Page 12

12

Stolen by the Wind

I wake to pounding on the door. I am only groggily opening my eyes when I hear Daenn’s feet thud on the floor. He’s up and across the room in seconds, his hair mussed from sleep, but he’s alert, tense, apparently in his role of gryphon clans’ king from the moment he opened his eyes.

Lars waits on the other side.

“Your Majesty,” he greets Daenn with a fist to his chest. “Healer Annika sent me. Kettil is gone, and two more have fallen into the magic sleep.”

And suddenly I’m as awake as Daenn, jolting upright in bed.

“Who?” Daenn asks. The only sign he has feelings about Kettil’s passing is the way his knuckles turn white in their grip of the door handle, something Lars can’t see but I can.

Lars’ gaze slides to the side—slides toward me—before jerking back to Daenn. “Bjorn and Elder Toric.”

Bjorn. The other guard who escorted me to the feast yesterday. And Elder Toric... he was one of the men we talked to at the feast. I don’t know the man well, but he was memorable because he outright smiled at Daenn, looking at him like a proud grandfather.

Daenn’s hand flexes on the door handle again. “Are the preparations for our departure ready? ”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The men you requested are saddling the gryphons now.”

Daenn is shaking his head before Lars finishes speaking. “Have them saddle mine and Emana’s, but not the others. We’ll go alone.”

Lars’ eyes widen. “King Daenn, the jungle...”

“I know, but anyone who lingers near us is at risk, and should any of you fall comatose, you will be unable to fly. I won’t strand my people.”

“It’s our duty—our honor—to take that risk, Your Majesty.” Lars leans forward with the intensity of his words. “Don’t put yourself in more danger to protect us. That is our role.”

But as one who rarely won an argument once Daenn set his jaw the way he has now, I already know what Daenn will say before he speaks.

“And I thank you and the other warriors for being willing to take that risk, but my order remains the same.”

Lars’ jaw clenches, but he snaps off a nod.

Daenn lowers his voice as he continues. “I need you here. With Eskil and Bjorn both comatose, I wouldn’t put it past Viggo to try to seize more than is his by right. I’d order him from the clan if I didn’t think he’d just return as soon as I fly out of sight.”

Lars’ entire expression hardens. “We’ll be ready if he tries anything, Your Majesty.”

My brows rise. It seems the feud between Daenn and Viggo extended beyond their personal disagreements as they grew older if even Daenn’s warriors distrust him so thoroughly. Maybe Viggo is more like his father than I know.

Daenn’s only response is a small nod, and then he’s shutting the door and turning back to me. He stops when he sees me awake .

“I apologize. I was hoping to answer it before it woke you. You used to be a—” He cuts himself off, but I know what he was about to say. I used to be a heavy sleeper, before I had a husband who would prowl to my room at night when he was drunk. And Daenn knows my former sleeping habits because we used to be close, but I can’t focus on that.

“Kettil’s dead?” My voice breaks a little. “I killed him.”

“No.” Daenn says the words with a quiet intensity. “No, I killed him. My magic is deadly. Yours... yours only delayed the inevitable.”

I want to believe him. It would be easy to believe him, and yet I can’t. Kettil had been with me. I’m the fool who tried snuffing out Daenn’s magic and caused our magics to intertwine. Kettil is dead because of me. Daenn too, yes, but I played my role. It’s only a matter of time before the same happens to Eskil. Bjorn. Elder Toric. The woman—I wish I had learned her name.

“I’m glad the guards aren’t going with us,” I say, my voice warbling. It’s terrifying going into the jungle with only Daenn, but Daenn is formidable. I can’t bear to put more people at risk. I flip the covers off myself and stand. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as you have packed and eaten,” Daenn says. “I have a few things to take care of before we go. I’ll send Sigrid with your breakfast.”

He’s pulling on a fresh shirt, so he doesn’t see my nod, but I don’t bother amending it with words. There are too many knots in my belly at the thought of Sigrid coming anywhere near me again. It’s a blessing that she hasn’t been taken by this curse already.

Once I’ve eaten and packed, I go to visit Zephyr before we leave. The gryphon meets me at the entrance to her nest, curling her head around my shoulder and ushering me into the cozy space. She circles a few times, casting a critical eye over me.

“I’m fine, Zephyr,” I say, laughing a little. “Truly. The same can’t be said for my victims.”

Zephyr gives a little squawk before ruffling her feathers and settling down next to her sleeping babies.

“I’ve come to say goodbye.”

Her head jerks back up.

“I’m coming back,” I hasten to add. “I did something with my magic the other day.” I hesitate on how much to explain to her. She’s intelligent enough to understand, but it’s convoluted and I only have a moment before Daenn might come find me.

