her face. “Don’t let . . . the Medb get her.”

  “What do you mean?” Evalle?

  Her eyes started to roll back.

  He clutched her to his chest, pleading, “Please don’t leave me.”

  She clenched with pain and said, “Promise me . . .”

  “Anything.” He brushed his lips over hers, savoring the feel.

  “Find Phoedra. Keep her safe.”

  “Who’s Phoedra?”

  “Our daughter.” She gasped and the light went out of her.

  Quinn’s howl of pain shook the trees and ground.

  FORTY-FIVE

  Still tucked into a falling ball, Evalle hit trees. Limbs snapped. Sharp edges stabbed and scraped her body. She bounced down a hillside, finally landing at the bottom, where she sprawled her wings open.

  Every bone felt broken or cracked.

  Vertigo still swamped her. Bile raced up her throat. This had to be the infection.

  Trey had intentionally infected her.

  Didn’t Tzader understand her message? Evalle had really thought that between Tzader and Quinn, they’d realize all they had to do was have Quinn take control of Kizira’s mind.

  Pain throbbed, cutting off everything but her desire to stop the hurt. She reached inside herself and drew upon her beast. Healing energy flooded through her. Bones shifted, mending. Nerves around raw places and deep wounds stopped screaming. Her vision cleared.

  She sucked in one deep breath after another, feeling amazingly better in just seconds.

  With no infection.

  With a grunt, she folded her wings and rolled over, pushing to rise on her hind legs. Stretching, she tested her wings. Wow, that was fast.

  But where was the buzz of energy? That connection to Kizira? Evalle called to her. Kizira? Are you okay?

  No answer.

  She didn’t want to risk calling any other gryphon in case they’d been infected. Trey was so powerful that he could push into any mind receptive to telepathy.

  Evalle stopped, hit by a bad feeling. What if something had happened to Kizira? She didn’t want to consider that, but if Kizira wasn’t answering, she was no longer in control of the gryphons.

  Leading the group would fall to the next most powerful gryphon.

  Boomer had died twice, the second time only moments ago when Kizira had called out that he was down and being attacked.

  A niggle of suspicion climbed Evalle’s neck. Would Boomer intentionally go through his third death to reach his highest level of power?

  Of course he would.

  Where was he?

  With a push, Evalle took to the air, flying high enough that she couldn’t be attacked from the ground. Below her, a string of Gryphons spaced out like quarter marks on a clock were burning the outer circle as instructed. There had to be five thousand Beladors defending the island, but with the other nine gryphons backed up by two thousand warlocks and witches, the Medb would gain the upper hand.

  Flying faster, Evalle searched closer to the castle.

  She found the gryphon she searched for. Hard to miss Boomer’s size. He fought off Beladors attacking him, but he was staggering. She watched as he fell.

  While facing an enemy that would certainly kill at least one warrior, Beladors wouldn’t link and risk ending all lives bound together by that link. Even if Boomer was infected, he should be able to fight off that small group . . .

  Unless he was trying to die a third time on purpose. But Kizira wouldn’t allow that if he was still under her control.

  He knew the Medb goal was to bring Flaevynn to the river. With Boomer no longer under anyone’s control, he’d go for that river himself.

  That’s why he was willing to use up his third death and revival.

  Everything was falling apart.

  Kizira had sworn she’d compel Tristan to find a place to hide Petrina and stay there with his sister until Evalle called to him. She hoped he hadn’t figured out that he was no longer under Kizira’s orders and tried to leave on his own.

  Banking hard to her right, Evalle headed for the castle. Had Lanna and Conlan made it there?

  Two golden-headed gryphons landed in the open field in front of the castle, looking like strange airplanes touching down in an area as large as Hartsfield-Jackson airport back in Atlanta.

  An army of Beladors surged to block them from getting near the castle.

  Evalle swooped low, heading for the castle doors that were behind that line of warriors but barred by fifty more Beladors.

  Tzader stood at the front.

  She hated to do this, but she raised her front paws and sent a series of short kinetic blasts, swatting warriors aside like bowling pins. Even Tzader. They might be banged up and knocked out for a bit due to getting hit with kinetics like they’d never felt before, but none would die.

  Tzader, however, would never forgive her for taking him out when he was standing between the enemy and Brina. She would lose a friend, but she’d save the Beladors.

  Pulling up at the last minute, Evalle’s momentum sent her plowing into the tall wooden doors that burst into the castle. Black iron hinges ripped from the walls. Chunks of wood flew like shrapnel.

  The pressure of her explosive entrance and flying debris knocked out the guards inside the massive three-story hall.

  From the top of the stairs, Brina raced down, a sword sizzling with power in hand.

