The Marriage of Gryphons (Penny White Book 3)

by Chrys Cymri

  I forced my voice to remain even. ‘Tell me what you’ve been doing, Holly.’

  ‘People want to be buried next to their loved ones,’ she said. ‘This way they know they can. I mark the plan, and when you come to me to pick out the spot for a burial, I avoid those which I’ve reserved.’

  ‘And the fee?’

  ‘Only a hundred pounds.’ Holly looked over at the treasurer. ‘And I pass it on to church funds.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right, then,’ Rachel said placidly as she resumed her knitting. ‘It’s all to the church’s benefit.’

  ‘It’s not all right,’ I retorted. ‘Plots have to be reserved through the Diocesan Registry and the appropriate fee paid.’

  ‘Which is how much?’ George asked.

  ‘Around £250.’

  ‘Which goes to the diocese,’ Holly pointed out. ‘This way, people pay less, and our church gains the funds.’

  ‘Seems good to me,’ George said.

  I could feel my forehead tightening. ‘No, it’s not good at all. This is not how the church operates. We don’t take money under the table.’

  Holly’s face flushed. ‘I haven’t done anything illegal.’

  I shrugged off the hand Rosie tried to place on my arm. ‘Haven’t you? Those monies rightfully belong to the diocese, not to Saint Wulfram’s.’

  ‘Now, now, Vicar,’ said Robert. ‘Holly only has the best interests of this parish at heart.’

  The nods around the table made something throb above my eyes. I rose to my feet. ‘This is unacceptable. We cannot have a churchwarden accepting money from the public for providing something from the church.’

  Holly stood as well. ‘We have a wall to fix, heating bills to pay, not to mention the parish share. The diocese can do without. Our church needs the money.’

  ‘It’s unacceptable,’ I repeated. ‘Holly, I want you to consider your position.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘You can’t fire me. Churchwardens are appointed by the bishop.’

  ‘I didn’t say you were fired.’ The throb was upgrading to a headache. ‘I asked you to consider your position.’

  ‘She’s our only churchwarden,’ George pointed out. ‘Let’s not be hasty here.’

  ‘I suggest,’ Rosie said firmly, ‘that we consider this meeting over, and all go home to pray over our next steps.’

  I grabbed my coat and left the room. Behind me, I heard the PCC members intoning the words of the Grace, and for a moment I hesitated. Then I continued outside, my car keys already chiming in my hand. Never had I needed red wine so badly.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘You didn’t establish a time?’ Morey asked, pacing across the kitchen table.

  I glanced at the wall clock. 9am. ‘She just said morning. I haven’t seen any dragon wearing a wristwatch.’

  ‘Gryphons can tell time, I should think dragons can too.’

  Clyde made an enquiring noise. I shook my head, which made me wince. The ibuprofen had helped, but I was still recovering from drinking Gigondas until the early hours of the morning. ‘No, you can’t come with us. But I’ll put you into your run when we go. James will bring you back in at night.’

  A thump drew our attention to the back garden. This time, Tyra had landed where I’d asked. Her feet sank into the tangle of weeds, and her ears drew back in distaste. I shrugged into the fur coat and collected backpack and snail.

  Tyra’s ears flattened even further against her head as she saw the snail shark. But she said nothing as I placed Clyde inside the dog run. ‘I haven’t brought food or anything,’ I told her as I prepared to climb up to her neck. ‘You did say there would be supplies?’

  ‘I’ve arranged for everything you’ll need.’ She snorted. ‘It wouldn’t help our cause if you were to die before reaching Raven.’

  ‘How very reassuring,’ Morey said as he landed on her back. ‘And where exactly are you taking us?’

  ‘Grfnland.’

  I clambered up her side and took my place between her neck spines. ‘Do you mean Greenland? You’re taking us to the Arctic? In winter?’

  But Tyra had kicked us away from the ground and we were swirling up into the grey sky. Too late now. I gritted my teeth as my hands chilled. Although I had gloves in my backpack, I didn’t dare wear them. From past experience, bare hands were better for holding onto neck spines.