“I’m coming back,” I repeat. I wonder if it’s true. If I survive the journey to the outskirts of the jungle and we take care of the magic, I will come back, probably, but not for long. There’s no reason for me to stay once we’ve untangled ourselves from each other, sorted Daenn’s magic out, and helped Eskil and the others.

Zephyr gently butts her head against my chest, and I wish she could fly, could be the one they chose for me to ride. I kiss the top of her beak and then shift as if to leave, but I can’t make my feet go. So we stay like that, her leaning against my torso, my fingers buried in her feathers, until I hear someone approaching. It’s enough to break the trance.

I kiss Zephyr one more time, give her a little scratch, and step away .

It’s Sigrid who’s come looking for me. She hovers near the entrance to the nest as if worried I won’t be able to make it out.

I do have to steady myself with a hand to the wall; Sigrid frowns at the offending action. “You don’t have to do this, Emana. The jungle is no place for you. The risk involved… That Daenn would even dare put you in such a position—”

“Daenn isn’t putting me anywhere,” I say grimly. I don’t like how it suggests he controls my fate. “I am choosing to go. It’s the only way to stop the magic, Sigrid, and I must. I can’t bear to hurt anyone else.”

“I agree that searching out the bracers is a good idea, but let Daenn go. You stay here, where it’s safe.”

I’m shaking my head before she’s even finished speaking. “No. What if it doesn’t work because I’m too far away? What if—” I cut myself off, not wanting even Sigrid to be privy to some of my worries. What if it kills Daenn because I’m too far away? What if my staying is still putting the clan—her—in danger? These are risks I’m unwilling to take.

“I’m going,” I say firmly, lifting my chin.

The lines around her mouth tighten, but she nods in acceptance. “The gryphons are ready, and the king is waiting for you.”

There’s a crowd gathered in the main section of the eyries when we reach there. Wind whistles around us from the cave’s opening. Beyond the drop-off, the sky is blue and clear, good flying conditions.

Sigrid and I join the crowd. It’s made up of Daenn’s warriors—and Viggo of all people. There are a few onlookers around the edges, people here solely for the spectacle .

My gaze skips over the faces, searching. I’m not even sure who I’m searching for, but when I reach Daenn, his gaze locks onto mine, halting me. Relief spreads through me.

I shake off the strange feeling and thread my way through the crowd until I stop near Daenn and the two gryphons we’ll be using for the journey. I recognize the larger one, Storm—Daenn’s gryphon and Zephyr’s mate. He’s shades of silver and grey, a perfect reflection of the clouds he’s named after, and his feathers and fur gleam in the light. He’s big, bigger than Zephyr—probably bigger than most of the gryphons in our clan’s eyries.

He tilts his head toward me, the only break in his regal manner, but I recognize the tell. He’s happy to see me.

I give him a little wave, but I wouldn’t dream of ruining his regal facade by daring to pet him in front of all these people. He would ignore me for the entire trip if I did, just out of spite.

The other, smaller gryphon I don’t recognize. But she—I think it’s a she—is sleek and beautiful with dark blue-grey feathers.

I stop near her head, putting up my hand so she can smell me, and I wait. It’s always better to wait for the gryphon to come to you. It’s the first thing every clansfolk learns in riding lessons as a child.

Daenn closes the distance between us. He speaks low so that only I will hear him. “Are you ready to leave?”

I nod, not wanting to startle the gryphon.

“Her name is Raindrop.”

He turns away, letting me introduce myself to Raindrop in peace, and addresses the crowd. I tune him out as Raindrop presses her beak into my hand .

“Hello, there,” I murmur, slowly moving to scratch her behind her beak. “Be patient with me; it’s been a while since I’ve flown alone.”

She huffs at that, but she hasn’t shown any signs of aggression, so I take it as a good sign that at least so far, she likes me.

“It’s time,” Daenn says, hand hovering near my elbow but not quite touching me. “Do you need help mounting?”

I want to tell him no, but even for a smaller gryphon, Raindrop is huge, and I don’t really fancy falling on my rear in front of the crowd of onlookers.

“Please,” I say instead. We move to Raindrop’s side, and his large hands wrap around my waist, warm even through the layers of my clothes and his gloves.

He lifts me so I can swing my leg over Raindrop’s back with ease, and he’s slow to release, ensuring I’m fully settled before he does so.

“Thank you,” I murmur, my body warming in a way that makes it hard to look at him. The crowd parts once we’re both mounted, clearing our way for flight, and without any more preamble, Storm and Raindrop break into runs and push off right at the edge of the cliff, snapping their wings out and soaring up. I dig my fingers into the feathers in front of the saddle.

My breath is stolen by the wind, and my heart soars like our gryphons. I’ve never gotten to fly as much as the warriors, but I love flying, and I let myself savor that feeling as we soar away from the clan mountain.