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

by Derek Alan Siddoway

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The following days passed by slowly, mired in fear and unease that engulfed the entire mountain. Although the Gyr hadn’t entirely felt like home to Eva, she’d grown to enjoy the constant echoes of chatter and laughter resounding through the halls. In the days after the attack, a heavy, oppressive silence settled in its place. The youngest recruits traveled everywhere in small groups, and the older Windsworn walked armed through the halls.

  Each morning, Eva awoke wondering if the mysterious assailant still stalked the Gyr’s passages at night, if she would go to breakfast and hear news of another victim. The worst were the nights when fear plagued her and she stared at the door of her and Sigrid’s quarters, expecting it to creak open at any moment. It made it hard to concentrate in class, and even Celina acted troubled during their bouts.

  Whatever malady affected her seemed to be growing worse. Her face took on the hue of dirty dishwater, and her black hair hung lank around it. Even so, her tutor still moved with the grace and strength of a panther when they fought, and Eva had yet to best her.

  Cassandra soon returned to her duties as the roost master, none the worse for wear aside from the shrinking lump on back of her head. In between lecturing them on gryphon breeding cycles and flight patterns, however, she’d often stop all of a sudden and say something like: “Attacked in my own Roost; to think of it!”

  Eva wasn’t sure if it was Andor’s orders or Cassandra’s wish, but at least two guards in full kit always patrolled the Roost night and day. Seeing the armed men and women only worsened the effect, a constant reminder of the ongoing nature inside the Gyr. More than once, Eva caught sight of a guard or two trailing her as well, which only made her more anxious.

  The one positive from the ordeal was Sigrid. Whatever ill will and bad blood had stood between them evaporated after the night in the Roost. Drawn together by a near-miss with death, the experience led to an unexpected yet growing friendship. With Wynn added in, they made a strange trio of misfits.

  When news of the attack spread the following morning, Eva thought for certain Tahl would have come to ask if she was okay. After a week went by and she saw no sign of the boy, she sank into a slump and told herself she was a fool for thinking he’d ever cared about her. The depressing mood lasted until Sigrid mentioned offhand at dinner one night that Tahl had been with a Wing on a scouting mission. Eva couldn’t help but renew her hope, waiting for him to return.

  Since the incident, visiting Ivan seemed out of the question. Eva heard nothing about the Scrawl afterward and chose to take it as sign that he hadn’t been implicated. When nothing more happened, she convinced herself more and more she’d done the right thing by not telling Andor.

  Caught up with training, studies, and recent events, Eva forgot all about her birthday until a note from Soot arrived via falcon in the barracks. She hadn’t mentioned the attack, but it seemed word had spread into the capital. Between the two, Eva’s foster father demanded she come visit.

  “I can take you on Sven,” Sigrid offered when Eva told her about the letter. “We’ll just have to get leave.”

  Eva’s heart sank. Given the current state of caution in the Gyr, she doubted Andor would let her out of the mountain when he didn’t even want her walking around alone. To her surprise, however, the lord commander agreed at once when Eva and Sigrid asked.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” he said. “Besides, if I didn’t let you go, Soot would knock down the mountain on all of us! Just one condition.”

  “Yes?” Eva asked.

  Andor nodded to Fury. “Leave him here with Cassandra. Given his knack for getting into trouble, I don’t want Fury loose in the city.”

  Eva laughed and agreed at once. When she left Fury with the roost master, however, she felt an unexpected pang of loneliness as Sven rose into the air and Fury called after her on the ground below.

  “You’re like a mother hen,” Sigrid said over her shoulder. “He’ll be fine — don’t let it ruin your afternoon!”

  Sven soared out of the cavern into open sky, and missing Fury soon became the least of Eva’s worries. Since she’d rescued Sigrid, flying didn’t terrify her, but a strong unease still filled her. As the mountain shrank behind them and the city grew below, Eva risked a glance down. The sight of the white buildings hundreds of feet below didn’t send her head spinning…as long as she didn’t look for too long.

