by K J Taylor
‘We do,’ said Caedmon.
‘Llygad, is there enough food here now?’ Heath interrupted.
Llygad glanced at him. ‘There is, Conqueror of Griffin. The thin time is over. Come.’
With that, the discussion was over. Caedmon could scarcely believe it had been that simple. Just what had Heath promised them? he wondered, as he and the others followed Llygad and his friends.
The lost tribe’s home was hidden among the trees, and consisted of a cluster of small shelters that didn’t really qualify as huts. They were made from wood and bark, in odd humped shapes that would make them look like heaps of dirt from above. Thick layers of pine needles covered each one, probably put there deliberately for insulation, and a thin column of smoke rose from a small hole in each roof.
As the newcomers arrived, the rest of the tribe emerged to see them. Caedmon counted about twenty of them: men, women and a handful of emaciated children. The children ran excitedly toward Heath, whose familiar smile finally returned. ‘Hello! It’s good to see you all again too. Look at you, Bryn, you’re nearly as tall as I am now!’
Caedmon chuckled. ‘You’re popular.’
‘Oh, I can’t help it,’ Heath said gravely. ‘I just seem to attract people like this, you know. Anyway, you’d better talk to Llygad. He’ll get you settled in.’
Sure enough, the thin-faced chieftain was already waiting patiently for them to turn their attention back to him. A woman had come to join him, and he spoke quickly to her before he addressed Caedmon. ‘You will come with me on the hunt. This is my wife, Gwladus. The women will go with her and learn the things women must know.’
Myfina gave Caedmon a slightly sour look, but she went along politely with Gwladus, a weatherbeaten woman who reminded Caedmon of Saeddryn.
Meanwhile, Shar and Garsh were looking to Echo. The spotted griffin, satisfied that the humans had been accepted, flicked his tail. ‘I am going to my island,’ he said. ‘Come with me.’
‘We shall,’ said Shar. ‘But we will see which of us owns this island by nightfall.’ She was already tensing in anticipation.
‘We will see,’ Garsh agreed.
Heath seemed to have guessed what was being said. ‘I’ll go with you, Echo,’ he said.
Myfina overheard him. ‘Aren’t you going to stay with us?’ she asked. ‘You should at least get some rest and have something to eat before you go.’
Heath shook his head. ‘I’m not hungry. And I don’t want to intrude. I feel like some time alone right now.’
Echo had crouched to let him remount. He did, with some effort, and the spotted griffin flew away with Shar and Garsh in tow.
Saeddryn watched them go, and her eye narrowed. ‘I’m in the mood for some explorin’,’ she said. ‘I’ll be back by nightfall.’
‘You must not wander,’ Llygad interrupted. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
Saeddryn inclined her head toward him. ‘I go where I want, Llygad,’ she said, politely but firmly. ‘There’s no danger for me.’ Without waiting for an answer, she strode off into the trees.
Caedmon shrugged awkwardly. ‘She’s stronger than she looks,’ he said. ‘Now …’ He turned to Llygad. ‘I’m ready to learn whatever you have to teach me, and to do what I can to help.’
‘Then we will begin now,’ said Llygad.
Saeddryn was in her element. She slunk through the forest, drinking in the scents and sights. With her heightened senses, any environment was a feast to her, but she had come to prefer natural places like this. They made her feel safer, and closer to her master.
Just because she could, she broke into a run. Even though she had been able to do it for a long time now, she still thrilled at the speed and grace of her running. The rough ground passed effortlessly beneath her. On a whim, she slipped into the shadows and felt her speed and strength double instantly. She ran all the way to the other side of the island in no time at all, and when she reached the channel between it and its neighbours she impulsively leapt straight into it. She landed in the water, not noticing the icy shock of it at all, and began to swim. This was the first time she had swum like this, and it was as easy as running.
She reached the other side and stepped out onto the shore, leaving the shadows to inspect the new island. It was one of the two smaller ones Heath had described — she could see the second off to her right.
The island she had reached was high and rugged, nearly mountainous, and as thickly forested as the one where Llygad’s tribe lived. The air was heavy with the scent of conifer trees — and something else. A wild, musky odour reached her nose, faint but striking. It was a smell she knew very well.
