by K J Taylor
Heath blanched. ‘You want me to get on your back?’
Echo shoved him again.
Heath felt light-headed. A griffin was trying to make him ride it. Which was impossible, but it was happening anyway, and he was pretty sure this wasn’t another fever dream.
In the end, only the thought of what Echo might do if he offended him made Heath obey. He took hold of the harness and put one leg over the griffin’s shoulders. Echo straightened up at once, making Heath fall into place just behind his neck and in front of his wings. Heath settled down there as well as he could, and put his hands through the loops in the harness the way he had seen Caedmon and the others do.
Echo didn’t wait around to make sure he was comfortable. He walked through the nesting chamber and out onto the balcony. The movement of his shoulder blades, which rose and fell with every step, made Heath grimace, but he forgot his discomfort the instant he realised what the spotted griffin was going to do.
‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Wait, no! I don’t want to — aaaaaaaargh!’
Echo leapt into the sky.
The survivors from Skenfrith took shelter somewhere between the rivers Nive and Snow, by the eerie shape of a frozen waterfall. Earlier — long, long ago, as it seemed now — Caedmon had told his followers that if disaster struck, this would be the place to regroup. But that had been when he still had followers, and a city to rule, and a hope of claiming his crown.
Now there was nothing but snow, and silence, and the waterfall trapped by ice before it could flow on toward the Northgate Mountains, and the South.
Caedmon stood beside it, staring expressionlessly at its shining white columns. He sensed Shar, standing over him. The griffin’s presence was large and warm, and the thought of her loosened the knot in his chest slightly. He still had her at least. He had lost everything else, but he still had her. He was not alone.
She said nothing, and he didn’t try and speak either. What could he possibly say? He had failed her more than anyone else, and nothing anyone said could change that.
Moving slowly and stiffly, he sat down on a rock and did the only thing he could do: wait. His head ached, his ribs throbbed and his hand was bleeding. He could hear the faint sounds of blood, dripping onto the snow and turning it red.
He didn’t try to make it stop. Let me bleed, he thought.
Beside him Shar huffed softly.
Caedmon had not expected anyone else to come, but they came. Little by little, in dribs and drabs, they came. Griffiners, all of them. Most of them were wounded. But they came to find him, landing in the snow above and around the frozen waterfall. The humans came to Caedmon, murmuring his name. The griffins went to Shar, bowing their heads.
Caedmon did his best to welcome the survivors, though his heart twisted even further as he realised how few there were. He recognised most of them, and found himself smiling when he saw one in particular. Lady Isolde, stern-faced as ever, and dignified even though she would never be Governor of Skenfrith again.
‘I’m so glad to see you,’ said Caedmon, meaning it.
‘And you,’ Isolde said stiffly. ‘How long are we going to stay here?’
Caedmon looked away and shook his head. What else could he possibly do? He wasn’t going to pretend that they had anywhere else to go.
He was about to go and start helping the wounded when Shar looked up at the sound of another griffin’s wings.
The newcomer came in to land, and in an instant his rider was off his back and running to Caedmon, throwing her arms around him.
The embrace was agony for Caedmon’s ribs, but he held her in return anyway, even though his followers were watching. ‘Myfina.’
She was crying. ‘Caedmon, thank gods you’re alive.’
Caedmon rested his head on her shoulder. ‘Myfina, I’m so glad, I …’ He broke off and let go, feeling his expression hardening. ‘Did you see anyone else? Did you see Heath?’
Myfina’s eyes were red. ‘I left him. I’m so sorry, Caedmon, I didn’t want to, but she forced me …’
‘Aye.’ Saeddryn appeared, gaunt and pale and grim as always. ‘I got her back t’her partner an’ we flew out of there. It was a near thing, too. We had to leave yer friend behind. He was too weak.’
Caedmon looked steadily at her. ‘We owe him a lot. You owe him a lot.’
‘People die,’ said Saeddryn. ‘A lot of them did, today.’
‘But — ’ Myfina began.
