The Shadow's Heir (The Risen Sun) (16 page)

O
ver the next few days, she kept close to him, visiting him as often as she could. He slept a lot and looked tired and weak most of the time, but she could see he was recovering . . . far too fast.

That frightened her more than she was willing to admit, and that fear only increased when he calmly said, “The feeling’s coming back in my legs. I think they’re getting better.”

Laela breathed deeply. “That’s . . . good.”

He looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I still don’t understand why yeh ain’t dead,” she confessed. “I mean, yeh must’ve been in that canal for . . . what, two nights an’ half a day? An’ with a dagger in yeh . . . I mean . . . I pulled yeh out of there, an’ yeh weren’t breathin’, yeh heart wasn’t beatin’ . . . How can yeh have survived? I mean, it ain’t possible!”

His expression saddened. “You don’t think I’m an ordinary man, do you?”

“Well, no, but . . .”

“Touch my neck,” he said softly. “Do it.”

Laela obeyed. “Yeh feel a bit cold . . . What’m I meant t’be lookin’ for?”

“Keep your hand there,” he advised. “You’ll realise it soon enough . . .”

She frowned. “That’s weird . . . I can’t find a pulse.”

“I know,” said Arenadd.

Laela took her hand away sharply. “What? Why can’t I feel one?”

“Because there isn’t one. They don’t call me the Man Without a Heart for no reason.”

She bit off an incredulous laugh. “Don’t be—that’s ridiculous! Everyone’s got a heartbeat!”

“I don’t.”

“But that’s . . . that ain’t . . .” She trailed off.

“My heart has only beaten twice in twenty years,” Arenadd said quietly. “The first time was when I kissed Skade. The second was when I first set foot on Northern soil. It hasn’t made a sound since.”

Laela’s eyes had gone wide. “But . . .”

“I am the Dark Lord,” he intoned. “No mortal weapon can kill me. The Night God’s power is in me, protecting me.”

Laela stood up. “I should—”

His hand shot out, catching her by the wrist. “Laela, I can’t die. I
can’t
. I can’t age, I don’t need food or sleep. I can be injured, but I can never be killed. Not by weapons, or poison, or suffocation, hanging, drowning . . . nothing. Not even the Bastard’s sword could kill me. You can’t kill someone who’s already dead.”

In an instant, all her old terror of him returned. “Stop it!”

He let go of her and lay back as if the effort had exhausted him. “The Night God needed a warrior to fight for her and defend her people,” he muttered. “She can’t fight for herself . . . She’s weaker than anyone knows. In the South, a Northern boy was betrayed and murdered. The Night God sent Skandar to him, and he filled the dead boy with his magic . . .
her
power. Only a griffin could channel it. That was how she made her champion. But when I died, I lost my heart. Lost my soul. For a while I thought I could get them back, but now I know I can’t. I don’t even remember what it was like to be alive. All I do is what the Night God wants me to, and when she finds out I’ve defied her . . .”

The fear in his voice was so palpable that Laela’s own began to fade. “Arenadd . . .”

He glanced toward the door. “Laela, I want to tell you something. No-one else in Tara knows it. Not even Skandar knows, but I think plenty of people suspect. I trust you to keep it a secret.”

“I will,” said Laela. “I swear on my heart.”

“Lean in close,” said Arenadd. When she had, he spoke again, in an undertone. “I have no heir because I can’t father children. I’ve had lovers over the years, but the only thing I ever planted in them was a curse. It killed them all. None of them ever had so much as a miscarriage.”

Her heart ached with sadness. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’d be a terrible father anyway. But keep it to yourself, all right?”

“I will.” She paused. “Why tell me, though?”

He smiled. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we are,” said Laela. “An’ yeh can trust me.”

Arenadd stifled a yawn. “I’m tired, so I think I’ll rest a bit. But I’ll see you again soon. I should be able to walk again before long.”

“I hope so.” Laela left the room, her mind in a whirl.

