A Vanishing of Griffins

by S. A. Patrick

  “So is Kerna a girl too?” asked Wren.

  “No idea,” said Barver.

  Patch and Wren looked at each other, not quite sure they’d heard right.

  “What?” said Wren.

  “You can’t really tell until dragons reach three or so,” said Barver. “When the dorsal spines start to appear, and the girls have a big growth spurt. Not like griffins! With griffins you can tell right off, just by their call.” Barver reached over to the water lever and switched off the flow. “Okay, I’m going in!”

  He opened the metal nappy, wincing at the smell. Patch and Wren backed away a little more just to be safe.

  “How are you getting on?” said Zennick, joining them. “Staying out of the fumes, I see? Very wise! How about you, Barver?”

  Barver looked decidedly queasy. “I forgot how bad it was, to be honest. What should I wipe with?”

  “Oh, let me show you how we do it here. Running water makes such a difference!” Zennick took the metal nappy and rinsed it in the bath water. There was a great hiss, and a cloud of steam rose up. Then he put Kerna in the water too; again, a hiss, and steam. “There we are!” he said. “All perfectly safe now!” He waved to Wren and Patch, and they came in. “So is this your first experience with a dragon baby? What did you think?”

  “Acid for poo…” said Wren, slightly in shock. “I didn’t expect it to be, well, actually toxic.”

  “I know!” said Zennick. “Babies! Although Kerna won’t poo again for at least two days. I understand human babies poo almost constantly? Must be exhausting! Go on, you three, I’ll finish up here and get Kerna to bed!”

  Their trip to the bathhouse turned out to be just what they needed. Yakesha gave them directions, telling them not to be more than an hour. The bathhouse was an impressive stone structure in the basement of the tower that connected to the aqueduct. It was enormous, with a high vaulted roof above a dozen wide square pools filled with water, ten feet at their deepest point.

  Patch and Wren stripped down to their undertunics, and Barver took off his harness and packs. In they went, splashing and laughing and having so much fun that they forgot how worrying everything was. When they got out, they saw other bathhouse users standing in a draught of warm air, drying themselves, so they did the same.

  Clean and refreshed, they made it back to the Delegate residence knowing they’d been much longer than the hour they’d been allowed, and they worried about getting a scolding. Yakesha opened the door to them, and they were relieved to see a smile on her face.

  “Just in time!” she said, inviting them in. “How was the bathhouse?”

  “Amazing,” said Wren. “It’s under the ground!”

  Yakesha’s smile broadened. “Incredible, isn’t it? Dragons and humans, you see! Such achievements! Under our feet, the sewers of this city – four hundred years old! – have kept us free from disease, and able to enjoy the fresh air the Gods send us!”

  Inside was a glorious sight: a table absolutely filled with delicious-looking food, none of which Patch could recognize. The smell was a heavenly mixture of spice, vinegar and sweetness. Barver actually had to wipe his chin, because he’d started to drool.

  “It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” said Wren.

  Zennick took a bow. “We may have gone slightly overboard,” he said. “But for your first visit to Skamos, you should try all the great dishes of the city!”

  And so they did: jackery leaves with kib radish; cheese and orno dumplings; pork and gilla. These and more, all of them full of flavour. When it came to the harker peas, though, Alia urged caution to Patch and Wren. “Take a nibble,” she advised. “For humans, they pack quite a punch!”

  The peas were white, in a pale yellow sauce. Each pea was about two inches across, and some had been thinly sliced.

  Patch took the smallest of bites from the thinnest of slices, but Wren tutted and shook her head at him. “You chicken!” she said, and popped a whole pea in her mouth. Alia seemed horrified.

  “That’s really tasty!” said Wren. “I don’t know what you were…”

  She stopped talking, her eyes starting to water.

  Patch had an idea why: even though he’d only had the tiniest bite, his mouth felt like he was eating actual fire.

