The Shadowed Throne (20 page)

Opposite her, Laela groaned and put her hands over her ears. “What
is
that?”

I come.

The voice echoed in Laela's head. “What—?”

Faint whispers filled the air, and the room grew suddenly colder as Oeka came in. She moved slowly, a little clumsily. Her eyes were open, but unfocused, glowing faintly.

“Gryphus' talons!” Laela exclaimed, using the Southern curse without meaning to. “Oeka! What in the gods' names—?”

Oeka's beak opened slightly, but no sound came out.
I have returned,
the voice said in Laela's head—Oeka's voice, she realised suddenly. Only now it was slow and rich, not a griffin's voice but . . . something else.

“Oeka!” Laela said again. “I thought—are yeh all right? What have yeh been doin' all this time?”

The eyes stared blindly, straight ahead.
I am transformed. You cannot comprehend the powers I carry.

Senneck had stayed in a defensive hunch since the smaller griffin had appeared, but now she uncoiled and came closer, sniffing. “You are Oeka?” she looked sharply at Laela. “Is this the griffin who chose you, half-breed?”

“Yeah.” Laela mumbled, not looking at Senneck.

Senneck had transferred her gaze back to Oeka. “I sensed the magic under my talons when I arrived. Now I know it was you, little one. What have you done?”

Oeka didn't answer. Light and shadows shifted on her face, making it look as if she were leering.

“She went to some place,” Laela said. “Wouldn't say where, but she said she got more magic somehow.”

Senneck's hackles rose. “Fool!” she screeched at Oeka. “What have you done? You have tried to expand your magic! You sought out a place of power, I know it. Did your mother never tell you what would happen to you?”

I have taken what was there for my use,
Oeka answered coolly.
If you are too weak to do the same, then so be it.

“You are not strong enough for this,” said Senneck. “I can sense the energies you are trying to contain. You will not contain them for long. They will destroy you.”

No.
Oeka's head rose sharply.
I have contained them. They are mine now. I have absorbed them into my mind. You cannot hide a single thought from me, Senneck. I know your past, and I know your intentions.
She stretched her neck, and her beak jerked up and down in a parody of scenting.
I see a day when the sky turned dark and a ring of fire burned above you. I see a white griffin fall from the sky. I see you on the ground, spreading your wings over a dead human as you say his name and know your end. I see years of despair, and a twisted creature that is neither man nor griffin. This one is large in your mind . . .

If Senneck was affected by this, she didn't show it. “You think you are a mighty magic-user, but you are nothing but an overgrown chick. Your foolery will be the end of you, one way or the other. It does not matter if you believe me or not; this old griffin shall live to see your death.”

Oeka's head turned blindly toward Laela.
The old one will not betray you. She will go with Kullervo and do what she can to help him. She is full of hatred, but she is more patient than she seems.

Laela rubbed her face with both hands. When she uncovered it again, it had assumed a patient, stolid expression. “Fine. Whatever. I got it. Senneck, yeh can go with Kullervo if he says yes.”

The shape-shifter will do as you have asked him,
was all Oeka said.
He loves you.

Laela reddened. “So yeh can sense all that now? What'm I thinkin' now, then?”

You are uncomfortable, but you accept what you see,
said Oeka.
You think that this is beyond you and that you can do nothing but believe what you are told.

“Yeah, well, what would a human know?” said Laela. “Are yeh gonna stay with me now, then?”

Yes. I am done with my work. For now.

“Good. Well . . . let's go get some rest, then.”

“I will go and speak with Kullervo,” said Senneck. She stalked out of the room, very dignified. As she passed Oeka, she hissed to her. “Beware. You have already blinded yourself. What part of yourself will you lose next?”

Oeka ignored her.
Laela. I am sorry that I have been away for so long. Now I am back, and I can be at your side again.

Laela drew back, trying not to look at the glassy eyes and sagging jaw. “I don't like this, Oeka. Yeh don't look right. An' what if yeh kill yerself, like Senneck said?”

Oeka's feathers fluffed out angrily.
The old hen knows nothing. I am more powerful now than she can possibly imagine.

“Yeh said,” Laela growled. “Fine then. I ain't gonna pretend I understand any of it. But yeh ain't gonna do that again, understand? No flyin' off, an' no lockin' yerself away. From now on, yeh tell me everythin'. Not a day later, not twenty years later,
now
. When yeh know it, yeh tell me. No more doin' whatever yeh feel like without a word to me. I ain't gonna stand for it, got that? I'm the Queen here, an' it's about time I got some soddin' respect.”

