by L. R. W. Lee
“Before we start, can I make a request?” I ask.
That kills all conversation and everyone looks at me, but I plunge headlong into my appeal.
“After seeing what I saw today, if I’m going to help you solve these leaks, I’d like to follow the path Glass took between the border and here. You said you didn’t find any clues, but I’d like to see for myself.”
Harpoc nods. “I think that’s a good idea, Pell. Perhaps something we took for granted will stand out to you.”
“I’d also like to talk to Arimanius,” I add.
I’ll probably get shot down on this one because there’s got to be danger involved since those attacking rats… aren’t exactly happy with Secrets, but go big or go home. I’ll tell them I’m an emissary of peace from Secrets. I snicker to myself.
Harpoc gives me a long look, and I see the wheels in his head turning.
At length, he looks to Idris and says, “I’ve got a full day tomorrow, but I’d like you to take Pell to trace Glass’s incursion path, as well as see Arimanius.”
The general replies, “We’ll take a small contingent with us.”
Harpoc nods.
Well, that was easier than I expected.
Harpoc returns his focus to the group and says, “Pell, Aura, and I went to investigate another village that was burned to the ground, this afternoon. Pell, why don’t you tell them what happened.”
I give him a quick look. Me?
He winks.
Nuria chuckles across from me.
“Okay, so….” I try to summarize the highlights as succinctly as I can.
“Damn,” Nuria exclaims when I reveal that we believe it’s a chimera.
Idris’s eyes look tired as he shakes his head. But as the general, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s calculating the lengths his troops will be forced to go, to eliminate such a beast.
I continue. “After Aura left, Glass soldiers came after us.”
Harpoc takes over the telling, freeing me to eat. “I incinerated the remains of villagers where they lay, taking care not to burn any of Glass’s forest, but they sensed secret magic deployed in their territory and came to investigate.”
So, that’s what drew them. I’d wondered how they knew.
“By the way, what did you mean when you said, ‘Words travel up here,’” I ask.
“Words spoken in Glass have a nasty habit of reaching unintended ears, so unless it’s critical, I choose not to say much when there.”
“Even whispered?”
He nods.
“Oh.”
A corner of his mouth hitches, and he continues his monologue. “I decided to stick around and see what we might find out from them directly.”
Hence why, despite my panic, we didn’t just bug out. I look him up and down with new respect. He’s good.
“I don’t believe they know about the beast. They were searching for information, just like we were.”
I raise my hand to which Harpoc nods. “Won’t they figure out about the chimera?”
“No, I erased all evidence as we left.”
“You… you did?” I furrow my brow.
“Gotta watch him. He’s a wily one, he is, Pell,” Nuria says. But it’s clear from her sparkling eyes that she’s joking, and Harpoc chuckles.
“He’s thorough,” Aura says, harrumphing.
She completely misses the humor. I’m coming to love her.
Even Idris, who’s been quietly listening beside Nuria, cracks a smile at that.
“One downside,” Harpoc interjects. “I’ve no doubt the fact of my presence has already reached their emperor’s ears.”
“That is unfortunate,” the general agrees. “They’ll know it’s a matter of no small importance.”
“They noticed my ring, too. It was weird,” I add, off the cuff, fingering the back of it.
Gazes ricochet around the circle, and it’s like a bomb drops, because the silence is deafening.
“What? What’d I say?”
Harpoc puts a hand on my arm and in a gentle voice says, “Pell, you don’t want anyone to field that.”
Damn it. Thanks to secret magic, every single one of them know something I don’t, and I don’t dare probe.
It’s going to drive me crazy.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I inhale sharply when I step from Harpoc’s shadows the next morning. Not more than ten yards away stands an armored gryphon. Its tan wings are tucked along with the talons in its front feet, but its lion tail flicks as its eagle eyes stare at me, up and down.
The scent of jasmine hits me like it did that first night when Harpoc landed us here in this rooftop garden. Grumpy, my old black beater car, is still parked where it was.
“Morning, Harp, Pell,” Idris says, stopping beside me.
Like me, he’s decked out in black leathers. But the morning sun highlights the web of scars on his right cheek. It somehow makes him feel more relatable, like he knows what it’s like to feel pain, physical or other.
Idris smiles warmly when Harpoc leans in and gives me a peck on the lips.
“I look forward to hearing what you discover.” Harpoc winks at me, then turns for the hulking black doors.
“After you.” Idris extends an open palm toward his mount.
I can’t help but grimace.
“Notus won’t hurt you, you’re with me,” the general says, as we approach.
Notus. The name rings a bell. He was one of the Greek gods of seasonal winds. Specifically, he was the south wind and bringer of the nasty storms of late summer and autumn, if I remember right. It’s quite a name for quite a brute—I have every reason to believe he lives up to it.
There’s a leather saddle just behind where the white feathers of Notus’s head stop and his wings start. It’s affixed to the underside of either wing, and Idris hoists me up, then lands behind me. It’s mighty close with his legs cradling my thighs, but there’s nothing to be done.
Idris holds the reigns in one hand and puts his arm around my waist, drawing me close with the other.
