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HIGH INTO THE MOUNTAINS we flew, almost above the limit of my mere human lungs. But my companions were experienced in such things, and although I was a bit breathless for a time, I wasn’t seriously distressed. And as luck would have it, the lesser aerie of the dissident gryphons wasn’t much higher than the grand Aerie. This was a break. Given what I meant to do and say, the last thing I needed was a dizzy spell due to altitude sickness.
It was cold enough to take my breath away, in any case. The coat Smathe had given me, though much appreciated, wasn’t quite heavy enough.
The hangout of the young gryphons was a damp gravelly dell at the butt end of a glacier. Cold air seemed to pour from that jagged icy end, which was pitted and open like a cavern at ground level. Water certainly did pour from it, a swift, milky blue-white stream that was probably cold enough to kill you quickly if you fell in. Drifts and mounds of gravel and sand stretched down slope. A blanket of thin white clouds covered it all far overhead. The gathered gryphons, almost all of them full grown but red-eyed and short on years, tussled and sparred with each other between and on top of the piles of glacial debris, practicing the fighting skills of their kind, breath steaming out of them as they exerted themselves. I couldn’t help thinking they chose that harsh location to show how tough they were.
Kids with chips on broad, winged shoulders.
Ironwing and Sixtalon circled the rocky slopes that cupped the glacier, and Sixtalon announced our arrival with an ear-piercing shriek.
The gryphons below looked up and stopped what they were doing. There were caves in the slopes overlooking the mass of ice, and as we circled to land, gryphons emerged and flew down after us. There were dozens, then hundreds, and by the time Ironwing was perched on the highest mound of gravel, we were surrounded by an army of gryphons, mostly young, and of both genders. The glares ranged from angry to venomous, and the hissing of outraged gryphons was loud and clear over the rush of water in the stream. Equally clear was the reason for their animosity. Had Ironwing and Sixtalon arrived without me, I have no doubt proper respect would have been shown.
But they’d brought me. They’d brought a human.
Slashtail appeared at the edge of the crowd and strode to the base of the hillock we’d landed on. “He is not welcome here!” he shouted up at us.
“He is welcome wherever I rule,” was Ironwing’s response. “Do you challenge that rule, youngling?”
Her son lowered his head and flattened his wings as if preparing to charge. The gryphons below and around us suddenly fell silent, and no small number backed away. Clearly, in the eyes of some, Slashtail had gone too far. I sat on Ironwing, too shocked by the horrible realization that he was about to challenge his mother to react. I felt Ironwing tense under me, but she remained otherwise absolutely still. For she had no reason to move.
Sixtalon hit his grandson like a cruise missile, a combined leap and glide down the slope that happened in the blink of an eye. The two grappled and rolled in a spray of gravel and wet sand to the flatter ground below, kicking up a spray of wet sand high into the air. The fight ended there. Sixtalon pinned Slashtail to the ground with one massive raptor foot wrapped around his throat. Slashtail’s wings flailed against the damp ground, and his own talons raked at his grandfather, but reached only the thick feathers that spilled down Sixtalon’s chest. The elder gryphon held his head up, beak poised as if for a blow, though all he really needed to do was squeeze.
Grandson or no, Slashtail had challenged his mother, the rightful chosen Queen of the gryphons. The other young gryphons looked around as if seeking a place to hide. Not one came to his aid. Slashtail had seriously overreached.
“Your right to live is forfeit,” Ironwing screamed in gryphon speech. “You have challenged me, and my champion has defeated you!”
Oh, shit... “Ironwing,” I whispered, knowing she would hear. “No!”
Ironwing did not respond.
“Some challenger,” Sixtalon scoffed, still in gryphon speech. “You couldn’t handle an old bird like me. And yet you would take on her? Ha!”
After a long moment, Slashtail closed those glaring red eyes and subsided, wings flat against the gravel, forelegs folded against his chest. He turned his head to the side, eyes clamped shut, defeated.
“Release him, father. We will be merciful this time and let him live. Perhaps, one day, he will redeem himself.” Sixtalon obeyed and stalked away without so much as a backward glance. Behind him, Slashtail stood, wings drooping and head low, quivering with humiliation and frustrated rage.
Ironwing scanned the assembled gryphons with a slow sweep of her head, then cried out, “Daffyd Outworlder has my blessing and will speak to you. You will hear him!”
She made no effort to facilitate a dismount, so I sat where I was. All those gryphon eyes locked on me — that was an intimidating moment, I must admit. Slashtail looked up at us, still glaring; I addressed him directly. “Slashtail! What is it that frightens you? What about the Gryphon Stone scares you so much that you would rebel against your Queen, your own mother?”
“I fear nothing!” he screamed at me, rage finding sudden release.
“Then you’re a fool! Because there is something in that Stone that should frighten you badly!” My eyes swept the silent, motionless host gathered around me. “For almost a thousand years the Gryphon Stone has existed as a bridge between humans and gryphons. Because it gave you the chance to feel as we feel, and let us see that your hearts echo our own, we have existed in a glorious partnership. Of all the worlds I’ve visited in my travels, I have found none that have known such peace and prosperity, and all because the gryphons and humans live in harmony.
“But that’s all changed now. You said it yourself, Slashtail. You felt what happened that night, two years ago. And you know that the Stone can do far more than work away in the background. That is what you must fear. In the hands of the Regent, it will be the tool that makes you all slaves!”
Hissing rose all around me.
“We will never be slaves to humans!” Slashtail declared. “Not even one so powerful as the Regent of Morva!”
“The Regent is not human,” I replied. “He is an Alvehn. And the Alvehn created the Stone.” I let that hang there a moment; the only sound then was the sigh of the cold breeze and the voice of the icy stream flowing nearby. “As long as that device exists in the hands of the Regent, you are at risk. And now that the true nature of the Stone is known, there will always be a risk. We need to take back the Gryphon Stone, and to do that I need your help. Fight for us!”
“Fight to help you gain the Stone for yourself?” Slashtail demanded. “You are mad! Why would we substitute his rule for yours?”
“I do not seek to rule gryphon kind, and I will never do so. I want the Gryphon Stone so I can destroy it.” Not a sound came back to me in response. “I mean to take the thing and ruin it, and remove the threat to your freedom forever!”
Below me, Ironwing hissed in surprise. And Sixtalon said, “But then we lose its benefit as well!”
“Do we?” I gestured back toward the aerie. “The Stone has not functioned properly for almost two years, according to Trey. And yet there are three hundred Guardians in the Aerie, right now, preparing to fly into battle together. Together! As they’ve done for generations. I’ve come to count you and your daughter among my friends, and that happened quickly, without the Stone. We don’t need the Gryphon Stone. Look into your own hearts. Am I wrong?”
“No,” said Ironwing. “You are not wrong.”
“The Gryphon Stone has done its job,” I said. “And now, we don’t need it. Its potential to do harm is too great a risk to accept, for it could undo the grand covenant between our peoples forever. I will die before I let that happen!”
There was a long pause, then Ironwing raised her head and let go a shriek that said all must attend her. In words, she added, “I will fly into battle. We will take down this Alvehn who would rule our world. I will fly with Daffyd Outworlder. How many of you will follow me?”
The outcry that rose from the assembled gryphons was deafening; I resisted the urge to cover my ears. The response would have been unanimous, but at that point Slashtail lofted and flew away. He flew alone.
“Leave him,” Ironwing said to her father. Then, to the multitude that remained she said, “My father will command you in my name. You will be summoned when the time is right.”
Ironwing lofted and we returned to the Aerie, the war cries of gryphons rising in our wake.
