by K J Taylor
Laela smiled uncertainly. “Maybe. Truth is, I got no-one else much. Inva hardly speaks, I don’t trust nobody in the Eyrie, an’ Oeka’s . . . not around. There’s only Iorwerth. I’m makin’ plans with him already, in case it comes to a fight. But that ain’t why I trust yeh.”
“Why, then?”
“Yer an outsider,” said Laela. “Not from here. Yeh don’t care about the Night God, or Saeddryn, or any of that, an’ nobody else’s got a stake in this except me.”
“I could be working for the Southerners,” Kullervo pointed out.
“Yeah right!” Laela laughed roughly. “The same Southerners what kept yeh in a cage an’ called yeh a freak? I know what that lot are like, an’ they don’t take kindly to our sort.” She softened. “Yeh ain’t given me no reason to think yer two-faced as well as two-shaped. Yeh said we were the same type, an’ I believe yeh. That’s why I trust yeh.”
Kullervo smiled. “All right, then. What do you want me to do?”
“We know where Saeddryn is now,” said Laela. “That’s where I’m sendin’ yeh.”
Kullervo lost his smile. “Why? I’m not going to kill her for you.”
“Relax. I’m sendin’ yeh with a message, that’s all. But it’s gotta go straight into her hands, understand? No-one else’s.”
“What message?” Kullervo clasped his hands together. “Are you really going to declare war on her? Is that the message?”
“We don’t want war,” said Laela. “Not yet. The message is this: I’m givin’ Saeddryn a chance to surrender along with Caedmon an’ Arddryn. If they come here an’ lay their weapons down, they’ll be safe. I’ll make Caedmon my heir, an’ Arddryn and Saeddryn can go live in Maijan. They’ll be left alone as long as they stay there, an’ Caedmon’ll be kept safe.”
“And if she says no?”
“That’s the next part of the message.” Laela’s eyes narrowed. “She says no, an’ they all die. Starting with Torc. She says no, an’ he’ll be executed. Painfully. In public.”
“He hasn’t done anything wrong!” Kullervo said. “You can’t do that to him, Laela.”
“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna do it. She won’t let me do it. She’ll surrender. No way she’ll let her own husband die. Even if she tries to hold out, her kids won’t let her do it. They’ll want their dad safe.”
Kullervo relaxed. “So all I have to do is deliver this message?”
“That’s right. I’ll have it all writ down. Carry it over in griffin shape an’ deliver it that way. When yeh get there, just tell ’em yeh got a message from the Queen—but keep it hidden. Don’t let nobody take it from yeh. Don’t let anyone else read it before she does.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. An’ . . . be careful, all right? I ain’t gonna lose yeh now when I’ve just got yeh back.”
“Don’t worry.” Kullervo winked. “I’m a survivor.”
“We half-breeds gotta be, ain’t we?” said Laela.
“. . . I’m a survivor . . . gotta be . . . gotta be . . . survivor . . . I’m a survivor . . .”
High up in her lair, Oeka’s beak opened and her tongue moved silently as the words echoed in her head. She hadn’t opened her eyes or used her normal hearing in some time now—at first the senses had been too much of a distraction, and by now they were gone altogether. As she sat there, still as stone, taking each howling spirit apart and using its energy to build into her own mind, she felt the structure of her brain physically changing. With no room to grow inside her skull, the part that controlled her powers found other ways to expand.
She hadn’t eaten once since her visit to the Spirit Cave. Normal griffins absorbed new energy from the food they ate, but the solid lump of pure magic lodged in her stomach made all that unnecessary. She could feel it feeding her body, replacing every scrap of energy she used and adding even more on top of that. Once, manipulating this much magic for this long would have killed her ten times over, but not any more. No, not any more . . .
Oeka gulped slightly—the only movement she had made all day. Around her, the spirits screamed in protest as they were unravelled and ruthlessly absorbed. It was becoming faster and easier all the time—so much so that by now she could begin to experiment with some of her new gifts. She reached out effortlessly with her mind and tasted the thoughts of Kullervo and Laela. Laela was easy. Sad. Angry. Desperate.
