The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy) (38 page)

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Authors: K. J. Taylor

BOOK: The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy)
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Erian straightened up, grinning broadly. “I will, Senneck. I certainly will.”
She chirped her amusement. “Go, then.”
Erian left the hut for his own, his heart pounding. After so long, he could barely comprehend that the wait was finally over. One sentence, and it was done. And even though he had had so much time, he hadn’t stopped once to think of what he would do when they were ready to begin.
He had gathered some shellfish from the rocks down by the shore and had managed to dry the meat along with some goat and fish. He gathered up these emergency rations along with some nuts and a dried apple, and wrapped them in a makeshift bag he had made from a crudely tanned goatskin. His feet were tough now, but he had devoted a chunk of his spare time to trying to make a pair of boots. His experiments had been less than successful, but he had cut some strips of leather to wrap around his feet. They would have to do.
Other than that, he gathered his bow and arrows and his sword, and laid them out ready for the morning along with his cherished water bottle, which he had bought in the marketplace at Malvern. That should be enough.
He slept very little that night.
 
E
rian rose at dawn and gathered his belongings. He ate a quick meal of melon and some fish left over from the previous night, and left his hut. Outside, he found Senneck already waiting for him in the grey light.
“How long have you been here?”
“A little time,” she answered. “I could not sleep.”
It was odd to see her standing up after such a long time. “What about the chicks?”
“I left them sleeping. They will be safe; I have taken precautions.”
She had dragged a heavy log over to the hut’s entrance to block it and had piled sand over the top of that. She had used more sand to cover the holes in the walls. The chicks would never be able to escape the hut, and predators . . . well, Erian had been over most of the island and had never seen any predators beyond a weasel or two. The chicks should be safe.
He straightened up and tried to contain himself. “Shall we go?”
She came closer and pushed against him with her head. “Climb onto my back, and we shall fly to the mountain.”
Erian obeyed. It felt strange and clumsy to be on her back again, and though he still remembered how to balance properly, he had the nagging feeling that he was doing it wrongly. Senneck was obviously in the same situation; she stumbled a little as he shifted about, and for a moment she sagged downward. But she recovered herself and ruffled her wings. “It is a short flight,” she said, in answer to his unspoken question. “I shall not have trouble. Hold on.”
She took off, and Erian held on as she flew upward to the mountain. Closer up, it looked much taller and more craggy than he had thought, full of spurs and fissures that had been invisible from the ground. Senneck spiralled higher until she was close to the peak and then began her descent.
She landed on a rare level spot on the mountainside; it looked like a goat track and was so narrow that Senneck had to grip a nearby boulder with her talons to keep herself from sliding off it.
“Get off,” she said tersely.
Erian half-fell off her back, landing awkwardly on the path, and instantly lost his balance. He teetered on the edge, and then Senneck’s beak shot out, hooking the back of his tunic. She wrenched him toward her, and he fell hard against the rocks by the path, breathless and dizzy.
“Are you hurt?”
Erian got up, wobbling a little. “Ow. Gods, that was close.” He rubbed his head; he had hit it on a rock, and there was a bruise already forming under his hair. “You saved my life, Senneck.”
She clicked her beak. “As is expected of me. Can you walk?”
“Of course. Did you see something?”
“This path,” said Senneck. “Perhaps it leads somewhere. Do you think you can follow it safely?”
Erian looked ahead. “Well . . . it’s narrow, but there are plenty of handholds. I think I’ll be safe.”
“Good.” Senneck shifted awkwardly, still half-on and half-off the path. “This perch is too narrow for me. I will take off again and follow you from the air. If you are in difficulty, I will help.”
Erian didn’t like the idea, but he nodded anyway. “I’ll see where it leads.”
Senneck thrust away from the mountainside, dislodging several large chunks of rock and a shower of dirt. She found her wings and soared over the mountain, and Erian took a deep breath and began to walk. He placed each foot carefully and kept one hand on the rocks heaped to the side, ready to grab on if he lost his balance again.
The path was indeed tiny, and far from well used; several times it vanished altogether, and he had to clamber over fallen rocks or dirt to find it again. At other times it became so narrow that he had to put one foot directly in front of the other, as if he was trying to walk on a tightrope. Before long he was breathless and sweating, his fingers bruised from the times when he had had to snatch at the rocks to stop himself from falling, and his shins covered in cuts and grazes. His feet hurt inside their makeshift wrappings.
But while the path may have been difficult to use, it never petered out altogether, even after he had thought he had lost it more than once. It always reappeared, gradually winding its way up the mountain toward the peak.
Every so often, Erian glanced up to see Senneck flying overhead. She looked very far away, but he knew that if she thought he needed help she could reach him in an instant. It helped to comfort him and keep him going. But still the path went on, and he had no idea when it would end and whether it was leading to anything.
But this had to be where the weapon was. Senneck was right: where else would his ancestors have hidden it? What else on this island looked like a landmark? What else reached this high into the sky—toward the sun, and Gryphus?
