by Angie Fox
“This way,” I said, storming through the underbrush. Brush and sticks slashed at my feet and legs.
I could hear Dimitri behind me. He hadn’t pulled out the light, and I sure didn’t need it. I knew where I was going.
“There!” I pointed to a large evergreen tree to our right, shadowy and almost completely dark.
Dimitri shone the Maglite on the fleeing form of a woman.
“Amara?” I yelled.
“Too short,” Dimitri said as we both took off after her.
He was right. Amara stood at least a head taller, and she had long black hair. This dark-haired woman had hers clipped to her shoulders.
Dimitri quickly outpaced me, his light bouncing through the woods and catching the woman. Even as she ran, I felt her rage—like that of a startled beast.
I didn’t know what would happen if she turned around. Would she talk? Would she attack?
Would I have to shoot?
She tore through the woods like she was born to it. Dimitri too. His griffin nature made him faster, more agile. I could hold my own thanks to my demon slayer mojo.
But what did she have?
“Lizzie,” Dimitri stopped dead. “Do you see her?”
I reached out with my senses, past him, around us.
She was close. “She’s—” I nearly screamed when she rushed toward me from the left. I drew a switch star, ready to use it, shocked as anything when she tagged me on the shoulder and ran.
Her touch stopped me cold. I recognized the burning power of it, knew it like a forgotten memento or a memory I couldn’t quite place.
And then she was gone.
“I don’t feel her anymore,” I told Dimitri as he halted at my side.
“What do you mean?” he asked, out of breath.
“She’s gone,” I said, shocked to the core.
“How is that possible?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
Dimitri, bless his heart, didn’t ask again. We made a thorough search of the area and found nothing. When we finally admitted to ourselves that we’d lost her, Dimitri took my hand and led us back to the trail, where we walked in silence.
She couldn’t just disappear. No immediate threat had ever dropped off my radar before.
I didn’t understand it.
She couldn’t go from enraged to benign that quickly. Something had to have happened when she touched me.
Pinpointing that moment of change both comforted me and terrified me.
Whoever that woman was, she’d been using my magic. I knew it in my bones.
I stopped dead. “She’s the one who stole that part of me.”
Dimitri’s features hardened. “We’ll find her.”
“We’d better.” We didn’t have a choice.
“Lizzie.” Dimitri touched my arm. “Are you sensing anything right now?”
I stopped cold. “No.”
“Well, I hear something.”
Dimitri tensed for battle. He flicked off the Maglite and reached for the knife at the back of his belt.
The woods rose thick and menacing on both sides of us. There wasn’t even anything to duck behind. We stood firm, side by side, welcoming the fight.
I held steady, waiting for my emerald to change, hoping it could give me some indication of what we were about to face. It lay flat against my chest.
A beam of light streaked across the trees in front of us. At least it was human.
I hoped.
The switch star in my hand spun and hummed.
Voices filtered down the path. “Are you going to tell her?” a feminine voice asked.
“No,” a male answered. “And you won’t either.”
We waited with our light off and weapons drawn.
Both flashlights trained on us. At the same time, Dimitri blinded them with his light.
“Hold up!” I yelled.
It was Amara and Talos, squinting against the glare.
My limbs tingled with released tension while my heart pinched with disappointment.
Dimitri lowered his high beam. “What are you two doing out here?”
With the dark-haired thief on the loose. Right after the sky turned green.
Amara slapped a delicate hand to her chest. “Dimitri!” Perspiration dampened her cheeks and hairline, and uncertainty rolled off her in waves. “You scared me to death.” She gave a brittle laugh. “We were just checking up on some of the Skye magic your sisters used earlier.”
Right.
“You know what that is?” I asked, pointing to the sickeningly green sky.
Talos all but shivered. “Yes, it means someone is working some scary fucking magic against us.”
“Would you happen to know who?” Dimitri stepped closer.
Talos shook his head. “No. Isn’t that what your demon slayer is supposed to do?”
“While you’re doing what?” Sneaking around in the woods. I didn’t trust either one of them.
Talos stiffened. “I’m trying to keep this entire place from crumbling around us. Look, Dimitri. You know your sisters aren’t strong right now.”
“What’s your point?” Dimitri grumbled.
“Talos has been helping them improve,” Amara said. “Slowly. But something bad happened tonight while we were out trying to help Lizzie.”
Everyone’s eyes settled on me.
Talos sighed. “Before tonight, I’d encouraged your sisters to hold back, to let their powers return gradually. Tonight they tried to use the full force of their magic and discovered they’re growing weaker instead of stronger.”
“Why didn’t they come to me with this?” Dimitri demanded.
“They were devastated.” Talos ran a hand through his hair. “And quite unreasonable. Why women think they can solve their problems with near hysterics is beyond me.”
“We decided to see what we could learn,” Amara said, effectively cutting off her brother. “Their magic is indeed weaker than we expected. In fact, we’re detecting some irregular pathways in the energy guarding the estate.”
That was exactly what we didn’t need. “Are you fixing it?” I asked. Those energies were the only thing keeping my stolen magic in this dimension.
