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The Shadow's Heart

Page 41

by K J Taylor


  ‘We’ll leave tomorrow morning,’ Myfina put in. ‘With our griffins.’

  Llygad regarded her, and finally smiled. ‘We will miss you. You both learned well, and your powers have brought us good luck.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Caedmon. ‘I’ll never forget my time here with you. Llygad, if my mother comes back here looking for me, could you tell her where I’ve gone?’

  ‘I will,’ said Llygad.

  ‘Tell her I’ve gone to …’ Caedmon paused. ‘Eitheinn. That should be a good starting place.’

  ‘I will tell her,’ Llygad promised.

  Caedmon and Myfina excused themselves as politely as they could, and whiled away the rest of the day doing some minor repairs and improving their hut for whoever moved in after they left it.

  That evening they shared their last meal with the tribe, and sat up late around the communal fire, telling stories. Afterwards they retired to their hut and slept in each other’s arms.

  ‘You’ll be Malvern’s queen soon,’ Caedmon whispered before he fell asleep. ‘I can feel it.’

  ‘With you, Sire,’ Myfina whispered back.

  Morning came, and the two of them rose at dawn, just as they had done every morning during their time on the island. Together, they gathered up their few belongings and dressed in their warmest furs before walking away toward the eastern beach.

  There was no sign of Shar or Garsh there yet, so they sat down together on the sand and shared some dried meat.

  ‘I’m going to miss this place,’ said Myfina. ‘I really am.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Caedmon.

  ‘I mean,’ Myfina continued, ‘when I first got here, I hated it. I thought there was no way I’d ever get used to it. I even thought about just going and finding Garsh, and leaving for good. But now I’ve been here for so long that it feels like home. I’m almost scared to go back.’

  ‘Only sensible,’ Caedmon said gruffly. ‘Once we’re on the mainland we’ll be fugitives again.’

  ‘We’re fugitives here,’ said Myfina. ‘More or less.’

  ‘True, but — hey, look, there’s Shar!’ Caedmon stood up, shielding his eyes, and waved to Shar with his free hand.

  ‘I can see Garsh too!’ said Myfina, waving to her own partner.

  But Garsh stayed overhead, soaring in a tight circle over the two humans. The chicks stayed with him, leaving Shar to swoop down on her own.

  She landed in a spray of sand and bounded to Caedmon’s side. ‘Quickly, there is a griffin coming,’ she said tersely.

  Caedmon tensed. ‘Only one?’

  ‘Yes, but it is not wild. It has come from the mainland, and it is carrying something.’

  ‘What should we do?’ asked Myfina.

  ‘If there is only one, Garsh and I can kill it easily,’ said Shar. ‘But we could also flee. Caedmon, you must decide.’

  He thought quickly. ‘It could be a friend. If there’s only one, there shouldn’t be too much danger as long as you’re with us. Let’s wait until it arrives and see what it does. What was it carrying?’

  ‘I cannot tell,’ said Shar. ‘Something large and wrapped in cloth.’

  ‘Maybe it’s those heads Mother promised,’ Caedmon said darkly. ‘But let’s wait. When we see how it acts, we’ll have a better idea of whether it’s a friend or not.’

  They waited together in a little group, while Garsh watched from overhead. All of them knew that if the strange griffin decided to attack, Garsh would be in a perfect position to hit it from behind. The griffin who flew higher always had the advantage.

  Soon enough, Caedmon saw the stranger come into view. It flew slowly and wearily, weighed down by the large bundle that hung from its talons. Clearly the beast had flown all the way from the mainland with it. Caedmon relaxed when he saw how tired the griffin was; if it decided to attack, it would be at a disadvantage.

  But the griffin didn’t seem interested in attacking. It saw Garsh and avoided him, instead coming in low toward the beach in a clear gesture of non-aggression. A griffin looking for a fight would have attacked Garsh first, not landed and put itself at his mercy.

  Shar stood by warily as the stranger approached. She was female, middle-aged, her sandy brown feathers flecked with grey. She dipped her head respectfully to Shar.

  ‘I have come to bring a message and a gift for Lord Caedmon.’

