Grand Theft Griffin

by Michael Angel

  There was more than one griffin involved.

  Yet as soon as I realized that, I wanted to push the idea out of my head. Shaw, Ulrik, and everyone else agreed that dishonorable, thieving griffins could exist. Had existed in the past. However, if the Skinned Ones were any guide, the villainous griffin conviction rate still hovered at under a half-dozen over the past few centuries.

  So not only would you have to find a lone, dishonorable griffin.

  You’d have to find a second one, just as willing to be dishonorable, to help out. And one that was loyal enough to keep quiet about the entire deal. To keep honor among thieves. The odds of that happening among the griffins I’d been with over the past few days seemed so vanishingly small that it was ludicrous.

  And yet my mind kept circling back to the question of motive.

  Who came out ahead in all of this?

  Who benefited from Lance Captain Thundercrack’s death?

  * * *

  I felt a sprinkle of rain across my face as I arrived in Andeluvia the following morning. Shaw steadied me, and then lifted a wing to shield me from the droplets. It was a nice gesture, though not really necessary; the rain was little more than a drizzle.

  “Bide but a minute, and this squall shall pass,” Shaw assured me. “I am glad to see thee on this day. It was a trying time on thy last visit.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” I agreed. “I’m not used to justice being carried out so swiftly. Nor am I sure that it was justice.”

  “Thou hast misgivings about the guilt of the Valkir captain?”

  I nodded. “Afraid so. I’ve got some new evidence that shows he wasn’t the griffin that robbed the museum. I don’t know who the culprit is yet, but Thundercrack might have been goaded into being someone’s stalking horse.”

  A griffin frown greeted that expression. “What manner of horse does this ‘stalking’?”

  “It’s just an expression, one that comes from hunting. It’s from a time when human hunters would hide behind a horse or an obstacle that wouldn’t spook their target.”

  “Thus distracting their prey from the real threat,” Shaw muttered. “Aye, the events of the other day seemed too easily tied into a neat bow. Who dost thou suspect?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I hedged. “Let me think on it for the moment.”

  “Art thou in danger from the true guilty party?”

  “That depends on their ultimate goal. If all they wanted was to throw me off the track, then Thundercrack’s death should be the end of it.”

  “Agreed. We must act forthrightly, as if the case has been closed.”

  “However, if the goal was something else…I think that whoever is behind this is going to feel that they can move more boldly. That they can take some more risks.”

  “Then I remain worried for thee.” The sun broke from behind the clouds, so he lowered his wing. “The rain has passed. Alight, for we have an appointment to keep.”

  I slipped into the damp saddle, wincing as the cold water soaked into the crotch and inner thighs of my jeans. Hopefully it would dry out soon, or I’d be looking at some serious chafing. Shaw took off in a spray of droplets and we quickly moved to soar over the treetops.

  “An appointment?” I asked. “With whom? I’m not going to get any of the DNA tests back until tomorrow at the very least.”

  “Hollyhock asked for thy presence and company for the morn. She has kept thee safe and conveyed thee in comfort before, so I saw no grounds to object.” Shaw paused, and then added, “Yet I have new misgivings, in light of what thou hast told me.”

  “You may be right,” I said grimly.

  Part of me still resisted the idea that Holly could have anything to do with my suspicions. And yet…she had done the most to implicate the dead Lance Captain. Did I dare share her company anymore?

  “Mayhap I can dissuade her?” Shaw asked tentatively.

  I considered it, and then rejected the idea out of hand.

  “No. All I have are suspicions. Holly could be innocent of any wrongdoing, and all I would do is drive a bigger wedge between the two of you.”

  A low chirrup. “I thank thee for that, Dayna. Unlike her brothers, Hollyhock at least remains open to my presence. I would like to retain that, if thou deems it possible.”

  That touched me. I knew all too well what it was like to be emotionally separated from members of one’s family. “I think you should keep making the effort, then. Holly won’t forgive the Council for their decision about the Way of the Serpent, but she did appreciate your compliment about their martial art.”

