《Gryphon's Flight》


 Chapter 1

    Even at night, the ship was never silent. The wooden planks creaked and groaned, as the bitter cold winds filled the sails, pushing the ship onwards through the void. Crewmen worked at their tasks, the reasons a mystery to Erin, even after almost three full months of travel where she had been watching them.


    Old man Uric, swaddled in the protective sheepskin vest against the cold, endlessly coiling and uncoiling thick rope. Looping this length, and untying that length, before retying it elsewhere. It had no noticeable effect on anything that Erin could see, but he did it, constantly. Endlessly. Day or night, no matter the shift he was on, it seemed to be his task to coil those ropes.


    Then there was Henrye, boisterous and loud with a laugh that was infectious. He climbed the rigging, first up, and then down. Erin had no idea what he did at the top of his climb, but the ships officers had no complaints about his work.


    Or at least none that she had noticed.


    Her eyes drifted across to the main mast, as thick around as two men, and taller than any of the trees back home. He hung there still, his back crisscrossed by the crimson lines drawn by Mark Letterford, with the leather whip he kept coiled on his belt.


    Yes, if the ships officers were displeased, they were not shy in showing it.


    ¡°Stop your wool-gathering, girl.¡±


    Erin turned to look back over her shoulder at Geoffrey. He was old, or at least he was to her, his skin weathered by years in the sun. His body was lean, his height barely more than her own, which was a preference for those in his profession. A profession, she dreamt of joining.


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°No need for sorry, just finish your work.¡±


    She nodded and turned back to the leather harness in her hands, running the straps through her fingers as she searched for weakness or wear. It was a tedious task, but one that was important, and a mistake could well cost a life.


    Geoffrey was not a bad master to serve as an apprentice. He was not unkind, and he offered praise when it was warranted, but he was not shy with the belt when it was needed either. A fact that Erin knew all too well.


    With the orange glow from the lamps set along the ships rail, and the silver light of the moon and stars in the clear sky above, it was not hard to see the leather in her hands. Not that she had need of it, she had run her fingers across every inch of that harness more times she could count and could have accomplished her task blindfolded.


    Not that she would, she thought, a little guiltily. It was too important not to give it her full attention.


    A quick glance back at Geoffrey whose attention had returned to his own task, and she exhaled a soft sigh. It felt like forever since they had boarded the ship, to travel to the furthest edge of the void. A journey she had expected to be full of excitement and adventure but had instead been quite tedious.


    Voices caught her attention, and she looked over to the stairs that led down belowdecks. Two figures climbed into view. The woman was beautiful, wearing a thick fur cloak over the soft, blue, velvet robe of her office. Her face, usually relaxed and quick to smile, was sombre as she crossed to the rail.


    Sheathed on her belt, in easy reach of her hand, was a carved wooden rod. Polished smooth by years of use, it was dull and lifeless and would remain so until she placed a hand upon it. She spoke softly to her companion, who listened intently, his head bowed and tilted towards her.


    He was close in age to Erin¡¯s seventeen years, and like her, an apprentice. His wool robes were grey, signifying his status. Once he chose an order to join, at his apprenticeships end, he would wear their colour. She had heard that some wore an indication of their chosen order about their person, but as hard as she looked, she could not see it.


    Like the woman, he wore a sheathed wooden rod on his belt, though his was newer, the carving rough. A tool made by an apprentice that would be replaced once he moved to the next stage in his profession.


    He pulled his woollen cloak closer and nodded to something the woman said. She raised a hand and pointed, off to starboard, and he followed where she pointed with his gaze. His hand reached for the rod on his belt, fingers closing around it and Erin gasped, as lights appeared along its length.


    Strings of runes running around its length. A language she could not recognise, nor read, yet still filled her with curiosity, drawing her in as though understanding was just on the edge of her mind.


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    The apprentice pulled free the wand and pointed it out across the void. He spoke a string of words, one of the glowing runes winking out with each word spoken, and a bright, white, light leapt from the tip of the wand and out across the dark void.


    ¡°You¡¯ll not say you weren¡¯t warned, girl,¡± Geoffrey said, and with a start, Erin realised she had been staring at the two wizards, open-mouthed, and ignoring her work. ¡°Go in and fetch my belt.¡±


    With a shiver at the thought of what was to come, Erin set aside the harness and rose from where she¡¯d been sitting in the corner. He was a good man, really, and she knew he wouldn¡¯t go too hard with the belt, though he¡¯d not hold back either.


    She reached for the handle of the door she¡¯d been leaning against and stopped as a cry went up. She spun, as Geoffrey cursed, rising from his seat and staring out across the ships rail.


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Shrike,¡± Geoffrey muttered. ¡°Maybe, Cloudrays.¡±


    Men were running, and a bell rang out as a crewman sounded the alarm. The two wizards had their heads together, talking rapidly. The doors to the belowdecks burst open and men rushed out, short swords and cutlasses in hand for most, while a few carried long muskets.


    ¡°Fools,¡± Geoffrey said, shaking his head. He turned back to Erin, face showing concern. ¡°In and hide, girl. But first, pass me my sword.¡±


    Erin nodded, numbly, and pulled open the door. A wave of musky odour washed over her, strong and animalistic, which she ignored as she stepped into the darkness. A bulky shape moved in the far corner of the room, a body shifting, a head being raised.


    She could feel eyes upon her as she reached for the equipment rack and pulled free the longsword resting there. Erin looked over at the shape in the darkness. ¡°Not yet,¡± she whispered. ¡°You stay here.¡±


    A whuff of hot air was the only answer she got, and she hurried back out to the deck where Geoffrey was waiting.


    He took the sword from her without a glance, his attention fixed on the open air beyond the railing. Striding away, he drew the blade, casting aside the sheath as he made his way to the centre of the desk, ensuring there was space enough around him to swing.


    Erin turned back to the door and stopped. She¡¯d heard of Shrike, and Cloudrays, but had never seen one and surely, she reasoned, she could get a glimpse before ducking back inside to the safety of their quarters.


    Crewmen were lined up against the rail, muskets raised. An officer had appeared, standing on the raised stern deck, pistol in one hand and sword the other. Another joined him, and a third went to stand amongst the gathered men below.


    The captain was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Stand back, lads!¡± Old Man Uric called, waving back the waiting men. ¡°Give the marksmen room.¡±


    ¡°Henri, Marc, get your arses below,¡± Officer Letterford shouted, waving back two men climbing the stairs. ¡°Lock those damned doors!¡±


    Why? Erin wondered, staring. Why have so many others on deck and then tell more to stay below. Another mystery she was sure no one would bother to explain to her.


    She gripped the ships rail in her hand, feeling the rough wood as she leaned out. One glance down was all it took for her to grip that rail even tighter, her knuckles whitening with it as nausea climbed to her throat, threatening to spill out.


    It was always the same, no matter how many times she looked over the side and down, staring at the empty void beneath the ship that seemed to go on forever, disappearing into darkness that seemed to call to her, whispered words on the edge of hearing, coaxing her, urging her to jump, to fall free and be embraced.


    Erin shuddered and wrenched her gaze away, staring back out towards where the bright white light hung in the empty sky.


    Or what had been empty.


    Hundreds of creatures filled it, wings outstretched, gliding on the winds as they flew unerringly towards the ship. Thunder roared as a dozen muskets were fired at the same time, a cloud of noxious smoke blowing back over the crew, obscuring their view as the marksmen reloaded.


    None of the approaching creatures fell, and Erin¡¯s curiosity turned to fear.


    There were too many of them, filling the night sky, a swarm larger than anything she could have imagined. She let go of the rail, backing away, as the marksmen fired a second time.


    Then they hit the ship, crashing over it like a wave on the rocks.


    Men screamed!


    The shrill cry of the Shrike drowned out of their voices as the razor-sharp claws and teeth tore at exposed skin.


    Geoffrey stood on the centre deck, his sword swinging in wide arcs as it cut through air and leathery bodies alike. There was no aiming, no careful swings; there was no need. The air was filled with them.


    Fire burst from the wand of the young wizard, aimed out and away from the ship, catching dozens of the cat sized creatures and sending them falling from the sky, bodies burning and trailing smoke.


    The man tied to the mast was screaming as his body was covered with the creatures, crawling all over him, biting and tearing at his flesh, their flat snouts covered with blood, as beadlike eyes glittered in the glow of the lamps.


    Erin ran.


    Her hand was on the door handle and pulling as something heavy hit her back. She fell to the deck, screaming as claws raked her bare neck. She twisted, and rolled onto her back, crushing the creature against the deck beneath her body.


    She screamed again as another flew directly at her, maw open revealing needle like teeth. She raised her arms to cover her face and then gasped, as something big, and powerful, burst through the open door and caught the shrike in its beak.


    Two quick crunches and the gryphon threw back its head, swallowing the Shrikes broken body whole.


    ¡°Brightcrest!¡± Erin breathed, eyes wide.


    The gryphon huffed and unfurled its wings, the lion like hind legs bunching as it prepared to leap. Erin¡¯s heart hammered in her chest as she realised too late what it was about to do.


    ¡°No!¡± she cried, leaping up and reaching for the leather collar just visible beneath the feathers of his neck.


    With a shriek, she held on for dear life as the gryphon leapt into the air, eager to join battle.

 Chapter 2

    Erin¡¯s fingers barely found purchase on Brightcrest¡¯s thick leather collar as the gryphon¡¯s powerful wings beat against the wind. The sudden rush of air threatened to rip her away, her feet dangling as the deck of the ship fell away beneath her.


    She scrambled, heart hammering and arms straining as she fought to swing a leg up and over the gryphon¡¯s back. Brightcrest jerked mid-air, twisting to evade a lunging Shrike, and Erin nearly lost her grip.


    She gritted her teeth and hung on for dear life.


    With a desperate heave, she hooked a knee over the gryphon¡¯s back and threw herself forward, landing hard against the creature¡¯s feathered shoulders. Her fingers fumbled for the harness straps-this was why they checked them, she thought wildly-but the battle left no time for casual adjustments. She clung to the gryphon¡¯s thick mane as Brightcrest banked sharply.


    Below, the deck was in chaos as the crew fought, swords cutting the air, their cries lost beneath the piercing shrieks of the attacking creatures. The wizards sent jolts of energy into the air, crashing through the swarming shrikes. Many of the creatures fell, wings folded as their lifeless bodies tumbled into the endless void, but more came, swarming like a living storm.


    Brightcrest¡¯s powerful hind legs kicked at the air as the gryphon angled upward, talons lashing out. A Shrike that had been diving for a crewman shrieked as the gryphon¡¯s claws tore through its leathery wings, sending it spiralling away.


    Erin finally found a strap and looped it around her wrist, anchoring herself. She had no saddle, and no real control as she shivered, exposed fully to the cold winds as the gryphon left the safety of the ship and was suddenly out over the void.


    The gryphon wheeled, scanning the battlefield and Erin followed its gaze. Below, Geoffrey fought in the thick of the battle, his blade flashing as he cut down beast after beast. Smoke bloomed as a pistol was fired, the sound splitting the night, but the Shrikes kept coming.


    She had to help.


    ¡°Brightcrest, down!¡± she shouted, fighting to be heard above the roar of the wind and not knowing if the young gryphon would listen, or if it even understood her.


    The gryphon gave a sharp cry and tucked its wings, plunging toward the deck.


    Shrikes scattered at the movement, like minnows before a shark. Brightcrest¡¯s talons cut through a slower one, leaving a bloodied trail in his wake.


    The Shrike, sensing the danger from the gryphon, turned their attention on him. One darted toward them, claws outstretched, its fanged mouth gaping wide.


    Erin acted without thinking. She ripped the harness strap free of her wrist and shifted her weight, leaning into the gryphon¡¯s movements. ¡°Right!¡± She cried. ¡°Go right!¡±


    Brightcrest banked sharply, just as the Shrike snapped at the space where they had been. Erin reached for the only weapon she had-the small knife strapped to her belt. It was made for cutting leather, not fighting creatures of the void, but it was better than nothing.


    As the gryphon arched its wings, Erin slashed at the Shrike as they passed, the blade cutting across its flattened snout. The creature screeched and veered off, but another took its place.


    Fear gripped her. There was no escaping the Shrike, they were everywhere.


    Erin tightened her grip on Brightcrest¡¯s mane, forcing her breathing to slow. If she was going to survive, she would need to do more than just cling on. She would need to fight.


    As the battle raged below and more of the Shrikes wheeled in the air, aiming themselves at her and the gryphon, she braced herself, and dug her heels into the gryphon¡¯s side.


    Brightcrest¡¯s wings thundered as he soared through the air, straight at the approaching Shrike, Erin clinging to his thick mane as they wove through the chaos. His talons and claws red with blood as she kicked and slashed at any Shrike that came too close.


    Crewmen fought in desperate clusters, muskets flashed, and swords carved through leathery bodies. The wizards had retreated to the stern deck, their wands flaring with bursts of magic that sent arcs of fire and crackling lightning through the night.


    But there were too many Shrikes.


    Erin barely had time to think before another lunged at them. Brightcrest twisted mid-air, his talons slashing. The Shrike shrieked as Brightcrest¡¯s claws raked through its side, sending it spiralling away, but another was already diving in.


    Clinging to his back, Erin¡¯s heart pounded. She had no weapon beyond her belt knife, and that was no match for the swarm. She had to put her trust in the gryphon.


    She shifted her weight, pressing her legs tighter against the gryphon¡¯s sides. ¡°Left!¡± she called, praying he would listen.


    Brightcrest veered left, just as a Shrike lunged past, missing them by inches.


    Erin¡¯s breath caught. It worked.


    ¡°Down!¡±


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    Brightcrest dove, tucking is wings in tight. Erin pressed into his back, the wind causing tears to stream from her eyes as she screamed, not with fear, but with sheer joy! She wasn¡¯t just a passenger, she was riding.


    For a heartbeat, she felt it. A connection between them, a silent understanding, like two dancers moving in sync. She wasn¡¯t fighting against his movements-she was flowing with them.


    Another Shrike dove for them. Erin saw it coming at the last second, almost too late, as she shouted, ¡°Roll!¡±


    Brightcrest twisted, spiralling through the air as the creature passed too wide, unable to adjust.


    Erin¡¯s scream turned to laughter, leaving her breathless.


    But below, the ship was struggling. The crew pushed back towards the doors leading belowdecks. The wizards¡¯ spells were coming slower, their wands dull in their hands, the magic depleted. Their magic not enough to turn the tide.


    The woman in the blue velvet robe stood on the stern deck, her wand raised. The apprentice beside her clutched his own wand, his face pale but his stance firm. Blood ran down his cheeks and stained his robe and it was clear he had fought hard.


    Together, they raised their wands, their voices weaving together as they cast out their words of power.


    The air crackled.


    A low him filled the sky, rising into a ringing chime. The last of the runes along their wands flared, the bright gold winking out.


    Brightcrest tensed beneath her, and Erin felt the shift in the air, the power building around the wizards. The Shrike felt it too, sensitive as they were to air currents they relied upon, and their relentless attack faltered.


    Then the spell erupted.


    A blinding wave of golden light surged outwards, expanding from the wizards in a brilliant pulse. It washed over the ship like a storm, crashing into the Shrikes mid-air.


    The creatures screamed.


    Their bodies burned as the magic ripped through them, searing their bodies and tearing their wings apart. Dozens fell instantly, bodies turning to ash before they even hit the deck, as more fled trailing smoke and flame out into the void before they too died and fell into the endless below.


    The sky, once thick with the monsters, began to clear. The few surviving Shrikes fleeing back into the darkness, disappearing into the void as quickly as they had come.


    Just like that, the battle was over. But, not without cost.


    The main mast was ablaze, the canvas sail burning brightly, a beacon lighting the night around the ship in a flickering orange halo.


    ¡°Fire!¡±


    Weary sailors, bloodied and mentally worn, cast aside their weapons and ran to douse the flames. On the stern deck, the apprentice wizard knelt beside the woman in blue velvet robes who lay unmoving.


    Erin exhaled, body trembling with adrenaline. Her grip on Brightcrest loosened slightly, her fingers sore from holding on so tightly. She scanned the deck below, littered as it was with the bodies of both Shrikes and fallen crewmen as she sought a place to land.


    Geoffrey stared up at her, scowling, and she swallowed back her fear.


    He would be angry, and rightly so.


    His arm stabbed out, pointing to a space on the deck and she shifted her weight, Brightcrest following her direction without the need for words. He landed with a thump that jarred her and trotted to a slow stop.


    ¡°Good boy,¡± she whispered, running her hands through his mane.


    Brightcrest huffed, feathers ruffling, and Erin smiled.


    Her smile faded as Geoffrey stormed over to them, and she wilted, knowing the punishment would be severe.


    But she didn¡¯t care.


    She had flown!


    That was something she had never dreamt she would be able to do, and she would hold to that memory no matter the punishment she had to endure.


    ¡°Madness, girl!¡± Geoffrey bellowed, his voice rising above the cries of the wounded. ¡°What were you thinking?¡±


    Erin could only shrug. She hadn¡¯t been thinking, she¡¯d just reacted.


    Brightcrest was young, and valuable. Too young and unbonded too, which meant he could have flown away, or hurt himself in the fight with the Shrike. She couldn¡¯t allow that to happen. Geoffrey would have been punished far worse than she if he had lost the gryphon.


    ¡°Sorry, sir.¡±


    Geoffrey raised his arm, hand curling into a fist still red with the blood of the Shrike he had dispatched. Erin flinched, waiting for the blow, but Brightcrest moved first, a hiss escaping his beak as he swung around protectively.


