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Authors: K.J. Taylor

The Griffin's Flight (49 page)

BOOK: The Griffin's Flight
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“But what does it mean?” said Skade.
“That gods and spirits can’t help me, but you can,” said Arenadd. “It’s a sign. Don’t you see?” He took her hand. “I’m sorry for the things I said, Skade. I was angry with you; I felt it was your fault that I was caught. My father and mother were sold into slavery while I was looking for the cave, and I blamed you for leading me there when I should have been going to Norton to meet them. I thought about that all the time. While I was in Herbstitt, I thought about the cave every day. And I thought about you.” He let go of her hand. “And I know we can’t be together, Skade. It was a dream. Nothing more. I’m a human and you’re a griffin. It’s wrong and obscene and … impossible. We never had a chance to be anything more than lovers for a short time. And how could anyone love me? After what I’ve done? What I’ve become? No. But I’ll still protect you, Skade. I still care about you, and I still …”
“Still what?” said Skade.
“I still love you, Skade, I never thought I could have that feeling ever again, but I do.”
“Love?” said Skade. “For me?”
“Yes. You’re …” Arenadd shook his head. “I can’t help it. I don’t care that you’re a griffin. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You’re beautiful, you’re clever, you’re braver than anyone I know. And you accept me for who and what I am, like Skandar does. Even if the spirits didn’t help me, you gave me back my—you made me feel like I was worth something again, and I can’t ever repay you for that. And I thought that—” He looked away. “Well, it doesn’t matter. None of it does. It’s over with. It’s done.”
Silence.
“Arenadd,” Skade said at last. “Do you know why it was that the spirits refused to change me back into my old shape?”
He looked at her. “No, how could I?”
“It was because of you,” Skade said simply.
“Me? Why?”
“The spirits appeared to me as they did to you,” said Skade. “In the shape of a dead soul I had known and cared for.”
“Welyn.”
“Yes. The spirits came in his form, and I asked them, as you did, to heal me. And then Welyn … changed. He became someone I did not recognise at first, but after a time I realised that it was you. But a younger you, without scars. And you—he—told me that I could never become a griffin again. He said that at first I had merely worn the shape of a human, but now it is too late for me to return. ‘You ate with a human, travelled with a human, talked with a human as an equal. You shared yourself with him and so began to feel emotions as a human would.’ He said that if I had not mated with you, I could still have returned. But when I did that, I made myself human in a way that meant there was no going back. He said, ‘You sealed your own fate the moment you began to lust after him.’ ” She sighed.
“And so I returned to the living world and found I was still human, and I realised that there was no hope that I could ever change again. I am not a griffin now, Arenadd Taranisäii. I am a human, and shall be for the rest of my life. In a way, it is just as well that you were not there then, for I was angry with you, so much so that I would have attacked you if I had seen you. But you were not there, and in time my anger calmed, and I began to wish for you.”
“But it was my fault,” said Arenadd. “If I hadn’t let you—”
“You do not understand,” said Skade. “You, Arenadd, you were the saving of me. The times I spent with you were the only times I was happy as a human. And it is you who gave me a reason to believe that I could survive this way. It was you who gave me hope.”
Arenadd looked wretched. “Yes, but I’m not
worth
it, Skade. I have no heart.”
“You have enough of a heart for me,” said Skade.
He was silent for a time. “Skade, since we were separated, I killed again. Four people. Guards. I slaughtered them. Even the one who surrendered. And I
enjoyed
it.” He clasped his hands together. “I think I’m evil, Skade. It scares me—but what else can I be? I kill, I destroy. And what the spirits told me: not cursed but
a
curse.
Kraeai kran ae
. Heartless. Soulless.
Evil
.”
Skade seized him by the shoulders. “Look at me, Arenadd,” she commanded.
Arenadd did, black to gold. “Skade, I—”
“The evil do not love,” Skade breathed.
“I don’t—”
But Skade smothered his protests with a kiss.
 
