Gryphon's Quest

by Candace Sams

  "Gryphon O'Connor"

  "Heather, move back" Gryph said as he pushed her behind him.

  "It's too late to protect her, or yourself. I've seen enough," Shayla said, walking out of the woods with Gryph's parents.

  "Please, Shayla, it's my fault, not theirs. I was the one who told her. You can't punish them for something I did," Gwyneth pleaded, her eyes filled with tears.

  "Mother! What have you done? And why are you here?" Gryph looked from his parents to where Shayla stood.

  "Son...your mother...she broke the law. But I won't let anyone harm her," James firmly declared as he pulled his wife to him and held her close. "She only did what she thought was best for you."

  Shayla stepped forward, her long silver hair billowing out behind her. As Heather watched, she felt every cell in her body freeze in fear.

  Gryphon turned to face Heather. "What is it that you know?" he asked, and could hear the trepidation in his own voice.

  Heather automatically backed away from him when she saw the look of intense fear and anger mixed on his face.

  "Everything" Shayla proclaimed. "She knows everything about the Order, about your pact to do my bidding and about your changing into the creature who protects. Your mother told her everything. And you know what the penalty must be for both your mother and the girl," Shayla proclaimed. "I will spare Gryphon only because Gwyneth admits blame."

  Gryph could see pain and stoic determination were etched into the lines of the Sorceress' face. He looked away from Shayla and into Heather's eyes. Finally, his gaze fell upon his mother. He shook his head in disbelief. "You told Heather. She knows about..."

  "Everything!" Shayla repeated harshly.

  Gryphon faced Heather again. "Was it worth knowing, woman? Was it worth the life which will be taken from you and my mother? You once wanted to know who I was. Now see for yourself, Heather. Before you suffer judgment, see what killed Niall and made love to you." He backed away, anger mixing with his pain. He knelt.

  The rippling effect began, and the clothing on his body ripped away. The shape which emerged was much larger and more intimidating up close. Gryphon rose up and roared. He waited for Heather to scream or faint with revulsion when she learned what she'd had sex with. But she stood silently and looked at him. Her lovely face mirrored something he would never have imagined. There was a kind of wonder and curiosity in her eyes. She slowly walked forward.

  James shouted, "STAY BACK, GIRL! Since he was a very small child, no one has ever touched Gryph in his beast form!"

  Gryph roared out a warning for her to stay away. He wasn't sure he could control his lumbering actions enough to keep from inadvertently harming her. She was doomed, anyway, but Gryphon wasn't going to be the instrument of her death. He couldn't hurt her. Heather tentatively put out her hand, and came closer still. Gryph began to think she had finally lost her sanity having been exposed to more than any outsider was meant to see. She was close enough to touch him, and he couldn't back away any more. His wingspan didn't allow him to venture under trees whose branches were too close to the ground. He trembled as her hand touched his feathered neck and slowly stroked down his chest.

  "Amazing! You're magnificent. You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen, Gryph. You can understand me, can't you? Oh, don't tremble. I could never hurt you or be afraid of you. After all the times you could have done something to me, I'm certain you wouldn't hurt me now." She crooned as if she were speaking to a frightened stray animal. Her hands continued to move over his shoulders and up to the base of his mighty wings. She felt him quivering.

  Gryph's parents and Shayla stood by, dumbstruck. Mighty warriors had backed away in fear and awe when he'd been sent to right a wrong or settle a dispute which threatened the Order. Now, the massive gryphon stood quietly at the light touch of a willowy girl. Tears formed in his midnight-black eyes because she wasn't afraid or repelled by him. To the others, it appeared she had more courage than sense. The fact was, Heather simply couldn't fear him because she loved him and trusted him too much.

  When the rippling began again, Heather backed away only because she sensed Gryph needed the space to change back into human form. When the change was over, he looked up at her from his kneeling position, and there were tears of total adoration on his face.

