Erian sat back in his chair. He was flabbergasted. “Warwick, Skenfrith, Fruitsheart . . . the griffins working for
him
? How could they? What . . . how could he have . . .”
“The Night God gave him powers,” Kraal reminded him. “And he has used them well. Erian, you are our last hope. If you defeat
Kraeai kran ae
when he comes here, his rebellion will be finished. The unpartnered ones will come back to us when they see their leader dead, and we will crush these upstart darkmen who have the arrogance to believe they can govern
themselves
, let alone a nation.”
Erian put his hands over his face. “Oh gods. How can I do this? How can I kill
him
? He’s . . . Oh Gryphus help me, I can’t do this. How could I win against him? I’m not a warrior, I don’t have any followers—”
“You can do this,”
Kraal hissed. “Erian, look at me.”
Erian obeyed.
“You can do this,” Kraal said again. “You are
Aeai ran kai
. There is no doubt left. You have come this far—how can you lose hope now?”
Erian couldn’t look away. “But how can I do it?” he asked piteously. “How?”
“You have the weapon,” said Kraal. “When
Kraeai kran ae
comes, you must go to the Sun Temple and wait for him there. He will come to you. When he enters the temple, he will lose his powers, and you will fight him as an equal.”
Erian felt a stirring of hope return. “He’ll come to me?”
“He will, for he knows what a threat you are to him, and he will stop at nothing to kill you before you destroy him,” said Kraal. “In his arrogance, he will believe he can defeat you without his powers.”
“I think I could fight him,” said Erian. “If we fought like that . . . as equals.”
“You can, and you shall,” said Kraal. “Erian, listen. It is time for you to know the last part of what you must do.”
“What?” said Erian.
“
Aeai ran kai
shall find
Kraeai kran ae
, driven to him by a power stronger than his own will,” said Kraal, almost reciting the words. “The two shall meet, and they shall know each other. The avatar of the Night God shall be destroyed when the sun’s champion finds his heart.”
Erian listened closely. “His heart. I have to . . .”
“Yes!” Kraal hissed. “Find his heart, Erian. That is his weakness. Find his black, dead heart and plunge the sacred weapon into it. Do it, and he will die.
You must kill him
.”
Erian’s own heart beat fast. “I will,” he said. “I swear I will.”
P
erhaps Arenadd was confident that Skade would return soon, but Saeddryn wasn’t.
“Sir, with respect, we can’t afford to wait,” she told him, having requested an audience and been reluctantly granted it by Arenadd, who had already suspected why she wanted it. Now she faced him determinedly, upon the tower-top, which had become his favourite haunt.
Arenadd looked at her and sighed. “Is that so?”
“It is, an’ ye know it, sir,” said Saeddryn.
Arenadd watched her thoughtfully. She, too, carried herself more proudly these days, despite her missing eye. Behind her, a young griffin clicked his beak and moved closer to her protectively. It was Aenae, one of Skandar’s sons, who had inherited his father’s silver eyes but his mother’s ash-grey hindquarters and rusty-orange wing feathers.
“Well?” Saeddryn pressed.
Arenadd pulled himself back to reality. “Saeddryn, I know you’re impatient. So am I. All we need is a few more days, I swear.”
“How can ye be so sure?” she demanded.
Aenae nudged at her shoulder. “My father’s human is the Shadow that Walks,” he said. “I trust him to know what is best, and so should you.”
Arenadd grinned. “Besides,” he said, “there’s something important we have to do first.”
“What, sir?” said Saeddryn.
“Have you talked to your intended lately?” said Arenadd.
“A little,” Saeddryn said stiffly. “What does that have t’do with—”
Arenadd yawned. “It’s a half-moon tonight. The Deer Moon. Perfect for a little celebration up at the Throne, wouldn’t you say? Perhaps even a wedding?”
Saeddryn looked surprised.
“A wedding?”
