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I TURNED TO TAKE STOCK of my companions and their condition. Flying with a gryphon is like living in a dream, for me. But that’s just me. For a moment, I thought Grevin was going to fall to his knees and kiss the ground. The little stagger that made me think so was arrested by the well-timed raising of a gryphon forefoot, the long claws of the bird-like appendage carefully curled inward. Grevin found himself leaning on a scaled knuckle almost the size of his head, straightened, then did a double-take and said, “My thanks, friend.”
“You did well,” the gryphon said, and lofted away into the gathering night.
Trey said something I didn’t catch to the gryphon he’d flown with, and then all the gryphons except Cirrus lofted away. Veresa was standing with Parick, speaking to him in a low, excited voice as she wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to stay warm. Her eyes shone when she looked my way, and her auburn hair was a tangled mess around her shoulders. From his incredulous look, I could easily imagine the enthusiasm she had for flying, and how he reacted to it. And I wondered how long it would be before he stopped underestimating that young woman.
Sid and Cirrus stood facing each other. Neither spoke. Sid alone seemed unaffected by the cold. She laid her sword hand on the short feathers above Cirrus’ nares; both stood with eyes closed. Then Cirrus touched the upper curve of her bill against Sid’s breast for a moment, as Ironwing had done to me. Cirrus lofted and was gone.
“Made a friend?” I asked as Sid joined us.
“Oh, yes!” She was grinning and seemed a bit out of breath. “Oh, Daffyd! What we just did!”
“I know,” I replied, and reached out to take her by the hand, drawing her to stand with me.
“Well, I’m not so fond of flying as some of you,” Grevin admitted. “But these gryphons certainly are fine folk. Sunflash kept asking me if I was well, and offered to land if I felt distressed. He obviously cared for my comfort, and that’s not the tale told of these people.”
“The Regent has been lying all along,” I said for hardly the first time.
“Yes,” said Trey. “And we have proof here that the Gryphon Stone still exerts its influence. There may yet be time to turn this around.”
“Yes,” I said. But for all that I agreed, I suddenly had that strange sensation of something being out of joint. There was nothing I could point to, and no reason to speak out, but I felt a very clear sense that he was wrong about something.
A man of middle years, wrapped in a great coat that had the Sky Guard silhouette of a gryphon on the upper arms, and the gold cuffs of a Captain, strode toward us at the head of a short squad of Guards. He wore no armor, just a leather vest over his shirt. Waving us toward the great cavern he said, “Let’s get you inside and in front of a fire. Food is being prepared.”
“Food!” said Trey. “Ha! What I need to drive off this chill is a bit of brandy.”
A blast of wind brought grimaces all around. The temperature was dropping rapidly. The Captain grinned and said, “Brandy we have, as well, and more than a bit. But it’s inside!”
“Say no more!” I declared. The wind was picking up and it was downright uncomfortable out there in the open, even with my coat wrapped tightly around me. Still holding Sid’s hand, I followed as the Captain turned and led his escort back the way they’d come. We crossed a wide stone shelf bare of even a single pebble, polished smooth by generations of gryphon feet. In a moment we entered the central opening of the Aerie, where the wind was blocked at least, even if it was no warmer. Lamps on the walls cast a golden light that glinted off dark, smooth rock.
In all the time I’d spent on this world, this was a place I’d never visited, knowing only the facilities built for the Sky Guard in Morvain. I’d certainly heard of the gryphon homeland in these cold and wind-swept peaks, but seeing it was something else. Everything had been built by the Morvans in the early days of the human and gryphon partnership. The scale of things was huge, meant to accommodate the gryphons, and they moved at ease in the vast hall through which we were led. Some looked our way with interest, and a few older gryphons bowed their heads in polite acknowledgment of their guests. The younger gryphons, a group that gathered around Ironwing’s elder son Slashtail, watched us with disdain bordering on contempt. And yes, you can read that easily in the body language and the eyes of a gryphon. The claws and talons of gryphons clicked on the rock floor all around us, mingled with the speech of gryphons and humans. It was a busy place.
It grew warmer as we walked on, though no source of heat could be seen. I guessed, and learned later I was correct, that the warmth we felt was geothermal in origin. Adrathea is, according to the Alvehn, an old world, its internal fires far less dynamic than my Earth. But not quite dead, and in the Gryphon Heights they provided a gentle warmth. The place carried the scent of gryphons, a slightly musky aroma that soon became too familiar to notice. Our escort turned aside after a long straight march, down a corridor that was more broad than tall, three times the width of a gryphon wing span. I could see that some of my companions were growing weary. The Prince had Veresa’s arm on his to give her support. Trey and Grevin strode along, but I could see it in the human’s eyes that he needed to sit and gather himself. Just as I thought to ask how far we would hike, we came to a set of human-sized entrances in the left-hand wall, and through one of these were led into human-sized chambers beyond.
