The Shadow's Heir (The Risen Sun)

by K J Taylor

  He grinned at her. “There. I told you I’d get better. Now, I think it’s time for an outing.”

  Laela did her best to look calm. “Are yeh sure yer ready t’go anywhere?”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving her into silence. “Now, let’s go. Skandar will want to see me.”

  Ignoring the protests of the healers, he limped out of the room. Laela followed.

  “Keep close to me,” he said. “I might need you to support me again.”

  “I will.”

  It was a slow journey up to the King’s chamber, but Laela kept pace with him as patiently as she could.

  “Sire—Arenadd, I mean—can I ask yeh somethin’?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Do yeh know who did it?” she said. “Who attacked yeh—did that to yeh?”

  Arenadd winced as he took another step. “No. And he won’t be easily caught. He planned it very well.”

  “We’ve gotta catch him, though,” Laela said in angry tones. “What he did to yeh was unspeakable. If I could find him, I’d have him hung an’ quartered.”

  “Would you now.”

  “Yeah, I would. Did yeh see him, though? Do yeh know what he looked like?”

  “He was working with someone at the tavern,” said Arenadd. “I know that much. I only had one drink while I was there. One. And trust me, it takes a lot more than one drink to do that to me. It must have been drugged. By the time the bastard caught up with me, I could barely see straight. I only saw him very faintly.”

  Laela shivered. “What’d he look like?”

  “Scarred,” said Arenadd. “Horribly scarred, on the face. I heard him say something—he said the name Gryphus.”

  “An’ later he shoved a bit of cloth with a sunwheel on it in yer mouth,” said Laela. “I pulled it out.”

  Arenadd paused. “I see. So I wasn’t imagining it. Well, a sun worshipper could easily have done something like that. There’s not one single man or woman among them who doesn’t hate me. But how he managed to hide in my city . . . that’s another question.”

  “He’d be easy t’find, though, wouldn’t he?” said Laela.

  “Not necessarily. He’ll have left Malvern by now, for certain. I already sent guards to the Blue Moon to ask some very blunt questions, but it seems the woman who gave me the drug has suddenly disappeared, and the owner hasn’t the slightest clue where she went or whether she had anything to do with what happened. So unless we find some other clue, it looks like our would-be assassin has escaped.”

  “We’ll find him one day,” said Laela.

  “I hope so.” Arenadd’s mouth tightened. “I have a few things I’d like to share with him. Most of them are sharp. But not too sharp.”

  When they got to Arenadd’s chamber, he paused only very briefly to change into a fresh robe and boots, and then led the way out through the curtain that Skandar had appeared through on that first night.

  Laela followed, intrigued.

  On the other side of the curtain was a griffin’s nest. She had seen a few by now, but this was something else.

  It was full of straw, of course, and there were stray feathers scattered about the place. But there were heaps of gold coins and gemstones heaped in the corners, and sumptuous tapestries and banners hung from the walls. It was ten times more luxurious than the King’s bedchamber—in fact, it was the most overdecorated room Laela had seen in the entire Eyrie.

  She waded over to the water trough and nudged it with her foot. “Is this thing made out of gold?”

  “Gold-plated wood,” Arenadd said absently. “He demands the best, Skandar does. And I make sure that he gets it.”

  “I noticed,” said Laela. “Good gods, all this for a—”

  “Skandar isn’t just an animal,” Arenadd said sharply. “Never let me hear you say that again, Laela. No, he’s not human, and he’s not the brightest star in the sky, but he’s as much of a person as I am. I owe him a lot, and so does this city. A little luxury isn’t much to ask in return.”

  Laela drew back. “I’m sorry, I was just surprised.”

  “I suppose you’ve got every right to be,” he admitted. “Now then, let’s see where the old rogue’s got to.”

  He limped away through the opening in the opposite wall and out onto the balcony. There, he tucked his walking stick under his arm, cupped his hands around his mouth, and let out an unearthly shriek.