•   •   •

A
nother person she saw a lot of during that time was Yorath. Her tutor kept visiting her—to continue their lessons, he claimed, but she knew better. They shared meals together, and talked, and Laela enjoyed his company more and more.

They spent nights together, too. She had no more fears about that, and neither did he.

“I really do care for ye,” he told her one night.

Laela pulled him closer. “I must just be a bitter girl,” she said. “I always thought I’d spend my life alone after Dad died. I never did think anyone’d ever love me.”

“Well.” He chuckled. “Ye aren’t the easiest person t’get close to, I’ll say that.”

“When I was tiny, Dad taught me to trust no-one,” said Laela. “He said, ‘Laela, girl, yer a half-breed. Yeh can’t just pretend otherwise. Never think I love yeh less for it, but the world won’t be kind to yeh. It’s tough enough for the rest of us, an’ it’ll be doubly tough for you. Remember that, an’ rely on yerself an’ no-one else. Sometimes, that’s the only way t’live.’”

“Mm,” Yorath grunted. “I don’t think I’d be able to. I’ve always had my family t’look out for me . . . I can’t imagine what it’d be like without them.”

She paused. “Yorath?”

“Yeah?”

“What tribe are you from?”

Yorath yawned. “Deer tribe.”

“I dunno what my tribe’d be,” said Laela. “The priestess what teaches me about the Night God said I’d belong to my father’s tribe, but I don’t know what it was, so she said we’d have t’just sort’ve . . . find out.”

“Ah, ye’d be Crow,” said Yorath. “For sure.”

She looked curiously at him. “Why?”

“The Crow has no moon, only darkness an’ the stars,” said Yorath. “He’s secret and mysterious; he lives in darkness an’ his black feathers hide him from anyone who tries to know him. He goes where he pleases an’ follows his own star, an’ nobody knows where he comes from or where he goes. That’s ye, Laela. All over.”

She turned it over in her mind, and then smiled. “I s’pose it is. Crow. Huh. I like that.”

“How’s the King?”

“Better,” said Laela.

“Are ye sure?” He sounded worried. “They were saying things . . . Everyone’s sayin’ he’s been crippled.”

Laela stirred. “He said he’ll walk again, an’ I believe him.”

15

Griffins

A
renadd’s prediction had been correct. Within two days, he was able to move his legs again, and on the day after that, when Laela came to visit him, she found him out of bed and walking slowly around the room with the help of a stick.

He grinned at her. “There. I told you I’d get better. Now, I think it’s time for an outing.”

Laela did her best to look calm. “Are yeh sure yer ready t’go anywhere?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving her into silence. “Now, let’s go. Skandar will want to see me.”

Ignoring the protests of the healers, he limped out of the room. Laela followed.

“Keep close to me,” he said. “I might need you to support me again.”

“I will.”

It was a slow journey up to the King’s chamber, but Laela kept pace with him as patiently as she could.

“Sire—Arenadd, I mean—can I ask yeh somethin’?”

“Of course you can.”

“Do yeh know who did it?” she said. “Who attacked yeh—did
that
to yeh?”

Arenadd winced as he took another step. “No. And he won’t be easily caught. He planned it very well.”

“We’ve gotta catch him, though,” Laela said in angry tones. “What he did to yeh was unspeakable. If I could find him, I’d have him hung an’ quartered.”

“Would you now.”

“Yeah, I would. Did yeh see him, though? Do yeh know what he looked like?”

“He was working with someone at the tavern,” said Arenadd. “I know that much. I only had one drink while I was there. One. And trust me, it takes a lot more than one drink to do that to me. It
must
have been drugged. By the time the bastard caught up with me, I could barely see straight. I only saw him very faintly.”

Laela shivered. “What’d he look like?”

“Scarred,” said Arenadd. “Horribly scarred, on the face. I heard him say something—he said the name Gryphus.”

