The Gryphon's Lair

by Kelley Armstrong

  I inch to the left. The khrysomallos doesn’t notice—its full attention is on Dain. As they face off, I squint to get a better look at the injured wing.

  “Uh, Dain?” I say.

  He doesn’t answer. Just keeps glaring at the khrysomallos.

  “Part of an arrow is caught in its wing,” I say.

  He grunts. Or at least, I think it’s him. It might be the khrysomallos.

  “It was shot,” I say. Another grunt.

  “I’m going to wildly speculate here…”

  Dain definitely makes a noise at that.

  I continue. “Given our cool reception—and lack of assistance—from the family, I’m guessing they shot the khrysomallos. It swooped down to feed, and they spotted a golden ram in their flock and saw a golden opportunity. When it tried to take off, they shot it. Which grounded it, but now it’s really angry. That’s why we were called in. Not to help a wounded monster. To take away a furious one that’s scaring their livestock, which are all hiding in the barn.” I pause. “I don’t blame them.” Another pause. “The livestock, that is. I totally blame the farmer.”

  “Excellent,” Dain mutters. “I’m so glad you’ve worked out the khrysomallos’s history, princess. Do you think, if you’re done theorizing, you might actually sedate the blasted thing before it gores me?”

  “Oh, right.” I scramble for my pack. “I can do that.”

  He mumbles something under his breath.

  “As for being gored,” I continue. “Those are the wrong sort of horns for that.”

  “Princess…”

  “I’m getting the sedative. I can do that while talking.”

  “Or you can do it without talking.”

  “I’m calming your nerves.”

  A growl sounds, one that I’m 99 percent sure doesn’t come from Malric.

  “You’re happier when you’re complaining,” I say as I fill the syringe. “I’m giving you something to complain about.”

  Off to Dain’s other side, Kaylein chuckles. She’s been quiet so far. She’s armed and watching, but she’s been told not to interfere unless we’re in serious danger.

  “If you need my help,” she says, “I am here.”

  “We’ve got this,” I say. “I’ll sedate the beast while Dain holds its attention. He’s doing a very good job of that.”

  Another growl.

  “Just keep that up,” I call to Dain. “Growl, scowl, bare your teeth. Keep it occupied.”

  Still out of the beast’s line of sight, I ready the syringe and take a deep breath. Then I start forward, rolling my footfalls. Dain picks that moment to shift his stance. The ram pulls back, as if to charge…and it sees me.

  As the beast wheels my way, I calculate two options and I pick the less advisable one, as always. I let out a roar and rush at the beast, which startles it enough that it stiffens in surprise. With that, I see my path. Jab the khrysomallos, throw the syringe aside, and roll out of the way before it charges.

  A perfect sequence. Jannah would have been so proud of me.

  Dain, on the other hand, sees me charge and decides I’ve lost my mind.

  “Rowan!”

  The wind catches the word as he lunges onto the khrysomallos, just as I’m jabbing in the needle. I hit the plunger, only to see it’s embedded in Dain’s sleeve. I yank it out, sedative squirting, and I manage to slam it into the khrysomallos instead, emptying the rest as the beast smacks me with its horns.

  I told Dain that these were not goring horns. True. They’re battering horns, and when they slam into my stomach, pain explodes. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground and I cannot breathe, and Dain has me by the arm and he’s dragging me, which does not tickle.

  I catch sight of Kaylein and Malric facing off against the khrysomallos, and I manage to find enough breath to call, “No! I’ve sedated it! Just take cover!”

  They disappear from sight as Dain hauls me behind a feeding trough. He drops me so abruptly that my head slams against the wood. Jacko leaps onto my chest, long ears flattened as he chatters at Dain. Dain gives Jacko such a glare that I grab the jackalope, cradling him to my chest.

  “I wouldn’t hurt your blasted rabbit,” Dain snaps. “Stop giving me that look and tell him I just saved you. Twice. First, you charged the beast, and then you almost got trampled.”

  “I don’t need to be saved, Dain. What I need is a partner who trusts my judgment, which you do not.”

  “Then why’d you bring me along?”

  “Because we haven’t had much time alone together.”

