I want to see a gryphon.
I want to touch its wondrous mane.
I want to hear its terrible screech.
I want to meet it, to stand before it and look up into those amber eyes and say hello.
“Rowan!” Alianor shouts.
Rowan, do something.
That’s what she means.
Rowan, save us.
I must save them. I’m the royal monster hunter. They followed me into this. They are my people. I need to keep them safe.
How? I dropped my sword. I rushed out after Dain and left my dagger behind. What can I possibly—?
The needle.
Yes!
As I fumble to pull the needle from my pocket, something darts across the cavern floor. A brown blur leaps onto the gryphon’s injured leg. Jacko bites the beast right where I just sliced it.
The gryphon shrieks in agony.
Perfect! I just need to plunge the needle into the beast’s flank while it’s busy with Jacko. But the needle tip is caught in my pocket, and if I pull too fast, I’ll break it.
The beast’s head swings toward the jackalope. Its beak opens. I slam my foot into Jacko. I hate that so much, but it’s all I can do. Knock Jacko out of the way before that beak crushes him.
The jackalope goes flying…and the beak closes on my boot instead.
The gryphon’s head whips up, yanking me off my feet. I grab the only thing I can reach—the beast’s mane. I wrap my hands in it to give myself leverage as I wrench my leg. My foot doesn’t pop free from the gryphon’s beak, but I manage to keep my grip on its mane.
The beak tightens on my boot. Pain shoots up my calf. I grit my teeth, look over my shoulder and kick my free foot at the beast’s eye. It makes contact, and the gryphon’s head snaps back, its beak opening, my foot falling free. Then I’m hanging on its mane. An image of Jannah flashes. My aunt on the manticore. Riding the manticore. Driving her dagger into the back of its neck.
I heave myself up. The gryphon twists, and my leg doesn’t make it over the beast’s back. When I try again, the gryphon bucks, and that’s exactly what I need. I shoot onto it. Nearly shoot over it and tumble down the other side. But I keep my grip, and then I’m lying flat on the gryphon’s broad back, facedown, my fists wrapped in its mane.
Below, Alianor and Dain shout. The gryphon goes still. Its head turns from side to side as it looks for me. My hand slides into my pocket. I grip the beast’s back with my knees and keep hold of its mane with my other hand as I unhook the needle tip from the fabric it’s caught on.
As I pull the needle from my pocket, the gryphon bucks. By sheer luck, my hand clamps down on the needle instead of dropping it. The beast rears. I keep my grip on the needle and ease my hand up to the gryphon’s neck. It’s twisting now. It knows I’m on its back, and it’s trying to figure out what to do about that.
Its wings fly out. One knocks my foot up, and I slam face-first into the beast’s neck. I clutch its mane with my left hand, the needle in my right. Below, Dain and Alianor attack the gryphon. So does Jacko, his squeals ringing out. In the corner of my vision, I see Malric staggering toward us, one rear leg dragging.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I must do this. Stop waiting for the right moment. Stop waiting for the safe moment. Inject the sedative, and if the beast throws me clear and tramples me afterward, that is what happens. Every moment I hesitate is another moment for someone else to die.
I release the gryphon’s mane. I raise both hands, clutching the needle between them. I grip the beast with my knees, as tight as I can. Then I slam the needle into the gryphon’s neck. Slam it in. Hit the plunger. Watch the liquid rush in.
The beast rears. I drop the empty needle and grab its mane. I clutch it with both hands and bury my face in it.
The gryphon bucks and twists. I hold on for dear life as the beast thrashes. It stumbles. It trips over its own feet. I close my eyes and feel its heartbeat thudding beneath me. Feel its heartbeat slowing as the sedative slides through its veins.
I just need to hold on. The beast will crash to the cavern floor, and I can climb off safely.
It continues to stagger and lurch.
“Rowan!” Dain shouts.
I keep my eyes closed. I’m fine. Just fine.
“Rowan, jump—!”