  "You don't care what I am. Do you?" he choked out the words as his heart began to grow, second by second. That shattering reality broke the wall of stone around his soul, and hope began to take its place.

  "No," she simply said and shrugged, "I don't."

  Gryphon stood and pulled her to him so fast that there was scarcely time for her to take another breath.

  James wiped tears of astonishment and sadness from his face and held his sobbing wife. "That my son has found someone who unconditionally loves him, is our dream. But the woman who has done so will soon be destroyed."

  Gryphon held Heather very close and buried his face in her chest. It seemed like a long time before he finally spoke. "I won't let you hurt Heather or Mother, Shayla. I'll fight you if I have to, but that's the way of it. I love them both and can't let you pass judgment."

  Heather gazed up at him. She knew every ounce of love was reflected in her face. Since she was no longer hiding anything, it would be obvious for all to see. But she didn't care.

  "Don't be a fool. You can't stand against me and the forces of the Order. If you insist on fighting the law, Gryphon, the end result will be death for you and anyone who stands with you," Shayla sadly warned.

  "I stand with him," James proudly declared. "My son has always done his duty to the Order, Shayla. He's never refused anything asked of him. Your part of the pact was to let him lead some kind of normal life. What life has he had that could be defined as normal?"

  "Yes, what has he had except his duty to you?" Gwyneth asked.

  "He's had the best life he could live after you meddled into things best left alone. He was born into the Order, and there he must remain or die. The choice is his."

  "No. It isn't just his choice," Heather said, looking up at Gryphon and shaking her head. "I can't let anything happen to you or your parents because of me." She pushed away from the proud warrior holding her and walked to where Shayla stood. "If I leave right now and promise not to see Gryph or his parents ever again, will you leave them alone? Can't you make an exception just this one time?"

  Shayla stared at her. "Since you'll suffer a lifetime away from the man you love, that will be punishment enough. I'll let you and the others live if you go right now, and if none of the Order finds out that I've violated the very laws I'm sworn to uphold. But I do this out of love and respect for Gryphon and because of all he's accomplished for our safety."

  "Have I nothing to say in this matter," Gryph asked Shayla angrily. His fists were clenched at his sides. "I won't let Heather go. She's claimed me as I claim her. My parents have no say in what I do. Punish me if you will, but I'll never give Heather up or let you hurt anyone else I love."

  "You've had your say, warrior. So be it." Shayla slowly and wearily raised her hands, and the wind began to blow.

  "No, Shayla, NO!" Heather ran to Gryph and threw her arms about him. He held her protectively against his massive body. "Gryph, I can't let this happen. It isn't fair, I know, but I can't let Shayla do this." Heather yelled above the sound of the rising wind and backed away from him. "Have a good life, my love. Please, try to find some way to be happy." With that, she turned away and ran from them all.

  Gryph moved to pursue her, but Shay la's power held him fast.

  "Stop, Gryphon!" Shayla stepped in front of him. "The girl has done what was best for all concerned. For an outsider, she has acted quite admirably. If you contact her again, I'll have no choice but to send others after her who will see to her demise. You'll never know what happened to her. This way, she survives, and so do you and your parents. I will forgive the transgressions I've witnessed and your standing against me only this onetime. And only so long as I never see or hear abo
ut that outsider again. Pray to the Goddess that she never speaks of what she knows to anyone who'll believe her or, that too, will cause her death." As soon as Shayla finished speaking the wind died down, and everything in the woods went back to normal.

  Gryph gazed in the direction Heather had fled. He was vaguely aware of his father placing a cloak over his shoulders, and that James, Shayla, and Gwyneth moved away. Presumably they were giving him some time and distance to help recover from his loss. On the ground where Heather had stood, a blue silk scarf lay. It had fallen from around her neck when she ran. Gryphon knelt, saw the remains of his shirt, and found the last rune stone lying next to the scarf. He picked them both up and thought of her last words: Have a good life. Try to find a way to be happy.

  "I'll do neither," he whispered, with only the night and the trees to hear.