  We came in for a landing along the pathway by Holly’s open-roofed apartment. Being human, I couldn’t help but spot Holly’s head above the stone dividers. However, I kept resolutely quiet as Shaw knocked and announced our presence.

  Holly’s voice came from beyond the wall. “Come in, please!”

  In response, Shaw simply clambered over the wall. I held tight to the saddle as his body lurched back and forth, but we were over in a couple of seconds. I dismounted and stood on an unevenly humped gray sand and gravel floor. Holly rubbed cheeks with Shaw and bowed to me.

  “Welcome, father. And welcome, Dayna,” she said cheerfully. “Unless I miss my guess, this must be the first real griffin dwelling you have visited.”

  “You’ve got that right,” I said, looking around with interest.

  At first glance, there didn’t seem to be much to the place. The bare rectangle of floor was simply framed by matching sets of the same tumbled, chest-high walls on every side.

  “As thou canst see,” Shaw put in, “We griffins are not much for furniture.”

  “Oh, I think I spot at least one piece that looks familiar,” I said, pointing out a section in the wall. Instead of tumbled rocks, two horizontal marble slabs had been laid or mortared into place, making a pair of sturdy shelves. “I don’t recognize what’s on display there, but it looks interesting.”

  Interesting was something of an understatement. Holly had a half-dozen glistening metal cones the size of a large spear point on each shelf. Some of the cones had a silver or golden sheens, while others looked well-worn and purely functional.

  Shaw looked at the collection curiously. “Wouldst these be gear made for…practitioners of the Way of the Serpent?”

  Holly’s expression remained neutral, but her body stiffened. “They are, father. The Council may have judged me, but they said nothing about my keeping–”

  “Be at ease,” Shaw reassured her. “As I have said, I admire thy craft for what it is. I shall not divulge to the Council what is not directly asked of me.”

  “You…won’t?”

  Shaw made a fatherly sigh. “What did I tell thee upon thy first-ever flight?”

  Holly fluffed her feathers in good humor. “That I should not worry about getting hurt. That I should look to the sky. Because you would be there and do what must be done.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “You make quite the dad, Grimshaw.”

  “‘Twas a good thing, too. My daughter fledgling nearly crashed on her first flight from the nest. I had to catch her in mid-plunge.” He cleared his throat, returning to the matter at hand. “That said, as a warrior, I wish to know more about these spear points for thy tails.”

  Holly launched into an explanation about how she had contracted with various smiths in Kescar Port for the weapons. I didn’t want to intrude on the conversation, so I took a stroll around Holly’s apartment. Aside from the shelving, the remaining walls appeared to be exactly the same in color and construction.

  Griffins didn’t seem to have much need for more than one room, but I suppose that it made sense. They hunted instead of preparing food, so there was no need for a kitchen. They didn’t wear clothes, so there went the need for closet space. Entertainment was performed in outside spaces or midair, so a living room wasn’t needed. The ocean was close enough for showers. And of course everyone utilized the Brownway as the publically designated space for bodily e
xcretions, meaning that both plumbing and toilets were superfluous.

  What Holly used for her bedding still escaped me. Given the sandy floor, her apartment did, in all honesty, look like a well-kept cat litter box. I noticed that it felt similar to the beach used at the Rites of the Autumn Winds. A griffin could easily scoop out or piled up whatever comfortable shape they desired. In that sense, it could serve as a combination shag carpet and memory-foam mattress.

  But Shaw and several other griffins had spoken of ‘nesting’. In fact, I’d even seen such nests, both on my initial flight to the aerie and at the eggery for the True Born chicks. Maybe Holly just curled up wherever she wanted, or reclined on one of the mounded parts. Curious, I kicked at one of the humped-up areas of sand in the far corner of her room.

