The Raiden

by Shelley Cass

  Friendly paused in his carrot chopping as her cup titled and the grains spilled.

  The Queen lowered the cup to the bench.

  “The messenger just rode in. He’ll meet you in the private council chambers,” the page continued.

  Aglaia nodded. “Thank you.” She swept immediately away from her chores, with Friendly keeping pace beside her. The Queen didn’t stop until she had crossed the throne room to the door of a small council room attached to the great throne hall.

  She pushed the door open, stepping inside with Friendly behind her, but the first thing she saw was Wilmont standing over the messenger, who was slumped in a chair at the table.

  “I asked you a question,” Wilmont hissed, leaning over the exhausted messenger. “The rumours from abroad, are they true?”

  “My message is for the Queen and her Generals,” the messenger replied, then his eyes flickered to the doorway. He fumbled to put down a flagon of water and quickly tried to rise. “Majesty!” he greeted her respectfully.

  “Stay seated,” she instructed the tired man. “You have travelled far and I can see you are fatigued.”

  He sank back with relief while she turned a frowning gaze on Wilmont, who was suddenly back to oily composure.

  “Wilmont, why are you interrogating my messenger before I have spoken with him?” she asked the frilled, powdered man with anger seeping into her voice.

  Wilmont lowered his head in deference, as if ashamed. “I beg forgiveness your Majesty,” he said silkily. “I had hoped to deal with any painful news before you had to.”

  “Do not make such assumptions again, Wilmont,” Aglaia warned. “No matter the intentions, you have overstepped your authority.”

  His ringlet framed face became drawn. “Of course, my Queen.” His voice simpered, but his eyes were penetrating and she felt the already tense frame of Friendly behind her stiffen further.

  “Leave now,” she told the unlikeable official.

  “Majesty …” Wilmont began to protest, raising hands surrounded in lace cuffs.

  “Now,” she said firmly. She felt the gold band she wore on her finger digging in as her fists bunched by her sides.

  “Very well,” Wilmont replied more tersely. And he gave a slight bow that was more like a jolt before sweeping past them and out of the room from a second exit, where he had to squeeze past one of the Generals who had also just arrived.

  “Well handled,” rumbled General Sumantra from where his barrel-like frame was almost completely filling the doorway. He moved into the room, followed by the other three Generals left in the City. The archer Dren also entered with the Generals, for Aglaia had been becoming aware of the brilliant people at her disposal, and had begun to be more inclined to choose loyalty, trust and talent over titles and rank when it came to advice.

  “I’ve never really found that fellow endearing,” Dren commented to Friendly as they watched Wilmont skulk away and closed the doors to the room.

  Aglaia turned once more to the messenger. “We are glad to see you, despite Wilmont’s less than welcoming reception.” She seated herself at the head of the table and gestured for the others to sit. “Please proceed with your message.”

  He took a deep breath. “King Glaidin said that he knows this will all be very hard to believe, but that every word of it is true …”

  “So the Princes are alive,” one of the Generals uttered when the messenger had been taken to find rest.

  “And they are Questing to form alliances amongst mortals and – immortals …” Aglaia had remained outwardly calm as she had heard of her boys, but she knew that Glaidin would not have sent such news unless he was certain of its validity.

  Sumantra stabbed an eager finger into the surface of the table. “If it is true that Jenra and these so called magical races might be coaxed to join our numbers, Awyalkna just might have a chance. It is a slim chance, but better than what we all had up to an hour ago.”

  “Lucky the Princes came across the last Larnaeradee and became part of these prophecies,” Friendly said, and then blushed when his superiors shifted their gaze to him.

  “Thank the Gods they’re all right. Thank the Gods they made friends with the right people,” Aglaia nodded.

  “Or the right creatures,” Sumantra chuckled. “I always did like Fairy stories when I was a lad.”

  Dren rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  “What is it?” Sumantra asked him, a little more soberly this time.