  ‘Where have you come from?’ Shar demanded.

  ‘From Warwick,’ said the stranger. ‘From Lady Saeddryn.’

  ‘You have a message from Kraeaina kran ae?’ said Shar.

  ‘I do, but I must give it to Lord Caedmon only.’

  Shar started up angrily, but Caedmon pushed past her. ‘I’m Lord Caedmon,’ he said boldly. ‘What do you have to tell me?’

  ‘I have brought you this.’ The griffin lifted the bundle with her beak and dumped it at Caedmon’s feet. ‘A gift.’

  The bundle was wrapped in cloth. Caedmon drew his knife and slit it open.

  Saeddryn’s body fell out onto the sand.

  ‘No!’ Caedmon threw his knife down and fell onto his knees, turning the corpse over to look at it.

  Saeddryn’s face was ghastly white, the mouth hanging limply open in a silent scream. Even at a glance, Caedmon could see everything that had happened to her since her disappearance. The fingers crushed and broken, fingernails ripped out. Flesh burned and torn apart. And the gaping hole in the chest, filled with congealed blood that couldn’t hide the space where her heart had been.

  ‘No,’ Caedmon heard his own voice say, from somewhere far away. ‘No, no, no …!’

  The world seemed to spin around him. He looked up and saw the griffin looking down at him with pitiless blue eyes.

  ‘Before your mother died, she told us where to find you,’ she said. ‘But not willingly. It took many days. By the time we gave her death, she had already lost her mind.’

  Caedmon stood up slowly, letting Saeddryn’s body fall at his feet. ‘You …’

  ‘I am Senneck,’ said the blue-eyed griffin. ‘Senneck of Eagleholm, partner to Lord Erian Rannagonson. Now I am partnered with Prince Kullervo Taranisäii, the true heir to the throne of Malvern. Together, we have avenged Erian at last. And now I will protect my new human by killing you.’

  She lunged at Caedmon.

  Shar hit her in the flank, knocking her down. But she recovered herself with surprising speed. Ignoring the other griffin completely — and ignoring Garsh, who had seen the attack and was already swooping down on her — she charged.

  Caedmon stumbled away from her, desperately searching for Myfina. From somewhere to his left he heard her shout: ‘The Unpartnered are coming!’

  Distracted, he looked up and felt ice stab into his heart. The sky was full of griffins. Griffins, coming out of nowhere, confusing Garsh, who abandoned his attack on Senneck and wheeled around to try and face them.

  Senneck had kept her enemies occupied long enough, and now her companions descended on the island in their dozens. It was enough to distract Shar as well. Seeing the enemy close in on her young, she screeched her rage and bewilderment.

  Senneck took her chance, and brought her talons down on Caedmon.

  A woman’s scream tore the air. Senneck shuddered with the force of her blow, and hissed furiously as she pulled her talons out of her victim.

  Caedmon stared dumbly. Myfina had moved in front of him so fast he had barely even seen her, and for a moment it was as if she had simply appeared on the ground, torn almost in half by Senneck’s talons.

  Senneck recovered herself, and trampled over Myfina’s lifeless body to get at Caedmon.

  He ran.

  Forgetting Shar, and everything else, he ran inland as fast as he could, bounding over logs and stones and dodging trees until he reached the village. Then he ran through it, shouting at the top of his voice: ‘Run! Get away! Griffins are coming! Run!’

  Llygad appeared in front of him. ‘Griffins?’ he exclaimed. ‘What griffins have come?’

 
; ‘Enemies!’ Caedmon yelled in his face. ‘Dozens of them! Tell everyone to get away — hide! Get to the sea! Don’t try to fight!’

  Llygad had too much sense to waste time with questions. He darted off through the huts, roaring warnings and orders to everyone he saw. Caedmon went in the other direction to spread the word.

  It came too late. The Unpartnered were already landing. There was no room for more than one or two in the main clearing, so they landed wherever they could, some perching on treetops and sliding awkwardly down the trunks to get at their prey.

  One griffin, more practically minded, stayed where he was and simply used his magic to start a fire.