Oeka's eyes didn't turn to look at her, but her head jerked in Laela's direction.
I understand. I will not keep important things from you again. There will be no need.

“There better not be. Now”—Laela softened—“do yeh need some food?”

I do not eat any more.
Oeka put her head on one side.
But perhaps I will try.

“I'll take that as a yes.”

Laela had some meat brought up. Oeka gulped it down, awkwardly, as if she had forgotten how. She gagged a little after it had gone down.

“Are yeh all right?” Laela asked.

The small griffin lifted a talon and rubbed it down the side of her beak.
The meat had no flavour . . .

“Bad cut, maybe?”

No.
Oeka's beak opened wider, tongue arching.
I cannot taste.

Laela swore. “Oeka, this ain't right. Blinded, not able to taste—can yeh hear any more, or are yeh just hearing my mind?”

It does not matter. Those senses were crude things, useless compared to all I feel now. The world is open to me.
There was ecstasy in Oeka's mental voice.
At last, I can truly see.

“If yeh say so,” said Laela.

K
ullervo had been provided with quarters intended for visiting griffiners. They were only modestly furnished by griffiner standards, but to him they looked wonderfully luxurious. Solid spice-wood furniture, a big feather bed, and a rug made from the hides of the same Northern-bred sheep whose long black wool had once been used to make the hated slave robes. In this form, it was thick and soft and had been placed in front of the fire-place, where there was a good fire going. Kullervo ignored the wine that had been laid out for him—he had never tried drink—and stretched out on the rug.

Delicious warmth covered him like a blanket, and he yawned and stretched. Instinctively he rolled over onto his side, curling up like a sun-bathing griffin. His bald wings twitched away from the hearth, and he yawned again and curled his tail around himself. It was an ugly thing, without fur or feathers, all pink like a rat's. The tip flicked from side to side, catlike, tapping against his side.

Kullervo dozed and had a half-formed dream of gentle hands holding him up.

He woke up feeling happy and drowsy. Something was touching his leg. He opened his eyes a crack and saw something dark in front of his face. It was rough and pitted, curving away from him, and he looked at it for a while before he realised it was a talon.

I've split in half at last,
he thought dopily.
My griffin shape is lying next to me.

The thing touching his leg moved, and he opened his eyes properly and realised that there really was a griffin lying beside him.

Senneck.

From here, her flank was a sandy-feathered mountain looming above him.

Kullervo smiled sleepily. “Good morning.”

“It is not morning,” came her reply.

Kullervo said nothing. He yawned and rolled his head back so that his neck cracked pleasantly. Senneck was lying on her belly, partly rolled onto one side, with her legs curled in and her wings draped lazily over her flanks. Her head was raised, watching him.

Kullervo remembered that he was naked, but he didn't feel embarrassed. Griffins didn't care about that sort of thing, and why should they?

“How long have you been here?” he asked, not getting up.

“I came to see you but found you asleep,” she said. “I rested while I waited for you to wake. It was not so long.”

Kullervo rolled onto his front. “You've never seen me in this shape before, have you? Well . . . here I am, I suppose. This is as human as I get.”

She blinked slowly. “You have not lost your wings.”

“Not my tail either. I can't grow new bones. If I lost a wing, it would never come back.”

“Then how do you change?”

“My bones . . . change inside me. Make new shapes. I don't really know how it works, but I can feel them doing it. It's very painful,” Kullervo added matter-of-factly.

Senneck cocked her head. “Interesting. The half-breed says that she has given you another task.”

“Yes, just to carry a message.”

“I already know what the message will be and who it will go to,” said Senneck. “I have decided to go with you.”

Kullervo blinked. “Really? Why?”

“It will be better than staying here to rot. And I wish to see my enemy again and remember her scent.”

“I'd like you to come,” said Kullervo. “It'll be better than travelling alone. And if there's trouble, two of us would be better than just me.”

“You are right. We must leave soon.”

“Agreed. I just need some time—I have to become the griffin again so I can fly there.”

Senneck tilted her head forward. “When shall you do that?”

“Er . . . now, maybe. I feel strong enough.”

“I do not understand how you can use magic in that form,” said Senneck. “Does your magic gland stay with your wings and tail?”

