Keeper of the Flame (26 page)

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Authors: Bianca D'Arc

BOOK: Keeper of the Flame
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“You’ve been tested by the flame,” Lera said cautiously. “I have no reason to doubt your words, except for the fact that you just admitted to being a spy. A master spy at that.” Lera didn’t know what to make of the woman and her candid speech.

Krysta smiled understandingly. “A lot has happened to you in a short matter of time. There are many things we must all adjust to. I just wanted it clear from the beginning, who and what I am, so that you know you may call upon my skills and knowledge. Drake will say the same. He’s an even better spy than I am.” Krysta winked as she moved away from Lera’s side, a mischievous smile lighting her features.

Lera wasn’t truly surprised at the idea that the master bard was also a master spy. It was taken as a given that most court musicians listened in on any conversation one was foolish enough to hold while in their range of hearing. Lera had been taught discretion from an early age.

Hugh rejoined her when the extra seating was arranged, though he’d kept an eye on her all along. He placed one arm around her waist and drew her near. She liked the possessive gesture and accepted the pointed smiles of his friends with good humor. It felt nice to be part of a couple. Strange, but definitely good.

The High Priest began speaking, welcoming the newcomers once again, less formally, and asking questions. Unexpectedly, he turned first to the gryphon and the fey man who sat near him.

“I can’t imagine you traveled so far on a whim. Have either of you a message for us?” Gregor asked rather bluntly.

Liam stood with a flourish and bowed. “I do. The Wizard Gryffid sends his regards and has tasked me with delivering these two letters—one for the Doge and one for you, sir, the High Priest of the Order of Light.” Liam reached into a small, richly embroidered satchel that was slung across his body.

It was so ornate, Lera had taken the strap to be a banner of office rather than the more functional satchel strap it really was. Only now did she notice the flat square of fabric resting near his hip had a flap and closure hidden among the heavy embroidery. From within Liam produced two flat folded pieces of parchment, each sealed with an elaborate seal and ribbon that glowed with a hint of magic that was tangible when Lera touched the paper.

Wary of the magic but sensing nothing evil from it, Lera decided to break the seal, releasing a little glimmer of sparks that floated like twinkling dust motes on the breeze, shining with golden light before dissipating harmlessly into the air.

“So the Wizard Gryffid is truly alive?” Gregor asked. “Gryffid himself, from ancient times, not his son or grandson?”

Liam nodded, smiling politely. “The one and original Gryffid, who created the gryphons with the Mother of All’s blessing. Is that not so, my friend?” Liam turned to the gryphon at his side.

Reliendor nodded his powerful beak. “The maker livess.”

Hyadror’s beak opened in an expression of shock. “Truly?” he asked in an astounded tone.

“Truly,” Reliendor said gently to the other gryphon. “He ssendss hiss greetingss to all the gryphonss of Helioss. If you permit, I will fly out with you to bring hiss wordss to our brethren.”

“That would be mosst welcome. Praisse the maker’ss name,” Hyadror replied, more humble than Lera had ever seen the proud creature.

Lera unfolded the parchment and scanned the formal words of greeting and goodwill. It was a straightforward communication seeking to open diplomatic relations between the folk of Gryphon Isle and Helios. It introduced Liam and Reliendor as ambassadors and representatives of the two major races found on Gryphon Isle—fair folk and gryphons.

“For my part,” Lera said, passing the parchment to Hugh, “as Doge, I welcome the opening of diplomatic relations between our lands. As Keeper of the Flame, I suppose I could speak preliminarily for the gryphons and say that they will most like be very interested in learning more about the Wizard Gryffid, if at all possible. Isn’t that so, Hyadror?”

“Indeed it iss,” the native gryphon agreed readily.

The High Priest didn’t say much about his message and Lera didn’t push him. She’d learned over time that Father Gregor spoke only after he’d had time to think, and only when he had something of import to say.

She watched as he refolded the Wizard’s missive and pursed his lips. He gathered the attention of all just by the expression on his face. At length, he spoke.