  Instead of having Sigrid take her directly to Soot’s forge, Eva directed the girl to set her down outside the gate nearest to the Craftsman District.

  “I grew up in the city,” she said when Sigrid asked why. “I want to walk down a street that doesn’t have a stone ceiling over me and enjoy the open air!”

  Sigrid’s nose wrinkled as they descended. “You mean that stench? The capital stinks!”

  Eva laughed as a whiff from the tanning vats caught them on the breeze. She took a deep breath, inhaling the myriad of smells that defined her childhood. When Sven landed, Eva couldn’t wait to walk down the old, familiar streets.

  “I’ll see you at the forge in a couple of hours!” she shouted to Sigrid as they took back off again.

  Walking down the streets, Eva waved at familiar faces but didn’t stop to chat. She enjoyed the familiar sights and sounds of the Craftsman District but hurried to Soot’s forge, eager to spend as much time with Seppo and the old smith as possible. When her home drew in sight, however, it wasn’t the sight of her foster father that greeted her.

  A half-dozen palace guards stood around a carriage in the yard, two more guarding the door. When Eva approached, the entrance to her house, they stepped in front of her.

  “Sorry, Miss, no one’s allowed inside,” one said.

  “What do you mean no one’s allowed inside?” Eva asked “Is something wrong? This is my home!”

  The guard shook his head. “Nothing wrong, Miss. The king has asked for a private conversation with Master Wayland.”

  Eva gaped at the man. “The…king?”

  Before the guard could respond, the door opened and Adelar himself stepped out. Bewildered, Eva sank down on one knee and dropped her head the ground. She felt a hand touch her shoulder. “There’s no need for that here,” the king said.

  “I apologize, Sire,” Eva said, the words running together. “I came to visit Soot on leave for the afternoon. I didn’t know —”

  Adelar cut her off with a wave. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I…” he stared at Eva. After several moments, she dropped her gaze to the ground, uncomfortable. “I hear your studies are going well?”

  “Yes,” Eva said, cringing at the thought of what the king might have heard about her tenure with the Windsworn so far. “Very well, Sire.”

  “Good.”

  Neither of them spoke. After another long pause, Adelar cleared his throat. “I was just on my way. Enjoy your visit with your…with Soot.”

  Eva bowed as the king passed, pausing at the door to watch his retinue fall in behind him on the way to the carriage.

  “That’s something you don’t see every day, huh?”

  Spinning around at the sound of Soot’s voice, Eva rushed through the doorway into the old smith’s arms. “Soot!”

  Eva’s foster father gave a rare laugh as he patted her on the back, hard enough to jar Eva’s vision. “By the wind, it’s good to see you, girl!” He held her back at arm’s length, examining Eva up and down. She didn’t know if Andor had mentioned her sparring match with Sigrid, but by now the bruises and cuts were gone. “You sure look lean and mean.”

  “What was the king doing here, Soot?” Eva asked as the carriage pulled out into the street and the guard fell in behind on their horses.

  The old smith looked up and watch the royal succession leave. His brows furrowed for a moment before he noticed Eva watching. “Oh that? Just a visit — let’s go find Seppo. We’ve got something to show you.”

  Eva opened her mouth to object, but Soot led her by the arm out to the forge. She co
uld hear Seppo pounding away at the anvil. A wave of longing overcame her and — for a moment, at least — Eva forgot all about the king’s visit, taken back by the sound of hammer striking hot metal.

  “Hey, you rust bucket!” Soot shouted over the din. “We’ve got a visitor!”

  Seppo’s helmeted head turned their direction, and his round blue eyes seemed to glow bright when he spotted Eva beside Soot. Tossing his hammer aside, the golem bounded toward them, crossing the distance in less than three steps and swept Eva off her feet.

  “Put me down, you big hunk of iron!” Eva shouted, laughing. After a few more tosses, Seppo relented and studied her much as Soot had just done, gauntleted hands on his hips.

  “It is good to see you, Mistress Evelyn,” he said, metallic voice ringing.

  “It’s good to see you, too, Seppo,” Eva said, still smiling. “What do you have to show me?”

