Windsworn: Gryphon Riders Book One (Gryphon Riders Trilogy 1)

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Windsworn: Gryphon Riders Book One (Gryphon Riders Trilogy 1) Page 1

by Derek Alan Siddoway




  Contents

  Legal

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  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Ninteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Want to know what happened before Windsworn?

  Also by the author

  Author Bio: Derek Alan Siddoway

  Legal

  Windsworn: Gryphon Riders Trilogy Book One

  Copyright © 2017

  ♠ Derek Alan Siddoway ♠

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the Derek Alan Siddoway. Thank you for respecting the author's hard work.

  Permissions can be obtained through [email protected]

  All characters, places and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real places, events, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  First Edition, Ebook

  Published July 2017 by Derek Alan Siddoway

  Editor: Jason Whited

  Description

  An unlikely young hero. An incredible destiny.

  Eva has never swung a sword. She’s never flown through the open sky on a gryphon or dreamed of being a hero. She’s content with a quiet life — two feet firmly on the ground, working in her foster-father’s forge. But that’s all about to change.

  When Eva discovers a young thief hiding in her woodshed with a stolen gryphon egg, the shy, timid girl is forced to leave everything she’s ever known to become Windsworn — elite warriors who ride fierce gryphons into battle. As she struggles to learn the ways of the Windsworn, Eva finds herself caught in a plot to destroy the gryphon riders and plunge the kingdom into war, a plot that somehow involves her deceased parents.

  In the face of growing danger, can Eva conquer her fears and unravel the secrets of her past in time to save the Windsworn?

  Fans of Eragon, Harry Potter and the Dragonriders of Pern will love this fast-paced coming of age fantasy, set in a world of majestic gryphons and ancient magic.

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  Chapter One

  Soot heard the thrum of gryphon’s wings and the scrape of talons on cobblestone long before the knock ever reached the door. Even so, he hesitated to rise from his chair by the fire, heaving a sigh as he did so.

  The smith’s singed and callused hand paused when he reached for the door latch. He’d half made up his mind to pretend like he hadn’t heard anything when another knock came.

  “Wayland! I know you’re in there.”

  “Who’s there?” Soot asked in a gruff voice — even though he knew exactly who it was.

  “It’s Andor.”

  The smith sighed again and lifted the latch. Pulling the door open, Soot could see by the small fire crackling in the hearth a tall man standing on the threshold, dressed in leathers and royal blue. Shoulder-length blond hair framed a weatherbeaten and worried face, aged beyond its twenty-something years. When he saw Soot, the visitor’s piercing eyes softened, and his stern expression broke into a grin.

  “By the Tempest, it’s good to see you again, old friend!” the man said, gripping the smith’s shoulder. He looked past Soot, taking in the small room and its meager contents.

  “So, this is where you ran off to,” Andor said in a low voice, half talking to himself. He glanced back at Soot, answering his friend’s unspoken question. “It wasn’t hard to find you, Wayland. What other forge in the city has a golem working in it?”

  Soot grunted and shrugged his burly shoulders. “It’s the middle of the stormin’ night, Andor. What’re you doing here?”

  “You didn’t have to leave,” Andor said, ignoring his friend’s question.

  Before either man could speak again, a baby’s cry filled the darkness in the street. In the flickering torchlight, Soot made out a pale gray gryphon, standing stock-still in the middle of the yard.

  While Andor walked around the gryphon’s side toward the sound of crying, Soot approached the creature’s head.

  “Hello, Stormwind,” he said, running a hand down the gryphon’s beak. The gryphon gave a small scree in recognition and leaned into the smith’s touch.

  A few moments later, Andor appeared holding the wailing bundle. Soot looked down at the child, a frown creasing his brow, and jerked his head toward the cottage. Inside, Andor sat down in one of the chairs by the hearth, rocking the infant until it fell silent once more.

  “Thank the winds,” he said. “I’m not cut out for this parenting business — I guess I should count myself lucky she slept that long.”

  Soot sat down across from the pair, never taking his eyes off the swaddled baby.

  “Is that?”

  Andor nodded.

  The smith’s throat bunched into a knot. “Marien?”

  “Didn’t make it,” Andor said, voice breaking. Tears welled in his eyes.

  Soot ran his good hand over his bald head and covered his face. After a moment, he cleared his throat and looked up at his old friend again with tears of his own.

  “Adelar won’t speak with anyone,” Andor continued. “He shut himself in his room and ordered her out of the citadel as soon as he found out Marien died.”

  Soot rose for the door, hand tightened into a fist. “Enough is enough! I’ll pound some sense into him if it’s —”

  Andor raised a hand to quiet his friend. “Soot, please. You’ll wake her. He’s beyond reason. I…I’m not leaving her with some strangers. He’ll change his mind someday, realize what a thunderstruck fool he’s been. But for now, she can’t stay.”

