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Gryphon's Quest

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by Candace Sams




  Gryphon's Quest

  By Candace Sams

  One

  Gryphon O'Connor watched the Nymphs stroll by and enter the woods. They were the only ones daring enough to get so close, but if their sexual appetites weren't recently satisfied, even he'd seem approachable. He continued his ritual bathing and knew they watched. He could hear their incessant giggling from the shrubs. What difference did it make if they chose to ogle him? They were almost as nude as he. Their race loved nothing more than to expose themselves to anyone in the Order. Many a man whose eyes wandered in their direction had to answer to a jealous mate when he arrived home. But Gryph would never have that particular problem to worry about. There would never be a mate waiting for him. Even the damned Ogres had mates, and they were as lacking in looks as they were brains. Being one of a kind might not have been so bad except he'd had no say in the matter at all. He shook his head and continued to wash. There was no point rehashing that particular subject. His parents' mistake couldn't be undone.

  He glanced toward his black cape and the message secreted within its folds. It had only arrived at his home in the abbey ruins an hour ago. He wondered why the Sorceress' latest summons contained the unusual words, ' Come without delay... no time for explanation.' Her instructions usually gave him dates, times and places for his next assignment, but she had never used language indicating such urgency. Every instinct told him he should have probably left already, but the Sorceress could damned well wait. Any mission she had in mind required preparing his body and spirit and that preparation could only be accomplished by cleansing at leisure in an enchanted pool. Besides, what was she going to do if he didn't jump at her command as he'd always done? Turn him into a creature everyone in the Order feared? Well, it was too bloody late for that. The way he saw it, anything she could do to him would only bring a release from thirty-three years of being a freak. Even in a world where outsiders would deem all inhabitants of the Order as unbearable monsters, he would be labeled the most monstrous of all.

  He swam to the opposite side of the pool, reached for his leather crane bag and began to search within its recesses. A large measure of whiskey usually took the edge off his depressive feelings. Let the old woman wait. He'd done everything she'd ever asked of him, and she still couldn't manage with all her persuasive powers to have him accepted as an equal. He was tired of helping her settle problems within the Order, only to be shunned for having done so. If no one else gave a bloody rat's ass, why should he? After taking a long drink from the bottle, he reached back into the bag for some food. His hand glanced against a heavy object, and he drew it forward.

  Gryphon closed his hand tightly around the quartz crystal and felt its cold edges bite into his palm. Lore had given it to him for luck. He suddenly felt a small measure of shame at having forgotten his friend. Even as a child, the Fairy had sided with him and attempted to befriend Gryphon as best he could. No sooner would the two of them begin to play than Lore's parents would quickly call their son away and chide him for getting too close to The O 'Connor. It was on one rare occasion when Lore's parents weren't present that Lore had given him the crystal. Since then, Gryph kept the stone close and carried it with him almost everywhere. It was a constant reminder that one person in the entire Order wasn't afraid of him. Now, these many years later, Lore was leader of his people. Gryph's responsibilities kept him from seeing the man as much as he'd like, but the Fairy Leader had done more to try to gain his childhood friend's acceptance than the Sorceress ever had. Still, most of the Fairies had minds of their own. The most Lore had been able to achieve was the lessening of tensions when Gryph approached their territory. For that he was grateful, and his feelings of gratitude intensified his guilt. The protection he provided the Order helped Lore and the other Fairies every bit as much as it did the Druids, Elves and the others who disliked him. He just wished they could get over his ability to shape shift into something unusual and let him be.

  "I didn't ask for this," he mumbled.

  More giggling from the trees and bushes alerted Gryph to the fact that the Nymphs were nearby and still watching him.

  "What didn't you ask for, creature?" one voice asked.

  "I was speaking to myself, Nymph. Go away!" Gryphon took another long drink of whiskey, angry he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. Angrier still that he was, to them, a creature. Not just another member of the Order.

  "Do you want some company?" the disembodied voice questioned.

  "Go away," Gryph repeated, emphasizing the words so she'd understand he didn't want them near.

