The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy) (22 page)

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Authors: K. J. Taylor

BOOK: The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy)
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“I don’t want to talk about it,” Arenadd said stiffly.
“What’s happened to you?” said Annir. “I don’t understand. You’re not who you used to be. You’ve changed. I thought . . .” She looked at the ground. “I thought I knew you. I thought I knew all of you. But this is . . .”
Arenadd leant toward her. “What is it? What are you talking about?”
She looked up. “I don’t know you any more. I feel as if you’ve turned into a stranger. Arren . . .”
Arenadd watched her, dismayed. “I haven’t changed that much. I’m still me, I—”
“You’re not!” Annir exclaimed. “You’re not who you used to be. Listen to yourself! Can’t you hear what you sound like? I know my son, Arren. You weren’t like this before. The man I knew would never have talked about war and death this way. He would never have talked about killing people as if it was nothing. He would never have
enjoyed
the idea. You used to hate it when your father talked about Arddryn’s rebellion—now you’re talking about restarting it. You’re talking about destroying Malvern—don’t you care about all the people you’re going to kill?”
“They’re my enemies,” Arenadd said flatly. “Enemies of us all.”
“They’re human beings! How many people have you killed, Arren? After Rannagon—how many?”
Arenadd shifted uneasily. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters! They were people, Arren! People with lives, people with
families
. Have you thought of that? What about the men you killed yesterday? Don’t you feel any guilt at all?”
The headache was coming back. Arenadd gritted his teeth. “This is war, Mother. People die in war. I don’t like it, but it’s necessary.”
“If you don’t like it, then don’t fight!” said Annir. “Don’t start it. Don’t go to Malvern.”
His head was pounding. “Well, what d’you suggest, then?” he said, more sharply than he had intended to. “What did you have in mind?”
She clasped his hand in both of hers. “Leave!” she urged. “Get out of here, go as far away as you can.”
“What, run away like a coward? Let them win?”
“It’s common sense!” said Annir. “If you leave—if
we
leave—then nothing will happen. No war, no killing. For gods’ sakes, do you honestly think you can win this? Against Malvern? Against griffiners?”
“I can, and I will.”
“But . . . Arren . . .” Annir calmed down a little. “What if they catch you again? What then? You’ve already been caught once, and next time you might not be so lucky. What if you are killed?”
“I won’t be.”
“But how do you know?” Her face was pleading. “I’ve already lost you twice. If something happened to you again, if . . . if you were lost and didn’t come back, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Arenadd felt a faint ache in his chest, where his heart had been. “I understand. I do. My powers will protect me, Mother. They have before.”
She looked away. “I don’t understand this. None of it. How could the Night God have given you this—this
magic
? How could you be this . . . chosen one?”
“She’s a god.” Arenadd’s voice was full of bitterness. “Gods can do whatever they like.”
“But how could she have spoken to you? How do you know it wasn’t just Skandar who gave it to you?”
He gave her a terrible look. “So, you think I’m mad, do you?”
“No!” said Annir. “I don’t. That’s not what I meant. I only . . .” She looked up. “So, that’s it, is it?” she said abruptly. “You’re doing this because you believe a god told you to do it.”
“I’m doing it because I have to,” said Arenadd. “These people need me; I can’t turn my back on them.”
“You’re willing to kill people?” said Annir. “You’re willing to become this . . . this
Shadow that Walks
, this Dark Lord?”
Arenadd pulled his hand out of hers. “I’m those things already, Mother. Whether I want it or not. And I don’t care how many people I kill. They don’t mean anything to me. They’re enemies, and my enemies die—including the Bastard and anyone else who stands in my way.”
Annir stared at him in silence for a few moments, and Arenadd stared back. The words had come out without any warning, without his even thinking, as if someone else was speaking for him. He watched Annir, wanting and not wanting to say something else, to try to explain himself, but nothing came to him.
Annir stood up. “You are not my son,” she said quietly and left the room.
14
 
