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WHEN AIRDELLA WOKE THE next morning, Aaron was nowhere to be seen. She did not know whether to be more angry or worried. Here was another person gone missing that she would have to search for. She scrambled to her feet, shaking leaves and dirt out of her clothes and hair.
Aaron’s pack was still on the other side of the fire, and she relaxed a little. Clearly, he intended to return at some point. Airdella’s bow was also missing, which meant he was probably out searching for food. Which she had to admit she appreciated.
Well, there was no point wandering around to look for him. She would only scare away the game he was hunting or get lost. She could stand to wait for a little bit. For once, she was glad to sit and not move, a feeling which lasted about five minutes.
As she really began to reflect on all that had happened over the last few days, she once again began to get antsy. She needed to find Amy and save her from that beast – if she was still alive. But Airdella could not afford to let herself assume otherwise. They both needed to find Walter. Given the sounds she had heard yesterday, he might have been attacked. Unfortunately, she had no idea where to start with finding either of her sibilings. She could just continue north until she reached this waterfall, but without Walter’s map, she had no idea where she should be looking.
All these thoughts were instantly banished from her mind by a bone chilling scream. A scream she recognized as Amy’s. Without any hesitation, she ran in the direction of the scream, focused on a single thought. This might be her only chance to save Amy.
––––––––
Amy had spent the beginning of her morning having a cheerful conversation with Uncle while feasting over a delightful breakfast of peaches that one of the griffins had managed to procure for her.
“And how did you sleep, my dear?” he asked her.
“Very well. Such a splendid nest. But I do have a question if you don’t mind me asking,” she added.
“Well, that would depend on the question,” Uncle responded. “If it’s about my white beak...”
Amy giggled. “No, not that. I just couldn’t help but notice that Arundel is an owl griffin and that you, his uncle, are an eagle griffin...”
“Oh, that,” Uncle laughed. “Well, first of all, I’m just about everyone’s uncle. I became Arundel’s when I found him one mid-summer morning, just a nestling blown out of his nest by a great storm. No notion of who his parents were – never found them, and they never came looking for him. I brought him back to the dell, and here he was raised. Eagle and owl griffins do not exactly hate each other, but the two species do like to give each other a hard time, most of the time in good jest. Other times, it is more competitive in nature than anything else. The eagle griffins would pick on him a little bit, and the owl griffins did not quite consider him an owl griffin neither. Harder for him as he got older. His name does not help either. It literally means ‘from the eagle’s dell’. So, he is marked for life. He moved out of the dell recently to prove he can live like a true owl griffin. See, eagle griffins live in proper ‘drifts’, or groups, tucked away into the sides of cliffs for safety. Owl griffins are more solitary and build their nests in trees. They are also nocturnal. So, Arundel has a few challenges going for him. I’ll bet his nest was a bit of a mess, wasn’t it?” Uncle’s eyes twinkled.
“A bit,” Amy could not help but smile. “Poor chap... Where is he at, anyways?”
“He went out last night looking to see if he could find any sign of your nestmates. He didn’t have any luck, so he came back, got some sleep, and went out again early this morning.”
“I wonder why he’s having such a hard time finding them,” Amy felt the uncomfortable feeling settle in her stomach again, and her mind fretted over what could have possibly happened to them. And if they were unable to find Walter and Airdella, what would she do? What had become of them?
“If it would help, I can drop you off a tad north of where Arundel found you. We could start there looking for your nestmates. I can fly above and look for them while you can stay on the ground and search for them.”
“Oh, yes, that would be very helpful of you,” Amy said eagerly scrambling to her feet.
“Very well, then!”
Uncle and Amy made their way back towards the cave entrance, where several of the eagle griffins were stationed as sentries keeping a sharp watch from their perch on the ledge. Uncle informed one of them, the suspicious griffin from the night before, of where they were going before having Amy climb onto his back. The griffin did not look any less suspicious than he had the night before, but he agreed to pass on Uncle’s message if Arundel came back.
Riding on an eagle griffin was slightly different from riding an owl griffin. Whilst Arundel’s wings had been silent and smooth, Uncle’s wings were a little louder. He also soared much higher than Arundel had. Amy enjoyed the magnificence of the views, but she did find it a bit alarming.
Uncle found the remains of the rope bridge, circled, and descended to the ground, letting Amy slide off his back.