“Of course. I think you and Torc have waited long enough, and wouldn’t you rather marry now than risk one of you dying at Malvern and losing the chance forever? I’m sure Skandar will take us there without any trouble. We can leave Iorwerth and Kaanee in charge. What d’you say?”
“I’m not sure . . .” Saeddryn began.
“If you’re not, why not ask Torc?” said Arenadd. “I’m sure he can help you. He loves you, you know. He’d been watching you and secretly pining for you for months before he gave you his stone.”
Saeddryn looked at her feet, suddenly shamefaced. “I understand, sir. I’ll go an’ find him now.”
Arenadd nodded in satisfaction as she walked away, followed by Aenae.
Not for the first time, he thought of how cunning his cousin was. She had taken an active role in caring for Hyrenna’s chicks, until one of them, Aenae, had taken to following her around. She had begun to favour him and give him the best food along with all of her affections, until he began sleeping curled up on her bed at night like a cat. When he reached physical maturity, there was no doubt left as to whether he would choose a human—or which human it would be.
The bond with the griffin had given Saeddryn all the respect she had wanted and had blamed Arenadd for denying her when he refused to marry her. And no doubt it had taken away some of her humiliation at having to marry Torc, a mere ex-slave half her age.
“Perhaps they can be happy together,” Arenadd murmured and turned away to keep watching the sky. Around him, the banners of the four tribes fluttered from the poles that had once flown the sunwheel. The wolf with the full moon, the bear carrying the crescent, the deer with the half-moon and the crow with a star.
He smiled to himself, rather sadly. Perhaps Saeddryn could come to love her husband in time.
As always, Skade intruded on his thoughts yet again. His smile faded.
Gods, Skade. I miss you so much I want to die. Please, come back. Come back to me, Skade. Soon
.
Saeddryn didn’t return, and he eventually gave up and went below to find something to eat, his mind full of a vision of Skade smiling so sweetly at him.
I love you, Arenadd
.
In his memory, he reached out to touch her, his eyes lost in hers. Those beautiful eyes, so blue . . .
I love you too, Flell
.
Arenadd jerked in surprise. “What?” he said aloud.
Skade,
he thought.
Skade, you idiot! You love Skade, no-one else. You’ve never loved anyone but her
.
In his head, the memory warped and shifted. And there was Skade, amber-eyed and silver-haired.
I love you, Arenadd
.
I love you too, Skade
.
He sighed wistfully and wandered into the dining hall, where Yorath, who had taken to working in the kitchen, brought him some food.
While he was eating it, he heard a polite cough from the doorway.
“Come in, Torc,” he said, without turning around.
There was a pause, and Torc stepped into his line of vision. He was neatly dressed, in a tunic with a high collar that hid the scars on his neck, and had a look of barely suppressed excitement on his face. “Saeddryn said you want us t’get married tonight.”
Arenadd put down his cup. “I certainly do. The Deer Moon is tonight—a time for destiny, and for your tribe, Torc. Perfect.”
Torc’s eyes shone. “Who’ll conduct the ceremony, sir?”
“I will, of course,” said Arenadd. “If you and Saeddryn are ready.”
“We are, sir,” said Torc. “Oh gods, I can’t believe it . . . I’ve waited so long, an’ now . . .” He coughed. “Sorry. Yes, I’m ready, sir. So’s Saeddryn.”
“Good,” said Arenadd. “We’ll leave this afternoon, to make sure we get to the Throne in time for moonrise. We’ll spend the night in Taranis Gorge and fly back in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” said Torc. “I’ll tell Saeddryn, sir.”
T
hat afternoon, having instructed Iorwerth and Kaanee to supervise during their absence, Arenadd and Skandar prepared to leave. Two of the unpartnered, wanting to see the mountains, agreed to carry Torc and Saeddryn. Aenae and his brother Iekee came too.
Nerth, Garnoc, Yorath and Iorwerth had gathered to see them off.