    Erin gasped, and Geoffrey fell back, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as the great beast looked down at him with amber eyes that glowed fiercely in the light of the fire.


    ¡°God¡¯s above and below,¡± Geoffrey whispered. ¡°You¡¯ve bonded with it!¡±


    ****


    On the stern deck, Mathias knelt beside Margery¡¯s body, her lifeless eyes staring up at the dark night sky and the stars she had so loved watching. His hand trembled as he ran it down his face, exhaustion clouding his vision with a darkness that threatened to draw him down.


    It had been too much, that last spell, taking every bit of mana infused into their wands and needing more besides. She had known that and cast the spell, anyway, using her own body as the conduit knowing what it would do to her and doing it anyway.


    ¡°Sleep well, mistress,¡± he whispered. ¡°May those that remain guide you back home.¡±


    Gently, he reached out and touched his fingertips to her eyelids, closing her eyes and giving her the semblance of peaceful sleep.


    ¡°Wizard!¡±


    Mathias looked up, frowning at the interruption as a sailor climbed the wooden stairs to the stern deck.


    ¡°Leave me!¡±


    ¡°The fire!¡± the sailor turned and pointed to the blazing mast and the other crewman swarming around it dousing the flames as they tried to spread. ¡°We need your help, or we are lost!¡±


    With a grimace, Mathias shook his head and held out a hand. ¡°Help me up.¡±


    The crewman rushed to obey and helped haul the apprentice to his feet. He slung an arm like corded steel around the wizard¡¯s waist, holding him upright as Mathias reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass vial, half-full of a golden liquid that shone through the glass.


    Pulling the cork stopper, Mathias inserted the end of his wand into the bottle, touching it to the golden liquid and closing his eyes. Drawing a deep breath, he calmed his mind and entered that practiced state of peaceful meditation that allowed him to focus on the power contained in that glass bottle.


    Holding his breath, he drew on it, pulling that power into the wand he held. As the astonished sailor watched, the dark runes that ran along the wand¡¯s length, began to glow, one after another, the light moving slowly along the wand¡¯s length as the golden liquid in the bottle vanished as though it was being absorbed into the wood.


    Only when the wand was fully charged, did Mathias release his hold on the power contained in the bottle and he sagged in the sailor¡¯s arms, exhausted beyond words. He gestured with the wand and the sailor caught his meaning, reaching down for the cork stopper and passing it back to the apprentice who sealed the last remnants of golden liquid in the bottle once more.


    Mathias stared up at the burning mast and sucked in a breath. The fire was blazing hotter than a forge, and even on the stern deck he could feel it hot against his skin. Grimacing, he raised the wand, running through the spells he knew in his mind.


    ¡°Be ready,¡± he muttered, and the sailor gawped at him.


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°To catch me,¡± Mathias said as he spoke the words of a spell, the power rushing through him and taking consciousness with it.

 Chapter 3

    Erin sat gingerly on the deck, shifting her weight with a grimace, searching for a position that didn¡¯t sting. She ignored the laughter of the crew and their knowing looks. There was no way they hadn¡¯t heard her squeals as she¡¯d felt the crack of the belt.


    Still, she had accepted the punishment with good grace, she¡¯d earned it.


    She¡¯d bonded with Brightcrest.


    That thought brought tears unbidden to her eyes, and she twisted her head to look back at the door that led to the chamber where the gryphon slept.


    It was almost unheard of, to bond so quickly. Everything she had been taught told her that it took months of careful work and training before a rider would even attempt to mount a gryphon, and then many weeks more of slowly increasing time in the saddle before a bond would begin to form.


    But somehow, she had managed to win the impressive creature¡¯s trust. Though, she had no idea how.


    Geoffrey stomped past her without a glance, his face set, and his eyes hard. He went into the room beneath the forecastle, where Brightcrest slept, and slammed the door shut behind him.


    Erin watched that door for longer than she should have before she gave up.


    Brightcrest would need tending. He¡¯d taken some minor wounds and had flown free for a short time after months of being confined to that room. He would be restless and eager to fly again, and it was on Geoffrey to ensure that didn¡¯t happen.


    He had ordered Erin to stay away, and she had no choice but to obey.


    The gryphon handler was in a precarious position. He had been contracted to transport the gryphon to the new colony of Rockshore where an apprentice rider was waiting for him. Now, with the gryphon bonded to Erin, there would be hell to pay.


    It would cost him status within the guild and could well ensure he lose the chance to ply his trade. Who could trust a handler with their gryphon, when he allowed one to be bonded by someone who hadn¡¯t trained in the Eyrie!


    Though, Erin knew it wasn¡¯t just that which had angered him. No, she had put herself and the gryphon in danger, and as hard as he could be, Geoffrey cared deeply for the creatures in his charge.


    Erin included.


    With a sigh, she brushed at her eyes. Her one flight had likely been the last she would ever take. Geoffrey wouldn¡¯t let her near Brightcrest again, hoping that when delivered to the waiting riders, they wouldn¡¯t realise it had already been bonded.


    ¡°Chin up, lass,¡± Old Man Uric said as he coiled a long length of rope in callused hands. ¡°We survived.¡±


    Barely, Erin thought with a grimace that the crewman took for a smile.


    The bodies had been removed, but the stains remained on the wood, despite the attempts to scrub them away by several members of the crew. The occasional scream sounded from below deck as the surgeon did what he could to save those wounded in the attack.


    Lying along the port rail, seven canvas wrapped bodies were a stark reminder than not everyone had made it. Many more were wounded, and at least one would not work a ship again.


    Those sailors still able, were working on repairs despite their obvious exhaustion. Blood still stained their clothes, and they moved slowly, carefully, knowing haste when weary would lead to accidents and there were too many lost already to risk more.


    The mainmast remained standing, though the topmast and the spar had been too damaged to be of use. They had been removed, and the ships carpenter was standing with Officer Letterford as they discussed how to fix it and get the ship moving again.


    Which would be a while yet, since the mainsail had burned, leaving little of use. There was spare canvas belowdecks and a new sail was being prepared, but they needed the mast fixing before they could raise it.


    Erin sat and listened to the sailors talk, and there was a lot of words and terms she didn¡¯t understand, but she figured out the gist of it. She understood enough to know they were in trouble.


    A cry sounded from across the deck and sailors scattered. Out of a coiled rope sitting on the deck, a leathery creature crawled. It was injured; its left wing held tight to its side, as it hissed and spit at the nearby crewmen.


    The Shrike were vicious, skyborne predators. Creatures of leathery sinew and unceasing hunger. Roughly the size of a small cat, they possessed bodies built for long flights on the void winds that blew between islands.


    Their wings were membranous, akin to those of a bat, stretched taut over elongated finger-like bones. When fully extended, they allowed for a swift, agile movement through the shifting current of the void.


    They had heads that were narrow, elongated, with a flattened snout bristling with needle-like teeth designed for piercing and shredding. The Shrike did not chew their prey-they punctured, rendered, and swallowed in greedy gulps.


    A clawed thumb on each wing joint allowed them to grip onto prey, surfaces or even to tangle with other Shrikes in midair skirmishes. Skin, thick and leathery, offered protection from the cold of the void and enemies alike.


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    Erin had only ever heard tales of them; of a swarm catching a ship enroute between islands. Food was all they thought about, and once they had prey in sight, they would attack without ceasing until their prey was theirs, or they lost so many of their swarm to be vulnerable, which was when they would flee to look for smaller game and rebuild their strength.


    ¡°Filthy creature,¡± Old Man Uric said.


    He watched as Officer Letterford stalked across the deck, pulling free his sword. The officer hesitated, circling the vicious creature warily. Even wounded, they were dangerous, and Officer Letterford had bandages enough to show evidence of that. He darted in and with one quick thrust, the creature was dead, and Officer Letterford lifted it, still impaled on his blade, and cast it over the side of the ship.


    ¡°Why did you fight?¡± Erin asked, curiosity overcoming her natural shyness. ¡°Why not hide belowdecks.¡±


    Old Man Uric spat, lips twisting with distaste. ¡°Can¡¯t hide from the Shrike, lass.¡± He continued to coil the rope as he spoke, not needing to look at his work as his hands moved in the same way they had countless times before. ¡°They would teat and chew the wood, forcing their way inside.¡±


    Erin nodded, brow furrowed as she digested that, and then gasped, understanding.


    ¡°If you hid belowdecks, they would come at you from all directions.¡±


    ¡°Aye, lass,¡± he agreed. ¡°Better to stand and fight in the open, else the ship would be infested with them.¡±


    The young apprentice nodded at that, and the sailor continued his work as she considered the other questions she had. Normally, she was far too timid to ask them, but she had flown last night and fought!


    Today she felt she could do anything.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t they untie the man?¡± she asked, lifting her chin to the burned mast. ¡°He was left for them.¡±


    His screams had been terrible, bound and helpless as the Shrike devoured him alive. It was a most horrible death, and one she knew would give her nightmares for weeks.


    Old Man Uric seemed to feel the same and he grunted, spitting again, much to the annoyance of the crewman who was mopping the deck nearby. He frowned at the older man but didn¡¯t comment as she just swept his mop over the deck again.


    ¡°No one cared, lass,¡± was the only answer the sailor gave.


    ¡°Why?¡± Erin asked, emboldened by the man¡¯s willingness to answer her.


    Old Man Uric made to spit again but turned it into a cough as he caught the glare of the sailor mopping.


    ¡°Not for me to say.¡± He grunted and set aside the rope before he picked up another length that had been dumped carelessly on the deck. ¡°Though some might say, he was a thief and got caught with his hand in pockets that weren¡¯t his own.¡±


    Erin grimaced at that. It would explain the whipping he¡¯d received, which she wasn¡¯t sure he deserved even for that, but he certainly hadn¡¯t deserved death. Someone should have cut him loose and let him fight.


    She sensed that the older sailor wouldn¡¯t agree though and she was hesitant to offend the first person she¡¯d spoken to besides Geoffrey since they¡¯d boarded the ship back in Southpeak. It was nice, she thought, to just speak to someone.


    ¡°How long before we sail again?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re still sailing, lass.¡± Old Man Uric lifted his chin towards the foremast and then turned to do the same to the mizzenmast, that shorter sail on the sterndeck. Both had their sails unfurled, taut with the winds they caught. ¡°Just slow, is all.¡±


    Erin gaped at the masts, and then her cheeks heated as she blushed crimson. The old sailor laughed as she shook her head, cursing herself for a fool! She should have realised that, though even after months of travel it was hard to tell.


    The ship was held aloft by magics she didn¡¯t understand, and unless the winds were strong, buffeting the ship, there was little to tell they were moving. They were floating in an empty void, with no markings around them to tell if they were moving at all.


    For all she knew, they could be travelling at ten knots, or two.


    She ducked her head, cheeks burning furiously, distracting her from the slowly fading pain of the strap Geoffrey had taken to her behind.


    ¡°Be well, lass,¡± Old Man Uric said, laughing. ¡°Takes time to learn the feel of a ship.¡±


    ¡°I guess,¡± she muttered.


    She left the sailor to his work, her desire for answers quelled by the embarrassment she felt. Erin sat, hunched over, her head in her hands and stared at the deck as she replayed the flight on the grypon, again and again, in her head.


    It had been the greatest moment of her life and one she would remember forever, even if she never had the chance to ride Brightcrest again.


    She looked up as the belowdecks doors opened and watched as the apprentice wizard climbed the stairs wearily. Dark rings circled his eyes, and his skin was pale. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and he wore a neat beard to match.


    The grey robes beneath his cloak were rumpled, with tears made by the claws of a Shrike, and stained with blotches of his blood. He limped when he walked, wincing as he placed his weight on his left leg.


    His gaze swept the deck, pausing as her caught her eyes with his own, a moments hesitation as his eyes narrowed before moving on. Stiff backed, he walked away, across the deck to where Officer Letterford was standing overseeing the repairs.


    ¡°Ey up.¡±


    She looked up at Old Man Uric¡¯s call. He caught her eye and gestured with a jerk of his head over the starboard rail. Frowning, she followed his direction, looking out of the empty air.


    Or not so empty.


    Her mouth fell open as she caught sight of it, a chunk of rock hanging in empty space. Twice as tall as the ship was long, and three times as wide, it was barren and grey, hanging motionless.


    ¡°The Watcher,¡± Old Man Uric said, voice low and filled with reverence.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Erin asked, turning to him.


    ¡°It mean¡¯s we¡¯re close to the Wall,¡± he said.


    Erin gulped, excitement and fear mixing and sticking in her throat.


    The Wall.


    She had heard tales of it ever since she was a young girl sitting around the dinner table with her family. Her older brothers laughing and recounting stories they had heard from men who had heard them from someone else, each story growing in the telling.


    It was a place of danger yet filled with all the wealth of a thousand shattered worlds. It was one of the thirteen wonders, and somewhere she had always wanted to see with her own eyes, to find the truth in all those stories she had heard.


    When she had started her apprenticeship with the gryphon handlers, she had thought that dream would never come true. Not with the risk of war looming close, and every gryphon needed kept close to home.


    Then Geoffrey had been given the task of transporting a gryphon across the void to the very edge of the Wall, and she had begged him to take her with him. He had laughed at her excitement and agreed, promising her hard work alongside her training while she travelled, but it had not deterred her.


    ¡°How close?¡± she asked, excitement spilling out in her voice. ¡°To the Wall?¡±


    ¡°A day.¡± Old Man Uric shrugged. ¡°Perhaps two, if the sails fixed. Twice that if not.¡±


    Her heart sank for a moment. Four days! It was too much to bear, knowing she was so close, so near.


    She sprang to her feet, soreness forgotten as she rushed away, waving farewell to the old sailor. She had to tell Geoffrey that they were close.


    And she had to see Brightcrest. Spend some time with him before he was handed over and she lost him forever.

 Chapter 4

    Mathias sat on the cot in his small cabin, head in his hands, thinking furiously as he fought against the surging anger.


    It wasn¡¯t fair!


    His apprenticeship had been all but done, with the end of the journey allowing him the chance to create his final apprentice piece, and prove he was ready to be promoted to journeyman. A task he had been working six years towards.


    It would have been the chance for him to move forward, study at the Arcanum and begin his rise through the ranks to Adept, and then Master of his art. Perhaps even reaching the exalted position of High Master and leading his Order, or eventually Archmagus, the supreme leader of all wizards in Ratan.


    With the death of Adept Margery, his teacher those past six years, his dreams were dashed.


    There would be no one to mark the completion of his final apprentice piece, and the chances of finding a new teacher to take him on for that one final act would be impossible. At best, he would need to re-do at least two years of his apprenticeship, and at worst, start from scratch.


    Which was another way to say it was impossible. No teacher would take on an apprentice his age, with years of training already completed, and it was foolish to believer otherwise.


    No. His dreams were ruined, his chance of ever studying at the Arcanum fading like mist before the morning sun.


    All because she had chosen to sacrifice herself to save a few men.


    His hand curled into fists at the thought, and he held them rigidly at his side, holding back from destroying what few personal belongings he had in the small cabin in his rage.


    It was too much!


    If she had held off, just waited, they would have defeated the Shrike swarm, he was sure of it. Her sacrifice had been unnecessary and selfish beyond belief, in that she had killed not just herself but his career too.


    He rose from the cot, the motion almost violent, and began to pace in the small space. He had been blessed with a quick mind, or so he had been told, and it was time to put that to use. There had to be a solution. All he needed was to figure out what it was.


    Which was not so easy as he had thought.


    There were rules as unbreakable as commandments from the Lost, and just as revered, within the Arcanum. Rules and traditions that could not, would not, be broken for anyone.


    Though, there were-perhaps-ways to work around them.


    He scratched at the dark beard that covered his lower face. It was a point of pride for him to keep it neat and orderly, and it was past time to be tended, the hair starting to itch and scratch at his skin. Too long on the ship and away from the city, where he could spend his rest day visiting one of the excellent barbers, before enjoying a leisurely morning sipping coffee at his favourite caf¨¦ high on the hill, giving him a commanding view across the entire city.


    It had been Margery¡¯s decision to undertake the long crossing to the new colony. Her choice to set there his final apprentice piece. While all his peers were assigned their pieces in the Artificer District, creating elaborate works that they could then sell to help fund their progression into the next stage of their career.


    Not for Mathias though. No. His teacher had decided that her pupil must create something of note. Something that would stand for an age and be of service to the nation of Ratan.


    Just thinking of that almost made him apoplectic with renewed fury and his feet became heavy, pounding the wooden boards as he paced.


    As much as he had almost revered her, for her skill and talent, it was her politics he did not share. She was of noble birth and had been raised with the belief that it was her duty to help others, to serve the community and the nation both.


    Not so much for Mathias, the low born son of a tradesman one step removed from the poor quarter and the slums contained there. No, he knew that such beliefs could only be held by those with the wealth and power to have the luxury of them, and while he longed to attain such a lofty position, he had long known he would never share those beliefs.


    There was only one person who mattered, and that was himself.


    Which brought him back to his quandary: how to ensure he could finish his apprenticeship and move on to the Arcanum Magicka, and higher learning.


    More to the point, how to do so and earn enough coin to fund that next level of learning.


    He stopped, a thought occurring as a solution presented itself. Risky, yes, but if he pulled it off, he would return to Yorwich as the talk of the city, his name on everyone¡¯s lips. At that point, they would be unable to deny his progression to journeyman, and he would be able to charge a fortune for his services, allowing him to fund his training.


    He pounded his fist against his open palm, jaw set as he decided. He would do it. Risk be damned.


    Grabbing his cloak from where it lay rumpled on the bed, he pulled it on and stepped out of his cabin, letting the door close behind him with a thump.


