Best Knight Ever (A Kinda Fairytale Book 4)

by Cassandra Gannon

  There was a pause, like Midas saw the problem. “Yes.” He said quietly. “He will.”

  “And I cannot give him that.” Trystan rubbed at his temple, his insides roiling. “Gryphons are born without feelings. We do not have True Loves. I do not possess what he needs and he will soon see that.”

  “Your people are generally born without feelings.” Midas allowed and then his tone became more pointed. “Generally.”

  Trystan froze.

  “Some of you have them, though, even if you don’t admit it. Some of you can feel everything, if you try hard enough.” Midas paused. “…Can’t you?”

  Trystan stared at the wall of the phone booth, saying nothing to his brother’s question.

  Midas continued undaunted on the other end of the line. “I’ve seen a gryphon almost smile when he’s bickering with my wife, and allow my daughter to put sparkly bows in his hair, and protect my life before his own, simply because his devotion to us is a part of him.”

  “You are my clan.” Trystan whispered, his heart pounding.

  “You are mine, as well. You would be my clan, even if you had no emotions. But Trystan, you do have them. I’ve seen it more and more since Avi and Gwen came to us. I’ve seen you with them and your feelings are crystal clear to me. I don’t know how you got them, but the emotions are there.”

  Trystan’s lips pressed together. “My grandfather was your kind.” He muttered at length.

  Midas made a sound of frustrated surprise. “And you’re just mentioning this.”

  “Yes.” It was not something he often thought about. His grandfather had simply been his grandfather. “I am not sure what land he came from, exactly. He wandered into gryphon territory and my grandmother decided to keep him.”

  Her preference for wingless men might explain why Trystan was so drawn to Galahad. Maybe this warped attraction to their baffling species was in his DNA.

  “My grandfather was a great man, who taught me much.” He went on, his memories filled with special moments between them. Like most of the adults in Trystan’s childhood, his grandfather had been protective and doting. “I believe I am the only gryphon who ever learned to swim and it was because of him.”

  Generally, gryphons couldn’t swim. Trystan hadn’t been lying when he told Galahad that fact. But Trystan’s grandfather had insisted that he acquire the skill. The old man had cared deeply about keeping Trystan safe, so he’d imparted all the lessons he could. Trystan now did the same thing with Avi.

  “Your grandfather sounds like a wonderful person.”

  “He was a skilled warrior. As am I. He had brown eyes and I also have brown eyes.” Trystan hesitated. “He had emotions.”

  “And you have emotions, too.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I don’t know.” Trystan ran a hand through his hair. “Perhaps. I have never really considered it.”

  Something was inside of him and it was growing bigger. It had always been there in the background, but he’d really started noticing it when he’d met Midas. It had gotten worse with Avi and Gwen around. The pull to be with them and see them safe and content. At first, he’d been able to explain it away as simply --finally-- having a clan of his own to care for. With Galahad, though, the somethings inside of him were worse. Stronger than he’d ever experienced.

  “How do I know how many feelings I should have? Or what they mean, if I do have them?” Trystan demanded, not liking how irrational these somethings inside of his mind and heart seemed. He liked to be in control, but they were driving his actions, now.

  “Your grandfather didn’t explain any of this to you?”

  “No. Perhaps he planned to, but Yellow Boots killed him and I was sent to the zoo. So I ask you: How can I know what I feel and what I don’t?” It irritated Trystan how… intangible it all seemed. He wanted to deal with things he could identify. Things that made sense. “There are not even words in this language to describe different feelings. How can I even know what something is, if I have no term to describe it?”

  “Use the common tongue. You speak that, too. Try and place your feelings into those words.” Midas switched back to his own language. “Joy, sadness, love…”

  “Love?” He scrubbed at his eyes, knowing it was hopeless. Whatever paltry emotions Trystan had, they couldn’t sustain something that big. They weren’t good enough. It was obvious. “Shit. I cannot do this. You know I can’t.”

  “If you try to deal with these feelings, you’ll succeed. You are the best, Trystan. The best at everything you do.”