  Laela cringed. It sounded like he was trying to mimic a griffin’s cry—in other words, it was a horrible noise that made her want to cover her ears. When he followed it up with another shriek, she did just that.

  Arenadd continued to send out his call for some time before he lowered his hands and took a few steps back. Laela, venturing closer, heard an answering shriek from somewhere outside.

  A moment later, Skandar arrived—landing on the balcony with a thump that shook the floor and nearly made Laela throw herself flat to save herself.

  The giant griffin folded his wings and rushed at Arenadd, so fast and violently that it looked as if he were attacking. But a moment later, Arenadd was scratching his partner under the beak and talking rapidly to him in griffish, while Skandar cooed and nudged at him, like a cat asking to be petted.

  Laela watched them with a bemused expression that vanished when Skandar suddenly looked up at her.

  The griffin’s eyes were silver and full of untamed ferocity.

  “Stay calm,” said Arenadd, as Skandar took a step toward her. “He just wants to look at you. Stand still and let him. He won’t hurt you unless he thinks you’re an enemy.”

  Laela stood as still as she could and kept her jaw clenched while the giant griffin sniffed her up and down. His breath was hot and smelt of old meat, mingled with the musty smell of his feathers. He shoved her carelessly while he sniffed, and she could feel the immense strength in his touch.

  Apparently satisfied, Skandar raised his head and looked down on her, inscrutable.

  “Touch him,” said Arenadd. “Be gentle.”

  Laela glanced at him and reached out very carefully. Skandar tensed but didn’t move, and she stroked his chest as lightly as she could. He didn’t react. Emboldened, she combed her fingers through his feathers, feeling their soft warmth.

  Good bloody gods, it’s like touching a giant chicken, she thought suddenly. If a chicken could rip yer head off, anyway.

  Skandar tapped her on the back of the neck with his beak. He did it lightly, but she felt a chill go down her spine, realising that if he wanted to, he could break her back as easily as if it were a twig.

  She took her hand away.

  Skandar’s head descended to her eye-level. His own eyes focused on her face, and he rasped at her.

  “What does that mean?” Laela asked, not without fear.

  “He said, ‘Skandar glad you save human,’” Arenadd supplied from somewhere behind the griffin’s bulk.

  “Tell him I said it was no trouble,” said Laela.

  Arenadd clicked and rasped a griffish phrase. Skandar kept his eyes on Laela and grated a reply.

  “He said, ‘You good friend to human. Give Skandar back human, so friend to Skandar, too.’”

  Laela smiled. “Thanks, Skandar.”

  “Krrree an oo,” said Skandar, and turned away abruptly.

  “He said, ‘Not eat this one,’” said Arenadd.

  Laela’s smile vanished. “Er—”

  “Don’t worry; he was just joking,” said Arenadd.

  He spoke to Skandar some more, and Laela watched as the two conversed briefly.

  “Settled, then,” Arenadd said afterward. “Are you ready to come with us?”

  “Where to?” said Laela.

  “Well, to the Hatchery, of course,” said Arenadd. “I thi
nk it’s high time you saw the inside.”

  “What? Oh.” Laela paused. “Why?”

  “You’ve done a great service to the Kingdom,” said Arenadd. “And you’ve done a great service to Skandar and me. This is the least we can do in return.”

  “What is?” said Laela. “Showin’ me the Hatchery?”

  “Showing you to the griffins,” said Arenadd. “I think they might just be interested in you, Laela.”

  • • •

  The Hatchery was even noisier and looked more dangerous than she remembered, and she probably would have refused to go in if Arenadd and Skandar hadn’t been with her. The King unceremoniously shoved the doors open and limped in, upsetting the few human beings present.

  “Sire!” one of them blurted, dropping her broom. “What . . . ?”

  “Don’t mind me,” said Arenadd. “I’m just visiting.”