  It spread through the village in moments, and then to the forest beyond. The flames drove people away from their hiding places, out into the open, where they were caught and killed.

  Caedmon knew there was nothing more he could do. He ran out of the village, past his old hut. It was already burning. The forest was no good, so he made for the only other place he could think of that might be safe. The island of wild griffins.

  He reached the shore where the canoe was hidden and dragged it out into the water. He knew that trying to paddle it would make him an easy target, so instead he turned it upside-down and began to swim, hiding in the air pocket underneath it.

  It was the longest swim of his life. The water was freezing and the canoe was a dead weight. The waves constantly splashed up under it and into his face, leaving him gasping for air and only just able to keep himself afloat.

  Every moment he expected to be attacked. A griffin’s talons could cut straight through the flimsy canoe, and then they would pluck him out of the water like a fish. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw the bodies of Saeddryn and Myfina, their blank black eyes staring at him, and the knowledge thundered sickeningly through him.

  I’m all that’s left. The last one. My child …

  Even hatred wasn’t enough to take away the agony of knowing that.

  Eventually, when cold had numbed his body and grief had numbed his mind, he began to think of just letting himself sink. The ocean would take him into itself, and let him forget everything.

  But he kept on going. Somehow he couldn’t make himself let go.

  Sand touched his feet. Then he let go, and dived out from under the canoe. He surfaced within sight of the shore and swam the rest of the way, heart thudding painfully in his ears.

  He hauled himself out of the sea and stumbled up the beach toward the shelter of the trees, and finally let himself look up.

  They had followed him.

  Two Unpartnered hovered above. They were already coming lower, ready to attack him now that he had left the water. He could see their talons extending, clutching the air in anticipation.

  Despair weighed him down. Slowly, knowing that he had no chance, he staggered on toward the treeline. There was no way he would make it in time. He was going to die and he knew it, and with him the last of the true Taranisäiis would be gone forever.

  ‘Mother, forgive me,’ he mumbled to himself.

  A screech came from above. Caedmon did not stop to look. He didn’t want to see his death coming. He kept on going doggedly, thinking of what a pathetic ending this would be for the Taranisäii line. For its last descendant to die a failure, running hopelessly from his enemies.

  But the trees opened up in front of him, and he entered their shelter and collapsed there, shuddering with exhaustion. And still death did not come.

  He pulled himself upright and looked out at the sky over the shore. The two Unpartnered were still there, but they weren’t coming after him. They were circling uncertainly — Retreating! he thought suddenly. That was it, they were leaving! Flying away from another griffin! A big, rangy, wild griffin, coming at them from the island’s higher reaches and screeching a territorial challenge.

  It was one that the two intruders didn’t want to answer. They hung back, not quite fleeing outright, but unwilling to come any closer.

  The stalemate broke when a fourth griffin appeared from the main island. For a moment it looked as if it were about to join up with the two Unpartnered, and they acted as if they thought it would, but then it viciously assaulted them, taking them completely by surprise.

  One of them took a blow to the head and another blow to the wing, and tumbled out of the sky. It landed in the sea and floundered there, unable to swim. The other Unpartnered flew away back to the main island.

  That left the attacker, who came on toward the griffin island, screeching a counter-challenge to the wild griffin.

  A challenge that Caedmon recognised.

  ‘Shar! Shaaaar!’

  The wild griffin recognised it too. He screeched back unenthusiastically and retreated when Shar came closer. This was a griffin he didn’t want to fight again.

  Shar landed on the beach, and Caedmon ran to her. Forgetting the proper behaviour around griffins, he flung his arms around her neck.

  ‘Shar! Oh, thank the Night God …’

  Shar pushed him off her. ‘Stop that,’ she snapped. ‘Get onto my back. We must leave immediately. They will soon overrun this island as well.’

  ‘But Myfina — ’

  ‘She is dead. You cannot help her now.’

  ‘Garsh?’

  ‘He is also dead.’

  ‘Your chicks?’ Caedmon faltered.

  ‘I do not know,’ Shar said more quietly. ‘I think they are dead too. But they are old enough to care for themselves. What happens to them now is for them to choose. Come.’