“Right then, a boy and a girl, was it? Both bigger than you? Well, if they are in the open areas, they should not be hard for me to spot. If they are under the thick trees, you would probably find them first. If you run into any trouble or need help, just scream out as loud as you can. I do have pretty good hearing, so it should not be hard for me to hear you. And we will take it little by little just to be safe. I’ll swoop down every five minutes – two minutes – to check on you.”
“Thank you,” Amy nodded.
The griffin took off, climbing quickly, flying high up over her head. Amy looked about her before deciding to start out at a northwesterly direction. That was the way that Arundel had flown with her, so if they had gone searching for her, they would likely have run in that direction. She supposed calling out for Walter and Airdella would make things go faster, but she also did not want to alert any of the White Cougar’s soldiers that might be lurking about.
When she reached the woods, she called quietly at first as she worked her way through the trees and shrubs. But once inside, she could not quite tell what direction she was going. If it was not for Uncle swooping down to check on her every few minutes, she would have become helplessly lost.
She wandered farther and farther with no success. On the verge of frustrated tears, she stopped when she saw something white and shining ahead of her through the woods. As she approached it cautiously, she realized that it was another statue of Elroy. Reassured, she approached it, stopping short again when it called her name.
“Statues don’t talk,” she reminded herself. But there was no denying that someone or something had called her name. A presence like the great beast she had encountered on the other side of the Fury, only richer and deeper.
She almost was not surprised when the statue moved. It raised its sword, pointed it at her, and swept it in a long arc toward the north. Amy followed it with her eyes, and as she looked in the direction it was pointing, she became aware of noise coming from that direction. Looking closer, she thought she saw movement through the trees. When she turned to look back at the statue, it had vanished. But the distinctive sound of clashing metal weapons jolted her out of her surprise. The statue was now nowhere to be seen, but the noise was growing steadily louder.
She had no weapons with which to defend herself if it should turn out to be an enemy. But it could very well be Walter or Airdella fighting someone. She quietly hurried towards the sound, creeping up behind a large tree to have a look.
On the other side of it was a boy in a desperate fight against a soldier. All he had was a long crude knife against the soldier’s shortsword, and he was losing. From the black and white colors of the soldier’s tabard, she realized that he must be one of the White Cougar’s soldiers. One hard shove from the soldier, and the boy was flat on his back, dazed, disarmed, and helpless against the cold steel of the sword now pressing at his throat.
Amy turned her head to look for something, anything she could use as a weapon. A chunk of white stone caught her eye. She had to step away from the shelter of the tree, but she gave it her best throw.
The soldier stumbled in surprise as the heavy chunk of stone caught him squarely in the back of the head. He spun around, faster than Amy had expected, and spotted her. His eyes widened in recognition as if he knew her. He must have decided that the boy was too dazed to be much of a threat, or that Amy was a more important target, for he left the boy completely and came after Amy.
Amy turned and ran, but she knew she would not get very far, so she used her best defense mechanism – she screamed, as loud and as piercing as she could. The soldier had just managed to catch hold of her long blond braid when there came a snapping and cracking of twigs and branches above them. Something heavy plunged through the trees and pounced. Amy ducked instinctively to the ground as the debris fell around her; when she looked up again, she saw the soldier being carried off into the sky by the iron talons and strong wings of an owl griffin.
The owl griffin climbed higher and higher, circling, and then released his prey. Another loud crash and heavy thump echoed through the forest a small way off. There was no need to go investigate as to the soldier’s fate. Amy closed her eyes tightly, holding her head in her hands, and tried not to think about the terrifying death of falling from such a great height. She had only been close to someone else’s horrible death once before. Now the shock and reality of it, the finality, hit her hard enough to knock the wind out of her. The soldier had been the enemy, she reminded herself, concentrating on breathing normally.
“It’s alright – he’s gone,” a gentle voice told her.
Amy looked up as steady hands were placed on her shoulders. The boy had recovered his shock already and looked more concerned about her than about his bleeding head.
It gave her something to focus on. She swallowed hard, trying to clear her throat enough to ask, “Are you alright?” She offered up her handkerchief to help him stop the bleeding.
“Mmmm?” the boy looked surprised as if realizing for the first time that his blond hair was a little matted with blood. “Oh that – it’s nothing. Just a bump. Thank you, though. You must be the Princess Amaryllis.”
“Please, call me Amy,” she said as someone else called her name.