As if to encourage him, the sun rose as he climbed, growing brighter and brighter from behind the mountain until it had set its peak ablaze with pure red and golden light. Erian, struggling on through a clump of spiny bushes, saw it and felt awe burn in his chest.
“Gryphus, guide me,” he prayed.
A distant call from Senneck reminded him of the task at hand, and he forced himself to look down again. He was nearly at the peak of the mountain now. The rocks here were a pale golden colour, flecked with silver. Ahead, he saw the path widen and sighed in relief.
Once he had gone some way further, the path suddenly took a sharp upturn. Erian paused briefly to rest and then forged on up it, gritting his teeth with the effort.
The path grew yet steeper. Before long he found himself almost climbing it, hauling himself up on the rocks that protruded from the mountainside. When he tried to put his foot on the path itself, the sandy soil gave way and his leg thrust straight downward, pulling him off balance. For a few heart-stopping seconds he scrabbled for a foothold, before he mercifully found one and pulled himself to safety, where he held on for a good long moment, gasping in shock.
A little while after that, he was ready to go on.
It seemed the path would never level out again. But, finally, he thrust upward with a hand and found a clump of grass hanging over a ledge. He grabbed hold of it, paused to take a deep breath and pulled. A quick and rough struggle hauled him up and over, onto a flat spot at the base of a heap of rocks, just wide enough for him to lie down on. He used it for just that purpose, his nose ground into the dirt, and wheezed.
There was a sudden loud thud from above him, and he started up, but it was only Senneck, preched on top of the rock heap and looking down at him.
“Erian, are you hurt?”
Erian sat with his back to the rocks, his head pounding. “Exhausted.”
“I think this is as far as the path goes,” said Senneck, her voice sounding rather distant through the thudding in his ears.
Erian grunted a response and wiped the sweat off his face with a grubby hand. “All . . . right,” he mumbled a little while later, and reluctantly stood up.
Senneck was right, the path ended there. He climbed around the rock heap but found nothing. “Why in Gryphus’ name would goats want to come up here?” he said aloud, in irritable tones, before deciding to try the other side of the heap. Might as well, after coming all this way.
And that was where he found the entrance.
It was small, just a gap in the rocks only large enough for his head to fit through. He clung to the edge and peered in, and the breeze coming from inside instantly told him that there was a space beyond it.
His heart beat fast. “Senneck, I’ve found something.”
She climbed over to look, and was quick to see what he had seen. “There is a cave beyond these rocks,” she declared.
Erian’s excitement mounted again. “This must be it! I’ll see if I can fit!”
He ignored Senneck’s protest and pushed forward, thrusting himself into the gap. He managed to fit his head and shoulders in, wedging them between two rocks with difficulty, but the gap became much narrower beyond them, and he became stuck almost instantly. He managed to pull back out, after much swearing and a moment of panic, and leant against the rocks, red faced. “Godsdamnit!”
“Move away, Erian,” Senneck snapped. “I will clear away the rocks, but you must not get in the way.”
Erian hastily obeyed. Once she was satisfied that he was out of harm’s way, Senneck climbed a little further down the heap and levered at one of the large rocks with her talons. It shifted, and she hissed and wrenched at it. A moment later it came free, and she sent it tumbling down the mountainside. A good number of other rocks went with it.
Erian coughed in the cloud of dust. “Is that it? Did you do it?”
Senneck flicked her tail to clear the air with her feathery fan. “The hole is larger. Try again, but with care. There may be loose rocks.”
Erian didn’t need any further prompting. He hurried back and found that the gap was indeed larger, more than large enough for him to fit. He climbed through it without a pause. Beyond, to his astonishment, there was . . . light.
The rock heap had been covering the entrance to a cave in the mountain. Erian went in, wonderstruck. There was light inside—daylight. There had to be another way out, and thank Gryphus, he wouldn’t be needing a torch.
“Erian!” Senneck’s voice came from outside. “What have you found?”
Erian turned back, “Senneck, it’s a cave! Come and look!”
“I cannot fit through that hole.” Her voice drifted back. “Wait, and I shall force a way through.”
Erian took shelter just inside the entrance while she pushed the rocks away, and saw something that made his heart leap. A carving in the stone.
He reached out to touch it, brushing the dust and sand away. It was a simple symbol, at about eye height, and from how worn it was he could tell it had been there for centuries. Nevertheless, he recognised it, and his hand went to the amulet around his neck.
Outside, the sunlight was suddenly cut off with a crash. But it reappeared a moment later, and he saw a shower of rocks fall away to his left, in a landslide that exposed the cave entrance entirely.
Moments later Senneck appeared, coughing irritably. “Erian.”
Erian grinned at her and backed further into the cave. “Senneck, look at this! See? There, cut into the rock! It’s a sunwheel! Senneck, we’ve found the place!”
Senneck squeezed into the cave. Once she was inside she looked at the spot he was indicating and hissed softly in surprise. “The symbol of your people. Perhaps Kraal was right after all.”
Erian ducked past her and touched it. “Of course he was. This
is
the Island of the Sun, and this cave must be where the weapon is. You were right.”
“Let us explore the cave,” said Senneck. “We shall find out soon enough.”
“Yes, of course,” said Erian. As he turned to go after her, his eye was caught by something else. There was another carving, on the opposite side of the entrance to the sunwheel. He examined it, puzzled. The symbol looked vaguely familiar.
Senneck was already pressing deeper into the cave. “Erian, come!” she called. “Do you want to search for this weapon, or do you not?”

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