  The dragon dipped a wing, and slipped through a thin place. Hot sun pounded against my head, and I closed my eyes against the glare from the nearby sea. Tyra proved to be no more considerate of passengers than Raven. Without warning, she tucked in her wings and went into a steep dive. Morey was shaken loose, and I grabbed desperately at a spine as my body rose from her neck.

  The gryphon just had time to thud onto my shoulder before we crossed back to Earth. A harsh wind whipped the coat up from my knees, and Morey’s claws dug into the fur as he struggled to hold on. I pressed my legs against Tyra’s neck and switched my right hand from her spine to grip Morey’s forelegs instead.

  The long blue-green wings stretched out, and we glided through another crossing point. Now we were in night, the air calm, the temperature pleasantly warm. Morey cautiously crawled down my front and tucked himself into my coat. I was once again able to grip the spine with both hands.

  ‘Still there?’ Tyra called back.

  ‘Both of us,’ I affirmed. ‘But no thanks to you.’

  Her snort jounced my legs. ‘Only the best can ride a search dragon. And I have no interest in anything less than the best.’

  ‘Best or not,’ Morey muttered to me, ‘we’d be the same indistinguishable bloody pancake at the end of a long drop to the ground.’

  We returned to Earth, and flew for several minutes over a stretch of wasteland. Barren trees twisted across rocky hillsides, and I searched in vain for any clues as to where we could be. For a moment I thought I saw some clay dwellings rising in the distance.

  Then we passed through another thin place, and the light changed again. The skies were pre-dawn blue, and the air chilled my face. I glanced down. Snowy fjords stretched out to our right, and blue-white icebergs dotted the dark ocean below us.

  Tyra went into a long spiral. We seemed to be headed for a beach, although the mix of gravel and ice didn't match my dreams of a holiday destination. It was only as she backwinged in to land that I noticed a small boat bobbing alongside a short pier.

  The landing was smoother than I’d expected. Tyra twisted her neck to look back at us. ‘Off. I don’t want to stay here too long. It’s cold.’

  I slipped to the ground. Although I pulled on my hat and gloves, the temperature was about the same as that in my own back garden. ‘You’re sure this is Greenland?’

  ‘A search dragon always knows where she is,’ Tyra said grandly. ‘This is southern Grfnland. And Aaviak has come as promised.’

  ‘Auiak,’ a deep voice contradicted. ‘I gained my adult name four years ago.’

  I moved closer to the dragon as a cream-white bear marched from the pier. The polar bears I’d seen in zoos had not prepared me for the sheer size of one when there was no barrier between him and me. I felt Morey tense against my neck.

  ‘Greetings, brave Auiak,’ I said with a calm I didn’t feel.

  The bear halted a few yards away. The jaws opened, revealing the sharp teeth. ‘Brave,’ he rumbled. ‘Haven’t been called that before.’

  ‘He’s a were,’ Morey whispered.

  ‘Oh, good,’ I muttered back. ‘So he won’t try to eat us for breakfast?’

  ‘Only when he’s in bear form.’

  Morey’s head was too close to mine for me to give him a glare. ‘Well, he’s not very likely to shift to human shape, is he? Far too cold.’

  Tyra stepped away from me. ‘I leave them in your care, Auiak.’

  The small black eyes glinted. ‘And my payment?’

  ‘Half now.’ Tyra stretched her neck to bite at a leather bag strapped to her hind leg. The bindings gave way, and she deposited the s
atchel at the bear’s feet. ‘The other half will be paid if these two return with news of Raven.’

  Auiak studied me. ‘And that coat.’

  I drew the fur closer around me. ‘I need it.’

  ‘Not now. When you leave.’ He dipped his head in a nod. ‘The coat when you leave.’

  Strictly speaking, it was government property. But I decided to worry about squaring it with Sue at some other time. I was beginning to lose the feeling in my feet. ‘When we leave.’

  ‘Send me a rat if you need fetching,’ Tyra told me. Then she ran down the beach, gravel flying as she picked up speed to launch herself into the air.

  ‘But I don’t have a rat!’ I shouted at her receding form.

  ‘The settlement does,’ Auiak said. ‘Can take awhile. Only one rat king in Grfnland. Pray that you find this other dragon alive. But make sure he first brings you to me. For the coat.’

  ‘Certainly.’

