CHAPTER 13
“To know what is to come, you must first know what has been.”
Alaina pulled a small, black velvet drawstring sack out from within the folds of her feathered gown. Gabe, Kendall, and I were seated around the campfire while she stood. “That story takes us to the green, sprawling hills of Ireland in the 17th century—the bloodiest time in the history of Ireland. Civil wars tore the country apart and ended lives. An evil ex-soldier by the name of Barnabus chose to take advantage of the chaotic carnage by assembling his own army to challenge the governing power, the English Commonwealth. He was able to recruit roughly two dozen men, yet that was nowhere near enough to accomplish their goal.”
She poured what looked like silver sand onto her palm and sprinkled it into the campfire in small, circular motions. The flames rose up in response, licking high up into the night sky. “They targeted small, insignificant villages, stormed tiny settlements, and demanded that the males of all ages join their army. When any man refused, he was forced to watch as his family was brutally killed. If men dared band together in refusal, their entire village was torched and the remaining residents slaughtered. Whispers of these massacres reached my own village.” At the mention of her village, the silhouette of it appeared within the red and orange flames. Gabe, Kendall, and I leaned in and stared in astonishment at the small, plank-board-sided homes that could clearly be seen against the backdrop of the fire. “At word of the potential threat, our men made makeshift stands on the four corners of our town and kept watch at all hours. What happened next you need to see for yourself.”
A loud trump blast came from the scene within the flames. Men, women, and children, all clad in sleepwear, scrambled out of the tiny homes.
“Cool! It’s like a little movie,” Kendall chirped.
I elbowed her in the ribs. “Shhh. Is that you?” I pointed to an auburn-haired girl of about fourteen that had stepped out from the most modest of the homes.
“It is,” Alaina said sadly. The Alaina from the fire movie held a beautiful, cherub-faced boy of no more than six in her arms. A raven-haired woman stepped up behind her and hurried them both out of the house. “That is my brother and my mother.”
Before I could ask what happened to them, a fully dressed man with a sheathed sword slung beneath his big ole Santa belly began to hush the townsfolk. He had a mass of curly, auburn hair that blended right into his bushy beard.
When the people quieted, he spoke in a thick Irish brogue. “There are roughly two hundred soldiers on horseback headed straight for us. They’re armed with broad swords, axes, and arrows. The few weapons we have will be no match against their armor.”
An old, grey-haired woman with a long braid down her back and a face that could scare children squeezed her way through the crowd. “What do we do? Can we run?”
“We’ll ne’er get out of the gorge in time,” the man beside her answered, shaking his head. “They have us cornered.”
“Adara! Cadence!” The curly-haired man boomed. “Hitch four horses up to the wagon in my barn. Now! Move!”
Two young women in long, flowing nightgowns darted off. The man then walked over to young Alaina, squeezed her shoulder, and stroked the cheek of her brother.
Alaina answered the unspoken question. “My father.”
His strong voice quaked as he laid out his plan. “We will load the children into the wagon and hold off the army so they can escape.”
With somber resolve the villagers hitched up the horses and began their tearful goodbyes. Heartbroken parents loaded their sobbing and confused children into the wagon, unsure if they would ever see them again. The last child to be loaded was Alaina’s own brother.
Tears streamed down his pink cheeks as he called out for his mama. His small hands clung to her clothing. Alaina had to pry his hands free and then held her mother tightly to prevent her from scooping him out of the wagon. Her mother collapsed on the ground wailing as the wagon pulled away.
A lone tear streaked down our Alaina’s face. “That was the last time I saw my brother. Or any of the children for that matter.”
“This is so awful!” Keni hiccupped and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “It’s worse than watching Titanic!”
The village men grabbed their swords and positioned themselves at the edge of town as the echo of thundering hoofbeats drew near. The women clung to each other trembling and openly praying. Together they prayed for their loved ones to be spared. For the children to reach safety. For mercy. For…a miracle.
A flurry of chaotic activity erupted within the village. Fabric ripped. Women shrieked. A burst of feathers. Men crumbling to the ground. The roar of a lion, followed by another, and another.
“Uh…what the heck just happened?” Gabe asked.
“Just watch.” Alaina’s eyes were intently fixed on the scene.
The incoming horde of soldiers trembled in their metal boots when they saw what awaited them within the village—a pride of lions and a flock of winged women. In spite of their fear, the soldiers attacked. Arrows sliced through the air. One hit an ivory wing and bounced right off.
“That’s the moment we figured out our feathers were impenetrable,” Alaina commented. “We became the lions’ shields.”
