Windsworn: Gryphon Riders Book One (Gryphon Riders Trilogy 1)

by Derek Alan Siddoway

  “Stop by when you can,” the smith said, his gruff voice strained. “You hear, Andor? You send her to visit.”

  Unable to speak, Eva rushed forward and embraced the only father she’d ever known. She felt Soot’s thick arms enfold her and sobbed into his coarse shirt.

  “None of that now,” Soot whispered in her ear. He held Eva at arm’s length and wiped away the tears from her aching red eyes. “Show ’em what you’re made of, eh?”

  Andor walked away toward his gryphon, and Eva hefted her packed to follow. She was painfully aware of the dozens of people watching, which only made the moment worse. “Goodbye,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I love you, Soot.”

  “I love you, too, girl,” the smith said. The sight of tears running down his face broke Eva’s heart even more.

  Eva turned away and forced herself not to look back again as each step widened the gap between her and the only family she’d ever known. Andor held up a hand when she was about a half-dozen paces from his gryphon. To their left, Sigrid and the Windsworn who’d come for Ivan mounted and rose into the air. Eva ducked her head as dust scattered from the beating wings of the gryphons until they were gone.

  “This is Stormwind,” Andor said, gesturing to his gryphon. The creature looked at Eva and cocked its great gray eagle’s head to the side, clacking its beak. “Go on, say hello.”

  Eva swallowed and took a cautious step toward Stormwind and then another. As she neared, she couldn’t help but notice the way the sunlight gleamed on the gryphon’s vicious beak and curved talons. An arm’s length away, their eyes met, and Eva froze.

  “It’s okay,” Andor said behind her. “Go on, say hello. Hold out your hand.”

  Growing up in a forge with a one-handed smith had taught Eva to be careful where she stuck her appendages but she raised a shaking hand anyway and tried not to shy away as Stormwind nudged her open palm.

  “Good, Eva,” Andor said. “You can pet him now, if you want.”

  Stepping closer to pet the gryphon was about the last thing Eva wanted, but on the other hand, disobeying the lord commander first thing didn’t seem like a good idea either. Stormwind nudged her hand again, and Eva relented, running her hand down the feathers of his powerful neck. Up close, the gryphon seemed even bigger — Stormwind’s back stood as tall as Eva’s shoulder, but his muscular frame and wings made the creature seem twice as big as a horse.

  Andor’s hand fell on her shoulder and guided Eva around to Stormwind’s backside as the gryphon spread his wings for them to mount. Once he’d taken his seat in the saddle, the lord commander jerked his head for Eva to join him. Heart pounding, Eva could hardly think straight as Andor pulled her up behind him.

  “I, uh…” Was it too late to tell Andor that heights scared her? Would that disqualify Eva from being Windsworn and put an end to the madness? She glanced at Soot and Seppo, watching from the awning of the forge and wanted to yell at them to save her.

  “What’s that?” Andor said over his shoulder.

  “Never mind,” Eva muttered, hoping she could shut her eyes and the lord commander wouldn’t notice.

  “All right then, hold on!”

  Chapter Seven

  Andor whistled, and Eva’s insides froze as Stormwind gathered his powerful lion’s legs beneath them. In the next instant, the gryphon sprang forward, and Eva bit back a scream as the creature’s body jerked and lurched beneath her. Concerned more with self-preservation than impressions, Eva clutched Andor so tight she felt his chain mail pressing into her bare arms

  Stormwind’s beating wings blasted cool morning air into Eva’s face, and she felt nothing but emptiness behind her. After a few excruciating minutes when Eva thought she was going to die for sure, they finally leveled off in the air. The gryphon’s wing strokes slowed to a steady tempo, and instead of jolting, Eva felt a smooth rocking motion beneath her.

  “Doing all right?” Andor yelled over Stormwind’s whooshing wings.

  “I — I think so!” Eva replied, hoping her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

  “Good,” the lord commander said. “Would you mind letting go a bit, then? I promise we won’t drop you.”

  Eva wanted more than anything to tell him no, but instead she forced her arms to unclench a few inches. After a few more moments, she cracked open her eyes and found an expanse of blue all around them.