    The corridors below decks were cramped and hot, the bronze pipes fixed to the hull radiating heat and fighting the bitter cold of the void that would otherwise permeate everything. The air was rank with the odour of unwashed bodies and the cook¡¯s station, where the fat man worked to prepare the days meals, using far too many spices in an effort to cover the taste of the cheap cuts of meat.


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    With a sour twist of his mouth, and a further lowering of his mood, Mathias brushed past a hurrying crewman carrying an armful of fresh bandages towards the surgeon¡¯s office. A space not hard to locate with the screams and moans of the wounded issuing from it.


    Mathias pulled open the doors to the stairs leading to the centre deck, and sucked in a lungful of the fresh, cold, air. It was a relief after being in the cloying space below decks, and he climbed the stairs quickly.


    He paused at the top, eyes scanning the deck, still stained with the blood of the fallen, men and Shrike alike. The crew were hard at work repairing the damage and making the ship ready of a steady speed rather than the crawl it currently managed.


    His gaze paused as he caught the eyes of a girl, his brow furrowing. The girl who had flown, he realised, recalling a glimpse of her terrified expression as she passed over him on the back of a gryphon during the battle.


    Blonde hair tied in a ponytail, short of stature and slight, a perfect candidate for the Gryphon Riders, who preferred such. Less weight for the creatures they rode to have to haul into the sky, allowing them to carry more equipment and whatever supplies or goods they might be carrying without the need of enhancing their harnesses with magics to lighten the weight.


    She wore the plain coat and work-trousers common amongst all the tradesmen though, and the brass pin on her breast denoted her to be an apprentice of the Gryphon Handlers, a subset of the Riders guild.


    Not a rider then, a handler. Little more than a farmhand or one of her majesty¡¯s zookeepers. His lips pressed into a tight line, and he dismissed her as irrelevant, his gaze moving on, searching until he found someone he could speak to.


    Stalking across the deck, he stopped beside Officer Letterford, an arrogant ass with a penchant for over-zealous application of the rawhide whip he kept coiled on his belt, on the opposite side of the slim rapier he wore on his left.


    The dark green officers¡¯ jacket was worn over a white shirt and crisp, white trousers. He wore black leather boots polished to a high shine, and the brass buttons of his jacket glittered. Unlike the crew who wore sheepskin vests against the cold, he eschewed all, but a thick, woollen cloak dyed green to match his jacket.


    His blonde hair was cut short, and his moustache was thick and well groomed, though in a style that had long since fallen out of favour by the gentlemen of the city.


    ¡°Be off now, Oliver,¡± he said to the crewman, his voice firm, the tone clipped and betraying his roots as a son of the merchant class. He came from money, then, Mathias knew, his family well off enough to purchase a commission, but was not noble born. ¡°Hurry and tell Josias we are ready for the spar to be raised.¡±


    The crewmen leapt to obey, as fearful as all the crew were of the officer¡¯s harsh temper and firm hand. Mathias watched him go and waited with barely concealed impatience for Letterford to turn his attention to him.


    ¡°Speak up, man,¡± Officer Letterford said without looking around. ¡°I have too much to do to waste time, so to the point, if you please.¡±


    ¡°I require access to Wizard Carlyll¡¯s cabin.¡±


    Officer Letterford did turn his head to look at the young wizard then, a frown forming as his lips twisted. ¡°What need have you of that?¡±


    ¡°Her belongings-¡°


    ¡°Are to be returned to the Arcanum,¡± Letterford said. ¡°As we are legally bound to do. You have no rights to pick over her things.¡±


    Mathias reined in his temper and bit down on his tongue, the sting of pain giving him pause before he spoke something he could not take back. While he had no fear of the officer¡¯s lash, as he was not a member of the crew, he knew that without the officer¡¯s goodwill, his journey could be made quite unpleasant.


    ¡°There are items that I will require to complete my task at Rockshore,¡± he pressed. ¡°To complete the contract Lord Browett has commissioned.¡±


    It never hurt to drop the name of a lord, he reasoned, though to his annoyance it seemed to have little effect on the ships officer.


    ¡°Your mistress was commissioned,¡± Officer Letterford pointed out, frown deepening. ¡°As her apprentice, you could not have taken on such a commission yourself.¡±


    ¡°With her passing, and a six month return trip, there will be no one else able to complete the commission,¡± Mathias pointed out, gritting his teeth. ¡°You will be aware of the urgency of this task and such a wait will not please Lord Browett.¡±


    He grimaced, irritated as he was forced to step aside as several crewmen brushed past him, their bodies reeking of day-old sweat and the sheepskin vests they wore had a rank odour that no amount of washing could erase. Officer Letterford followed their passing with his eyes and barked out an order.


    ¡°Roland, Lewis, get your arses moving and climb that bloody mast. If you¡¯re not up there by the time the spar is ready to be hauled, I¡¯ll have your hides!¡±


    The two named sailors didn¡¯t hesitate as they scrambled up the scorched mast, trailing the thick ropes that would be used to help haul the heavy spar into place. Each of them had a thick canvas bag of tools and parts they would need at the top, strapped to their backs making their movements awkward as they climbed.


    Mathias tried again, sensing his was losing the officers attention. ¡°Sir, I must protest quite strongly; my need for the books and equipment Wizard Carlyll was bringing are crucial to my task.¡±


    ¡°Enough, man,¡± Officer Letterford snapped. ¡°The law is clear. Her belongings will be returned and no matter my thoughts on this, I am bound by law.¡±


    ¡°Three months out from the Queen¡¯s Law,¡± Mathias pointed out. ¡°The only law that applies is ships law, and here the captain decides. All I ask is access to the equipment required for the task assigned. I have no interest in her personal belongings.¡±


    ¡°The captain decides,¡± Letterford¡¯s lip curled. ¡°And I enforce it. You complain to the wrong man, sir.¡±


    ¡°You think that Lord Browett will be pleased to hear you delayed his commission?¡±


    ¡°That, sir, is neither my concern nor my interest.¡± The officer¡¯s nostrils flared. But before he could reply further a scream cut him off, followed by a heavy thump as one of the two crewman who had been climbing the mast slipped and fell from a great height.


    He lay motionless on the wooden decking, knocked senseless though still alive judging by the rise and fall of his desk.


    ¡°Gods below,¡± Letterford muttered before leaping into action and barking orders. ¡°Rafe, run for a stretcher. Jude, stop your staring and get out of my way.¡±


    Officer Letterford pushed past the shocked Jude and crouched beside the fallen crewman. He reached out, hand hesitating above the man¡¯s body. The leg was bent at an angle it shouldn¡¯t be, and bone poked through the skin of his arm. There was blood on his lips, and his breath gurgled in his throat.


    ¡°Wizard,¡± Letterford called. ¡°Help here!¡±


    ¡°With what?¡± Mathias asked, grunting. ¡°I am no healer.¡±


    Officer Letterford¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Mayhap not, sir! But you are all we have.¡±


    Mathias spread his hands, lips pressing tight before he spoke. ¡°Apologies, sir. Guild law demands that an apprentice not practice healing unsupervised.¡± He smirked at the officer¡¯s angered expression. ¡°You understand, of course.¡±


    He spun on his heel, cloak swirling in the air in quite the dramatic fashion, much to the wizard¡¯s delight, and he strode away as the officer began to bellow and take out his rage on the crew.


    Mathias didn¡¯t care. They were almost at journey¡¯s end and there were ways to circumvent the officer¡¯s insistence on following the law to the letter. All he needed was time to think and plan the best way to do that.


    Behind him the man on the deck groaned in pain. A wet, choking sound.


    Mathias didn¡¯t stop. He had time. That was all that mattered.

 Chapter 5

    The mood in the narrow mess hall was subdued, the crew speaking in low voices as they ate roasted salt beef with pickled cabbage and carrots. They each had a tankard of small beer with their meal which helped calm nerves after a fraught few days but was not enough to get them drunk or rile them up.


    Erin waited in line for her meal, tin plate and mug in hand, feeling small and uncomfortable in the too warm room filled with a mix of aromas pleasant and otherwise, while standing between two burly sailors, each head and shoulders taller than she. The men in line talked little, each of them waiting impatiently for their turn to be served.


    The cook, a man far too fat for comfort, served the thick slices of meat, while his assistant, a young boy barely thirteen, ladled the vegetables onto plates. There was a keg on a stand beside the counter, with the small beer that each crewman would fill their tankards from.


    When it was her turn, Erin handed over her plate and while the food was ladled onto it, she filled her tankard. Then, plate and tankard in hand, she scoured the dimly lit room for a place to sit and eat.


    Normally she would have eaten on deck, but a change in the weather had put an end to that, the sound of the rain audible even below decks. She spied a space near the door, and she headed to it, weaving through the crowded tables to reach it.


    A hand grabbed her arm as she passed and she jerked back, stomach twisted into knots at the sudden stab of fear. She turned to the bearded sailor with stained teeth and foul breath who had grabbed at her, as he lifted his leg over the bench so that he straddled it and patted his knee.


    ¡°Sit her, darlin. Keep a man company.¡±


    ¡°N-no, I-¡°


    ¡°C¡¯mon now! No need to be rude. We¡¯ve lost mates, we have. Sit and raise a tankard to them that was lost.¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± another sailor said, lifting his tankard. ¡°To the lost.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I need-¡°


    The sailor shook his head, face darkening. ¡°Now didn¡¯t I tell you not to be rude.¡±


    ¡°Leave her be,¡± Old Man Uric said coming up behind her. He pushed between Erin and the sailor. ¡°Else you¡¯ll face the lash.¡±


    That was almost enough to quieten the sailor, but it was the hard look Old Man Uric gave him that settled the matter. The sailor ducked his head, muttering, but he turned back to his meal. Old Man Uric gestured with a jerk of his head for Erin to go ahead of him and the two of the walked to the table near the door.


    Erin took her seat and with a gesture, Old Man Uric had another sailor shifting along the bench to allow him space to slide onto the bench beside her. She shifted in her seat and the old crewman noticed and chuckled.


    ¡°Worry not, lass. I¡¯m just looking for brighter conversation than this dour lot of sorry souls can give.¡±


    Easy for him to say, Erin thought. To her knowledge there was just three women aboard the ship; one of those was an officer, and the other the quartermaster¡¯s daughter, and assistant. Since the quartermaster was also the paymaster, with a barrel chest and biceps the size of most men¡¯s thighs, few dared talk or bother either.


    Which left Erin.


    She had avoided the worst of it by staying close to Geoffrey or Brightcrest, but with Geoffrey angered, she was barred from Brightcrest¡¯s quarters while her master busied himself with tending the gryphon.


    That left her entirely alone, and feeling incredibly vulnerable and more than a little lonely. As poor company as Geoffrey was, he could often be urged to talk about gryphons and their care, and he had many funny tales of his years in the guild.


    She sniffed and poked at her food with the two-tined fork, moving around the plate rather than eating it.


    ¡°You gonna eat the beef?¡± Old Man Uric asked, nudging her with his elbow to get her attention.


    Erin shook her head and pushed the plate closer to him. He stabbed his fork into the slices of beef, lifting all three onto his plate in one motion. He picked a slice up with his bare fingers, folding it before stuffing it into his mouth and chewing.


    ¡°You¡¯re as dour as this lot.¡± The old sailor waved a hand at the men sitting at the table. They all exchanged looks and small smiles, knowing the older man was building up to something good. ¡°Tell me what ails you, lass.¡±


    Erin looked around the table and felt that familiar pang of fear. She was all too aware of how much smaller she was than any of the sailors, and how much stronger they were. If they decided to close the mess hall doors and stop her leaving, there would be little she could do about it.


    She glanced at the knife on her belt. It wasn¡¯t much but it had hurt the Shrike.


    Noticing the look, Old Man Uric leaned in, his voice quiet, the whispered words for her ears alone. ¡°Fear not, lass. None shall harm you here, you have my word on that.¡±


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    His words were almost convincing and when she looked into his deep, brown eyes, she saw nothing but honest truth there. Her shoulders relaxed, the tension leaving them and he flashed her a grin as she picked up her fork.


    ¡°Bet you¡¯d rather not have given your meat away now, heh?¡±


    His laughter was infectious, and he turned his attention to the sailors around him. ¡°Come now, lads. We¡¯ve had a rough time of it, but we all know the score.¡±


    Old Man Uric stood, looking around. He banged his fist on the table until silence fell, and all men looked his way, even the cook and his assistant. Erin shrank back, feeling entirely too visible, but quickly realising they weren¡¯t looking at her for once.


    The mess hall flickered with the warm glow of lanterns, the air thick with the scent of roasted beef, and too many men pressed together in close quarters. Many of those men slumped at their tables, their bodies weary and their hearts still pounding with the memory of the battle and the losses they¡¯d felt.


    When he was sure that all men¡¯s eyes were upon him, Old Man Uric raised his tankard high and began to sing, his voice deep and filling the mess hall, reaching every man¡¯s ears.


    ¡°They came on swift with claws and spite,


    We met ¡®em bold, we met ¡®em right!


    Steel flashed bright and spells did burn,


    They screamed and fled, they¡¯ll not return!¡±


    He laughed at the last and a few men chuckled, the sound rumbling from somewhere in the hall. Then, as the old sailor stomped his boot to set the beat, another voice joined him, then another, until the room swelled with the song.


    ¡°Their wings beat fast, their fangs shone white,


    They sought to feast, they sought to bite!


    But steel was quick, and spells burned true,


    Now shattered bone were all they knew!¡±


    Tankards thudded against the tables in time with the chorus, a heavy rhythm that shook the floor. Someone clapped a hand against the wall pipes, adding a sharp ringing beat, while another banged a spoon against a plate in time with the song.


    The mess filled with laughter and roars, the battle-worn sailors pushing back their exhaustion with ale and pride.


    A younger deckhand, his face still smudged with soot and his arm bandaged tight, leapt onto a bench, shaking his fist in time with the verse. Another clapped him on the back, and soon men were swaying, arms thrown around shoulders, boots stamping as the final chorus rang out.


    ¡°So drink, me boys, and raise a cheer,


    We stand, we fight, we¡¯ve naught to fear!


    With blood and fire, with steel and spell,


    We send ¡®em screaming back to hell!¡±


    The last word hit like a hammer against iron, the room breaking into wild laughter and cheers. Tankards were lifted, backs were slapped, and for the first time since the battle, the weight on their shoulders felt a little lighter.


    Old Man Uric smirked, tipping his mug towards the room. ¡°That¡¯s better,¡± he said, before throwing back the last of his ale.


    He dropped back into his seat and belched, bringing more laughter from the men around him. Erin stared at him, wide-eyed and he grinned, showing crooked teeth. He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially.


    ¡°They needed that,¡± he said. ¡°To remember they lived, they won!¡±


    Behind her, another man began to sing, a bawdy tune that she listened to for a minute before her eyes went even wider, and her cheeks began to burn. Old Man Uric laughed and slapped her back, surprisingly gently.


    ¡°Drink, lass,¡± he urged. ¡°We saw you fly, and fight! You earned your beer and your seat at this table.¡±


    A chorus of ¡®Aye¡¯s¡¯ sounded from the seated men, those not singing along with the song anyway, and more than one tankard was raised in her direction, much to her surprise. It was overwhelming to her, yet she felt acceptance from those men, and for the first time, she felt safe.


    She gripped her tankard, wrapping both hands around it and lifting it towards each of those men in turn, and then finally, to Old Man Uric. He smiled warmly as she took a deep swallow of the foamy beer, and he laughed again as she smacked her lips.


    ¡°Aye, lass. Drink deep and drink well, for tomorrow begins anew and today¡­¡± He upended his tankard above his open mouth, letting the dregs fall before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and letting out a loud belch. ¡°Today we are alive!¡±


    Yes! Erin thought, she was alive and had survived the Shrike. A tale she would be able to tell again and again when she returned home. Her family would be amazed, and worried for her, but proud too, she was sure.


    But she would still be a gryphon handler, and perhaps not even that once word came that she had bonded with Brightcrest, and the guild responded.


    Her smile faltered, for just a moment, before she forced it back. Sipping once more from the tankard of beer.


    That was a problem for tomorrow, she reasoned. Today, was the time to enjoy life and surviving an attack that had left others dead, their bodies wrapped in canvas and cast over the side with little ceremony.


    There was no time for such things. That would come later when they made landfall and were safe from the dangers of the void.


    When they stepped onto a new island. When they handed over Brightcrest while she was kept aboard ship, distanced from the gryphon in the hopes he wouldn¡¯t kick up a fuss.


    When she was alone, once more.


    She finished her beer and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. Her head spun, even the weak small beer, more than she was used to. Old Man Uric noticed and reached for her shoulder, placing a large hand there and steadying her.


    ¡°Time for sleep, lass,¡± he said, standing. ¡°Come on now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she insisted, though when she stood the room swayed, and she had to plant her hands on the tables edge to keep from falling. ¡°Maybe not.¡±


    Laughter from the table, good natured in tone. Each and every man there remembered their own experiences of drinking when they were young and the effect it had on them. They knew what came next.


    Gentle hands guided her away from the table and towards the door. She clung on to the arm of Old Man Uric, barely listening to his chatter.


    Through the cramped corridors of the crew deck, and back to the small cabin she shared with Geoffrey, though they alternated. Each of them taking it in turns to use the cabin or sleep in the gryphon¡¯s quarters, though she had been denied that since she had flown.


    ¡°Not fair,¡± she muttered and Old Man Uric bent down to better hear.


