Shadow's End (6 page)

Finally, as they came to the mouth of an alleyway, he found what he was looking for. Pausing, he checked it. Save for a couple of cats rustling through some rubbish, the alley was empty. It was also large enough to accommodate him in his gryphon form.

After one quick glance around them, he let his arm slide from her shoulders, stepped into the alley and shapeshifted.

FOUR

W
hen Graydon strode into the alley, Bel thought she knew what to expect. She had been around Wyr many times, and she had seen several in flight before. On occasion, ancient memories of Dragos flying overhead in his Wyr form still gave her nightmares.

None of that prepared her for the sheer physical impact of watching Graydon's human form flicker and change, to be replaced by an immense, majestic creature. With a panicked yowl, the two alley cats fled.

The gryphon standing in front of her melded eagle and lion together so seamlessly, she knew it was the most natural thing in the world, and yet it was so strange, she had to stare.

She had expected he would be large. She hadn't realized he would be quite so huge. His gigantic lion's body was heavy with powerful muscle, the feline shape both masculine and deadly. Immense bronze wings were folded tight against his back, the tips of the great feathers brushing against the brick wall at the end of the alley.

She glanced down at one of his paws. It was easily twice
the size of a large serving platter. The hidden claws sheathed by that paw had to be as long as her hand.

Lost in wonder, her feet began to move of their own volition and drew her closer to him. His sleek eagle's head bent, and he watched her with one immense golden eye. His beak had a deadly curve at the end, as sharp as a scimitar.

Even though his visage was naturally fierce, he seemed to be watching her with a mild, uncertain expression, almost as if he were . . . self-conscious?

For some reason, she thought of the indifferent cut of his waistcoat, and the arrangement of his cravat that had managed to achieve a state of adequacy. Again, she felt the urge to pat him.

Raising one hand, she hesitated. “Is it all right if I touch you?”

The gryphon nodded in silence.

Slowly, she let her hand trail along the sleek feathers that cloaked his neck. When she reached the area where the feathers turned to fur, she brushed the thick, tawny fur covering his powerful breastbone.

It was slightly damp from the light drizzle. Luxuriating in its richness, she sank her fingers into the fur until she touched his skin. His body threw off heat like a furnace.

“I wish I could see you in better lighting,” she told him. “Even here in the shadows, you're one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen.”

The gryphon bent its head even further, until it very gently touched its beak to her shoulder. He could decapitate her with a single snap, yet it never occurred to her to be afraid.

Graydon's deep, telepathic voice sounded in her head.
Thank you. Do you think you'll be able to climb onto my back?

He was helping her out of the pure goodness of his big, generous heart. She would not scorn such kindness by snorting.

Instead, she retreated several yards, gathered the skirt of her cloak and gown in one hand, and raced toward him. Even though his shoulders were the same height as her head, she gathered her body into a gracefully powerful leap.

As she settled into place just behind his neck, he chuckled.
I expect you're a talented rider, but I need to warn you, this won't be the same as riding a horse. The beat of my wings has an entirely different rhythm than a horse's gait. When I launch, I'll do it from a standstill. Again, it won't be anything like jumping a fence. You also might experience vertigo, as we'll be high in the air. If you find you're having trouble for any reason, be sure to tell me.

“I will.” Her promise came out breathless.

She was worried about Ferion, and very angry at him, and she felt as if she had come to her wit's end in trying to figure out how to help him with his problem. Yet suddenly, in the midst of all that, she was more excited than she could remember being in a very long time.

And more than a little nervous too.

She thought she would be okay with flight. It seemed like something she might love desperately, but that was a created scenario in her head.

This was reality. For all she knew, she might be overcome with the vertigo he mentioned and not able to keep her seat. She gripped him tightly with her knees.

This was . . .

In a classic feline move she had seen before in hundreds of barn cats, the gryphon crouched, tail lashing. Then he
leapt
.

The surge of power between her legs was incredible. The world fell away.

He was too big, too heavy. He shouldn't have been able to do it, but as he cleared the restriction of the alleyway, his massive wings snapped open and hammered down, once, twice, and then again. Each time, he lunged higher.

Almost before she realized it, they were soaring over rooftops, and oh my gods, the view of London from the air was utterly breathtaking.

The sharp wind caught at the edges of her cloak, and moody clouds wreathed the pale smile of a new moon. Sparks of lights lit the night-darkened city. Even from where they were, she could feel the concentration of Power emanating from Vauxhall.

Incredulous laughter spilled out. She realized she was shaking like a leaf and clamped down harder on him.

Are you all right?
the gryphon asked.

“I'm absolutely splendid!” she shouted.

There was a smile in his mental voice.
Not dizzy or nauseated?

“Not in the slightest!” Overcome with delight, she pointed then realized he couldn't see her. “Look at the Thames. It looks like a huge shining ribbon, or maybe a snake. I wish we could see the stars. Graydon, this is
glorious
!”

He laughed gently and banked, and the entire panoramic landscape spun below her.
I'm not sure of the exact address, but Malfeasance is somewhere on the street below. We'll have to walk the length to find it.