  Caedmon climbed onto her back. ‘Where are we going?’

  Shar said nothing. The moment he was on her back she took off with a big, rough motion that nearly threw him straight off again.

  It had been a long time since he had flown with her, but all his time on the island had made him far stronger than he had ever been before. He held on tightly, and soon found himself moving in harmony with her, just as he had done a thousand times before.

  Shar avoided the main island, and flew straight over the third island, where the standing stones were. It was the same island where Caedmon and Myfina had buried Henwas, and if any of the lost tribe survived the massacre, they would bury Saeddryn and Myfina there. And with Myfina they would bury Caedmon’s child.

  Caedmon closed his eyes against the wind, and felt a massive void open up inside him. It had been there already, with the loss of Sionen. But it had widened when his sister Arddryn died, and now, with the deaths of both Saeddryn and Myfina, it consumed him.

  He didn’t try to make any more vows, not even to himself. He knew now that there was no point. Vows were for weaklings and dreamers. Nor did he make a promise.

  Instead, he decided. It was as simple as that.

  I will kill them all.

  THIRTY-THREE

  ROTTEN CORE

  Once Senneck had left with a group of Unpartnered, Laela didn’t waste any time before returning to Malvern. Her pregnancy had made her tired, and she didn’t like Warwick.

  Kullervo went with her. He went in griffin form, and flew at the rear of the flock that left Warwick. He spent the entire journey that way, and barely spoke to anyone. When they reached Malvern he silently retreated to his rooms, and slept alone in front of the fire.

  Once he would have become human again when he returned home. But he didn’t. He had done everything that he had been ordered to do for now, and there was no need to change. Besides, he didn’t want to be human any more.

  He lay on the hearth rug and stared dully at the fire, emotionless in his griffin shape.

  I don’t deserve to be human, he thought. What I did was inhuman. I can’t pretend to be a real man any more. Never again.

  Deep down, though, he still felt like a coward. He kept telling himself that he was staying a griffin as punishment, but the truth was that it was easier this way. The griffin shape did not feel anything half as powerfully as the human. It helped to protect him from the worst of his guilt.

  But not all of it. />
  I am a monster, he thought, the words looping endlessly in his head. A destroyer. I’ve become my father. I lied. I murdered. I saw something evil happen and did nothing. I am a monster …

  With those words torturing him, he fell asleep, and into a dream of darkness.

  A dream in which his father came to him.

  Not as a faint, wavering impression as he had before, but as something solid and sharp, as real as if he weren’t a dream at all. Kullervo saw him step out of the shadows and stand there, staring at him in silence. He was tall and thin, clad in a black robe that hid most of his body. His face was thin and scarred, with a pointed beard, framed by long, curly hair.

  Kullervo, can you hear me? his voice called. It wasn’t the barely audible whisper of before. Now it sounded real, loud enough for Kullervo hear the accent. Not a Northern accent at all, he knew.

  The voice of Arenadd Taranisäii had an accent belonging to someone who had been born and raised in Eagleholm.

  Kullervo felt no shock. ‘You’re Arren Cardockson,’ he said.

  Not many people remember that name any more, said the dream.

  ‘But it was your name,’ said Kullervo. ‘Wasn’t it?’

  Once. But that was a long time ago.

  ‘I’ve seen the place where you lived,’ said Kullervo. ‘And the place where you died.’

  All gone now, Arenadd said sadly. All ruined. I can’t remember it any more. Kullervo, you know I’m your father, don’t you?

  ‘Yes,’ said Kullervo. ‘And Laela’s father as well.’

  No. Laela was Arren’s daughter. He died before she was even born. You’re my only child, Kullervo. The only child of Arenadd Taranisäii. The son of the only woman I ever loved.

  ‘You can love, then?’ said Kullervo.

  Yes. Your mother was the last time I ever fell in love. Maybe that’s why she survived long enough to give birth to you.

  Kullervo watched him, feeling completely calm. ‘This isn’t a dream, is it?’ he said. ‘I saw you before, when I was awake. And I heard you too. You came to help me.’

  I did, said Arenadd. But I thought I might be able to talk to you properly while you were asleep.

 

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