  Trystan grunted, conceding that point. “This is true.”

  “Don’t fuck this up.” Midas continued. “If you’ve found ha’na, then it’s a gift. You need to calm down and…”

  “The knight is the problem here, not me.” Trystan interrupted, not wanting to hear more of what he didn’t want to hear. “If it’s fucked up, it’s his fault, not mine. I have been the soul of conciliation, while he does nothing but irritate.”

  “By all accounts, the man is naturally, inexplicably, singularly exceptional at everything he does. Obviously he irritates you. He irritates me and I’ve never even met him.”

  Trystan frowned, not appreciating that remark. “Galahad is not that irritating.” He muttered defensively. “He cannot help his many talents.”

  Midas started laughing.

  “It’s not funny, asshole.” Trystan pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “The knight asked me what I dreamed of and I said I wished to kill my enemies. But I am not sure that’s really the answer. Why am I not sure of something that should be so clear?”

  “If Galahad’s turning you off your stupid revenge mission, then I’m on his side.”

  “Nothing will turn me from my mission.” Trystan snapped, meaning it. “And Gwen is the one who sent me into this confusing mess. It is all a deliberate plot on your woman’s part to drive me mad. You know that, yes?”

  “Oh, I’m sure matchmaking was her stretch-goal. But Gwen could’ve given Galahad to anyone and she gave him to you. She just handed you the World’s Most Eligible Bachelor on a silver platter, so you really can’t complain.”

  “Have you not been listening? I have many complaints about this man she chose for me.”

  There was a display of coats, next to the phone booth. The sign above them read: “Sale! Down-Filled and Enspelled with Protective Magic.” Trystan began flipping through the rack, looking for a garment large enough to fit the knight. He would need a coat as they neared St. Ives.

  “Seems like you’re the one choosing him.” Midas hesitated again. “You know that Galahad led the Battle of Legion, right?”

  Trystan’s jaw tightened, anticipating what his brother was going to say. “Yes.”

  “As perfect as Galahad seems, the King’s Men were monsters and he was a part of it.”

  “I do not understand all that happened that day, but Galahad is not a monster. I know that, Midas. He has the same crazed idealism that Gwen possesses.” Trystan paused. “Speaking of Guinevere, I warn you now, the two of them will be impossible to reign in when they are together. We will need to establish rules or Camelot will quickly become a recycling plant. Galahad spent four hours yesterday lamenting the horrors of ‘micro-plastics.’”

  “It’s hilarious you think we can lay down rules. Is that working out for you with Galahad? Like at all? Because Gwen would just laugh at me, if I tried.”

  Trystan made a face, admitting the truth. “No. It does not work. I am keeping the knight tied to a horse and he still won’t listen to reason.”

  “You’ve tied him to a horse?” Midas echoed. “Fucking hell, Trystan… That’s how you romance your ha’yan?”

  “I am trying to keep him alive! He would wander off into the desert, if I did not have him safely tethered. I’ve watched him become distracted by a pretty flower and ride in a complete circle.” Trystan picked out a coat and held it up to check the size. “That literally happened. The man is alive only by the grace of the god
s.”

  Midas sighed. “Galahad is an actor.”

  “Debatable. Have you seen his show?”

  “An actor could trick you into seeing a lightness inside of him that’s not really there.”

  Trystan snorted, even though he’d considered the same thing when he’d first met Galahad. “The man once refused to kill a poisonous sand-eel, because ‘it might have a family.’ Trust me. He’s dismally Good.”

  “He’s still a knight.” Midas persisted. “Are you really okay with that? You fought his kind for years, Trystan.”

  In his mind, Trystan again saw Galahad falling into pieces after defeating Ayren’s men. Saw his horror and shame. Saw a warrior, like himself, who had witnessed far too much, in battles not of his choosing, and now wished for a brighter life.

  “Different men fought in the War.” He accepted Galahad’s words on the matter, as he had no better ones. “I would not want you to know all that I did in combat, Midas. I would not want Gwen and Avi to ever hear the tales. You would look at me with changed eyes.”

