by Tora Moon
Chariel sat in front of Aistrun in her dark, muted gray cloak. His arms wrapped around her, and his chin rested on the top of her head. He laughed at something she said. He was happier than Rizelya had ever seen him.
Chariel brushed a strand of charcoal-gray hair away from her face. It, and her dark-gray eyes, bound her to the Sanctuary. All children born with those characteristics were taken to the Sanctuary and never left. At first, Rizelya was certain, these children had looked too much like the Posairs’ ancient enemy, the Malvers, to be allowed to remain in the general population. Then, as time passed, it became a tradition.
But Rizelya doubted that Chariel, after having a taste of freedom, would go meekly back into the Sanctuary to hide away again. And this development with Aistrun made it even more unlikely. She was sure Aistrun would fight for Chariel and not let tradition get in the way of their love.
As Rizelya approached the group, she could see a pot of taevo and a pot of porridge bubbling over the fire.
“You’re just in time,” Blazel said to Rizelya, holding out a mug. His eyes crinkled at the corners from his smile. “Here.”
Rizelya reached for the mug, and Blazel’s fingers caressed hers for a moment before he let go. Inside, she did a jig of happiness. Perhaps with the others becoming lovers, Blazel would catch the hint. He passed out mugs of taevo to everyone else. Graak’s nimble talons gripped the mug as he sipped the hot, stimulating drink. Blazel scooped porridge into bowls and handed them around.
*I prefer meat to break my fast,* Graak said as he declined the porridge. *I’ll catch something along the way. It will be a long day of travel, and those grains wouldn’t stick to me for long.*
Rizelya was still eating when the booming she was beginning to connect with the flap of Phengriff’s wings filled the clearing. The platforms above them creaked and a rustling of wings heralded dozens of Phengriffs taking flight.
“They’re leaving us!” She put her bowl aside and pushed to her feet. Hands on her hips, she glared at Graak.
*No,* Graak said, rearing back a bit. His head feathers fluffed, making him look taller. *I’m still here and so are most of our flight. Moraak is going ahead of us to tell the king of your coming. King Zorlaak won’t be happy about your news. Better he hears it before you arrive. Safer, too.*
Rizelya sat back down and finished eating. Half an octar later, the tents were folded, the baggage was loaded on the multas, and the horses were saddled. Kymaya looked at Graak with wide eyes and shied away from him. So did the other horses. Tejen stepped in front of Kymaya, his attention never leaving Graak. Kressy stared at him for a long moment, then bleated at him and went back to grazing. Rizelya heard a strange warbling sound that she finally realized was Graak laughing.
Jaehaas whispered to each horse, but Kymaya snorted as if she didn’t believe him. He said something else, and this time Rizelya caught the edges of the images he was sending to Kymaya as he tried to convince the horse the large predatory bird in front of her was a friend.
*I don’t eat the horses of friends,* Graak said in a placating voice.
Rizelya noticed the qualifier. Apparently, so did Kymaya, since she continued to shy away from Graak.
*Okay,* Graak said, *I won’t eat any horses while you’re with us, nor will my friends. Satisfied?*
Kymaya nodded her head and let Rizelya climb into the saddle. Tejen still watched Graak but allowed Wisah to mount on his back. The other horses weren’t as stubborn, and Blazel, Aistrun, and Chariel were already mounted and ready to go.
*We’ll scout ahead of you,* Graak said. *Follow us.*
“Remember, old friend,” Blazel said, “we’re on the ground and have trees and boulders to go around. Try to find us a path we can follow.”
*I remember,* Graak growled.
He leaped into the air, and again Rizelya felt the push of magic as he lifted off. Watching him climb above the trees, she decided the Phengriffs used magic to help them fly. Their bodies were too massive for just their wings to hold them in the air.
She guided Kymaya from the clearing, and found a trail heading in the same direction as the Phengriffs, and followed it. The trees had high branches they didn’t have to avoid, and the path curved around the huge trunks.
Late in the afternoon they broke from the trees and rode into a wide valley. The snow was melting, making the ground wet and muddy. Graak and his flight flew over them in great lazy circles. Rizelya led the group into a gallop across the valley, praying the horses didn’t catch a hoof in a hole and tumble. They crossed without mishap and charged back into the forest.