  Evalle called to her. Go back! Hide!

  At the bottom landing, Brina paused. Evalle?

  Yes. Get out of here.

  Taking a look around at bodies sprawled everywhere, Brina looked up in shock. Is that aqua thing you?

  Yes. I’m a gryphon. Where’s Macha?

  She’s using
all her power to hold a ward against . . . you and the others.

  How had Evalle gotten past? What kind of ward? Nothing even slowed me down.

  We heard you were immortal. But you aren’t. That’s why you didn’t die crossing the threshold.

  The stupid beast championship rumors.

  Why, Evalle? Brina asked in a heartbroken voice. These are your people.

  I didn’t kill them. They’re just knocked out. Evalle didn’t have time to explain further. Boomer would be coming, and she had only one hope of stopping him. First she had to force Brina to help her. Evalle said, I’m not here to kill you, Brina, but to protect you. I need your help. I’ve trusted you, now you trust me. A gryphon is coming that no warrior in human form can stop.

  Brina hesitated only a minute, then she raised her sword, every bit the Belador warrior queen. What do you need?

  You have to kill me.

  Are you crazy?

  I don’t have time to explain. Just do it and trust me.

  I can’t!

  You must. We have no time! Do it. Trust me.

  Tears streaming, Brina gripped the sword and drove it into Evalle’s chest.

  Evalle gritted her teeth against the pain and leaned down as Brina drove the sword into her heart once, twice, three times. Okay, enough. That should do it. Evalle folded a wing so that she’d keel over to the side and not crush Brina.

  Brina stumbled back, a tear streaming down her cheek, and stared at the blood-drenched sword she held. “Evalle?”

  Evalle hissed at the pain, breathing hard. She had to ease Brina’s horror. I’ll live. Give me a minute. The world receded as Evalle’s life bled out until her thoughts shrank into a black void with only a pinpoint of light pulsing.

  What if she didn’t regenerate?

  Then the light brightened, and with it came the incredible pain of regenerating. In her mind, Evalle cried out, but in the TÅμr Medb battles she’d heard the other gryphons’ high-pitched wailing, so she knew she was making an ungodly sound about now.

  Bolts of energy streaked through her chest, shocking her heart back to pumping and healing the damaged tissue.

  Rolling to her side once more, she leveraged herself up and shook her head, drunk from healing again in so short a time.

  An earth-shaking roar approached from a distance.

  Boomer.

  Evalle called upon her beast powers to flood her body, and the explosion of energy lifted her off the ground. She settled on her hindquarters. If she felt this good after a second death, what would Boomer be experiencing after three?

  Brina stood shell-shocked as Evalle rose to her full height.

  Conlan’s voice entered Evalle’s mind. We’re inside and Lanna has us cloaked, or Brina will probably kill me.

  Evalle took a look over her shoulder to check on Boomer, who was not in view yet, then turned back to Brina. Evalle had to give her yet another shock. Lanna and Conlan are inside the castle, too.

  When Brina raised her sword out of instinct, Evalle quickly added, Conlan is not the traitor. Tzader will tell you this when he talks to you, so don’t hurt Conlan. He’s with Lanna. Tell them to show themselves, then please get out of here so I can fight without worrying about you. That incoming gryphon is heading for the immortality river beneath the castle.

  Brina lifted her voice. “Conlan O’Meary, show yourself.”

  A Belador could not refuse that order. Lanna and Conlan came into view, with Conlan standing in front of Lanna, shielding her.

  Conlan said to Brina, “Give me a sword, tell the others not to kill me, and I’ll join the battle!”

  With one look at Evalle then back at Conlan, Brina nodded, and a Belador sword appeared in front of Conlan.

  Evalle told Conlan and Brina, Move these knocked-out warriors out of here or they might burn to death with two gryphons battling.

  Brina and Conlan used their kinetics, stacking the ten warriors and moving them up the stairs, where Horace Keefer came hurrying down with a sword in hand.

  Evalle lost all patience and yelled telepathically, Get everyone out of here now! Conlan, you go out and protect the warriors I had to knock out. Do not engage any gryphon. Brina, will you please do something with Lanna and Horace?

  Conlan grabbed the sword and dashed out the door.

  Brina shot her a glare, but the Belador warrior queen understood that staying would jeopardize Evalle’s chance to survive, as well as her own. And Brina was the sole living Treoir descendant. She had to remain alive to protect the Belador power base.

  The sound of flapping wings approached as Brina herded Horace and Lanna out of the room.

  Evalle stepped around to face Boomer.

  He slid into the room, his green eyes as bright as two electric balls. His jaws opened and he spewed a torrent of fire at Evalle, who blocked with a kinetic blast that sent flames licking the walls. She pushed forward on her hind legs, forcing the surge of fire back at Boomer, who realized he’d torch himself if he didn’t close his mouth.

