The Shadowed Throne (26 page)

His fingers spread wide and rigid, and something moved under the skin. Something cracked, and Kullervo bellowed.

Long, sharp spikes curved out of his fingertips, right before Morvudd's eyes. They thickened, and darkened, spreading upward to cover the last joint of each finger.

Morvudd gaped and grinned disbelievingly. Forgetting the guards, she moved away from the door and snatched up her notepad again. Keeping a safe distance from the table and the contorted shape on it, she began to sketch frantically.

As the talons grew, the skin on Kullervo's hands thickened and cracked, turning into scales. On his back, feathers sprouted from his wings, and his tail and backside darkened with fur.

That was all. Morvudd frowned, waiting for more to happen, but it didn't.

Transformation was only partial,
she scribbled down.
Perhaps his distress or weakened state interrupted it in some way. Fur sprouted on—

Caught up in her recording, she had taken her attention away from Kullervo.

He panted and groaned. The changing had made him grit the remains of his teeth, and now his mouth tasted of fresh blood. But—

His fingers flexed, and he felt the stiffness at their ends. Felt the scrape on the wood.
Talons!

Kullervo hissed. He brought his arm up, drawing it through the rope until he could grip it. His talons caught in the fibre, and he began to work them back and forth, faster and faster. He didn't even check to see if Morvudd was looking.

She noticed eventually. “Stop that! Guards! G—”

The rope snapped. Stupidly, Morvudd started forward to try to stop him. Kullervo twisted, turned, and wrapped his talons around her neck.

“Help!
Help me!
”

The door burst open, and guards came running.

“Drop her!” one roared.

Kullervo snarled, blood turning his mouth into a dripping wound. “No. Take the ropes off, or she dies.”

The guards hesitated, and his grip tightened on Morvudd's throat.

“Do it!” she gasped. “Do it now!”

Kullervo felt the ropes fall away, and he sighed, very softly. “Good.” Still holding Morvudd, he sat up.

Her eyes met his; they had begun to go red. “Please, let me go. You don't want to hurt me, Kullervo. You're not a monster.”

Kullervo rasped a laugh. “You said I was a creature. I wanted to be a man, but if I can't, then I must be a beast.” He dragged her toward the door, using her to shield himself from the guards. When one came too close, he lashed out and tore the man's face with his talons.

In the corridor outside, more guards were coming. Too many. Kullervo pressed himself against a wall, holding Morvudd in front of him.

“Give up,” she said. “Give up now, or they'll kill you.”

They were closing in, blocking the way to his left. That only left the right.

With a quick, brutal blow, Kullervo slashed Morvudd's throat wide open. He hurled her body at the guards, turned right, and ran.

S
enneck stayed at the back of the flock, as the unpartnered flew toward Warwick. It was humiliating. She had imagined herself at the front, flying proudly with all the lesser griffins patiently behind her. She had imagined her return to Warwick as
her
journey, not theirs.
Her
fight. Not theirs.

But the unpartnered were many, and nearly all of them were younger and faster fliers than her. Senneck fumed. Outstripped and left behind, forced to fly at the back by these hatchlings who knew nothing! Hadn't it been her who had lived through the war? Her who flew over the sea to the Island of the Sun, pregnant and carrying a human on her back? How many of
these
youngsters had ever seen real fighting?

Senneck found herself hating them, and she promised herself that when she reached Warwick, she would kill any of them who got in her way when she went to find Saeddryn. That, at least, would be something reserved for her alone.

Snow had started to drift down now, and despite her resentment, flying at the back of the flock almost certainly saved Senneck's life. The unpartnered split up when they reached Warwick, flying in over the walls from all directions at once. Even so, the defenders spotted them well before they arrived, and they were ready. The giant bows on the walls were completed and ready, and they did their work.

Senneck saw the unpartnered ahead of her rush over the city walls, and she saw them begin to fall. Dozens of griffins, impaled by spears, spiralling down among the snowflakes onto the roofs of the city. Some of them, injured, fluttered and screamed before they joined their fellows. The outcome was always the same.

The survivors flew higher, trying to stay out of range, but, in the end, it was mostly their sheer numbers that saved them. The humans using the giant bows turned them this way and that, aiming for any griffins foolish enough to be flying close together.

Senneck hung back, truly frightened now. She had never seen a weapon that could bring down a griffin like this, so fast and so easily. The unpartnered were being decimated.

Some, though, had more sense. Kaanee had made it past the walls, but he went no further. He circled back, drawing himself in as if to call.

Instead, what came out of his beak was magic. A thin beam of silvery light hit the wall-top, slicing clean through the stones. When it touched one of the horrible weapons, it fell apart with a crack and a scream from the guards loading it. Kaanee, showing astonishing control, directed his magic toward others, destroying them one by one. Eventually, his magic faltered, and he flew away to lead the assault on the tower, but he had cleared a good portion of the wall. Senneck flew over the gap and joined the battle.

