by Laura R Cole
CHAPTER 22
Layna walked Fly along slowly as he picked his way through the snow covered ground. She didn't bother to wait up for Charles and Gryffon. Reason kept telling her that it was silly of her to be angry with Gryffon. After all, he really didn't do anything to her personally. He had whispered to her last night that he had been there to watch Jezebel and through her, her father. That Treymayne's interest in her family was the reason that he got caught up with the awful woman anyway. This had only further upset Layna, however, since he had just told her that the reason had been money. And maybe it was both somehow, that money had ended giving him a good excuse, but it still hurt her to know that he had been keeping things from her. And so easily and with such a straight face.
It made her wonder if they should trust anything that came out of his mouth. He had lied to her. Lied about who he was, and where he was from, lied that he was even a citizen of the country. Perhaps he was leading them towards Treymayne so he could sell them off as slaves. Old wives tales painted pictures of Treymayne as a cannibalistic, barbarian country whose occupants would eat your babies for breakfast. Layna rolled her eyes. She didn't really believe anything like that, but she –
Her thought was cut short by Fly suddenly lurching to a stop below her.
She realized with horror that while she had been daydreaming, they had walked out onto a waterway. She could see below where Fly's hooves had skidded, the snow had been scraped off to reveal patches of ice. And not very thick patches. As she watched, a spider web crack started beneath the hoof, and slowly spread outwards in little spurts. Fly whinnied, his eyes round and wide, and he swished his tail nervously.
She gently urged him to walk backwards, and he took one step and then another. Terror rushed through her with every cracking sound.
Then suddenly a hoof splashed through and Fly panicked, throwing her off his back as he turned heel and ran. He made it a few steps before crashing through the ice. Luck was with him, however, and the bottom was only a few feet down where he broke through. He used this to leap out to solid ground, limping along the shore.
Layna wasn't so lucky. She skidded across the ice where she had been thrown, unfortunately farther onto the frozen river. Her muscles all seemed paralyzed in place, and she watched Fly on the edge. He held his head low, and his breath came out in great billowing clouds of steam. She tried to keep her weight spread out, while keeping low to the ice, and she held her breath, waiting for it to give way beneath her.
After a few moments it still held, and she let out the breath, analyzing her situation. She was only about twenty feet from the edge, but it was already cracked, and water was beginning to seep up through at an alarming rate. Layna decided that the water underneath was likely moving at a good clip. Great, she thought to herself. She briefly thought about using magic, but since her only training so far had dealt with making fire and healing, she didn't see how that was going to help her. Well, I can't just lay here forever.
She started slowly belly-crawling towards the edge. She only made it about a foot before it suddenly gave way beneath her. Her breath was knocked out of her by the shock of the cold water enveloping her body. The last thing she heard as she slid backwards into the cold abyss was her name being called. I'm sorry Gryffon, she thought, slipping into unconsciousness.
When she woke she was snuggled deep in furs, and warmth was emanating from a body next to hers. In her semi-conscious state she cuddled up to it, and wrapped her arms around the warmth. She was surprised when skin hit skin. She jerked fully awake and realized that she was just about naked, and next to another body – which she now identified as Gryffon's – who was also scantily clad.
She lay frozen, unsure what to do when he spoke. “Layna,” he said softly turning his head to look at her. “Are you alright?” Layna nodded mutely and he started to move. “I'm sorry. I'll get out of here now. You were just so cold and you weren't warming up, I was afraid that if you didn't get warmed up soon...” he trailed off.
She put a hand on his shoulder, halting his movement. “Stay,” she said, giving him a weak smile, “you're warm.”
He settled back down awkwardly and they lay in silence for a minute. “I'm really sorry, Layna,” he said finally. “I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't think it would matter that I couldn't tell someone the whole truth. Lying to Jezebel and trying to find out what she was up to didn't matter. She's an evil person, I couldn't have cared less about betraying her. But I wanted to tell you so many times, I just didn't know how...” he trailed off again before repeating lamely, “I'm sorry.”
