by John Purcell
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When I got back up to the overpass, the gryphon was awake but still lying on its side. I wondered if its exoskeleton did more than provide power to its wings.
When it saw me approaching, it panicked, jerking its head away and flailing its legs. Its wings could do nothing more than twitch.
I retrieved the pouch of salt from my backpack and poured some crystals into my cupped hand. Speaking softly, I offered some to the gryphon, lifting my hand to its beak. It strained its neck, trying to move its head further away, but its black tongue was dangling out and I rubbed some salt on the tip of it. Startled, it snapped its tongue back into its mouth. A moment later, though, it poked it out again, cautiously. I gave it a few more crystals. Its tongue went in and came back out again, quickly this time. The fear seemed to be draining from its eyes. I gave it some more.
As dusk fell, I divided my time between dispensing salt and splicing wires back together. I could see now that the muscles beneath the exoskeleton had withered away. They were no longer capable of supporting the gryphon’s weight or even flapping its wings. This must have had something to do with the gryphon’s breathing, as well, which was still fast and shallow.
It didn’t take long to repair the exoskeleton. Queen Scarlett had color-coded the wires for my convenience. When I joined the last two together, sparks flew. I had to move quickly to get out of the gryphon’s way as it leapt to its feet and flexed its wings.
First, I’d given it salt, and now I’d restored its health. This seemed to be enough to make us friends. As I untied the reins, it lowered itself to the ground, offering me a ride. An empty scabbard dangled from the saddle. Slipping my ax into it, I leapt onto the gryphon’s back and gave a whistle. We galloped down the onramp and lifted off into the sky.
Flying was an extraordinary sensation, but there was no time to enjoy it. Bim had taught me to whistle a few commands, but he couldn’t tell me how to actually fly the gryphon.
Turning was simple: all I had to do was tug the reins right or left. Surprisingly, pulling back on the reins didn’t seem to do anything at all.
I tried to come up with other commands. The cowboys in Shane controlled their horses with their heels. When I dug mine into the gryphon’s side, it went into a climb. Looking for a way to come out of it, I pulled back on the reins again. The gryphon leveled off. When I gave it two quick kicks, it went into a dive. I pulled back on the reins and it leveled off again.
Now in control, I headed for the Baltimore skyline. To the east, a rust-colored moon, two days past full, was rising over the ocean.
The Bank of America building glowed red against the night sky. Queen Scarlett had lit its peak with floodlights. The gryphon soared straight for it, expecting to land, and I had to tug hard and jab with my heels to change course. We veered down toward the street and leveled off about three stories up, circling the building.
King Wen’s guess proved right. A huge cable ran north, up St. Paul Street, in the direction of the closest Dome. I let out a whistle and the gryphon came in for a landing.
Hopping to the ground, I pulled my ax from the scabbard. There was no way to be sure Bim and Dogan were inside yet, but they’d had enough time and I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Queen Scarlett had ordered me to surrender by nightfall.
I severed the cable with a single chop, sending a geyser of sparks into the air. The shock passed through me in an instant, up my arms and down my legs and into the ground beneath my feet. Feeling no worse for it, I pulled my ax free, hopped back on the gryphon, and took to the sky.
The Bank of America building was completely dark now. If Queen Scarlett had backup generators, they weren’t producing electricity yet.
It was important to get inside quickly, during the initial confusion. We circled around and approached the building from the east. This time, I let the gryphon do as it pleased. It swooped toward the peak out of habit, preparing to land.
The peak of the Bank of America building didn’t quite come to a point. The flat surface on top wasn’t very big, but it was large enough for a gryphon’s nest. They must have built it themselves, because it consisted of garbage. They had scavenged countless bits of paper, cardboard, plastic, rubber, fabric, wiring, insulation, fencing, and even a few mattresses, and woven it into a nesting place. Not surprisingly, it stunk to high heaven. As the gryphon hovered and eased itself down, I turned off my sense of smell.
The other gryphon eyed me warily as we landed, growing nervous when I leapt into the nest. I took a moment to give it a taste of salt and left the pouch for them to share.
One area, in the center of the nest, was free of debris. It housed a bulkhead that offered the only route down. The bulkhead doors were covered in spikes, presumably to keep the gryphons from sitting on them. I pulled them open and started down the stairs, carrying my ax.
I was confident that Queen Scarlett’s living quarters would occupy the highest floor, and that her private laboratories would be found on the floors immediately below. I was also confident she hadn’t taken Luma down to the dungeons. A special captive called for a special prison cell. I expected to find both of them close by.
As soon as I closed the bulkhead doors behind me, the world burst into rainbow colors. The peak, I discovered, was purely ornamental, a hollow shell. All it contained was a staircase fixed to the inside wall. Looking over the railing, I could see all the way to the bottom. Judging by the colors—shades of violet, indigo and blue—no soldiers were waiting to ambush me in the dark.
I wasn’t expecting any. Queen Scarlett would attack me herself, with her soldiers standing by, in case things went badly. And she wouldn’t face me in an even fight. She would try to gain the upper hand before the fight began.
The door at the bottom of the stairs was closed. Opening it a crack, I peered out into an empty hallway. I opened it a little more and looked past the hinges. No one was hiding behind it. I stepped out cautiously.
I knew Queen Scarlett wouldn’t lay a trap for me in her living quarters, or choose to keep Luma there, but I had to confirm that her quarters were indeed on the top floor. There was a door directly opposite the elevator. I opened it and slipped through, closing it behind me.
Despite the risk, I retrieved Luma’s flashlight from my backpack and switched it on. My rainbow world evaporated
I found myself in Queen Scarlett’s bedroom. It was absurdly huge, almost as large as the gymnasium at school. The walls were decorated with hanging tapestries and the floor was thickly carpeted. In the center of the room, surrounded by drapes, stood a circular bed, 14 feet in diameter. It reminded me of Trip Savage’s desk.
Opposite the bed, a section of wall had been left undecorated. This housed a bank of television screens, 15 rows of 15. Set into the wall above them was another screen, larger than all the others combined. I could picture Queen Scarlett stretched out on her ridiculous bed, remote in hand, keeping watch over her realm.
When I took a step forward, I felt something underfoot and picked it up. It was a teddy bear, quite heavy for its size, with a peculiar face. Aside from the fuzzy ears, it wasn’t meant to be a bear’s face at all. Instead of a snout, it had a human nose and mouth. The eyes were human, too, and surprisingly realistic. The lips had been sewn shut with a needle and thread.
Other teddy bears were scattered about on the floor. I took another look at Queen Scarlett’s bed. There were dozens of pillows piled against the headboard, and more teddy bears lined up on top. I switched off the flashlight for a moment. Their bodies glowed green, giving off heat. Their faces were warmer still, yellow with patches of orange.
The teddy bear I was holding was dead, as were the others on the floor. The teddy bears on the bed were alive.
I switched the flashlight back on and walked over to the bed, training the beam o
n the row of teddy bears. They winced, swinging their eyeballs to the side, incapable of any other movement. I turned the beam away and set the flashlight down on the bed. Their eyes swung back to me.
I stepped over to the headboard and picked one up. Its eyes widened in terror and it tried to scream. With its lips stitched together, it could only produce a whimper. I scanned the row of teddy bears. All their mouths had been sewn shut.
There was nothing I could do to help them. I set down the teddy bear where I’d found it and switched off the flashlight, slipping it into my pocket.
