Rise of the Gryphon (Belador)

by Kenyon, Sherrilyn

  “Teleporting.”

  THIRTY

  Lanna’s claim of teleporting had sounded much more promising last night.

  When Evalle heard a thunk, then “Ouch” for the fiftieth time, she rolled over on her back on the king-size bed and pushed up on her elbows.

  Lanna stood next to the door to a bathroom just as large as this bedroom suite. She rubbed her shoulder.

  Evalle admired Lanna’s determination, but she doubted the girl’s body would survive this training. “You’re going to be black-and-blue when Quinn sees you again. He doesn’t need another reason to kill me besides letting you end up in TÅμr Medb.”

  “I am not thinking something right, but this would be easier outside in open area.”

  “I don’t think they have an outside like at home. This is another realm. I heard that Queen Flaevynn can’t leave the tower because of some curse. If the TÅμr Medb realm included land like Treoir does, we’d probably be able to see it through the windows. We’d have windows.”

  Lanna got that not-ready-to-quit look on her face and vanished, reappearing in the middle of the room.

  Evalle clapped. “There you go.”

  “That is simple,” the girl muttered. “We need to travel much farther to escape. I must go from one room to another before I can go distances.” She walked to the corner farthest from the bathroom and vanished again.

  Then thunked the same door.

  Evalle winced when Lanna appeared, rubbing her head this time. “Take a break, okay. And don’t try to go anywhere outside these two rooms.”

  “I gave my word.”

  “Didn’t mean to insult you. Just don’t want you teleporting into Flaevynn.”

  “Evalle?” a brusque male voice called from outside the room.

  Lanna dove into the bathroom, pulling the door almost closed and flipping off the lights.

  Surprised to get any notice before someone popped into her new holding cell, Evalle answered in her surly I-haven’t-had-coffee-yet voice, “What?”

  “The queen wants to see you. Get dressed.”

  “Why? Nudity bother her?” Not that Evalle was leaving here without clothes on.

  “No, because I’m opening this door in sixty seconds.”

  The chuckle at the end of that belonged to Tristan, who would call her bluff.

  Crap. Evalle scrambled out of the bed in nothing but her panties. Kizira must have supplied the clothes that Evalle and Lanna had found in a wardrobe, in both their sizes. When Evalle couldn’t locate a bra, she yanked on a gray T-shirt and jeans and was zipping up her boots when Tristan opened the door.

  Evalle shoved back a mass of hair that had yet to see a brush and stood.

  Tristan, on the other hand, looked as if he’d just showered before putting on a long-sleeved powder-blue knit top and black jeans. Dressed for success at Medb Inc? He stepped inside, closing the door, then gave her a decidedly male once-over.

  Where was her dagger when she needed it?

  Kizira had relieved her of it during teleporting last night. “Look at me like that before I’ve had coffee and I’ll hand you your gonads in a jar.”

  “Damn, you’re evil in the morning.”

  “You have no idea.” Especially after a night of dreaming about Storm, who might have had to fight his way to freedom, if he hadn’t decided to make good on his promise to destroy the place. She hoped not. She wanted him safe and missed him so much she felt physically ill. “What does the queen bitch want, Tristan?”

  “That’s not the right attitude if you want to survive being here.”

  “I don’t want to be here to begin with.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have shown up last night,” Tristan snapped back at her, but that wasn’t anger behind his words. She heard concern and guilt when he added, “I wish you hadn’t.”

  Evalle walked over to him, keeping her voice down. “Work with me and we’ll get out of here.”

  “I’m trying to find a way to get you and Petrina out, but you can’t depend on me. Flaevynn has Kizira compelling all of us. I can only talk about something I haven’t been forbidden to discuss, and I can’t do anything to help you escape.”

  “What does Flaevynn want with Alterants?”

  “To kill Brina and take over Treoir.”

  “How?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head.

  Evalle growled, “How is that helping me?”

  “You don’t understand. I can’t physically say the words. Just like when I was in the ABC last night, I couldn’t have walked out of there if I’d had an armed escort. Being compelled by the Medb is absolute, but only with regard to what you are specifically compelled to do. So remember that.”