  “Nothing you ever did, or could ever do, would change the love we feel for you, Trystan. You are our clan. You never need to feel a moment’s concern about that.”

  Trystan shut his eyes and leaned his forehead against the side of the phone booth. Inside of him, the morass of unidentified somethings warmed at Midas’ words. He wanted to say something warm back to him, but he didn’t know how.

  “I like Galahad.” Midas went on. “In theory. He guarded my wife from her asshole first husband, so that’s a big plus in his column. If he is your mate, then I will help you win him. You know that. I’m just saying, you’ve claimed a complicated ha’yan for yourself.”

  Trystan looked back towards the door. Still no Galahad. Perhaps he was avoiding Trystan, now. Was irritation an emotion? If so, he could definitely feel it.

  “I have yet to claim the knight.” He grumbled. “I have not fully committed to this path.”

  If Trystan claimed the man, Galahad would own a piece of him that could never be taken back. Trystan had already lost two clans. He knew what it was like to be left all alone. Losing his mate would cripple him and the knight was so… ephemeral. Galahad could slip between his fingers and back into mist, at any time. Then Trystan would be forsaken in a world without his magic, forever searching for what he couldn’t hold.

  Midas sighed in a commiserating way. “The path is already beneath your feet, brother. All you can do now is follow it. That’s how ha’na works. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

  Trystan frowned, refusing to accept the truth of Midas’ words. His contradictory thoughts wished to both grasp Galahad tight and also resist claiming him. It made no sense. He knew it and still he continued on. “I am considering many options.” He reiterated firmly.

  “What options?” Midas sounded exasperated. “You get one mate. You’re confusing yourself with something that’s very simple. When you look at Galahad do you see everything?”

  Trystan’s jaw ticked, that shadow of fate flickering in his mind.

  “Because, if you do,” Midas continued smugly, “then the only ‘options’ are mating with the handsome movie-star who says he has ‘true’ feelings for you or spending the rest if your life alone and miserable. I just don’t understand how that’s a hard choice.”

  Trystan snorted. “Because you have yet to meet the knight.”

  “Was that a joke? Are you telling jokes, now?”

  “I wish to speak to Avalon.” Trystan decided, rather than answering. He hung the coat up on the door of the phone booth, so he could buy it if and when the shopkeeper returned. “I am tired of listening to you. I would hear her voice before I hang up.”

  “I genuinely have no clue what Galahad sees in you.”

  “Would you shut up and put the child on the phone?”

  Midas saw that simple request as a learning opportunity, because he was a jackass. “Why do you want to talk to Avi? Try to think of the word for your feelings.”

  “Oh for Lyrssa’s sake…”

  “Just try it, Trystan. What could it hurt?”

  Trystan took a deep breath, scrounging the recesses of his mind and heart for a clue. Humoring Midas, for no logical reason. Nothing would happen. It was all a waste of time.

  Even as he thought that, though, Trystan also knew that Galahad would not want someone who didn’t feel enough somethings for him. The wingless prioritized emotions in their mates. If he didn’t figure this shit out, Galahad would choose another male to irritate.

  Trystan closed his eyes, forcing himself to concentrate.

  “Trystan?” Midas prompted, after a while. “You still there?”

  “I… have not seen the child in weeks.” The somethings were connected to his thoughts about Avalon. Telling him information. If he listened, they began to form into words. “I do not like being parted from her, for so long. She will do many cute things and I will not see them. She will need me and I won’t be there. She will forget me.”

  “Avi won’t forget you.” Midas assured him distractedly, sounding excited by Trystan’s dismal attempt at feeling feelings. “Now, what emotion do you think all that is?”

  “I… um…” Trystan floundered for a beat. P’don, this was hard. He squinted, focusing with all his strength on deciphering the somethings. “I… miss her?” It came out as a guess, but he suddenly knew it was true. “Yes. I miss Avi. I miss you and Gwen. I am not content to be separated from you.” He searched for the right word to describe his restlessness. “I am unhappy when I am away from home. Yes. Unhappy without my clan to care for.”

