by Laura R Cole
*
Layna let Jezebel's limp body to fall to the floor with a satisfying thud, and looked frantically around for the box. She spied it in the corner and hurried forward to grab it, cradling it to her chest. She looked up and down the hall, but it was deserted, and an eerie silence had descended over the manor. Layna followed in Charles' wake out through the back entrance and found him waiting for her, already mounted on Axe and holding Fly's reins ready for her. She jumped on and they spurred the horses, urging them to gallop as soon as they were out in open land. The horses seemed to pick up on their riders' excited states and matched their pace to fit with it.
“Did ya get him?” asked Charles once they were a good distance away and they had allowed the panting horses to slow.
“Yes,” answered Layna breathlessly. “Are you sure he's okay in there?”
Charles shrugged. “Better than he was with the demon lady. He might be agettin' a bit banged up, but he'll live.”
Layna didn't answer. Gryffon had been in pretty bad shape when she had slipped down into the cellar dungeon. Charles' plan had been that she would stow away with him as he was allowed into the manor under the guise of a minstrel by riding in his magic barrel.
He had shown her that not only was it the barrel she had seen him with in the marketplace, but it had another form as well. It could take on the appearance of a small box which could be concealed easily, and would hold just as much. Charles had tried to explain to her the mechanisms of the box, but it was beyond her realm of understanding. He attempted to liken it to a storage building somewhere else that the box was a dimensional hole to. He said that once she was there she would feel no different from simply being in a storage shed. Not particularly comfortable, but survivable. Layna had been doubtful, and hesitant to try and place her body into a magic container, but she had been assured that she would be fine. She had finally just flung out her hands in surrender, and decided to take his word for it.
She had ridden in this manner into Jezebel’s house, and upon Charles’ knock, had emerged while Katrina went to tell Jezebel of her visitor.
She had slipped unnoticed into the cellar, and found Gryffon in the same cell that she had occupied not all that long ago. Layna felt a twinge of guilt that she had not saved him as he had her.
He had been slumped against the wall, bleeding and bruised from dozens of injuries, his clothing in strips around him. A blackened and blistering wound was festering on his chest.
Layna had cried out at the sight of him, which had roused him. He had peered at her through one eye, the other too swollen to even slit open. His lips had cracked into a smile and he raised his eyebrows in a brief salute.
“Aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” he had said, “and when I say sore, I mean sore.” Layna had rushed to his side as soon as she had the door open, after melting the lock with magic fire. She had applied the few rudimentary techniques for dulling pain and speeding healing that Mila had shown her.
As soon as she was able to get him to move, she had urged him into the box and hurried back up the stairs to meet Charles outside. That's when Jezebel had tried to intercept her.
She shuddered, wondering what Jezebel would have done to her this time if she had gotten her hands on them again.
They reached the spot where they had hidden their belongings, and they dismounted to collect them up.
“We'll hafta take him out now,” Charles told her, “It's not really meant for an extended stay, you'd hafta spend the extra money to get a tent box for that.” Layna wasn't sure if he was serious or not, but decided not to ask and simply brought out the box to retrieve Gryffon. She reached inside, searching for his hand and she caught hold of it. She gently pulled him out.
He gasped for air and Charles winced, a guilty smile playing on his lips. “Whoops, might've left him in there a smidge too long.”
Layna stared at him wide-eyed. “I thought you told me it was perfectly safe!”
Charles shrugged. “Well, he's alright now so no biggie. Sheesh, you're captious. I'll take that back.” He snatched the box and turned his back on them, so Layna turned her attention to Gryffon.
“We have to ride out a bit farther in case she mounts a hunt for us. Do you think you're up for it?” she asked him compassionately.
Gryffon gave her a weak smile, marred by the condition of his face. He closed his one good eye briefly before opening it again to answer. “Well, not much choice. I think there’s little doubt that she’ll send someone out after us.” He sat up and winced. “I hate to say it, but I think I'll need to ride with one of you. I might pass out on the horse by myself, and I don’t think there’s an inch left on me for another bruise.”
Layna nodded. “We were going to have you ride with me so I can help you heal as we go. Mila wasn't able to teach me too much before she - but I can help you some.” She caught herself before mentioning Mila, she didn't want to add to Gryffon's pain just yet. She paused in thought a moment and then added, “I don't suppose you'd be alright with being tied on to the saddle? I'm not sure I could hold you if you passed out on me.”
Gryffon groaned good-naturedly. “Well, if I'm going to be tied up, at least it will be next to a beautiful woman.” Layna flushed and rose to cover her embarrassment, and dug out the rope from their bags.
She took a few extra minutes, despite Charles' annoyance, to clean and bandage Gryffon's wounds. Healing or no healing, she didn’t want them to get the chance to get infected. Besides, it would make him that much more comfortable and easier to handle during the ride.
Gryffon's moan of pleasure and relief as the healing salves absorbed into his wounds and the numbing effect took hold was reward enough for her, and she ignored Charles' smart remarks on the delay.