  “It’ll pass in a minute, Wren,” said Alia, looking concerned. “Just be patient and breathe through the pain…”

  As for Barver, he was chomping away at the peas, which were clearly hitting the spot. But then, as he glanced at Wren, his eyes widened; Patch wondered if the peas had got to him at last, but Barver gave a small nod towards Wren’s back. Bemused, Patch leaned and saw what Barver had seen: Wren had a rat’s tail sticking up from the top of her trousers. He wondered if she knew about it, but that was soon answered, as her hand came around and felt it. She coughed.

  “I did warn you, those peas are an acquired taste!” said Alia. For a second, Patch wondered if she could see the tail too, but he didn’t think so, not from where she was sitting.

  “No problem,” Wren managed, trying to mask the heat with some of the other dishes. Gradually the tail shrank away.

  The three were shown to a guest bedroom. It was a wide room with a raised flat stone at the centre, which was Barver’s bed; by the walls were four beds with plush wool-and-straw mattresses, feather-stuffed pillows and soft blankets. Wren tried one out.

  “Ahhh!” she said. “This may be the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in!”

  “Well, I’m more dragon than griffin when it comes to beds,” said Barver. “Griffins do like a bit of padding, but dragons prefer solidity.” He patted his chest a few times, then breathed a little fire onto the stone to warm it up. “Especially when it’s hot!” He removed his harness and curled up on the heated stone, wincing a few times as he tucked his wings in.

  “Muscle cramps?” asked Patch.

  “The bathhouse helped,” said Barver. “But, yes, the cramps are still there.”

  Patch hunted in one of the harness packs, and took out his Pipe. “Would you like me to play, see if it helps?”

  Barver nodded, so Patch began the Curative Sleep, building it up the way he’d done before. As he played, Wren got off her bed and came over. She looked in another of Barver’s packs and took out The Art and Method of Morphic Transmutation, the book Alia had found for her.

  “How much have you read?” asked Barver.

  “I’ve only had time for a quick skim,” she said. “It makes for hard reading, but I’ll get there. I mean, I need to, given today…”

  “Does the book mention spicy food giving you a tail?” said Barver.

  “Oh, don’t,” she said. “I was so embarrassed!”

  “Nobody saw,” said Barver. “If they’d seen it, they probably would’ve yelled snake. It’s all fine now, no need to fret.”

  Patch scowled at them both. “Really, you two need to be quiet! I’m trying to play!”

  “Sorry,” said Barver. “I do appreciate it, Patch. When we fly to our rendezvous in Gossamer Valley I don’t want to have to spend time resting, I’ll have work to do!”

  Wren looked worried. “What if we don’t get permission?” she said. “I mean, Alia’s medal should go a long way, but what if it’s not enough?”

  “Then I’ll do my best, alone,” said Barver.

  “Doesn’t the Triumvirate’s Proclamation apply to you?” said Wren. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about me,” he said. “The dragons don’t count me as a proper dragon, and the griffins don’t count me as a proper griffin, so…” He blew a massive raspberry. “I can do what I like. No Proclamation to worry about, and no Covenant to break.”

  “I have it!” said Wren. “Dracogriffs! There must be others like you, right? They wouldn’t be forbidden either!”

  Barver shook his head. “I only know of two other dracogriffs. Both of them live way over in Yekarn, about as far east as you can get in the Dragon Territories,
in a religious retreat. They’re highers. You know about highers and lowers?”

  Wren nodded. “The highers are pretty, but fragile; the lowers…aren’t.”

  “Yep,” said Barver. “Well, these two would break if you so much as looked at them, I heard.”

  “So, what if it is only you?” said Wren. “What if you’re our only scout?”

  “Then I’ll do my best,” said Barver. “But we’d be relying on luck more than anything. The whole point is to take them by surprise and make sure their escape is impossible, or they’ll be off, and the Hamelyn Piper can hide again and bide his time!”

  Patch had had enough of all this chatter. “Can you both be quiet? I’m healing here!”

  Patch’s bed certainly was comfortable. He woke from wonderful dreams (dancing with his mother, always his favourite) to a gentle knocking on the bedroom door.

  The door opened, and in came Yakesha and Zennick. They looked rather tired.

  “Sorry to wake you early,” said Yakesha. “But you don’t happen to have seen little Kerna?”

  Patch and Wren shook their heads.

