I watch the griffin roll the eggs, accommodating them better inside the nest. “Think I don’t know that?”
“How do you propose to steal an egg from underneath the creature’s nose? Or beak, in this case?”
“In the story,” I say, “the heroine crawls under the bird and curls inside the nest.”
“Are you completely insane?”
“Do you see any other options?” I hiss. “Nobody is coming to save us, so buckle up.”
At least, I’m moving away from the edge and that nauseating drop, even if I’m crawling toward the monster. The lion part is covered in short, golden fur, and the tufted tail swishes back and forth as I edge around the griffin. I can’t slip under it, unlike the girl in the story, because the creature has now sat. Sparkling objects are strewn about the nest, pieces of gold and jewelry.
The stories got that right.
You do what you can with the means at hand,I think.Careful now…I grimace as I scoot around a massive lion hindleg, my hands and knees scraping on the twigs.Quiet…
The griffin’s eagle head swings around, dipping down, and stops in front of me.
Shit.
I stay very still; the only sound in my ears is the thrumming of my racing heart. The creature’s gaze reminds me of Roane’s glare, flat and annoyed.
This is a dead end. There is nowhere for me to go. Suddenly, I wish for the drop at my back. It would be a cleaner death than getting gobbled down the gullet of an enraged griffin mother.
But a loud flutter and a squawk break the standstill. The griffin whips around, almost knocking me out of the nest with its hind legs—careful what you wish for—and lets out a prolonged screech that hurts my ears.
“Good day to all and sundry,” a familiar voice says. “I was invited for a cup of bone broth but IthinkI’m in the wrong nest.”
“Talton!” I scramble toward him, embarrassingly close to crying. “You came.”
“Hang on, girl,” he says. “We’ll free you.”
“How?”
The griffin snaps at him and Talton flies off, then comes back and perches on the edge of the cave. “Come to think of it, thisisthe right nest. And that was rude. Hello, there.”
The angry griffin snaps at him again, and as she swings back and forth, she kicks one of the eggs, sending it rolling.
Seeing my chance, I dive for it and grab it before it falls off the edge. “Got you.”
The griffin screeches again.
“Hold on for a moment longer!” Talton flutters off, hovering on the edge. “He’s coming.”
“Who?” I blink, the words making no sense, but I have the presence of mind to glance over the edge, and then I see it: another winged creature flying up, toward us.
Another griffin?
No, this creature has wings of flame, and astride sits Roane. It’s him, his long black hair unmistakable, blown around him by the wind.
Roane and Simu, the phoenix. Ardruna said he tamed it. She didn’t say he also rode it.
The griffin is still snapping at Talton, distracted, and I’m clutching the egg to my chest, half-hanging over the edge. Heat scalds me as the phoenix approaches, and I wonder what Roane’s plan is, when something hits my back, hard.
So hard it shoves me right over the edge, and I don’t even have breath left to scream as I fall.
“Aline!” Roane’s roar seems to shake the world, and it sounds desperate, only that can’t be right, and I’m falling, my thoughts snuffed out, my scream echoing?—
I’m snatched out of the air, the wind booming around me. An iron grip crushes my arm, almost wrenching my shoulder out of its socket, swinging me back up… into two strong arms that encircle me and haul me against a warm body.