Rizelya pushed the group hard, stopping only long enough to briefly rest the horses. It reminded her of the mad dash across Strunlair Province just a few short chedans ago. It seemed as if all her travels now were rushed.
They stopped for the night in a clearing, and the huge trees surrounding it provided roosts for the Phengriffs. The next morning they were off again before the sun’s first rays brightened the world. They continued the relentless pace for two more days.
On the third evening, they stopped in a clearing where steam from a hot spring formed a mist. Rizelya slid exhausted from her horse. Jaehaas lifted Wisah from Tejen’s saddle. She whimpered, not used to such a grueling pace. Aistrun helped Chariel while Rizelya and Blazel set up camp. They fell into an easy rhythm and soon tents were raised, the fire was going, and food was heating.
Graak backwinged to land in the clearing; the wind of his wings tossed sparks and dirt into the air. *We’ll arrive at Alkaak tomorrow. It isn’t far from here. Rest well tonight, my friends, and take advantage of the hot springs. You’ll be presented to our king tomorrow.*
Rizelya nodded. Graak settled by the fire, and while they ate, he continued, as he had every night of their journey, to drill them on the proper protocols of attending the king. Rizelya ducked as Graak’s wing lashed out to thump Blazel on the head.
*No, that isn’t correct,* Graak said. *Again. More carefully this time, and don’t mangle the words.*
“I thought he understands Posarian?” Blazel said as he rubbed the back of his head.
*He does.*
“Then why do we have to greet him in your language?”
*Because it’s protocol! You once knew our language. Why is it so difficult for you now?*
“It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken it or heard it, Graak,” Blazel said. “It isn’t an easy language for us.”
Graak pointed his beak at Chariel. *You, say the words.*
“Oolk keee shree neekalaaak,” Chariel said, dropping her head.
Rizelya and the others stared at Chariel. She had even managed all the little screeches and clicks correctly.
*Now you try, Blazel,* Graak ordered.
Blazel again mangled the words. So did Jaehaas, only he was worse because he added whinnies and snorts like a horse. Aistrun had the words right, but missed all the screeches and clicks.
*Chariel, work with him,* Graak said in frustration. *At least one of you must greet King Zorlaak with the proper words.*
“Why can’t Chariel do it?” Rizelya asked. “She can already say it correctly.”
Graak sighed in a whistle of breath. *Unlike you, in our society only males are seen as leaders and can be heard. The king will expect a male to be leading your expedition. It is good Aistrun is the one who butchers our language the least. He is your Silver Beak, your storyteller. We value our Silver Beaks and listen to their wisdom. Our king will give him honor.*
Aistrun sat up straighter and preened. Rizelya rolled her eyes. He’d be insufferable until she smacked some sense into him. She listened as he said the greeting over and over with Chariel and Graak correcting him. After several such corrections, Aistrun growled, stood up, and paced around the campfire. As he passed behind Rizelya, she could hear him muttering the phrase under his breath. He made two circuits, then stopped in front of Graak. Aistrun bowed, his arms held out wide, his cloak almost looked like wings behind him. He cocked his h
ead to the side, one eye on Graak, and said the greeting. Graak’s beak opened wide in what passed for a grin.
*Well done, Aistrun,* Graak said. *Now the king won’t eat you.*
Aistrun stood up fast, his arm going furry, his sharp claws extended, and his eyes glowed as he lunged toward at Graak. Rizelya hadn’t known he could shift only one part of his body. Only the very skilled—mostly old men like Histrun—had that skill.
Blazel leaped across the fire and put his hand over Aistrun’s. “There’s no need for that. He was just teasing you.”
Graak shrugged his ruffled feathers back down. *The king does not tolerate foolishness. This way, he will listen to you before making any rash decisions. We can only hope he has taken Moraak’s warning seriously. Get some sleep. We’ll leave later in the morning than usual.* Graak leaped into the dark for his roost in the trees.