Talos winced. “Not exactly. We’re of the sea. We can observe Skye magic, but we can’t directly influence it.”
“We’re doing everything we can,” Amara said.
But they weren’t telling me everything. Eight years of teaching preschool had given me an instinct for the truth. More than that, the clanging in my head hadn’t gone away. “What’s in your pocket?” I asked, rubbing at my temples, knowing it wouldn’t make a darned bit of difference.
Talos appeared startled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he’d paused for a fraction of a second too long.
Score one for the demon slayer.
“Show us,” Dimitri ordered.
The siblings exchanged glances, and Talos drew out a chunk of Skye stone the size of a billiard ball. It shone in the beam of Dimitri’s Maglite with a brilliance and a fire I’d never seen before.
Talos licked his lips. “It’s Diana’s.” He steeled himself under Dimitri’s glare. “She doesn’t know we have it. Your sisters are going through a crisis of confidence. We promised them we’d do everything in our power to help them.”
Dimitri’s jaw tightened. “Stealing is helping?”
Talos frowned. “It is not stealing, and yes, we are helping. Tomorrow, we’re going to tell them about their failing protective wards. I’d rather not outline the problem without being able to offer a solution, or at least a direction.”
His story made sense, but Talos and Amara didn’t. I was getting a bad feeling about these two.
“We’re not going to work any spells,” Amara said, her voice unsteady. She was sweating like she’d run a marathon.
“Why should we believe that?” I asked.
Facts were facts—they’d stolen from the two people they’d sworn to help.
&
nbsp; “We can’t,” Talos stated. “Not with Skye magic. But this stone is showing us where we need to focus our energies tomorrow.” He ran a hand down his narrow chin. “Walk with us.”
Okay, I’d bite. Dimitri and I gave each other a quick nod, then accompanied Talos and Amara up the path toward the house. We walked about fifty yards up to a slight bend in the trail. “It’s right about here,” Talos said, glaring at his open-mouthed sister.
“Go ahead,” Dimitri ordered.
I stood to Dimitri’s right, a hand on my switch stars, just in case.
Diana’s stone glittered with a life of its own as Talos held it at an arm’s length in front of him. He took a few steps forward, then one to the side. It took a moment for me to realize he was using it as a homing beacon. It led him to the edge of a group of bushes. As he stood near, the Skye stone began to hum.
Talos raised his eyes to the heavens. “Can you see it?”
My stomach tightened as I looked up at the churning green sky. “It doesn’t look any worse than before.” It didn’t look any better either.
If the power of Dimitri’s clan had been compromised…I touched my emerald necklace. A gentle current of magic ebbed and flowed, but it was weak.
Next to me, Dimitri murmured, “Ah yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “A thinning in the protective barrier.”
“Where?” I asked.
“The yellow streaks,” Dimitri said.
I didn’t see any yellow streaks. “Can we fix it?” I asked.
He let his fingers trail down my back, more for comfort than for anything else. “Dyonne and Diana can.”
Amara avoided looking at her brother or us as she reached into a side pocket in her dress and pulled out a folded parchment. “I’ve made a map of the areas most affected.” She spread it out over the ground.
Dimitri shone a light on the map, and I was startled to see exactly how far Dimitri’s lands reached. His estate was the size of a large college campus. On this map, his home practically hovered on the eastern cliffs. The gardens stretched to the north and west behind it all the way to the vineyards and the hills. And to the south and southwest, we were in the middle of a much bigger forest than I’d imagined. It had seemed easier to manage when I’d been on the back of a griffin.
“We’re here?” I asked, pointing to the portion of the trees closest to the house. The woods took up the entire central portion of the map.
“More like here,” Dimitri said, pointing to a red X halfway between the ruins and the house.
Heavens to Betsy. We were going to pass under two more weak spots before we made it back.
If Amara and Talos were telling the truth.
Dimitri seemed to see the weaknesses, which made their story more plausible. Still, I couldn’t get over the feeling they were in this for reasons of their own.
Amara trailed a polished fingertip over the map. “We haven’t surveyed much beyond this immediate area. It’s most important to neutralize any threats to the Callidora and, of course, the house.”
“Yes,” Talos said, folding his arms over his long, thin chest. “We don’t want to overload Diana and her sister tomorrow.”
Oh sure. Because shoring up their ancestral temple and childhood home would be quite enough. Sometimes, these magical people needed to think before they talked.
Dimitri stood. “I understand what you’re doing, but I don’t think my sisters will be very appreciative.”
Right on. These were the people they’d trusted to protect them, and look what they’d done. At least Talos had the consideration to look guilty.
Dimitri took an extra moment to study the man in front of him. “Are you in love with Diana?” he asked slowly.
The other griffin’s mouth parted slightly. “I hardly see what that has to do with the problem at hand.”
Dimitri shook his head. “Fine. Don’t answer. But here’s a word of advice. If you want to gain Diana’s affection, don’t keep secrets.” He took the stone from Talos. “And don’t borrow this again.”
I didn’t see Dimitri again that night. Instead, I stood at the window of my room holding Pirate, watching the green sky churn.
