The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy) (5 page)

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Authors: K. J. Taylor

BOOK: The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy)
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Arenadd spat at the guard by the lever. “Pull the damn thing and be done with it.”
“Gryphus will burn you forever!” Erian shouted as the guard obeyed.
The trapdoor opened, and Arenadd fell. The noose pulled him up short with a hideous crack and a jerk, and after a brief struggle he hung there, swinging gently back and forth.
3
 
The Night God’s Promise
 
D
eath, for Arenadd, was darkness.
He felt the brief lurch of his stomach as the trapdoor gave way beneath him. Felt his neck break.
Heard
it—that sick, muffled crack. There was no time for pain.
He felt his body convulse as utter blackness swallowed him, and after that he couldn’t feel anything. His body and all his senses were gone, and the world around him became an icy void.
He floated through it in silence, drifting away from life and into absolute nothingness. But one thing had stayed with him.
The voice.
Arenadd. Arenadd. Listen to me, Arenadd. Speak to me
.
No sign of anyone. Only a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
Arenadd. You cannot run from me. You cannot hide from me
.
And, at last, he replied. “Go away.”
As if his words were a signal, the void changed, and he found himself standing—standing on a surface he couldn’t see, no different from the blackness all about.
And
she
was there.
She looked like a woman, a Northerner like himself. She didn’t seem to have an age. Her only clothing was a silver mantle that covered her shoulders and nothing else. In one hand she held a sickle. She held the other hand out, palm up, and there was the full moon, somehow floating between her fingers.
The Night God.
Arenadd tried to back away from her, but there was no space to do it. “I told you to leave me alone.”
I do not abandon my people,
the Night God said.
Even if you have done so
.
“You know I only wound up like this to save Skade and Saeddryn. And her friends.” Arenadd remembered something, and wrapped his fingers around his throat. “And now they’ve killed me. Again.”
You tried to kill the Bastard,
the Night God admitted.
I am pleased that you tried
.
“Tried, failed. Who cares? It’s not going to do me any good now.”
Faithless darkman!
She pointed the sickle at him.
I could have helped you, but you did not listen! Your mind was full of cowardice and doubt. You did not intend to obey me but to try and hide from me, as you have tried since boyhood to hide your own true self
.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arenadd said sourly.
You have lied to yourself long enough,
said the Night God.
You are a Northerner. The world would not let you forget, and neither shall I. Accept it
.
“I have.” Arenadd pulled up the sleeve of his robe, showing the spiralling tattoos. “I accepted it when I got these.”
Then accept me!
“Why should I? What did you ever do for me? I only ever prayed to you once, and you ignored me.”
I heard you
.
“And did nothing!” Arenadd raged. “I prayed to you; I asked you to save me!
And you let me die
. You let me fall hundreds of feet, break every bone in my body and then drown in my own blood! So forgive me if I don’t look overly impressed!”
The Night God’s expression did not change. She lifted the glowing white orb in her hand and placed it into the black hole where her right eye should have been.
Your death was inevitable
.
“You could have stopped it!”
No. There was nothing I could do
. The Night God’s other eye, her black Northern eye, stayed fixed on Arenadd’s face.
I am not a part of the solid world. All of my powers are wielded through my people. And that is why I chose you
. Her expression grew distant.
Many years ago, a man called Padrig was kept in the cell where you suffered. He was tortured until he was near madness, but he would not speak. Rather than betray his people, he ended his own life. In his final moments, he cried out to me. “Help us, Night God. Save us.” I hear every true prayer. I heard his. And I heard another voice. A young man called to me on the final night of his life. When he did so, I knew that a part of him had begun to long for me. And so I chose to give him my greatest blessing. My greatest trust
.
“I was scared witless,” Arenadd mumbled. “Of course I prayed. I couldn’t think of anything else by that point.”
And so, in your desperation, you came to me. And when I appeared to you at last, you swore to do my bidding
.
“What else was I supposed to do? I thought you would kill me if I didn’t.”
But you want to obey,
said the Night God.
You long to obey. I feel it in you
.
Arenadd said nothing.
The Night God smiled very slightly.
You still have a chance. Give yourself to me completely, and I will send you back. Commit to my cause, and I will give you all you desire. Love me, and I shall love you
.
“You mean I can go back? I can wake up?”
Yes. I will send you back, and your true powers will be unlocked. You will have another chance to kill your enemy and to destroy all those that have stood in your way
.
“And then?”
When you were a boy, you dreamt of becoming the greatest and most powerful griffiner ever to live. Fight in my name, and you shall have your desire
.
Arenadd began to smile. “My own Eyrie? A proper home for me and Skandar?”
And freedom for your people
. The Night God’s expression softened.
They suffer, Arenadd. Their lives are far harder than yours. You had power and privilege once; they have never had either
.
“I know that—”
The time has passed for you to think as a griffiner does, Arenadd. Fight for them . . . and so fight for me
.
Arenadd shook his head slowly. “You’re right. My life ended a long time ago. If I have to be this—this
thing
I am now, then I should use it. Try to make a difference again. What choice do I have, anyway? There’s nowhere else for me to go.” He looked up at her. “I’ll do it.”
Then swear yourself to me
.
He knelt. “I’ll do it. I hate the Southerners as much as you do. I’ll make them suffer for what they did to us. I’ll kill Rannagon’s bastard. I’ll set the North free and make it ours . . . master.”
Rise
.
He obeyed. “Now what?”
The Night God said nothing more. She reached out, pulled him toward her and took him in her arms. Then she kissed him.
Her lips were icy against his, and for a moment he tried to pull away—until he felt the power flowing into his body. Her lips were cold, but her power was colder. It filled him from end to end, rushing through his veins like blood, but it was dark and lifeless—and familiar.
As it moved in him, he felt his senses come back. Light touched his eyes, and he began to breathe. Before the void left altogether, he heard the voice of the Night God one final time.
Use the shadows, Dark Lord
.
 