* * *
The tweeting of birds going about their morning routines woke Blazel up. The tent was still gloomy, but he was able to make out Jaehaas still sleeping, his soft snores filling the tent. Aistrun was gone—as he’d been each morning the last few days—spending the night in the women’s tent with Chariel. Blazel grimaced as he recalled Aistrun’s satisfied smile as he left the tent, his arm wrapped around Chariel’s shoulders. Jaehaas and Wisah were spending quite a bit of time together too.
He recalled Rizelya’s beautiful smile as she sauntered away from him, her luscious body calling to him. It wasn’t just lust that drew him to her, but her intelligence, quick wit, and loyalty to her friends. Only his shyness, and his vow, kept them apart. He’d vowed only to have sex with someone he loved. And he was falling for the feisty Red. Today, he promised himself, today he would take Rizelya into his arms and hold her close. The one kiss he’d given her made him want her even more. He felt his manhood stiffen as he thought about her.
Groaning, he crawled out of his bedroll and rummaged in his bag for clean clothes. Then made his way to the hot pool near their camp. Across the clearing, Graak and the other Phengriffs splashed in another, larger hot pool. Blazel topped a small rise and could see Graak sprawled out in the pool, his wings wide, while smaller Phengriffs cleaned his feathers and fur. His friend had climbed in the hierarchy since he’d last seen him. Blazel chuckled to himself as he continued onto the Posairs’ pool.
Blazel shed his clothes and quickly slid into the hot water. He soaped down and slipped under the water to rinse. Now clean, he tipped his head back and floated on the water. His fantasies about being with Rizelya paraded through his mind.
He had been floating for several milcrons when he heard a soft, “Oh, my!” He flipped over, nearly drowning himself. Rizelya stood at the pool’s edge, looking amused. Behind her, coming toward the pool, were Chariel and Wisah. Blazel moved farther into the pool until his chin rested on the surface. The heat of embarrassment rose to cover his face.
He couldn’t hear what the women said, but their light laughter floated all too easily to him. His face burned even hotter. Suddenly his vision changed and he was paddling with four paws instead of feet and hands. Without consciously willing it, he had shifted to his wolf form, which he hadn’t done since just before the paether attack nearly three chedans ago. All it took to ruin his control was getting embarrassed by the woman he longed for.
As the women undressed, he swam away from them toward some bushes that would give him some cover, then he jumped out. He raced to where he’d left his clothes, snatched them up in his teeth, and ran into the forest to find a secluded spot. After shaking his fur of water, Blazel shifted back to human form and put on his clothes over his still-damp skin. Dressed, he hurried back to camp. Luckily, both Jaehaas and Aistrun were gone, so no one noticed his embarrassment. The fire was going and breakfast was cooking when Graak landed in the clearing.
“You’ve come up in the world, my friend,” Blazel said, looking up as he continued to stir the pot of porridge. “I saw you being preened.”
Graak stretched his neck and fluffed out his neck feathers. *I have. I’m now the flight leader. But I still end up finding strays, like you.*
“It’s a good thing you do because I wouldn’t be alive without you. Both times.”
*Two? What about the time with the skeaeter? I saved you then, too.*
“Ha! I had it. It was almost dead by the time you arrived.”
*It still had you wrapped up in its antennae, squeezing you to death.*
“But I had nearly severed its head.”
*I’ll give you that, my friend,* Graak said with a chuckle. *I still had to extricate you from it.*
Laughing, Blazel poured a cup of taevo for his friend.
Graak took it and settled on the ground, his tail curled around him, wings nestled along his back. *Do you trust this Rizelya? Is she telling the truth? Are the Malvers becoming active again after so many years?*
“The Supreme believes her.”
Graak snorted.
“And so do I.” Blazel looked away and said quietly, “I’ve seen what she has. On my way to the Sanctuary, I had a dream about a gaunt woman wanting me. When I woke up, I had been poisoned with Malvers monster toxin.” He shuddered and turned back to face Graak. “I believe it is the same woman who haunts Rizelya’s dreams.
“The Malvers didn’t die. Their monsters plague us and, from what Rizelya’s seen, the deaths they cause feed the Malvers somehow. Something has happened and they’re getting stronger. How else could they create the new control janack? I’ve fought them, my friend, and they are every bit as bad as Aistrun told you. I’ve known Chariel all my life. Her visions are never wrong. If she says there is madness coming to our world and we need our ancient allies, the Phengriffs, to survive it, then it will happen.”