“Amy!” Airdella came crashing ungracefully through the bushes, ran up, and threw her arms around her.
Amy clung to her sister in relief, burying her face in the fabric of Airdella’s sleeve and drowning out the rest of the world for a moment. The fear, anxiety, and stress of the night before; the discouragement as she had searched the woods looking for her brother and sister; the image forever imprinted in her mind of the enemy soldier falling to his death – all slowly faded away as she relaxed in the safety of her sister’s arms. And then Airdella was holding her at arm’s length, checking every inch of her to make sure she was alright.
A worried looking owl griffin also arrived at the scene, returning through the trees a little more gracefully than before. “Oh good, you’re alright,” Arundel panted in relief.
Uncle was right behind him. “You’re safe! And it seems we found your nestmates after all.”
Airdella and the boy started at their arrival, taking several steps back, unsure of whether these talking creatures that had flown straight out of legend constituted as friend or foe.
“Well, this is one of them,” Amy said, placing a reassuring hand on Airdella’s arm. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea who he is.”
“More human fledglings!” Uncle cackled. “Well, I guess you are becoming something you see every day.”
The boy was the first to get over the shock, forcing himself to breathe slowly and steadily to calm his heart. “Aaron,” he introduced himself. “It seems as if I am indebted to you,” he added, giving a bow to Amy and the griffins.
Amy smiled shyly up at him. “How did you know who I was?”
“Amy, where have you been?” Airdella cut in. The overwhelming internal storm of emotions, fear, awe, terror, worry, and relief, needed a release, and as she caught her breath, that question she was able to grasp and form into words. “You too, Aaron. And why did you steal my sister?” she demanded of the griffins. As nearly terrified by these creatures as she was, it did not mean she was not ready to fight them to the death over Amy.
The poor griffins opened and closed their beaks awkwardly while Amy’s cheeks went red.
“I was just trying to find breakfast,” Aaron shrugged, breaking through the awkward moment of silence.
“Arundel wasn’t going to eat me,” Amy stepped between Airdella and her griffin friends. “He was trying to save me, firstly from falling and secondly from being found by Sir Clint’s soldiers.”
“Then why didn’t he come tell us that in the first place? I’ve been trudging around looking for you –”
“Relax.”
“What?”
“You need to relax more,” Aaron said again. “Worrying will age you.”
Airdella stared at him.
“Not that you have gray hair right now or anything, but you don’t want to have a whole bunch of frown wrinkles when you get older. Besides, people who worry a lot die young.”
No one besides her father, Walter, and occasionally Sir Dorrian had ever spoken to Airdella, a princess, like that. Beside her, Amy started giggling as Aaron slyly winked at her.
“Is she always like that?” he asked with a mournful sigh.
“Oh, much worse,” Amy assured him with a grin. Then she became serious, remembering that someone was still missing. “Where’s Walter?”
Airdella’s scowl fell from her face as her brow once again wrinkled with worry and fear. “I don’t know. We got separated when we were looking for you. Then I couldn’t find him. I don’t know where he is.” The haughty self-confident look was gone from her face, and Airdella felt just as she had when she had first learned about her father’s injury. “I think he’s been captured. By Sir Clint Starnor.”
––––––––
It was a somber ride back to the griffin’s cave. Uncle fetched another griffin to help carry them all, and they were soon settled in a gloomy row along the edge of the cave, eating a belated breakfast and trying not to think about whether Walter had had any himself.
All this time, Airdella and Amy were exchanging stories, telling each other what had happened to themselves. Aaron sat quietly to the side, listening, observing, and drumming his fingers on the rocks beside him. While Airdella was better able to tolerate having him around now, Amy herself was completely comfortable around him. Airdella found this a little irritating but did not know why.
“But what about Walter?” Amy asked.
Airdella again told what she knew.
Uncle watched her gravely. “Based on what you have told me, I think it is highly likely that your brother has indeed been captured by the White Cougar. They’ll have taken him to the castle.”
“We have to get him out,” Airdella said firmly.
Arundel sighed. “I don’t want to frighten you, but there’s only one prisoner who has ever came out of there alive. We aren’t even sure how he managed to do it either.”
“Then take us to him,” Aaron suggested. “He’ll at least be able to give us an inkling of what we’re up against.”
“If you can get him to talk,” Arundel cautioned. “He doesn’t like... humans.”