‘Griffins,’ she said aloud, looking up to see the huge, winged shapes that circled overhead.
I didn’t think there were any wild griffins left in the North, Arenadd remarked.
‘Me either,’ said Saeddryn. ‘But it’s good. Our griffins will learn from them. Nobody fights like a wild griffin.’
Exactly. Why did you think Skandar is so powerful?
‘He’s huge,’ Saeddryn pointed out with a smile.
He’s wild. Always was. Arenadd sounded proud.
‘If only he were on our side.’
If only, said Arenadd. But you probably shouldn’t keep talking to me. You’re not alone.
Saeddryn fell silent and moved further inland to investigate. Sure enough, a human scent soon caught her attention. She followed it, and found Heath sitting on a rock further along the beach, looking out to sea. He was alone, wrapped in his griffin hide.
Saeddryn stood and watched him for a while. Heath, not realising she was there, rested his chin on his hands and muttered something to himself. His shoulders were hunched. Saeddryn took in the smell of him, but she didn’t need to. She had already long since noticed what was in it.
‘Heath,’ she called.
He glanced quickly over his shoulder in surprise, but just as quickly returned to his former posture. ‘What can I do for you, Shadow That Walks?’
Saeddryn made up her mind, and moved closer. ‘Caedmon an’ Myfina have noticed how yer acting nowadays. They’re worried about ye.’
‘Kind of them,’ said Heath. He didn’t sound as if he were joking.
‘I think ye should spend more time with them,’ said Saeddryn. ‘They need ye. They’re both troubled, an’ afraid — Caedmon especially. Ye make them feel better, Heath.’
‘I’m good at that,’ said Heath. ‘And I would, but … I’m not feeling up to it just now.’
‘But ye need them too,’ said Saeddryn. ‘People need people.’
‘Yes, yes, you’re right. I’ll go back there later, once they’re settled in. I’ve got things to think about first.’
‘I don’t think yer going to find the answer yer after, Heath,’ Saeddryn said, with unaccustomed gentleness. ‘Not here.’
‘No, I don’t think I will,’ said Heath. His voice was full of despair.
Saeddryn could see the shape of him under the heavy griffin hide, could see the frail tremble that Caedmon and Myfina had missed. ‘You’re dying,’ she said.
‘I think I am,’ said Heath.
‘Ye are,’ Saeddryn said flatly. ‘I can smell it on ye. There’s poison spreading through yer blood. It’s killing ye.’
‘I know,’ said Heath, without turning around. ‘You’d be the expert, I suppose.’
‘I am,’ said Saeddryn.
Silence, for a time.
‘People seem to die a lot around you,’ Heath said suddenly, and bitterly. ‘But I imagine you’re used to it by now. I just wonder who’s going to be next. Caedmon? Myfina? It’s already happened to everyone else you threw in your lot with.’
He turned now to stare dully at her. ‘I thought you were a blessing for us, but I was wrong. All you ever brought us was death. Death for your partner, death for everyone in Skenfrith, death for me now too.’ His voice started to crack. ‘I’m twenty-nine years old. I loved being alive.’ His fists clenched. ‘I’m not ready to
die.’
For almost the first time since her death, Saeddryn couldn’t find anything to say. She looked at Heath, full of shame, and despair that matched his own.
Heath turned away again. ‘If I’d known how you would repay me, I never would have saved you. I would have left you to rave in that cellar. This is why I never wanted anything to do with heroism before — it gets people killed.’
‘Heath.’ Saeddryn went to him, and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Heath, I’m so sorry …’
‘Don’t touch me!’ Heath threw her hand off. ‘And you’re not sorry, so don’t lie. I know how to read people, and I can read you. You don’t care about us. Death’s a joke to you. When I’m gone you’ll forget me just like you’ve forgotten everyone else you’ve killed.’ He looked at her with hatred. ‘You said it yourself: people need people. And you’re not a person. You’re not human. So leave me alone.’
Saeddryn took a step back. ‘Heath, I …’
‘My name’s not Heath. Go away, Saeddryn.’