  Soot’s face changed from outrage to horror as it dawned on him what his friend was asking. “Oh no! I can’t, Andor, I don’t know the first thing about babies. You take care of her!”

  “The Gyr is no place for an infant,” Andor said. “Please, Soot, just for a little while. I’m certain —”

  “If anyone, her father should be the one to raise her!”

  Andor shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

  Soot raised the capped stump where his right hand should have been. “You know how hard it is to be a one-handed smith? Even with Seppo, it’s all I can do to keep up, let alone try and raise a child. I’ve given enough to your stormin
’ family and the crown.”

  Without realizing it, Soot towered over Andor, chest heaving. His friend looked up from his chair, still holding the baby. When he spoke, it wasn’t in the barking tone he used to command his riders; it came out so soft Soot almost didn’t hear it.

  “I wouldn’t ask you to do this for Adelar. This is for Marien.”

  Only the snap of coals in the fire broke the stillness. Soot’s shoulders drooped, and he nodded. Before the smith could change his mind, Andor placed the bundled child in his friend’s thick arms. Soot stared at the sleeping baby, captivated as Andor reached into the pocket of his royal-blue uniform. The gryphon rider pulled out a white stone set in silver on a matching chain.

  “Marien wanted her to have it,” Andor said. “She gave it to me almost a week ago — almost…like she knew.”

  Soot stared at the white stone as it spun on the chain twinkling lights of sky blue, blue and gold. He nodded to Andor to lay it on the table, still holding the swaddled infant in awkward arms.

  “I’ll see to it you’re sent whatever you need,” Andor said, stopping at the door. “But Soot — she can’t know. Not anything. Understood?”

  The smith replied with a grunt, still trying to figure out how the night had ended with him holding a newborn. Andor reached for the door latch.

  “And Soot…thank you. You don’t know what this means.”

  “Wait,” Soot said as Andor stepped into the street where his gryphon waited, clawing at the cobblestones. “What’s her name?”

  Andor paused and stared up at the night sky. “Evelyn. Marien named her Evelyn.”

  Chapter Two

  “Eva.”

  “Eva.”

  “Evelyn!”

  The girl started at Soot’s shout, almost knocking her bowl of porridge off the table. Shaking his head, the smith tried again

  “You paying attention now?”

  Eva nodded, her long blonde hair sliding across her face with the motion. “Yes. Yes — sorry! Just…thinking.”

  “How about you think about what you need to pick up at the market?” Soot asked. “And no dallying, girl! Now that summer’s on, we’ve got plenty of work to do — there’s that big order of horseshoes from Hawk’s Ridge due by the end of the week.”

  Eva ran over the list of items again in her head, mouthing each one to help her remember better. “Can I take Seppo to help carry things?”

  Soot scratched his three-day growth of beard and frowned. “I suppose…but I’ll need him back soon to work the smelter, so be quick about it.”

  Excited at the prospect of a morning at the market, Eva scooped up the last of her breakfast and shot out the door. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it!”

  As the door continued to swing on well-oiled hinges, Soot shook his head.

  Outside, the morning sunlight flashed bright on the white stone buildings of Gryfonesse, promising an early arrival of summer. Eva paused to stretch and smile in the yard situated between the small cottage and the smithy. The sky above shone blue, empty of clouds and gryphons alike. Below, the city stirred with the sounds of people and songbirds calling out their good mornings, along with the apprentices and journeymen beginning their day’s work in the Craftsman District.

  Eva paused to scatter some corn to the chickens squawking and scurrying after her then ducked into the forge, already hot from the never-ending fires she helped feed.

  “Seppo! Where are you? We’re going to the market this morning and —”

  She stopped short as a giant suit of armor clanked toward her from the back of the smithy. Seppo’s rounded iron head skimmed the ceiling of the forge as he crossed the shop to deposit a stack of firewood that Eva couldn’t have carried in five trips. Clapping his iron hands together to free a piece of bark wedged in a joint, the golem turned to Eva.

  “Good morning, Mistress Evelyn,” Seppo said in a tinny, proper voice. “I hope you are well. While you and Master Wayland slept, I took the liberty to chop more wood and fire the smelter.”

  Eva shook her head in awe of the golem’s prowess. Although even Soot wasn’t sure what powered him, Seppo didn’t need to eat or sleep, so he often got bored in the middle of the night and began work on the next day’s projects. Soot and Eva didn’t mind most of the time, but every once in a while the golem made such a clatter with hammer and anvil that he woke everyone on the street. Eva supposed if all she needed to sustain her was a little oil now and then, she’d probably go out of her mind sitting still all night, too.

  Although Soot was known through the capital — and all of Rhylance — for his skill as a smith, they would never have been able to handle to volume of work they did without Seppo. No matter how much Soot grumbled and cursed the golem, he worked harder, faster, and more efficient than a whole group of apprentices and journeymen could.