Treasures
 
S
kandar circled high over the city, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his wings. His joints felt stiff and sore, which made him clumsy in the air, but he ignored the urge to return to the ground and rest. He
wanted
to feel the ache in his wing joints, wanted to exert himself as much as he could. It was an escape, one he didn’t want to lose.
He had been furious when Arenadd had told him he shouldn’t fight in Warwick, and it had taken a lot of persuasion to make him agree. This fight had to be a small fight, a quiet one. And besides, there would be no other griffins for him to fight. There had only been one in the city, and she hadn’t put up a fight. Arenadd hadn’t even dared to mention the real reason for Skandar’s exclusion: that after using so much magic he was simply too weak to risk a fight. Those lingering feelings of exhaustion had been the only thing that had made him give in, and once he had taken cover in Retha’s nest he had slept through most of the fighting.
In his dreams, the white griffin had come once again. She was light and slim, but though she was smaller than him there was something about her that made her look bigger. Her feathers and fur were extraordinary, so white they seemed to glow in the blackness. But she had only one eye; one was silver, and the other a black hole.
You . . . griffin,
Skandar rasped. His voice sounded like an echo inside a cave.
She dipped her head to nibble at the feathers on his neck.
I am whatever I want to be
.
What you?
said Skandar, not understanding.
The white griffin raised her wings, opening them toward him. They glowed silvery white, from within.
I am the night,
she said.
I am the moon, I am the stars, I am the shadows
.
Not griffin?
said Skandar.
Griffin, human, spirit, magic,
she said enigmatically.
I am
Kraeae ee ra ae o.
Skandar knew that when a griffin died, something would come to take away his magic and return it to nature.
I die?
he asked, almost nervously.
Not now. I protect you
.
You protect?
She flicked her tail.
You are the Night Griffin, and I rule the night. I rule you. It is from me that your magic came
.
You give magic?
Yes. I chose you while you were in the egg, Skandar. If I had not touched you then, you would have been brown like your siblings, and small. You would not have the wonderful powers you have used. You have done well so far, Skandar. You found the human chosen for you and guided him to his death. You used his body to create
Kraeai kran ae
, my avatar, and brought him to my land where I could reach him and you
.
You speak with human?
said Skandar.
I have spoken to him, and told him the truth. He has now accepted his role to do my bidding, with your help
.
Why help?
Skandar’s tail began to twitch.
Why do what you say do?
She chirped and batted at his head with her forepaw.
You are a griffin, Skandar, and you and I have more in common than you think. You do nothing unless there is benefit in it for yourself, and I know this, for I am the same
.
Same?
Yes. Listen, Skandar. I know your desires, and I will give them to you
. She drew herself up, terrible and regal in the blackness.
You and your human together are all but indestructible. You have the power to gather humans to you to fight on your behalf, and you can destroy the griffins at Malvern and take their land for yourselves. Would you like that, Skandar?
Skandar’s tail twitched faster.
Land? Big territory?
Bigger than any griffin’s in the world, Skandar. Forests, rivers, plains and mountains. Humans to bring food and make the finest nests for you, and beautiful stones for you to own—stones that shine like the moon. You will have respect, and humans and griffins will dip their heads before you and call you master
.
Want,
Skandar said instantly.
Want that. Want all
.
And you shall have it, Skandar. All of it. But first you must do something for me
.
Do what?
He bristled, instantly suspicious.
Nothing that will be hard. You and Arenadd can take your reward, but there is someone who can stop you and take all of this away
.
I kill,
said Skandar.
That is exactly what you must do. There are three humans who must die. They are the family of Rannagon, the man you and Arenadd killed at Eagleholm. One of them is
Aeai ran kai.
That human has the power to kill Arenadd and will not rest until it is done
.
Not kill me?
said Skandar.
Aeai ran kai
seeks to destroy Arenadd, not you, but you do not need to fear for your human. Gryphus’ chosen cannot win the fight against
Kraeai kran ae
; he will die. Skandar, your task will be to help Arenadd find and destroy these three humans; he will know who they are and where to find them
.
Why help?
Skandar asked sullenly.
I find,
I
kill
.
Leave your human to fight other humans,
said the white griffin.
You have your own foe
.
What foe?
said Skandar.
There is a griffin living at Malvern. His name is Kraal. Most call him the Mighty Kraal. He is master of the North now, and he is powerful and wise. You must kill him to win this land for your own
.
Skandar’s talons flexed.
I kill,
he said.
Where find?
At Malvern. Arenadd cannot hope to fight Kraal on his own; you must do this yourself. Do this in my name, and you will be rewarded
.
I kill,
Skandar promised.
Find Kraal. Kill. Kill!
But do not forget this,
said the white griffin. Suddenly she looked much bigger, almost towering over him.
You must protect your human, Skandar. Protect him at all costs. Do not lose him; do not betray him. If he dies, you will have nothing. A griffin without a human has no status; he is nothing but a wild animal to be hunted. With Arenadd beside you, your future will be assured . . . and the rewards will be great
.
I stay,
said Skandar.
Protect. Not let leave
.
That is all I ask, Skandar
.
She walked away from him and lay down, her limbs suddenly stiffening. Blood ran from her beak before she became still. Skandar got up and went to inspect her, and as he stepped forward the shadows faded away and he realised he was awake again. In front of him was the dead griffin, smelling of cooling flesh and blood.
Skandar let his hunger take control and settled down to eat with barely another thought. But as he tore into the carcass, he smelled something else in the air: the lingering scent of a living human. A human he knew. Arenadd had been here recently. Watching over him.
I will eat and become strong again,
he told himself.
Then I will find Kraal at his nest and kill him. Arenadd will help me
.
He recalled that thought now as he flew, and that same certainty came back. Yes. The white griffin had helped him and was a friend. Arenadd knew about her, too—he had talked about destroying Malvern. He
must
know; she had spoken to him as well.
The idea fitted comfortably into Skandar’s simple thought process. He would fight his enemies again and take their land for himself, with Arenadd’s help. The human was clever. He could make good plans.
Skandar sent out a screeching call and executed a fantastic swoop and twirl in midair, just for the sake of it. His wings felt stronger every moment.
 
 
T
orc heard the screech from down in the city. After the meeting he had helped his adopted father find an empty room to sleep in for a while, and now that was done he was left to his own devices.
He wandered along a corridor, thinking. There should be food in the kitchens, and even though he wasn’t particularly hungry he decided to go there anyway. He had spent more than thirteen years as a slave, and the novelty of being able to eat as much as he wanted was one that hadn’t worn off yet.

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