Saeddryn shook her head slowly. ‘Heath, whatever yer real name is … I know I’ve never shown it, but … I’m grateful to ye. Ye saved me. One day every man an’ woman in the North will know yer name an’ know that without ye they would never have been set free from the half-breed’s reign. This is a poor way to thank ye, an’ yer right: I bring death with me wherever I go. But I’m gonna do what I can to help ye now.’
‘You can’t do anything for me,’ said Heath.
‘I can,’ said Saeddryn. ‘I’m gonna speak with the Night God. She’s the master of death. I’ll ask her not to take ye. For the sake of all ye did in her name, I’ll beg for yer life.’
Slow amazement spread over Heath’s face. ‘You will?’
‘I will,’ Saeddryn promised. ‘I’ll go an’ pray to her now.’
Don’t waste your breath, Arenadd said as she walked away. He’s done for. Maybe if he’d had proper treatment for those wounds on his chest quickly enough, he’d have recovered. But he’s too far gone now. The infection’s in his blood. He’ll be lucky to last a week. A body can only take so much.
‘I have to try,’ said Saeddryn. ‘I owe it to him. Even if the Night God won’t save him, I can still ask her to take good care of his soul once he’s gone.’
When I was alive, I prayed to the Night God to save me, said Arenadd. She heard me, but I died anyway. Don’t get your hopes up.
‘Hope?’ Saeddryn asked sourly. ‘What’s that? Anyway, I’ve got a better use for ye than floatin’ around here. Go back to Malvern an’ bring me information.’
Right away, beloved. Arenadd’s presence disappeared.
Left alone, Saeddryn selected some rocks for a circle, and began her prayer.
Night in the North. Clouds had covered the moon, but something darker than even that shadow moved across the land.
Arenadd was abroad.
He didn’t know whether he was truly Arenadd any more; he certainly wasn’t a man now, or even a person. The words ‘evil spirit’ kept springing to what passed for his mind. He wasn’t even going to consider the possibility that he might be a good one.
For others, death might mean rest. For him, there was nothing but an eternity of slavery and no hope of oblivion.
Arenadd flew across the land that had once been his kingdom, seeing everything. He had done this many times since his master had sent him back, and the novelty had long since worn off. Still, at least he was fast now.
Malvern’s walls appeared ahead of him. He passed through them effortlessly, and moved on toward the Eyrie. Inside everything was as he expected, full of new people. Laela’s followers, all of them. Most of the griffiners who had lived there when she had come to power were now gone: demoted, or killed during Caedmon’s uprising, or executed for making their own plots against the Queen. Loyalty, it seemed, was not something she had been able to win easily.
He could also sense another, much more disturbing presence in the building. Oeka was still there, or her mind was. As he walked unseen through the rooms and along the passageways, bizarre sounds and visions occasionally flickered around him. Ghostly figures appeared, sometimes frightening some unfortunate mortal, then were gone.
Once he even saw himself, large as life, walking straight toward him. Arenadd turned to watch his past self carry on down the corridor before vanishing. Did my hair really look like that from the back? he muttered to himself.
Either way, there wasn’t much point in lingering over it. Oeka was still causing randomised flashes of past events to appear in the Eyrie. Arenadd could sense her mind wandering invisibly, much as he was doing, no doubt still alert for thoughts of treachery. No wonder Laela had been able to root out any remaining opposition so quickly: Oeka might be mad, but she could still do enough to a traitor to mark them out.
Fortunately for Arenadd, he no longer had a mind to be assaulted.
Still, no chance of Saeddryn lasting long here if she ever decided to return. It was a miracle she had managed to abduct Laela at all; maybe all the unfamiliar minds around her had temporarily distracted the mad griffin. Arenadd didn’t know, and didn’t care enough to try and work it out. Magic wasn’t his area of expertise.
He kept on going up the Council Tower. Now that he’d scouted around a bit, it was time to see what Laela was doing.
She was in her private chamber at the top, in his old bedroom. Arenadd slipped inside to spy on her as he had done many times before. Laela wasn’t alone, but this time there wasn’t likely to be any conversation to listen in on — she was with her new husband, and they were well past the friendly chatting stage.
Arenadd left quickly, surprised that he could still feel embarrassed.
