by K J Taylor
Senneck forgot to be afraid and followed him. She was faster in the air than him, and more agile, but the darkness made up for that, and for most of the time she had to chase him rather than the other way around.
It made sense, anyway: she had come to him in the first place, and now she had to catch him if she wanted to make him hers.
They flew the mating flight together, passing over the tower-top where the human celebration was being prepared, and when they were tired they landed on top of one of the smaller towers. There they groomed each other, then mated at last.
Caught up in the oldest animal ritual of all, Senneck completely forgot about her ambitions and her plans.
She forgot about Kullervo and what he might do when he found out. She never even thought of Erian, and how betrayed he would have felt if he were alive. But she had never looked to him for approval, and besides, he belonged to the past now. This was the present. And the future would be even better.
THIRTEEN
LIARS
As Heath told it later to Caedmon and Myfina, Echo the spotted griffin, having effectively kidnapped him from Skenfrith, obviously had no intention of listening to him when it came to where they would go next. He skilfully avoided the other griffins loitering on the city walls, dodging two of them who decided to chase him. He had never flown with a human on his back before, and Heath was very lucky not to fall off and die right there and then. He clung on in desperation, until his knuckles whitened and his fingers began to go numb.
It didn’t take him long at all to realise that he was much weaker than he had realised. Echo banked sharply and flew upward, beating his wings hard for extra height. The sudden motion threw Heath sideways, and for one heart-stopping instant he thought he was going to fall.
Other sounds dimmed as his heart thudded deafeningly in his ears. His vision swam. A grey haze filled his mind, and he began to feel a strange disconnection from his body. Somewhere below him he was vaguely aware of a man pulling himself back into place on a griffin’s back, babbling incoherently and snatching at the harness, but as the haze thickened it didn’t feel as if that man was him, or related to him, or had anything to do with him at all.
The feeling passed eventually, and he found himself hanging on to Echo’s back with hands that had gone as hard and rigid as steel, while the rest of him was limp and useless. Groaning, he forced himself to take control of his own body again, and did his best to sit properly. Wind dragged at his clothes and hair, and flying drops of moisture made the wound on his face sting.
Very slowly, he managed to make his hands relax their grip, and tried to take stock.
He was too confused to be aware of much, but when he thought about it later on he realised that he had fainted, probably from a mixture of fright and lingering fever. Thank gods, his survival instincts had made him keep holding on even while he was unconscious.
The much clearer thought of what would happen if he fell off kept him awake after that, and he breathed deeply and did his best to adapt to Echo’s movements in the air. Riding a griffin, he soon learned, wasn’t just a matter of sitting there like an idiot and letting the griffin do the work. Flying was a much more delicate activity than it looked, and if he was going to be a part of it, then he had to work with his partner.
With that in mind, he quickly picked up on how he should lean when Echo did, and keep his legs forward so they wouldn’t get in the way of the griffin’s wings. Matching Echo’s rhythm in this way helped to calm him down, and when he felt safer he leaned sideways slightly and risked a look down.
His stomach lurched when he saw how far up they were.
Shadows save me, he thought, what have I gotten myself into this time?
This whole situation was insane. He, the thief and professional cheat, who had been born in a slum and spent his whole adult life lying about one thing or another, was now flying on a griffin’s back. Why, he wasn’t quite sure, but the important questions now were: where was Echo taking him, and why? Was Heath Echo’s prisoner now, or, even more insanely, his partner?
An idea came to him and he looked around for the sun. It was just about right overhead, but not quite. Noon was close, then. And he was fairly certain that it was morning … yes, he decided, he’d seen the sun further down in that direction before. Therefore, if he followed the path it had taken with his eyes, he would be looking east. So that made the opposite direction west, and therefore Echo was heading …
‘South!’ Heath said aloud, though the rushing wind in his ears meant that he barely heard himself.
What was south, then? Lots of things. Farmland, mostly, and the Northgate Mountains beyond that. Heath had spent most of his life travelling, so he knew where all the major cities were. Skenfrith was the second southernmost of them, built next to the River Nive.