“I didn’t know there was a permanent human presence here,” I said.
“There wasn’t,” Trey explained. “These are left from when the Morvans built this place for the gryphons.”
“Quite right,” the Captain said. “Her ladyship turned them over to us. They needed a bit of renovation, but we’ve managed. And — I am remiss, distracted by a desire for warmer surroundings. I am Captain Luray Smathe, currently and I hope temporarily the Commander of the Sky Guardian.”
We introduced ourselves as we were led into a noisy mess hall, Parick last of all. The Guardians froze for a moment, their faces studies in surprise and wonder, then all of them went down on one knee. “God and Goddess, it’s true!” Smathe said. “The heir yet lives!”
“We haven’t held on and fought to no purpose, then,” a female Guardian kneeling beside him half-whispered.
“Stand, my friends,” Parick said, smiling at them. “Be at ease.” When they hesitated, Parick laughed and said, “I am unused to such formality. Please.” They stood, and Parick went to the Captain, reaching for his hand. “Good Captain, I have rarely been more pleased to make a man’s acquaintance. That there is a Sky Guard still, ah, by the Two! No, you have not held on in vain. And now, perhaps, the time has come to reverse our ill fortunes!”
“May it be so, sire!”
I had to admit, Parick played his role well. It didn’t hurt that he was completely sincere.
In the wall opposite the entrance was an open service window. Warmth and the smells of cooking wafted into the hall as we surrounded a table and sat down. “It’s been many lives of men and gryphons since any cooking was done in there. The stoves needed work.” Captain Smathe waved at someone he could see beyond the window, then smiled and said, “Dinner is on the way. And brandy!”
Trays of food started to appear on the shelf; I could see people, men mostly, in that steamy kitchen assembling the meal. Several of Smathe’s fellow Guardians went to gather the food, steaming hot tea, and various cups and cutlery set there; Grevin was quick to join them, serving Parick and Veresa. We ate with good appetite; the food was simple but abundant, and well received. Guardians appeared at the service counter and in the doorways at either end of the mess hall, peering at Parick and holding brief conversations with each other. Word was spreading that the heir to the Morvain throne was with them.
The faces of these men and women always seemed guarded, even skeptical, until they’d had a good look. After that look, as they turned and made way for their comrades at arms, you saw something very different in their expressions: hope and determination.
The last of the meal — and there wasn’t much left over — was eventually cleared away, and then it was brandy all around. The fires in the stone hearths at each end of the hall crackled and added to the gentle warmth that permeated the entire Aerie. As time passed, all but two of the Captain’s companions, a man much younger and a woman clearly older than Smathe, said good night and retired. You’d think, at that point, things would have been a bit more relaxed, but the looks on the faces around me were more than a bit grim.
“We have new hope, now that you are here,” Smathe said to Parick. “When you step forward and declare yourself, we will be with you.”
“Then I have some hope of succeeding,” Parick replied with a smile. “Though I don’t expect it to be easy.”
“Not with the way the Regent has poisoned the minds of the people with his fearmongering,” Smathe said with a grimace. “You’d think the gryphons had all grown horns and serpent’s fangs, the way most people react to us. But for the Abbey and the hunting prowess of the gryphons, we’d have been starved out of these burrows!”
“Fearmongering,” said the man on Smathe’s left, whose name was Burnay Myller. He clearly thought the word an understatement. “’Tis said winged monsters attack at night, on both sides of the border. The Regent’s folk claim it’s the gryphons that do this.”
“The Regent went to great trouble to plant the seed of doubt,” Trey said, swirling his brandy around the glass. “The belief, among the Morvans, is that the gryphons killed all their human companions. We know for certain, now, that this is a lie, but...”
“Something else was there,” I said. “We’ve reason to believe manticores were involved.”
Smathe gave his female companion, his second in command Harta Rue, a pointed look. She glared at him, then nodded, took another drink of her brandy, and began to speak with evident reluctance. “I believe you are right.” And more brandy went down. “Pah! I damned well know you are! I was on my way to Morvain, when it happened. My partner Brighthail and I were coming back from courier duty to an outpost in the north. As we drew near, something startled her, some premonition or night fear. She suddenly settled on the outer wall of the city. When I asked what was wrong, she confessed to not knowing, but that something felt amiss. She was clearly frightened.” Harta looked around at us, eyes wide. “I’ve flown with Brighthail for two decades. I have never seen her afraid!”
“It was the manipulation of the Gryphon Stone,” Trey said with a grimace. “The Regent used it to distract the gryphons, put them off their guard. You must have been far enough away to miss the worst effects.”