  Even so, Soot kept Eva plenty busy. Skinny girl of seventeen years that she was, Eva could pump the bellows, shovel slag, and swing a hammer for just as long and with as much skill as any boy.

  “Thanks, Seppo,” Eva said. “Ready to go?”

  “I would be delighted to accompany you, Mistress Evelyn.”

  They returned to the well in the yard just as Soot came stomping out of the cottage. He took one look at Eva and then up at Seppo and shook his head. “You do her chores for her again?”

  “I am here to serve, Master Wayland.” Seppo answered in the same level tone he always had. “I became restless during the night and —”

  Soot cut him off with a wave of his stump like he did every time the golem started, as the smith put it “rambling on like a rock in a tin cup.”

  “How many times I have to tell you to stop spoiling that girl?” Soot grumbled, walking off toward the forge.

  Eva looked up at Seppo and grinned. Soot talked like he was all slag and sharp edges, but on the inside she knew the smith was soft as a bar of iron right out of the fire. He worked Eva to exhaustion many a night but still made time to bring her a new book or one of Gryfonesse’s famous yellow roses every now and then from the market.

  Together, Eva and Seppo made their way down the lane to the marketplace a short walk away. On their way, they passed several craftsmen who greeted them as they passed by on business of their own. Eva shook her head as Seppo stopped in the middle of the street to raise a hand at a passing butterfly. It alighted on the back of his iron hand for a moment, and Eva swore she heard a small giggle escape the big suit of armor before the butterfly fluttered away. Behind them, a barrel maker pulled up his pony and cart and cleared his throat, eager to continue on his way. “Come on, Seppo,” Eva said, wrapping her hand around one of the golem’s giant fingers to give it a gentle tug.

  As they drew nearer to the market, the streets grew more crowded as they spread into wide boulevards. Eva led the way with Seppo clanking behind her. Although most of the citizens had seen or at least heard of Soot’s golem and knew Seppo was harmless, they still cleared the way when the giant suit of armor came into sight. Eva was grateful she didn’t have to push and squeeze her way through the morning traffic, but it always felt a bit disconcerting when the crowd parted and stared as they walked past. Embarrassed, she solved the awkward exchanges by focusing on the ground just in front of her feet. She only looked up when the street opened up into the market circle, a giant ring of shops, stalls, and wagons that formed the heart of Gryfonesse.

  Here, a person could find almost anything from all across western Altaris — salted and smoked fish from Pandion’s coast, melons and pottery out of the summerlands of Maizoro to the north, furs and hides from the south and much, much more. At one time or another during the year, trade of every sort passed through Gryfonesse, Rhylance’s capital and the largest city in western Altaris. Soot had his own stall spot for the big fall and spring festivals, but a long list of needs from dozens of patrons made it unnecessary to set up their excess wares in the weekly market. Although Eva enjoyed their short trips, the thought of spending all day in the crowds and noise made he
r head spin and stomach churn.

  A quick trip to their regular stops yielded fresh bread, milk and cheese, and some early season squash and corn from Maizoro. With Seppo carrying the morning’s haul, Eva worked up the nerve to fight through the crowds to one last stop. When she neared their final destination for the morning, a gray-haired woman looked up and smiled at the girl and golem.

  “Good morning, Eva,” the woman said. She sat on the steps of a fountain, the centerpiece of which was a large, rearing gryphon, wings spread and front talons stretched wide. A small basket with a scattering of coins was in her lap, and her right arm and hand were wrapped in dirty rags. “I was wondering if I’d see you around today.”

  “Good morning, Rose,” Eva said, just loud enough to be heard over the bustling patrons and shouting merchants hawking their wares. She reached up into one of the baskets Seppo carried and handed the woman a loaf of bread. “Got a story for me today?”

  The woman shifted her ragged, stained shawl up over her shoulders and smiled, revealing a scattering of missing teeth in her wide grin. “Got something better than a story today,” she said. “Did you hear —”

  A series of shouts made Eva spin around. From her vantage point atop the fountain, she saw several guards pushing their way through the market, pausing now and then to question random citizens before moving on. Looking around, Eva saw several more groups of soldiers and realized by their gold-trimmed cloaks and winged helmets they were from the palace.

  “What’s going on?” Eva asked.

  “You ain’t heard?” Rose said. She let out a dry cackle and shook her matted head. “Some thief stole a gryphon egg from the Gyr last night!”

  It took a long moment for Rose’s words to sink in as Eva’s head rose to look at the giant, barren mountain towering over the city to the east. As she looked, Eva noticed several groups of what looked to be birds way off in the distance, flying away from the mountain. Although they seemed no larger than eagles at the distance, Eva knew they were gryphons, likely carrying riders on a search for the missing egg — if what Rose said was true.

 

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