The beast lunges. My eyes open. The cavern entrance sails toward me. I see the night sky over the gryphon’s head. Hear the crack of its mighty wings. And I realize what it’s done. Fled in the only way it knows. Flying out of the cavern. With me still on its back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
twist to throw myself off the gryphon, but the cavern doorway is already whipping past. We’re outside, soaring into the canyon. Then the beast sheers to one side. Its whole body tilts, and I grab its mane as tightly as I can. It veers again, and I realize it isn’t trying to get rid of me. It’s trying to stay aloft.
Any moment now, the sedative will do its work, and the gryphon will fall asleep and crash to the canyon floor.
I look around wildly, but there’s no way to escape. If I jump from this height, I’ll die.
If the beast falls asleep and crashes from this height, we’ll both die.
I need to make it fly lower.
No, wait. It’s about to fly out of the canyon. As soon as it clears the walls, I’ll let go and fall a safe distance. I’ll—
The gryphon swoops back into the canyon. Ahead, something white streaks across the sky. I’m trying to get a look at it when the gryphon lurches to one side, and I have to cling to keep from sliding off. Then it veers the other way, as if it’s trying to stay level. Another bone-jarring turn, and it heads straight for the wall. At the last second, it manages to swerve away, but one wing scrapes the rock, feathers flying.
The gryphon is going to crash. It will fall asleep and drop like a stone. And I’ll fall—
Do not freak out.
I need to make the beast fly lower before it falls. I don’t have any weapons, though. My dagger is back in the cave. My sword is gone. I dropped the needle when it was empty.
I kick and punch the gryphon, but it doesn’t even seem to feel me. It keeps careening toward the canyon walls. If it doesn’t fall asleep in flight, it’ll smash into the wall. Either way, we’ll both die.
I slam my fist against the spot where the needle went in, hoping it might be tender. I’m pulling back for another blow when that white rematerializes in the night sky. A streak of light, like a falling star. It’s coming straight for us. A pale blur…
The pegasus filly.
She’s flying right at the gryphon. It sees her and gives a garbled shriek, as if it can barely work up the energy for that. At the last second, the filly turns. The gryphon lurches after her. Its wings beat erratically as it begins losing the battle against sleep.
For a moment, the gryphon seems to forget about the pegasus filly altogether, and it hovers in place, wings flapping. I look down. It’s a long drop. A very long drop onto a rocky canyon floor. But this might be the only chance I get. I release my hold with one hand.
The filly reappears. She comes from behind, skimming right over us, close enough for me to see her underbelly. She passes in front of the gryphon and dives. The beast goes after her. I see the canyon floor below. The moment the gryphon slows, I’ll let go. I just need it to slow—
The gryphon drops. It loses consciousness and plummets toward the ground, and there’s nothing I can do but hold on with all my might and—
The beast skids along the canyon floor before collapsing in a heap…with me safely on top of it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
hen I tumble off the gryphon’s back, I stagger like I’m the one sedated. Every muscle in my body has been clenched so tight I can barely move. The jolt of the landing didn’t help. I’m struggling to stand upright when the pegasus filly prances over. She nudges my pockets and then looks at me reproachfully.
I laugh at her expression. “I agree. You deserve a bushelful of apples.”
<
br /> A squeak sounds to my left. Jacko tears along the canyon floor. He launches himself, and I reach to catch him…but he lands on the gryphon instead. He climbs up its back, perches on its head and lets out a long, shrill squeal.
“Is that your victory cry?” I say. “Yes, Jacko. You helped bring down the terrible beast.”
“But the main credit goes to the crazy princess who wanted a gryphon ride,” a voice calls.
I turn to see Alianor, scrabbling over rocks, panting with exertion. Dain follows, staying behind Malric, who drags his back leg.
“So you did it,” Alianor says.
“I think we all did it.”
“Mmm, pretty sure it was mostly you, princess.” Dain hefts my sword. “I brought this, though you won’t need it much longer. One final stroke, and you’ll earn another sword.”
I frown.
“Did you hit your head, princess?” He waves toward the gryphon. “You killed the gryphon. Your aunt’s ebony sword is yours. You just need to do the actual killing part.” He passes me my sword.
The entire time I was fighting the beast, I thought only of escaping. Never once did I consider fulfilling my quest. But now I have.
“Take the sword,” Alianor says.