  The bear picked up the bag, the leather crinkling under the pressure of his teeth. Then he turned and picked his way back to the pier. I followed him, since that seemed what he expected of me. After one dangerous slip, I tried to avoid the patches of ice glistening amongst the gravel.

  ‘It’s fascinating,’ Morey said.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘The settlement. On the hill. Have you noticed how the houses are all in different colours?’

  ‘I’ve been too busy watching where I put my feet.’ Then a thought struck me. ‘The bear. Auiak. He spoke to us in English.’

  ‘Tyra probably chose him for that reason.’

  The steps up to the pier were slimy. I took my time climbing up. The small boat was at the end of the wooden walkway, and I forced myself not to look at the waves splashing on either side of me as I made my way over to Auiak. ‘Do we need to call for the captain?’

  The bear clambered onto the deck, the satchel still in his jaws. I followed him. A glass fronted cubicle was ahead of us, wooden wheel marking it out as the pilot’s control booth. To the right was a wooden door, which Auiak pushed open. Warm air brushed past my cheeks, and I hurried to follow him down a set of steps and shut the door against the cold.

  We stood inside a small lounge. A table filled the middle, and a pile of maps was spread out across the dark surface. The tan colour made me decide that the charts were made of leather, not paper. Benches lined the walls on either side. The proportions were bear-sized, and so Auiak easily navigated the space. He placed the bag on the table. Then, with a shimmer that brought back my headache, he changed to human form before going down another set of stairs at the far end.

  He’d become a naked human, of course. I removed my gaze from his rather firm buttocks and removed my hat and gloves. Morey hopped down onto the table and poked at the satchel. ‘Obsidian points indeed. These are very long.’

  ‘We’ve arrived, it’s warm, and I don’t care what he does with them.’ I took a seat. A sudden thought struck me. ‘Do you think bears put toilets on their boats?’

  Morey sniggered. ‘You’d better hope so.’

  ‘And you’re going to enjoy relieving yourself in freezing temperatures?’

  The boat juddered as engines kicked into life. A naked man climbed up into the lounge, and then a bear lumbered outside. I shut my eyes and took deep breaths.

  I heard Morey fly past my head. ‘He’s casting off. Oh, this is fascinating. He’s alternating between man and bear. I guess fingers are more useful than paws, but it’s too cold to stay human for very long. You should watch.’

  ‘You know that weres give me a headache.’

  ‘So do PCCs. Or at least the aftermath.’

  ‘You had some of the Gigondas too,’ I protested.

  ‘Just one glass. You drank all the rest.’

  ‘You don’t suppose,’ I asked hopefully, ‘that he keeps any alcohol on board?’

  ‘It’d be better for your bladder if he didn’t.’

  I opened my eyes as the boat began to move, and then climbed up the stairs to look past Morey. Auiak stood in bear form by the wheel, his paws pressing against the spokes as we left the pier behind. As the boat made a sudden lurch, I was suddenly reminded of the many hours I’d spent with Alan on his beloved boat. I’d sold The Fancy Free soon after my husband’s death, but now I found myself missing those carefree days.

  We both returned to the benches. A moment later, the door opened and shut, allowing a blast of cold air to swirl around the lounge. Auiak took a seat near me, once again in human form. ‘That should do.’

  ‘You don’t need to steer the boat?’ I asked, my eyes firmly fixed on the brown eyes under the shaggy platinum blond hair.

  ‘Autopilot. Only for a couple of minutes. Then we’ll be in iceberg area.’ He leaned back, forcing me to concentrate harder than ever not to glance down. ‘Now, then. Stairs behind me lead to cabins. You take the one on the right, with the gryphon. Privy is next door over.’

  The unwelcome knowledge that I’d have to share sleeping space with Morey was counter-balanced with the happy news that I wouldn’t have to try to pee over the side of a moving boat in Arctic temperatures. ‘And your cabin is on the left?’

  ‘You’re not to go in.’ Auiak leaned in close, his growl more bear than man. ‘Understand?’

  ‘Of course,’ I assured him. Then I patted the table. ‘These charts, do they show where we’re going?’