  The crackle of brittle wood came from the pile. I nudged aside some more gravel and sand with the toe of my shoe to reveal a set of jagged sticks, some still with dried leaves attached. These branches looked different than the ones that made up the nests, though. Instead of being shaped and curved to form the rim of a gentle oval, these had been bent until they snapped.

  I knelt, running my fingers over the uneven, sharp breaks and thought a moment. Then I moved to my hand to the wall and found the corner covered in scrapes. The scrapes matched the diameter of the branches and were stained with dried sap.

  My mind flashed to one of the first forensic exhibits I’d ever worked on. A section of wall panel from an apartment where a domestic argument had escalated to murder. The impact of a person’s head on the panel of sheetrock had been outlined in a splash of clotted blood.

  These scrapes on hard stone told me something energetic had happened here. Something violent. These branches hadn’t been broken by someone idly playing with the wood, or stepping on it. They’d been smashed to kindling.

  And then Holly had covered up the evidence.

  Why? What else was buried here?

  I scooped away another handful or two of sand from the base of the wall.

  Then I flinched as my fingers encountered something.

  Something that was both sharp-edged and tacky to the touch.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I flipped over a small stone the size of a drink coaster.

  A jumble of colored specks gleamed back at me.

  I didn’t know what I was looking at, but a chill ran down my spine all the same. I cast a hurried glance over my shoulder. Holly and Shaw remained deep in conversation. They were still focused on the contents of her display shelves, so their backs were to me.

  Swallowing hard, I decided that I had to take action before either of them turned around.

  I reached down and cradled the stone in the palm of my hand. The specks had been smeared or plastered across the rock in two rough groupings. One group was made up of flecks the shade of ripe persimmons, while the other group’s specks were black with creamy white dots. In fact, the entire backside of the rock was shiny with a coating of some mystery substance. Whatever it was had dried while remaining slightly sticky to the touch, like improperly applied varnish.

  More out of instinct than anything else, I grabbed the stone along with a wad of the broken-up twigs and jammed the entire thing into my jacket pocket. Then I scuffed the sand back over the tangle of branches with my shoes. Another moment to smooth things out, hiding the fact that I’d been poking around.

  I wandered back over to stand between Holly and Shaw. I felt the weight of the stone in my pocket, and thought about how many regulations I’d be breaking if I were in Los Angeles right now. It couldn’t be helped. There were answers here, I just knew it.

  A gentle rapping came from the outside wall.

  “Thou hast more visitors?” Shaw asked, surprised.

  Holly shook her head. “None planned.” She raised her voice as she added, “Whomever knocks, you may enter as a friend.”

  A young reeve fluttered over the low wall. She had more brown than gold in her fur, and she sported a flatness to the feathers around her head that made it look like she’d gotten a close cropping with a pair of electric clippers. To my surprise, I recognized her as one of Shaw’s kids.

  “Hello, Linden,” I said, as soon as Holly and Shaw had given their greetings. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. How was your first patrol?”

  “The wind was with me,” Linden replied brightly. “In fact, with my first patrols under my wing, Lance Captain Halifrid promoted me to courier duty for the week.”

  That got a smile out of me. It was easy to get caught up in the kid’s enthusiasm, though I suspect that it was really just a promotion from ‘general lackey’ to ‘mail room duty’. That said, you had to start somewhere.

  “What message do you bring for me?” Holly asked.

  “I must ask your pardon,” Linden replied, adding a clumsy bow as an afterthought. “I bring none for you. It is the drake Grimshaw that I seek.”

  “Thou hast searched for me?” Shaw looked puzzled. “Who sends me a message on this day?”

  “The Council of Elders. They wish to confer with you upon a most urgent matter.”

  “This is getting to be a regular occurrence,” Shaw grumped. “Dayna, I must leave you in Hollyhock’s care again.”

  “It is no burden,” Holly put in. “I did ask for Dayna’s company ‘till the noon hour.”

  “Then I shall return to thee then. Where shall I find the two of you?”

  “The Reyka training grounds.”

