The Shadowed Throne (34 page)

She wondered where the dark griffin was now. Had he already returned to watch over his human's remains? Or was he somewhere else? No way of knowing. She was on her own now, and the Night God would be her only friend.

Saeddryn's breath misted in the air. She touched her neck again, checking for a heartbeat. Nothing.

Yet again, she fought down the fear that hid deep in her stomach.
Oh, Night God help me, I'm dead.

So far she had managed to keep her mind away from it. She knelt at the altar now and muttered a frantic prayer, concentrating all her thoughts on the Night God and her sacred duty. This was all that mattered.

“I won't be like Arenadd,” she promised. “I'll be strong, I swear.”

A strange feeling of unease began to prickle along her spine. Turning away abruptly, she walked out of the circle and down the mountainside.

The further away from the circle she went, the better she felt, and she began to think of her mission again. She had paid her respects, and now it was time to go to her work.

She leapt back into darkness and sped away over the snowbound landscape.

H
igh up on a ledge outside his cave, the Mighty Skandar had watched the entire scene play out at the stones, standing impassive and still like a part of the mountain itself. He didn't see Saeddryn go into the shadows, but he flinched when he felt the magic flow out of him again. It came out through his skin, making it prickle and turn cold.

This was something he had felt before many times, and he didn't like it, but at least it was easier than before. He didn't have to spew it from his beak any more like a scream; he had learnt how to control it so that less of it would escape. He had never talked to Arenadd about it because his mate Hyrenna had always told him that magic was something to talk to other griffins about, and never humans. Not even his own human.

He had not felt his magic being taken in a long time, not since Arenadd had fallen and not stood up again. The one-eyed human was taking it now. Arenadd didn't like her, and Skandar . . . Skandar didn't care. She was just another human, like all the others, and only one human had ever mattered to him.

Skandar huffed out a beakful of fog and went back into his cave. The familiar stench of decay burned in his nostrils, and he went back to stand over Arenadd's body. It was damaged now, after the ugly little griffin had tried to steal it. Skandar hissed at the memory and pushed the body further into the cave with his beak, trying to make it look neater. The rotting limbs flopped about, seeming to move on their own, and Skandar stopped and peered down intently.

No more movement.

Skandar nudged the body again. “Human wake now?”

Only silence replied.

Skandar heaved a deep sigh and lay down on his belly. He had tried to use his magic again, to make Arenadd get up, but it hadn't worked. No matter what he did, the black energy, that captive scream he remembered from long ago, had refused to come. It was gone, and could not be used again. But Arenadd had to wake up, so that they could go home.

Home. The thought of it filled Skandar's simple mind with images and senses, of his comfortable nest with the golden trough full of sweet water, the finest meat brought to him whenever he commanded it. Females, all the finest and strongest in his territory, coming to him chirping and lifting their tails eagerly.

And Arenadd was there beside him every day, to brush his coat and make it glossy, to clean and polish his talons, or just to stay with him and talk when he wanted company.

Skandar whimpered softly. He missed his home so badly it hurt, but he could never go back. Not without his human, who had been beside him so long as his friend and the key to his power. Without Arenadd, Skandar was not Mighty any more.

“Wake!” he said again, almost forlornly. “Wake now! Human come back! Skandar . . .” His head sagged. “Skandar . . . need . . . human.”

Lonely and bewildered, the griffin that had once been the Mighty Skandar slept.

T
hat night Skandar dreamed the white-griffin dream.

She came to him as she had done long ago when he was young, her white feathers glowing with silvery light. Young and slender, very good to look at, until she turned her head and a black hole gaped in place of an eye.

Skandar stood up when she came closer to him, but said nothing as she rubbed herself against him. Her tail-feathers flicked under his beak, and he rasped softly with lust.

Mighty Skandar,
her voice said.
You are all alone.

Skandar stalked her, his tail swishing briskly from side to side. “Want mate.”

She ignored him.
Skandar, why are you not at your human's side?

“Am with human,” Skandar snapped back. “Never leave until you come.”

No. You are alone, Skandar. Alone in this cave.

“With human,” said Skandar.

You are lying beside a rotting corpse.

“Human come back.”

Arenadd is not the Shadow That Walks any more,
said the white griffin.
You know that.

“Human always be shadow that walk,” Skandar said stoutly. “Always come back. Wait, and see.”

There is a new shadow now, Skandar. You created her. Have you forgotten?

“Not care.”

You must care,
said the white griffin.
You have given the dark power to a new human, and now she is yours. You must go to her and be her partner. Help her to do what must be done.

Skandar cocked his head. “What do?”

Your new human must destroy the half-breed ones and take back Tara's throne.

“Not care,” Skandar said again.

Do you not understand?
said the white griffin.
This is something that will be good for you.

“Why want? Why good?”

You long to go home,
said the white griffin.
You want your old power back. Join with Saeddryn, and she will give you back your home. You will not be an unpartnered griffin any more. You will be the Mighty Skandar!

Skandar said nothing.

And you will fight again,
the white griffin continued.
You were glorious in war. Now war has come again. You shall relive the greatest time of your life! Is that not what you want, Mighty Skandar?