  “Quite the view, isn’t it?”

  A quick glance over Stormwind’s side at the miniature buildings, towers, and streets below sent Eva’s head spinning. After a few moments and a couple of deep breaths, however, she ventured another look.

  Gryfonesse sprawled out below them, its white marble shining like a gem in the midday sun. At their height, the crowded street traffic appeared to be a solid mass rather than individual citizens, wagons, and carts bustling up and down the avenues. Above the people, the king’s banners rustled from turrets and walls, and even the palace’s majesty seemed shrunken.

  Andor whistled again, and Stormwind spread his wings, banking to the north. Below them, acres of fresh-plowed fields, pasture land, and orchards surrounded the city like a giant patchwork quilt. Eva looked to the east and saw nothing but rolling hills and woodlands stretching for miles and miles until they met the periwinkle horizon. In the face of such beauty and wonder, her fear gave way to awe.

  Catching a thermal, Stormwind rose even higher, gliding like they were on a frozen pond. A silver glint showed the river twisting through the trees on the edge of the farmland. And then Stormwind turned again, and Eva saw the Gyr.

  The home of the Windsworn loomed over Gryfonesse like a stern old man watching his grandchildren scurry about at his feet. A spear of raw, pale rock, the Gyr looked like it had been thrust from the earth to cut through the heavens. The snow in the valley had melted weeks ago, but Eva could see a hood of white across the Gyr’s broken peak and other stubborn drifts tucked down into the mountain’s craggy folds.

  A few lonesome, bedraggled pine trees dotted the slopes, jutting out at odd angles from whatever patch of rock their roots could cling to. The first gryphons they saw circling and spiraling around the mountain looked like birds until they drew close enough to see the sunlight glinting on the multiple hues of their fur and feathers. Stormwind screamed, and Eva gritted her teeth against the sudden sound. Moments later, a series of faint cries carried back to them in greeting.

  “Welcome to the Gyr,” Andor said. “The most impregnable fortress in all of Altaris. Legend has it when the first Windsworn settled its peaks, they found a staircase carved into the side of the mountain leading all the way to the halls. The first thing they did was destroy the stair — the only way in our out is through the sky.”

  Eva’s stomach clenched, realizing she’d only be able to leave the mountain through the same terrifying, heart-stopping transportation. The thought made her head spin, and all the fear rushed back at once. Eva clutched Andor in a death grip once more, heart hammering in her chest like Seppo working the forge. She squeezed her eyes shut again, only half hearing whatever Andor was saying.

  “We’ll show you how to care for your gryphon and get you settled in today,” the lord commander said, either ignoring or oblivious of Eva’s mounting terror. “Tomorrow morning you’ll come before the Council.”

  Eva nodded in a daze, not even realizing Andor couldn’t see her. The joy of the flight vanished, and she yearned to have her feet on solid ground — even if that meant the Gyr. Stormwind’s smooth wing beats felt like a ship rocking on the sea, one pitch away from capsizing.

  As if sensing her unease, Andor twisted in his seat. “All right back there?”

  Eva shuddered, chilled to the bone despite her cloak. The brilliant blue sky and summer sun suddenly felt pale and cold. She pressed her eyes closed again and mumbled something in response.

  “We’re coming in to land,” Andor said. “Hold tight!”

  Stormwind dipped forward, and Eva’s insides lurched. Torn between remaining oblivious to
the empty expanse below her and wanting to see how much more she had to endure, Eva peeked out of one eye and saw the side of the Gyr rushing toward them. For a split second, she thought they were going to crash into the mountainside. At the last moment, however, a large shelf materialized, and Stormwind spread his wings to slow their descent.

  As soon as the gryphon’s talons touched down, Eva blew out the breath she’d been holding. Although she’d done nothing more than sit on the gryphon’s back, she felt light-headed and breathless like she’d been running or working in the forge on a sweltering summer day. Her golden hair clung her face, damp with perspiration.

  Andor slid from the saddle and held a hand to help her down. Eva took a cautious step, still swaying. “Are you okay?” the lord commander asked.

  Eva felt the blood rush to her clammy face. “Y-yes.” She took a deep breath and managed a weak smile.