    ¡°What¡¯s that, lass? What¡¯s not fair?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to do it,¡± she said, looking up at him. ¡°You know that?¡±


    ¡°Aye, lass. I do,¡± said the confused sailor. He pushed open the door to her cabin and guided her in. ¡°Sleep, lass. He pulled the key from the lock and waited till she sat on the cot before he closed the door and locked it behind him.


    With a chuckle and knowing the sore head she would have when she awoke, he slid the key beneath the door for to find in the morning and headed back to the mess hall. He whistled as he walked, knowing well that Cook¡¯s generosity grew with each empty tankard.


    The night was young, after all.

 Chapter 6

    The gryphon¡¯s wings cut through the cool evening air, each powerful beat sending ripples through the treetops below. The vast forest stretched out beneath the weary rider, the deep grey canopy rolling over hills and valleys.


    Shadows stretched long as the sun sank towards the horizon, casting the forest in a golden glow. Rivers and streams sparkled in the dying light, as the water wound its way to the great lake at the centre of the forest.


    Sarah Browett shifted in the saddle, stiff from the long flight. Leather creaked and her fingers tightened around the reins as the gryphon glided lower, riding the warm updrafts rising from the forest floor. The scent of pine and damp earth drifted up, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and wind.


    Beyond the endless trees, the colony came into view-a cluster of wooden buildings close to the islands edge, their rooftops bathed in the fading light. Thin wisps of smoke curled skyward from chimneys, the scent of cooking fires and freshly tilled earth marking it as home.


    Fields of cleared land spread outward from the settlement, a patchwork quilt of crops and pastures providing food and goods for the fledgling colony.


    Greyquill let out a low, tired screech, as she angled toward the landing post, her claws itching for solid ground. Sarah exhaled, rolling aching shoulders, eager to be free of the saddles grip. Another long day, another flight through uncharted skies, but for now, there would be rest.


    Elias Browett, the young Lord of Rockshore, and her brother, was waiting as she landed. He stood back as, Josias, Greyquill¡¯s handler, rushed forward to take the reins as Sarah climbed down from the back of the gryphon.


    She reached up to run her fingers across the gryphon¡¯s broad shoulders and whispered her thanks for the safe flight. Greyquill, turned her head to watch Sarah with amber eyes that shone with intelligence.


    ¡°Go with, Josias,¡± she laughed, patting the gryphon¡¯s side. ¡°He will have a rabbit or two waiting for you.¡±


    ¡°That I have, mistress,¡± Josias said, bobbing his head. He lifted the reins in his hand and gave them a small tug, directing the gryphon to follow him. ¡°Come now, girl. Let¡¯s be getting you brushed down and fed.¡±


    Sarah watched him lead the gryphon away, hands on her hips, and gaze distant. Her once long, naturally curled hair the colour of autumn leaves, had been cut short leaving it barely long enough for her to tie it back from her face.


    Her clothes were worn and dusty but well made, without decoration. Grey woollen trousers, and leather boots that reached her knees. A soft, blue blouse and black jacket with a silver pin denoting her rank of Gryphon Rider, was the only jewellery she wore.


    She moved with a natural grace and was well practiced with the slim rapier that hung from her left hip. Even more so with the pistol holstered on her right.


    Her brother, Elias, was her opposite in almost every way. His hair was black, and his face as handsome as she was beautiful, though his forehead was marred by lines of constant worry. He wore thin wired spectacles, and his clothes were richly embroidered.


    He favoured brighter colours, to her drab tastes, and though he maintained his health, he moved with little grace, each step placed carefully as though he were afraid, he would overbalance. But his smile, when he used it, would light up any room.


    Not that he¡¯d had much cause to smile of late, she thought ruefully.


    ¡°Still no sign of the ship?¡± she asked, before he could speak.


    Elias lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug. ¡°Any day now, I am sure.¡±


    She heard the worry in his voice but ignored it. There was nothing she could do to alleviate it, and she was tired of the arguments that came when she tried. Instead, she just nodded, and rolled her neck, stretching out the tense muscles there.


    ¡°How was your flight?¡±


    ¡°Exhausting,¡± she muttered. A pause, and then she added. ¡°My luck was no better.¡±


    Elias¡¯s face fell at that, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. It was getting noticeably colder and that was a bad sign. It meant that events were accelerating beyond what he had hoped and, worse, that his calculations had been wrong.


    ¡°The wall is looking good, at least,¡± Sarah said, lifting her chin to the palisade that covered two thirds of the colony¡¯s perimeter. Another day or two at most and it would be complete. A wide ditch sat in front of it, half filled with sharpened stakes. ¡°The farmers?¡±


    ¡°Those nearest have agreed,¡± Elias said, hunching his shoulders against the chill air. He glanced up at the sky, convinced he had just felt the first touch of rain. ¡°Seventeen families have decided they are too far out to make the journey each day.¡±


    ¡°More fool them,¡± Sarah muttered. She finished stretching and turned, slipping her arm through her brothers and guiding him away from the platform. ¡°You cannot hold yourself responsible for their choices.¡±


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    ¡°They are in my charge,¡± he said, grimacing as rain began to fall in earnest. ¡°It is my duty to protect them.¡±


    ¡°You cannot protect everyone, brother. Father should have taught you that.¡±


    ¡°Like he did you?¡±


    As much as Elias tried to keep the bitter sting from the words, his sister¡¯s expression told him that he had failed. It was not her fault that she was favoured by their father, nor was it anything she could control.


    Still, even years after his passing, it was a cause of tension between them.


    ¡°My apologies,¡± he said, dropping automatically into the formal, clipped tone, he hadn¡¯t used in two years. ¡°My words were poorly chosen and ill spoken.¡±


    Sarah smiled and patted his arm. ¡°Give over, brother. No offence taken.¡±


    ¡°You are too kind.¡±


    ¡°And you are too stuffy,¡± she said, laughter rising. ¡°Unbend a little. You are not at court.¡±


    That was true enough, he thought as his boots squelched in the churned up muddy channels that passed for streets. The colony was young, barely two years old, and only recently self-sufficient. Which was an achievement, all its own.


    In just two years he had accomplished what should have taken five, and with the wizard¡¯s arrival, he could move to the next stage. Then he would be able to return to court, triumphant, bringing new land into the Queen¡¯s domain. Fertile, bountiful land-a chance to ease the burden of an overcrowded kingdom.


    ¡°Forgive me, sister,¡± he said, voice quiet and thoughtful.


    Sarah watched him from the corner of her eye as they walked. She was tired from a long day in the saddle, but his weariness was bone deep. An exhaustion brought on by the worry and the cares of a new colony and all the people it contained.


    And the troubles that came with it.


    Sergeant Hayes saluted smartly as he marched past with the dozen men set for the first watch. They would man the watchtowers and fill the gap in the palisade with their own bodies. Muskets loaded and ready.


    It would be a long night.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do a sweep of the farmlands in the morning,¡± Sarah said, groaning inwardly at the thought of being so soon back in the saddle. ¡°Before I head back out towards the northern hills.¡±


    ¡°You do too much,¡± Elias protested. ¡°While urging me to rest and ignoring your own needs.¡±


    ¡°Rest is for the old and the dead,¡± she quipped and stopped, cursing herself. ¡°Elias, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He waved away her apology, a gentle smile on his lips. ¡°Be well, sister. No offence taken.¡±


    They stopped at the house they shared. It was barely larger than any of the others, built with smooth river stone at the base rising to chest height, before timber took over the construction. Two storeys, with wooden roof tiles that did a good job keeping out the rain but would need replacing all too soon.


    It was one of the few homes with glass panes in the windows, an expense most did without, though Elias had thought it worth the price at the time. Though he cursed himself for not spending the coin elsewhere now.


    They scraped the mud from the boots and sat in the wicker chairs on the covered porch, before pulling their boots off and hanging their weapons in the rack beside the door. In stockinged feet, they entered the house, pausing in the entry way to appreciate the warmth of the fire burning merrily in the stone fireplace.


    Sybil, the housekeeper, cook and maid, came out of the kitchen as she heard the door close. A chubby, cheerful woman with grey hair in a bun, and a bright, white, pinny; she had been with their family since before they were born twenty years past.


    ¡°Dinner will be ready soon,¡± she said, bustling over and reaching for their coats as they took them off. She tutted at the dust and draped them over her arm before she looked up at the two of them. ¡°Well, be off and wash up.¡±


    The siblings exchanged looks and smiled. Her informality had been well earned as she was the one who had just about raised them after their parents passing. It was she who had seen to their daily needs, had encouraged them with their schooling and cheered their successes.


    She was as much family as anyone could be, and it was only her insistence that she continue on working that she had not retired with a sizeable pension and the thanks of a grateful family.


    The two of them followed her instructions, heading into the back room where basins of steaming water had been prepared. They used scented soap and washcloths to clean themselves up, before towelling themselves dry with the handtowels she has laid out.


    ¡°Check your nails,¡± Sarah reminded Elias as she scrubbed at hers with a brush. Her brother groaned but picked up a brush and set to work on his own.


    When they had finished, they filed into the dining room and stood just beyond the doorway. A smaller fire burned in the fireplace in there, the crackle of wood an almost soothing sound. Light came from candles set upon the long dining table, the flames flickering and dancing as rain pelted the window that overlooked Sybil¡¯s small garden.


    Places had been set, and they each took a seat opposite one another, and waited.


    ¡°In autumn, we will hold the first apprenticeship ceremony,¡± Elias said, fiddling with the silver fork beside his plate. ¡°There will be two children of age.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s pleasing news,¡± Sarah agreed. She eyed the carafe of wine, and then her empty glass, before she cursed the need for propriety.


    ¡°When the ship arrives,¡± Elias said, leaving unspoken the ¡®if the ship arrives,¡¯ ¡°It will surely have letters from Yorwich.¡±


    ¡°I hope not.¡± Sarah wrinkled her nose. ¡°Aunt Prudence has a list of suitors she insists I choose from.¡±


    ¡°A list!¡± Elias raised his brows and chuckled. ¡°She sent me an entire book full of names.¡±


    ¡°Well, you are the lord of a demesne.¡± Sarah¡¯s fingers twitched towards the carafe. It had been a really long day. ¡°One with potential to be of extreme providence.¡±


    Elias shifted uncomfortably, and Sarah realising what she had said, raised a hand but her brother waved away her apology before she could speak it.


    ¡°Enough, sister. We need not dance around the subject.¡±


    ¡°The wizard will arrive,¡± she said, and he nodded.


    ¡°Gods above and below have mercy upon us if they don¡¯t,¡± Elias said.


    Blast it! Sarah thought, reaching for the carafe. Propriety be damned, they both needed a drink.


    ¡°Hands off, young lady,¡± Sybil said, pushing through the door. ¡°Not until the meat is served.¡±


    The cook lifted the plate she held, the roasted chicken steaming as a wave of aroma followed her through the open kitchen door, washing over the two siblings and making their mouths water with anticipation.


    ¡°Now, Elias, you carve, while I will pour your wine.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Elias said, smiling as he rose from his seat.


    The smile faded as the distant sound of gunfire sounded and all three of them turned towards the window. Sybil set down the plate with the chicken, wringing her hands as she trembled, while Sarah pushed back her chair and rose.


    ¡°Arm yourself, brother,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯ve come again.¡±

 Chapter 7

    Banished from Brightcrest¡¯s quarters, Erin found herself with little to do. Most of her work had been spent either in or around the gryphon¡¯s quarters beneath the foredeck, and since Geoffrey ordered her to stay as far from there as possible, there was no work to be done.


    As the storm passed, she spent most of her time on deck, helping her new friends amongst the crew. They accepted her without reservation, showing her the ropes and welcoming her among their ranks.


    On the second day after the storm, she was working with Old Man Uric, coiling endless lengths or ropes. The course material was rough on her hands, and despite the years of working hard manual jobs, she was developing fresh calluses.


    ¡°Why do they call you that?¡± she asked, setting aside a length of rope.


    ¡°Call me what?¡±


    ¡°Old Man Uric,¡± she said. ¡°Never just, Uric.¡±


    It was something that had been nagging at her for some time and she felt that now was as good a time as any to ask. The old sailor didn¡¯t seem offended by the question and just grinned in reply.


    ¡°T¡¯is my name.¡±


    ¡°Old Man Uric is your actual name?¡±


    ¡°Aye, lass.¡±


    ¡°That makes no sense.¡±


    His laughter was loud and warm, and made her feel included in the joke. She¡¯d noticed that about him, she never felt that he was laughing at her, no matter the questions she asked.


    ¡°When I was a wee lad,¡± he said, reaching for a fresh length of rope. ¡°My da died of the black lung. Well, I was the eldest lad and had a whole gaggle of younger brothers and sisters that needed looking after while my ma was taken abed with her grief.¡±


    ¡°So, I did what I had to do.¡± He coiled the rope, length after length, the movement of his hands almost hypnotic to the young gryphon handler. ¡°Well, taking care of the young¡¯uns was no fun, and I was a dour little lad, walking around with a frown permanent on me brow.¡±


    ¡°The people at home, they said, ¡®ee¡¯s like an old man, ee is.¡±¡¯


    Erin giggled at the voice he put on, that of an older lady gossiping about a neighbour. It was the tone she recognised instantly from the old biddies back home.


    ¡°Well, so I was,¡± Old Man Uric continued. ¡°So, that¡¯s what they began to call me and soon enough, none remembered any name but that.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it bother you?¡±


    ¡°Nay, lass. It¡¯s my name, and I earned it with hard graft. And me ma, she got better in time, because I gave her that space she needed to grieve.¡± His gaze was distant as he thought back to his youth, a smile playing on his lips. ¡°Nay, lass. I¡¯m proud to be, Old Man Uric.¡±


    Erin smiled back at him. It was clear that he meant every word of it and any thought she might have had of shortening his name, even just in her own head, was gone.


    ¡°Now, lass,¡± he said, lifting his chin. ¡°Time for you to climb that there rigging.¡±


    Following his direction, her mouth fell open as she stared up at the weblike rope rigging that led from the ships rail to the heavy cross spar almost at the top of the mainmast. Though the wind had lessened, it was still strong, and she had no desire to be blown to her death.


    ¡°What!¡±


    ¡°Go on,¡± he urged. ¡°Get yerself up there and tell me what you see.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll fall.¡±


    ¡°Mayhap you will,¡± he agreed. ¡°But you¡¯ve ridden a gryphon and not fallen. Methinks you¡¯ll have less trouble clinging to a rope as you did to that beast.¡±


    Swallowing back the fear she felt stuck in her throat, Erin laid aside the rope and glanced at the rigging then back at Old Man Uric. She wondered if this was a prank, some mean joke on her that they had been building to and that they wanted to see her fall.


    But no! she thought, they wouldn¡¯t do that.


    At least she hoped they wouldn¡¯t.


    Making a little shooing gesture with his hands, Old Man Uric bade her hurry. Her tongue darted out, wetting suddenly dry lips as she crossed to the rigging.


    The rope was as thick around as her wrist, and when she gave it an experimental tug, it felt firm beneath her grip. With a heavy sigh, and cursing herself for ten kinds of fool, she swung herself up onto the lowest part of the rigging and began to climb.


    Wind pulled at her clothes and her hair whipped at her face. Her breath came in gasps as she pulled herself slowly up, clinging to the ropes as though her life depended upon it. Which, she thought ruefully as she looked down at the deck a dozen feet below, it likely did.


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    She climbed higher, the wind causing the rigging to sway and she pressed her face in the gap between the rope as she paused to calm her fear. Below her, on the deck, Old Man Uric had stopped his work and was watching her carefully.


    He seemed ready to leap across the deck should she fall, which both terrified her and also reassured her somewhat. More sailors had come onto the deck and were congregating by the starboard rail, and to her surprise, the surly wizard stood on the stern deck, hands buried in the pockets of his robes and hood raised, as he stared balefully over the rail.


    The sun was dipping towards the horizon and to her continued dismay, a light rain began to fall, growing heavier with each foot of rigging she managed to climb.


    With arms and legs trembling from the strain and nerves, she reached the top and she clung on like a spider to its web. Hughe, one of the sailors she¡¯d shared a table with, looked down through the open hatch of the crow¡¯s nest.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, lass. Almost made it.¡± He grinned and offered a hand which she reached up and grabbed. His grip was tight, and he practically yanked her arm from its socket as he pulled her up into the crow¡¯s nest.


    Erin sat with her back pressed against the wooden slats that formed the sides and breathed deeply. It wasn¡¯t a fear of heights that had her heart racing, it was the idea that she was utterly vulnerable to the winds and weather.


    She wiped a hand down her face, brushing away the rainwater as she frowned. Looking down through the hatch, Old Man Uric was still watching and she lifted her hands to the sides, gesturing as if to ask, ¡®what now?¡¯


    The old sailor jabbed his arm out towards the starboard rail, a grin splitting his face, and with a grimace, Erin grabbed the edge of the crow¡¯s nest side and pulled herself up.


    ¡°What in the nine hells am I supposed to¡­ oh!¡±


    The first thing she saw was the jagged peaks of a mountain range rising from the western edge like the spine of some great ancient beast, their rocky slopes catching the last dying rays of the sun as it set.


    Beyond the mountains, the land rolled out into a vast forest-deep and old, the treetops forming an emerald canopy that stretched across the island¡¯s heart. Valleys and low hills rippled through the woodland, their contours hinting at hidden secrets beneath the boughs.


    To the east, the land grew rugged again, where weathered hills and rocky cliffs stood against the void, marking the island¡¯s furthest reach.


    But it was the southern shore that drew her eye, where a colony clung to the land¡¯s edge. Wooden buildings with fresh-hewn beams stood defiantly against the wind and rain, and fields of growing crops spread outward, a promise of growth carved from the wilderness.