His heart pitter-pattered against my palm. “This is one time in my life where I’m glad I’m color-blind.”
“Me too, buddy.” I didn’t want Pirate exposed to this any more than he had to be. I rubbed him between the ears. “What do you say we grab a book?”
Pirate always liked to snuggle with me while I read before bed. Of course that usually meant whiling away an hour or three with Paula Deen or the Barefoot Contessa. I loved cookbooks, even if I never made anything. Pirate just liked the pictures.
“Settle in, young squire,” I said, inviting Pirate to curl up next to me as I cracked open the books I’d borrowed from the Helios library.
We needed to focus on something I could control—like facts. Maybe I’d even learn something important, like what to do next.
I understood griffins were loyal. I knew they treasured their history. The symbols of the twelve clans were carved into the sun of Vergina itself. Still, I wondered just how much we should trust the Dominos clan.
Dimitri considered them allies. His late father had been close to the patriarch of the Dominos. According to Greek mythology the sea and the sky shared an affinity.
I couldn’t help smiling to myself. Amara thought she was talking down to me when she said I was an outsider. Here, it could be an advantage. I had to think it allowed me to see things from a fresh perspective.
The three books weighed a ton as I moved them from the long dresser to the table next to my bed and sank in next to Pirate, who promptly rolled onto his back.
The dog knew what he was doing, because my right hand immediately came into contact with his soft tummy fur.
Absently, I began stroking.
“Oh yeah.” He arched into my hand. “That’s the ticket.”
I opened the volume of family history in my lap and began reading. The villa was older than I thought.
The original building had consisted of the library itself, which had been the study of Sir Nikkos Kallinikos. Eighteenth-century diplomats and statesmen—some of them even human—visited him there.
In the century that followed, Dimitri’s great-grandfather Adelphos built the villa around the library, preferring to have his clan even closer. When the villa was complete, he moved the family and many of their artifacts, including the solid wood banister, from the original house. A pair of antique griffin heads, hand-carved by Nikkos himself, snarled at the ends.
I also learned that Amara had been in the Helios library.
The second book I opened, a large red volume with Greek lettering etched in gold, contained extensive maps of the estate, including one identical to Amara’s—minus her work on the strength of the protective shields. I had to give her points for research and accuracy, even if I didn’t like the idea of her rifling through Dimitri’s things.
Pirate let out a loud doggie yawn. “You know I could go for some popcorn right about now.”
“Pirate,” I warned, turning the page.
“Crunchy. Slathered in butter, with just enough salt to make you think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“Pirate.” I’d probably gained five pounds since my dog learned how to talk. He had a habit of talking me into snacks I wouldn’t have even considered before.
“I don’t think they have popcorn downstairs,” I said. Besides, I wasn’t about to go snooping in Dimitri’s kitchen. His library was quite enough.
But Pirate was on a roll. He pawed the bed next to me. “I’ll bet they have crusty bread. Fresh from the oven.”
“No.”
“Cheetos?”
“No.” I reached for the last book.
He tilted his head. “What are you doing, anyway?”
“I’m trying to learn more about the griffin clans,” I said, cracking open the worn volume.
“Ahh.” He sniffed the pages.
> I began reading, very much aware of my doggie watching me.
“You know, you could just ask Dimitri,” he said.
“I could.” And I had. “I’m looking for the kinds of things he might not think to tell me”—or that he would refuse to tell me so that I didn’t worry.
Well, I liked to worry.
It made me feel safer.
“Like look at this,” I said, after a few more minutes of reading.
I directed Pirate to a foldout page where some of the family trees intersected. “They know each other. They work with each other. And at first glance, they seem to be one big happy family.”
“Well that’s nice,” he said.
“Is it?” I asked. “Take a look at how the lines cross. A female griffin can marry into another clan, but it’s a single crossing-over. And then she seems to be almost absorbed by her new people.”
“Well, you know,” he said, curling up next to me. “You get busy. You forget to call. It’s hard to write. You lose your pen.”
Yeah, well I had a feeling it was more than that. “And listen to this.” I read some of the entries to Pirate.
Cronos the Conqueror.
Patrikios the Heartless.
“These read like the histories of the Scottish clans.”
“Ohh…I liked Braveheart.”
Television and popcorn. I had to get my dog on a better routine.
“What I mean is that while griffins are intensely loyal, they seem to focus that loyalty on their own clans.”
“So they’re no good at sharing?” Pirate asked.
“Or coming together.”
“But those Dominos people are friends, even if they did bring along a cat.”
“Oh I know that.” And if Amara had her way, she’d be a lot more than friends. “Dimitri seems to trust them. And they did pledge themselves to protect this place.”
I looked up clan oaths. They were rare—and binding.
But I didn’t know exactly what they’d pledged. Or what kind of loopholes a two-thousand-year-old griffin clan might be able to uncover.
I did know enough to keep my eyes open.
By morning, the oppressive sky had dissipated. Only a few scattered clouds held tinges of pea green sludge. I met Dimitri and his sisters at the breakfast table.