  Drawing back, Evalle said, “You think they’re going to compel me?”

  “I know she is. Don’t fight it. Every time you do, they realize they need to narrow down their orders to you. Go with whatever they say, then figure out how to get around what you can. Just like me talking to you last night at the games.”

  “Kizira said something about resting because the next forty-eight hours would be physically demanding.”

  “She’s right and now it’s less than that.”

  “What’s going to happen?”

  He rolled his eyes and gritted out, “Compelled. Got it?”

  She let go of her anger and finally paid attention. Tristan was enlightening her on what she had to look forward to and how to prepare. “Sorry. Kizira indicated I wouldn’t be staying long. Can you say if that means I’m leaving soon or we all are?”

  “All.”

  “Then we have to get the others to join our resistance so we can escape when we leave.”

  Tristan answered with grim disappointment. “No one is getting out of here until we head to Treoir.” His gaze traveled over her face. “Might want to brush your hair.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m here to escort you. Kizira said Flaevynn and Cathbad are ready to decide if you’re worth keeping alive.”

  “Cathbad?” Evalle thought back on her studying. “Wasn’t he a druid a long time ago?”

  “There was an original Cathbad the Druid who lived during the original Queen Maeve’s rule. The Cathbad here is a descendant. Every six hundred and sixty-six years the torch is passed on, so to speak, to a new Cathbad the Druid and Queen Medb, but Flaevynn isn’t interested in anyone else being queen if she can’t live forever. I’ve gotten parts of the story out of Kizira. Tell you more when I can.”

  “You can start by telling me what you know about the origins of Alterants for the next time I get a chance to talk to Macha.”

  “About that. I was wrong and found out—” Tristan paused, staring past Evalle’s head for a few seconds, then his gaze returned to hers. “Kizira said to bring you now.”

  “You have telepathy with her?”

  “Yes, and you will, too, once . . .”

  “Once what?”

  Tristan shook his head, indicating he couldn’t answer that question. He grabbed her arm and the room spun.

  Teleporting. Couldn’t they walk through this tower?

  THIRTY-ONE

  Cathbad stood beside Flaevynn in front of her jeweled waterfall that functioned as the queen’s scrying wall. Now they would see Evalle fulfill her part of the prophecy, or curse as Flaevynn constantly corrected him. “ ’Tis time for Evalle ta accept her destiny.”

  On a sound of disgust, Flaevynn lifted her hands and moved them across each other. A two-story wall of water cascaded over precious gemstones. Diamonds, rubies and more, many as large as his head. When she lowered her arms, a wide-screen image revealed a picture of Evalle standing alone in a pit deep inside the tower that was known as the arena.

  Titanium bars covered the only exit for walking out.

  Evalle stood in the middle of the room, looking up, down and around. “Helloooo. Thought queenie was looking for me.”

  Flaevynn’s waist-length black hair separated into a pile o
f thick tendrils that raised and twisted, hissing.

  “Calm down, Flaevynn. Evalle wants ta get a rise from ya so you’ll come face her.”

  “You’re sure we need her?”

  He smiled at the edge in her voice. Flaevynn would not get her way with this. “If ya kill her ya might as well start celebratin’ your last birthday now.”

  “Yo, mama,” Evalle yelled. “Listen up. I’m no one’s bitch and I don’t give a rat’s ass about your test. You screw with me, you’ll bleed.”

  Flaevynn’s hair twisted into a knot of squirming locks. Cathbad groaned under his breath. Flaevynn was reaching the limit of what little patience she possessed.

  He’d best be keeping her busy. Cathbad told Flaevynn, “Conjure the image of Tristan’s sister the way I told ya so that Evalle can no see her, but anyone else can.”

  A battered image of Petrina appeared on the floor not a foot from Evalle. Blood pooled around the body from multiple stabs.

  He asked, “Does Tristan know about his sister yet?”

  “He’s being told as we speak. You’re sure Evalle can’t communicate telepathically with Tristan?”