The griffins of Warwick had risen out of the tower. Riderless, they rushed to attack the invaders.

Senneck had gone barely any distance when a griffin flew straight at her, screaming a challenge.

She didn't screech back, or change her direction, but flew on as if nothing had happened. The other griffin, apparently thinking it would be an easy fight, curled his body inward, ready to latch onto her the moment they met.

But Senneck hadn't survived as long as she had for nothing. At the very last instant, she flicked a wing and rolled out of the griffin's path. He shot past her, flailing clumsily as he tried to turn back. Senneck had been ready for that. She angled her wings and executed a spectacular back-flip. More by luck than judgment, she hit her attacker square in the head with her hind paws. She felt her claws catch on something, and kicked away from him as hard as she could.

Fighting in midair was extremely dangerous, so rather than try to engage him again, she flew away and upward, struggling for more height. In situations like these, height was almost always the advantage.

She didn't have to look back to know the male was chasing her.

There were other fights going on, all around her—she caught a few brief glimpses as she ascended. All around, griffins wheeling and tearing at each other, filling the air with screams and screeches. Below, the roofs of Warwick were already littered with broken corpses among the gathering snow.

Senneck turned when she was high enough and saw the male griffin rising to meet her. One side of his face streamed blood, but if anything, he looked even more savage for it.
“You will die!”

Senneck didn't waste her energy on threats. She hovered, fluttering rapidly to stay in one place, and extended her talons.

The male came on. Stupidly, he chose to attack her from underneath. His beak hooked into her belly, right where she was most vulnerable, and he slackened his wings and let himself fall, putting all his weight into tearing her bowels open.

An instant before he dropped Senneck's talons sank into his neck, just behind his jaw. She twisted sideways, hard. His beak lifted out of her skin, then he was thrashing, beating his wings in her face, lashing out blindly with his talons.

His own struggles killed him. Dragged upward by his weight, Senneck's talons pulled through his flesh, into the soft spot just under his beak. When they hit the underside of his lower jaw, she pulled them free.

The male fought to stay in the air, but not for long. Senneck flew out of his reach and saw him weaken and falter. Then he fell, trailing red droplets that followed him to the earth like rain.

Senneck didn't stay to watch him hit the ground. She flew in a wide circle, trying to get her bearings. Her wound smarted horribly.

Over the city, it was chaos. Griffins were everywhere, both unpartnered and Warwickan. Below, she could see more fighting in the streets. Unpartnered they might have been, but her comrades had brought humans with them. A handful of griffiners had come along, and some of the unpartnered had agreed to carry human soldiers with them. Humans could go places a griffin couldn't, and they were good for healing injuries.

Senneck huffed satisfaction. Ignoring the enemies in the sky, she made straight for the tower. Those petty fights could wait.

Evading a half-grown female who tried to intercept her, she landed on the tower-top and took shelter in the opening leading inside. From there she scanned the sky quickly, watching for a griffin who could be Aenae. There wasn't much chance of that; there were far too many others flying all over the place to pick out a single one.

She would have to take a risk, then. Surely, Aenae would be there fighting to protect his territory. If not, then he would be with his human, protecting her. He couldn't do both. Ultimately, it came down to whatever he chose: the honour of fighting or simple good sense.

Senneck would take her chances.

She turned and went into the tower. Inside, it was unnaturally quiet; every griffin that lived there must have gone to fight.

But not every human.

Senneck reached the bottom of the ramp, turned a corner, and nearly walked into something blocking the corridor. Bloody feathers thrust into her face, a dead eye stared. She backed away, hissing, and something hit her in the side.

A human appeared from an entrance in the wall, spear thrusting into her. Two more came out from behind the dead griffin, two more spears came for her head.

Senneck lurched backward, rearing up instinctively. The spear fell away from her flank, and she lashed out with a forepaw, crushing that human against the wall. The others stayed where they were, using the dead griffin for cover. One threw his spear. It was aimed at her chest, but her paw came in the way, and the point sank into it.

Senneck screamed. Falling back with a wing shielding her head, she bit at the wooden shaft. The point came free, but blood and skin came with it. Maddened, she charged at them. She hit the dead griffin, knocking it forward. It rolled over, throwing the two humans off balance. Senneck leapt over the corpse and killed one with a blow of her beak. The other one fled, but she chased him and cut him down from behind.

The silence that followed felt crushing.

Senneck's sides heaved. She stood for a moment with her injured paw raised, and felt sweat and blood trickle down her flank. Her tongue burned with the taste of killing.

“Kraaaaa . . .”

She felt her heart pound, and shook herself. Only four kills, three of them humans, and she was already tired. But oh how alive she felt at last!

Where a human would have laughed, Senneck snapped her beak hard and bounded away. Searching for revenge.

A
rddryn had been the one to warn her mother about the unpartnered.