  THIRTEEN

  Heather pushed open the door to her apartment and dropped the books she was carrying on the floor. The rain and cold outside did nothing to improve her foul mood. It was impossible to forget all that had happened. For months, every time she walked to her car after work she deliberately dawdled. There was always the hope that Gryph would be there to stop her. At night, she sometimes cried herself to sleep wondering if he was well. Though ten hour workdays and long weekends deciphering Celtic writing kept her mind busy enough, the nights were always the worst. That was when the memories intruded. Her work with the Celtic artifacts brought her the only joy in her life. It brought her closer to Gryph.

  Not bothering to turn on the lights, she shook the rainwater from her coat and hung it behind the door. Half an hour later she emerged from a hot shower, wrapped in a warm robe. She walked into the small living room, lit a pink candle then brewed some herbal tea. On the coffee table lay the small leather crane bag Gryph had given her on that last night. She knelt beside the table, spread out a green, velvet cloth and carefully opened the bag as she had so many times. She lovingly placed each of Gryphon's gifts on the green cloth. There was a sprig of dried mistletoe. The most sacred of all herbs to the Druids, she knew Gryph had included it because that particular plant represented healing and overcoming difficulties. Its berries had sometimes been used in love charms. Next to this, she placed a sprig of rosemary for remembrance, a small moonstone for wishing, a citrine crystal to eliminate fear, and a perfect quartz wand for communication over distances and for balance. Then, she lovingly held the pink rose-quartz heart. A symbol of love, devotion and happiness. Last, there was a small, flat pebble with the rune symbol of an upright arrow carved into its surface. This was the rune of a warrior. For Heather, it represented Gryphon. His courage, dedication and endurance. In ancient times, Celtic warriors had painted this symbol on their shields and breastplates before going into battle. She'd seen many like it in her studies, but it had become dramatically important to her now. She placed it next to the rose quartz.

  She closed her eyes and sent out a whispered prayer. "Please let him be safe. Let him be happy." The flame of the pink candle gently flickered. The little candle was her only addition to the small collection of objects. It was symbolic of love and togetherness. A representation of a hurried and dangerous relationship which had ended too soon. A relationship which had grown and intensified into something rare. In her mind, she could almost see him staring up at the moon, thinking of her. Someday, maybe the memories wouldn't hurt so much. But her world was severely deficient of legends. Heroes who did the right thing because that was all that could be done. She doubted her mind would ever be free of him, or that the pain would ever go away. Everything she touched reminded her of him. She could almost feel his gentle touch, the way he'd held her when they made love. No man had ever been so caring and demanding all at once. He'd made her want to give him her very soul. Sometimes as she slept, it was as if he was there again, moving within her, touching, caressing until she cried out for more. Then, she'd dream he was in full battle gear, charging a hill to rescue his woman from some evil force threatening to separate them forever. He'd free her from her captors and take her away to some primeval forest. There they would lay in the cool darkness and pleasure each other for hours. But the dream would finally end. Heather would awaken feeling as though she'd been cheated of something very precious. And her body would ache for his touch. In the short time they'd had, something very precious had happened. Two people didn't have that kind of connection unless some larger power had meant for it to be. But, like the Celtic gods of legend, those same powers turned cruel and laughed at their pain. There were impossible barriers placed in their paths.

  That was her real excuse for working so hard. Sometimes the frustration she felt was too intense. There was no physical way to assuage it. Heather had tried everything. Work was all that was left. That was her one solace. She could be near things from his part of the world. And she was exceedingly careful that no one could ever trace any of the artifacts back to him or the Order. Heather even altered some of the paperwork before giving it to the police. Her greatest fear was that his world would be discovered. There wasn't enough tolerance in hers to accommodate such a place.

  She slowly opened her eyes and listened to the thunder rumbling overhead. As soon as she was finished with the current collection of artifacts, she had decided to turn in her resignation and move on. Maybe to California or someplace bright and hot. A place where there could be a new life. Nothing about New York appealed to her anymore. Everything of real importance was gone. She blew out the candle and stood up. Flashes of lightning lit the darkened room.