Heath looked down again and saw the river. It had to be the Nive — it was flowing southward. South toward the Northgates — and Malvern.
His stomach lurched. Malvern! Where else could Echo be going? Griffins didn’t bother with farmland or villages. Unless they were wild, they lived in cities. And the only city in this direction was Malvern. Malvern, where he would land on one of the Eyrie’s towers, and then …
And then?
Heath’s quite colourful imagination painted awful pictures of what might happen then. And he was in no state to fight.
Another man might have panicked, or even tried to fight Echo and make him land, but Heath hadn’t survived this long as a criminal by accident. Fear trickled through his brain, but it was a familiar fear, the fear of every criminal: the fear of being caught and punished. Every time he had felt it in the past, he had fought it down and found a way to survive. He fought it down now, and let it invigorate him, helping his devious mind to race ahead and start to plot.
Heath’s suspicions had been absolutely correct. Echo flew on steadily, following the river, and made straight for Malvern. He flew on straight over its walls and toward the Eyrie, ignoring the other griffins who immediately took an interest. He went in among the towers as if he knew exactly where he was going, and touched down neatly on top of the Council Tower, where arriving griffins always landed to announce themselves. Those who didn’t were liable to be attacked.
Malvern’s griffins were quick to respond. Echo had scarcely folded his wings before they arrived, landing around him and rushing in aggressively to confront him. Echo quickly lurched sideways, throwing Heath off his back, and snarled back at them. They stayed out of reach, unwilling to risk an injury, but seemed content to wait and make sure the intruder didn’t escape. Echo didn’t try, and only moved to keep Heath close to him, rasping something that sounded like a command. Heath, who had long ago seen that the spotted griffin was his best chance for survival, was more than ready to obey. He stood by Echo’s flank, and did his best to smooth down his own hair and clothes while he waited for whatever happened next.
Then Skandar arrived, and he nearly spat out his own heart.
The massive dark griffin landed with a thud, scattering the others, and advanced on Echo. He was so huge, and his reputation was so terrifying, that even though he only walked toward them and didn’t hiss or threaten, Heath saw his approach as an attack. He put his arms over his head to try and protect himself, and darted around to hide behind the nearest cover: Echo.
Luckily for him Skandar wasn’t paying attention. He was more interested in Echo, who, to his credit, didn’t try to run away. The spotted griffin crouched low and bowed his head, saying something in griffish. Skandar replied and a short conversation ensued, none of which made sense to Heath. Finally Skandar shoved Echo roughly with his beak and flew off.
Heath risked straightening up. ‘Where did he go? Is he coming back?’
Echo glanced at him, and sat down to nibble at his talons. ‘Eeeeesh,’ he hissed by way of reply.
Heath considered running off just then, but decided against it. He’d never get through the Eyrie unnoticed. And besides, when he moved too far away E
cho immediately herded him back with an angry hiss.
Skandar returned a little while later. This time, he had a human with him.
Heath’s insides withered. Skandar had brought a young woman with long, curly hair. She would have looked like any other Northern woman, if it weren’t for the blue eyes glaring straight at him.
Queen Laela.
‘Who’re you?’ she demanded unceremoniously. ‘Hurry up, I ain’t got all day.’
Heath offered her his most charming smile. ‘My Lady. It’s an honour to meet you.’
She snorted. ‘Thanks. Now get on with it; I’m a busy woman.’
Heath kept the smile in place. ‘My name is Gwydion,’ he said, amazed once again by how confident he sounded, and how truthful. ‘I’m from Warwick. And this is Echo.’
Laela did not smile back. ‘And?’
Heath coughed and allowed some nervousness to show. ‘Er … well, I’m really not sure how to begin. I think I’ve just become a griffiner.’
‘So I heard,’ said Laela. ‘How? Start with who yeh are.’