Trying to make me a grandchild, are you? he said aloud. Enjoy it while it lasts, my girl. Maybe you’ll even live long enough to be a mother.
He left Laela and Akhane to enjoy themselves, and went to look in on the only other mortal there who interested him: Skandar.
The dark griffin was in his nest, fast asleep. Arenadd stood over him for a time, watching the massive shape of what had once been his greatest friend. In life, Skandar had been more than a partner: he had defined Arenadd’s entire existence — brought it about, even.
Arenadd had no face for a sad smile. You sleep, Skandar. Sleep and be glad for everything you are. Be glad the Night God never twisted you the way she twisted me. Be glad that you can die.
He wished that he could leave the griffin to his rest, but he knew he couldn’t. Yet again, he reached out and into Skandar’s dreams. Yet again he spoke to him inside his head, whispering to him to join with Saeddryn. The Night God had failed to persuade him, but Arenadd was the only one Skandar had ever trusted.
Arenadd did as his master commanded, knowing that it wouldn’t work. It never did. Skandar did not listen to his dreams any more, and with good reason.
Arenadd repeated the Night God’s words anyway. Then, he whispered his own. Softly. Urgently. Maybe Skandar would listen.
Once Arenadd had said all he had to say, he rested a while in Skandar’s nest. It was the only place where he felt at home now. In the morning, he would spy on Laela again and pick up whatever information he could. He had to take something back for Saeddryn, or she would just send him away again.
Arenadd did not sleep any more. But he still felt weary. Endlessly, deeply. Somewhere inside himself, at the core of his being, he could feel the will of his master always pulling. She owned his existence now, and what remained of his ability to love. She had taken all his hope. How ironic that she had sent him all those years ago to bring freedom to others, but had denied it to him in far deeper ways than with mere chains.
No rest. And no-one to mourn.
The old familiar feeling of self-pity welled up inside him. But there was self-loathing with it. I did this to myself. I let her have me.
Yet besides misery, there was one other part of the old Arenadd Taranisäii left.
The dark spectre drifted aimlessly around Skandar
’s sleeping form, and allowed itself to dream.
One day, his silent voice sighed. One day I will be free. One day …
TWENTY-ONE
BACK TO WHERE IT BEGAN
Surprisingly enough, given the dream he had had that night, Kullervo slept long and deeply. The long flight and the emotional distress that followed had well and truly worn him out, and he didn’t wake up until long past dawn. Even then it was only because Senneck roused him with a rough nudge of her beak.
Kullervo’s eyes opened slowly and he groaned. ‘Wsthat?’
‘You have a visitor,’ said Senneck.
‘Urgh.’ Kullervo sat up and rubbed his face. Senneck’s words finally caught up with him, and he thrust the blankets off himself and turned to see whom she had brought.
It was the boy from yesterday, Red, looking pale and rather red around the eyes. But he sounded alert enough when he said, ‘I’m sorry, sir, I shouldn’t’ve come so early.’
Kullervo shook himself. ‘No no, it’s all right. It was probably time for me to be up. What’s wrong?’
‘I caught him sleeping beside our shelter,’ Senneck interrupted. ‘The guards chased everyone else away, but this one hid.’
Red looked ashamed. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t think of anywhere else t’go.’
Kullervo frowned. ‘Don’t you have a home?’
‘Well …’ Red turned even paler. ‘I mean, no, I …’
‘It’s all right,’ Kullervo said in his gentlest voice. ‘You can tell me.’
Red appeared to pull himself together. ‘Are you gonna stay here, sir? I mean … people are sayin’ you’re here to live with us. Are you?’
‘No. I’m going to move on as soon as I’ve finished talking with Lady Isleen.’
‘Oh.’ Red looked relieved.
Kullervo smiled. ‘Why, don’t you want me to stay?’
Red flushed. ‘Oh! Er, no, I don’t want you to go, it’s just that …’
Senneck finally lost patience. ‘Answer him, you little red rat, before I throw you out!’
Red jerked in fright. But to his credit, he didn’t move away from Senneck. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ he babbled. ‘It’s just that this was my dad’s tent an’ I was living here before you came, and …’