“But this isn’t…It wasn’t supposed to…I didn’t mean to fight it.”
“Which is a good thing,” she says. “Because you’d never have defeated it with a sword. You defeated it with ingenuity and bravery.”
“Doesn’t matter what you intended,” Dain says. “You took down the gryphon. You’ll be the next royal monster hunter. All that remains is the final blow.”
I take the sword and turn to the gryphon, sound asleep on the canyon floor.
“I—I can’t,” I say.
“What?” Alianor says. “This monster killed your aunt. Lamed your brother. Almost slaughtered all of—”
Dain cuts her off with a raised hand. He steps toward me, lowering his voice. “It’s sound asleep. It won’t feel a thing. If you need to know where to strike…”
“I know where,” I say. “But the council was very clear. I must slay the gryphon. If I fail, I forfeit the kingdom.”
Dain’s brows knit. “You are slaying it.”
“So you say. So Alianor says. But if there’s any possible way for Heward to claim I wasn’t here when it died…”
Alianor nods. “Rowan’s right. Heward might be Clan Dacre, but his mother is Clan Bellamy. My father says he’s a cunning old fox. Even if Rowan had half the queen’s army as witnesses, he’d find a way to say she found it already dead. He needs to see it with his own eyes.”
Dain looks at the massive, sleeping beast. “How are we going to do that?”
Alianor smiles. “I have an idea.”
* * *
I spend the rest of the morning sitting with a sedated gryphon. It’s a very boring end to my grand adventure, but we can’t leave the beast here, and we can’t drag it back to the castle. So Malric, Jacko, the filly and I hang out with the unconscious monster. Well, actually, we hang out a hundred paces away, in case it wakes up. I jog over hourly to check its heart rate and breathing. The sedative does its job, and the beast stays asleep.
While I babysit a gryphon, Dain heads home to convince Wilmot to come with us to the castle. It turns out that’s done easily enough, given Wilmot’s condition. He’s forgotten any issues he had with the royal family, and within a few hours Dain returns with Wilmot, plus food, water and all the sedative Wilmot had in storage.
It takes longer for Alianor. She returns to tell her clan what we’ve done and offer her brother a deal. If Clan Bellamy helps us get the gryphon to the castle—and doesn’t claim any credit for bringing down the beast—then I won’t tell my mother what they did. This is Alianor’s idea. I hate the prospect of letting Lanslet get away with trying to murder me. Yet I was raised to be queen, and while I despise politics, I understand that sometimes we need to make deals we don’t like.
In the early evening, Alianor returns with her clan. Lanslet has accepted the bargain. We have our wagon to transport the gryphon, and we have Clan Bellamy to accompany us on the three-day ride.
* * *
I’m approaching the castle the same way I did when I brought my aunt’s body home. Riding up a dusty side road, my gaze fixed on the distant spires. I want to prod my horse and ride as fast as I can. Get to my brother. My mother. My family. My home.
Instead, I carry on at the speed of the wagon behind me—the one that carries Malric. Alianor sedated the warg so he didn’t insist on hobbling alongside us and making his leg worse. Wilmot is in the wagon with Malric, both of them tended by Alianor.
Jacko lies on my horse’s neck, straining to see over the mare’s head, his nose twitching.
“Almost home,” I whisper.
“Someone’s coming,” Dain says, bringing his horse up beside mine.
I see the cloud of dust first. One rider pulls ahead of two others. The horse is galloping, coming as fast as it can, and when I get a look at the gelding, I smile.
“Rhydd,” I say.
I hop off my borrowed mare, startling Jacko, who leaps onto my shoulder. I raise my hand to halt the wagon. Rhydd rides up and swings himself off the gelding. Wooden rods brace his leg, and he struggles to yank a crutch from his saddle. When Dain tries to help, he waves him away.
“Related to the princess, I see,” Dain murmurs.
Rhydd doesn’t seem to see him. Doesn’t even see me. His gaze is fixed on the filly prancing alongside the wagon, her wings fluttering.
“That’s…” Rhydd says.
“Sunniva,” I say. “Her name is Sunniva.”
“You—you tamed…”
“I need a royal mount, and you know I hate unicorns.”