  “No until she’s linked ta Kizira. ’Tis why I said to wait until all the Alterants become gryphons for Kizira ta bond with the new ones.”

  “Are you sure Evalle will evolve into a gryphon if she kills another gryphon?”

  “Yesss, Flaevynn.”

  “If she’s so important, maybe we should have her kill a wyvern like Tristan did.”

  “No. I have no told ya wrong yet. I had Tristan kill a wyvern just ta show you how this works, but Evalle is far more powerful. We can no make a mistake now. Give Evalle the sword, bloody the end of the blade and open the gate. ’Tis time she embraces her destiny.”

  In the next moment, Evalle held a beautiful Medb sword that dripped fresh blood. She lifted the sword, studying it.

  As the bars vanished, a roar echoed, gaining strength as it neared. Heavy feet pounded toward the arena, then Evalle’s opponent rushed into the room. Now in gryphon form, Tristan took one look at his sister’s body that Evalle couldn’t see and howled in pain, wings stretching wide.

  Green eyes glowed with wrath from his eagle-shaped head.

  Translucent scales covered skin the color of a thundercloud. Wings stretched away from his lion-shaped body when he reared up.

  Evalle backed away a step, lifting the four-foot-long sword with surprising ease in her human form. She called out, “You get your kicks watching people die, Flaevynn? Because that’s what’s going to happen to your pretty pet.”

  Tristan opened his jaws and released a cry of agony, then shot a stream of fire at Evalle.

  She jumped backward, kinetic power allowing her to flip in the air before she landed on her feet. Her face and the front of her arms had been singed red from the blast.

  She freed a hand from the sword and swung a hit of kinetic power at the gryphon, which only rocked the two-ton creature back a step.

  He lunged at her.

  She jumped high in the air.

  Swinging her sword as she twisted, she sliced into a wing.

  That sent the gryphon off balance. He hit as hard as a duck with bad landing gear.

  Cathbad could see why Evalle was touted as not being one to squander an opening in a fight. She spun and leaped on the gryphon’s back, then shoved her sword down between his shoulder blades, straight to his heart.

  He arched up and bucked her once, but finally flopped on the floor.

  She pulled out the blade and stepped off the dead beast. Turning in a circle, she yelled, “Get your rocks off watching some poor thing get killed for no reason? You disgust me.”

  Flaevynn snarled at Cathbad, “She didn’t evolve!”

  “Wait a moment. Would be easier for her if she had already shifted into her Alterant beast form, but she will evolve.”

  Evalle’s arms shook so hard that she dropped the sword. Her back hunched and she started growing. She screamed as if ripped in half. Her clothes shredded as the aqua-blue body of a lion took shape with a golden eagle’s head. Black outlined the predator green eyes and a blend of blue and green feathers covered wings that grew and extended from her back.

  She stretched her neck, looking at her body and pulling a wing into view.

  “She’s perfect,” Cathbad purred. “And that, Flaevynn, is the golden head each of the five chosen gryphons will have.”

  A snarl vibrated through the arena.

  Moving her gryphon form around awkwardly, Evalle froze when Tristan shook his head and wobbled to his feet.

  Flaevynn murmured, “He isn’t dead.”

  Realization climbed into Tristan’s gaze once he took in the Petrina vision and the Evalle gryphon. Wings back, claws extended on his paws, he was ready to kill.

  Leaning forward, Flaevynn warned Cathbad, “Evalle’s not ready to fight. We can’t let them—”

  Tristan opened his vicious beak wide and lunged at Evalle.

  She raised a lion’s paw in defense.

  Tristan hit an invisible wall and bounced backward.

  Cathbad smiled. “She adapts faster than we could have hoped for. Took two days ta get Tristan ready ta fight, an’ he’s strong. Evalle will kill Brina an’ take Treoir for us.”

  “She’s not going to be as easy to break as Tristan. We hold his sister’s life in our hands.”

  “We do no need ta break Evalle, only compel her.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  Tzader stood on the walkway leading up to the castle entrance on Treoir Island, ready to break the doors down.