  Gryphon watched as one black-haired Nymph crawled toward him from her hiding space. Her full breasts swung from beneath a thin white veil of fabric. This, in turn, was twisted about her slim, blue body as if she'd been writhing in the nearby ferns. Even from several feet away, he could tell he wasn't the only one in the sacred woods to have been drinking. Maybe that was the reason the little chit had the nerve to come near him. The smell of alcohol clung to her like gum to the bottom of a shoe. It wasn't a very flattering come-on when a damned woman had to drink herself into a near stupor just to approach him.

  "What part of go away did you not understand?" Gryphon snapped at the approaching figure.

  "Don't be so abrupt with me, O'Connor. I'm only offering a little...companionship."

  "You're drunk."

  She laughed and fell forward. Her outstretched hands reached for him. "I know. I have this wager with my sisters."

  "Wager?" Gryph snorted.

  "They want to know if you're as well endowed as the other Druids we've known. I'm betting you are. I mean...a creature like you must be well-favored, so to speak. Everyone says you're huge when you shift. We can see you when you fly, but can never get close enough to really get a good look at your bottom half. We're just waiting for you to leave the pool so we can see."

  Angrier than he could remember being in a long time, Gryphon pulled the woman forward and into the water with him. Her shrieks of laughter did little to calm his rage. "Go back to where you came from and tell your little bitch sisters to leave me alone. I don't have to take this from you. ANY OF YOU!"

  He pushed her away and reached for his clothing. The woman's laughter and that of the others rang in his ears. Gryphon grabbed his belongings as he hefted his weight from the water. This was the last, the final outrage he was going to put up with. He should have just taken the girl right then and there, but something in him couldn't sink so low as to have sex with a woman who didn't know what she was doing.

  "I win. He's marvelous," one of the Nymphs observed as she caught site of Gryphon's exposed body. Her sisters joined her in a round of bawdy whoops and whistles.

  "Bloody damned Nymphs," he muttered as he stumbled away while pulling his clothing on.

  To cool his anger, Gryph took the longest route through the ancient forest, or Shire, as it was known to the Order. Doing so cost him more time, but he found himself wanting to see the Goblin Meadow. It was here that his heart always found a little peace. Glancing up at the sky, he knew it was about time for the children to be allowed out to play, and he dearly wanted to watch. His warrior's soul found a calming influence in their innocent antics.

  He waited by a nearby tree until their laughter reached him. In spite of his anger with the Nymphs, a smile drifted across his face. Tiny forms approached as they danced and cavorted with Pixies. Some of the Fairy children had their wings out and they glittered like jeweled gauze. In the deepest part of him, Gryph desperately wanted a child of his own. But he'd long since resigned himself to the fact that what he wanted just didn't matter. So, he assuaged his longings by watching the children of others.

  A little girl ran straight toward the tree where he waited. She had a tiny fistful of flowers and la
ughed as if there were no problems on Earth too terrible or demanding. Her life was one beautiful adventure. Gryph's tough heart reached out to her, wishing he could have been that carefree in his youth.

  Sensing the presence of another, the girl stopped and looked into the edge of the woods. She walked straight toward Gryphon and stopped when her eyes made out his form.

  "Hello," she smiled up at him.

  There seemed to be no fear in her at all.

  "Hello, little one." He stooped down so he could speak to her on an even level.

  "I got some pretty flowers. Want some?" She handed part of the bouquet of wild trillium to him.

  Gryph laughed and brought his hand forward to take the small offering. He abruptly stood when a loud voice rang out.

  "Lily, get over here this instant!" A tall woman ran forward and pulled the little girl to her. She glared at him and walked away with the child, scolding her for getting too close to the 'gryphon. '

  He stepped back as though he'd been slapped. There was no way, in this life or any other, he'd harm a child. That the toddlers were being taught to stay away from him hurt far worse than anything the Nymphs could have possibly said or done. It wasn't as though he was a stranger to these people. He swiftly turned so that those adults who were entering the meadow couldn't see the tears in his eyes. In that instant, he hated them all.