‘Of course.’ Heath fidgeted and glanced at Echo. ‘My father was a merchant in Warwick, but I don’t suppose you’d have heard of him. He died not long before the Unpartnered captured the city — the rebel Saeddryn had him executed for speaking up in your support. I had to go into hiding until the Unpartnered arrived. When the fighting started in the streets I did what I could, but I was hurt — you can see it here, on my face. My mother cared for me, but she was ill and died not long afterward. And while I was wondering what to do next, this griffin came to me. I can’t understand what he says, but he made me go with him. I bought him a harness, and he brought me here, and I think he wants me to swear loyalty to you as a new griffiner. I think that’s how it’s done when someone becomes a griffiner. My Lady.’ He bowed, feeling sick to his stomach. Before Laela could speak he let himself blunder convincingly on. ‘I — I’ll understand if you don’t want us, and I’m really not sure … I’m not a noble, after all, and I don’t know what Echo really wants, I’m just guessing. But I’ve always supported you, my Lady, and you, Mighty Skandar, and I suppose if I don’t swear loyalty to you then that would make me a rebel or something.’ He shuddered. ‘I don’t want to be like one of them. They killed my father and destroyed my home. If I could find a way to fight them, I would.’
There. He’d done his best, and now looked at Laela with a hopeful expression that wasn’t all acting.
She stared back stonily. Then, joy of joys, she smiled. ‘That’s one damn fine story, Gwydion. A new griffiner, eh?’ she looked at Echo. ‘An’ that’s one special-lookin’ griffin, too. Spots! I never saw a thing like it before. So, yeh want t’be my man, do yeh?’
‘Yes,’ Heath said at once. ‘If you’ll have me. But I don’t know what I’d have to do …’
‘Easy,’ said Laela. ‘Swear loyalty in front of the Council, an’ we’ll see if we can’t find an apprenticeship for yeh. One of the masters would take yeh on an’ teach yeh what yeh needed t’know. Got any skills?’
‘Oh! Er, yes, skills. I’m good with numbers.’ Heath nodded quickly, deliberately letting his words come out in an eager rush. ‘Good at counting money and working out measurements and things. My father sold cloth, and I was learning to follow in his footsteps, so he taught me everything he knew.’
‘Money, eh?’ said Laela. ‘I’m pretty sure the Master of Gold is lookin’ for an apprentice. Well …’ She nodded to herself. ‘We can worry about that later. What yeh just said matches what yer partner here said, an’ that sounds about right. Come on down an’ we’ll see if we can’t find a room. Yer obviously in pretty bad shape, an’ I reckon a hot meal oughta do wonders.’
She looked at Skandar, who had already lost interest in the pair of them, and beckoned Heath to come with her.
So ‘Gwydion’ and Echo got their room, and were left in peace there to rest.
Once they were alone, Gwydion turned to his partner. ‘Listen, Echo,’ he said, ‘if that’s your name. I can’t speak griffish, but I’ve heard most griffins can understand human anyway, so I’ll just talk.’
Echo had turned to look at him and inclined his head as if to indicate that he was listening.
‘Now, I don’t know what you said up there,’ Gwydion went on, ‘but it must have fitted with what I said, and thank gods for that. If I could have discussed a plan with you beforehand I would have, but you didn’t give me a chance. I had to improvise, and if you want to survive here then you’ll have to go along with it.’
Echo didn’t move.
‘I know why you brought me here,’ said Gwydion. ‘I had plenty of time to figure it out on the way. Skenfrith’s destroyed, and Caedmon and the others are probably dead. The best chance for both of us is just to settle down here. Become partners and join up with the Queen. Yes?’
Echo said nothing, but as Gwydion spoke he inclined his head ever so slightly. Yes.