  Shaw grunted agreement. He turned toward Linden, but not before catching my eye. I made a tiny nod, encouraging him, and he spread his wings. “Let us be off, Linden.”

  A dual beat of wings, and the two were aloft and heading further upslope towards the Council’s chambers.

  Upslope. Mentally, I groaned as I contemplated climbing the mountain again.

  Holly must have read my expression, for she quickly turned her flank towards me. “Nay, Dayna. In the interests of using the morn to its fullest, I shall fly you to the training grounds.”

  Gratefully, I climbed on board her muscular back. “Believe me, I appreciate it. But why are we heading there?”

  A low-throated chuckle. “Oh, my brothers and I have something special in mind for you.”

  Yeah, that made me feel a lot better, given my worries.

  Aloud, I said: “Can’t wait.”

  It was a short flight. Holly took off almost vertically this time, and I got a good view of the winding trails up the northern flank of the griffins’ home. Far below I spotted the amphitheater-shaped beach that I’d bested Thundercrack on, as well as the eggery for the True Born.

  Now, I wondered what life awaited the four chicks that were to be hatched there.

  We landed at the Reyka training ground, next to where I’d done my first swab tests. Holly directed me towards one of the hollows in the rock, one that had been turned into a sparring arena. Blackthorn and Ironwood lounged on one of the rough stone benches along the side. They looked up as we approached.

  “You did bring her,” Ironwood observed.

  Blackthorn let out a snort. “Didn’t think you were serious.”

  “She needs training, brother. We won our last first-blood match more by luck than anything else, if the truth be known.”

  The massive drake bristled a little at that, but he kept quiet. Ironwood handed Holly the club I’d used at the pride-spar between the Reyka and the Valkir. She in turn gave it to me with a little bow. I took it with a feeling of unease.

  “I don’t understand,” I said warily.

  “Among griffins,” she explained, “You may recall that one of the biggest honors is to join a particular art’s Martial School.”

  “Well, you had told me that I’m too weak to join a school. And I still can’t fly, last I checked.”

  “Second only to joining a school is the opportunity to train with an art’s leading practitioner.” Holly made a slight bow to me. “I would be honored to be your instructor for the time you have remaining here
at the aerie.”

  Despite my misgivings, I was touched. I bowed back as best I could. “I think I’m the honored one here. I suppose that we’re going to learn more work with the club?”

  “Yes. Let’s move to the sparring area. I’ll try and impart what wisdom I have.”

  We spent some time with her suggesting different ways for me to hold my club, and some battle stances. In truth, it was more than a little ‘let’s just try X and see if it works’. Holly was obviously an experienced instructor, but a human grip was a lot different than a griffin’s. And battle stances worked quite differently for bipeds than quadrupeds.

  Next, she drilled me in a series of easily understandable moves. I ended up using the club more like a short staff, learning how to block and parry blows as well as deliver them. By the end of the session, I did feel slightly more capable. Holly then lined up a series of wooden targets and had me smash them. By the second set, I’d let loose some of my inhibitions and really let the targets have it with a will. By the third, my palms were beginning to chafe and my arms stung with the force of the repeated impacts.

  “Time out,” I called, and I set the club down for a moment. I flexed my wrists to loosen them and shake out the tension, and then went to my pack for a sip of water.

  “You are lucky you are not a griffin,” Ironwood remarked from off to the side, startling me. I’d thought that he had gone to sleep. “Breaking a practice session? That is grounds for punishment.”

  “Pay him no mind, Dayna,” Holly called. “Ironwood, do not be ungenerous.”

  “That’s all right,” I reassured her. “I know this is just a taste of what you spend your entire adult lives doing. Being warriors, I mean. I just don’t see how this will help me. How can learning one skill, especially imperfectly, help me if I’m ever in danger?”

  Holly considered. “In truth, it may not. But there is always a possibility.”

  “Oddmarr,” Blackthorn murmured, as he stretched out along the bench as if to nap.