Gift of Griffins

by V. M. Escalada

  This was all far removed from the script they’d agreed on. Ker began tapping her fingers on her thigh. “Baku, what are you doing?”

  “I tell you that my own sister, the Princess Imperial who stands before you now, was taught to ride, and to shoot, and walked about with her head uncovered, until she came to live at the Imperial Palace. That is how she is able to speak with my voice.”

  That wasn’t entirely true, Ker Flashed.

  “They also say that women could not have magic, when their own histories show that to be false.” How does Baku know that? Did Jerek tell her? “They say that we horsemen cannot have magic, when the Voice of the Emperor proves that to be false.

  “And so I tell you, that in destroying the women of power when you came to this land, you acted only upon the wishes of the Shekayrin, and not upon mine.”

  “She lies! This is a perversion of the Emperor’s Voice. It is not the Emperor who speaks, but his bewitched sister. Rise up and destroy her!” Kvar had finally managed to free himself from Baku’s pink ribbon.

  “Rise up yourself!” The call came in both tongues, Halian and Faraman, though it appeared that some Faraman soldiers were trying to hush their fellows. The Halian calls soon changed, however as most began to shout “Challenge!”

  Ker’s stomach sank. This was completely off script.

  The shout was taken up by more and more people, Halian and Faraman alike. Weapons were waving in the air, and dissenters among the ranks were silenced, some forcibly, by those near them. The roiling and twisting of auras was enough to make Ker dizzy. From the look on the Poppy Shekayrin’s face, this wasn’t the disaster for him that they’d hoped for. Even two of the mages standing on the edges of the waiting soldiers moved their position to where they could see Pollik Kvar more easily, as if they were expecting some type of signal.

  Blades of grass. The Emperor’s soldiers. There weren’t so very many of them right here and now, though; Kvar and his mages were outnumbered, but were they outnumbered enough?

  “You have made many accusations against the Shekayrin. I say it is not the Voice of the Emperor speaking. I say that you lie. With the help of witches, you have warped the Voice to suit yourself. Our people have called for a challenge, and I agree. I challenge you to prove your case by open combat, your champion against mine.”

  “You think I fear a custom of the Horsemen? A custom of my own people? It is not so. I accept the challenge.”

  The roar from the crowd matched the roaring in Ker’s head. This wasn’t Baku. It couldn’t be. This had to be the mask, the real voice of the real emperor. Now many of the soldiers began calling out their approval in still another language, which Ker Flashed was the language of the Horsemen themselves.

  “Who do you think to use as your champion against me? The Sunflower Shekayrin Peklin Svann perhaps?” The tone when he said the word “sunflower” was enough to show what Kvar thought of that. “He is already dead. Who else do you think might serve you, traitorous woman?”

  Ker’s ears buzzed. She hadn’t needed this confirmation, but it shook her just the same.

  “I accept your challenge, and I say that you will not prevail against my champion. You cannot overcome her. You must prove, here and now, that your power is greater than hers.”

  Hers? Baku certainly wasn’t ready for any such thing! This must be the work of the mask.

  “I will choose as my champion Kerida Griffin Girl.”

  The crowd was roaring again—but it wasn’t the crowd at all. The roaring was in Ker’s head. Without her jewel, she had no chance to overcome a Shekayrin. Ker shivered. The Voice of the Emperor had found a way to destroy them all.

  The smile on Kvar’s face confirmed all her fears. “She is a witch, an abomination, cursed by the Father. I would not dirty my hands on her.”

  “You refuse?” The tone of satisfaction in the Emperor’s voice gave Ker heart. “Then you lose by forfeit. That is the rule according to the form of justice you have chosen. None may follow you now.”

  “Very well.” Kvar smiled, as if everything still went his way. “I will prove myself against your champion.”

  * * *

  “. . . ‘against your champion.’” Jerek had his eyes shut tight, the better to concentrate on the information coming from Baku. This time there were images, something they’d never managed before. The vision was narrow, however, as though he looked through the eyeholes of a mask. “He’s planning to cheat,” he added. “They’re all going to attack her at once. He thinks no one watching will know.”

  “Whose idea was this?” Tonia’s tight voice showed her concern for her sister. “Ker will never be able to overcome them all. Will she?” Tonia directed the question at Jerek, and he shook his head. Not in answer but in impatience.

  “This wasn’t the plan.” Jerek could hardly hear for the pounding of his own heart.

  “Who knows what Griffin Girl can do?” Even Ganni’s voice shook. The old Feeler was not nearly as confident as he tried to sound.

  “We mobilize now. Tell the Cohort Leaders.” That was Juria Sweetwater. Jerek didn’t hear the reply.

  * * *

  Without warning, without even moving from his place on the platform, Pollik Kvar struck, a coil of red streaking out from his aura like the head of an asp. Ker ducked just fast enough for the red line to strike where her head would have been a second before. Kvar’s eyes widened, and he bared his teeth, flipping his hand out to the side. At this signal, the Daisy behind Ker, along with the two mages standing near Kvar, also lashed out with spikes and spears of red, though none as fast as the first. She should have known he would cheat.