  “You wanted to be alone with me?” He backs up, hands rising. “If you’re smitten—”

  “No!” I choke on a laugh. “Eww.”

  “Eww?”

  I glance at the khrysomallos, wobbly from the sedative.

  I turn back to Dain. “What I meant is that I’m not interested in anyone that way.” I touch his arm. When he yanks back, scowling, I say, “You’re swaying.”

  I take his arm again and push up the sleeve, ignoring his protests. There’s a red dot on his dark skin.

  “The sedative,” I whisper. “I thought the needle only caught your sleeve.”

  “I’m fine,” he says brusquely. “I can look after myself. Just stay out of my way and—”

  We both stop as the air cracks with the beating of wings. We look at each other.

  “The khrysomallos trying to take off?” I whisper. “Oh no.”

  I scramble up just as a shriek rends the air. A shriek that sets the hairs on my neck prickling.

  Gryphon. There’s a…

  I lift my gaze to see exactly what I expect. A gryphon. Only it looks much smaller than…

  “Tiera,” I whisper.

  She spots me and lets out a happy shriek of welcome. Another sound answers. A garbled trumpeting. I glance to see the khrysomallos stagger as it turns and sees me. It lets out another trumpet and charges, and Tiera shrieks again, this one a cry of pure rage as she dives at the khrysomallos.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Tiera, no!” I shout as I run from behind the feed trough, waving my arms. “Tiera. I’m fine. See? Dain! Drive the khrysomallos off!”

  Even as I say it, I remember him snapping at me to stay out of his way. He won’t help. He’s angry and—

  “Hey!” Dain shouts. “Baaa! Over here! Yeah, you, monster sheep.”

  The khrysomallos diverts course to charge Dain. Tiera swoops up mid-dive and circles instead, shrieking, as if not certain whether she should protect Dain or cheer the khrysomallos on.

  “Tiera!” I yell. “Come on, girl. I’m right here. Everything’s fine. Kaylein? Can you help Dain?”

  “I’m on it,” Kaylein calls back. “You just keep the gryphon away.”

  Jacko runs out, chittering at Tiera, who swoops playfully at him. Jacko takes off running, and she follows, her protect-my-human agenda forgotten. She really is a baby still, easily distracted.

  I glance over to see Kaylein, Malric and Dain surrounding the khrysomallos as it paws the ground, snorting. It’s swaying, too, but it isn’t the only unsteady one.

  “Dain?” I call.

  “I’m fine,” he says, his words slurring.

  “Kay—?” I begin, but before I can get her attention, Dain collapses.

  I run for him. The khrysomallos sees him fall and mistakes the sudden movement for attack. It charges. Its horns smash into Dain, who’s collapsed on the ground, still conscious enough to flail. One hand smacks the khrysomallos, and it makes that gurgling trumpet sound and bashes him again, only to tangle in its own legs.

  A cry rings out behind me. Tiera’s battle shriek. I grab Dain and flip backward as he flails. Then I realize Tiera is flying straight at the poor khrysomallos as it staggers to stay upright.

  “Tiera! No!”

  I dr
op Dain. I manage to knock the khrysomallos out of Tiera’s path as Malric lunges between me and the young gryphon. Tiera pulls up, shrieking and clacking at Malric.

  Jacko bounds from the pasture, trying to divert Tiera’s attention while she surveys the scene below.

  Does she think I’m in danger? Or does she think she’s stumbled onto a grand game? I have no idea. I just need to get her away from the half-sedated khrysomallos.

  The ram stumbles, and I grab it, which isn’t easy when it’s three times the size of a sheep. He falls onto me, and I laugh. It’s a strained laugh, but it’s all I can think of to convince Tiera I’m fine. It works. She flaps upward and then turns toward Jacko prancing in the grass.

  Then, just as she’s about to go play with her jackalope friend, something catches her attention. I glance over to see a flash of white. My brain whirls, Jannah and Berinon’s commands sounding in my ears.

  Don’t lose track of your troop.

  Do you know where everyone is?

  Is everyone okay?