  He was tempted to dive through that warding and test it, anything to get to Brina. She couldn’t be serious about marrying that guard. Was Macha pressuring Brina to do this?

  How could Macha do this while knowing Brina had been his since they were teens? Maybe Brina had agreed to be engaged to buy her and Tzader more time to figure a way to be together. He wanted the truth from Brina herself. Sen had teleported Tzader so he wouldn’t have to ask Macha or Brina to bring him. He couldn’t cross the castle threshold, thanks to his and Brina’s fathers, but they could speak face-to-face at the castle entrance.

  Guilt plagued him every time he got angry with his dead father, but what the hell?

  A fucking ward on the castle separated him from the only woman he’d ever want.

  Macha appeared next to him. “What can I do for you, Tzader?”

  Since when did the Celtic goddess over all the Beladors act as a receptionist? “Where’s Brina?”

  “Busy.”

  “Doing what?” He shouldn’t take that tone with the goddess, but he fought day in and day out to protect humans and his Beladors. He’d never asked for anything in return.

  That was changing. “I want to talk to her.”

  “I told you she’s engaged. She has plans to make.” A granite bench with a white velvet cushion appeared and Macha sat down gracefully, her sea-green gown moving until satisfied with each fold and ripple. “What else do you want to discuss?”

  Push the issue and get slingshotted back to Atlanta, or suck it up and once more deal with his duty?

  He snorted at himself, a mean sound.

  Like he would ever shirk a duty? “I think Evalle got captured by the Medb.”

  The goddess turned statue still at that. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because we have a report that she entered the Achilles Beast Championship and fought as an Alterant.” He wasn’t sharing anything that Macha wouldn’t find out and might even already know, especially when Sen had been the one to inform Tzader.

  “She fought?” Macha said with a bite. “What happened to the other Alterants?”

  “The Medb took them . . . and Evalle.”

  “Evalle was supposed to bring them back, not join the enemy.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t—”

  “Oh? The way I understood the Medb deal was that they would take Alterants who accepted their offer of immortality.” Macha rose
to her feet now, power glowing all around her.

  Tzader stuck to his main concern. “Regardless of what the Medb offered, Evalle got caught and we have to get her back. I can’t do that if you don’t help me.”

  Macha’s voice turned as cold as an Arctic night. “Evalle swore to me she did not want immortality. If she left with the Medb, she has broken her vow as a Belador and is now the enemy. You will capture her and bring her to me.”

  This hadn’t turned out the way Tzader had expected. He stood, too. “Are you telling me she went there without talking to you about it, because that just doesn’t fit. Not Evalle, who is constantly trying to win your favor and find her place in our tribe.”

  Yes, he was angry, but he’d had enough of Macha’s cryptic games with Evalle. And, if he was really honest, he was pissed that Macha hadn’t tried to help him and Brina get together.

  Macha’s narrowed gaze warned him. “Evalle had a clear understanding of our conversation.”

  Just one time, he’d like to get a straight answer out of the goddess. “But I don’t have a clear understanding of your conversation, which would help.”

  Once again, Macha sidestepped Tzader’s request. “Bring me proof that she did not accept the offer of immortality and I’ll consider that.”

  Tzader would not condemn Evalle without hearing her side. He believed in her commitment to the Beladors.

  The castle door opened and Brina appeared just inside. “Tzader?”

  His chest squeezed with pain at not being able to touch her. He searched for the right words, something he could say with Macha present, but another figure came into view behind Brina.

  Allyn, Brina’s personal security . . . and fiancé.

  The same man Tzader had witnessed standing too close to Brina and acting possessive the last time Tzader had entered the castle in holographic form.

  Macha beamed a maternal smile Tzader quietly scoffed at. “Hello, Allyn.”

  The guard bowed. “Greetings, Goddess.”

  Turning to Tzader, Macha said, “Was there anything else?”

  He sure as hell couldn’t say what he wanted with an audience present. Glancing at Brina, he could swear he saw longing in her eyes . . . and sadness.