“Fly, Notus.” The general’s voice is commanding, and we lift off.
Notus is nowhere as smooth as Harpoc in the takeoff department, just saying. But Idris’s arm helps steady me as the gryphon’s wings beat the air, gaining lift. I can’t stop from fisting white feathers at the back of the animal’s neck. I hope I don’t hurt him, but it’s just too bumpy otherwise.
I’m glad my leathers are fur lined with the frigid air that soon nips at me the higher we climb. Too bad Idris doesn’t have magic. He can’t conjure one of those wind shields like Harpoc.
The city of Mense flows by below, and while there’s signs of rebuilding going on, we soon reach an area it looks like those rats didn’t touch because trellises of yellow, and orange, and purple, and magenta roses stretch down one street after another, covering walkways between buildings. I bet the area smells amazing close up.
We clear the outskirts of the city and continue on, over a large meadow with tall grasses that sway in the wind and a few stray pine trees, until a forest of conifers rises from the horizon. Idris directs Notus down, and we land.
But before dismounting, the general points at the forest maybe twenty yards straight ahead. “That’s where we stopped Glass, just at the edge.”
“Crap, you weren’t kidding when you said they made it nearly to the castle.”
Idris frowns, as if I’ve personally insulted him.
“How did they get this far undetected?”
“That is one of the mysteries we wish to uncover.” The general dismounts, then helps me down.
I really want to help; it’s one of the reasons I came. I hope my Spidey sleuthing senses can pick up on a clue or two.
“I take it they’ve never done anything like this before?”
Idris gives me a quick look. “Not that we know of.”
So maybe Glass has done it before, but it went undetected.
Great, just great.
/> My eyes sweep the barren ground as I follow Idris to the edge of the treeline where he stops.
My stomach tenses as I take in the signs of what was clearly a scuffle—the stems of groundcover plants are broken even days after the altercation and several patches of brown mark the ground.
“What happened to the Glass soldiers?”
“They killed themselves rather than being taken into custody and questioned.”
No wonder Glass’s Leader Dude snarled when Harpoc said they didn’t retreat to their side of the border; Glass soldiers killed themselves in Secrets.
I shake my head. “It had to be some important mission to give their lives for it.”
Idris draws a hand to the back of his neck and sighs, “Yes.”
Yes. Harpoc believes Glass’s incursion has something to do with the leaks starting. If we can’t stop the leaks and word spreads, the Empire of Secrets could fall. That’s a mighty big, hairy, audacious mission if you’re from Glass.
An empty feeling fills the pit of my stomach. Harpoc’s theory has merit.
“Shall we?” Idris says, heading into the dim and quiet of the forest. “We’ll retrace Glass’s path.”
The general stops a dozen times to point out one thing or another that Aura and his troops discovered—a boot scuff mark here, a disturbance in the pine needles there—but nothing significant other than to indicate Glass came this way.
We continue, probably a good three miles through this pine forest, and I’m starting to wonder how far it extends when I spot daylight not far ahead. And sure enough, we emerge into the sunlight, but the land drops off in a sheer cliff just a dozen feet away. All I see are fluffy clouds above and two floating islands a ways away.
“They landed here, six soldiers.” Idris strides to the edge and points.
The dirt at the edge of the cliff bears a jumble of boot tracks. “It looks like they climbed up and over the edge.” I furrow my brow.
“Glass doesn’t use magic. In fact, they consider secret magic something perverted and a distortion of what nature intended.” His expression is neutral.
I toss my port red hair over a shoulder as I give him a long look. “Really? Then how do they travel?”
“The old fashioned way, flying ships.”
I tilt my head. But of course there are. There’s floating islands, why the heck not flying ships, too?
I look out across the expanse between here and those two floating islands and squint to see beyond. “How many islands between here and Glass’s northern border?”
“Six, of varying sizes.”
“So you’re saying Glass sailed south, between Secret’s islands undetected?”
“We believe they came from the east, but in essence, yes. Only two of the four islands between the eastern perimeter and here are heavily populated, but there’s a military outpost on each, for exactly this reason.”
I don’t know the condition of his outposts, but I can’t imagine they’re sloppy, not judging by the general.
“So somehow they avoided detection by six different outposts.” I run a hand over the leathers covering my arm. “Those seem like long odds.”
Idris exhales heavily. “Indeed they do.”
“Why couldn’t they sail directly south?” I’ve never seen a map of the place, so who knows?
“There are no Glass ports to launch from along the northern border.”
“Oh.” So much for adding anything to what they already know. We’re no closer to connecting Glass to the leaked secrets than we were.
It was worth a try, Pell.
But I wanted to make a difference.
“Shall we pay Arimanius a visit then?” Idris asks.
“Yes, let’s find out how the rats knew about the leak.”
Idris smiles, gray eyes lighting up. While he’s not bouncing from foot to foot, for a reserved military dude, he looks more excited about this possibility than showing some noob around.
“This is your mission, you’ll lead it.” Idris informs me. “My troops and I will be there to support you and make sure you return unharmed.” He gives me a questioning look.