  Something instinctively warned her she wasn't alone. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and her mouth went dry. Heather carefully turned to face the door. A slender female figure stood there, watching her. The woman was robed in white.

  "You studied Druid traditions well, though you've forgotten to acknowledge the elemental spirits and close the ceremony properly. You should be more careful about that. Goddess knows what you'll invite into this room." She waved a hand, and the candle flickered back to life.

  "Shayla" Heather gasped. Her heart pounded out a heavy rhythm, and a horrible dread filled her. "Gryphon. Is he all right?"

  "Why are you so concerned?"

  "Just tell me," she demanded.

  "When I left him, he was in tolerable condition. Though I believe he misses you as much as you seem to miss him."

  Heather stared at the older woman, trying to gauge whether there was a hint of a lie or subterfuge in her words. Every instinct she had told her Gryphon needed her as much as she needed him.

  "If you're not here to tell me something's wrong, why have you broken into my apartment?"

  "I might have approached you somewhere else, but you're always at work or here. So, I decided to speak with you where we can be alone." She paused and walked toward Heather. "And, like all outsiders, you haven't been paying much attention to your surroundings, or you'd have noticed you've been followed."

  Heather swallowed hard. "Why? By whom?"

  "Some of my people have been keeping an eye on you. I told you what would happen if you ever went to anyone about us."

  "I haven't... "

  Shayla held up a hand to silence her. "I know. You'd already be dead if you had."

  "Then why are you here?"

  "Sit down. I have a proposition to put to you."

  Heather sat on the sofa while Shayla regally positioned herself in the opposite chair. The older woman untied a white bag from around her waist and carefully placed the contents on the table next to Heather's stones and herbs.

  Heather groaned and shook her head when she saw what lay there. "Why did you bring those damned things back here? Gryph almost died getting them to you."

  Shayla carefully arranged the rune stones of the Tuatha De Danann so the symbols faced Heather. "I take it you have a passing familiarity with these?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  "Yeah. I know 'em," Heather snapped back and moved farther away from the stones.

  "I intend to put them wh
ere no one can ever find them again," Shayla informed her.

  "They're not staying in my apartment. And I've got a real good suggestion for just where you can put them," Heather sniped.

  "You're rude, girl."

  "Well, you've broken into my apartment, which is something

  I really hate about you people, and you've brought those...those pieces of crap back into my life." She nodded toward the stones. "I never wanted to see those damned things again. Why don't you throw them into the deepest part of the ocean before someone else gets killed?"

  "I intend to use them one more time. At least, I intend to watch them being used."

  Heather stared at Shayla for a long moment. "Are you out of your friggin' mind?"

  "I'm going to excuse your rudeness once more. But only once."

  Heather got up, marched to the door and opened it. "Get out. And take those God-awful things with you."

  "Sit-down before I lose my patience, and you lose the one chance you have of being with Gryphon." Shayla quickly stood up.

  Heather jumped as the woman raised one hand and the door slammed shut behind her. "You can't be serious," she choked out the words as she walked back toward the Sorceress.

  "Think girl. The Order isn't ready to accept outsiders, though we'll someday have to. For now, using these stones may be the only way that an outsider can safely enter our world. To convince those of my kind that some of your kind can be trusted."

  "What do you mean?" Heather shook her head in confusion.

  "It's a simple matter of a closed society with limited genetic resources. Once there were hundreds of thousands of us. That's no longer the case. Over the centuries, our numbers have decreased as the land needed to sustain us diminished. We currently have physicians all over Europe who've secretly reported back to us on their findings. No one knows these men and women are part of the Order, and we've taken great pains to keep it that way. But their research undeniably concludes that our numbers are too few to sustain a healthy gene pool. Unless, of course, we start taking in new blood from time to time." Shayla looked pointedly at her.