  “Wait there,” Soot said. He entered the forge and came back with a long wooden box closed with a silver clasp. It was about as long as Eva’s arm and just wider than her hand.

  “Happy birthday,” Soot said, holding it out to her. “I was going to see if Andor would let you go for a day sometime to give it to you, but it looks like you beat me to it.”

  Eva swallowed a lump in her throat and looked down at the box to blink away a tear. Loosening the clasp, she lifted the lid and gasped.

  It was a sword, the most beautiful weapon Eva had ever seen. The polished blade rippled like water in the sunlight, its hilt inlaid with silver and fashioned into a pair of wings. A talon clutching a round blue stone sat in the end of the pommel. Her hands fit just right on the grip as she lifted it out of the case.

  It felt like holding a breeze — true master’s work. When she held the sword up to the light, Eva saw a small letter etched into the base of the blade. A chill ran through her as she recognized Soot’s maker’s rune.

  “I hope you never have to use it,” Soot said, “but if you do, it will serve you well.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Eva said in a hushed voice, eyes locked on the waves of metal in the blade, the product of countless folds.”

  “Aye, it’s not bad work,” Soot said. Eva caught the pride in his voice.

  Eva lowered the blade and looked at the smith, confused. “But you don’t make weapons; you’ve told me that a hundred times!”

  Which was true. Eva couldn’t count the number of men and women who’d approached Soot over the years, requesting a sword, knife, or some other weapon. Each time, her foster father told them no, regardless of the price they offered. In most cases, it was more than they could make in a year forging scythe blades, plows, and other farm implements.

  “We create things that help life grow, not take it away,” Soot told Eva every time she grew frustrated watching another lucrative client walk away. Over the years she’d come to understand a little better what the old smith meant, but Eva suspected there were deeper reasons involved that Soot refused to bring to light.

  “It’s the best thing Seppo and I could do to protect you,” Soot said as Eva laid the sword back inside the box, noticing the scabbard and belt inside as well.

  “It might be a sword, but it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Eva said, embracing Soot and Seppo again. She meant every word, although the thought of using the weapon in battle terrified her.

  They returned to the house, and Soot Eva down at the table, grilling her on everything that’d happened since she’d left for the Gyr. Again, Eva omitted the part about her fight with Sigrid. She also didn’t tell Soot about her encounter with Ivan the night of the attacks, although the smith knew most of that from Andor, it seemed.

  “Be careful, Eva,” Soot said, brow furrowing. “Andor’s right — there’s something going on up there, and I don’t like it one bit.”

  Eva saw her opportunity to the steer the conversation in her favor and seized it. “Speaking of things going on,” she said, “Why did the king just happen to come pay you a visit?”

  Soot cleared his throat and found a sudden interest in the roof. “I told you, just a visit. He…he wanted me to make him a new helmet.”

  “You don’t make arms or armor for anyone,” Eva said, nodding to her sword, sitting on the table. “I thought this was an exception?”

  “Well, you don’t just tell the king no, do you?” Soot said, eyes roving everywhere where Eva sat.

  Eva fought her rising frustration, knowing already Soot wouldn’t tell her anything. Instead, she decided to try another tactic. “I heard you took part in the Great Eastern Expedition; how come you never told me that?”

  Beads of sweat gathered on the old smith’s forehead, but from anxiety or anger, Eva couldn’t tell. “Who told you that?” he asked.

  “Oh, a little bird,” Eva responded, glancing away.

  “I highly doubt a little bird told her,” Seppo chimed in from the window where he’d been listening. “At least, I’ve never met one that talks.”

  Soot shot a sideways look of disgust at the golem. “It’s a figure of speech.”

  “Answer the question!” Eva said.

  Soot folded his arms, frowning. “We went exploring to the east, nearly died a dozen times, and came back with nothing to show for it.”

  “Excuse me!” Seppo said, indignant. “What do you mean, nothing to show for it? You found me!”

  Soot rolled his eyes. “And nothing to show for it but a walking, talking tin bucket that never shuts up.”

  “Are you talking about me again?”