  When his jaws snapped shut, Evalle dropped her protective shield and lunged at Boomer.

  Her jaws opened wide to clamp his throat.

  He swung a paw at her before she reached him, sinking his claws into her throat.

  They went down in a snarling twist of gouging beaks, wings beating and claws ripping open bloody gashes.

  FORTY-SIX

  Lanna would not leave Evalle. She turned to go back and help.

  Someone grabbed her shirt, yanking back. “No, you don’t.”

  She twisted to face Brina. “You do not understand.”

  For a pretty woman, Brina could make a fierce face. “You’re not understandin’. Much as I’m wantin’ to fight beside Evalle, we all have duties. Mine is to protect the Belador power. Yours is to do as I say, and Horace’s is to protect our backs.”

  Digging in her heels when Brina started pulling on her again, Lanna said, “Boomer is more powerful than Evalle. He will kill her.”

  “Take it from me. She’ll come back.”

  “No. Only three times.”

  Brina paused from dragging Lanna. “Three times? Explain yourself.”

  Since Lanna had not been compelled, she spilled everything about the gryphons.

  Brina whispered, “That’s why they’re not really immortal?”

  “Yes.” Lanna nodded, in a hurry to get Brina to understand. “Boomer has died twice. He gets stronger each time.”

  “Evalle said he was tryin’ to reach our river of immortality.”

  Lanna felt the blood leave her face. “That means he has died three times. Evalle cannot stop him.”

  “She just died a second time. I killed her.”

  Yanking away, Lanna shouted, “You killed her. Do you not know what she has gone through for her Beladors?”

  Brina scowled at her. “Do not push me right now. Evalle wanted me to do it so she would be stronger.”

  Horace had been watching their backs with his sword raised, though Lanna thought the old man would fall over in a strong breeze. He swung around, ordering, “Get moving if you don’t want Evalle’s effort to be wasted.”

  Outnumbered, Lanna continued toward a room that reminded her of an old-fashioned solar, with unusual plants in handcrafted pots and unique furniture carved of strange wood and covered in plush cushions.

  A solar except that the room was entirely stone with no windows. A safe room.

  Lanna plopped down on a sofa, squeezing the cushion on each side of her legs as stress relief until she heard Brina making strangling noises. Jerking her head up, Lanna saw the old guy standing behind Brina, tossing sparkling dust on Brina.

  Rotten lime smell stung Lanna’s nose.

  Noirre majik. She knew it.

  Thin green and purple threads began to wind around Brina. She struggled and tried to shout, but the threads wrapped her mouth. Why did she not call guards telepathically?

  Lanna leaped up.

  He paused in chanting and said, “You knew a
troll killed my wife and child while I fought with the Beladors. Macha knew, too. But she wouldn’t bring them back. Now she’ll know what it is to lose what she can’t replace.”

  Lanna raced over and threw all her weight at Horace.

  He shoved up a hand.

  A pair of double X scars marked his forearm.

  The traitor.

  Lanna hit an invisible wall. Kinetics. A force tossed her against Brina. Dust hit Lanna in the face. Threads started wrapping her up against Brina’s body. Lanna fought against the binding, reaching a hand until she found Brina’s and gripped it.

  She told Brina, “Stay calm. I will teleport.”

  Brina whispered, “No. I will . . . hologram.”

  Whatever Brina meant was not working.

  Lanna’s air squeezed from her chest. They would both die. She held her breath, hoping she didn’t send them into a wall.

  Could she even do this with Horace placing a Noirre spell on them? She closed her eyes, whispered a few words and teleported.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Fangs chewed on her shoulder. Evalle slashed her claws at Boomer, who showed no sign of weakening.

  Unlike her.

  But she couldn’t split her focus from fighting Boomer to call on her beast form to heal her wounds, or he’d have the opening he needed to rip her head off.

  Drawing her energy into her wings, she flapped, lifting them off the floor with Boomer clutched to her chest and ripping chunks out of her shoulder.

  She flew toward a wall, slamming his head. His gold head bounced and shoved his jaws deeper into her shoulder.

  She winced.

  Wings still flapping, she swung around and flew at another wall, ramming his head again. Stone broke and chunks fell to the floor. Her shoulder was taking just as much of a beating.

  Then his jaws released her shoulder and his head wobbled.

  This was her only chance to get him in a vulnerable position. Get him outside where she could fly to Beladors who would finish him off.

  She flapped around, wobbling as she lost energy.

  Her wings couldn’t hold both of them any longer.

  They hit the castle floor with a loud bang, but at least Boomer was beneath her.