by Judith Post
Dante inhaled too. "Shifters," he said.
He and Ally rushed outside. Three men were picking fruit from the tree as quickly as possible. When Dante yelled at them, they dropped their harvest, stomped on the fruit to ruin it, sprouted wings, and shifted as they soared skyward. Ally aimed a palm to blast them, but Dante put a heavy hand on her arm to stop her.
"We don't know enough yet." His voice was solemn.
Ally understood. What if the shifters had every right to hate Humusi and Sidu? What if Sidu was the wrong-doer here? She grimaced, lowering her hand. Staring after the majestic creatures, she asked, "What were those?"
"You should know. You had them in Greece."
Eagle heads and wings, lion bodies. "No, it can't be. Griffins don't shift."
"They do now," Dante said, "part of adapting to a world that knows little of magic. None of us can keep our true forms and survive."
"But griffins are…."
"Noble and righteous, entrusted to protect things of value. You'd regret it if you blasted them."
They both turned as Gideon and Humusi rushed toward them.
"What were those things?" Humusi cried.
Gideon placed an arm around her shoulders. "Griffins."
"But…."
Gideon glanced at Dante to verify his facts. When Dante gave a slight nod, Gideon sighed. "Your brother was in the wrong, not his enemies."
"No." Humusi sagged to her knees beside her brother's grave. "There has to be another explanation."
Ally's heart gave a painful twist. It was hard to admit that someone you loved might do something thoroughly wrong. She knew. She and Stheno had been cursed to be gorgons because of their sister Medusa's silly pride. And still, Ally loved her.
Gideon bent to pull Humusi to her feet. "Ally needs to cast spells. We can't be in her way."
Humusi's expression crumpled. "They must hate me if they meant to strip my tree of its fruit."
"Why?" Gideon reached for one of the smooth, golden lobes dangling from a higher branch. He started to bite into its lush flesh, then thought better of it.
"The fruit's what keeps me young. Without it, I'd age."
Dante nodded for Ally to chant her spells, then turned to Humusi. "How long can you go before it's too late?"
"No worry. I'll show you." Humusi motioned toward the flat rooftop of her house. She leaned close to Gideon as they crossed the courtyard, arm in arm. Ally hurried after them when she finished her magic. She climbed the stairs to join them. Giant pots held small versions of the tree below. Tiny bulbs of fruit glistened against vibrant, green leaves. Humusi went to a long workbench that held potting soil and gardening tools. Opening its narrow drawer, she brought out a packet filled with seeds. "I have another tree potted in the house. Not as strong as the parent plant, but enough to see me through."
Dante once again ran a hand through his thick hair. A habit of his when he was frustrated, Ally had learned. "Your brother's death is getting complicated. Griffins are like gargoyles—guardians. They'll prove to be in the right. But we can't let them harm Humusi. She did nothing wrong."
Ally glanced at their exotic hostess, pressed against Gideon's side. The young gargoyle looked smitten, happy to protect her. "Then we need to find the griffins and talk to them. They're old and wise. They'll understand."
Dante pulled her to him, in the mood for snuggles too. Always a good thing. Nothing felt more secure than being in the arms of a gargoyle. "I'll get in touch with Samuel and Ecanus. We'll start searching for them tonight."
* * *
Ally dropped off Dante at the cathedral, then drove home. She climbed the inside stairs to her apartment above the pawn shop and paced from room to room, restless. She hated sitting things out, getting benched. She poured herself a glass of wine, then went to the airing room that served as her studio.
Clay pieces lined the shelves she'd installed under the room's three walls of windows. All of the pieces were in varying shades of doneness. Some only had a first fire. Some needed a final glaze. She went to her pottery wheel, threw clay on it, and started to work. Her fingers didn't cooperate. The pot didn't please her. She clicked off the wheel and smooshed the clay back into a lump. She couldn't concentrate. Usually, she could absorb herself in her work. Not tonight.