‘This is war,’ Saeddryn snapped at her. ‘War’s a time for tough decisions. An’ if ye want anyone to live, then ye have t’make those decisions quickly.’
The others were all moving in closer to listen. Everything being said now was being said publicly. Any weakness would be public as well.
But Caedmon didn’t care any more. ‘Mother, what are we going to do?’ he asked, and to his shame he heard his own voice turn thin and afraid, like the voice of a little boy, turning to his mother for help.
There was no warmth left in Saeddryn’s eye, or in her tone. ‘Ye are going to lead, Caedmon. Ye are the king here, not me.’
‘Yes, but — ’
‘These are yer followers,’ she said, waving a hand at the little band of lost and wounded griffins and griffiners. ‘Let them follow ye.’ She turned and began to walk away.
‘Where are you going?’ Caedmon called after her.
‘To pray,’ she said briefly, and was gone.
EIGHT
HELP
Saeddryn did not look back at her son and his friends. There was no point.
She walked through the snow without noticing the cold, her mouth a rigid line. She had let Caedmon lead his rebellion as he saw fit, and now he was facing the consequences. But she couldn’t blame him for everything. How could anyone have predicted Skandar’s treachery?
Curse him! He was supposed to be the partner of the Shadow That Walked; that was what he had been made for. But after he had brought Saeddryn back, he had had the gall to spurn her and ignore his maker’s commands. He had never liked her, she knew. But to turn his back on the Night God, who had given him his massive size and his astonishing powers … he was as bad as his old partner, with his whims and his weaknesses.
Saeddryn found a clearing out of earshot of the waterfall camp, and laboriously searched under the snow for rocks. While she placed them in a circle, she felt the hatred eating away at the place where her heart had once beaten. The half-breed had won today, but she would lose. Ultimately, she would lose. Caedmon had been defeated today, not Saeddryn, and if it came to it, Saeddryn was more than happy to forget about his honour and kill the repulsive half-breed brat herself.
When the circle was complete, she knelt in the centre and felt stronger there. She glanced skyward. It wasn’t night-time yet, but the sun was going down. No moonlight, but she would take a chance anyway.
She cut her hand and spilled her blood in the circle, reciting the ancient prayers. Reaching out with love, as the Night God had said she must.
Nothing happened, but Saeddryn did not give in. She stayed in the circle, and chanted and prayed. She sang the sacred songs and blessed each stone with the incantation of the full moon, forgetting everything but her master.
In time the first stars appeared. After them came the moon.
Darkness closed over Saeddryn’s eye, and she silently fell forward onto the snow.
Saeddryn …
Saeddryn opened her eye, and found herself in the dark place where the Night God waited. She knelt at once. ‘Master.’
The Night God looked sad. Northern blood was spilled today. Faithful blood.
Saeddryn grimaced. ‘I know. The Unpartnered are still on her side. And … Skandar.’
I know. The dark griffin has turned on us.
‘He should die for this,’ said Saeddryn.
Skandar is simple-minded, said the Night God. I cannot force him to understand. He will not let his first human go.
‘They were very close,’ Saeddryn admitted. ‘Closer than any
partners I ever saw. It was like they were brothers.’
It does not matter, said the Night God. Skandar brought you back, and that is enough. As long as Caedmon survives, this blasphemer can still be defeated.
‘I know,’ said Saeddryn. ‘I believe ye.’ She looked down. ‘Caedmon made a mistake in Skenfrith, but he did his best. He’s only a boy …’
A man, the Night God said softly. You cannot be his mother any more, Saeddryn. He must find his own way.
‘I … I tried.’
And you did well. But you are his greatest ally now, and you must help him.
‘I will, but I need help myself,’ said Saeddryn. ‘From ye, master. What should I do now? What should we do?’
The Night God smiled. You do not need me. You can do this thing yourself. Use the power that I have given you, Saeddryn.
‘But Caedmon — what should he do?’
Command you.
‘To do what?’ Saeddryn persisted.
To kill.