  Ker braced herself, sure that one attack at least would reach her. Then Baku’s aura flashed, her colors bright and strong, and the princess tossed a tiny point of light straight into the air over her head. Kvar’s eyes turned toward it, and Ker knew it for something solid, visible to him and not just a piece of Baku’s aura. His hand went to a pocket in his tunic, and his face hardened. Kvar held his hand out, a ribbon of red whipping forward to capture the object Baku had thrown.

  “My jewel.” The realization struck Ker like a splash of warm water. Baku had Lifted it from Kvar’s pocket. Instinctively, Ker held up her hands, even though she didn’t think she could catch her jewel from this angle—until it smacked into her palm with enough force that it almost knocked her down. Her own patterns jumped into life around her, swarming over and around her like puppies tumbling on the grass.

  With this surge of new energy, her jewel tight in her fist, Ker broke their bonds with a gesture before jumping to her feet. No matter what happened, Tel would have a chance to get away. Not that he was likely to take it. Dying together wasn’t as much comfort as the stories made out. Having the jewel gave her hope, but she’d need luck as well.

  <> Weimerk, his thoughts cold and tasting of clouds. The connection was gone before Ker could respond.

  She straightened up and started casting out versions of her own inner patterns, matching and sapping the power from the bolts and waves of red the Shekayrin tossed at her like hunters spearing a bear. But that only held off the attack; if she concentrated on any one assault to destroy it, she exposed herself to the attack of the others. Defense was all she could manage, and defense alone wouldn’t be enough. Eventually, they would wear her down. She Flashed the triumph that swept through Pollik Kvar as he realized that she wasn’t attacking.

  At that moment, a fresh burst of color swept through her, leaving energy in its wake, and tasting entirely new and different.

  <> Weimerk didn’t sound worried at all.

  Baku. A net, larger than she had ever seen, soared from the princess’s aura. It split into pieces and swarmed the nets and webs of the Shekayrin, all the Shekayrin, damping them down one after another until they hovered around their mages, perfectly still.

  Kvar c
ouldn’t see the auras, but he could tell something had gone wrong. He pushed his way across the dais to Baku and seized her free arm. Baku struggled, but she couldn’t fight him and maintain her hold on the other Shekayrin at the same time. Ker shot out her own ribbon of red, layered with Lifter’s Pink, and wrapped it around Kvar’s legs and arms. He pushed out at her, and while he couldn’t shrug her off completely, neither could she tighten her grip. She was stronger, but he’d been using his jewel longer than Ker had been alive, and skill alone could be enough to overcome her greater strength. She could bash at him like a sledgehammer, while he could slip past her guard like the thin blade of a knife.

  Trying to repeat what she’d done to the Rose Shekayrin in the capital, Ker focused on Pollik Kvar’s internal net. Its red glowed like metal on a forge, and for the first time Ker felt real fear as Kvar turned his attention to her. A bolt of red, this one streaked with the other colors of his aura, shot back toward her. Bracing herself, Ker repeated the gesture that had swept the Rose’s attack aside.

  But a Rose is not a Poppy. And, in particular, not this Poppy. She managed to deflect the attack, but only just enough that the full force of the blow didn’t strike her. She staggered, and she felt Tel’s hands wrapping themselves around her arms just above the elbow, holding her steady. She wouldn’t be able to make an assault on the core of Kvar’s net. She couldn’t even be sure she saw exactly where the weak point was—or maybe Kvar didn’t have a weak point.

  Seeing another blow coming, Ker spun her aura around herself, making sure the colors Weimerk had given her were woven through everywhere—strength and endurance, vision and invisibility. She kept spinning until her aura looked like the sphere she’d freed herself with. This would buy her time enough to think of something else. She felt the length of Tel’s body against her back and leaned into him, letting the shield cover them both.

  “Hold on,” she heard him say, but she couldn’t spare energy or attention to respond. Dimly, she Flashed that Kvar was still sending blows to her, and worse, there were other red webs coming to the mage’s aid.

  <>

  A flare of colors to one side, bright and hot and dazzling, made Ker think that Weimerk had already arrived, but the newcomer wasn’t a griffin. In drawing Kvar’s attack on herself, Ker had given Baku time to gather her own strength.

  “You idiot.” She laughed out loud. Ker may have forgotten that she still had an ally, but Kvar had done much worse: he’d forgotten he still had an enemy.

  Where Ker had seen herself as a sledgehammer, Baku was a mountain boulder, rolling downhill and gathering strength and momentum as she came. She smashed into Kvar from a direction he wasn’t guarding, her aura knocking his colors aside like a game of bowls. Most of the colors in Baku’s aura had double strands, even triple. With no fumbling, the princess gripped Kvar’s net in a fist made up of every color Ker could think of and wrenched it free. It hung suspended for a moment, sheets and waves of red trying to reestablish itself, and then it was gone.