    Smoke curled from chimneys, the windows aglow with orange light, offering warmth and comfort, as settlers went about their evenings business despite the rain. A palisade was half-finished, standing tall against the dangers of the untamed lands.


    ¡°Amazing,¡± Erin breathed, laughing. She understood then why the old sailor had sent her aloft, so she could see the island before even those clustered at the starboard rail.


    ¡°We¡¯re too high,¡± Hughe said, frown forming. He reached for a brass tube fixed to the side of the mast and placed his mouth close to the opening as he shouted into it. ¡°Too high! Descend! Thirty fathoms. I repeat, thirty fathoms!¡±


    Erin gaped at him. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    He waved her to silence and then repeated the message before pressing his ear to the tube and listening for a response. When it came, he nodded and turned back to grip the crow¡¯s nest wall as he leaned over heedless of the pull of the wind.


    ¡°Too high,¡± he repeated. ¡°We¡¯ll miss the dock.¡±


    Looking at the island, Erin could see what he meant. If they followed on as expected, they would come in above the town rather than sliding in besides the wooden dock that extended out over the island¡¯s edge.


    ¡°What does that matter?¡±


    ¡°The island¡¯s pull!¡± Hughe said, clearly agitated. ¡°We¡¯ll need to adjust against the pull of the island as we pass over it and doing that is hard enough without the crosswinds at the Edge!¡±


    While she didn¡¯t understand it enough to really know what that would mean, she could see the almost panic on his face and hear it in his voice and that caused her heart to race. Looking down at the deck below, the other sailors had also realised, and they were running this way and that to attend their stations.


    The wizard, too, was running, heading below decks though why she had no idea but could only hope it was to try and help.


    In the distance, the crack of a musket being fired had her craning her neck. It was followed by more shots, and she strained to see what was happening. Towards the gap in the palisade, there was a flurry of activity though it was too far away for her to make out details.


    Whatever it was, it had people in a tizzy.


    ¡°Get below!¡± Hughe snapped, jabbing a finger at the hatch. ¡°Below decks, while you can.¡±


    His fear was infectious, and she moved fast, slipping down through the hatch and gripping the rope rigging. She moved quickly, her thoughts not on the wind or the rain, or even the possibility of a fall and death.


    She thought of Brightcrest.


    If the ship was in danger, then so was he and he would be trapped in his quarters, unable to do anything to save himself. Better that he be loosed so that he could fly free and be safe.


    Erin reached the deck as the ship came alongside the island¡¯s edge. Her stomach lurched as the floor seemed to drop out beneath her and her knees buckled. She hit the deck hard, reached out to steady herself-then the world went askew.


    She slid across the deck, a heavy and fierce wind almost capsizing the ship as it dropped too fast, shedding weight as the ship¡¯s engine was forced to suddenly stop the descent, and instead reduce the ship¡¯s weight to stop it from crashing into the colony.


    The breath was forced from her lungs as she hit the starboard railings and she lay there, eyes wide with fear as a dozen heavy coils of rope that she had been piling up just a short while ago, came hurtling towards her.


    They hit her with more force than she felt was possible, crushing her back against the rail and then the weight lifted as those ropes were thrown up and over the railing to crash down to the mud choked streets below.


    Gasping for breath she gripped the rail with all her might, every ounce of willpower going into holding herself in place.


    The hull groaned, and wood splintered, the sudden shifting of forces too much as the winds buffeted the ship. Something cracked, the sound cutting through all other noise, and the foremast toppled over the side, smashing through the roof of a house below.


    An eagles cry ripped through the night and Erin¡¯s eyes went to the gryphon¡¯s quarters, the cry becoming a squeal of pain and distress.


    Hughe fell screaming from the crow¡¯s nest, arms windmilling as he went down. His cry cut off suddenly and tears sprang unbidden to Erin¡¯s eyes.


    Then the ship began to right itself, a mighty groan coming from the hull. Wood splintered and cracked; nails torn free as the ship twisted unnaturally. Smoke was rising from belowdecks, and panicked men were crying out for help.


    Pushing herself up, heedless of the pain of her protesting body, Erin scrambled for the gryphon¡¯s quarters with one goal in mind.


    To save Brightcrest.

 Chapter 8

    Smoke filled the corridors and chambers below decks as men scrambled to fight the fires that were springing up across the hull as the magic infused nodes of the ship¡¯s engine overloaded from the strain. Boiling water sprayed from burst pipes, and panic filled the air as men screamed, caught in the steam.


    Mathias pressed himself back into a doorway, arm raised to protect his face from the scalding steam. With his free hand, he grasped his wand, pulling it from the sheath on his belt. Runes glowed along its length at his touch, and he grunted the words of power before thrusting the wand out before him.


    Wind ripped through the corridor, cutting through the thick steam. It parted for just a moment, long enough for him to run before it swirled back into place behind him. His boot hit something, and he stumbled, glancing down at the blistered body of a sailor who raised a hand to him, skin sloughing off in wet strands.


    He grimaced at the stink of burned flesh and hesitated a moment longer than he should have, before reaching down to grasp the man¡¯s shirt. He dragged him, screaming, along the corridor. An act that forced him to waste mana keeping the spell active as he waved the wand fore and aft, dissipating the steam.


    Officer Letterford braced himself against the deck as he leaned in, throwing all his weight against the heavy wrench in his hands. His attempt at closing the valve to stop the flow of boiling water having little effect.


    Mathias dropped the injured man at his feet and shoved Officer Letterford out the way. The man cursed, hand falling to his rapier, but Mathias ignored him as he pointed the wand at the valve and cast a spell of sealing.


    The flow of water slowed to a trickle and then stopped entirely as the metal pipe closed around the damaged section. Another three words spoken, the runes blinking out on the wand, and Mathias pressed the burning tip to the metal, welding it closed as he shielded his eyes from the flame.


    ¡°Finally decided to help,¡± Officer Letterford snapped. ¡°About blasted time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m helping myself.¡± Mathias wiped a trembling hand down his face, calming his breathing as he released the spell and the burning tip of the wand returned to normal, undamaged by the heat or flame that had been there moments ago. ¡°What fool is flying this damned ship?¡±


    ¡°Choose your words with care, sir,¡± Officer Letterford said. He knelt beside the wounded man and grimaced before turning and shouting at a running sailor to come help. Then he looked back at Mathias. ¡°I¡¯ll not have you disrespect an officer of her majesty¡¯s navy.¡±


    ¡°Merchant navy,¡± the wizard¡¯s apprentice pointed out, smirking as the officer¡¯s face darkened. ¡°There¡¯ll be more damage to mend, and I can only assume you wish me to help further?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The word spoken through gritted teeth. ¡°Help where you can.¡±


    Mathias had the upper hand, and he knew it. His self-interest was strong, forcing him on as he pressed the advantage.


    ¡°Then I need access to Adept Carlyle¡¯s quarters.¡± He couldn¡¯t keep the smile from his face as Officer Letterford opened his mouth to protest. Mathias spread his hands and cocked his head to one side, fighting to keep his smirk from widening. ¡°I have not the mana to power my spells, nor the knowledge to fix the ships engine if it is damaged. I need the supplies and tomes she kept in her room.¡±


    The officer glared, but knew his options were limited. Many ships had a wizard onboard who could maintain the great engine that maintained their ability to navigate the void. The captain, however, had decided that since there would be not one, but two, wizards on the ship, there was no need to pay for one on crew.


    A costly mistake.


    Mark Letterford had always considered himself to be a man of duty, of honour, and above all else, of discipline. The Queen¡¯s laws were sacrosanct in his eyes, and he had punished many a crewman for breaking them.


    That he was being forced to break the law for the arrogant wizard was galling, and while his duty to the ship in her time of need was greater, he would have the wizard answer for forcing the issue.


    ¡°You press your luck, sir,¡± Officer Letterford said, stiffly. He pulled a ring of brass keys from a pocket of his coat and sorted through the quickly. He pulled off one that would unlock the wizard¡¯s quarters and tossed it at the mage who caught it deftly. ¡°Take only what you need, and I shall see you hanged for theft if you do not return every item back where you found it.¡±


    Mathias didn¡¯t reply, just stalked past the officer and sailor, leaving them to deal with their wounded mate. He made his way through the corridors of the ship, down another level to where their quarters were.


    Smoke filled the lower decks, and he had to use more of the wands charge to clear the air enough that he could make his way to the cabins without choking on the thick, black smoke. Men ran past with buckets of sand to douse flames, while those with injuries too great to allow them to continue, headed for the surgeon¡¯s offices.


    When he reached the cabins, he eagerly opened his teacher¡¯s door and pushed inside. There was no lamp already burning and he had neither the time nor the patience to waste, so he spoke a single word and bright white light flared on the tip of his wand.


    Holding it high, the small room was lit well enough for him to find the chest where she had stored her belongings. Throwing it open, he sorted quickly through the contents before pulling out a canvas bag filled with the technical tomes for the great engines, and that which contained the specifications and designs for his final apprentice piece.


    Next, he lifted out three small glass bottles filled with a golden liquid that glowed against his hand. Mana. The source of power for his magics and those that wrapped tight around the ship¡¯s engine.


    He slipped them into the bag with the books and let the chest close as he rose to his feet.


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    A smile formed on his lips as his eyes glittered with avarice. He had what he needed to complete the apprentice piece. But as the ship groaned beneath his feet, he hesitated. If the ship went down, he¡¯d never make it back to claim his reward. For all his talk of self-interest, survival came first.


    With his wand gripped tight, he headed back out into the corridors and went in search of the engine room.


    ****


    Erin clutched her side as she scrambled across the deck. It hurt to breathe, hurt to move, but her desperate need to help the gryphon urged her on. Black smoke rose from the cracked and broken decking, and she had to tread carefully for fear it would collapse beneath her.


    Fortunately, her slight build and small frame was a boon for once, and her weight was supported as she made it to the gryphon¡¯s quarters. She gripped the door handle and hesitated as the door shook, something heavy crashing against it.


    Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled it open and stepped inside.


    The room was filled with smoke, the racking and chests that contained their equipment had been thrown about the room, wood breaking and valuable, equipment smashed and torn beyond repair. Great gouges had been raked into the wooden floor and hull as the panicked gryphon strained to free itself.


    A thick chain was attached to his collar, connecting to an iron ring bolted firmly to the wall of the room. His wings were bound to his side by leather strapping, and a canvas hood covered his head. A necessity to keep him calm in foul weather, but of little use right then.


    ¡°E-Erin.¡± Her name was spoken with a weak voice, wheezy and gasping for breath.


    Geoffrey lay against the far wall, his body broken and battered. Blood covered his chest where the panicked gryphon¡¯s talon had drawn a crimson line, almost disembowelling him. The blood was pooling beneath him, and his ankle was bent inwards, broken beyond any but a wizard¡¯s power to fix.


    Without healing he would never walk on it again, but before that, she needed to stop the bleeding of his abdomen.


    Brightcrest reared, talons scoring the wall as he lashed out blindly. He too bore bruises and scrapes as he¡¯d been thrown around when the ship capsized. His neck was red raw beneath the collar, and she shuddered, understanding how the short chain would have strangled him as the ship lay on its side.


    ¡°Calm, boy,¡± she called, raising her hands though he couldn¡¯t see. He could hear her, she knew. ¡°Be calm, I¡¯m here to help you.¡±


    His screech was fearful and forlorn, and her heart wept for him, that magnificent creature bound so cruelly. Trapped and blind, when the world was thrown asunder.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to help you, my bright boy,¡± she cooed. ¡°Be calm, be still.¡±


    Please don¡¯t tear me to shreds, she added silently as she took a step towards him.


    He reared, skipping back away from her, but she continued to speak in soft tones, her voice low and calming as she took another step. The wooden decking cracked and splintered as his talons dug into the wood, gripping it as though holding on for dear life.


    ¡°Calm,¡± she repeated, again and again, focusing everything she had on keeping her voice steady when her breath rasped in her throat and every part of her body ached. ¡°Be still.¡±


    Fear gripped her, but not so much for herself, but for the magnificent creature before her. There was an ache in her breast at the sight of him so bound and hurt.


    Then she was beside him, and she reached out, whispering soft words as he shifted this way and that, head turning beneath the hood. She closed her hand around his harness, the collar slick with his blood, its scent metallic and sharp even above the smoke.


    Reaching up, she gripped the hood, ¡°Be calm, bright boy,¡± she whispered. ¡°It¡¯s me, only me.¡±


    Moving oh so slowly, she pulled free the hood, and a brilliant amber eye blinked at the light before focusing angrily on her. He reared, pulling back his head and hissing as she was lifted from her feet, holding tight to his harness.


    ¡°Bright, no!¡±


    He shook his body, screeching and she lost her grip, flying free to hit the foul-smelling straw covered decking, the breath driven from her lungs. Brightcrest reared up, talons flashing and she threw out her hands, fingers spread as though that was any protection.


    Bright¡¯s talons slammed into the deck beside her head, piercing the wood. His massive beak, nearly the size of her torso, halted inches from her face.


    Erin didn¡¯t scream as she felt her heartbeat hammering in her chest, her muscles locked in terror. Her instincts screamed at her to curl into a ball, to make herself small. But instead, she forced her breath out in slow, steady exhales and met his gaze, willing herself to be still.


    Though her hands trembled, and her bladder was moments from release with the terror of it.


    She met his stare.


    And he blinked, recognition returning as the panic faded from his eyes.


    Erin exhaled a soft sigh. When locked on prey, a gryphon never blinked. She was not prey to him.


    His great beak nudged her, gently and a soft warble escaped him, a cry for comfort and help. She rested her hand tentatively against his smooth beak, before rubbing it gently.


    ¡°I know, bright boy,¡± she breathed. ¡°I¡¯m here to help.¡±


    Breathing easier, fear fading and moving slowly, she climbed to her feet and reached for the knife at her belt. She glanced across at Geoffrey, torn with her need to help them both.


    ¡°G-go,¡± he said, lifting a bloodied hand to wave her back. ¡°Get him to safety and off this cursed ship.¡±


    She nodded, and reached for the leather straps binding his wings, brushing her hand across his broad shoulders to let him know she meant no harm. He turned his head, eyes fixed to her, burning with bright intelligence.


    He understood she was helping, she realised. Not only that, he trusted her to do so.


    Erin wasted no time trying to find the buckle and instead used her knife to saw through the soft leather. As soon as his wings were free, he reared, moving to unfurl them.


    ¡°No!¡± she cried. ¡°Wait! Not in here.¡±


    There was no room and his wings were powerful. It would be easy for him to send her crashing into the wall or, worse, to catch Geoffrey with them.


    Brightcrest paused, head pulling back as he twisted it back and forth, fighting the urge to stretch his wings. Erin¡¯s smile was radiant as she realised that once again, he not only understood, but he was also trying to obey her command.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered, reaching for the chain connected to his collar. She pulled the pin from the U-shaped metal shackle that connected the chain to the metal ring on his collar and the chain fell free.


    Taking his harness in her hand and moving slowly, she led him from the room. He ducked beneath the door frame and squawked happily as he stepped outside, even with the rain that was falling heavily.


    There was less smoke rising through the broken deck, Erin noted, and a few soot covered sailors were on deck, surveying the damage. The worst of it was over, but it was still not safe for Brightcrest to be on the ship.


    ¡°Help!¡± She cried and pointed with her free hand at the gryphon¡¯s quarters. ¡°Geoffrey¡¯s hurt.¡±


    Two of the sailors exchanged glances before running over. They gave her and the gryphon a wide berth, before ducking into the gryphon¡¯s quarters.


    Geoffrey would get the help he needed, she thought before turning her attention back to Brightcrest. Licking her lips she looked up into his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to climb up. Please be okay with that.¡±


    No response from Brightcrest, and she gripped the harness in both hands and with a wince of pain at the stabbing jolt to her side with the motion, she managed climb slowly up onto his back.


    Her legs fit naturally over the wing joint, as she sat on his broad shoulders. She could feel every movement of his powerful limbs as he took a careful step across the deck. He looked back, eyes fixed on her, and she realised with a shock that he was checking she was okay. That she wouldn¡¯t fall off with his movement.


    She smiled and leaned forward, patting his neck.


    Now, more than ever, she felt that bond between them. It was intangible, but it was there, like a chain connecting their souls. Absurd, she knew, but that¡¯s how it felt to her.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, reading the question in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m ready, my bright boy. Fly!¡±

 Chapter 9

    They came on fast, running on all fours, their broad shoulders and powerful arms pulling them forward across the tilled earth. Eyes, black pits in their shadowed forms, obsidian claws on the ends of their long fingers, and a lupine profile.


    ¡°Fire!¡± Sergeant Hayes cried, and the shots rang out, grey smoke from the muskets blown back towards the settlement. ¡°Reload!¡± he cried, and the ten men knelt, pouring powder into the barrels of their muskets and tamping down the shot.


    In barely twenty heartbeats, they had the butts of their muskets pressed against their shoulders as the sergeant raised his short sword into the air.


    ¡°Fire!¡±


    He chopped down with the blade and the first of the creatures stumbled, wounds too many to continue.


    But the others came on.


    The barracks doors were thrown open and the rest of the battalion came out, half-dressed and affixing bayonets to their muskets for when the creatures reached melee range.


    Sarah and her brother, Elias, raced past. Each carrying a rapier in one hand, and a cocked pistol in the other. The mud dragged at their boots, the cries of alarm from the common folk urging them on as the settlers ran for safety.


    A bronze bell began to ring, warning to all who could hear it.


    The Shadowbeasts were here.