Lions sprang at the soldiers, their monstrous paws knocking them from their horses. An elaborately armored soldier shouted to burn the village. He had to be Barnabus. Torches were cast onto the rooftops, setting the homes ablaze. Busy battling the army, the villagers could do nothing to prevent it. The younger Alaina snatched a soldier right off his horse, flew him high off the ground, and dropped him.
I looked up at Alaina. “Nice move.”
She lived through the battle, but still couldn’t tear her eyes off of it. “He did not die. At least not that day or by my hands.”
Even with their new gifts, the villagers were losing ground. Dozens of soldiers would team up against one lion. They closed in on them in tight circles and blocked any protection the feathered women could offer. I squeezed my eyes shut as one of the mighty cats howled in pain, then crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap.
A deafening screech pierced through the night. My eyes snapped open. After a brief moment of panic, I realized the sound came from within the flames. Soldiers and villagers alike froze as a menacing-looking creature flew over the burning town and landed in the heart of the battle. His enormous wings arced up behind him as he glared down his beak at the soldiers. That pull I felt when I touched the statue in the garage returned with a vengeance. I leaned closer to the flames. I wanted to know every nuance and color change of his feathers, the consistency of his fur, the shade of his eyes, whether his scent was feline or avian, everything. However, unless I wanted to stick my head directly into the fire, these precise details would elude me.
Beside me, Keni crinkled her nose. “What the heck is that thing?”
Alaina opened her mouth to answer, but I beat her to it. “That’s the Gryphon. The Protector of the Divine.”
“He’s a badass.” I had to agree with Gabe as the Gryphon tossed soldiers around like ragdolls.
He towered over the soldiers’ horses. As he stalked toward them the spooked equine reared up and bolted, whether their riders stayed on or not. With his help the villagers finally began to overpower the army. Some of the once indentured soldiers took advantage of a weaker Barnabus and turned on their captors with unexpected vigor.
Either a steel or feathered shield blocked every blow. The swipe of a flesh-shredding claw or the swing of a blade matched every attack. Some soldiers lost their lives while others surrendered and ran. When it became obvious he couldn’t win, Barnabus ordered his troops to fall back. They gratefully obliged.
Barnabus himself hesitated before making his escape. He raised one armor clad arm in the air and pointed at the Gryphon. “This isn’t over beast!” He then yanked his horse’s head around and galloped off.
Except for the snaps and hisses of the burning homes, there was silence. All the villagers tu
rned to the Gryphon. He stared off after Barnabus long after the evil man vanished into the night. Sorrow clouded his eyes. From the cluster of people, a young girl stepped forward. She looked about the same age as Kendall. Her slender frame seemed dwarfed by her long, mahogany locks and the new feathered appendages that fanned out behind her as she walked. The other villagers gaped at her courage as she approached the Gryphon and laid her delicate hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you for your aid. And for the gifts you bestowed on us.” With a slight nod, she motioned to her wings. The Gryphon craned his head around to see her. She flinched, but didn’t shy away. “May I ask what is troubling you in the wake of our victory?”
With a deep, resonate voice, the villagers’ champion spoke. “I can feel the obsession that has formed in that man at the discovery of me. He will hunt me down. Of that, I am sure. A war will follow if I am to fulfill my destiny and protect my charges.”
“And if he captures you?”
The Gryphon’s feathers ruffled, then smoothed. “If the receptacles of divinity that I guard fall into his hands, the balance of good and evil would tip in favor of darkness.”
She couldn’t let him fight alone! Not after how he saved them!
As if my thoughts willed her into action, a look of steely determination overcame her dainty features. “You didn’t let us stand alone, and I will not let you.”
The Gryphon snapped his beak and shook his enormous head. “No. This war will rage on long after your mortal life has ended. I have foreseen it.”
“Then my heirs shall take up the cause as well!” The girl lifted her soot-covered nightgown enough to allow herself the movement needed to go down on one knee. She stretched her wings out behind her and pressed her fist over her heart. “It is my pledge to you that the O’Garren family will join you in this crusade. My people will be your warriors until we find victory or death.”
Goosebumps sprang up on my arms. I knew the name O’Garren. I had uncovered it during a genealogy project at school. A few generations later it had been changed to Garrett.
“The human spirit never ceases to amaze me. You, lass, are a shining example of that.” The Gryphon swung his impressive frame around to face her full on. “My acceptance comes with strict conditions. The first is that I will only call upon your family if all other choices are exhausted. The next—I will choose only three. One will be the Protector, to shield against danger. One will be the Guardian, to fight with raw determination. The third will be my Conduit, the chosen mortal I will channel my powers through. Together they will be warriors on Earth.”
The girl’s hair fell in a curtain around her as she bowed her head in agreement.
The scene faded away, and the fire extinguished itself down to embers.
The Conduit Page 15