  Skandar came in after him, and the effect on the griffins was astonishing. Before, they had been all over the place—flitting in and out of the rafters, squabbling with each other, eating, sleeping, or screeching at each other for no apparent reason. But when the great black-and-silver griffin appeared in their midst, they went silent almost instantly.

  They stopped what they were doing. Some lay flat to make themselves look smaller; others bowed their heads. Some actually fled, flying out of the openings in the roof or using the hatches at floor level.

  Skandar held his head high and looked majestically at his inferiors, like a King watching his subjects.

  Arenadd took Laela by the arm and muttered to his friend in griffish. Skandar rasped back. Then he turned his attention to the griffins. They raised their heads to listen as he said something to them. Whatever it was, it sounded vaguely like a command, and that idea was proven to be correct when they stood up and began to come forward.

  Arenadd pushed Laela toward them. “Stand in front of me,” he said. “Let them see you; you’re being presented to them. Skandar’s telling them about you. They’ll come forward to inspect you; keep still and let them. Don’t show fear. Don’t. They don’t have any respect for someone who shows them she’s afraid.”

  “Right,” Laela muttered back, and stumbled forward.

  The griffins were all staring at her. She felt dizzy. To be surrounded by so many of them . . . each one horribly strong and full of magic . . .

  She kept still and stood as tall as she could, raising her chin and trying her best to look fearless and dignified.

  Skandar stopped speaking, and a horrible silence fell while the griffins regarded her, their eyes full of cold curiosity.

  Finally, one broke away from the group and loped toward her. It was one of the smaller griffins, fortunately—its head was level with her face. Laela stood still, heart pounding, and the griffin circled her, sniffing at her clothes. It pushed at her a few times with its beak, and then peered at her face.

  After a few moments, it made a dismissive noise and walked away. Several other griffins left with it.

  After some hesitation, another one came to look at her, but it, too, left. So did the next.

  As if that was a signal, the group suddenly began to break apart and wander off. Laela watched them go, crestfallen. It wasn’t that she wanted to be a griffiner that badly, but it was such a clear and obvious sign of rejection and disinterest that it hurt her more deeply than she would have expected.

  Arenadd stepped forward. “Kree!” he shouted.

  Many of the griffins stopped to look back at him.

  Arenadd came to Laela’s side and spoke in loud and rapid griffish, emphasising whatever he was saying by thumping his stick on the floor.

  Some of the griffins hesitated a moment longer at this; some turned away and left regardless, but others stayed.

  Finally, one of them came closer. It was small—barely bigger than a large goat—but it had the same aura of danger that all griffins had. It came to sniff at Laela, and Arenadd quietly moved away while it did.

  Laela braced herself while the griffin examined her up and down and looked her in the face. Then, without warning, it reared up onto its hind legs and planted its front talons on her chest. Keeping still then was much harder, especially given that the thing’s weight nearly pushed her over, but she managed it somehow, and squeezed her eyes shut while it sniffed at her face. Gods, its breath was awful . . .

  The griffin moved away and dropped back onto its forelegs. When Laela opened her eyes again, she found it staring at her in a way that made her more than slightly nervous.

  “What do I do?” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

  “Just keep still,” said Arenadd. “Don’t panic, no matter what—”

  The griffin kept staring at her. It looked like it was going to pounce on her, like a cat with a mouse. And a heartbeat later, it did exactly that.

  Laela had never imagined that a creature so big could move so fast. One moment it was crouching back and staring at her, and the next it had sprung straight at her, wings open and talons spread. She yelled and backed away, but it came after her, screeching. It caught up with her without any effort at all, and hurled itself at her. Its talons caught in her clothes and pulled her toward it, and its beak opened wide, ready to strike . . .

  “Help me!” Laela yelled. “For gods’ sakes, do somethin’!”

  A moment later, she had fallen over, and the griffin was on her. It bit her, using its hooked beak to tear at her as if she were food. Its talons wrapped around her body, holding her tight. Any moment they would go through her clothes and sink into her flesh.