Kullervo, much harder. Secrets, Oeka scented. Hidden things. Something hiding. Fear, yes, fear. And . . . anger? She grasped at the vague feelings as they slid out of her grasp, frustrating and elusive. This mind was impossible!
She angrily shut them away and turned her full attention back to her work. More power, more energy needed to unlock this mind. She had to know.
Gradually, though, other thoughts seeped through. Laela’s emotions were worrying. She had been watching them over the last few days, and now that she began to think about them, she wondered what they could mean. How much time had passed? What could be happening out there while she was locked away?
A hiss snaked through the glowing air. Power would be no use if Laela failed while she was gone. Everything could be lost in a single stroke, then all she had put herself through would be useless.
Slowly, Oeka began to let herself relax. It took a huge effort to stop the process, and, for a few moments, she began to think she was stuck and would not be able to stop until the last of the spirits had been used. But the magic rushing around her finally slowed and drew inward at her command. She took a deep breath—deeper than should have been possible—and pulled it all inside her, back to the source in her stomach. The source absorbed it, and she could feel the icy burn in the spot where it waited. The feeling was far less powerful than it had been before, however, and she knew she must have used a good chunk of what she had collected at the Spirit Cave.
When everything felt normal again, she opened her eyes.
She was blind.
Panicking, she lurched up off the platform and toppled off the edge. She hit the floor with a thump and a jerk of pain—those senses, at least, were still there. But her eyes—her eyes were useless. She called out, but heard nothing. Was she deaf, or mute? Or both?
Oeka lay still for a time, paralysed with fear. What had she done to herself?
Little by little the enormity of it crept up on her. She had spent so long in that cloud of magic, using it to alter herself, and she had had no idea of how much it had changed—how much it had corroded away her mind. She had gained so many new powers, but she had crippled herself as well.
But that did not mean she was helpless now, surely . . . ?
Cautiously, she reached out with her mind. Tendrils of thought—her extra senses—extended to touch the room. Focusing now was far too easy, and she pushed harder, flexing new abilities that had gone unused until this moment.
It worked. Using forms of vision so sophisticated they went beyond mere sight, she built an image of the world around her. Its colours and details were wonderfully vivid and sharp, giving up information that normal eyes could never see. She saw the walls and knew where the marble had been mined and shaped, and how it had been cut and polished. The tapestries gave off odours of the hands that had woven them. Dead insects, caught in the spider-webs on the ceiling, sighed faint whispers of their lives.
Oeka concentrated on shutting out the unnecessary details and got up off the floor. Moving stiffly, seeing without eyes, she walked toward the door. Her body worked the same way it had before, at least. She wondered if she could still fly.
As she left the audience chamber, she selected a single sense and let it spread out through the Eyrie tower—searching for Laela’s mind. She found it. It tasted of frustration and the tang of fear.
Oeka went to find its owner.
Laela was in one of the unoccupied griffin nests, arguing with Senneck.
“I will not stay here
,” the blue-eyed griffin warned. “The traitor shall die at my talons.”
“Not now,” Laela said.
“You promised me that you would not make me wait.”
“I said I wouldn’t make yeh wait long. Listen. We’re still negotiatin’, right? I ain’t lettin’ this turn into war unless I have to. I’m gonna try an’ get her to settle this peaceful-like, before I go doin’ anythin’ else.”
“She will not negotiate,” Senneck said. “She is like her cursed cousin. Dominance is all she wants. Tell me where she is, and I shall kill her for you. That is my only wish.”
“If it comes to war, then so be it,” said Laela. “All I need is a day or so. Just long enough for Kullervo to carry his message an’ come back.”
“So you are sending the shape-changer?”
“Yeah.”
“I shall go with him.”
“Oh yeah, why?” Laela gave her a narrow look. “So yeh can go behind my back? Don’t think yer gonna fool me that easy, Senneck.”