He grins, hobbles over and throws his arms around my neck. I hug him tight. Then I back up and say, “There’s something else.”
I lead him to the second wagon, pulling up behind the first. The gryphon lies bound and sedated on it. Rhydd’s mouth drops open.
“I know,” I say. “I was supposed to be training to defeat a gryphon. But that seemed like so much work. I decided to skip a few steps.”
“You captured the gryphon?” He looks at the beast. Then he throws back his head and laughs. “Of course you did.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
fter a midday feast, Mom suggests I take a nap, and I cannot resist the allure of my soft bed. Then next thing I know, it’s morning, and I leap up in a panic, worrying about those I brought with me, every person and beast that is my responsibility as host.
Of course, Mom has taken care of everyone. I still spend the morning racing around checking on all my “guests,” but by early afternoon, I’m alone with Dain. Well, with Dain and Jacko and Malric. Alianor braced the warg’s leg because he refuses to rest in my room.
As for Dain, Mom set him and Wilmot up in one of the hunters’ cabins. Doctor Fendrel is tending to Wilmot, and Dain has promised me an archery lesson. He hasn’t spoken to my mother directly. I know he still believes she’s responsible for what happened to his family. That’s something we’ll need to work out later.
We head to the back pasture, where Sunniva is playing. The filly has stayed, so far. That’s her choice. It must always be her choice. She won’t go near the stable and has claimed the best pasture instead. Courtois’s private pasture.
The big unicorn stands on the far side with his back to the filly, doing his best to ignore her. As we approach, she races up to him and feints aside as he wheels.
“Watch that horn!” I shout. “You won’t look so good full of holes.”
She tears around and runs right at Courtois. He lowers his horn and charges.
I gasp. “Sunni—!”
At the last second, the filly takes to the skies. She soars over Courtois’s head. He whinnies and stamps his hooves.
Dain laughs. Courtois hears that and turns to us, shaking his horn in warning. Jacko jumps off my head and lands between us, chatter
ing at Courtois.
I snatch up the jackalope. “Leave the unicorn-taunting to monsters with wings, please.”
Jacko bares his teeth at Courtois. Malric plunks down with a heavy sigh. The jackalope hops onto the warg’s back and gets comfortable. Malric only sighs again.
Dain sets up the wooden bull’s-eye. He’s walking back when Rhydd appears, thumping along with his crutch.
“Did I hear something about archery lessons?” Rhydd says.
Dain turns and fumbles a clumsy bow. “Your highness.”
“It’s Rhydd. And I’m hoping to get in on these lessons.”
Dain looks at me, panic lighting behind his eyes. “I, uh, I’m not really qualified to train a king.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not king yet.”
He tosses Dain an easy grin, trying to put him at ease. Dain’s been avoiding my brother since we arrived. He’s comfortable with me, but Rhydd is his future ruler, and Dain doesn’t seem to know what to make of him.
Dain gives a slow, careful nod. “Sure, you’re welcome to sit in on—”
“Rowan!” a voice calls. We look to see Alianor racing across the pasture.
“What’s wrong?” I say.
“It’s the gryphon. I performed a more complete examination, and I think…” She inhales. “I think we missed something earlier.”
She takes off, waving for me to follow, and I race after her.
* * *
That evening, we’re in the rear courtyard. Everyone’s there. My mother. Rhydd. Berinon. Heward. The council. Dain. Alianor and her father and brother.
Malric sits beside me, his yellow eyes fixed on Lanslet.
I hold Jacko in my arms. He’d rather perch on my shoulders, where he can see better, but this is an important meeting. No one’s going to take me seriously with a jackalope on my head.
The gryphon is there, too. Bound by chains on all four legs. She’s asleep again, sedated. Every time she starts to rouse, we put her under. Heward stays a few paces from the beast. Mom strides past him and bends right in front of the gryphon’s head. Then, staying close enough to touch it, she turns to Heward and says, “Your knowledge of history has always been better than mine, cousin. I don’t think anyone in Clan Dacre has ever captured a gryphon before. Am I correct?”
A Royal Guide to Monster Slaying Page 20
