Meera grinned suddenly, opening up a small pouch at her belt.
There was a sharp hissing sound and two baby nahashim slid out onto her arm, snaking their way in tight coils to her elbow. “Shhhhh,” she cooed, and stroked their backs with a finger. “They can get inside Seathorne, and deliver any message we need. They can also seek out anyone, or anything,” she eyed me, “we might need or be looking for. And in turn, I can intercept any nahashim he sends our way. For the last two months, I’ve been destroying his most effective secret weapon. One by one.”
“Meera, that’s genius,” I said, before glancing around at my council to make sure no one was about to bolt. We’d just thrown them all into a midnight meeting with vorakh and nahashim. But everyone was still. And calm. It was a good sign.
“Once the plan is in place, I’ll get word to Kenna,” Meera said. “And then we go.”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “Tell us everything you know.”
We broke camp before dawn, marching in the dark to the Glemarian border. Lyr’s sword, the red shard, shone against her back, her hair glowing red now, even without the sun to change it. She emitted so much power, working with Aiden to glamour our entire soturi in shadows as we crossed into the wilds of Glemaria. It had been left unguarded on purpose by my father. It was one of his cruelties, and thus had become a hot spot for akadim activity, one that left my people unprotected. With all the demons known to the area, and the loyalty he had of Hartavia’s Arkasva and people, no one ever came through here.
Until today, when I stepped over the border. I took in the fresh scent of pine, the scent that I’d always loved, that always reminded me of home. I could see the familiar outlines of the mountains rising against the trees. To the left was the Allurian Pass, Aemon’s hideout. The mountains where Morgana had taken the indigo shard.
I looked around, stepping on the familiar landscape, even recognizing the field we’d entered. The last time I’d been here was for the last Alissedari.I’d been dropped off in the early morning with every other soturion participating. Wild gryphons had been all over the woods and fields. I’d been with Garrett, fighting to claim a gryphon, and earn his trust, enough that I could get him to fly me to the tournament and compete in it.
This was where we’d been ambushed. Where the akadim had attacked Garrett, leaving him forsaken for hours, turning in silence until he finally confessed what had happened in the arena. And asked me to kill him.
Asked me to let him die as himself.
All because of my father. Because he’d allowed the akadim inside. But that ended tonight.
The clock tower rang out and in the distance a flock of roaring, squawking gryphons came into view as they flew just above the trees. My heart sang. I hadn’t seen or ridden one since—since the night before I died.
And right now, Artem, my old friend and Glemaria’s stable master, was heading for us, leading the flock. There were about a dozen flying behind him. Dario had been able to send a message to Kenna via Meera’s nahashim, explaining our transport needs once we reached the border.
Lyr and Aiden stepped forward, releasing the shadow glamour that covered us, just enough so Artem could see. His gryphon moved into the sunlight and I gasped audibly, seeing its feathers and fur.
“By the Gods,” Sean exclaimed. “Is that?—”
My eyes widened, my heart leaping. No. It couldn’t. It couldn’t be. But it was. A wide grin filled my face. Artem landed in front of me, riding on the back of a beautiful newly adult gryphon I never thought I’d see again. Not after he helped me escape from my father. He was unlike any other gryphon in Glemaria, not bronze, or silver. He was red. He flew with bright red feathers. Batavia red.
“How?” I asked. “I thought he went home.” The gryphon was born in the Afeyan lands, part of the Star Court. But he’d ended up outside of Seathorne as a baby, and in need of care.
Artem shrugged, patting the gryphon’s head. “I think he likes me.” His eyes crinkled, looking down at me. “The lad just keeps coming back.”
Lyr stepped forward looking mesmerized. “I’ve never seen one this color.”
Jules looked equally enthralled, and smiled. “He’s beautiful.”
I stood back, my heart filling with joy, as I opened my arms. The gryphon met my eyes, eyeing me up and down, thenhe started forward, butting his head into my belly, like he was trying to burrow his way in, just like he had when he was a baby.
“Hey. Hey now,” I said, rubbing behind his ears. “I missed you, too, buddy.”
Artem descended, and slapped his knee. His pants were covered, as always, in dirt and straw from the stables. “Welcome back, Rhyan,” he said, his eyes sweeping over me.
“Artem,” I said, and opened my arms for a hug.
He shook his head. “I smell like gryphon shit.”
I laughed. “You always did.” I pulled him into a hug. And he patted me on the back. The rest of the gryphons in the flock began to land, each one touching down and squawking or kicking at the dirt and grass beneath them with their claws.
“He’s beautiful,” Lyr said, coming over to stroke his feathers. My gryphon looked up at her, and immediately pushed his head into her hand.
I would have called him a traitor, going to her so fast, but I couldn’t blame him when I had the same urge. If he was going to love anyone else besides me, Lyr was a good choice. I was glad to see that she seemed to feel the same way about him. Much to my disappointment, she had taken a little longer to warm up to the creatures—though considering her first ever time riding one had been trapped in the arms of Aemon’s akadim, right after Parthenay had bound and captured us—I didn’t blame her.
Parthenay.
My vision darkened suddenly, the visceral scent of grass and blood and sweat in my nose.