  The archer leaned forward and looked the General and then the Queen in the eye. “I’m going to be leaving you.”

  “What do you mean?” Aglaia asked in surprise. “We need you here. You comfort the people. They see you as their hero.”

  Dren shook his head. “Both Sumantra and yourself have made this City one of the safest havens in the lands of men.”

  “You want to join Glaidin on the frontlines?” Sumantra asked gruffly.

  “I mean to fight for our country, but first I intend to search out Prince Dalin and offer my services to the Raiden, as he is now known, on his Quest. I am almost certain my four friends will want to join me,” Dren said, referring to the other Dragon fighters.

  Aglaia felt torn as she regarded the archer. “The only way I could bear to lose such a talent would be for my sons. There is really nothing more I could have hoped for you to say.”

  Chapter Fifty Six

  The mountain air tore in stinging blasts, ripping at her wings. Shredding her feathers.

  But Agrona sliced through it, fighting it gladly, releasing her anger, and her fear.

  Quicker than she could keep up with, all of the things her visions had warned her about were coming true.

  The three had escaped into the Forest, and her beloved Sorcerer King had turned from her. He had heard from Agrudek, and he had ordered her to resume her search over the accursed Forest and mountains, to look for the Awyalknians. Because he wanted the girl.

  He had turned from his Witch towards the one she’d been warned of – Kiana.

  Agrona’s fury and desperate terror swelled and bubbled inside like a diseased growth and she craved Kiana’s death with her entire being. Just as much as she craved her King. Her master.

  But now, bitten by icy wind, and driven by malicious, demented jealousy, all Agrona could do was gnash her beak and search.

  In a fit of wrath, the raven let loose a horrendous screech that cut across the wind, and she felt Griffins shuddering all throughout the mountains as they recognised the unnatural sound. Even all the way down in their mountain eyries, they cowered low and stayed hidden while Agrona swooped over the jagged peaks. But she found it easy to smell out the vile odour of one of the festering Griffin packs, and she followed the nasty vermin scent all the way to where a reeking den was.

  Then she blasted her way through a rocky wall to land before a nest of hissing, winged beasts. Knowing they were a treacherous kind, she burned their dirty minds with images of the group she was after so that they knew what power she had to hurt them, and how they had no choice but to help her.

  Agrona screeched and the Griffins scrambled back away from her. But she was satisfied. No magical shield could hide Kiana if she wandered into a Griffin’s plain sight. And with any luck they would gouge Kiana’s eyes out.

  Agrona swept back out and over the mountains. Sending out her anger and hate to fall upon every Griffin and every mortal in the mountains. She may not have been able to find them, but her magic could still seep beneath Kiana’s shield. She could still do damage indirectly.

  She would send enough malice into the mountains to make Kiana and all of her cronies cower under barrages of their own self-doubts and worst memories.

  Chapter Fifty Seven

  Noal

  Thorin was playing with a little ball of flame that Kiana had given him to keep heated as we walked. He threw it casually from hand to hand as if holding fire was a normal thing to do.

  Nothing else seemed out of place, and none of us were expect
ing Kiana to abruptly halt in her tracks – with Tane almost colliding with her back. She narrowed her eyes, glancing around the tops of the rocky walls that framed our Pass.

  “What is it?” Dalin asked her, skirting around Gideon and Lydon to come to her side.

  “There is a nasty scent on the wind,” she answered quietly, though when I sniffed the air I could smell nothing, and ahead of me Purdor shrugged apprehensively at Phobos.

  She stepped forward, lowering her packs and taking bow and arrow in hand.

  “Hands on weapons,” Thale whispered, and the soldiers all took on more ready stances.

  “We’re going to have company,” Kiana warned over her shoulder, and her wings blurred into shape at her back.

  Then out of nowhere the air above us suddenly burst with shrill, echoing screeches.

  “Griffins?” Thorin rasped, clutching his ball of fire in shock.

  We squinted upwards but the amplified sounds were disembodied and we could see nothing.