  A long pause. “My God…” Midas finally breathed in amazement.

  “Is that wrong?” It was probably wrong. He knew it would be.

  “No! No, it’s not wrong.” Midas sounded ecstatic. “You actually did it! Trystan, you just felt an emotion and identified it! No other gryphon has ever done what you just did. Do you know how incredible it is?”

  Trystan rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortably. That had been difficult and strange. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “I wish to speak to the child.” He reiterated.

  “Alright.” Midas agreed, still dazed. “Hold on, I’ll get her.” He must have tilted the phone away from his mouth, because his voice became muffled. “Princess? Come here. Trystan is on the phone for you. He says he misses you.”

  Avalon was apparently in the room with him. No great surprise. Midas was Avi’s first best friend. She spent most of her time playing with dolls under her father’s desk, drawing all over his possessions, and otherwise wrapping him around her little finger.

  “Hi, Trystan!” Her perfect little voice came on the phone and Trystan’s tension melted away. “Yous far away, in a sandy place!”

  “I know.” He agreed, his tone growing softer. “It’s a desert.”

  Hearing the child calmed him. Knowing that she was safe and that she remembered him. He didn’t care what Midas said, he wanted to be sure.

  “Yous in a mean town, too.” He could picture Avalon’s blonde ringlets bouncing as she bobbed her head. “Mean people is running it. Gal won’t like them.”

  “I have no doubt. We’re leaving here very soon, though.”

  “To go find the treasure?”

  “No. That madness was the knight’s initial plan, but I talked him out of it.”

  “You did?” Avi sounded surprised. And honestly, now that Trystan considered it, it was strange that Galahad had given up his mission so easily. The man was not usually so reasonable.

  He frowned. “Galahad has not spoken of his treasure hunt in days. He accepted my decision not to help him die in some mad scheme and the matter has been laid to rest.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course.” Trystan had been sure, anyway. Now he weighed the chances that Galahad was still plotting something stupid. “I will talk to him, again. Do not concern yourself. I will keep Galahad safe.” No small feat given the man attracted trouble like porrid
ge attracted bears.

  “And he’ll keep you safe.” Avi chirped. “Then yous can both find the big glass bubble!”

  Trystan’s mouth curved ever so slightly. “Yes. I will find your gift soon. I promise.” How hard could it be to locate a glass ball of some kind? They were surely sold in many shops. Trystan had already set his mind to the task and what he set his mind to he readily accomplished.

  “’Kay. I love you!”

  The somethings didn’t feel messy or confusing. Not with her. “Watch over our clan for me.” He ordered softly and knew he should hang up. Instead, he took a deep breath. “Avi?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is Galahad truly the best knight ever? You saw this?”

  “Oh yeah, Trystan. He’s going to help break the curse.”

  A feeling of… relief flooded Trystan. Fisher had said that no one was the ya’lah, but Trystan would put his faith in Avi and Galahad. The child was always right and Galahad was special beyond understanding. Maybe there was still a chance for some kind of future for the gryphons, if the knight fought for them. Maybe if he picked up a sword…

  Avi’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Gal’s not good at making friends, though.”

  “I noticed that.” Half of the man was always in some other realm, so it was little wonder. “I believe it is because he does not try to connect with people. I have told him so.”

  “Well, he is really not trying, right now.”

  Trystan froze, his gaze once again scanning for the knight and not spotting him. “Now?” He repeated, hoping he was misunderstanding her. “He’s not making friends, right now?”

  “Oh yeah. A lot.”

  P’don.

  Trystan dropped the phone, racing for the front of the store.

  “Bye-bye, Trystan!” He heard Avi call over the dangling receiver, her voice still cheerful. “Be careful of the other Galahad.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I am soooo glad to be out of Camelot, now. So glad I can live free, out here in Prendergast, remembering all the Good men who fought in the War.