“I coaxed her back into flight, but we had not crossed a quarter of the city before gryphons appeared, flying in panic, fleeing to the west. Brighthail called to them, demanding to know what was wrong. None answered. A few bore their companions, but most were riderless. And then...” Harta’s face darkened and she drank a rather significant quantity of brandy. “There were other things in the air, pursuing the fleeing gryphons. Neither Brighthail nor I knew what they were. They were black and flew on great leather wings. And they stank! One came at us shrieking and snarling before Brighthail could turn and flee. She grappled with it. I had time to get off a single shot, then impaled it with my bayonet. In the moment it was stuck by my blade it turned, and I glimpsed its — face.” She shuddered and clutched the glass so tightly I was afraid it would shatter. “A bestial mockery of a human face, leering over curved fangs. Its tail lashed at us, but Brighthail saw a sting there, evaded it, and struck with her hind claws. It fell into the darkness below, disemboweled. Brighthail turned and fled. We followed the others west into the night. Eventually, we came here.”
“Word spread after of the attack and the massacre in Morvain,” Smathe said when it was clear Harta would say no more. “Only a dozen escaped, and of them, only four riders. The rest of us came in from the north and other outposts when we learned that the Regent had declared the Sky Guard guilty of treason, that we were in league with the Sobrans.”
“It was the Sky Guard who were betrayed,” Burnay grumbled. Anger glinted in his eyes, already brightened by alcohol. “My brother died that night!”
“We lost many of our best,” Harta said, giving the younger man a look of sympathy. “Among them our most experienced officers. Even Commander Orguin.”
“Sixtalon believes his partner yet lives,” said Captain Smathe.
“Based on what I told him today,” Parick said. “To the best of my knowledge, he lives still, though I know nothing of his whereabouts.”
“We heard nothing of him, when we were in Morvain,” I added.
“The Regent ordered his arrest,” Grevin said. “To the best of my knowledge, he was never taken into custody. But that is all I know.”
Burnay looked at Smathe and said, “So you remain in command.”
Smathe looked pained, then apologetic. To us, he said, “I am the highest ranking officer left, but that is my sole qualification.”
“You underrate yourself,” said Harta.
“The others have accepted his leadership?” Parick asked.
“We have, your Highness,” Burnay replied. “Without reservation.” Beside him, Harta gave a single nod of assent.
“Then I will trust their judgment of you, Captain Smathe, and ask that you remain in command of the Sky Guard unless we find Commander Orguin,” said Parick.
“I will do my best, sire,” Smathe replied. He made the sign of the Two and bowed his head a moment.
“How many have gathered here?” I asked.
“There are many gryphons,” Smathe replied. “But of Sky Guards, barely three hundred. There may be others out there, but they will be few. Nearly all who could escape came here two years ago, when we were declared traitors.”
“We keep regular patrols,” Harta said. “We are not blind to what goes on in the world.”
“It goes ill in the north,” Smathe said. “The Regent will have his war, and probably sooner rather than later.”
“No,” said Parick. “I will not allow it!”
“We stand with you, your Highness,” Smathe replied. “But we are too few, even if the unpaired gryphons were to join us.”
“And not all are so inclined,” Harta added.
I caught her eye and nodded. “We got the impression there was discord in the Aerie. Ironwing’s son, in particular, seems to have a dim view of humans.”
“He had a mate,” Smathe said with a grimace. “She — didn’t make it back from Morvain.”
“Ah, damn.” I shook my head and sighed. Of a sudden I understood Slashtail all too well.
“The pain of her loss wasn’t limited to Slashtail,” Harta replied. “Windsong was much loved by the gryphons in general. She was in Morvain to train a rider, and become a Sky Guard herself. That she died while doing so is something Slashtail and his comrades very much hold against us. Sixtalon alone has kept them from open rebellion.”
“There is a powerful bond between Slashtail and Sixtalon,” Smathe said. “Slashtail never knew his father, who died in a storm before his birth. Ironwing’s other mates were — less than permanent. Sixtalon is the closest thing to a father he has known and, so far, has kept that rebellious lot from becoming a problem.”
“So, we’re back to how we go about averting a war,” Trey said. “That requires his Highness removing the Regent from power, and to do so we will need the gryphons. With the Gryphon Stone missing, having the gryphons on our side is a chancy business. It must not be functioning properly if the younger gryphons look at humans that way!”
“Something isn’t adding up there,” I said, turning to look at Trey. “There’s still a Sky Guard, so the old covenant hasn’t been completely wrecked. And surely you saw how Sid and Cirrus bonded. Ironwing and I have certainly hit it off.”
“It seems to be a problem only with younger gryphons,” said Harta.