    Sarah reached the line of men standing behind a barricade of heavy branches and stone. A temporary fix to bridge the gap in the palisade. Lamps had been lit at intervals in the fields beyond the walls, and as the Shadowbeasts breached the rings of light, she counted.


    ¡°Twenty-two!¡± she cried, to her brother. ¡°No! twenty-three!¡±


    The most they had faced before had been twelve, and that had cost them a handful of men.


    She brushed rain from her eyes and turned her body sideways, arm extended with pistol held steady. She aimed along the barrel as she put her finger to the trigger and exhaled a soft breath. Then, she pulled.


    Her pistol fired, smoke and fire bursting from the barrel and out in the darkness, she was sure she scored a hit. Elias fired beside her, and they both reached for their ammo pouches, the small leather satchel hanging from their belts, to reload.


    ¡°Coming close!¡± Elias said, voice steady and even, though the rapid rise and fall of his chest betrayed his nerves.


    ¡°Form ranks!¡± Sergeant Hayes shouted at the soldiers rushing to the barricade. ¡°Fire at will!¡±


    Shots rang out, a staccato beat as the men fired, reloaded and fired again.


    Another Shadowbeast fell. A third!


    Then they were at the palisade.


    The men raised their muskets like spears, the long bayonets pointed high as the monsters leapt, each as tall as a man, bulging with muscle and silent as the death they brought with them. Their clawed hands outstretched, reaching for the exposed flesh of the soldiers.


    Sarah slashed and hacked. There was no time for fancy swordplay, the creatures had no finesse, no delicate give and take. They were brutes. Slashing and biting, tearing at flesh as men cried out in fear and pain.


    Another Shadowbeast fell, and then another. Too slow, too few, as soldiers died. Elias fought methodically, wrist movements minimal as he revealed his skill with the blade in the simple, elegant movements, nothing wasted.


    Slashing her blade across the black eyes of a Shadowbeast, Sarah raised her pistol and fired. She had no time to reload, nor time to see if she had hit her target. She whirled to the next, her sword rising and falling, black blood spattered across her face as the beast collapsed.


    A soldier beside her died, sharp teeth tearing through his throat, his breath gurgling as his lungs filled with blood. She stabbed her blade deep into its side, and cursed as the blade stuck, lodged against bone.


    ¡°Sarah!¡± Elias called and she looked up as one of the beasts leapt at her. She had a moment to recoil, knowing that death had found her as she screamed.


    Then the beast was thrown a dozen feet, blood spurting from vicious wounds in its side, and Sarah gaped at the gryphon that pulled up out of the tight dive, a rider clinging to its back without saddle or safety harness.


    The gryphon banked sharply, rolling in the air and folding back its wings into a steep dive, taloned forelegs extended.


    A Shadowbeast was gripped tight and lifted ten feet into the air, black blood trailing out behind it, before the gryphon released it to fall, lifeless, to the ground.


    Sarah blinked, brow furrowing as she took in the unexpected sight. Then, with a shake of her head, she pulled free her blade and rejoined the fight.


    Up above, Brightcrest wheeled in a tight spiral, gaining height, ready to dive once more. Erin, almost giddy with exhilaration, clung on. Her heels were pressed to his sides, and her fingers numb from the cold where she gripped his collar.


    Wind tried to tear her from his back, as rain pelted them both, but she barely noticed. Below her, men were dying, and the creatures, whatever they were, were winning.


    ¡°Ready!¡± she called, and Brightcrest answered with a high-pitched cry of righteous fury.


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    Erin laughed. The gryphon was made for the fight, she thought, as eager to reach the enemy as she was. She shifted her weight left, and he stretched out his wings, catching the wind and gliding as he circled.


    She eyed the chaotic scene below, the creatures were milling, each scrambling over the next trying to reach the men who were using the reach of their muskets and long bayonets to keep them at bay, stabbing and thrusting as they held their line.


    ¡°There,¡± she breathed, eyeing a creature scrambling up the backs of the others as they bucked and twisted beneath it. ¡°Bright. Dive!¡±


    As though he knew exactly who she was aiming for, the gryphon twisted in the air, angling down and tucking his wings as he dived.


    Erin wanted to yell, to scream her joy. She wanted a weapon to help him fight!


    Down they went, picking up speed. Tears streamed from her eyes from the wind hitting her face, and her nose and cheeks were numb. Then Bright¡¯s wings swept out, talons lashing the creature, raking deep furrows in its hide, as he pulled up, and around they went again.


    A great crash sounded behind her and she twisted to look back over her shoulder.


    The ship was down, taking out a portion of the palisade and two houses. People were screaming, scrambling from their homes and running in all directions as it listed to starboard. Sailors grabbed anything they could, clinging on for dear life.


    Wood cracked, the ship groaned as it settled, the palisade bowing beneath the ships weight pressed against it. But it held.


    In the distance the bell stopped ringing.


    With a sigh, Erin turned her attention back to the fight below, but it was almost over. A small group of the creatures fought still, but most were down along with almost half the soldiers.


    A slim woman with a hard expression thrust with her sword and the last of the creatures fell. A weary cheer rising from the men who lived.


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± she called to Brightcrest, pressing her heels gently into his side. ¡°Time to land.¡±


    She recognised a raised platform as a launchpad for gryphons and wheeled Bright towards it. The gryphon¡¯s wings beat steadily against the wind, and he seemed to sense where she was aiming. He descended to land with a gentle thump, taking a few steps as he beat his wings, killing his forward momentum.


    Erin lay pressed against his back, feeling the warmth of his body as she shivered with the cold. Her clothes were sodden and her fingers had locked around his collar so tightly that it was a struggle for her to get them to release.


    Then she was free and almost falling as much as dismounting, to land awkwardly on the wooden platform beside the gryphon. She stroked his side as he turned to eye her with concern. Erin smiled wearily.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay, bright boy. You did good.¡±


    His forelegs were covered with a foul black blood, his feathers and fur soaked through with the rain. He shook himself, spraying her with water and she laughed, covering her face against the spray.


    ¡°You there!¡±


    Erin turned at the imperious tone of voice demanding her attention. The women she had seen battling the strange creatures was marching towards her. She walked with back straight and chin high, her beauty undeniable, though cold, with eyes blazing as she regarded Erin.


    Beside her, came a man wearing slim spectacles, and an aesthetic demeanour at odds with the blood that caked his hands, and the sword hanging at his waist.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Erin,¡± she said, ducking her head. ¡°Erin Coffyn¡­ ah¡­ milady,¡± she guessed.


    ¡°You¡¯re no Rider, why were you on this creature?¡± She gestured to the ship grounded behind Erin. ¡°What happened to the blasted ship?¡±


    ¡°Sister, calm,¡± the man said, laying a hand gently against his sister¡¯s arm. He offered a smile to Erin as he studied her. ¡°We owe her thanks, not interrogation.¡±


    ¡°What were those creatures?¡± Erin blurted, and then blushed, cheeks heating. ¡°Sorry, my lord.¡±


    Elias waved away her apology. ¡°No offence was taken; I can assure you. We are¡­ informal here.¡± He smiled as though at some joke only he knew. ¡°We have neither the time nor the inclination for such matters.¡±


    ¡°Foolishness,¡± Sarah said. ¡°You know as well as I do, brother. Such things do matter.¡±


    ¡°Another time.¡± Elias¡¯s eyes flicked towards her and then back, a touch of warning in his tone. He was in charge, though Erin guessed their sibling bond made such things awkward. ¡°Thank you, for your help. It was timely and most welcome.¡±


    Sarah tilted her head, acknowledging that, at least. ¡°Yes, our thanks.¡± She lifted a hand to gesture at the ship. ¡°Now, what in the nine hells happened to the ship!¡±


    Erin was an apprentice. She knew that, as much as she knew that she¡¯d had only minimal interaction with those above Geoffrey and never with a lord or lady. Such folk were far beyond her level and so, with halting words and cheeks crimson, she explained what had happened on the ship.


    The two nobles listened intently. Both had other business to be about and there were men wounded and dying that they needed to check on. Sergeant Hayes was seeing to the defence, but that too was something they were duty bound to tend to, rather than leave it in the hands of a subordinate.


    But they listened, and when she reached the part where she told of the ship being too high and needing to quickly correct before they were dashed against the rocky shore, they exchanged a silent look that spoke volumes.


    ¡°Very well,¡± Elias said when she finished. ¡°I should best see to their needs.¡± He turned to Sarah. ¡°Sister, I trust you can find a place for this brave young lady.¡±


    ¡°For Bright,¡± Erin said, and gulped as two frowns were turned on her for the interruption. She bobbed her head in quick apology. ¡°Sorry, sorry. I need to check him over and tend his wounds, then brush him down.¡±


    Elias cocked a brow at that, a smile tugging at his lips. He looked at his sister who regarded the girl thoughtfully, arms folded and one hand stroking her chin. ¡°I shall leave their care to you, sister.¡±


    With that he gave a slight bow to both Erin and Brightcrest, before striding away towards the crowd of people gathering around the fallen ship. Sailors had thrown down rope ladders and were clambering down them to the ground.


    With a gulp, Erin turned her attention back to the noblewoman who regarded her sternly.


    ¡°This gryphon was not for you,¡± she said, arching one brow.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Erin said, her voice shaky as she appeared close to tears. Bright, hearing the distress, turned and nuzzled her gently, which still knocked the slight girl sideways. She had to shift her weight to keep from falling. She reached up, though, stroking his cheek beside his beak as he chirped softly, enjoying the attention.


    Sarah noted the interaction and sighed.


    ¡°You have bonded.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. ¡°I should have realised from seeing you fly together.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t intentional,¡± Erin murmured. ¡°I swear. Nor was it Geoffrey¡¯s fault. Please don¡¯t tell the guild it was!¡±


    Sarah regarded her, face impassive though she was impressed that the young woman¡¯s concern was for her master, and not herself. Guild law was strict on such matters, only a Rider could take flight with a gryphon and for good reason.


    There were years of training before an apprentice would have the chance, and even then, if they were unable to form a bond with a gryphon they would lose their place in the guild. There was no use for a gryphon rider who couldn¡¯t ride.


    She, herself, had tried three gryphons¡¯ before establishing a bond with Greyquill, and there were girls who had trained for years desperate for the chance to try. Including one that Sarah had been training and for whom the gryphon before her had been intended.


    ¡°It is done,¡± she muttered, shaking her head, weary beyond words. Whatever energy she¡¯d had left, had been used in the fight, and it was only the battle thrill that had kept her going. But with that fading, exhaustion clawed at her, threatening to drag her down.


    Erin lifted her head, looking up at the noblewoman, unsure of what she meant.


    ¡°Gather your gryphon, girl,¡± Sarah said. ¡°And follow me to the roost.¡±


    For a moment Erin didn¡¯t understand and then it hit her, what the noblewoman had said. To gather ¡®her¡¯ gryphon.


    She looked up into Bright¡¯s eyes, a surge of fierce joy flaring in her breast.


    He was hers!

 Chapter 10

    Mathias slumped against the wall, breathing in the hot air as he tugged at the collar of his robes. The engine hummed in the centre of the small room, bronze piping coiled around it before rising to the ceiling and then spreading like the branches of a tree, to thread through the ship.


    He squinted, looking the machine over critically, reading the bright runes that ran endlessly around its body. Those runes were the words of the spells that allowed the engine to function, and powered by mana, it kept the ship afloat.


    Copper wires ran from the engine¡¯s base into the deck, spreading out to the seventy-two nodes affixed to the ship¡¯s hull. There was a complicated set of levers and buttons in the control room of the ship that allowed the crew to control the power to those nodes, allowing the ship to rise and fall as they willed it.


    Mathias had checked each and every one of them, repairing several that had overheated from the strain as the ship had crossed over the edge of the island and the crew had tried to too rapidly decrease the weight of the ship before the island¡¯s pull could smash it against the shore.


    It was they that had been the source of the smoke and fires throughout the ship and it had taken every ounce of magic he had to keep the engine running.


    And it had exhausted him.


    With a groan, he picked up the wand from where it lay on the floor beside him. A few runes glowed dully, but there was not enough charge in the wand for him to bother attempting another spell.


    He slid the wand into its sheath, and with another groan, pushed himself to his feet. The body of a sailor lay on the wooden floor on the far side of the engine. One of those ships ¡®engineers¡¯ whose task it was to keep the machine fed with mana and relieve pressure as needed.


    By the burns that covered most of his body, he¡¯d neglected his safety gear before touching the engine.


    ¡°Not my concern,¡± Mathias told himself, though he grimaced at the thought.


    Moving slowly, he made his way through the bowels of the ship and up through the levels until he came out onto the centre deck. He paused there, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air, heedless of the rain.


    His robes were filthy, scorched. His skin blackened by soot and ash, and his throat was dry and raw. Too much smoke below decks, he knew.


    Sailors were clustered by the rail, rope coiled in their hands as they lowered a stretcher with the body of a man wrapped firmly in blankets lying upon it. Not the first, nor the last, Mathias noted.


    The sailors looked as exhausted as he felt, and while they had their work to do, he had business of his own to see to. He ignored their black looks as he brushed past them to the rope ladder affixed to the rail.


    He climbed down, hand over hand, legs trembling from the strain. Safely at the bottom, he stood with hands on hips and surveyed the chaos.


    Lamps had been lit, bathing the area in a flickering orange glow, and the ship had crushed two small houses beneath it as it landed. Men were digging through the wreckage, searching for survivors while a woman in plain white linen was crouched beside a man on a stretcher as she talked with the ship¡¯s surgeon.


    Everyone seemed to be talking or shouting at the same time, a cacophony of voices that overlaid everything. Mathias couldn¡¯t work out individual voices or words as it all blended into one.


    There was mud underfoot, worsening with every minute of rain, and men carried stretchers bearing the wounded off into the maze of streets between the ramshackle houses. The stink of burned oil was everywhere as men and women fought the darkness with lanterns.


    Mathias sneered, lips twisting at that. A sure sign he was as far from civilisation as he would ever hope to get.


    A stern looking man with bloodied hands and clothes, stood amongst a group that included two of the ship¡¯s officers. He was listening to them speak, interrupting to issue orders that sent some of the settlers running to obey.


    Lord Browett, Mathias decided. The man he needed to speak to.


    Fighting back the weariness, he set his jaw and made his way through the crowd towards the young lord.


    When he reached the group, Officer Ballard was speaking. A sour looking woman with a lazy eye and a scar across her lip from some pirate¡¯s sword that had given her a permanent sneer. She was the only officer on the crew who had not purchased her commission, and it showed in her manner of speech and attitude.


    ¡°Nay!¡± she snapped, waving a hand up at the hull of the ship that towered above the settlement. ¡°The ship is grounded until the captain says otherwise.¡±


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Then have your captain come down here and tell me that himself,¡± Lord Browett answered, calmly.


    ¡°My lord,¡± Officer Letterford said before Ballard could speak. She clamped her mouth shut angrily, cheeks heating. ¡°That is something we must discuss in private. For now, be assured that Officer Ballard, and myself, speak with his voice.¡±


    Elias studied the two officers for a long moment, lips pursed, before he came to his decision. A quick bob of his head, and he said, ¡°Very well. Later then, when matters are calmer. We have time at least for that.¡±


    The wizard frowned, not understanding the meaning behind the lord¡¯s words, but held his tongue. Timing would be crucial if he wanted the lord¡¯s ear. He would have but the one chance to make his case, and he needed to choose that moment carefully.


    Ideally, he thought eyeing Letterford, when the ship¡¯s officers weren¡¯t around.


    ¡°Your wounded are being taken to the House of Healing,¡± Elias continued. ¡°Prepare a list of your needs and bring it to me. I shall ensure they are taken care of.¡±


    ¡°Our thanks, my lord,¡± Letterford said, bowing his head. ¡°That will be appreciated.¡±


    ¡°I will expect a full report of your journey,¡± Elias added sternly. ¡°But first, I must speak with Wizard Carlyll.¡±


    The two officers exchanged a look that Elias noticed immediately, hir brow furrowing and eyes flashing with sudden concern.


    ¡°My lord,¡± Mathias said, pushing through the small crowd around the young lord. ¡°Adept Carlyll perished on the journey.¡±


    Elias¡¯s gaze snapped onto the apprentice wizard, as his face lost what little colour had been there. For a moment, he looked utterly bereft, before he quickly forced his face to stillness.


    ¡°You are?¡±


    ¡°Her apprentice, Mathias Thorne.¡± He attempted a small bow, needing to elbow some of those closer people out of his way to do so. ¡°While she is lost to you, in truth the task you commissioned was to be completed by me, and I humbly offer my services.¡±


    ¡°Here now,¡± Officer Letterford said, reaching to grab the wizard¡¯s arm. ¡°Away with your nonsense.¡±


    Elias held up a hand. ¡°Let him speak.¡± He fixed Mathias with a stern look. ¡°You would do well to be truthful with me. If you are not capable of this task, speak now.¡±


    The apprentice pulled his arm from Letterford¡¯s grasp and rubbed his bicep where he¡¯d been gripped. The officer¡¯s grip had been like iron!


    ¡°I can, my lord.¡± He lifted his chin, pridefully. ¡°Six years as an apprentice, four of those learning from Adept Carlyll, of the Order of Arcanum. My final apprentice piece to be completed before I could ascend to the Order, was your commission.¡±


    ¡°If she were here, she¡¯d be overseeing me, as I did the work. But she¡¯s not, and I can still to the job.¡± Mathias smiled grimly. ¡°I will not fail you, my lord.¡±


    ****


    Elias Browett was not a foolish man, nor one given to flights of fancy. He was grounded in the day-to-day care of his duties and the people who relied upon him. That task took up every moment of his waking time, and it was a task he did not take lightly.