Layna hesitated, wanting to yell at him, wanting to tell him how much he had hurt her, how much pain he had caused. But she didn't, she couldn't, because deep down she knew that the only reason it had hurt her so much was because she had cared about him. And she still cared about him. So she said nothing. Instead, she put her arms around him again, this time purposefully. He put a tentative hand on the small of her back.
They lay there, taking comfort in the closeness of each other for some time. Layna sighed, and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. He shifted and turned to face her. His hand on her back drew her closer, and his lips found hers. He kissed her gently, and a rush spread through Layna, every nerve tingling in a burst of excitement.
She kissed him back, and he gave a small happy sigh. “I was so worried about you, beautiful.” Layna felt another rush at this nickname, and she snuggled farther into him.
“Where's Charles?” she suddenly asked and Gryffon laughed.
“That's nice pillow talk,” he teased. “He went to go see if he could get us some pheasant for dinner. We thought that some meat after your little swim would do you good.”
“My little swim,” she repeated, and shivered, though not from cold anymore. “Thank you for saving me,” she said gratefully. “Again. I assume that was you who pulled me out.” Gryffon simply nodded and she settled back down. He held her close and they lay in silence.
“Am I interruptin’ something?” a gruff voice asked from behind them. Gryffon grabbed for a knife that lay next to the bedroll, spinning around in the covers.
He sighed. “Charles.”
The man chuckled. “Aye. It is me.”
“How went the hunting?”
In answer, Charles held up a large pheasant dangling upside-down from his hand. He nodded at it. “Nice, yes?” He dropped the bird unceremoniously next to the fire pit, and turned his back to them saying, “I'm off to get some more firewood. I'll expect you two lollygaggers to be decent when I get back. I won't be doin' all the work whilst you two wrestle undercover.” He headed off without looking back, trudging along into the forest.
Gryffon shook his head and looked at Layna who felt herself blushing. He leaned down and kissed her lightly once more. “You are beautiful you know,” he told her. He pulled their clothing off of the sticks he had propped them on to dry, and he handed her hers. She dressed quickly underneath the covers to stay as warm as possible, and then joined Gryffon by the fire where he had picked up the bird that Charles had abandoned and had proceeded to start dressing it out.
“So tell me about what you've been doing,” Layna said after a pause.
Gryffon looked up from his messy work and nodded. “Alright. What would you like to know?”
“Anything,” she answered and then she amended, “Anything real.”
Gryffon let out a short puff of air. “Um, okay. But you realize that what I'm about to tell you is highly classified information.” She raised her eyebrows impatiently at him and he went on. “I'm here as part of an extensive network of spies,” he held up a hand to stave off the angry response he must have seen coming from her and went on, “not because we're trying to do anything bad to you, but for our own protection. Our borders are closed to you for good reason, and we're not about to ignorantly stand by and let you repeat
history all over again. Remember what we talked about before, about the Dark King?” At Layna's nod he went on. “Well, in our histories you see the enormous amount of lives that were lost or ruined because of one madman's rise to power and influence on your country – well, back then our country. We've been aware of a secret organization which has run rampant in your government since that time and we've been watching for any signs of covert activity that could indicate that they may be preparing to act out against us - Like I said, not because we're interested in taking you over or anything like that, but for our safety. It would be awfully easy to turn your people against ours since we have been separated for so long. And even though it’s commonly referred to as the other half of the country that became Treymayne, Gelendan is actually much bigger. Even with our greater talent and more widespread use of it, your sheer mass and population would likely give you the upper hand should it ever come to a dispute. There were rumors that we sent an envoy over and he was brutally rejected, but I am not high enough up in our government to know whether or not that is true. I do know, however, that your current King is acting suspiciously similar to the Dark King and could potentially cause us some real problems.”
“How so?” Layna asked, beginning to be more worried now that her initial anger had worn off.