“Slashtail has an explanation for that,” Burnay said, watching his brandy swirl around in the glass he held. “He considers those gryphons who hold to the old ways tools of the humans, tainted by human ideas, human thought. This belief is, regrettably, catching on with his peers. They aim to be ‘purely’ gryphon.”
“The damage done by the Regent through the Stone isn’t complete,” Trey said. “I do see that, David. But we still need to get the Stone back and repair it. It is unstable and could create more havoc. And it could possibly be used to enslave the gryphons.”
“You needn’t go far,” said Smathe. “It resides within the Abbey.”
Trey actually gasped in surprise. “You’re sure of this?” I asked.
He nodded. “I have seen it. It was sent to the Abbot, and is now in his safe keeping.”
“I sent it there,” said Parick. “I found it the night Veresa and I were forced to leave Morvain. I packed it into a common tithing box with the usual offering of coin. When we reached Westla it was given to the small monastery there, with the heartfelt request that it go to the Abbey.”
“It was the dying request of my father, you see,” and Veresa gave us a round-eyed soulful look, presumably a recreation of that she’d put on for the Brethren. I had no doubt the Brothers of the Two in Westla bought the story — the box may have been hand-delivered to the Abbot.
“That was a risky move!” I declared. “Damned clever, and smart in not letting him do it,” I said with a nod to the Prince. “But damned risky.”
“I held back, being all too recognizable at that point. We worked out a crude disguise before we joined with the players,” Parick replied. “But the risk was surely less than that of the Regent having the thing. I could only hope the Abbot would recognize what he had, and keep it safe. It sounds as if that is the case.”
I raised my glass to him in salute. The young man had class and a hell of a nerve, and the potential to be a great leader. “Well, Trey is right. We do need to get it back. If you have the Stone, and the gryphons follow you willingly, you can make your claim as the heir and dismiss the Regent. His power base would evaporate.”
“He has other sources of power,” Trey pointed out.
“Do these powers give him mind control over the troops headed north?” I asked. “Or even over the generals?”
Trey shook his head. “No, of course not.”
“The people have grown distrustful of the gryphons,” Grevin pointed out. “It will be difficult to reverse that opinion.”
“I’m not so sure,” Parick said. “The travelers Veresa and I have met over the past two years on the rail all hark back to the days when the gryphons were seen as agents of peace and justice. There is a great undercurrent of disbelief in the notion that a gryphon betrayal is even possible.”
“So,” said Trey. “We regain the empathy bridge and repair it, first of all.”
“The — what?” Harta asked.
“My apologies,” Trey said. “That is the name my people use for the Gryphon Stone.”
“Can you fix it?” I asked then. “No offense, Trey, but you screwed it up in the first place.”
“That’s not quite accurate,” he said mildly. “I was trying to enhance it, unaware that the Regent was monitoring my actions. He chose a particularly delicate moment to interfere, and I lost control of the device.”
“Can he reach it, or whatever it is he does, from Morvain?” Sid asked.
Trey shook his head. “No.”
The Guardians were watching us, eyes flicking back and forth, puzzlement plain on their faces. “You speak of the Regent,” said Captain Smathe, “as if he were one possessed of otherworldly power.”
“You are most perceptive, my good Captain,” Trey replied. He hesitated, as if working up to a big decision, then went on. What he chose to reveal to them was, indeed, a big decision. “The Regent is my cousin. He is an Alvehn in disguise, a traitor to his people and to all who trust my race. An Alvehn who believes it is better to rule than to guide. And he is a man of considerable knowledge, if not so well-endowed with judgment.”
“The Two preserve...” Smathe made the sign. Beside him, Harta made a more forceful warding gesture, while Burnay simply stared with wide eyes. “It is a formidable foe you hold before us!”
“But not unbeatable,” I told them. “Trey and I have faced him before and defeated him. And we’re going to do it again, with your help.”
“God and Goddess willing,” Burnay said under his breath.
I didn’t dispute him.
“I have always thought there was something peculiar about how easily he manipulated people and events,” said Parick.
“’Peculiar’?” Trey smirked and shook his head. “You are being too kind.”
“He doesn’t know him the way we do.” I finished the brandy. Food, warmth, and alcohol were beginning to draw down the curtains. “So, our next stop is the Abbey. Should we give them some warning? Perhaps tell the Abbot who we have here?” I said, looking first at Parick, then to Trey.
“Not quite yet,” said Parick. He turned toward Captain Smathe and said, “Send word to the Abbot that he is wanted in the Aerie. Say that the Queen wishes to take council with him regarding the continued maintenance of the Sky Guard. After all, it wouldn’t do for her to go to him.”
“I like it,” I said.
Parick saluted me with his glass and finished his brandy. “And now, I must rest. It has been quite a day!”
In that, also, Parick and I were in complete agreement.