Gwydion felt sadness eat at his heart, but he didn’t show it. ‘You probably saved my life by getting me out of there. I owe you one. And if this is what you want, then so be it. You can trust me to carry it off; I’ve …’ He hesitated. He had never discussed his past openly with anyone before, but there was something about Echo’s silence that made him feel safe to do it now. ‘I’ve spent my whole life being whoever I wanted to be. I haven’t used my real name once in twenty years. Even my closest friends don’t know what it is. It works for me, and I’m good at it. You want me to be a griffiner who’s a loyal subject of the Queen. So I am.’ He shook himself. ‘Since we’re both meant to be from Warwick, I’ll have to tell you what it looks like, and anything else you might need to know, just in case someone asks questions. I’ve never had an accomplice before, but …’ He grinned. ‘I think you’ll do well. You don’t give anything away. Does all that make sense to you?’
Echo clicked his beak briskly. From the way he was standing and holding his head, it was obvious that he was playing close attention.
Gwydion glanced toward the door and kept his voice low. ‘I’ll teach you some tricks of the trade, if I can. There are ways of making people want to believe what you tell them. Be cheerful, and play the fool if you have to. Act harmless and friendly. Tell plenty of jokes and stories, keep people talking. Entertain them, and they’ll end up liking you without even realising that they don’t really know anything about you.’ He shrugged. ‘It works on humans. It might work on griffins. You’d know better than I would! Anyway …’ His face was aching horribly, and greyness had returned to his mind. ‘I need to lie down for a while. I hope you understood me and that you get some use out of it.’
He looked hopefully at Echo. The spotted griffin gave no sign of comprehension, and Gwydion finally gave in and made for the bed.
Echo’s chirp made him look back. The griffin had stood up and was jerking his head in a beckoning kind of way.
‘What is it?’ Gwydion asked.
Echo stayed silent. He stretched his head out and went rigid. A moment later his beak opened and pale mist drifted out — so pale it was almost invisible. It was magic, but unlike the magic Gwydion had seen griffins use once or twice, it wasn’t bright or forceful, and it didn’t spread out from its maker to affect the world around it. Instead it drifted back over Echo’s body before soaking into his coat.
Echo’s rigid stance disappeared and he relaxed and shook himself vigorously. A cloud of fur and feathers fell away from his body, but underneath it a new coat had already sprouted. However, this one was grey and white, with attractive silver ticking around the neck and face.
With it, Echo looked like a completely different griffin. But the eyes had stayed the same. They looked straight at Gwydion’s face, and as he stared back in wonder he knew what that look meant. Don’t worry about me. You’re not the only one who can be whoever he chooses to be.
When Gwydion saw that look, he knew for certain that he was going to be all right. It might not be rational, but he decided there and then t
hat he was going to trust this griffin. From now on they were a team.
He was used to hiding his thoughts, so none of this showed on his face. He only smiled and nodded back at Echo before he removed his boots and flopped down onto the bed.
Echo left for his nesting chamber, carelessly trampling his shed fur into the carpet on the way.
Gwydion slept like the dead and suffered from unpleasant dreams. The only one he remembered afterwards was more of a fragment than anything else. He saw Caedmon, standing somewhere on the other side of a massive chasm. Caedmon’s mouth moved but he made no sound, and his eyes were wide as he beckoned, pleading with Gwydion to come to him. But the darkness between them was deep and freezing and full of death, and Gwydion was not Heath, and had no courage left to try and cross it.
The next day came, and Gwydion and Echo were both provided with a hearty breakfast. Gwydion’s clothes had been taken away for washing, but he was given a new set — not overly fancy, but well made and comfortable.
They had the morning to do whatever they liked, so Gwydion took the opportunity to bathe. Gwydion wasn’t a beard-wearer, so he shaved as well, and trimmed his hair — something he’d done himself plenty of times.
He inspected himself in the mirror, and nodded to himself — he looked like Gwydion now. Gwydion was younger than Heath and much more innocent. He’d never committed a crime in his life, or left his home city before. He knew nothing of the world, and griffins and griffiners intimidated him. But he was proud of everything he had done so far, and determined to prove himself worthy of both his new partner and the queen he had come to serve.
Someone knocked on the door.
‘Come in!’ Gwydion called.
The door opened and a servant bowed. ‘My Lord. Ye are summoned to see the Master of Gold. I’ll show ye the way, when yer ready to leave.’