“I think so. I can't use it the way I do when I'm a griffin, though.” Kullervo sat up, cross-legged. “When I'm human, it's much harder to control. I can't just concentrate and make it happen.”

“Then how do you activate your magic?”

“Sometimes, I do it by accident,” said Kullervo. “If I feel threatened or very angry. When I
want
it to happen, I think of something that makes me upset. My body reacts, to try to protect me by making itself stronger. Growing talons and claws, that sort of thing.”

“Shaaaaeeee . . .”
Senneck hissed, but without aggression. “So you shall do this now?”

“Yes, I think I will. Might as well.”

There was an awkward silence. Senneck stayed where she was and watched Kullervo. He sat and looked back uncomfortably.

“It's not a nice thing to see,” he said eventually. “I always do it in secret.”

“Do it now.” Senneck got up, sitting on her haunches. “I will watch.”

“It's really not nice,” said Kullervo. “Nobody's ever seen me change. Well . . . some people did see me once, when it happened by accident. They were terrified.”

“I am not so easily frightened,” said Senneck. “Make the change. I am curious.”

Her lack of trepidation made Kullervo feel unexpectedly pleased. He was almost flattered. “All right, then. Just—don't touch me. And don't let anyone else come in, no matter what happens.”

“Very well.” Senneck moved back a way and settled down attentively.

Kullervo looked away from her, toward the ground, and closed his eyes. Memories bubbled to the surface, and he focused on them, letting old voices fill his ears.

Faces staring, staring, always staring. Some afraid, some openly revolted. The worst were the ones who showed pity. It was always guarded pity, tainted with contempt.

What is that? That thing, what is that thing, what is it? Gryphus' talons, it's so hideous! What is that thing? Don't touch it—That thing, thing, thing, thing . . .

Pain and misery hardened in Kullervo's stomach. His fists clenched, remembering times when they had beat against things—walls, faces, himself, tearing at the twisted wings that thrust out of his back.
Freak! Freak!

Anger coursed through his system, hot and vital. Somewhere deep inside him, it touched some hidden switch. Instantly, pain spiked over his skin as the feathers began to sprout.

The change took hold.

A little way away, Senneck started slightly. She had seen Kullervo go still, apparently concentrating, and had noted it when he began to breathe harder, his face twitching the way human faces did when they were distressed in some way. Still, nothing seemed to be happening.

Then he went rigid, in a way that looked very familiar to Senneck. His mouth opened, and she braced herself, expecting to see the magic come forth. But none did. He only gasped, and hunched slightly. For a moment, it looked as if nothing else were going to happen, until she saw the little spines appearing all over his skin. They thickened, and grew longer, and opened out into feathers. Fur sprouted, too. Kullervo didn't react much at all, and Senneck began to think that he had been lying when he had said the process was painful.

At least, she thought that until she heard the first crack, then the ominous creaking and sinewy tearing noises that came from somewhere inside him. She looked on, revolted, as his form began to pull itself out of shape, and the vile noises grew louder. Kullervo threw his head back and let out an unearthly howl.

Senneck made no move to help him. Nor did she look away. She stayed just where she was through the entire process and did not look away until the last vicious breaking sound had died away.

Kullervo lay unconscious in his griffin form. Senneck did move closer then, to sniff at his wing. He had the rough, musky scent of a mature male griffin. She huffed her surprise. He was small, and odd-looking, but he was still a griffin—a real one. Not an illusion or a false shape, but a true griffin.

“Then you do have the blood of a griffin in you,” she said aloud. “You are a true hybrid as you claimed . . . how can this be?”

She wondered how much of his story he had really told her and how much he had kept back. But she determined to find out. There would be time on the journey, and she would see how much of a true griffin he was.

K
ullervo took a day to recover from the change, and, when he was ready, he went to see Laela. He caught up to her in the council chamber, with Oeka back at her side.

Kullervo faltered at the sight of the small griffin. Her eyes were glassy, and the eyelids drooped, making her look tired and ill. But there was nothing sluggish about the way she moved when she came down off the platform and swaggered up to him.
You taste of disgust,
an unearthly voice said.

Kullervo took a step backward. “Oeka? What's wrong with you?”

I have taken what is rightfully mine.
Her beak lowered, putting her forehead closer to him, and she tensed.

Kullervo felt something push at him, inside. His head ached, and he shook it dazedly. “Stop that!”