  Pollik Kvar collapsed to the ground.

  <> Ker hesitated, suddenly a little reluctant to draw the girl’s attention to herself. She opened her eyes and saw that Baku was kneeling on the dais, one hand still on the mask, the other propping herself up. The two officers nearest her were clearly trying to solve the dilemma of helping their princess to her feet without actually touching her.

  <> Or, if you prefer, I can Far-think you this way. Baku evidently took pity on her officers, waving them off as she stood on her own.

  <> Ker imagined Weimerk waving away a bee with one of his enormous paws.

  Baku’s laughter shook. <>

  <>

  <>

  For the first time in what felt like hours, though the position of the sun hadn’t changed a bit, Ker looked around her, becoming suddenly aware of the noise of the crowd, and that she could still feel Tel’s arms wrapped around her. The auras of the soldiers all sparkled in the light, all, she noticed, that same blue, green, and yellow, whether they were Faraman or Halian. With very few exceptions, the auras were upright, waving, and bright. When she refocused her attention on the physical world around her, she saw that all the Shekayrin were sitting down on the ground, eyes closed, some rocking. One with a bleeding nose. Farther away, at the limits of her Flashing, she could see more auras heading toward them from all sides. The Battle Wings.

  <>

  “Kerida,” Tel interrupted, his hands now on her shoulders. “The Poppy’s still alive.”

  Ker looked where Tel pointed and saw Pollik Kvar lying rigid a few paces away from Baku on the dais.

  <>

  The Princess Imperial raised one hand, and a flash of black streaked to her from the Poppy on the ground. <> The coldness in Baku’s tone chilled even Ker.

  <> Ker gasped before she recognized Weimerk’s mind.

  <>

  Almost as if they’d felt the passing of magic around them, the Halian troops were all once again on their knees, some of them with their hands over their heads. Only a few of the Faraman men were still standing, looking around them as if they didn’t know where they were or how they’d gotten there. Ker saw with some shock that many of these men had red mists or even webs hanging over them.

  Ker put her hand on top of Tel’s. <> she said, both in her head and aloud so Tel could hear her. Please let her not want to kill them.

  <>

  <> Ker advised. <>

  Keeping hold of her jewel in her left hand, Baku picked up the mask and held it once more in front of her face. A wave of motion trickled through the assembled soldiers, as some of them rose to their feet.

  “Rest easy, my people. My champion has prevailed, and the traitor Pollik Kvar has been defeated.”

  The same soldiers who had tried to reach the Daisy Shekayrin guarding Ker and Tel ran forward again, this time with wide smiles and drawn swords, obviously ready to execute him. Ker stepped forward, but Tel held her back.

  “Don’t interfere,” he said.

  “The Prophecy says everyone is going to be united,” she reminded him.

  “Maybe not everyone.”

  Others in the crowd were also breaking ranks, though most of the soldiers stayed quiet, looking around with caution.

  “Do not harm the mages,” The Voice of the Emperor spoke quickly. “They are also my people. We will give them the opportunity, now that Pollik Kvar is defeated, to come to our side, should they wish it.”

  “What if they don’t?” Tel called out exactly what many of the others were thinking.

  “Then my champion and I will send them back to Halia.” She raised her voice. “Bring them here to me.” Baku indicated the ground in front of the dais with the hand that still held her jewel. “My champion will deal with them appropriately.”

  <> Pulling their own auras into her hands, Ker quickly created a shield of colors, including the reds, punched it into a hemisphere, and set one down over each mage. They glowed like opals, restricting the Shekayrin’s magic, but not netting or removing it.

  <que. It is preferable to killing people. Come, join me on the dais.>>

  The soldiers were once more on their feet pointing, picking up weapons, and re-forming their ranks. As Tel helped her climb onto the dais, Ker looked up to see the edges of the valley dark with people. The Battle Wings had arrived, and the valley was surrounded.

  “Kerida! If the Wings come boiling over those rocks, we won’t be able to stop these men from fighting. Can’t Baku—”

  Once more the princess lifted the mask to her face. “Be at peace, my people. These others are also my loyal followers, sent by the Luqs my husband to rescue me from the Shekayrin. Only their officers will come to attend me.” The Halians stopped their preparations but remained alert and ready.

  Baku: Jerek! Quickly, have your Far-thinkers stop your soldiers from entering the valley. We have prevailed, but this is not the time for these enemies to meet. Send me the Faros only, with their highest officers.

  Jerek: I’ve told them. It’s the Faro of Panthers with them. Tell Kerida.

  “I could almost get that.” Ker rubbed her forehead as if that would help. “He said something about the Faro of Panthers?”

  “He wishes me to tell you the Faro comes, with her officers.”

  Ker started to giggle, suddenly shivering with chill. Her laughter died away as she saw some of the Halian soldiers nudging their fellows and pointing upward. When Ker lifted her eyes, she could just make out the golden shimmer that was Weimerk flying at speed. Almost immediately, he was hovering overhead, wings moving only slightly to hold him in place above them.