“The half-shape is weak and a fool,” Senneck said evenly. “He will need my help, or he will not survive.”
“I see. An’ why do yeh care, exactly?”
“He brought me out of my exile and told me that my human’s murderer was dead. I will repay him this way.”
Laela looked puzzled—gratitude, from a griffin? “That’s sweet of yeh, but I want yeh to stay here.”
“You cannot make me obey you, human,” Senneck hissed. “You do not even have a griffin!”
“I do, an’ considerin’ yeh were on the other side in the war I shoulda had yeh put down the moment I caught sight of yeh. So if I were in yer place I’d stop bein’ so uppity.”
The threat didn’t have the effect Laela had been hoping for. Senneck rose, rasping angrily, and took an aggressive step toward her. Laela held her ground, but prepared to back away fast if anything happened—
—and then the feeling swept over them.
Senneck felt it first. She halted and crouched slightly, her tail flicking uncertainly. She huffed and shook her head, hard, as if trying to dislodge something from her feathers.
Opposite her, Laela groaned and put her hands over her ears. “What is that?”
I come.
The voice echoed in Laela’s head. “What—?”
Faint whispers filled the air, and the room grew suddenly colder as Oeka came in. She moved slowly, a little clumsily. Her eyes were open, but unfocused, glowing faintly.
“Gryphus’ talons!” Laela exclaimed, using the Southern curse without meaning to. “Oeka! What in the gods’ names—?”
Oeka’s beak opened slightly, but no sound came out. I have returned, the voice said in Laela’s head—Oeka’s voice, she realised suddenly. Only now it was slow and rich, not a griffin’s voice but . . . something else.
“Oeka!” Laela said again. “I thought—are yeh all right? What have yeh been doin’ all this time?”
The eyes stared blindly, straight ahead. I am transformed. You cannot comprehend the powers I carry.
Senneck had stayed in a defensive hunch since the smaller griffin had appeared, but now she uncoiled and came closer, sniffing. “You are Oeka?” she looked sharply at Laela. “Is this the griffin who chose you, half-breed?”
“Yeah.” Laela mumbled, not looking at Senneck.
Senneck had transferred her gaze back to Oeka. “I sensed the magic under my talons when I arrived. Now I know it was you, little one. What have you done?”
Oeka didn’t answer. Light and shadows shifted on her face, making it look as if she were leering.
“She went to some place,” Laela said. “Wouldn’t say where, but she said she got more magic somehow.”
Senneck’s hackles rose. “Fool!” she screeched at Oeka. “What have you done? You have tried to expand your magic! You sought out a place of power, I know it. Did your mother never tell you what would happen to you?”
I have taken what was there for my use, Oeka answered coolly. If you are too weak to do the same, then so be it.
“You are not strong enough for this,” said Senneck. “I can sense the energies you are trying to contain. You will not contain them for long. They will destroy you.”
No. Oeka’s head rose sharply. I have contained them. They are mine now. I have absorbed them into my mind. You cannot hide a single thought from me, Senneck. I know your past, and I know your intentions. She stretched her neck, and her beak jerked up and down in a parody of scenting. I see a day when the sky turned dark and a ring of fire burned above you. I see a white griffin fall from the sky. I see you on the ground, spreading your wings over a dead human as you say his name and know your end. I see years of despair, and a twisted creature that is neither man nor griffin. This one is large in your mind . . .
If Senneck was affected by this, she didn’t show it. “You think you are a mighty magic-user, but you are nothing but an overgrown chick. Your foolery will be the end of you, one way or the other. It does not matter if you believe me or not; this old griffin shall live to see your death.”
Oeka’s head turned blindly toward Laela. The old one will not betray you. She will go with Kullervo and do what she can to help him. She is full of hatred, but she is more patient than she seems.
Laela rubbed her face with both hands. When she uncovered it again, it had assumed a patient, stolid expression. “Fine. Whatever. I got it. Senneck, yeh can go with Kullervo if he says yes.”