He’s giving me an out. Maybe he’s testing me to see what mettle I’m made of, who knows, but I’m not biting. We need to stop these leaks. Period. There’s too much at stake.
“I understand. I’ll lead.”
He gives a crisp nod, like maybe I just passed some test.
He doesn’t seem the type to play games, but if that’s what that was, I’m not playing.
He puts two fingers to his mouth and gives a shrill whistle. A second later, I hear a loud squawk and Notus lands on the narrow strip of land.
As we lift off, Idris says, “We need to meet up with the rest of our contingent before we head to the Empire of Rats.”
Sounds like a plan to me. I’ve no desire to go into enemy territory unprepared.
We fly back to the city, and my eyes bug out when we land in what looks like a large stable yard, but… it’s for gryphons.
It’s busy with a mix of male and female soldiers dressed in leathers, as well as grooms, judging by their worn clothing, attending to one task or another—one groom saddles a gryphon for a waiting soldier. Another brushes the furry lion backend of a creature—the thing purrs at the attention. Another trims a gryphon’s front talons—or maybe she’s sharpening them. All I know is I’d hate to be on the receiving end.
Idris directs Notus to the left, away from all the activity, toward six armored gryphons.
“Morning, General,” twelve warriors say as they all salute.
Idris returns the gesture as he stops our mount before the warriors. Half wear leathers like mine with silver rose ornamentation on the shoulder. The other half are like Idris’s, which are basically mine, but theirs also have a silver pin of a gryphon’s wings.
“We’re just missing Callie,” one of the warriors says, dangling a helmet from his left hand. “She’ll be here in a minute.”
Helmets. I bite my lip. We’re going into enemy territory.
You sure you want to do this, Pell? I hear worry in my inner minion’s voice.
I want to be part of solving the problem even if it means facing danger.
Surely Harpoc would have said “no,” if he feared for my life. Right?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I feel a mix of awe and fear as we wait on the soldier.
Until a few days ago, I thought gryphons were made up, existing only in someone’s active imagination. So to be this close to so many of them…
Idris says into my ear, “We’ll be tripskipping to Arimanius’s empire.”
I can only nod, because I’ve no idea what’s normal, but I take the opportunity to slide my ring off and place it deep in a pocket of my leathers, because barfing is all I need.
A helmeted female carrying two other helmets heads toward us—her black leathers have a rose insignia, but no wings on the shoulder. She stops beside Notus’s head and after handing the two coverings that resemble the head of a gryphon, up to me, she salutes the general.
I get my own helmet. Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any calmer.
Are you sure, Pell? My inner minion’s starting to freak.
I’ve faced a sphinx and a harpy, I remind myself.
If not for Harpoc—
Enough. I’m doing this.
My inner voice harrumphs but finally quiets.
It’s clear which helmet belongs to Idris with additional silver ornamentation, and I pass it back to him, then slip on my own—two black metal wings fly up from the main helmet, which extends all the way down to cover the back of my neck. Two long sides shield my cheeks. The beak of the gryphon dips low enough to cover my nose but is narrow enough at the point to not obstruct my vision.
It reminds me of a tricked out football helmet.
The six riders mount up, and the warriors without wing emblems stand beside each gryphon’s head, then reach up and grab the bridle.
“Let’s move ou
t,” the general says, motioning with a gloved hand.
There’s no backing out now.
Idris pulls me close and darkness swallows us an instant later.
I yip as we drop suddenly and grab Notus’s soft, white neck feathers. I sure hope he doesn’t try to exact revenge.
Callie’s shadows fall away and she disappears, I’ve no idea where, but Idris doesn’t react so I’ll assume that’s normal.
Notus extends his wings and catches the air, and we, along with the others, in formation, soar over what looks like a dump. Steam rises over the towering, colorful mounds, creating a haze for miles.
A rank stench catches us, and I about gag.
Definitely a dump.
I hate to breathe through my mouth—who knows what’s in the rancid air—but I’ll barf if I have to keep smelling it.
You wanted to do this, Pell. My inner minion’s gloating; I hear it in her tone.
Shush.
I squint through the haze and make out overlarge white as well as brown furry rodents with long tails running around the mounded trash. A shiver runs down my spine. This is definitely where the warrior rats came from.
It’s not long before Idris is guiding us down toward a shiny castle rising from the mountains of trash. But the closer we get, it’s clear it’s not made of stone like every other castle I’ve ever seen.
“Made completely out of repurposed trash,” Idris says in my ear.
My mouth drops open, sending me into a coughing fit. But once I regain my breath, I take in the enormous, recycled edifice. Silver turrets, separated by crenels, decorate the top of the walls. Stained glass windows line the upper stories. Several wrought iron balconies jut out. It’s unbelievable that this is all made from refuse.
Arimanius is a Da Vinci of debris.
We land before a long bridge that spans a wide, water-filled moat surrounding the mammoth structure. It ends in a drawbridge.
Callie and the other warriors step from their shadows beside their mounts. I’ve no idea where they went between getting us to the empire and this minute, so, this too, must be normal.
No surprise, innumerable large rats, brandishing swords, surround us an instant later.