‘But kill whom? Caedmon should kill the half-breed himself to win his throne. And … and there’s … something in Malvern, something … I couldn’t … can’t …’ Saeddryn couldn’t look at her master as she stumbled over her words, hating herself for her weakness.
I understand, said the Night God. There is a power in Malvern. The half-breed’s true partner has done something to herself to make this happen. Even you cannot resist her, as you now know.
‘Then what should I do?’ asked Saeddryn. ‘I can’t go into Malvern with that … that thing there.’
Do not be afraid. This griffin has made herself more powerful than any griffin has a right to be, and she will not survive long. Too much magic drains the life from a griffin. She is already barely sane.
Saeddryn nodded. ‘So if I just bide my time …’
Oeka’s protection will be gone soon enough. And if the half-breed leaves Malvern again, you may catch her then. But you will need to be stealthy.
‘I can do that.’
You can, but not in Malvern. You will need a way to watch her. A way to know what she is doing, where she is going.
‘A spy?’ Saeddryn suggested.
Yes.
Saeddryn found herself thinking of Heath. ‘It’s a good idea, but if they were caught …’
The Night God smiled. Do not be afraid. I have a spy for you, one who will never be caught. A faithful companion, to help you in any way you ask.
Saeddryn looked up. ‘Who?’
My servant, said the Night God, standing aside. I offer him to you.
Saeddryn stood up. ‘Arenadd?’
Arenadd’s shoulders were hunched, his eyes fixed on the ground. He said nothing.
Go with her, the Night God commanded. Follow her into the world of the living, and obey her every wish without question.
Arenadd glanced at her, but stayed silent.
Saeddryn, however, did not. ‘Master, no,’ she said. ‘He can’t be trusted. Not against his own daughter.’
The Night God put a hand on his shoulder. He can now. Tell her, Arenadd.
Arenadd finally looked up. ‘Yes,’ he intoned. ‘I will help you, Saeddryn.’
Saeddryn’s eye narrowed. ‘What’s wrong with ye?’
Physically, Arenadd did not look any different than he had when he was alive, but there was something worn and defeated in his face and stance. ‘I have seen reason.’ There was defeat in his voice, too. ‘I was wrong to stand against you. I was weak. Caedmon is the rightful ruler.’
‘An’ Laela?’ Saeddryn said sharply, unable to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach at the sight of him. ‘What about her?’
‘She’s not the rightful queen,’ Arenadd said in a flat, dead voice. ‘She must be removed.’
Despite herself, Saeddryn wanted to reach out to him. ‘What happened, Arenadd? When did ye change yer mind?’
Arenadd’s hands clenched and unclenched. ‘My master taught me the right way. I watched what happened in Skenfrith. What Laela did was monstrous. She must be punished. I must help you.’
You do not need to be afraid of him, said the Night God. He understands now. Take him with you, and make use of him.
Saeddryn felt sicker every moment she saw Arenadd and heard his voice. It was as if something — or someone — had sucked out every scrap of the fire and passion he had had in life, and left him … broken.
This time, she really did reach out to him. ‘Come with me.’
Arenadd looked her in the face at last, and she saw a gleam return to his eyes. ‘Back home?’
Go, Arenadd, said the Night God, sounding almost motherly. Be with your true love at last, the way you were meant to be.
Arenadd kept his eyes on Saeddryn. ‘Yes … let me come with you … beloved.’ He took her hand, pulled her to him and kissed her on the mouth.
Before Saeddryn could pull away, or kiss him back, or say a word, she felt the darkness drain away, taking the Night God with it.
She opened her eye and light returned. Memories came rushing back, and she nearly leapt to her feet, turning around frantically to look. But she saw nothing but trees and stones, dark shapes against the snow. No Night God, and no …
It’s good to be back, said Arenadd’s voice, by her ear. Isn’t it, beloved?
Kullervo spent two pleasant days on Maijan before setting out for home. The first day he stayed close to the palace, and enjoyed a tour of some of its more impressive rooms courtesy of Akhane himself. After that he helped the Prince to search through his collection of books and decide which ones might be useful. Or rather, Akhane did the searching while Kullervo looked at the pictures, since he could barely read Cymrian and didn’t know a word of Amorani.