Oeka gave an unformed, ugly hiss.
You cannot hide from me forever, freak. I will find what lurks in your mind and tear it free, one way or the other!

“That's enough, Oeka.” Laela's voice interrupted. “Leave him alone unless yeh want to carry this thing yerself.”

Kullervo moved away from the blind griffin and looked at Laela. “What is this? What happened to her eyes?”

“Don't ask,” Laela said shortly. “Now, are yeh ready to go? Is that why yer here?”

“Yes. Senneck and I are going together.”

“Thought so. Here it is, then.” Laela held up a wooden tube whose ends were covered in wax. Long leather straps dangled from it. “This is a message-holder. Got the scroll inside, see? I'll tie it on yer back, between yer wings, where it'll be safe. Pull it off when yeh get to Saeddryn an' put it in her hands. No-one else should be able to get at it.”

“Clever. Should I crouch so you can put it on me?”

“Don't worry about it; yer too short to worry about that.” Laela came over and attached the message-holder, buckling the straps around his wings and under his belly. “How's that feel?”

Kullervo tested his wings. “The straps chafe a bit.”

“Got it.” Laela loosened them. “That better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Great.” Laela nodded in satisfaction. “Got the idea from the Amorani messenger dragons an' had it made special. It's a good fit.”

“I need a map now,” said Kullervo.

Laela produced one and held it up for him. “This trip oughta be simple. Here's Malvern, right here. See the river? That's the River Nive. Follow it south till yeh find the spot where the two rivers meet. The other river's called the River Snow. Follow that one north an' keep goin'. I ain't sure how far it is, but Warwick's right by the river. Here, I got a picture of it.”

The picture was surprisingly vivid, painted on a piece of fine sheepskin. It showed a city, as seen at a distance from the air. The walls around it were tall and forbidding, made from dark stone, and, at the centre, the griffiner tower looked like the limbless trunk of a burned tree.

“Good, ain't it?” said Laela. “It was done by some griffiner. Don't know his name, but they called him the Master of Art for a joke.”

“He was very talented,” said Kullervo. “So this is Warwick?”

“Yeah. I ain't seen it myself, but I showed it to Iorwerth an' he says the Master of Art got it right. Kaanee agrees.”

Kullervo studied the painting, doing his best to memorise the details. “I think I can remember this.”

“Shouldn't be hard,” said Laela. “Now, the map. I was thinkin' maybe I'd put it under the strap on yer back. Senneck can pull it out for yeh if yeh need it.”

“That could work.”

After several attempts, Laela managed to secure the rolled-up map. Oeka stood by in silence. It was hard to say if she was aware of what was going on—those dead eyes couldn't watch anything, but maybe she was using some other sense to see what her human was doing. Laela and Kullervo both kept a careful distance from her and pretended there was nothing unusual in the room.

“There, all ready!” Laela said eventually. “Where's Senneck?”

“Waiting for me at the top of the tower. She said to tell you, ‘Do not worry, your pet shape-changer is safe with me.'”

“She's such a charmer, ain't she?” Laela rolled her eyes.

“It's just her way. I don't mind.”

Laela put her head on one side. “Yeh really do trust her, don't yeh?”

“I do.”

“Why? Yeh know what she is.”

“It's because I know what she is,” said Kullervo. “A sad, lonely griffin who only just found a reason to live again.”

“Don't be fooled, Kullervo,” Laela said. “If she still had her human an' all the power she had before, she'd have killed the both of us by now.”

“I don't believe that, Laela.”

“Believe what yeh like, then. But watch yer back.” Laela hugged him. “Be careful. Don't get yerself lost again, all right? Come back quick, for my sake.”

Kullervo rubbed his head against her. “I will. I promise.”

She let go of him. “Get going, then. Do me proud.”

Kullervo kept his eyes on her, saying nothing. When the atmosphere became uncomfortable, he quickly transferred his gaze to the floor.

“What is it?” Laela asked.

Kullervo looked up again. “Laela, I should tell you something.”

“What?”

He scratched at the floor, neck arched and bristling defensively. “I should have told you before, but I was afraid.”

“Tell me now, then,” said Laela. She had tensed.

“I—” Kullervo began, and stopped.

Oeka pushed in.
Tell her now or be gone, you deformed freak of nature.

At that, Kullervo did something nobody would have expected. He reared up, opening his wings wide, and hissed.