She went to the kitchen and started puttering with recipes. She scanned her fourth cookbook and tossed it aside. Nothing sounded good. Finally, she did what she'd wanted to do in the first place. She locked her apartment door behind her and hit the streets to look for the shifters too. Dante wouldn't be happy with her, but that was his problem. She wasn't good at waiting.
She circled the city-county building, then circled the next block out and the blocks after that, slowly walking in ever larger squares. She reached the bridge that spanned the river before she caught her first whiff of magic—the strange, new scent she now knew meant griffins. She slowed her steps. When the scent grew stronger, she knew they were close and chanted for a breeze to blow her own scent away. Then she stepped into the shadows, out of sight.
A group of men approached, walking toward the city. Every single one of them was good-looking. Immortals were like that, but as far as she was concerned, none of them could compete with Dante. Of course, she was a tad prejudiced, and knew it. She did a quick count. Eight in all.
The men strode past her, walking with a purpose. Ally waited before following them. They headed to a small garage that had gone out of business and had sat empty for over a year. They rolled up the hanging door and got busy. She stood across the street, in a dark alley, watching them. What, in the name of Hecate, were they up to?
They worked for a good hour before two of them casually strolled down the street, in the opposite direction. They were gone for at least forty-five minutes before the pair returned, talking and joking, as they approached the dark garage. When they were almost to its rolled-up door, Dante and Samuel plummeted from the sky to confront them. The minute the gargoyles landed, Ally heard the twang of something being released, and a net fell over her friends. A catapult. The damn griffins had built a catapult. Their two friends had served as bait.
Dante grabbed the ropes of the net and pulled. Nothing happened. Samuel tried to lift it and make his way to its edge, but the rope didn't give. Did griffins have magic? Were the ropes bespelled? Ally didn't wait to find out. She raced across the street to free them. As she ran, she could feel her legs blend together and stretch into a thick, scaled body, tapering to a tail. She slithered like a sidewinder as claws sprang from her fingers. Her hair writhed to life, becoming snakes, hissing and reaching.
No one would hurt Dante if she could stop them. Her eyes burned, and she knew that they were changing to her gorgon's yellow hue.
"No, Ally! Stop!" Dante's voice made her pause. The yellow drained from her gaze. She hissed at the griffins gripping the net.
They cringed and backed away. They averted their faces to avoid looking at her. It was her gaze, when it was yellow, they needed to fear.
Dante's tone turned soothing. "They're griffins, hon. Do you really want to turn them to stone?"
Hon? He'd never called her "hon" before. For a moment, happiness zinged inside her. She raged at the damned net, advanced on it, and the griffins scrambled out of her way. Who knew who loaned their magic to the griffins? Hers came directly from Artemis, and it topped theirs. With her sharp claws, she slashed an opening down its center.
Dante and Samuel tossed it aside.
Dante walked to her and put an arm around her. "Let's listen to them first. Then if you want to kill them, go ahead."
Her lipless mouth curved into a smile, and she shifted partially back to her mortal form. She grimaced at her sandals. Her spandex shirt stretched and gave, remaining intact when she changed. Her long skirt always survived, but her sandals? When her nails grew, they shredded her footwear. Damn! But she refused to retract them. If the griffins tried anything sneaky, she'd be ready.
"I'll buy you a new pair." Dante
rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. He looked at the griffins. "Now would be a good time to tell us why you killed Sidu and why you threatened Humusi. We're sworn to protect her."
Samuel hunched his shoulders, not as forgiving. "You killed someone in our city. We're its guardians. We take that seriously."
Ally's anger rose again, and a few strands of hair writhed to life. "What did you mean to do with Dante and Samuel?"
One of the griffins moved farther away from her.
"We only meant to detain them." A tall griffin stepped forward. Maybe their leader? "We couldn't let gargoyles interfere with our work, but we have no quarrel with them, intended no harm."
Ally bristled, her claws still long and sharp. Could they be trusted? They were once known for their nobility and honor, but every magical creature had changed over time.