  Gryphon strode away without acknowledging a soul. Had he looked back, he would have seen Lily waving at him and ignoring the condemning remarks made by her mother. After all, The O 'Connor had been there before and hadn't ever hurt anyone. And Lore, the Fairy Leader, had said the big man was nice. That he was safe. Though Gryphon didn't see her, Lily just kept waving and vowed to pick some flowers for him on some other night. He didn't look like someone who would ever

  hurt her. And if Lore said the gryphon was okay, then he was okay.

  ***

  "You know I wouldn't completely ignore a summons from the Sorceress." But the thought had occurred to him. Gryphon shook his long hair back over his shoulder as he spoke.

  "I know, Gryph." Gwyneth O'Connor sighed. "But you're late, and there's a dangerous situation evolving. She'll be terribly angry with you."

  "So...she'll be miffed. She'll get over it. It's my job to be here. I'm here."

  From the backseat of the large luxury car, Gryphon O'Connor watched the guilt-ridden glances exchanged between his two parents. Thirty-three years before, James and Gwyneth O'Connor had meddled with powers that should have been left alone. Gryph's condition, as he referred to his shape shifting ability, was the result of that meddling.

  "Don't worry about me. I'll be all right. Shayla will give me the information. I'll handle the problem and be back before you know it." Gryph quickly changed the subject to spare his parents' feelings. "The flight from the English countryside was long. I'd have gone the entire distance, but there was no sense taking the risk of being seen during the daylight hours. And besides, I wanted to see my two favorite people before meeting with Shayla tonight. How have things been these past weeks?"

  "Well enough, Son," James said over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the winding and narrow Irish road. "Your mother and I have had a wonderful time in France. There are many of our kind still practicing there, you know."

  Gryph smiled patiently at the two people he loved more than anything in the world. He stretched his six-foot-four inch frame as far as the backseat area would allow and listened to his parents' latest travel exploits. The flight from England to Ireland had been more tiring than he wanted his parents to know. He had to practice great care when he traveled, avoiding overly populated areas and the eyes of those who constantly looked toward the heavens. As a result, covering distances sometimes took longer than expected and could be strenuous.

  He'd had to avoid several British army helicopters on routine maneuvers the night before, and keeping his distance had added miles to his trip. The human world wasn't ready for him and his highly unusual alter ego. He knew his presence, should it ever be detected, wouldn't be explainable or tolerated.

  He listened to his parents converse. That they loved him had never been questioned. It was the extent of that love which had brought him to his current, painful circumstance. Blaming them was unthinkable. They had no knowledge of the responsibilities the Sorceress heaped upon him. He rarely shared the nature of his dealings with anyone and went out of his way to keep Gwyneth and James O'Connor from knowing. He let them think he simply helped out when called upon. They needn't know any more. It would crush them to learn Shayla Gallagher had him doing every dirty little deed she didn't feel like handling. He tried hard while in his parents' presence not to make much of the Sorceress' assignments or his part in enforcing rules within the Order. For their part, he felt sure they tried to pretend he wasn't such an outcast. It was a game they all played. He pretended not to be hurt by what others in the Order said. His parents pretended the situation wasn't all that serious. That their son was just like any other Druid. For them, Gryph's latest residence, a dilapidated English abbey, was just a retreat their son had chosen as a resting place. For Gryphon, it was one of the only places left where he didn't feel like such an outcast. Like someone who was so different. There, he had been left alone to read and decipher ancient tomes in an effort to learn more about his own history. No one had asked many questions of him. There were outsiders who lived nearby, but they rarely ventured into that part of the forest.

  "Son, are you listening?" James looked through the rearview mirror at Gryph, repeating himself to be heard.

  "Sorry, Father. I was woolgathering. A bad habit of mine, I'm afraid." Gryph smiled at his father.

  "I was asking if you thought the full moon tonight might make whatever Shayla has in mind more conspicuous." James spoke, enunciating each word to make sure Gryph was paying attention.