  “Everyone’s first flight is a bit…unsettling,” Andor said. “You did well.”

  The lord commander didn’t seem like the kind of person who said something just to make a person feel better. Even so, unless not falling off was the only bar of achievement for a person’s first gryphon flight, Eva felt she’d already failed her first test.

  Eva followed Andor across the shelf toward a tall cavernous opening in the side of the rock. At the mouth of the opening a young girl waited at attention. She looked to be around Ivan’s age but with her royal-blue uniform and the no-nonsense expression on her face, she seemed much older.

  “Recruit Wynn,” Andor said in a much louder and steelier voice than Eva had heard before.

  The young girl thumped her fist across her chest. “Yes, Lord Commander!”

  Eva swore she saw the hint of a smile behind Andor’s beard. “This is Evelyn, our newest recruit. You will take her to the kitchens and then give her a tour of the Gyr. You’ll find Sigrid has placed your chick in the Roost — Wynn will show you. Afterward, Recruit Wynn, please see to it that Eva is settled into her quarters within the garrison.”

  The girl gave a curt nod. “Yes, Lord Commander.”

  “I will send for you in the morning,” Andor said to Eva. “We will talk before you meet the Council. Until then, try to make yourself at home. Your training begins tomorrow afternoon.”

  Eva nodded, but Andor continued to look at her. “Uh, yes, Lord Commander,” she said, realizing what he was waiting for after a long pause.

  Andor nodded. “Very good; until tomorrow then.” With that, the lord commander left, swinging into Stormwind’s saddle with an ease Eva doubted she’d ever accomplish. The gryphon reared and leaped back into the sky, leaving Eva alone with the Windsworn recruit.

  “It’s good to meet you,” the girl said, offering a hand.

  “Good to meet you. I’m Eva.”

  The young girl rolled her eyes and blew a strand of light brown hair out of her face with an exasperated sigh. “I know that, the lord commander just said so!”

  Eva stared, taken back by the girl’s abrupt change in behavior. But Wynn smiled and grabbed Eva by the hand, leading her into the cavern’s depth.

  “Come on, let me show you around!”

  Chapter Eight

  Wynn set off at a brisk pace, pulling Eva along after her. The tunnel sloped downward but was well lighted by a series of crystal lanterns along the walls. They gave off a warm, yellow glow that grew brighter the farther they traveled from the outside. After a few minutes walking, Eva looked back and found the sunlight had disappeared behind a bend.

  “How do those work?” Eva asked, pointing to one of the lanterns.

  “Magic, of course,” the girl said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The Gyr used to be a fort of the Ancients — I thought everyone knew that. Some of the things they left behind still work, but don’t ask me how. Most of it’s useful, but you’ve got to be careful — there’s tricks and traps hidden, too.”

  “Are they…dangerous?” By now, they were starting to pass people. When they saw Eva, many of them offered a kind hello, then stared until Wynn led her out of sight.

  “Not really,” the girl said, oblivious to the people’s attention. She hadn’t stopped talking since they’d entered the mountain. “Mostly, they’ll just get you turned around, or stuck until someone else comes by to release the trap. You’ll figure out where they are pretty quick, though.”

  Wynn took a turn to the right and continued deeper into the mountain. The tunnel widened enough that two horses and their riders could have ridden side by side without fear of hitting their heads on the smooth, straight ceiling above. Every so often, this main tunnel split off into a side passage or a door. Strange runes, similar to the ones tattooed on Ivan’s body, were carved into the walls. Most could only be seen from the reflection of the lamps, but every so often Eva spied one flickering. What gave off the light, she had no idea.

  The dull murmur of dozens of voices rose ahead of them, but Wynn steered Eva down a smaller side tunnel instead. “That’s the Main Hall,” the girl said, pointing in the direction they’d turned from. “It’s where you’d normally eat, but I got told not to take you there. We aren’t supposed to make a show. We’ll go around back to the kitchens.”

  By the tone of her voice, Wynn almost sounded disappointed. Eva’s stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten all day. There hadn’t been a chance to grab anything before leaving Soot’s forge, and Eva felt pretty sure she wouldn’t have been able to keep it down anyway. Now, the aromas wafting down the small passage made Eva’s mouth water.