  Suddenly, from under Barver’s wing, the baby’s head appeared, and Kerna stood up. “Ba Va!” Barver opened his eyes and yawned, then noticed Kerna. “Uh…morning,” he said. “How long have you been there, little one?” He gave his aunt and uncle a confused look.

  “Sorry,” said Yakesha. “We do try our best, but Kerna is a bit of an escape artist.”

  “You should see what we’ve had to do to the cot,” said Zennick. “But no harm done, this time!”

  “Ba Va!” said Kerna again.

  Wren sat up. “Hi, Kerna, can you say Wren? Wren?”

  “Wen!” said Kerna.

  “And what about Patch?” said Patch.

  “Bub bub!” said Kerna, smiling. Snot oozed from both nostrils, catching alight a moment later.

  Patch ignored the giggles from Barver and Wren.

  The doorbell rang. “I’ll go and see who that is,” said Yakesha. “How about some lop-root tea, dear?”

  Zennick nodded. “A good idea.” He turned to Barver as he left. “Don’t let Kerna run around in here. Too many flammable materials!”

  Barver nodded and picked the baby up.

  “Everyone sleep as well as I did?” asked Patch.

  “Absolutely,” said Barver, between goo-gooing at Kerna. “Well enough that I didn’t notice our escape-artist guest sneak in!”

  “How are your muscle cramps?” said Patch.

  Barver grinned. “Are you fishing for compliments about your Healing Song? Although if you are, they’d be well-deserved. I think it really helped.”

  “What about you, Wren?” said Patch. “Discover anything in your shape-shifting book?”

  “Bits and pieces,” she said. “I tried to learn some of the exercises. It does mention sudden uncontrolled changes like my tail. Glitches like that are how children first discover their ability. Mostly harmless, it says. Stress is one thing that can bring it on, and the risk of inversion is slim.”

  “Inversion?” said Barver. He and Patch shared a wary look.

  “That’s when it’s bad,” said Wren. “It didn’t go into too much detail, though. Reckon you’d know it when you saw it. On the positive side, glitches are a sign of strong shape-shifting ability. Even if it takes years, I really think it’ll happen!”

  “And then you can work on becoming a tiny shark,” said Barver.

  At that, Alia poked her head into the room. “Something’s up,” she said. She looked decidedly worried. “Get dressed and come on.”

  Every citizen was watching.

  Yakesha stood at the outskirts of the city. Beside her were the elected City Elders: one dragon and one human.

  And in the distance, a darkness of dragons was approaching.

  “Not again,” muttered Patch. They were standing a little back from Yakesha and the Elders. Zennick had remained at home – Yakesha hadn’t wanted Kerna anywhere near this, whatever this turned out to be.

  “At least it’s not as big as last time,” said Wren, and she was right. It was nowhere near as huge as the army that had besieged Tiviscan; even so, there were more dragons in the sky than there were dragons resident in Skamos.

  “They’re taking their time to get here,” said Barver. “A classic show of strength. I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t like it either,” said Alia. She stepped forward to catch Yakesha’s ear. “What is this, Yakesha? Could they be here because of me, and the request?”

  Yakesha shook her head. “The letter won’t reach the Triumvirate until this evening at the earliest,” she said. “Besides, an army like that takes time to assemble. They would have been on their way even before we’d written your letter, Alia.”

  The dragons landed over a mile away. Once settled, a solitary dragon took off and flew towards them.

  “Ooh, a messenger,” said Wren. She nudged Barver. “That used to be your job, didn’t it?”

  “Don’t remind me,” he said.

  The messenger didn’t take long to reach them. “For the Triumvirate Delegate of Skamos!” he announced, holding out a scroll.

  Yakesha stepped forward. “I am Yakesha Knopferkerkle, Delegate,” she said, taking it. She stared at the messenger, who was just standing there.

  “I await a response,” he said.

  Yakesha glared at him. “Well, wait further away, lad,” she said, her authority clear. “Give us privacy.”

  The messenger flew off a little distance, and waited.