  “Kiana!” I heard Dalin call as she lifted into the air, though all we could do was clasp our ears in a desperate attempt to block the growing nightmarish noises out.

  She spiralled upward and soon vanished beyond the top of the rocks and we all listened with dread as the keening screeches rose in pitch when she was spotted.

  We heard the distinctive twang of her bow before abruptly the screeching of one of the creatures was cut off. A choking, gurgling sound replaced it, before there was a thunderous crunch as a body that had been airborne hurtled down to land somewhere on the rocks above.

  The squawking of the other invisible beast amazingly managed to increase with fierce intensity and there was the sound of rushing air under massive, swooping wing beats.

  I heard Kiana curse, but then there was a second howl of furious animalistic pain, and another horrific crunch of a plunging body impacting upon rock. Then the Pass was almost quiet again, except for the wind.

  “Gods that was quick,” Wolf whispered.

  Dalin and Tane stepped back as Kiana dropped expertly back into our midst, hauling two massive carcasses with her.

  “Gods!” Cadell cried at the sight of the corpses as Kiana heaved the weighty Griffins up by their tails for us to see.

  Dead or not, they were fearsome things to behold. Not animals or magical creatures, but a blend of the two. And in the tales of old, they had allied themselves with Deimos of Krall, delighting in war and in feasts of mortal flesh.

  “There were only two of them?” Phobos exclaimed. “It sounded like an army!”

  “That croaking is what they do to scare and stun their prey,” Kiana answered.

  “It was working!” Phrixus groaned rubbing his ears.

  “Frarshk, they reek,” Ferron complained, covering his nose.

  “Are you in one piece?” Dalin asked Kiana grimly.

  “Of course. These are some of the smaller kind, but they can do as much damage as the large ones,” Kiana replied. “I am hoping that these two scouts did not sound off long enough to let any lurking hunting parties know of us.”

  Tane coughed in shock. “Those are the small kind?”

  The two bloodied bodies were over an arm span long, and their eagle-like wings were double that in length. They each had vicious, sharply hooked beaks and talons, and the ears and matted body of a lion.

  “The bigger kind are less common,” Kiana told him, hoisting them over to a rocky wall and dropping the rancid bodies before putting her hands to the rock. “The larger breed are huge creatures that could easily carry someone as big as Vulcan back to their lair for dinner. Very strong.” The rock began to ripple around Kiana’s hands, dipping inward a little.

  Vulcan swallowed uneasily as she pushed the bodies into the space and began to seal the rock back over them. “Nice to know,” he managed as the pungent smell dissipated slightly.

  Kiana brushed her hands together in distaste. “I hope that their scent can no longer be traced and we can move off without drawing further attention.”

  “I pray never to smell such things again,” Phrixus said, revulsion on his face as Kiana picked up her packs again. “Those things were festering long before you killed them.”

  But we walked on for only a short while before Kiana held up her hand in an indication that we should halt once more.

  She craned her neck and peered sharply up through the great distance to the opening of the Pass above us again, scanning the sky.

  “Stay calm,” she said simply. “We are about to get more visitors than I can stop in time.”

  Then immediately four expansive shapes swooped with thundering wings over the lip of the cliff and plummeted down towards us. Horrific, airborne predators – two of them pounded along the rocky wall, loping easily on a vertical path, their sharp orange eyes fixed keenly on us.

  Three of them landed heavily on the road just beyond us, lashing their tails alertly as they blocked our path. The other one was clearly one of the large Griffins, and it sank in an almost graceful way down to perch on a shaft of stone that extended from the rocky wall a few yards above us.

  It was so enormous that if it had reared up it would have been twice as tall as Vulcan, and probably powerful enough to carry a small army home for dinner. But I was alarmed to see that it observed us intelligently, its bright, unfeeling eyes sweeping over our faces.

  “Are you going to speak or just sit there like a dumb animal?” Kiana asked it, her voice sounding foreign as she broke from Aolen.