Dante wove an arm around her waist, tugging her even closer. "Let's hear them out, okay?"
She snorted. He was always so reasonable.
Samuel stepped to her other side. He took her hand in his. What was this? A gargoyle jolly tactic? "Humusi already told you that she doesn't know what her brother did. Wouldn't you like to know?"
Okay, she was curious. Ally relaxed. She glared at the man before her. "I'm listening. Start talking."
* * *
Gray tinged the leader's temples. He stood taller and broader than his seven companions. He had an air of authority about him. The others waited, silent, out of respect. "I'm Vala, and we've traveled long and far to avenge a great wrong done to our species."
"Let us be the judge of that." Samuel looked like he should sit behind a high bench in a courtroom. He reminded Ally of a stern tutor or a high school principal. She wouldn't want to stand before him to plead her case.
Vala eyed him warily. "We didn't know gargoyles watched over this city, or we'd have consulted you first, but we've hunted Sidu and Humusi for centuries."
"Humusi did you no wrong." The Lotus Eater had declared herself innocent, and Ally believed her.
Vala gave a slight bow of his head. "True, but she hid her brother from us, all these years, making her an accomplice."
"Not the same." Samuel crossed his arms over his chest, unswayed by Vala's arguments. "Anyone would protect their family, if they could."
Vala flinched, but Ally's stomach wrenched, as usual, when she thought of Medusa and Stheno. Had there been anything she could do to protect them? She'd wanted Stheno to come to Summit City, to stay with her, but Stheno wouldn't leave her cave. Should Ally have gone to her? She'd been with Medusa, though, when Perseus killed her. Both she and Stheno were there, stupidly unaware that an enemy had discovered them. Guilt wormed through her conscience…again.
Vala shook his head, dismissing Samuel's arguments. "Sidu's family should have been shamed by his deeds and turned their backs on him."
"He never told them." Dante stepped forward, entering the discussion.
Vala stared. He had the sharp features of his eagle form—a narrow face, patrician nose, and pointed chin. "Never once, in all this time?"
"No."
Vala pinched his lips together, uncertain. He glanced over his shoulder at his friends. "That makes her an innocent."
"We don't harm those," one of them responded.
Another shuffled his feet and looked down at the ground.
"What is it, Fallon?" Vala asked.
The young griffin had reddish-brown hair and light-brown eyes. "We found Sidu. We avenged our children's deaths. We've been away from our families for a long time. Our hatchlings will be nearly grown."
A few other men muttered agreement.
"Children's deaths?" Samuel bristled. "No one should harm a child."
Vala's gaze met his. "Then we agree. Sidu committed the ultimate betrayal, the ultimate crime against our species."
A group of well-dressed people passed the garage, walking toward downtown. Vala motioned for everyone to move inside the building, out of sight of casual strollers.
A make-shift living quarters had been thrown together with a few couches pulled together in a grouping and a table and chairs jammed near the side door. Hammocks hung from ceiling beams. Vala and two of his men took one couch. Dante, Samuel, and Ally sat across from them. The other griffins scattered on the third sofa or pulled up wooden seats.
Dante leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. "I'd like to hear the whole story in its entirety, so that I understand everything from start to finish."
Vala nodded. "It would be better that way. Then you'll understand our feelings."
* * *
Vala thought a moment, then began. "Our civilization is very old, as old as the Lotus eaters and the early gods. We nest on an island, surrounded by sharp reefs and swirling currents so that mortals cannot reach us. We're bound by the gods to guard certain treasures and celestial possessions."
He paused a minute to put his thoughts in order. Ally held her breath, curious about his story. Her sisters had made their homes on islands too, deep inside caves. But mortals were an inventive lot. If they wanted to reach a destination, they usually found a way.
Creases deepened at the edge of Vala's eyes. This story was as painful for him as Ally's was for her. "The king of Mesopotamia, at that time, was a warlock. He knew of a treasure put in our charge, a treasure he wanted. He sent men and ships to take it from us, but the currents sank their boats or washed them away, and the men drowned."