She and Rakek had stayed the night, and left at dawn the next day, without a goodbye from Saeddryn. But the sun was barely up before they returned, running to the rebel council with a terrified story of seeing a massive flock of griffins coming from the south. Rakek said that they had odd red marks on their feathers, and that he had seen a strong-looking male at their head, with a human on his back.

Saeddryn had known instantly that it had to be Kaanee. Kaanee, and the unpartnered. Her guess had been right. Oeka's newfound power had been enough to bring them back into action, and Warwick was in dire trouble. Their only luck was that they had plenty of warning now, and time to prepare everything. Saeddryn had called her council together—all except for Morvudd, who had vanished somewhere—and gave her orders.

Arddryn hovered nearby, her face twisted with anxiety.

“—an' everythin' else we worked out before,” Saeddryn finished. “Hurry up. And for shadow's sake, someone find Morvudd!” As always in moments of stress, her old, rough accent leaked out in her voice.

“I should go,” Arddryn said when the councillors had left. “Leave Warwick.” But she cast a questioning look at her mother.

Saeddryn hesitated. “No. Stay. There's probably no time; ye don't want t'be caught out in the open all on yer own. We need all the help we can get, too. 'Sides, it's time ye learnt by doin'. Stay close by me, don't leave Aenae or me,
ever
. Keep Rakek close.” She jabbed a finger at Arddryn. “I mean it.
Keep him close.
This lot comin' aren't here t'take prisoners, understand?”

“I know that!” Arddryn snapped, fear making her angrier than she should have been.

“I said
do ye understand?
” said Saeddryn. “This ain't going to be play-fightin', it's going t'be real. In a fight, a griffiner who leaves her griffin is dead.”

Rakek came closer, standing over his human so that she was standing between his forelegs, just under his chest. “Do not be afraid. I shall not let you be hurt.”

“I trust you,” said Arddryn. “You, too, Mother.”

Saeddryn softened. “Good. Have ye got yer sickle?”

“Yes. I think I can do this . . .”

“Ye can. Arddryn, ye can. Yer a Taranisäii.”

“I know,” Arddryn said rather gloomily.

“Oh . . .” Saeddryn gave her a hug. “I've been hard on ye, girl, too hard. I'm sorry for that. All I wanted is t'see ye be all ye were meant to be. I believe that's what ye have become, an' I'm proud of ye, Arddryn. Prouder than I can say.”

Arddryn hugged her back. “I know. I do my best.”

“Good!” Saeddryn let go. “Now all we have to do is stick together an' see this day through as best we can! An' knowin' who we are, our best will be great.”

“I'm sure it will be.” Arddryn offered up a weak smile.

It was fine bravado, but bravado was all it was. Both of them knew just how dangerous this day was going to be.

A
rddryn stayed with her mother as she supervised the defences, issuing orders left and right. This was the first time she had seen her do something like this. It was almost bewildering.

In all Arddryn's life, her mother had been many things—a griffiner, a priestess—a mother, of course—but now she admitted to herself that, at bottom, she had always thought of Saeddryn as mostly just an old woman.

In her more bitter moments, she had sometimes wondered just how much her mother had done to win the war. Someone so cranky and dried-up couldn't possibly be a
real
warrior. People probably just respected her because she was the King's cousin, and
he
was just a creepy drunk. It was all nonsense.

Now, though . . .

“Block all the ways in an' out of the tower. Yes, all of them. I want men with spears at every door, an' make sure they know how t'use them. Nerth—where's Nerth? Get him over here
right now
. Aenae, can ye go talk to the griffins? Just make sure they all know the plan.”

Nerth appeared. He was even older than Saeddryn and had an ugly, wrinkled face. “What's the plan for me, Saeth?”

“There ye are.” Saeddryn put a hand on his shoulder. “Arddryn an' me are gonna be in the council chamber for this. I want ye with us.”

“Oh, that's it, is it?” Nerth thumped his stick on the floor. “Yer gonna make me sit this one out, eh? Think old Nerth can't take a fight no more, eh?”

Saeddryn laughed. “Don't be daft. I need ye with me, Nerth. My best warrior has t'be there to guard me an' my daughter.”

“Right.” He cackled. “Don't worry, I won't let ye down.”

“I know ye won't. Get some men together; we need the doors barricaded.” Saeddryn sighed. “It's a cruel thing, but me an' Arddryn have to live through this.”

“I want to fight,” Arddryn put in suddenly.

The two elders ignored her.

“The Taranisäiis must survive,” Nerth said solemnly. “I'd die to make certain of it.”

“Do not argue with them,” Rakek said aside to Arddryn. “I, too, would choose to fight, but we must please them for now. Our time will come.”

Grumbling, Arddryn let herself be led into the council chamber. Frightened servants brought in food and blankets, while others carried in heavy objects and stacked them up on the inside of the doors, leaving just one still open. Saeddryn helped, dragging benches over to the one remaining door, where they would be ready to put in place when the time came.