  ‘Aye.’ He pulled one over to him. The map very helpfully landed on his lap. ‘The dragon said your one is up Tasermuit Fjord. We’ll be halfway there by tonight.’ His near-black fingernail traced a route past fingers of grey land and slivers of blue water. ‘We moor here tonight. Tomorrow into the fjord. Then you depart to find him.’

  ‘Find him how?’

  Auiak pulled over a second map. ‘He be here.’

  I bit my lip as I looked down at the topographic map. The large red ‘X’ was surrounded by symbols which made little sense to me. ‘Do you have a compass I can borrow?’

  The were exposed his teeth. It took me a moment to realise that he was grinning. ‘The lemmings will help you.’

  ‘Lemmings? You mean the animals that throw themselves off cliffs?’

  ‘They like news and fuss and bother, the lemmings.’ Auiak folded up the map and handed it to me. ‘And you will be news and fuss and bother indeed. They’ll take you to your dragon.’

  ‘He’s not my dragon,’ I said firmly.

  Auiak stood, which meant that the chart slid to the floor. I had proof of his masculinity before I could look away. ‘Your dragon. Why else do you look for him?’

  He lumbered up and out to the pilot’s booth. Cold air whisked through the room, giving an excuse for my shiver. I reached down to retrieve the map and place it back onto the table. The edge of the paper bumped up against falcon claws. ‘Like he said, Black,’ Morey challenged me, ‘why are we looking for him?’

  ‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ I told him. ‘And he let me down. Badly. Just when I needed him most. But I don’t want him to kill himself.’

  ‘Why not?’

  I stared at the gryphon. ‘You’ve been ordained, Morey. And you’re still an Elder. You know we need to follow the example of Jesus and go after the lost sheep.’

  ‘The shepherd wanted to find the lost sheep,’ Morey pointed out. ‘He wanted the sheep back. What about you? What are you going to say when you find Raven? “Oh, you know, I don’t like to see anyone mope. How about you go back to the tent you burnt down?” I can really see that convincing him.’

  ‘What am I supposed to say?’

  ‘The truth.’ Morey walked over to me. ‘If you even know what that is.’

  ‘I won’t need to say anything,’ I said firmly. ‘He let me down, but I still came for him. That’ll be enough.’

  Morey snorted, but said nothing more.

  Coffee. I needed some caffeine. I got up from the bench, pulled on my fur coat, and went outside. Snow covered cliffs were sliding past on our right, and large icebergs rose from th
e restless waters to glower at our small ship. I carefully opened the door to speak to Auiak. ‘Can I get you something? Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Galley’s off limits.’ His dark eyes remained resolutely fixed on the seas ahead of us. ‘Drink at lunch.’

  So I returned to the lounge, wishing I’d thought to pack a flask. And a small bottle of whisky. And a book. Fortunately, Morey ignored me. He was perched on the top of the bench on the land side of the boat, staring intently at the landscape sliding past. I pulled out my iPhone. There was no signal, of course, but I opened up the word processing app. I’d arranged for a week off, but I might as well start on the sermon for the Sunday I’d be back.

  <><><><><><>

  My stomach was beginning to rumble when Auiak brought the boat to a halt. He cast a series of fishhooks over the side, and moments later a number of squirming fish were hauled on board. I glanced away as he hit each one on the head with a small club.

  ‘You’ve watched Clyde eviscerate pigeons,’ Morey commented.

  ‘That doesn’t mean I’ve enjoyed it.’

  Auiak brought in a bucket of fish and disappeared down the stairs. The sound of a kettle brought hope to my heart. Twenty minutes later, he climbed back up in human shape. A tray held three mugs of tea, all deep brown in colour. He went back down, then came up again with three plates. Two held raw fish, descaled and gutted. From the third, which he placed in front of me, steam rose from fried white flesh. Thick cut chips circled the fish. No fork or knife seemed to be forthcoming, but I’d eaten enough fish and chips at the seaside to be able to cope without utensils. I tucked in with relish. The tea was astringent without any milk, but I drank it down regardless.

  My two companions dug into their own fish. Auiak, back in bear shape, swallowed his whole. Morey picked through the meat, carefully removing the bones. He also stole several chips from my plate.

  ‘Can we do the washing up?’ I asked Auiak when we’d finished.

  ‘Galley off limits,’ he growled. Then he collected the empty plates and mugs and took them down.