“Understandable,” Amy said. “I know you said before that many of the creatures here don’t trust humans. If the White Cougar is the only human they have ever met, then I can understand why.”
“All the same,” Airdella said, “we still need to talk to him. We’ve nothing to lose by trying.”
“Very well, then. Finish eating, and we’ll get it over with.”
––––––––
The small clearing contained a mound of dirt and overgrown weeds. Smoke rising out of a pile of rocks amongst the moss and ferns, and a large slab of wood covered in moss and wedged into the ground were the only indications that it was, in fact, a house.
Arundel rapped on the slab of wood that served as the door. He had to do so multiple times before it was opened by a very short person who squinted up at them, shielding his eyes from the daylight. His face resembled that of a mole, with a wrinkled nose that was somewhere between a nose and a snout, black whiskery fur that covered his entire head and face, and enormous eyes that took up most of his face. The hand covering his eyes was black, covered in scales, and slightly webbed between the fingers. He wore no shirt, only pants with suspenders, sturdy boots, and a pair of large goggles resting on his forehead.
“Good morning, Erkun,” Arundel said.
“G’morning,” the creature grunted. He eyed them all, frowning as his gaze found the human children. Recognition finally dawned on the creature, whose eyes were slow in adjusting to the light, anger and suspicion clearly written all over his face. “What did ya bring them here fer?”
“We need your help,” Airdella said calmly and earnestly, trying to be patient and understanding of his suspicions.
“Me help you?” the creature gave a half laugh.
“Please, it’s very important,” Amy pleaded.
Erkun looked them all over, shaking his head. He gave a sigh of surrender and retreated down the steps into his house, trailing a long hairless tail behind him.
As he had not closed the door behind him, they assumed that was his way of telling them to come in. The doors were laid almost horizontal to the ground and opened upwards and outwards like a cellar door. The entrance sloped steeply downwards into a small roughly shaped room of earthen walls with a soft dirt floor and a little wooden table and a little fireplace and chimney made of baked clay bricks. A collection of clay pottery filled up one wall of the room, some of the pieces only half done, others set to the side to await hardening in the fire. The three children and Arundel took up nearly half of the room. The other two griffins seemed glad for the excuse to wait outside.
Erkun plumped down heavily onto the floor in front of the fire and picked up a little clay pot still being formed. “Why do I get the feelin’ it’s gonna be a long story that I don’t wants ta hear?” he muttered as a took a pinch of clay and began adding to his pot.
The three children looked at each other, then at Arundel.
Arundel sighed. “I guess there’s no easy way to approach the subject. Their brother’s been captured by the White Cougar.”
“They say that you’re the only person to ever escape the castle,” Airdella said slowly and carefully. “We need you to tell us how so that we can get him out.”
“Oh no,” the creature growled, cutting across the air with his hands. Little claws popped out of his fingertips like a cat’s. “You’ve come to the wrong person.”
“No, we haven’t,” Aaron shook his head. “You’re the only person to come out of that castle alive, and maybe the escape plan you used will work again.”
“Ask somebody else,” Erkun muttered, pressing harder into the clay of his pot than was necessary.
“Who would you have them ask?” Arundel asked quietly “I can’t show them the way, and neither could the Hornblowers. There’s no one who knows that castle better than you.”
“Go ask the Gazer.”
“Even he could not see into the castle. And since you mention him, surely the implications of the appearance of not three, but four, human children on this side of the Fury didn’t escape your notice?”
“I don’t care,” the creature roared, throwing his unfinished pot into the wall. It deformed as it splatted against the wall and tumbled to the ground at his boots. “I don’t care. I don’t care. An’ I said, don’t ask.” Then he became silent.
None of the others dared to break the silence. Except for Amy. She walked up to Erkun, picked up his deformed lump of clay from the floor, and put it in his hands. He looked up in surprise.
“I know what it’s like to be afraid,” she said quietly. “Ever since our mother died, I have lived in fear. My whole life has been ruled by fear. Fear of people. Fear of bad things happening. But you know what I found out? Me being afraid didn’t stop any of it. What happened happened. It doesn’t matter if I’m afraid. What matters is that there’s something more important than my fear. And right now, it’s Walter. And father. Right now, they need our help. And I’m not going to let my fear stop me from trying. But we can’t do it without your help. You don’t have to come with us, just tell us how to get him out.”