S
unset over Malvern, and Erian walked back to his quarters, feeling tired but oddly satisfied. He had spent the entire afternoon and evening in his new office, searching, shuffling and scribbling. His shoulders ached, his eyes were sore and his favourite feathered tunic was spotted with ink. But in spite of all that, he had a sense of achievement as well. The endless turning of the pages had settled into a kind of rhythm and had lulled him into a relaxed half-dreaming state that prevented him from becoming bored. He had lost his sense of time and had almost been shocked when Kerod suddenly announced that the sun was going down and they may as well retire for the night.
They parted amicably, with Kerod’s final words being “Goodnight, Erian. You did good work today; you’ve got good handwriting, and you work at a fine pace and don’t make too many mistakes. I think we’ll work well together.” He gave his by-now-familiar wrinkled smile. “Once again, Elkin proves how good she is at seeing the potential of people.”
That warmed Erian and gave him an extra bounce in his step as he walked back along the corridor. All the same, he couldn’t help but wish Senneck had been there to hear it. She hadn’t returned to the office and neither had Eekrae, and Erian assumed she must be waiting for him in her new nest. Remembering his promise, he stopped a servant on the way and sent him to get some meat.
His quarters had been cleaned out during his absence, and a bowl of fruit was waiting on the desk. Senneck hadn’t returned yet, so he selected a pear and flopped down on the bed to eat it. Eventually the servant arrived, carrying a haunch of venison. Erian ordered him to place it on the large earthenware dish in Senneck’s chamber, and then took a bucketful of water to refill the trough. Still not entirely satisfied, he spent some time rearranging the straw to make it as comfortable for her as possible. He was pleased; he knew Senneck would be happy when she saw her favourite meat waiting for her, and his account of his successful first day of work would please her even more.
Filled with optimism and contentment, he wandered out onto the balcony to see if he could spot her in the sky.
The sun had nearly finished going down, but the sky was still full of griffins. Erian squinted at them, hoping to spot Senneck’s mottled brown wings, but without result: in the half-light most of them resembled nothing more than black shapes, drifting lazily here and there. But it was truly a magnificent sight.
Once again, Erian reflected on how proud he was to have found a home here in this beautiful Eyrie, bigger and far more impressive than Eagleholm’s had once been. And this land, too, had a beauty all its own beyond its harsh cold. Its inhabitants should be proud to belong to it.
Quite unexpectedly, he found himself wondering if the murderer had reached the North yet. Was he out there somewhere, hiding among his fellow darkmen? Or had he gone even further north, to the places where no civilised people went and savages lived and preyed on one another? Or had something happened to him before then; had he been captured or killed on the way and never even seen his people’s home at all?
Erian clasped his hands together behind his back, his forehead wrinkling. “Where are you?” he said aloud. “Where are you hiding? Are you coming here? Are you hiding from me, or looking for me? Do you even remember me, or am I nothing to you at all?” He thought of the way the blackrobe had looked at him that night, the contempt and hatred in his torn face as he stood over his father’s bloodied corpse.
If your father was such a great man, ask yourself why he fathered a bastard. Ask yourself why even death could not stop me—he fathered a bastard, he fathered
—
“It wasn’t his fault,” Erian mumbled. “He was a man of honour; my mother seduced him. He still cared about me. He—”
Erian shook himself abruptly. There was no point in torturing himself. His father would want him to be brave and keep his mind on what he should be doing.
Still no sign of Senneck. The sun had gone down, and the stars were coming out. Erian sighed and went back inside. A fire had been set in the grate, and he lit some candles from it and sent a servant to bring him some food. Lunch had been a long time ago, and his stomach ached with hunger.
When the food arrived he ate it alone at the table, his former good cheer now absent. He had expected Senneck to be there. He’d walked back to their home envisioning what would happen when he got there: they would eat together, and he would tell her everything that had happened and see if she would tell him about her flight with Eekrae.
Once he’d eaten, he poured himself a mug of warm cider and sat out on the balcony to drink it, feeling almost betrayed. He was Senneck’s human, her partner, her friend, and yet she would rather spend her time with her new mate than with him.
Not for the first time, Erian felt resentful toward her. When he was younger and dreaming of being a griffiner, he had thought his partner would be his friend, his best friend, the one who understood him better than anyone else. They would talk together about anything and share their secrets and deepest feelings, and no matter what happened he could always confide in her and she would help him. And when they walked together down the street, people would bow to them in awe, and she would snap at anyone who bothered them, and they would watch them run off in fright, and laugh. It would be his pathway to a new life, a better life, and he would never be lonely or rejected again. But Senneck was—well, she was Senneck, and that was all.
Erian tossed back the last of the cider and hunched his shoulders against the cold.
She doesn’t care about you,
he thought.
And she isn’t your friend. All she cares about is using you for her own ends, to make herself powerful. She
told
you so. After all, she’s the mighty griffin, and you’re … nothing
.
Eventually tiredness caught up with him, and he got up and stumbled back inside. The cider had gone to his head, and he felt dizzy and a little disoriented. Part of him wanted to sleep, but he wanted to be awake when Senneck returned.
He sat down with his back to the wall and waited. She had to come back soon. After all, griffins didn’t like to fly at night, and she would be hungry.
But Senneck did not come. The candles continued to burn in the next room, providing the only light, and the effort of seeing made Erian’s eyes hurt.
Eventually, he slipped into a doze and the dream caught up with him again.
He was standing in a room, surrounded by flames. Senneck was with him, and Flell, but both of them were shadowy: present, but unimportant in some way.
There was nothing unimportant about the shape in front of him, the one rising out of the fire to confront him. By now, he knew the face perfectly dominated by those soulless black eyes.
You,
the face whispered.
You
.
Erian tried to speak, but his lips were stuck together. The hateful figure came closer, and he drew Bloodpride and swung it with all his might, but the blade crumbled away to nothing and he was trapped, while the monster danced in front of him, sneering and mocking.
As it was before, it shall be again, again Bastard, again, again. As it was before, was before. Where you go I go, here to there, then to now, we have the power, she and I have it, she and I, and it will be again, again, again
—
A hard nudge in the ribs woke Erian up. He jerked awake. “What? What?”
“Calm yourself, Erian.”
Senneck’s voice. Erian groaned and rubbed his face. It was nearly pitch-black, but he could sense the griffin’s presence in front of him.
“Senneck,” he said. “You’re back.”
She moved away from him, allowing more light to filter in from the next room. “So I am. I see you were waiting for me.”
Erian stood. “Yes. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
There was a rustling of straw from somewhere to his left. “There is no need to apologise,” said Senneck. “The time is late.” A dull
thunk
, and she said, “And I see you have left some venison for me.”
“Yes. I knew you’d like it.”
“I do,” said Senneck. He heard a crunching sound. “Please, excuse me. I am hungry.”
“Oh. Oh, it’s all right. Shall I bring some light?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Erian stumbled into the next room and brought a candle in a candleholder. There were some torches high up on the walls, well away from the straw, and he lit them. Once the chamber had been illuminated he could see Senneck, busily hunched over the meat. She looked a little tousled but otherwise fine.
Erian returned the candle to the next room before he came back to join her. He waited politely until she had finished eating and had drunk from the trough.
BOOK: The Griffin's Flight
3.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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