  “Not bad, eh?”

  Eva could only nod, sleepy and just a little bit sick after their meal. Delighted to meet the newest Windsworn recruit and the future ride of the red gryphon, the cooks heaped their plates with everything from thick dark bread and early season fruit out of the north to chilled ciders and grilled meat right off the skewer.

  They continued alongside passages to avoid the majority of lunch traffic. After so many dips, rises, twists, and turns, Eva doubted she could even find her way back to the kitchens, let alone the shelf they’d landed on. Soon a new series of sounds filled the air: the dull thwack of wood on wood mingled with shouts and grunts. Without warning, the passage ahead opened up into a balcony overlooking an expansive area below.

  Eva tried to hide her surprise. So far, everything she’d seen on Wynn’s tour made her think the inside of the mountain was all a series of tunnels and caves. But the training ground — Eva guessed that’s what is was by the equipment and people drilling — opened up into an enormous cavern that could have fit Soot’s cottage, forge, and yard in it with room to spare. Below, dozens of recruits sparred with one another, practiced their sword and axe strokes against straw dummies, wrestled, shot bows at padded targets against the wall, and much more.

  “This is the Pit,” Wynn said. “It’s where we all train, no matter how long you’ve been here or what types of weapon you’re assigned. You’ll report here with me and the other fresh recruits tomorrow afternoon.”

  Wynn kept talking while Eva looked wide eyed over the grounds. In one corner, two boys hammered away at each other with wooden short swords in both hands. One lunged and missed, leaving the other an opening. The second boy cracked his opponent on the side of his head and jabbed him in the ribs before the instructor called a halt. Nobody seemed concerned as the boy fell to the ground in a ball, clutching the side of his head. Eva swallowed hard, stomach dropping.

  A series of shouts below drew Eva’s attention away from the injured boy to a large crowd forming on the far side of the Pit from them. The Windsworn recruits surrounded what looked to be a matchup of one against three. Before Eva could ask Wynn about the fairness of such a fight, a sharp whistle blew. The single fighter, wearing only leathers and a light cap, threw themselves at the other three. Although she couldn’t tell at their distance, Eva didn’t think any of the three landed a blow as the solo fighter picked them apart. In short order, each fell to the ground and, after one or two halfhearted
attempts, stayed there. The crowd shouted, and the lone fighter raised their weapons in triumph.

  “By thunder,” Wynn said in a hushed voice. “I heard stories about her, but I didn’t believe them until now.”

  “Her?” Eva asked in surprise. They’d seen plenty of women and girls in Windsworn attire throughout the day, but she found it hard to believe one had beaten three men with such ease.

  “Yeah,” Wynn continued. “I think her name’s Sigrid. One of the lord commander’s personal aides, a real hard ass.”

  Eva thought back to Sigrid’s scowls and coldness and wondered what she could’ve done to cross the dark-haired rider. She made a mental note to stay away from Sigrid, especially in the Pit. The thought of standing across from her in the ring made Eva sick.

  “Come on, no time to stop now.”

  Next, Wynn led her through the Great Archive, whose towering shelves held untold numbers of scrolls and books, the girl said, on anything and everything you could ever want to know about.

  “They say it’s the second-biggest library in all of Altaris — besides the Scriven, anyway.”

  Eva tried to linger, running her hands over the spines of several large tomes, but Wynn dragged her along, down more twisting and turning passages and caverns. She tried to keep track of them all: the armory, filled with weapons of every kind, shape, and size; the storerooms heaped with enough supplies, the quartermaster said, to feed the Gyr for a year; classrooms of recruits being lectured on history, battle strategy; and Eva’s favorite, the baths — caverns dotted with natural pools of shallow water somehow heated by the mountain itself.

  Zigzagging up a wide staircase cut into the stone, they climbed until Eva’s legs burned with every step. At last, after what seemed like a thousand stairs, the path leveled into a tunnel that grew larger the farther they walked down it. Eventually, it opened up into a massive chamber even bigger than the Pit. Wynn called it the Roost, one of the highest points in the Gyr — where the gryphons ate and nested when not with their riders.