Disappointment pulsed. Their flight had only just begun, and the experience was so joyous, she didn't want it to end. “We can't be there already.”

She had a sudden, passionate desire to forget about all her troubles and leave them behind.

To tell him to keep flying. Keep flying and never stop.

Traveling by flight is quite a bit faster than it would be if we had to contend with the traffic in the streets,
he said.
It's also much more direct. Hold on.

His prosaic words grounded her back into her body. He wheeled in great circles, so that they descended at a slow, careful pace. She sensed he did so for her sake, not for his. She had seen how eagles could plummet when they were in search of prey, and how cats could pounce with breathtaking speed. He embodied the best qualities of both creatures.

After coasting a short distance, he landed behind a derelict, dark building, in another alleyway. Her legs shook so badly when she slid to the ground, she had to lean against him before she could stand on her own. He held steady, with no sign of impatience, until she moved away.

When she turned to face him, he had already shapeshifted back into a man. Without a word, he offered his arm to her again. After pulling the hood over her head once
more, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. Together, they stepped onto the street.

Bel had never explored this part of the city. She saw that she hadn't missed much. An acrid stench came from piles of refuse, while prostitutes plied a busy trade and raucous laughter spilled from taverns. Street toughs watched passersby with sharp smiles and predatory eyes.

As she took in the scene from the fragile privacy within the cloak's hood, she had a sudden, deep pang of longing for the fresh, clean air and green scents of her Wood. Her Wood was wild and sentient, and while it wasn't always a safe place for strangers to wander, it was the child of her Power, her hearth and home.

She also noted how a few of the sharp, edgy men eyed her and Graydon. Their gazes lingered on Graydon's height and bulk, and the men left them alone.

They were fools to only take Graydon into consideration. If she had come here alone, she could have handled them, but that might have indeed brought her unwanted attention, so she was glad she didn't have to.

“There,” Graydon said suddenly.

The sound of his voice made her jump. This place gnawed at her nerves. “What?”

He inclined his head. She looked in the direction of his nod to a plain building that was in much better repair than its neighbors. A single letter M hung above a doorway that was guarded by two hulking Orcs.

She sighed. She hated Orcs.

“I don't understand how he could stomach coming to such a place,” she muttered as they strode toward the building.

Graydon sounded as grim as she felt. “If he's caught in the throes of a gambling addiction, then he may not have had much choice. This might be the only place that would run him a line of credit.”

A combination of anger and despair made her clench her teeth. As they grew closer to the building, she switched to telepathy.
I don't know how to help him, and I can't keep
bailing him out. Each time the debt grows higher and higher. Sooner or later, he's going to come to his father's attention.

If that happened, Calondir would react as he always did when he was confronted with a situation that made him angry. When he lost his temper, he could be verbally abusive. Sometimes he lashed out physically.

The thought caused her stomach to clench. Calondir never lashed out at her, not after she had threatened to cut off his hands and had left him. That had happened many years ago. For a very long time now, they had existed in two separate spheres emotionally, and they only came together to work on demesne issues.

Ferion was a different matter. Throughout his childhood, she had worked to protect him from his father, but now that he was an adult, she could no longer be present every time he met with Calondir. All she could do was try to keep Calondir from finding out.

You can't make Ferion quit, Bel,
Graydon told her gently.
I've seen it with people who can't stop drinking. Ferion is the only person who can make him quit. He has to hit bottom, whatever that might mean to him, and he has to choose at a fundamental level to change.

Her gaze dampened. She said,
One step at a time. For tonight, I'll just be glad to get him out of here.

The Orc guards watched but did nothing as they reached the door. When Graydon opened it, heat, light and noise poured out. Squaring her shoulders, Bel stepped inside and he followed.

In contrast to the air of general decay outside, the interior was decorated with plush carpets and paintings. A variety of scents assaulted her nose—liquors, a clash of perfumes, the grease from cooked meats, and unwashed bodies.

Smoke hung in the air, both tobacco and hashish. Music played somewhere, competing with shouts, loud conversation and coarse laughter.

The place was packed with both humans and those of the Elder Races. While some women were scattered throughout, the majority of the clientele was male.

Most stayed focused on the game they played, but several glanced at them curiously. In direct contrast to what had happened in the street, the males' attention lingered on her cloaked, hooded figure.

Graydon moved so close, she could feel the brush of his muscular body at her side. His energy had grown darker and bristled with aggression.

The only way to get through this was, well, to get through it. Squaring her shoulders, she strode through the first room.

Soon, she was sweltering. The loud sights and sounds assaulted her senses, and the confinement of the heavy cloak became intensely uncomfortable.

She couldn't seem to draw in a deep breath, and the thick, overly scented air caught at the back of her throat. Her heart pounded in hard, heavy slugs, and she longed to shove the hood away from her face.

Ferion wasn't in the first room they searched. Nor was he in the second, or the third.

She picked up her pace, shouldering between people as her gaze darted everywhere. From time to time, Graydon's muscled arm shot out to block someone from approaching her.

He's not here.
Distress flooded her.
He's not here.