“Well, he has said he wants to put together a lot of programs which could help your country like the research into talents and so forth, but that's also what you do when you're gearing up for war. If you were about to send a bunch of people off to battle wouldn't you want to conveniently gather them all together under the pretense of training them, and then have the added benefit of really training them to your own purposes? Plus there are the reports of ancient magical beasts being resurrected which, if the rumors are true, could mean that he is reinstating the blood rites and using them to create armies of magical beasts.”
“I guess I could see how you might think that he’s getting ready for a war. I heard similar conclusions by the other nobles at Jezebel’s, but I’m not sure I can quite grasp the whole blood-magic part. I know there have been rumors and all, but there are always rumors about something. That doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s true. Blood-magic has been gone since the fires destroyed the knowledge, hasn’t it? And if that’s the case, why would your borders still be closed? Hasn’t enough time passed? And haven’t we stayed away from blood-magic here too? We disapproved of what the Dark King did just as much as you do. So why?” Layna asked curiously.
“Well, look what you did to us,” Gryffon said defensively.
“I didn't do anything,” countered Layna.
“Alright. So perhaps we have been holding a grudge for too long,” admitted Gryffon. “Nevertheless, there are forces at work here that don't care about you or about me, only about power and they'll step on anyone they need to on their way to getting it.”
Layna sat in silence and pondered this for a while, absently running the charm around her neck back and forth along its chain. A movement caught her eye, and she saw Gryffon wince as he brushed his arm across his front while he lifted a saddlebag off the branch it was laying on. “Come here,” she said in her best commanding voice and Gryffon looked at her, a tiny hint of an amused smile playing on his lips.
He didn't comment on the tone, but simply set the bag down and came over to her. She motioned for him to sit beside her and he obliged, carefully lowering himself onto the log. She reached over before she lost her nerve and unbuttoned his shirt.
Her fingers trembled slightly and she ran a finger down his chest. He watched her, his eyes lowering from hers to her finger as it touched the burned portion. Layna fished in her bag for more healing salve, and though the supply was running low, she dipped her hand in and brought out a generous amount. Gryffon opened his mouth as if to protest that he was fine, but she ignored him and pressed it against the burn. He let out a hissing breath that slowly transformed into a relived sigh as it worked its magic on the wound. Layna whispered her own magic, willing him to heal.
He closed his eyes, enjoying both sensations and Layna allowed her eyes to take in the sight of him. His toned muscles rippled underneath her touch, responding to the healing. Though still covered with now-greenish bruises and slightly disfigured by the horrible wound on his chest, he was a gorgeous man. The most gorgeous man that Layna could imagine and she enjoyed her own little shiver of pleasure at the closeness they had just shared.
Gryffon opened his eyes and gave her an odd look. Layna had the embarrassing thought that perhaps she had put some of that emotion into her healing. She abruptly broke contact, but Gryffon continued to give her that penetrating stare for a moment longer before glancing down at his battered body. Several more of the bruises had speed-healed to a more normal color, and the burn had reduced its swelling substantially, becoming more of a recognizable shape. Recognizable as some sort of shape anyway. Layna had no idea what it was, and had no recollection of having ever seen the symbol before. It was a definitely defined something, grotesquely outlined in blackened flesh in the midst of the red burn around it.
“Some new trick she learned,” Gryffon murmured, lifting his finger to prod at it mercilessly. Layna had to raise her own hand to bat away his. His relentless poking could not feel good, and certainly would not be good for the healing process. He caught her hand and held it. “Thanks again for the healing. You probably shouldn't touch the power much more, though. We don't want to call attention to ourselves by influencing it.”
Charles came crashing through the woods just then, a wild look on his face. “We have trouble,” he told them shortly. He looked at Gryffon. “What is that?” he asked, staring at the mark on Gryffon's chest.
Gryffon looked confused for a second, and then annoyed at Charles' alarming statement and following distraction. “It's a love token from Lady Jezebel,” he growled, “and you were saying,” he prompted.
Charles gave Gryffon's chest another fearful look, but seemed to realize that whatever trouble he had just announced should take precedence. “We are being followed,” he stated, “and not, by any human.”