  Eva shot Seppo an exasperated look of her own. “If that’s all there is to tell, how come you never mentioned it to me before?”

  “Because I left that life behind,” Soot said. “Trust me, Eva, it’s better not to get involved in grand journeys and honorable causes. People get hurt, and the next thing you know you’re raising their child, and —”

  Soot’s eyes went wide, realizing what he’d said, and silence engulfed the room.

  “What,” Eva said, trying to control her breathing, “does that mean?”

  “You shouldn’t have said that, Soot,” Seppo said from the window. “You should not have said that.”

  “What do my parents have to do with the Great Eastern Exploration?” Eva continued. “You told me they died when Juarag raiders attacked their homestead.”

  Soot stared at her for a long time. “I…I’m not the one who can answer that, Eva.”

  Eva opened her mouth but had no idea what to say. Nothing made sense. Before she could form any kind of response, a knock came at the door. and Sigrid poked her head in. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Furious, hurt, and confused, Eva stood and turned for the door. “No,” she said. “I was ready to leave, anyway.”

  “Eva, wait,” Soot said, walking toward her.

  Eva shook her head. “Don’t. If you cared about me, you’d tell me the truth. What is going on?”

  Soot swallowed. “It’s not…I can’t.”

  “Goodbye, Soot,” Eva said. Before the smith could say anything else, she pushed past Sigrid out hurried toward Sven.

  “Eva, wait!”

  Tears falling, Eva refused to turn around. She waited at Sven’s side until Sigrid approached, holding her sword in its scabbard.

  “He wanted me to bring this,” Sigrid said in a quiet voice.

  “Leave it here,” Eva said.

  “Eva —”

  “I said leave it here!”

  Ignoring her, Sigrid slid the weapon through the straps on the side of her saddle and secured it into place before climbing onto Sven’s back. She stretched out her hand for Eva, who almost ran away. Instead, she let Sigrid pull her, numb and empty, into the saddle.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Summer faded into fall. On the mountainside, the scattered scrub oak trees painted the dull gray rock they clung to with vibrant tones of yellow, orange, and crimson. Below the Gyr, the white marble of Gryfonesse stood like an island surrounded by seas of golden f
ields and painted woodland.

  Although the days were warm, mornings in the Roost proved frigid. Oftentimes, a layer of frost covered the cavern rim. Drill Master Cross, Portridge, Cassandra, and the rest drilled and lectured them at a punishing pace. Almost before Eva realized, the first hints of winter found their way in the Gyr. In no time at all, the fledgling recruits would begin their trials.

  Since her visit with Soot, Eva had done everything to learn all she could about the Great Eastern Exploration. As before, though, her efforts produced few results. None of the books in the library had any account of the event, and when she asked Instructor Portridge or Celina about it, she got the same answer as before. That was when she even saw Celina. Her sickness growing, the commander had canceled a number of their trainings, and Eva worried if the woman would ever recover.

  She’d also thought about asking Andor, but the lord commander couldn’t ever be reached when Eva tried. Whether he was avoiding her or just swamped as stories of even more Juarag raids came from the frontier, Eva didn’t know. Regardless, weeks passed, leaving Eva no closer to uncovering the answers she sought.

  After yet another failed attempt to gain an audience with Andor, Eva made her way down back to the barracks, choosing to skip the larger, busier passages. Word had spread — Eva guessed thanks to Wynn’s gossiping among the new recruits — about Eva’s role in saving Sigrid during the night of the attacks. That combined with the rumors of her private training with Celina and the anomaly of Fury made it hard to get anywhere inside the Gyr without a dozen different people stopping to make small talk.

  “Eva?”

  Eva groaned as a voiced called out behind her. But when she turned around to see who it was, she squeaked in surprise. It was Tahl. He jogged to catch up, smiling. Although Eva hadn’t seen him since the attacks in the Roost, the familiar weightless, spinning sensation filled her.

  “Got someone meeting you down an empty side tunnel?” It sounded like Tahl was joking, but Eva fancied she heard a touch of jealousy in his voice. Or had she imagined it?