“There are a few things you should know.” Father Gregor addressed the ambassadors directly. “First, and most important, we had a remarkable event happen yesterday, from which this temple is still reeling. A Visitation by the Lady, Her words spoken to us through an emissary created out of Her eternal flame.” The ambassadors both looked suitably impressed. “Our Blessed Lady has charged this temple and our Order to work with the gryphons of Helios—those selected by the emissary—in the way I believe the gryphons of Gryphon Isle work with your folk, Ambassador Liam.”

Liam nodded. “We work with the feathered folk and fight alongside them. Several highly trained wings allow us to ride into battle on their backs.”

“As I suspected. The Lady has charged some of our priests to do the same and I believe your folk could help us greatly in learning these new skills.”

“We would be pleassed to help,” Reliendor replied with all due gravity.

“Thank you. The second thing you need to know is the nature of the emissary.” Lera remembered only then that Hugh had wondered what the other gryphons would make of the new breed of gryphon.

The doors at the far end of the hall opened as if on cue, to frame the magnificent white gryphon in the carved stone archway. She paused for a moment, allowing everyone to get a good look at her before padding forward on four, silent paws. No clicks of claws on stone heralded her presence as they did for other gryphons who had the front end of the bird, including the front claws.

Lera watched the shock on the ambassadors’ faces. It was clear neither one of them had ever seen anything like the Lady’s emissary.

It was Miss who broke the tension, bolting in the doorway at a run before she’d had a good look inside. When she saw all the people at the table, watching her, she skidded to a stop, dismay in her eyes as her wings swept out to help her stop, displayed to their full extent.

“It’s all right, little one,” Hugh said to her in a coaxing voice. “Come meet everyone.”

Hugh stood and held out his hand. Miss started walking again, clearly bashful with so many eyes upon her. She walked in a hesitant pattern of fast and slow, then made a mad dash to Hugh’s side. He crouched down to her eye level and greeted her quietly, stroking his hands over her fur and speaking reassuring words to the frightened child.

While Miss held everyone’s attention, Jalinar had drawn near. She walked right up to the foreign gryphon, showing strength in every line of her proud body.

“Greetings, Master Reliendor. I am Jalinar, emissary of the Lady. Long has She waited for your flock to rejoin the timestream. As you can see, things have changed among gryphon kind over the many years your maker kept himself away from these lands and the normal flow of time.”

“I can ssee that. Iss thiss the normal appearance for gryphonss in this land?” Reliendor looked from Jalinar to Hyadror and back again.

“No,” Hyadror replied. “Only a few have been born thiss way. And it hass only happened in recent yearss.”

“What caussess it?” Reliendor asked, probably not realizing how rude the question sounded to Lera’s ears.

“Evolution,” Jalinar answered shortly.

At that point, Reliendor backtracked, tucking his feathers close to his body and withdrawing slightly. It was the gryphonic version of tucking his tail between his legs.

“I meant no dissresspect.”

Jalinar eyed him dispassionately for several moments. “The Lady gave me this form after observing what happened to the young one. She is called Miss because her sire called her misborn rather than give her a proper name and threw her out of the nest to die.”

This time, Reliendor’s reaction was satisfyingly shocked. “Ssuch thingss sshame uss all. It iss not right for a parent to behave sso.”

“No, it’s not. Which is part of the reason the Lady chose to make me in this form,” Jalinar agreed. “To teach tolerance of those who are different.”

Reliendor looked from the emissary to the child and took a small step toward Miss. “It iss good to meet you, little one. I am Wing Masster Reliendor of Gryphon Isle. You may call me Masster Rel, if you wissh.”

“Say hello, sweetheart,” Hugh coaxed. “It’s all right.”

Her head down, her paws hesitant, Miss moved slightly forward, toward the much larger gryphon. “Hi,” she whispered. “I’m Misss.”