    There was entirely too much depending upon it.


    Hearing of the death of the wizard had dashed his hopes of the settlement succeeding. With the ship damaged and in clear need of repair, there was no telling when it would be ready to make the return journey to Ratan.


    A journey that would take three months, six for it to pick up a new wizard and make the long trip back to Rockshore.


    That was many months more than the settlement had left.


    He was out of options, and hope was a resource long depleted. He saw that every day in the faces of his people and heard it in the night when they cried out in fear as the Shadowbeasts prowled.


    Elias was bone weary, the weight of his responsibilities, his duties, crushing him. But despite that, he would not set them aside. He refused to give up, because duty was all he had left to cling to. Everything else was gone.


    The young wizard before him was arrogant, and prideful, he knew. He could see it in the way he stood, the way he held himself. The dark looks the ship¡¯s officers were giving the wizard told Elias that he was a man who cared little about being liked.


    Which might be enough.


    Someone arrogant enough to believe he could do the impossible.


    ¡°Very well,¡± Elias said. ¡°You understand the task.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Mathias¡¯s hand tapped the canvas bag as Letterford¡¯s lips pressed in a tight line when he caught the motion. ¡°I have everything I need.¡±


    ¡°Those are not his, my lord,¡± Officer Letterford said, stepping forward. ¡°They are the personal belongings of Wizard Carlyll and, as such, we are required to return them.¡±


    Elias nodded thoughtfully, eyes flicking between the two men. There was history there, and distrust, along with a great deal of dislike.


    ¡°I am the arbiter of the queen¡¯s laws in these lands,¡± Elias said, speaking clearly and loudly. ¡°I will take responsibility, and you can consider yourself, and your ship, released of the burden of returning these items.¡±


    Officer Letterford stood stiffly, expression sour, but he made a crisp salute, hand flat against his temple and stepped back, seething. Mathias flashed a grin, and it was Elias¡¯s turn to step in close, lowering his voice.


    ¡°Do not think that I do this for any reason other than necessity. Compose yourself and remember your position.¡±


    Mathias¡¯s smile slipped away, and he forced his face to stillness. Elias eyed him for a moment before giving a curt nod. He looked around the crowd, taking in the dark looks being passed between the sailors and the officers both.


    Whatever the wizard had done, he¡¯d managed to anger them all. With tensions high, that could lead to an accident he couldn¡¯t risk happening.


    ¡°You will be my guest tonight,¡± he said, stepping back. ¡°We have much to discuss before you begin.¡±


    ¡°I shall prove my worth, my lord.¡±


    ¡°You will have to,¡± Elias said. ¡°You have three months to complete it.¡±


    Mathias¡¯s mouth hung open as he stared, wide-eyed at the young lord. Three months was a ridiculous timeframe. He would need five at the very least, eight at most.


    ¡°My lord¡­¡±


    ¡°In the morning,¡± Elias said, turning his attention to the next man seeking it. ¡°Get some sleep, you will need it.¡±


    Mathias just stared. He didn¡¯t see the smirk that flashed onto Letterford¡¯s face, and he wouldn¡¯t have noticed if he had. His mind was awhirl, the lord¡¯s words swimming around his mind endlessly.


    Even Adept Carlyll would have struggled with such a task. Three months? Impossible. Unless¡­ there was a reason.


    Whatever it was, it was grave enough to ask the impossible.


    Mathias turned and glanced up at the ship. He thought back to the stern deck, the sudden panic of the crew as the island came into view and they realised they were off course, their altitude too high.


    Something that should never have happened. Not with an experienced crew.


    He tapped his lip with one dirt-streaked finger and began to hum, his mind working through the problem.

 Chapter 11

    Erin awoke with a start, blinking at the sudden light that filled the room. Standing beside the window, curtains in hand, was a girl around her age. Mousey brown hair, and a narrow face, she wore plain grey trousers and coat with expensive leather riding boots.


    ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡±


    ¡°I am now.¡± Erin rubbed at her eyes and yawned. Every part of her body ached from the shipwreck and the flight as she gripped tight to Bright¡¯s back. ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡°Well past dawn.¡±


    Not entirely helpful, Erin thought. She threw off the blankets and swung her legs out over the side of the bed. Wearing only a borrowed night shirt, she could see every bruise and scratch on her limbs.


    ¡°I need to check on Bright.¡±


    ¡°Josias will take care of him,¡± the girl said, primly. ¡°It is his job.¡±


    Mine too, she thought, and grimaced. The girl seemed put out with her and she had no idea why since she had only just met her.


    ¡°I¡¯m Erin,¡± she said, in the hopes of mending whatever fences had been broken.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Rising from the bed, Erin looked around for her clothes, frowning. The room she¡¯d slept in was small, and narrow. A space above the main house intended for a child. Though there were neither toys nor decorations she¡¯d have expected, and the only furniture a narrow bed and a well-made wardrobe that someone had spent a great deal of time and care building.


    But it was empty.


    ¡°Your clothes are drying downstairs,¡± the girl said, turning towards the door. She lifted a hand and crooked a finger over her shoulder. ¡°Come.¡±


    Erin pressed her lips together and tried to ignore that it had sounded very much like someone calling a dog after them. She was a stranger and a guest in the house, and while she might lack the manners of the highborn, her mother had raised her well enough.


    She followed after the girl, head turning this way and that as she took in everything around her. The house was built of timber, the walls whitewashed but otherwise bare. The furniture she saw was well made, though most lacked the care and detail lavished on the wardrobe.


    The kitchen was warm, the smell of woodsmoke and fresh baked bread lingering in the air. A large stone hearth dominated one wall, its iron grate supporting a blackened kettle, while a hooked arm, adjustable with a chain, held a bubbling pot of porridge over the embers. A brick oven sat beside it, still radiated the warmth of the morning¡¯s baking.


    Hanging from the beams above were bundles of dried herbs-sage, thyme, rosemary-tied with twine, their scent mingling with that of the bread and smoke. A wooden table, well-worn and deeply scarred with knife marks, stood at the centre of the room, serving as both a workspace and a dining surface.


    Against one wall, a wide wooden shelf held an array of clay and pewter plates, wooden bowls, and earthenware jugs. Beneath it, a long bench contained sacks of grain, wheels of hard cheese, and a small keg of salted pork.


    A ginger haired cat sat before the hearth, washing herself, while a tall man with stubbled face bearing his long years beneath grey hairs, sat tamping tobacco into his pipe. He looked up when Erin came through the door, pale, watery eyes studying her.


    His wife, a woman of middle-years, spooned porridge into a carved wooden bowl and set it on the table beside an open chair. She beamed as she placed thick slices of bread on a plate beside a nob of butter.


    ¡°Sit, dear,¡± she said, her voice filled with warmth.


    Erin did as instructed, staring around at the kitchen, lost in the familiar smells of her childhood. Three months on the ship, she had almost forgotten what it was like to sit with those she loved in a warm kitchen, to share a meal.


    ¡°There¡¯s no coffee, lass,¡± the man said, his voice gruff but not unwelcoming. ¡°Not till they unload the ship, anyways. Tea will have to do.¡±


    ¡°That would be fine,¡± Erin said, smiling her thanks.


    ¡°Mary?¡± He looked at the girl who lingered beside the door. ¡°There¡¯s plenty if you¡¯re hungry.¡±


    ¡°My thanks, Goodman Thomas, but I have eaten.¡± She turned to the woman. ¡°Though, I would be pleased to have share a cup of tea while I wait, Mistress Maud.¡±


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    ¡°Of course, of course.¡± Mistress Maud bustled about the kitchen, lifting the kettle from the fire and pouring boiling water into a clay teapot.


    The teapot was set in the centre of the table, and four porcelain teacups and saucers were placed ever so carefully beside it. Simpler clay cups hung from pegs on the wall, and Erin realised that the woman had brought out treasured items for her guest.


    Silence settled around the table, broken only by the clatter of the cups against saucers as Mistress Maud filled them with a rich, brown, tea. Erin smiled, nervously, aware that all eyes were on her and she spooned porridge into her mouth, burning her tongue!


    Thomas chuckled as she coughed, eyes watering as she swallowed the too hot porridge. Maud smiled as nervously as Erin had.


    ¡°Blow on it, dear. It¡¯s fresh from the pot.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Mary simply smiled and sipped her tea.


    Erin blew on the next spoonful of porridge before putting it into her mouth and managed not to burn herself again. Beside her, Thomas struck a match.


    ¡°Thomas Cobham, don¡¯t you dare light that pipe in here.¡± Maud fixed her husband with a stern look, and he grumbled, but shook the match until the flame went out, trailing acrid smelling smoke.


    ¡°My house too, woman. A man should be able to smoke in his own home.¡±


    ¡°Aye, well, that man can smoke outside and save us all the foul odour.¡±


    Grumbling beneath his breath, Thomas pushed back his chair and stood. He tipped his head towards Erin, hand brushing his forelock, before he departed, heading out into the sunshine. Mistress Maud smiled, her hands turning the cup in her hand nervously.


    ¡°Sorry, dear.¡±


    ¡°Not a worry,¡± Erin said, smiling. ¡°Reminds me of being at home with my ma and da.¡±


    ¡°Your accent,¡± Maud said, tilting her head. ¡°Northern, I think.¡±


    Erin nodded. ¡°Stagwood,¡± she said. ¡°A village on the edge of Moonhall.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Maud smiled. ¡°We came from Fallgrove, the idea of settling here was an adventure. A new land, fertile and ripe for a fresh start.¡±


    ¡°Fresh start?¡±


    ¡°After our daughter¡­¡± Maud trailed off and turned her head, looking away for a moment to compose herself. She swallowed hard and forced a smile. ¡°Anyway, we decided to come out for the adventure.¡±


    ¡°More fool us,¡± Mary whispered, but Maud heard and shushed her, shaking her head.


    The talk turned to the ship and the crash as the two of them questioned Erin. It soon became clear that they were more interested in news from back home, and Erin spoke at length about it, and the looming threat of war that had everyone on edge.


    It was a sour subject, and she bypassed the worst of the gloom, turning instead to the latest fashions in the city. Yorwich was a city full of life, and during the summer months, there were endless balls amongst the nobility, and the wealthy.


    For the common folk, there were dances and festivals, music and theatre. Wizards created illusions in accompaniment to the stories told by bards, those folk who travelled between the islands spreading news and gathering tales.


    She told of the birth of the queen¡¯s grandson, her first grandchild, to her eldest daughter Isabell, and how strange it would be to have a king, after three generations of queens. She spoke of the boat race along the River Aln, and the opening of a new hospital in the poorer quarters of the city where even the most destitute citizens could find aid.


    It was a time of change, and wonder, with the artificers coming out with new ideas and contraptions almost weekly. The wizards creating endless wonder for their amusement, and to make life that little bit better for the people of Ratan.


    By the time she was done, her tea was finished and the porridge a distant memory. Maud had listened, entranced, and even Mary had thawed her chill a little as she listened to the gossip from back home.


    ¡°Thank you, dear,¡± Maud said, dusting her hands and rising to clear away the cups. ¡°Now, be off and about your business. You have much to do, I¡¯m sure. There will be dinner waiting when you return.¡±


    ¡°Return?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re staying here for a time,¡± Mary said. ¡°Until quarters can be arranged. Goodman Thomas, and Mistress Maud volunteered their spare room.¡±


    ¡°We heard what you did,¡± Maud said. ¡°Fighting those beasts and saving, Lady Sarah¡¯s life. A bed to sleep in and a belly full of food is too little to repay your bravery, but it¡¯s what he have.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Erin didn¡¯t know what else to say.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Mary said, rising. ¡°Let¡¯s get your dressed.¡±


    Erin followed Mary into the washroom where her clothes were hung above a fireplace. There were still damp, but not so much so to bother her and she was eager to go and see Bright. She dressed quickly, aware of Mary watching her, eyes tracing the bruises and marks upon her body.


    ¡°He was mine,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°I should hate you for taking him.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°The gryphon.¡±


    Erin¡¯s eyes widened. Of course, the gryphon had been meant for someone. She should have realised the young girl before her dressed in similar colours to Lady Sarah, would be a Rider too.


    ¡°I-I didn¡¯t¡­ ah¡­ It wasn¡¯t on purpose,¡± she stammered. ¡°Bonding with, Bright.¡±


    Mary simply nodded, folding her arms. ¡°I watched you, you know?¡±


    ¡°You did?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I was hiding above the roost when the Shadowbeasts attacked. I saw you fly.¡± Her voice took on a touch of wonder. ¡°You were amazing. It was amazing.¡±


    It was, Erin thought. It really was.


    ¡°I should hate you,¡± Mary repeated. ¡°But I don¡¯t think I can.¡±


    Erin managed a smile. ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t be friends though. I can¡¯t hate you, but I can¡¯t be your friend either.¡±


    Which saddened Erin, hurting her heart a little. She was shy, and quiet, taking a long time to get to know people well enough to be friends. As a result, she¡¯d had few throughout her life, and for Mary to be deciding straight away that they could not be friends, when they had so much in common¡­ it hurt her.


    But she could understand it.


    She¡¯d flown.


    And she¡¯d taken that chance away from Mary. Her words hurt her, but she understood them, and she knew, somehow, that Mary didn¡¯t want an explanation or sympathy. She was hurt, and envious, and no doubt felt betrayed.


    No words from Erin would change that.


    Nor would knowing the guilt and contrition that Erin felt. She knew that in Mary¡¯s place, it would not help her. Little would. All she could do was understand and move on. There was no undoing it, regardless.


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said, rising. ¡°Show me where my gryphon is.¡±

 Chapter 12

    The mood in the settlement was sombre as the populace went about their daily tasks while the huge ship loomed over them. Crewmen were working with the settlements carpenters to brace the ship, using logs that had been destined for the palisade, in an attempt to stop it from shifting and toppling over.


    Chickens roamed the small gardens behind the houses, while dogs stood watch. Women tended the gardens or hung clothes on washing lines. The sound of a smith¡¯s hammer on metal floated above the general noise of a settlement at work.


    Mud pulled at Erin¡¯s boots as she walked, and cats were everywhere, hunting birds or sunning themselves on the eaves of houses she passed.


    Mary led the way towards the gap in the palisade where the fight had taken place the night previous, and as curious as Erin was about the creatures the soldiers had been fighting, she bit her tongue, sensing that her guide was in no mood to talk.


    At the barricade, Lady Sarah stood, hands on hips as she oversaw the men dragging away great fearsome beasts. She gaped at them. Their long limbs ending in all too human-like hands tipped with claws. Their lupine faces reminded her of dogs.


    Broad of shoulder and narrow of waist, the legs were short and bowed, ending in human-like feet. Their skin was rough, almost like scales, and a grey so dark it was almost black. Sightless eyes stared at her as one of the creatures was dragged away by two men, dark pits of absolute black that made her shiver.


    ¡°What are they?¡± she asked, without thinking, and looked guiltily at Mary, who shrugged.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡±


    Sarah turned at their approach, smoothing her expression and managing a smile, though it was strained.


    ¡°Good morning, ladies.¡± She waved at the men moving the beasts. ¡°We shall be done here shortly.¡±


    She turned back to watching the men work, and Erin exchanged a brief look with Mary, who gave the smallest shrug of her shoulders and turned to look out through the gap in the palisade.


    Sensing the smallest thawing in Mary¡¯s demeanour, Erin leaned in close, keeping her voice low as she cast anxious glances at the back of Lady Sarah.


    ¡°Will more of them attack?¡±


    ¡°Not for a few days,¡± Mary replied without turning her head to look at Erin. ¡°Usually come every four to six days.¡±


    Which was strange behaviour and something Erin had never heard of any creatures doing before. There had been plenty of tales of the Wall, and the islands that floated there filled with all manner of creatures from a thousand different realms, all thrown together and clustered on the edge of the void by the Shattering.


    But she had never heard of the likes of these Shadowbeasts.


    Despite their obvious weariness, the soldiers worked hard, hauling away the dead creatures. The men wore red coats facings on cuffs, lapels and collars in regimental colours, with brass buttons. Shirts of white linen with a high collar, and grey trousers with long black gaiters that covered the knee.


    A tall, black, cylindrical cap with a brass badge affixed to the front and a leather cross belt that held their bayonet and leather ammunition satchel at their hip. Each man bore a musket that they had set aside while they worked.


    Many of them bore bandages covering minor wounds taken in the fight, and there was no laughter or banter as they worked, just the grim expressions of men who knew their fight was not done.


    Erin shivered, seeing an acceptance of their fate in their expressions; a deep-seated knowledge that they would not win but they would fight on regardless.


    ¡°They look so sad,¡± she murmured, and Mary turned to glance quizzically at her. She followed Erin¡¯s gaze to the soldiers and shrugged again.


    ¡°Every beast they kill will return, while their numbers only drop with each fight.¡± Her voice was filled with bitterness. ¡°This place is cursed, why would they know joy?¡±


    A frown marred Erin¡¯s forehead as she took that in, wondering what Mary meant by that. How could they return? And if they did, that would explain the soldier¡¯s grim fatalism. They were fighting a battle they could never win as they saw their mates fall beside them.


    ¡°Enough, Mary,¡± Lady Sarah said without looking around. ¡°Go and help Josias. Inform him we shall be along shortly.¡±


    ¡°Yes, milady,¡± Mary said, offering a slight bow before turning and heading away without a backwards glance.


    Erin watched her go and then went back to watching the soldiers. A barrel-chested man, head shaved bald, the only hair the thick mutton chops on either side of his face, approached. He saluted Lady Sarah, and stood to attention in front, and just to the left of her, as he waited for her response.