Her voice was purring, beguiling.

“Want home,” Skandar said slowly. “Want fight.”

Then you know what you must do. Go to Saeddryn. Fight beside her. She will be a good human for you.

Skandar looked at the floor for a time, and his tail twitched. At last, he looked up, and his silver eyes had grown brighter. “Mighty Skandar have only one human,” he said. “Only Arenadd. Only one for Skandar. Never be another.”

Arenadd is gone,
the white griffin said.
He will never come back to you.

But Skandar turned away. “Arenadd come back.”

He will not come back!

“Will!” Skandar rose up angrily, spreading his wings wide, and pointed his talons straight at the white griffin. “Will come back!
Will come back!
” He screeched it out with all his might, again and again, until it seemed to echo all around him.
Come back, come back, come, come, come . . .

Skandar woke up.

He woke up angry.

Rising to his paws, he spread his wings over Arenadd's body. “Come back!” he said again, in his sternest voice. “Human
will
come back, and Skandar will see it!”

Silence. Awful silence.

Skandar turned away abruptly and paced around the cave, his wings brushing against the jagged walls. “Skandar have human back one day,” he said aloud. “Maybe not soon. But not do nothing! Am Mighty Skandar! Am greatest griffin in this land! Territory still mine, and humans not take it!” He looked back at the body, and his voice quietened. “Go now. Mighty Skandar will prove he is still Mighty. Will do it without human, to prove his might more. But will not forget. Will not leave. Arenadd is the human of Mighty Skandar, and Skandar will come back.”

Determined now, swelling with power, he charged to the cave entrance and hurled himself out into the sky. Morning had come while he slept, and he set out over the mountains to hunt.

He hunted all morning, even after he had already eaten his first kill. By noon he returned to the cave, weighed down by two small deer. He carried them inside and laid them down beside Arenadd's body, tearing open the hides to expose the tenderest meat.

Still not satisfied, he flew outside again and searched out some trees. Humans ate green things as well as meat, everyone knew that.

Unable to find anything else, he ripped a large branch off a conifer and brought that back as well, laying it next to the deer. Finally, he touched Arenadd's forehead with his beak. “Human stay here. Have food now. Skandar come back. Promise.”

He left the cave. Outside, to make certain that nothing would get in, he sank his talons into the cliff face above the entrance and pulled down, hard. Pieces of rock came crashing down in a shower of earth and snow. Skandar shovelled them into place with his paws, covering the cave entrance as well as he could. Arenadd could get out once he woke up; he was clever. But if any other griffins came sniffing about, they would never see the entrance or think it was important.

Certain that he had done all he needed to, the Mighty Skandar flew away. Heading into the heart of his rightful territory and toward the war that brewed there.

H
igh up in the gallery above the council chamber, Kullervo sat beside Senneck and waited nervously for Laela to arrive. Below, the council had gathered and stood in a circle, human and griffin alike. Iorwerth and Kaanee were there, too, having returned to Malvern the day before.

Kullervo shuffled closer to Senneck. They were the only ones in the tiered seating that circled the chamber—this particular council meeting wasn't open to the public, and the guards outside had only let Kullervo and Senneck in because they had had direct orders from Laela herself.

“It has been far too long since I have been in this place,” Senneck remarked. She stood up to peer down at the platform where Laela would stand, and sighed. “I have stood on that platform, back when it was golden like the sun. I saw the Mighty Kraal himself here in all his glory.
Raakkakee!
What a magnificent male he was! I would have given it all to be his mate, but only the highest and most powerful females could come to him.”

Kullervo fidgeted. He had been given a fine set of clothes to wear, including an oversized velvet cloak to hide his wings, and they were uncomfortable. “You knew the Mighty Kraal? What was he like?”

“The largest griffin I have ever seen,” said Senneck. “And the most powerful. I marvelled that he could even fly.” She glanced sideways at Kullervo. “It is said his only match was his son, the dark griffin.”

“Wait, Skandar is the Mighty Kraal's son?”

“Yes. I do not know if he knows it, but it would not have mattered to him if he did. He killed the Mighty Kraal himself, on the day the sun went dark and Malvern fell.”

Kullervo shivered. “That must have been such a terrible day.”

“It was,” she said shortly. “Be ready now; your sister has come.”

Kullervo stood, too, and hurried to the edge of the gallery to look down. Sure enough, there was Laela entering the chamber, with Oeka, silent and ungainly, by her side. Iorwerth and Kaanee stood aside to let them step up onto the silver-painted platform, and the meeting began immediately.

“Warwick's been won,” Laela told them without ceremony. “Arddryn Taranisäii an' Rakek are both dead. So is Aenae. As for Saeddryn . . . there's reason to believe she might still be out there somewhere. An' there's still Caedmon an' Fruitsheart left to deal with. Iorwerth an' I have talked it over an' made plans for how we're gonna deal with that. Obviously, if Saeddryn's alive, then she'll head for Fruitsheart. As for Fruitsheart, we can't expect help from the governor there. She's stopped sendin' us messages, an' the word is the people are armin' themselves. Last griffiner we sent there never came back. So I think we're safe sayin' they ain't about to give us Caedmon.”