“I don’t lie, Graak,” Rizelya said, standing behind them. Her wet hair dripped down her back. She’d traded her red leathers and woolen tunic for a finely woven turquoise top. The full sleeves were caught at her wrists with bands of rose-colored embroidery. The same geometric shapes were embroidered around the neck of the top. She wore a darker turquoise wide-legged split skirt that reached to mid-calf, and her black riding boots had been polished to a shine. Her brown eyes flashed in anger.
Blazel sucked in a breath at her beauty.
“I don’t have any reason to make up what I’ve seen,” she said. “I’m not a storyteller. I’m a fighter. This woman, and all her followers, want us dead. And when they’re done with us, they’ll be coming after you next.”
Graak pulled his head back and held up a placating talon. *I’m not calling you a liar, Rizelya, nor you, Chariel.* The others had followed Rizelya back to the fire. *You’ve convinced me of your truth. More importantly, you must convince King Zorlaak. But even if he doesn’t agree to the alliance, I can still come with you as an ambassador. Our own mystics have seen a time of trouble heralded by the appearance of a White Priestess in our lands. Now we have not one, but two, priestesses here. Just by your presence ladies my lord-king will listen to you.* He bowed to Chariel and Wisah.
They were dressed in the traditional garb of priestesses. Chariel wore a dove-gray gown with silver etching the neck, sleeve bands, and hem. A darker gray belt cinched her waist. She had braided her hair in the traditional priestess style with two small side-lock braids framing her face. Wisah was similarly dressed, but in a white dress that gleamed in the morning light. Around both of their necks hung an eight-pointed star with a small diamond in the center, signifying they were full priestesses of the Goddess. Even here in the Deep Mountains, the symbol was known and revered.
“I’ve not seen the witch as Rizelya has,” Jaehaas said, “but I have seen and fought the Malvers monsters. After a thousand years of sameness, their habits be changed. There has to be a cause for this, and I believe Rizelya has the right of it. I will add my own testimony to your king.” He too, had dressed in his finest. He wore a dark brown quilted jacket over a golden-bronze shirt. His beard was freshly cropped and his horse hide gleamed.
Aistrun
’s long red hair shone and he’d shaved his beard. His jacket and trousers were a darker turquoise than Rizelya’s and his shirt was a pale blue.
*Eat your breakfast,* Graak said. *Alkaak is but a short ride. You may leave your tents and baggage here. No one will bother them.*
Everyone ate carefully so as not to get their fine clothes dirty. Blazel hadn’t dressed in his formal clothes yet and quickly washed the dishes. Afterward, he went into the tent and changed. His only formal clothes were those given to him at the Haasneh Keep and were the Haaslair Clan’s colors, brown and yellow. His jacket and trousers were a lighter brown, and the yellow of his shirt and the embroidery on the jacket was butter yellow. He found a piece of leather and tied back his long dreadlocks at the nape of his neck. He rubbed a hand over his freshly shaved face before leaving the tent.
When he arrived at the picket line to get Lighzel saddled, her coat had been brushed until it shone and she was already decked out in her barding, as were the other horses.
Graak floated down to join them, wearing a wide leather collar that had been dyed a deep indigo blue and had embossed metal attached to it. The metalwork’s artistry was stunning. The fine collar signified his high rank in the flight.
They made a colorful parade as they exited the clearing. Graak paced beside them while the other Phengriffs soared above. They traveled on the well-worn path with the air of a procession.
The road led to a massive granite bluff. Huge Phengriffs circled above it. Once they caught sight of Blazel’s procession, their loud cries reverberated across the valley. A flight of smaller Phengriffs dove toward them, and Blazel caught sight of youngsters as they zipped over his head. A stone structure soared above the cliff. It looked even bigger than Strunlair Keep.
*The king’s palace,* Graak said, pointing to it. *It’s where we will meet him.*
“Hey, how will we get up there?” Aistrun asked, craning his neck to see the top.
*You will get a ride up. There are no stairs,* Graak chuckled. *We don’t need them.*