Reliendor clacked his beak gently in what Lera recognized as gryphon laughter. It was a kind sound coming from the much older and very highly ranked creature, meant to put the youngster at ease. Lera was glad to see the sound did the trick. Miss looked up to meet Reliendor’s gaze and he lowered his head to her level before speaking again.

“You have very pretty coloration, child. Sstripess like yourss are rare in my flock.”

Miss ducked her head slightly, this time in pleasure at the compliment.

At that point, Jalinar reclaimed everyone’s attention, sitting on her haunches, very close to the table, her head at the same height as most of the seated humans.

“Before we can get to the very important business of diplomacy and defeating our common enemies, we have two even more urgent local issues to deal with,” Jalinar said, her words well modulated and perfectly enunciated.

“Assassins known as Eyes set to kill my lady,” Hugh put in as he sat next to Lera, Miss in his lap. He addressed his words to the newcomers.

“And a traitorouss gryphon who plotss againsst her asss well,” Hyadror added.

“Exactly.” Jalinar nodded. “The Eyes will not stop hunting Valeria until their employer is stopped.”

“They were sent by my cousin Sendra,” Lera admitted with a pang in her heart. She’d thought Sendra was at least loyal, even if they’d grown apart over the years.

“Stop Sendra, and we stop the assassins,” Hugh summed up. “That must be our first priority. Until Lera is safe, statecraft must be put on hold. My apologies to our new friends.”

“Not at all,” Reliendor said with a respectful bow of his head. “We will aid you in whatever way we can. I can perhapss be of asssisstance in tracking down your traitorouss gryphon, since I am new to the flock.”

“And I can help the priests search for the woman by magical means, if they will allow it,” Liam added, looking from Lera to Hugh to Father Gregor.

The High Priest nodded his acknowledgment. “If we can give the soldiers a direction in which to look, it would help considerably. We have tried all our usual methods, but Sendra grew up in Alagarithia and was trained in the temple. She has probably covered her tracks in ways we cannot follow because she knows our methods. Perhaps a new perspective will be more effective.”

“I would be honored to help,” Liam reaffirmed.

“What do you need?” Lera asked, wanting to get the fey mage started as soon as possible.

“A quiet room in which to work. An object the woman may have touched. A bowl of water and perhaps a tankard of ale. After all, scrying is thirsty work.” Liam grinned and broke the mounting tension in the room.

“You shall have all of those things,” Father Gregor replied. He signaled to one of the young priests near the door and he went scurrying off to prepare everything Liam had listed. “But refreshments first. You must be hungry after your trip.”

The High Priest’s words heralded the arrival of platters of food and flagons of ale and wine from the temple’s stores. A simple but sumptuous meal was served in short order. Meat was brought for the dragons and gryphons and a selection of cooked and seasoned foods for the two-legged group. Everybody settled down to a companionable meal, the first of many they would share in the coming days, Lera hoped.

Chapter Eleven

While everyone had been talking, the twins had been uncharacteristically silent—out loud. All the while, they’d been keeping up a more or less steady dialog with their elder brother.

Hugh had told them in no uncertain terms that they were not to go out on search parties with the priests. He needed them close, to help keep Lera safe. Once they realized the threat to his lady, they had agreed readily enough. Already, they were making plans for watch schedules, splitting the duty between themselves and the knights and dragons.

None of them would be available for other duty until the assassins had been stopped.

“So who’s your little friend, brother?”
Trey asked, humor clear in his tone, though it was communicated mind to mind while the spoken conversation went on around them.

“We call her Miss.”
Hugh included the dragons, their knights and his brothers in the conversation, as Trey had.
“She found me in an alleyway, following me by the scent of my magic. The poor creature was abandoned in an ice storm to fend for herself.”

“So you took her in.”
Connor didn’t even bother phrasing it as a question. Unspoken was the thought that Hugh could have done nothing else.

“One of her front paws was badly burned and even so, she’d managed to teach herself how to hunt. She wasn’t starving for food—though she was pathetically thin. It was the magic she needed most. I could not leave her like that.”

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