  I’m struggling to do all that amidst the chaos, and when I see that white blob trot across the pasture, my brain blanks. That’s not one of my companions, human or monster, so what…

  It’s a young sheep, venturing out from the barn, as if called to adventure. From the barn, an older sheep bleats as if to say, “Get back here!”

  This is what Tiera sees. A young sheep, trotting our way. The perfect prey for a baby gryphon.

  She shrieks, a cry of victory, a cry of the hunt.

  I barely manage a syllable of her name before she strikes. She seizes the young sheep in her talons, and her beak chomps on the back of its neck. Then she hovers there, still holding the sheep, looking down at its limp body in confusion. Another shriek, this one the glee of a baby who has taken its first prey. She drops the sheep, pounces on it and begins to tear.

  I glance away as Kaylein hurries over to me.

  “It’s all right, princess,” she murmurs. “We’ll repay the farmer for the sheep, and at least Tiera will have eaten. You couldn’t have stopped her. She’s so fast.”

  There’s awe in Kaylein’s voice…and a touch of fear, too.

  She’s so fast.

  You couldn’t have stopped her.

  As the gryphon rips into her meal, I turn to the others. Dain sits with his head down as if struggling to stay awake. The khrysomallos lies on its side, finally sleeping. Jacko hops around me, chattering. Malric watches Tiera, and I swear he shakes his shaggy head, as if to say, “What are we going to do with you?”

  What are we going to do with her, indeed.

  I swallow and turn to Kaylein. “We’ll need to borrow a cart to transport the khrysomallos. I don’t know how Tiera escaped, but I can lead her. She listens to me.”

  Unless she spots prey. Unless she moves so fast I don’t have time to order her back.

  Another swallow. Then I straighten and head for Dain. His head lifts, dark eyes struggling to focus. He goes still. Blinks.

  “Rowan!” he says, and pushes up as if to rise.

  I follow his gaze. Behind me, another figure has appeared. It’s a boy, no more than five, walking from the farmhouse, his gaze fixed on Tiera bent over her prey.

  “Is that…is that a gryphon?” the boy breathes, and he doesn’t even look our way. He cannot take his eyes from her.

  The moment seems to freeze. A boy, no bigger than that dead sheep, walking fearlessly toward Tiera. She lifts her head, her gaze meeting the boy’s, her crimson-stained beak opening in a cry.

  Every muscle in my body spasms, my blood running cold, a scream bubbling up as I leap forward.

  I see what is going to happen. I see it as if it happens in the blink of an eye.

  She’s so fast.

  You couldn’t have stopped her.

  I’m still opening my mouth to scream, still stumbling toward them, when Tiera looks up, her feathers bristling, her tail whipping in warning as she spots the boy. She meets the boy’s gaze, opens her beak…and gives the smallest chirp of greeting before returning to her meal.

  That’s all she does. She glances up sharply, as if expecting a predator come to steal her dinner, but then she sees it’s a human boy and greets him and goes back to eating.

  The boy lets out such a squeal of terror that Tiera rises onto her hind legs, wings extending, bloody talons out. It’s the equivalent of jumping back in alarm, but the sight—the monstrous sight of this bloodied and terrible beast—only makes the child scream louder.

  Kaylein runs for the boy, calling that he’s fine, he’s just fine. He is. Tiera makes no move to attack. But she does shriek, matching his scream with her own.

  Someone races from the house, brandishing a pike. It’s the farmer, snarling at the gryphon, his weapon raised.

  Kaylein already has the boy. She’s scooped him up and he’s safe, was never in danger. His father doesn’t know that. He sees only this bloodstained monster rearing, its shadow falling over his screaming son.

  I race between them, my arms raised.

  “It’s fine,” I say. “Everything is—”

  Hooves thunder. A gray stallion charges over the hill. I catch only a blurry glimpse of the rider, and I don’t see him—I see his sword, the flash of it in the midday sun. I throw myself into his path, arms up, and I’m sure he sees me. He must see me. But he keeps coming.

  A snarl of rage sounds beside me. Then Malric hits me and Tiera at the same time, bowling us over.

  The rider thunders past…right where we’d been standing a heartbeat before. Malric snarls, his fur on end, and the rider shouts, “Call your hound to heel, girl!”