Airdella stared at her sister, tears pricking at her eyes and a lump in her throat. Amy who had only been seven when their mother died. Amy who had barely talked to anyone, let alone strangers, ever since. Amy who had bravely followed Walter and Airdella out the window in the middle of the night and across the country on a barely conceived wild goose chase to the end of the world. Amy who had been carried off by a strange creature of myths and fairy tales and made it her friend. Amy afraid? No. Amy was in this moment the bravest person she had ever known.
Erkun stared at the human girl before him, the wrinkles on his face slowly softening. His claws retracted back into his black scaley hands, and his fist relaxed inside of her small delicate chaffed hands.
“Whoever thought it’d be a human to undo what humans did,” he pondered quietly. Sniffing loudly, he rubbed at his snout and eyes. “Alright. Fine. I’ll tell you how I got out. But there’s no guarantee it’ll work again. We’ll have to be pretty sharp to come up with an idea for getting your brother out. Better have a seat. It’s gonna take quite a bit of explaining, and I don’t wanna have to tell it twice.”
They all sat on the floor around the table with the rough red checkered tablecloth, and he began to tell them his tale.
The White Cougar, Sir Clint, had taken over a castle that was an old fortress high on a hill and spanned the top of a gorge, high above a river. It had a giant portcullis on either side to block passage on the river and to guard the harbor underneath it. Erkun’s prison cell in the castle was located on the southern wing of the castle and had a window. By holding onto the iron bars in the window and hoisting himself up, Erkun was able to look down over the courtyard and observe the comings and goings of the White Cougar and his men.
Erkun observed that the White Cougar often left by boat from the harbor under the castle, taking many of his men south downriver with him. They would often be gone for a week or more at a time and return with what looked to be the spoils of war. While they were gone, Erkun noticed that the castle became a much quieter place. There were fewer noises echoing through the stone hallways and fewer soldiers patrolling the courtyard below. It would almost have seemed abandoned except for the few watchmen and the jailer that came through twice a day to feed the prisoners.
The jailer loved his wine a little bit too much and was very prone to drinking more of it when the White Cougar left for a raid. Erkun recognized that the only real opportunity to escape would come during these raids when there would be fewer people about. Taking advantage of the darkness of the cell one night, Erkun hid and jumped his guard.
It had been tricky finding his way out of the castle as he did not know his way around and had to dodge the occasional watchman in the hallways. Through a series of hallways and doorways, Erkun found himself at the top of a spiral staircase marked as the entrance to the harbor down below. At the bottom of the stone staircase, Erkun did indeed find himself on the docks below the castle, nearly empty of boats as the White Cougar had taken most of them with him. Here Erkun’s luck at avoiding detection came to an end. Torches lit the area very well, and several watchmen were posted just outside the door at the bottom of the stairwell.
Knowing he was no match for them, and not having any experience with boats, Erkun trusted his luck to the river, and though he was not a strong swimmer, threw himself off the dock into the water. The watchmen wore full suits of armor and helmets, so they could not swim in the river after him. Erkun let the current carry him away, staying underwater for as long as he could.
While he was trying not to drown in the river, Erkun had to dodge a flurry of arrows. The alarm was sounded, and soldiers gathered along the walls to watch for him and to shoot at anything that moved or surfaced on the river. Erkun dodged all of the arrows but one. It hit him in the left shoulder, and he narrowly avoided drowning. A tree that had fallen into the river gave him the means with which to climb ashore.
It had been a long night of hiding and shivering and stumbling through the forest until he found some fellow earthkins who took him in and treated his injuries, though it had never fully healed.
When he had finished, they all sat back reflecting.
“You say you had a window,” Aaron finally spoke. “How big was it?”
“Very small and narrow. Not big enough to fit through. Bigger one was in the hallway.”
“What if your griffin friend were to drop someone off at the window? Once they had him out of his cell, the griffin would return and pick them up.”
Erkun leaned back in his seat mulling the idea over. “Simple enough. And yes, your best shot.”
“It would require two griffins, specifically owl griffins,” Arundel said. “An eagle griffin wouldn’t be able to see as well in the dark, and owl griffins are nearly silent in flight,” he added with a touch of pride. “The trouble will be finding another owl griffin willing to risk the flight. And if any alarms are sounded, they wouldn’t be able to make the return flight to pick anyone up. The White Cougar’s guards are excellent archers.”
“We’ll need a backup plan,” Aaron folded his arms across his chest and leaned his head back to think. “Anyone know anything about boats?”