The shape-shifter will do as you have asked him, was all Oeka said. He loves you.
Laela reddened. “So yeh can sense all that now? What’m I thinkin’ now, then?”
You are uncomfortable, but you accept what you see, said Oeka. You think that this is beyond you and that you can do nothing but believe what you are told.
“Yeah, well, what would a human know?” said Laela. “Are yeh gonna stay with me now, then?”
Yes. I am done with my work. For now.
“Good. Well . . . let’s go get some rest, then.”
“I will go and speak with Kullervo,” said Senneck. She stalked out of the room, very dignified. As she passed Oeka, she hissed to her. “Beware. You have already blinded yourself. What part of yourself will you lose next?”
Oeka ignored her. Laela. I am sorry that I have been away for so long. Now I am back, and I can be at your side again.
Laela drew back, trying not to look at the glassy eyes and sagging jaw. “I don’t like this, Oeka. Yeh don’t look right. An’ what if yeh kill yerself, like Senneck said?”
Oeka’s feathers fluffed out angrily. The old hen knows nothing. I am more powerful now than she can possibly imagine.
“Yeh said,” Laela growled. “Fine then. I ain’t gonna pretend I understand any of it. But yeh ain’t gonna do that again, understand? No flyin’ off, an’ no lockin’ yerself away. From now on, yeh tell me everythin’. Not a day later, not twenty years later, now. When yeh know it, yeh tell me. No more doin’ whatever yeh feel like without a word to me. I ain’t gonna stand for it, got that? I’m the Queen here, an’ it’s about time I got some soddin’ respect.”
Oeka’s eyes didn’t turn to look at her, but her head jerked in Laela’s direction. I understand. I will not keep important things from you again. There will be no need.
“There better not be. Now”—Laela softened—“do yeh need some food?”
I do not eat any more. Oeka put her head on one side. But perhaps I will try.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Laela had some meat brought up. Oeka gulped it down, awkwardly, as if she had forgotten how. She gagged a little after it had gone down.
“Are yeh all right?” Laela asked.
The small griffin lifted a talon and rubbed it down the side of her beak. The meat had no flavour . . .
“Bad cut, maybe?”
No.
Oeka’s beak opened wider, tongue arching. I cannot taste.
Laela swore. “Oeka, this ain’t right. Blinded, not able to taste—can yeh hear any more, or are yeh just hearing my mind?”
It does not matter. Those senses were crude things, useless compared to all I feel now. The world is open to me. There was ecstasy in Oeka’s mental voice. At last, I can truly see.
“If yeh say so,” said Laela.
17
Messengers
Kullervo had been provided with quarters intended for visiting griffiners. They were only modestly furnished by griffiner standards, but to him they looked wonderfully luxurious. Solid spice-wood furniture, a big feather bed, and a rug made from the hides of the same Northern-bred sheep whose long black wool had once been used to make the hated slave robes. In this form, it was thick and soft and had been placed in front of the fire-place, where there was a good fire going. Kullervo ignored the wine that had been laid out for him—he had never tried drink—and stretched out on the rug.
Delicious warmth covered him like a blanket, and he yawned and stretched. Instinctively he rolled over onto his side, curling up like a sun-bathing griffin. His bald wings twitched away from the hearth, and he yawned again and curled his tail around himself. It was an ugly thing, without fur or feathers, all pink like a rat’s. The tip flicked from side to side, catlike, tapping against his side.
Kullervo dozed and had a half-formed dream of gentle hands holding him up.
He woke up feeling happy and drowsy. Something was touching his leg. He opened his eyes a crack and saw something dark in front of his face. It was rough and pitted, curving away from him, and he looked at it for a while before he realised it was a talon.
I’ve split in half at last, he thought dopily. My griffin shape is lying next to me.
The thing touching his leg moved, and he opened his eyes properly and realised that there really was a griffin lying beside him.
Senneck.
From here, her flank was a sandy-feathered mountain looming above him.
Kullervo smiled sleepily. “Good morning.”