The young griffin with the reddish-brown hair—surely the one Ally had noticed in Humusi's courtyard, who'd switched with reddish-brown wings to fly away—rested his face in his hands. The friend next to him placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.
Vala sighed and forged on. "The King decided on a different tactic. His big ships couldn't make it to our shores, so he sent a lone man in a frail boat. He brought many fruits, telling us he meant to use them for nourishment while he sailed the mainland's shores. He said that a wind blew him off course, and he was lucky he'd made it to our island alive. He offered the fruits to us as thanksgiving for the way we welcomed him."
Vala's voice broke, and another griffin, one with sandy-colored hair and high cheekbones, took up the story. "What you won't understand is that our species can only reproduce every one thousand years, Nature's way of ensuring that griffins, who are long-lived, don't overpopulate. Our communal nest was filled with eggs, and we awaited the day our young would hatch."
"All of the eggs were together?" Ally bit her lip. She shouldn't have interrupted, but she was curious. "How can you know which hatchling to raise as your own?"
Fallon motioned with his hand. "Each family has its own hue. Mine's reddish. Vala's is dark brown. We're distinct from each other."
Just like gargoyles. All carved to perfection, but each with different coloring.
Vala took up the story again. "We welcomed the man…."
"Sidu?" Dante asked.
Vala nodded. "…and he gave us his fruits. While we ate and drank, feeling free of worldly cares for the first time in our being, Sidu claimed fatigue from his journey. He said he needed to rest, then snuck to our nest to destroy our eggs."
Fallon lowered his head to his hands once more.
"Every one of them?" Samuel's tone was sharp, irritated.
Not looking up, Fallon nodded.
Vala exhaled a long, shuddering sigh. "The fruit's effect lasted several days. Before it wore off, Sidu took his boat and left, returning to the king."
A knot of horror clotted in Ally's stomach. "Why? Why would Sidu destroy your eggs? What could he hope to gain?"
"We asked ourselves that over and over," Fallon said. He raised his head to meet Ally's eyes. "When we finally found him, he begged our forgiveness. He told us that the king convinced him that his lands were invaded by a race of monsters who flew into small villages, killed men, women, and children, and carried off whatever they wished. Guards led a woman before him who had only one eye, a child missing an arm, and a multitude of others with grisly s
cars. They told him they'd barely survived the attacks."
The sandy-haired griffin sniffed with disdain. "The king probably maimed those people himself and threatened to torture them more if they didn't tell their stories."
The men grew silent a moment before Fallon continued. "The king painted us as a scourge for his nation, one they'd never been able to protect themselves against because they could never reach our island."
Samuel interrupted. "So Sidu thought he was being a hero, like his father, by rescuing Mesopotamia from you."
Vala nodded. "Sidu said when he returned, triumphant, to tell the king what he'd done, the king laughed at him, called him a fool, and told him to run and hide before his troops or ours could find him and punish him for killing the gods' guardians."
Dante's lips pressed together in a tight line, his jawline hardened, and Ally knew that he could relate to Vala and his men and the duties the gods had given them.
Samuel's words shot out like bullets. "Is that when Sidu returned to the Lotus Eaters and began his life of running and hiding with his sister?"
Vala stood and began pacing, too restless to sit. "He told us that he knew they'd stayed in Summit City too long, that we'd find him. Humusi begged him to move on, but Sidu said he was tired of running. He was tired of living with guilt."
The sandy-haired griffin heaved a deep sigh. "By then, we had no desire to kill him, but we'd sworn to do so. And Sidu wanted to die. He asked us to balance his slate, to let him die nobly and restore his family's honor."
Shoulders hunched, Vala sank back down to the sofa. "We'd looked forward to killing him all these years, but when we snapped his neck, we only felt sympathy for him. Our victory, like his, was hollow."