  “Girl?” Dain calls, at the same time as I say, “Hound?”

  Then I see who it is. Branwyne.

  She points her sword at Tiera. “Step away from that beast, girl.”

  “She’s the princess,” Dain says, tottering toward us.

  “Are you drunk, boy? Get back before I run you through.” Her gaze flicks my way. “If the princess wishes to claim the title of royal monster hunter, she needs to earn it. Until then, she’s a girl playing with her pets. You said so yourself.”

  Dain stiffens. “I—”

  “You told me she wasn’t fit to be anything but royal zookeeper.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  Branwyne looks my way. “He’s right. You’re too busy playing with beasts to hunt them. You can’t even latch your gryphon’s leg band properly. I saw her flying off, and I rode in pursuit, and what do I find? The beast about to kill a small child.”

  Dain scoffs. “Tiera looked at the boy. That’s all.”

  “That isn’t what I saw.”

  “It’s not what we saw either,” the farmer says, taking his child from Kaylein. His wife comes up behind him, nodding.

  “You saw me rescue your son, did you not?” Branwyne says.

  The couple bob their heads even as Kaylein and Dain both sputter that the boy was in no danger, and if anyone nearly died, it was me…under the hooves of Branwyne’s stallion. I say nothing. I can’t. I keep seeing that child in front of Tiera.

  I feel as if someone has pushed me into an icy lake. I need to fight and get my head above water, but all I can do is shiver. When a nose nudges me, I reach an absent hand, expecting to pat Jacko’s antlered head. Instead, my fingers touch long, thick fur, and I give a start as I glance up into Malric’s eyes. He nudges me again, less gently this time.

  I wobble to my feet. Tiera is busy eating the dead sheep. Kaylein argues with Branwyne and the farmer, while the boy huddles behind his mother’s skirts.

  I hear again what Branwyne said. That Dain told her I wasn’t fit to be anything but royal zookeeper.

  It’s the sort of thing he’s said to me, in private. I ignore it. Just Dain being cranky. But to say it to Branwyne?

  Why was
he even speaking to her? He knows how she feels about me, and he told her I wasn’t fit to be the royal monster hunter?

  He didn’t deny it either. He made no more than a weak protest.

  I shake it off and straighten. “Branwyne.”

  I have to repeat her name, louder, before she turns.

  “I thank you for following the gryphon. I will investigate how she got free.”

  “It’s obvious how she got free, Rowan. Her leg shackle wasn’t clasped…and you were playing with her this morning.”

  “I fed her this morning,” I say, as calmly as I can. “And walked her but—”

  “Fed and walked her?” the farmer says. “It’s a pet?”

  “She is a research subject.”

  “You keep a gryphon at the castle? A live gryphon?”

  “Not anymore,” Branwyne says. “This beast attempted to take the life of a royal subject. It’s clear what must be done, and if our so-called monster hunter won’t do it…”

  She swings off her horse and raises her sword, and it isn’t until she steps toward Tiera that I even understand what she means. Yes, like all of Clan Dacre, Branwyne is a trained monster hunter, but I’ve never thought of her that way. I’ve never even seen her with a sword in hand.

  I’m leaping forward to stop her when Dain lunges between Branwyne and Tiera.

  Branwyne laughs, a high tinkling sound that grates down my spine. “Move, boy. If you still hope for a job when I claim my throne, you’ll get out of my way now.”

  “It’s not your throne,” Dain says. “It will never be. Put that sword down.”

  “Lady Branwyne,” Kaylein says, her voice low. “Listen to Dain, please. I don’t know what you think you’re doing—”

  “I’m doing the job this child cannot. My brother couldn’t be here, and so I will personally rid my land of a beast that threatens my people.”

  “I’ll handle this, Branwyne,” I say.

  She glances at me. “You’ll kill the beast?”

  I try not to flinch. “No, I will return to the castle and put the matter to the queen.”

  “Who is your mother,” the farmer sneers as he walks forward. “She’ll believe you over us.”

  Kaylein shakes her head. “The council will handle this. They’ll weigh the evidence and our testimonies and—”