  “Just seeing what all the fuss is about,” the large Griffin replied conversationally, its hissing yet human voice making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  Agrudek let out a fearful squeak.

  “Oh?” Kiana asked sceptically. “What kind of fuss?”

  A hungry gleam was in its eye as it looked her over. “You only recently killed two of our kind. We fuss because we are upset.” Its beak clicked menacingly as it spoke.

  Kiana laughed brazenly. “Please. You’re always killing each other off. What’s the fuss really about?”

  Its tail lashed behind it.

  “Griffins have been searching all through the mountains and have found not a trace of your large group until now,” it purred. “Which is curious. Seeing as we can catch the scent of food from miles away.”

  “So your sense of smell is dying,” Kiana scoffed. “Why are we being sought?”

  It clicked its beak and made a croaking sound that could have been a laugh. “A raven told us to look out for you.”

  Instantly dread nibbled at my insides, Dalin’s face paled and I heard the men shifting uneasily behind me.

  Kiana’s voice became colder, her face hard. “Is that so?”

  “I was interested in the challenge of seeking such a well hidden group. A group that has survived this altitude when even the elite Jenran guards must train to do so. And a group that has piqued Agrona’s interest.” The Griffin eyed us beadily. “And now I see I’ve found weary soldiers with a female who is more than she seems. I feel the magic around you, saving you. It’s disgusting.”

  Kiana gave her half smile and the massive Griffin ruffled its speckled feathers.

  “And what do you intend to do now that you have so bravely inspected us for yourselves?” Kiana enquired. “Flap back to the Witch? Or attack us for her?”

  Its orange eyes flashed, the elongated pupils sharpening. “We will not get ourselves killed for the Witch just yet. It is best we do not involve ourselves until we have learned what we can win and lose.”

  “How very noble,” Kiana remarked dryly.

  It shook its feathered head and crunched the rock under its feet, readying to take off once more. “It is in our nature to be anything but noble. Agrona knew there were no guarantees we would serve her when she ordered our kind to find you.”

  Kiana gazed stonily back at the horrible creature, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

  “We can see that you are not a very good food source, and it would be unw
ise to tamper with whatever power you have before we are ensured that we will win,” the Griffin leader finished.

  “So you will leave us alone on this Pass?” she asked it in a low voice.

  “For now,” it croaked, stretching wings that would have been longer in span than my own body. “But you will probably see us again. We do live for battle, and there’s a lovely war coming up that the Sorcerer has invited us to.”

  Kiana scowled. “Bloodthirsty self-serving wretch.”

  It squatted on its hind legs and lifted itself off into the air, the fetid wind from its wings sweeping around us.

  “Yes,” it uttered languidly, and then swooped back up the mountain wall and out of sight.

  Its silent cronies followed suit, now hissing and spitting at us until they disappeared, leaving our stunned silence behind them.

  “So Agrona has found us?” Thale asked, rubbing his beard with worry.

  Kiana shook her head. “No. She sent those things to find us because they are the best scavengers of the mountains. All she knew was that we would be in the mountains and would have come from the direction of the Forest.”

  “But those things will tell her where we are. They work for her,” Nikon grunted in frustration.

  “They work for none but themselves. They will only fight for Darziates because he looks the most powerful and war means food. They are treacherous. We can believe the Griffin’s statement that we are not yet in danger – not if it might mean harm to itself. It won’t be hasty in taking a risk either for or against the Witch.”

  “So we’re safe for now?” Dalin asked.

  “From Griffin attacks, because they fear my magic as a threat that might be comparable to the Witch’s. But now we know that Agrona is closing in again. We don’t have long.”

  For the rest of the day we trudged on grimly, with that very thought making us fear every shadow and making us jump at every birdcall from high above.

  Chapter Fifty Eight

  Noal

  The carriage was bumping peacefully along the winding road, and the sun was strong and bright. It sparkled on my mother’s honey blonde hair, and glinted in my father’s sandy beard.