 
W
hen Arenadd woke up, he felt wonderful. All the pain in his body had gone, and new strength had replaced it.
His eye opened, and the first thing he saw was the hated face of Erian looking down at him. The instant he saw it, rage gripped him. Erian the Bastard, who had become a griffiner in front of him and mocked his own disgrace. Erian, who had sold Arenadd’s parents into slavery. Erian, who had hunted him across Cymria and finally dragged him to Malvern and handed him over to be tortured and killed. Erian, the one his new master wanted dead.
All those thoughts flew through his mind in a moment. Then Erian saw him move.
His scream shattered the stillness as he reeled away, one arm flailing for a sword that wasn’t there.
Arenadd sat up—his hands were untied!—and was on his feet in an instant. He didn’t even bother to look around and see where he was. He ran straight at Erian, eye fixed on his throat.
Erian had turned sickly white. He stood and stared at Arenadd for one terrified moment before he pulled himself together and ran away.
Arenadd felt hands grabbing for him, but he dodged them and sped up. He found himself running into a familiar place: the same open space where the people had gathered to see him hanged. He had woken up underneath the platform before they could drag him away, and most of the crowd were still there. Erian plunged into their midst, pushing people out of the way in blind panic.
Arenadd followed, completely ignoring the guards on his tail. “Stop him!” he yelled at the bewildered people in his path. “Stop him in the Night God’s name!”
They moved out of his way very quickly, but if any of them tried to stop Erian they failed. He reached the shelter of the buildings and ran on, into the city.
But Arenadd’s fellow Northerners did help him. The guards, following close behind him, suddenly found that what had been a clear path wasn’t a path any more, and a moment later they were being tripped up and shoved from all sides.
By the time they had extricated themselves, Erian and Arenadd had disappeared.
 
 
E
rian had never been so terrified in his life. Unable to think, heedless of direction, he dived through a gap between two houses and sprinted down the street beyond, his mind full of nothing but the need to escape.
No matter how far or how fast he ran, it never seemed to be enough. All the while, along every street and around every corner, his enemy followed. Every time Erian glanced back, there he was, bounding over the cobbles like a hunting animal, never seeming to tire or to slow.
He made no sound. That was what made it worse. No grunts or gasps for breath. No footsteps.
Erian sprinted on, not even noticing the pain from his bandaged arm as it bounced against his chest. He searched desperately for a hiding place, but there was nothing. No place to go that wouldn’t mean being cornered. And Senneck was not there to help.
Arenadd was gaining on him. “Isn’t it fun, Bastard?” he called. “Running through the city, running for your life?”
Sobbing with fear, Erian ducked into an alley and hid behind a stack of boxes.
It did no good. He had barely begun to catch his breath when he heard the voice again, coming closer and closer.
“It’s a terrible thing, isn’t it? To be hunted. Running from place to place, knowing there’s no escape. Knowing what will happen when you’re caught. Because you can run from fear . . . but you can’t run from blood. Not your own blood.”
Erian listened, scarcely breathing. The voice was coming from the other side of the stacked boxes. He braced himself against the wall and pushed them over.
He heard a yelp of surprise as he ran out of the alley and away.
The boxes bought him some time—time to think.
Don’t try to hide,
he told himself.
Head for open spaces!
Senneck must be looking for him, and if she could see him, then she could help. It was his only hope now.
With that in mind, he went out into the street and ran straight down the middle, dodging oxcarts and people. Arenadd was quick to follow.
Shortly afterward, something strange began to happen.
Oxen, hitched to wagons or carrying loads, suddenly panicked and ran, trampling several people in the process. A herd of goats being driven along the street broke and scattered, fleeing in all directions. Everywhere in that part of the city, other animals reacted in the same way.
Birds flew up from the buildings in a cloud of whirring wings. Rats left their holes and skittered away. Dogs, trapped in houses and yards, lifted their heads and howled.
Erian hesitated very briefly, half-turning in mid-stride to see the chaos. But he saw Arenadd, still running toward him without seeming to notice, and quickly forgot about it. He tried to call for Senneck, but he had no breath left for it.
Ahead, a large building loomed. Its huge front doors were open, and to Erian they looked inviting. Safe.
He reached them and dived inside. Sheltering in the entrance, he turned and sent out his call as well as he could.
“Erian! Erian! Erian!”
His voice seemed weak to him, but he kept trying, even when he saw Arenadd coming and it began to waver.
Arenadd’s pace slowed. The expression on his swollen face was steady, calm. He charged.

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