  She struggled wildly. “Get off! Get off me! Arenadd, get it off me!”

  But the griffin continued its attack, and neither Arenadd nor Skandar appeared to help her. It loosened its grip on her and reared up, its beak aimed at her face . . .

  Instinct pushed Laela into action. She freed her arm, and punched it square in the throat.

  The griffin backed off, hissing furiously. She managed to get up—before it attacked yet again. It knocked her over and bit and scratched at her until she managed to free herself, only for it to come at her again a moment later. She tried to take shelter behind Skandar, but he had moved to the other side of the room, and Arenadd was nowhere to be seen.

  She started to panic.

  The griffin attacked a fourth time, but it was at this point that she realised that, despite its greater strength and apparently murderous intent, it hadn’t seriously injured her at all. It was just toying with her, maybe to get as much fun out of her as it could before it killed her.

  She grabbed it by the beak and pushed hard, forcing it away from her. “Get off!” she yelled. “Get away, or I swear t’gods I’ll kill yeh!”

  The ridiculous threat had no effect whatsoever on the griffin, of course, which struggled to free itself and dug its talons into her even more painfully than before. Desperate now, she let go of it with one hand and jammed her thumb into its eye as hard as she could.

  The griffin screamed.

  The talons let go instantly, and it backed off, shaking its head violently and hissing. Laela got up and tried to run out of the Hatchery, but a knot of griffins were in the way, and when she turned back, she found the one she had hurt still there, its eye swelling and probably making it even more violent than before.

  But it didn’t attack. It sat back on its haunches and rubbed its head against its flank, and then settled down to groom its feathers as if nothing had happened.

  Laela checked herself for injuries, and was frankly astonished when she found nothing more than a few scratches and a shallow gash on the side of her neck. Her clothes were torn, but other than that, the griffin hadn’t done anything to her at all.

  She looked around for Arenadd, but couldn’t find him.

  “Arenadd? For gods’ sakes, where are yeh? What’
s goin’ on? Get me out of here! I ain’t jokin’!”

  There was no reply.

  The griffin finished its grooming and stood up. It came toward her, but slowly this time.

  Laela backed away. “Keep away, or I’ll get yer other eye next, yeh overgrown parrot.”

  It ignored her and came on until it was only a few paces away from her. Then it stopped, sat down on its haunches, and dipped its head toward the floor. It said something in griffish.

  Laela blinked. “What?”

  “She said, ‘You are a half-breed human, but you saved the King’s life,’” said Arenadd, from behind her.

  She turned sharply. “What?”

  The griffin spoke on.

  “‘You are clever, to have come this far and climbed so high from such beginnings,’” the King continued. “‘With help, you could go much further.’”

  The griffin came closer, but it looked placid now. It lifted its head toward her face and said something else.

  “‘I have tested your courage, and found you worthy,’” Arenadd translated. “‘I will go with you now and make you my human until one of us is dead.’”

  Laela blanched. “What?”

  The griffin nudged at her hand and made an odd cooing sound.

  “Touch her,” said Arenadd. “She’ll let you do it now.”

  “I ain’t touchin’ that thing!” Laela exclaimed. “The damn thing nearly killed me already; it’ll take my hand off!”

  Arenadd chuckled. “Laela, if she’d wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

  “Well, it attacked me, anyway,” said Laela. “I ain’t gonna pet it, that’s for damn sure.”

  “She was testing you,” said Arenadd. “To see if you were brave and strong enough to fight her off.”

  Laela eyed the griffin. Its own eyes were a brilliant green and contrasted with its tawny feathers. It didn’t look as if it were going to attack again. “That was a test?”

  “Nearly all griffins do that,” said Arenadd.

  Laela looked at him. Then she looked at Skandar. “Did he do that?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked at the griffin again. It still hadn’t moved. Very slowly and carefully, she reached toward it. The griffin made no move. Finally, Laela put her hand on its head and left it there. The griffin’s only response was to blink.