“Don’t worry,” Torc told them proudly. “I’ll take good care of my wife, I will, and Lord Arenadd and the Mighty Skandar will take care of both of us.”
“And in the meantime, Iorwerth, you and Kaanee will take care of Fruitsheart,” Arenadd said sternly.
“There’s no need to fear, my lord,” said Iorwerth. “Ye can trust us.”
Arenadd nodded, from Skandar’s back. “I know I can. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
Skandar rasped impatiently and took off, and his two sons followed.
The flight to Taranis’ Throne took a long time, but Arenadd enjoyed it. It had been a long while since he and Skandar had flown any great distance, without relying on the shadows to take them there, and he suddenly realised how much he had missed the feel of wind—
real
wind—and the touch of the sun on his face.
Skandar, too, seemed to be enjoying it, though he had to fly more slowly than he preferred so that the youngsters could keep up.
They reached the mountains by late evening, and Skandar landed first, in the middle of the stone circle where Arenadd had first encountered the Night God such a long time ago.
Arenadd dismounted and scratched his partner under the beak. “Ah . . . it’s good to be back, isn’t it?”
Skandar shook himself. “Is good,” he agreed. “Like this place.”
“So do I.” Arenadd walked slowly around the circle, touching each of the stones. He could almost feel the Night God’s presence here, in her last surviving holy place.
He wondered, briefly, if
Aeai ran kai
would feel the same agony in this circle that he himself felt if he stepped inside one of Gryphus’ temples.
The others landed a moment later. Saeddryn looked around rather uncertainly at the sacred stones, but Torc stepped toward her and took her hand. She started, but didn’t pull away.
To Arenadd’s surprise, she smiled.
Arenadd spread his hands. “Welcome to Taranis’ Throne, Torc Taranisäii. This is where King Taranis was crowned, centuries ago when our people were all true warriors. And this is where I came to be initiated, and where I met the Night God for the first time.”
Saeddryn looked up. “Ye saw her here, sir?”
“Yes,” said Arenadd. “On the night of the Blood Moon, I met her in the circle. That was when she told me who I really was.”
“An’ after that ye ran away,” Saeddryn murmured.
“Yes,” said Arenadd. “Out of fear. But I came back.” He looked up at the sky, where the first stars were coming out. “I realised I couldn’t run away from my real self, or my god, or my people.”
Torc was watching him with an awestruck expression. “What do we do next, sir?”
“We wait until moonrise,” said Arenadd. “When the moon is highest in the sky, we’ll begin.”
A
long time later, when night had closed in and the half-moon was directly overhead, Arenadd conducted the wedding ceremony while the griffins slept outside the circle.
He, Saeddryn and Torc had stripped to their waists, and wore nothing but simple fur kilts. Each of them had put on a mask. Saeddryn wore a wolf mask, and Torc a deer. Arenadd wore the griffin mask Arddryn had worn on the night she had initiated him into the Wolf Tribe.
Torc and Saeddryn stood on either side of the stone altar in the middle of the circle, and Arenadd, standing in front of them, began the ritual he had learnt from Arddryn, which he had never thought he would have any reason to use.
“May the moon and the stars and the night witness the union of two souls, who have chosen to unite in love and harmony before the bright eye of the Night God. The moon has turned and turned again since the beginning of the world, and now, with the coming of the Deer Moon—the moon of destiny—we have come before you, god of the shadows and the dark. May you bear witness to these two souls—Torc Taranisäii of the Deer Tribe, and Saeddryn Taranisäii of the Wolf Tribe—and give them your blessing.”
Torc turned to look at Saeddryn’s masked face, his own mask hiding the smile he was probably wearing. “Saeddryn Taranisäii of the Wolf Tribe,” he declared. “I have chosen your heart an’ declared my love, and I wish to spend my life with you.” He drew a copper knife from his waistband and held it up. “Witness my sacrifice to you,” he said and pulled it over the palm of his hand. Blood trickled out, and he handed the knife to Saeddryn.