    ¡°At ease, sergeant.¡±


    ¡°Yes, milady.¡±


    His stance didn¡¯t change, or at least Erin couldn¡¯t see it if it did.


    ¡°The dead?¡±


    ¡°Waiting at the Edge.¡± He hesitated. ¡°Will his lordship be attending?¡±


    Sarah inclined her head. ¡°He shall, as will I.¡±


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    The sergeant¡¯s eyes flicked to Erin and then back to Lady Sarah. ¡°The men will be heartened.¡±


    Lady Sarah¡¯s smile was sad, her eyes reflecting her sorrow. ¡°The final tally?¡±


    ¡°Five dead, three will not be fit to fight for some time, and six wounded to the point of light duty only.¡± Another hesitation, tongue darting out to lick his lips before he continued. ¡°Two missing.¡±


    There was no immediate response other than a slight stiffening of her posture, and then Sarah inclined her head, acknowledging the words.


    ¡°Very well, sergeant. Once you have finished here, find Cartwright and have him finish this palisade.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve four days at least, milady.¡± Sergeant Hayes glanced up at the large presence on the edge of the settlement. ¡°There¡¯s a need to secure the ship first before it capsizes.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t,¡± Lady Sarah said firmly. ¡°The sailors know what they are doing and will finish that themselves. I want this palisade finished. Do I make myself understood?¡±


    Sergeant Hayes stiffened, eyes flashing, but snapped a smart salute. ¡°Aye, milady.¡±


    Without another word, Lady Sarah turned away, dismissing the sergeant who went back to shouting at his men. She approached Erin and gathered her up with a glance, storming along through the mud-choked streets as Erin hurried along behind.


    ¡°Keep up, girl,¡± Sarah snapped without looking back at the struggling Erin.


    Easy for her to say, Erin thought. Yesterday¡¯s aches and pains were catching up with her and despite the hot breakfast, she found her energy flagging as she fought the thick mud. But, with the thought of seeing Brightcrest fixed firmly in her thoughts, she pushed on.


    Soon they came to the Roost, a wide, round building of wood and stretched hide that formed a tall dome. There was a wide ramp leading up to an arched opening that had large leather flaps in place of a door.


    Inside, the darkness was broken by the soft glow of lumina orbs sat in bronze sconces hanging from the wooden frame. Straw covered the floor, with two large piles at opposite sides of the chamber for the gryphons to sleep upon.


    Bloody bones littered the floor, the remnants of the gryphon¡¯s breakfast, and leather harnesses and saddles hung from rails beside the entranceway. There was a strong odour to the place, not entirely unpleasant, but musky and almost overpowering.


    A few grey feathers lay amongst the straw, fallen from the grey wings of the gryphon that Lady Sarah marched straight towards.


    Smaller than Brightcrest, though not by much, still as large as any horse that Erin had seen. Her head was sharply defined, a raptor-like skull with keen, amber eyes and a hooked beak that could tear through flesh with ease. Tufts of feathers extended from the back of her heard, offering a slight resemblance to that of an eagle or a hawk.


    The body was lion-like with thick, layered feathers that insulated the forequarters, providing natural armour, before transitioning into sleek, feline hindquarters.


    Her wings were enormous, the span longer than Bright¡¯s by about a foot. They would be capable of rapid turns and powerful bursts of speed, when she beat them. Making her faster, perhaps, than Bright, which rankled at Erin for some reason she couldn¡¯t immediately understand.


    The front limbs were raptor¡¯s talons, with curved, razor-sharp claws, while the hind legs were feline but elongated, with powerful haunches that allowed her to leap into flight. Her tail was long, whip-like, and tipped with a fan of stiff feather aiding her balance and mid-air manoeuvrability.


    She was fearsome to look at, her colouring tending to grey, which was where she came by her name, while Bright¡¯s feathers were black, with a green shimmer as they caught the sunlight.


    Lady Sarah stroked Grey¡¯s neck as Erin hurried over to where Bright lay curled upon his pillow of hay, wings folded and head lifting to watch her as she came. She didn¡¯t hesitate to approach, reaching out to run her hand across his beak as he pressed it towards her, chirping happily.


    Mary stood stone-faced beside an older man, Josias. He scratched his stubbled chin and then ran his hand over his bald dome. The little hair he had, was greying, and circled his head, but had deserted the top.


    ¡°He likes you,¡± Lady Sarah said, rubbing Grey¡¯s beak as her gryphon leaned her head against Sarah¡¯s chest, seeking affection. ¡°That¡¯s good. The bond is strongest when there is love, rather than just respect.¡±


    Erin had no idea if that were true, and she was just happy that Bright seemed to share the affection she had for him. She smiled happily as she rubbed his beak, whispering soft words to him.


    ¡°You¡¯ve flown already, but without saddle,¡± Lady Sarah continued. ¡°Which is good, for there is little time for training.¡± She turned her head to look back at the handler. ¡°Josias, the saddles, if you please.¡±


    ¡°Yes, milady,¡± Josias said, bobbing his head. He nudged Mary with his elbow and went for Grey¡¯s saddle.


    With a sour look, Mary lifted a second saddle and threw it over her shoulder before heading over towards Erin. She flashed a glare at Erin when she reached for the saddle, and instead, lifted it onto Bright¡¯s back herself.


    The saddle sat between Bright¡¯s wings, positioned over the feline portion of the back and extending slightly forward to allow for control over the forequarters. The seat was slightly elevated, to keep the rider clear of the powerful shoulder muscles during flight.


    A wide strap, the width of Erin¡¯s hand, ran beneath the gryphon¡¯s chest with an articulated harness to prevent chafing during movement. The secondary strap was looser, crossing in front of the wings and ensuring the saddle stayed forward without impeding wing movement.


    Hip anchor straps wrapped gently around the hindquarters, preventing the saddle from slipping backward, while a reinforced metal band sat across Bright¡¯s chest, distributing the weight evenly.


    Bright accepted the saddle without complaint, the long months of training with it by Geoffrey having gotten him used to wearing one.


    At an irritated gesture from Mary, Erin climbed up into the saddle. Unlike before, her legs sat in stirrups behind the wing joints, keeping them free of the powerful downstrokes that had so bruised her legs previously.


    Her legs were slightly forward, as she sat, back straight. There was a raised pommel and cantle to prevent her from sliding forward or backwards, and a slim, leather harness attached that she could buckle around her waist to hold her in the saddle.


    She gripped the reins in her hands and looked across to where Lady Sarah had mounted Greyquill.


    ¡°A short flight,¡± Sarah said. ¡°No need for vest or gloves, we¡¯ll do a quick circuit of the farms.¡±


    ¡°Yes, milady,¡± Josias said. He gestured for Mary and they both moved to the entranceway, each of them lifting one of the leather flaps to allow the gryphons exit.


    Erin pressed her heels gently against Bright¡¯s side and he walked forward, following closely behind Greyquill. She ducked as they crossed through the entrance, and leaned back as he cantered down the ramp, his talons clicking against the wood.


    She breathed deeply of the morning air, excitement hammering in her breast. She was about to fly again!


    Lady Sarah, glanced back, a smile forming on her lips. She could see Erin¡¯s excitement, and she felt a touch of it herself. Even after years of flying, she got a thrill every time she took to the air.


    ¡°Stay close,¡± she called. ¡°Try not to fall.¡±


    With that, she leaned forward in the saddle and dug her heels against Grey¡¯s sides. The gryphon leapt into the air and Erin watched her, mouth hanging open.


    Bright chirped, looking back over his shoulder at her, and she sensed his eagerness to be off. She grinned as she copied, Lady Sarah¡¯s movements. Bright bunched his legs, powerful muscles rippling beneath the soft fur.


    Then he leapt, launching himself upwards as he spread his wings, beating them in powerful motions.


    For a moment, the world spun, and then Erin laughed with delight, as the settlement fell away beneath her.

 Chapter 13

    Erin soared!


    She followed Lady Sarah in a tight circle around the settlement, the wind tugging at her coat and blowing her hair across her face. She cursed herself for not tying it up. A lesson learned, she reasoned, and one she would not forget.


    The cold wind was bitter, and she shivered with it growing colder the higher they rose. Still, she would not have landed right then, even had she been sitting frozen like a block of ice, so thrilled to be in the air was she.


    For years, she had learned how to care for the gryphons, cleaning their roosts and tending their needs. She had seen riders from afar, distant and aloof, and dreamed of the chance to fly knowing that it would never happen.


    There were too few gryphons, and too many riders waiting. Mostly from good family stock, with wealth and privilege beyond her reach. She had resolved to care for the beautiful creatures as best she could, pushing aside that dream of ever being more than their caretaker.


    Now she was flying!


    She fought the urge to drop the reins and spread her arms, glorying in the feeling, as a soft giggle escaped her at the notion.


    Looking down, there was no dizziness nor fear as she watched the settlement and its people going about their business. Few looked up, accustomed as they were to seeing Lady Sarah fly above each day, and Erin marvelled at their lack of wonder, a wonder she had never lost.


    Greyquill banked left, wings extended as she soared on the air currents, and Bright followed, heading out over the palisade and the farmlands beyond. Lady Sarah sat with her back straight, keeping the pace even, saving the gryphon¡¯s energy for when it might be needed.


    Below the farmers were hard at work, tending their animals and crops, while doing the hundred other small chores that were needed to be done each day. Each farmhouse sat surrounded by around twenty acres of land, the standard allotment for each settler family willing to work it.


    Erin lost count of the farms, instead focusing on staying close to Lady Sarah as she flew.


    East to west, and then a short distance north before returning, west to east and back again. They crisscrossed the land, approaching ever closer to the tree line.


    It was on the last run that something changed. Erin noticed it immediately, Lady Sarah hunching forward over her saddle pommel, pressing her knee against Grey¡¯s side and swinging her in a tight spiral above a farm.


    Erin stared down, trying to see what had caught Sarah¡¯s attention and then it hit her. No smoke rising from the chimney, nor animals in the paddocks.


    Sarah¡¯s arm stabbed down, and Erin waved, acknowledgment.


    Flying swiftly, Grey spiralled down, losing height rapidly as Erin followed. She landed in the small farmyard, and Erin came down beside her with a thump, the landing less smooth, jarring her teeth.


    She patted Bright¡¯s shoulder before leaning back and stretching. Her back ached from sitting in one position for so long. Something she would need to get used to, she guessed.


    Sarah climbed down from the gryphon and waved for Erin to do the same. Unbuckling the harness, Erin slid from Bright¡¯s back and stood, holding his reins.


    ¡°He¡¯ll not fly without you,¡± Sarah said, letting her own reins drop. Grey stood obediently, chirping at her and lowering her head for scratches. Lady Sarah obliged as Erin released her reins and ran her hand down Bright¡¯s neck before crossing to where Sarah waited.


    ¡°Where are they?¡± she asked, lifting her chin towards the farmhouse. If a gryphon had landed in her parent¡¯s yard, all the family would have come out to gawp.


    ¡°A good question.¡±


    Lady Sarah approached the door and reached for the handle. Erin gulped and gripped the small knife on her belt. Sarah glanced back and arched her brow. ¡°There¡¯s no need for that.¡±


    ¡°How can you know?¡±


    ¡°The Shadowbeasts only come at night,¡± she said, and pushed open the door. She stepped inside as Erin stared after her, heart racing.


    Steeling herself, she kept a tight grip on her knife hilt anyway and followed Sarah inside.


    All was in ruin, the furniture smashed to pieces, the crockery and earthenware pots broken, shards scattered about the floor. The food had not been eaten, yet had still been thrown about, ripped into pieces and ruined.


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    Blood covered every surface.


    The back door hung from its frame, great gouges in the thick wood, while bloody handprints stretched out across the floor. Thick bloody tracks crossed the floor, leading to the back door.


    Erin gagged and spun, heading out into the daylight and gulping down deep breaths of air.


    She waited there for several long minutes until Lady Sarah finished her inspection and came back out to join her. Sarah looked upon Erin with something close to pity before her face set like stone and her eyes turned hard.


    ¡°Ralph and Anna Risley, lived here,¡± she said. ¡°They had two children, three years of age and a babe in arms.¡±


    Erin swallowed back the nausea.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°He was a fool,¡± Sarah snapped. ¡°Hiding here from them, rather than coming into the safety of the settlement.¡± Her hands formed into tight fists, and she shook, with anger. ¡°There will be almost thirty of them when they next attack.¡±


    Erin shook her head, forcing back the urge to lose the contents of her stomach. She didn¡¯t understand.


    Lady Sarah exhaled a soft sigh and released her fists, holding back her anger. She glanced at Erin, managing a rough grimace that was almost a smile.


    ¡°The first night, there was just one of them,¡± she said, as Erin frowned. ¡°Two men, working outside the settlement, died that night. When we went looking for their bodies, they could not be found.¡±


    ¡°Elias sent armed men into the forest to search for them and, for days, they looked but no remains were found.¡± She raked her fingers through her hair, sighing. ¡°On the fourth night, three Shadowbeasts attacked a company of soldiers as they returned from the search.¡±


    ¡°Four men died then, but they killed all three of the creatures. That night, we buried our dead and our wizard examined the bodies of the beasts.¡±


    ¡°What did he learn?¡± Erin asked, breathless with growing horror.


    ¡°That they had once been men,¡± she said, grimly. ¡°Twisted by dark magics, and corrupted.¡±


    ¡°The missing men,¡± Erin said, understanding, and Lady Sarah nodded.


    ¡°Yes. There were traces of them still, though fading fast. The fouled bodies were burned, and we thought the matter ended.¡±


    Erin felt her stomach twist with dread, knowing that was not the case.


    ¡°Five nights later, three Shadowbeasts were discovered digging up the graves of the fallen soldiers.¡± She shivered at the memory. ¡°We fought them, our numbers overwhelming when the alarm was raised, but they didn¡¯t run. They were rabid in their ferocity, and it was only our ranked shot that saved us from losing more lives.¡±


    She began to pace, head bowed as she recounted those dark times, and Erin listened with rapt attention.


    ¡°Wizard Higate determined they were the same creatures that we had killed once already, and that was when we learned why they did not fear death.¡± She looked up then at Erin. ¡°We cast their bodies from the Edge, out into the void and the Black below.¡±


    She paused.


    ¡°Four nights later they returned.¡±


    Erin gasped and quickly put a hand to her mouth lest the noise distract Lady Sarah from telling her that dark history.


    ¡°We have hunted them and fought them, countless times,¡± she said, smacking her fist into her open palm angrily. ¡°Again and again, we have slain them only for them to return no earlier than four nights from their deaths, no later than six.¡±


    Lady Sarah¡¯s gaze was distant, her thoughts in the past, delving through dark memories of times she would rather not revisit.


    ¡°We have scoured this island, searching for their lair and found no trace, yet still they come. Sometimes attacking head on, other times¡­¡± she waved a hand towards the farmhouse. ¡°With each body they claim, they grow in number while we grow weaker.¡±


    Turning abruptly, Lady Sarah skewered Erin with her gaze. Her expression as grim, as she lifted her chin.


    ¡°We have lost so many,¡± she said. ¡°Our wizard dead, the battalion down to a bare thirty men, of which many are wounded and weary beyond words.¡±


    She was silent for a moment, tears shining in her eyes. She blinked them away, angrily.


    ¡°Any night they do not steal away a body is a victory, no matter the lives lost,¡± she whispered. ¡°Our dead are cast into the void where they can not be taken, their souls amongst the Lost.¡±


    Erin¡¯s heart ached at the pain in the noblewoman¡¯s voice. She was so very weary, an exhaustion cloaking her, the weight of it too much to bear.


    ¡°You bonded with the gryphon intended for Mary,¡± she said, sniffing and choking back her grief. ¡°So, her duty falls to you.¡±


    ¡°What would that be?¡± Erin asked, afraid to hear the answer.


    ¡°I have scoured this island every day since those creatures appeared.¡± Her lips pressed firmly together, anger rising in her eyes, driving away her sorrow. ¡°I have failed, and I am driving Greyquill to exhaustion.¡±


    And herself too, Erin thought but wisely did not speak those words.


    ¡°You will share this duty. Together we will search until we find their lair, and then we will destroy them. Our settlement, this colony, will not last if we do not do this. Do you understand?¡±


    Erin nodded. There was more to the tale, she guessed, but she had not the courage to demand answers from the noblewoman. Instead, she swallowed back her questions and steeled herself as best she could.


    If it meant she could continue to fly, then she would do whatever was required of her.


    ¡°Then we had best return,¡± Lady Sarah said. ¡°Elias will need to be told of what has happened here, and he will need to send some folk to tend the farm animals.¡±


    They mounted their gryphons and, as Lady Sarah and Greyquill took to the sky, Erin paused a moment to look over at the farmhouse.


    Something dark and evil had taken that family, and from it new terror would arise. The very thought of it set her to quivering with fear, but she set her jaw, determined to help fight it. To help avenge those that had been taken by the darkness.


    No matter the danger.


    Pressing her heels to Bright¡¯s sides, he leapt into the air, wings beating as she climbed higher and higher until they were several hundred feet above the farm. He banked, following Grey as she headed for home.


    It was a quiet ride back, Erin¡¯s thoughts dark and distant. So much so that she felt little joy, only a heavy weight in her breast.


    Part of that was because she was a gryphon handler, not a rider. She had no training, nor any real skill. She had found herself thrust into the role by chance, more than design, and her growing fear was that she would fail.


    That her failure would lead to others getting hurt.


    To Bright, getting hurt.


    That could not happen, she decided.


    No.


    That could never happen. She wouldn¡¯t let it.