She paused significantly.

“I don't think I need to tell yeh what's gonna happen if Saeddryn gets there before we do. We're gonna strike hard, an' fast. The unpartnered are ready to go—desperate for it, in fact. Anyone got any objections?”

No-one did.

“Right then,” Laela resumed. “Now listen. I know this looks simple, but it ain't. I want one thing from all of yeh, an' that's
caution
. Have someone taste yer food. Don't go nowhere without yer partner. If yeh haven't got a personal guard, get one. Keep a weapon on yeh all day every day.”

“Why?” someone spoke up. “What's happened?”

“We're at war is what's happened,” Laela snapped. “An' I have reason to think there might be assassins about. Good ones. Is that understood? Take it seriously. Protect yerselves an' each other if yeh want to stay alive.”

Iorwerth coughed. “I understand, my lady. And I advise all of ye to listen. Not all of ye fought in the war, but I did, and trust me—assassinating councils is the first thing enemies think of.”

Kullervo, watching and listening from above, could hear every word. The council chamber had been designed to make sounds from below carry, and it worked. “What about us?” he muttered to Senneck. “When are they going to talk about us?”

Below, Laela spoke up again. “Now that's all out in the open, there's one last thing for me to bring up before it's your turn. It's occurred to me that we don't have anyone servin' as Master of Diplomacy, an' I've decided it's time that post was filled.” She gestured to the woman standing quietly on her left. “By the new Master of Wisdom, Lady Inva.”

Several councillors protested.

“Why her?” one actually called out. “Why not one of us?”

“Yeh've all got positions already; yeh ain't got the time for another one.”

“I meant one of
us
,” the angry councillor persisted. “A real Northerner.”

Laela cleared her throat. “All right then. Name a real Northerner what knows Amorani.”

“What? What's that—that's not the—”

“That
is
the point,” Laela snapped. “Inva's a griffiner, she knows about travellin', an' she speaks more languages than anyone in this damn Eyrie. An' she knows Amoran, an' that's where I'm sendin' her. Unless yeh'd rather it was
you
what went.”

“Amoran?” another councillor said. “Why Amoran?”

“Just a courtesy visit,” Laela said placidly. “They're our allies now after all. I'm sendin' Inva an' Skarok, an' a few helpers, with some gifts for the Emperor.”

“Oh,” said the councillor who had protested. “I see.”

“No more complaints, then?” said Laela.

“No. Apologies, my lady.”

“Helpers!” Kullervo repeated to himself.

Senneck nudged him. “She cannot tell them that it is our mission as much as Skarok's. They do not know us or have a reason to trust us.”

“Amoran!” Kullervo smiled dreamily. “I can't wait to see it!”

“I have wondered what it is like,” Senneck admitted. “I have heard that griffins are almost seen as gods there.”

“And a winged man might be just what the Emperor needs to persuade him to fight for us,” said Kullervo.

“Indeed.” Senneck rubbed her head against his shoulder. “You and I,” she purred. “You and I, Kullervo, shall do great things. I am certain of it.”

Kullervo's heart fluttered. Ignoring the talk from below, he pressed his face into her feathers and inhaled the wild scent of them, loving the feel of her and her warmth. “And in Amoran, we'll be safe,” he murmured. “She won't find us there.”

“
Kraeaina kran ae
cannot survive in the land of the sun,” said Senneck. “There will be nothing to fear.”

They stayed where they were while the council meeting carried on, sharing their excitement, though Kullervo couldn't have known exactly what Senneck was thinking in that moment that made her so happy and affectionate.

Amoran is the key. I will teach him all he must know to control his magic. But more than that, I shall make a lord out of him, a greater Lord than poor Erian ever was. There will be no more failure for Senneck of Eagleholm. In Amoran, I shall have all the time that I need, and I shall use it to its full.
She spread her wing over Kullervo, pulling him closer to herself.
I shall not lose him. I shall not let him die. Not even
Kraeaina kran ae
can take him from me. I swear this on my life.

W
hen the meeting was over and the councillors left, Senneck got Kullervo onto her back and half-jumped down onto the floor and to the platform. Laela and Oeka were still there, the latter crouched in silent meditation as she had been for most of the meeting.

Laela looked tired and vaguely irritable. “That went down fine, I reckon. Looks like I got it all sorted out.”

Kullervo gave her a quick hug. “I never saw you look so much like a Queen before.”

Laela smiled with pleasure. “The crown helps. So, yeh feelin' ready for Amoran?”

“We both are,” said Kullervo. He touched her shoulder solemnly. “Don't worry, Laela; we'll find an answer there. Someone there must know how to stop this.”

“An' if they don't, then at least that husband of mine might send over some troops.”

“You never told me you were married before,” said Kullervo.

“Only in Amoran.” She shrugged. “Marriage ain't valid in Tara unless it's a proper Northerner ceremony. Amoranis don't mind; if it's valid in Amoran, it's valid to them. But talk to him especially. If we're lucky, he might come back with yeh an' bring some extra manpower. See how it goes. Appeal to his sense of adventure if nothin' else works. I'm sure it won't come to that, though.”