  "I doubt it. Shayla hasn't practiced in anonymity all these years without learning how to be crafty," Gryph responded as he watched the passing scenery. He tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice and hoped he succeeded.

  "But we'll be meeting with her at the ancient stone circle on the hill." Gwyneth turned in the front seat to see Gryph better. "Anyone will be able to see what we're doing under the light of the full moon."

  "I promise you, Mother, Shayla knows what she's doing."

  The old crone always has, he thought to himself.

  ***

  Gryph stood in pretended reverent silence as Shayla

  Gallagher, Sorceress of the Ancients, spoke the words which preceded the meeting. His parents wore the long white robes of their Druid ancestors while he was dressed in a similar robe of brown. Shayla lifted a crystal to the night sky with one hand and threw herbs into a small fire at her feet with the other. The evening breeze lifted the older woman's long, silver hair from her shoulders. While still beautiful, she looked every bit the wizened, prophetic conjuror she wanted others to revere. But Gryph was past the point of respecting her.

  Her wiles had worked on him as a boy, and the small tasks she'd given him seemed important yet simple. The tasks and their importance had grown, however. And he wasn't a boy to be tricked any longer. He knew the older woman for what

  she was, a user.

  Gryph pulled his hood up as his long dark hair began to drift about his own shoulders. In customary fashion, he had braided long strands of it next to his face. Celtic symbols were painted on his forehead and cheekbones in a shade of garish, blue woad as ceremony demanded. They matched the Celtic knots which had been tattooed at childhood on his biceps and inner thighs, marks of his position as a warrior.

  Finally, Shayla turned to Gryph with a smile on her face. He walked forward, and more for the benefit of his parents, kissed her outstretched hands. She gave him a disparaging look, and he knew she wasn't fooled.

  "Gryphon, I was told you received my message two days ago. I trust you have a plausible excuse for your delay?"

  "There's no excuse except I simply couldn't get here any f
aster." He just wanted her to get on with it.

  "I couldn't have made myself more clear. Circumstances here are very serious," she replied with condemnation.

  "Sorry, Shayla. I wasn't able to file a flight plan with the local authorities. I got here as soon as I safely could."

  "That had better not be sarcasm, young man. I don't tolerate it well," she warned.

  Gwyneth placed a hand on Gryph's arm. "Please, Gryphon, don't make her angrier. This isn't the time."

  Gryph heaved a sigh, glanced at his father's reproachful countenance and decided his exhibition of disrespect could wait until another time. A time when he and Shayla were alone, and he didn't have to guard his words for his parents' sake. "Just tell me what you want me to do, Sorceress."

  She raised her eyebrows imperiously and shot Gryphon a look that would have sent less bold men into hiding. For now, their personal battle could wait. She took a deep breath to quell her anger, then proceeded.

  "Several weeks ago, friends from the North sent word that an ancient burial mound had been desecrated."

  "You want me to find out who did it?" Gryph asked.

  "We know who it was. What we didn't know, until quite recently, is what was taken." She walked toward the largest of the stones in the circle. "Along with ancient jewelry and weapons, three stones were taken. While it was criminal enough that the personal items were stolen, the stones are the most serious of the missing objects."

  Gryph's eyes narrowed. "Why? What's their meaning?"

  "The stones are old. They are so ancient, at one time these stones were referred to as having Ogham markings. They date to the time before the Romans came. They were buried with the remains of an ancient Celtic family who were sworn to protect them at all costs. Their power is unspeakable. Should they fall into the wrong hands and their original use be discovered, horrors will walk the Earth." She paced back and forth in front of the fire. "Unless we undo what's been done, the entire Order is in danger."

  Gryph felt his skin grow cold. For the first time in his life, he saw Shayla show signs of fear. He'd never seen her in a state of agitation. She never paced, never clutched at the crystal she used to call forth her spirit guides, and he'd never ever heard her voice shake as it was now. This wasn't the normal assignment. Now he had second thoughts about delaying his response to the Sorceress' summons. Behind him, he heard his parents' gasps.

 

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