  Yakesha unrolled the scroll, and read aloud: “The commanding officer of these forces, General Yem Kasterkan, seeks a private audience with the Triumvirate Delegate of Skamos, so that he may give instructions as to the nature of a new Triumvirate Proclamation.” She rolled the scroll up again, frowning. “Whatever this is about, I don’t like it.”

  “Aunt Yakesha?” said Barver. “I know Kasterkan. He was in the army that attacked Tiviscan, although he was just a captain then.”

  “Quite a promotion to general,” said Yakesha. “Do you like him?”

  “He’s only a year older than me, and I knew him as a child,” said Barver. “Even then, I didn’t like him at all. Self-serving and nasty. He led the aerial bombardment units at Tiviscan, in charge of the rocks that destroyed the dungeon walls.”

  “He did a particularly good job of that,” muttered Patch, thinking back to the horror of it – the walls of his dungeon cell exploding as the rocks hit, almost killing both him and Wren.

  Yakesha turned to the City Elders. “He wants a private meeting, but whatever the general has to say, he can say it to us all. Agreed?”

  “Agreed!” said the Elders, as one.

  Yakesha summoned the messenger. “Tell your general I’ll grant an audience, here with the leaders and citizens of Skamos. Tell him the people of this city stand together!”

  The messenger returned to the army. Soon, a small group set off back towards the city – the general and four soldiers. They landed a short distance away, and the general strode out. There was contempt in his expression, Patch saw.

  “Delegate,” said the general. Yakesha nodded. “You dispense with a formal audience. Perhaps that’s for the best. It saves us time. The Triumvirate has spoken. The city of Skamos has long been a splinter in the eye of all dragons.”

  “All?” said Yakesha. “I beg to differ. We have five hundred dragons here who have a very different opinion, for a start!”

  The general ignored her. “It was never meant to be this way. An unnatural state, for dragons to sully themselves with the vermin humans! But the time has come for dragon and human to be sundered, pulled apart. Separation is the only way to restore the pride of dragons!” The general smiled a cold, terrible smile. “Dragon and human will no longer live together in the city. Separation! That is the order of the Triumvirate.”

  “The Triumvirate means to divide us?” said Yakesha. “Nonsense! Skamos has been a shared home for centuries. H
ow can you draw a border in a city where we all live as one?”

  “There will be no border,” said the general, raising his voice as shouts of protest came from the crowds of citizens.

  Yakesha looked exasperated. “Then who is to be evicted? The citizens of Skamos will not stand by while our friends are expelled!”

  The general glared at her. “You ask meaningless questions,” he said. “There will be no border, because there will be no longer be a city. We have come to destroy it!”

  Yakesha stared at the general. “Destroy the city?” she said. “The Triumvirate would never authorize that!”

  General Kasterkan offered a paper document, sealed with wax. “Read out the Proclamation,” he said. “The citizens shall be evacuated to safety, but the city will be obliterated.”

  Yakesha took the papers and carefully examined them. “The official seal of the Triumvirate,” she said. She broke the seal and read aloud: “The shared ownership of the city of Skamos, and the cohabitation of dragons with humans, will come to an end. General Yem Kasterkan, leader of the forces so tasked, is to achieve this aim by any means deemed necessary.” She looked up at the general, who had a satisfied expression on his face. “This is madness,” she said. “The Triumvirate can’t mean you to destroy the city, to turn thousands out of their homes!”

  “By any means deemed necessary, it says,” sneered General Kasterkan. “I deem it necessary. Therefore it’s within the law. Humans are vermin, and dragons will no longer tolerate them. Is it so hard to understand? The Triumvirate has decided that involvement with the world of humans is pointless. How better to demonstrate their resolve than the end of Skamos itself?”

  Beside Yakesha, the dragon Elder shook his head. “This city will never give in to oppressors!” he said.

  “Never!” cried the human Elder. She spat on the ground. “We can hold out for as long as it takes, just as our ancestors did!”

  “I know the history of this city, just as well as you,” said the general. “You could try and hold out for a few days, long enough for an army of Pipers to reach you. That was how it happened in the past, yes? But this time, things are different. The Pipers have their attention elsewhere. There’s no army coming to your aid, even if you could get the word out about your situation. Which you cannot: my soldiers are faster than any of you.”