Akhane didn’t complain, of course. He remained in awe of Kullervo, and went out of his way to show him every courtesy, addressing him as ‘my Lord’ — or ‘Sacred One’ if no-one was listening — and making sure he had everything he asked for. Kullervo found it embarrassing, but he knew better than to refuse, and he soon came to appreciate the attention and the splendid food served to him. But before the day was out he suddenly found himself the owner of several new sets of clothing — all tailored to hide his wings as flatteringly as possible — and much more. Jewellery, boots, a magnificent sword with a golden hilt and a pommel in the shape of a sunwheel, and a silk pillow stuffed with sweet-smelling herbs. Senneck too was showered with gifts, including a beautiful new harness with silver fastenings and with blue stones set into it that matched her eyes, and a set of golden leg-rings.
‘They are like the rings I wore when Erian was named Master of Farms,’ she said, with what sounded like genuine awe. ‘But so much finer.’
Kullervo felt red-hot with shame, but he cheered up a little when he saw how pleased she was. He might have trouble with being shown too much respect, but Senneck was loving every moment of it.
Despite his own misgivings, he knew better than to even consider giving the gifts back, and accepted them with stammered thanks. Still, once he forced himself to relax, he couldn’t help but admire the sword. He’d never owned one before. Swords were expensive, and this one looked doubly so.
On the morning of the second day, he washed himself with more care than usual and dressed in his new clothes. They were light and cool, made just for the heat of Maijan, and fitted him bewilderingly well, especially considering that he’d refused to take his tunic off when they had measured him.
He put the sword on too, with the scabbard and belt it had come with. It was very unlikely that he would need it, but he couldn’t resist bringing it along anyway just to show it off.
Senneck groomed herself, and held out her forelegs so he could put on her new rings. ‘In Cymria, there would be a ceremony for this,’ she commented. ‘In front of all the great griffins of the Eyrie. The Eyrie ruler would have his human put the rings on me, and announce my ascension for all to hear.’
Most humans had trouble reading tone or emotion in a griffin’s voice, but Kullervo could catch
a hint of sadness in hers. ‘That happened for you once, didn’t it? With Erian.’
‘Yes. The Mighty Kraal himself accepted me as a griffin of Malvern, and my human as a lord. It was the greatest day of my life.’
Kullervo rubbed between her eyes. ‘I’m not the Mighty Kraal, I know, but I suppose I’ll have to do for now.’
Senneck haaked and shoved her head under his chin. ‘You are a prince of Malvern, Kullervo. Even the Mighty Kraal is nothing beside that.’
Kullervo laughed and kissed her on the beak. ‘Thank you, Senneck. And don’t worry: when we get home, I’ll make sure there’s a proper ceremony. I’ll ask Laela to give you an official position. I’m sure she won’t mind.’
‘It would be strange,’ said Senneck, ‘but amusing to hear my name screeched again in the Council Chamber. There would be griffins there that remember me, and how surprised they would be to see me on that platform after so long! Now, where shall we go today?’
Kullervo had to stop himself from kissing her again. ‘Wherever you want.’
‘I would like to see the city,’ said Senneck. ‘I have seen it from the sky, but not from the ground, and there is always more on the ground.’
‘That’s true,’ said Kullervo. His face lit up. ‘Let’s go and see a temple! There’s one above the city. I always wanted to see an Amorani sun temple.’
‘They revere griffins here even more than in Cymria,’ said Senneck. ‘I would like to see how much.’
Kullervo gave a broken-toothed grin. ‘I’d love to find out what they’d say if I showed them my wings. I won’t, though. Let’s go!’
They left the palace together, unable to avoid a group of three slaves who insisted on coming with them as an escort. Kullervo would have preferred to leave them behind, but he knew he would need them to translate and show him which way to go. Besides, Senneck wouldn’t hear of going without them.