“An’ later he shoved a bit of cloth with a sunwheel on it in yer mouth,” said Laela. “I pulled it out.”

Arenadd paused. “I see. So I wasn’t imagining it. Well, a sun worshipper could easily have done something like that. There’s not one single man or woman among them who doesn’t hate me. But how he managed to hide in my city . . . that’s another question.”

“He’d be easy t’find, though, wouldn’t he?” said Laela.

“Not necessarily. He’ll have left Malvern by now, for certain. I already sent guards to the Blue Moon to ask some very blunt questions, but it seems the woman who gave me the drug has suddenly disappeared, and the owner hasn’t the slightest clue where she went or whether she had anything to do with what happened. So unless we find some other clue, it looks like our would-be assassin has escaped.”

“We’ll find him one day,” said Laela.

“I hope so.” Arenadd’s mouth tightened. “I have a few things I’d like to share with him. Most of them are sharp. But not too sharp.”

When they got to Arenadd’s chamber, he paused only very briefly to change into a fresh robe and boots, and then led the way out through the curtain that Skandar had appeared through on that first night.

Laela followed, intrigued.

On the other side of the curtain was a griffin’s nest. She had seen a few by now, but this was something else.

It was full of straw, of course, and there were stray feathers scattered about the place. But there were heaps of gold coins and gemstones heaped in the corners, and sumptuous tapestries and banners hung from the walls. It was ten times more luxurious than the King’s bedchamber—in fact, it was the most overdecorated room Laela had seen in the entire Eyrie.

She waded over to the water trough and nudged it with her foot. “Is this thing made out of
gold
?”

“Gold-plated wood,” Arenadd said absently. “He demands the best, Skandar does. And I make sure that he gets it.”

“I noticed,” said Laela. “Good gods, all this for a—”

“Skandar isn’t just an animal,” Arenadd said sharply. “Never let me hear you say that again, Laela. No, he’s not human, and he’s not the brightest star in the sky, but he’s as much of a person as I am. I owe him a lot, and so does this city. A little luxury isn’t much to ask in return.”

Laela drew back. “I’m sorry, I was just surprised.”

“I suppose you’ve got every right to be,” he admitted. “Now then, let’s see where the old rogue’s got to.”

He limped away through the opening in the opposite wall and out onto the balcony. There, he tucked his walking stick under his arm, cupped his hands around his mouth, and let out an unearthly shriek.

Laela cringed. It sounded like he was trying to mimic a griffin’s cry—in other words, it was a horrible noise that made her want to cover her ears. When he followed it up with another shriek, she did just that.

Arenadd continued to send out his call for some time before he lowered his hands and took a few steps back. Laela, venturing closer, heard an answering shriek from somewhere outside.

A moment later, Skandar arrived—landing on the balcony with a thump that shook the floor and nearly made Laela throw herself flat to save herself.

The giant griffin folded his wings and rushed at Arenadd, so fast and violently that it looked as if he were attacking. But a moment later, Arenadd was scratching his partner under the beak and talking rapidly to him in griffish, while Skandar cooed and nudged at him, like a cat asking to be petted.

Laela watched them with a bemused expression that vanished when Skandar suddenly looked up at her.

The griffin’s eyes were silver and full of untamed ferocity.

“Stay calm,” said Arenadd, as Skandar took a step toward her. “He just wants to look at you. Stand still and let him. He won’t hurt you unless he thinks you’re an enemy.”

Laela stood as still as she could and kept her jaw clenched while the giant griffin sniffed her up and down. His breath was hot and smelt of old meat, mingled with the musty smell of his feathers. He shoved her carelessly while he sniffed, and she could feel the immense strength in his touch.

Apparently satisfied, Skandar raised his head and looked down on her, inscrutable.

“Touch him,” said Arenadd. “Be gentle.”

Laela glanced at him and reached out very carefully. Skandar tensed but didn’t move, and she stroked his chest as lightly as she could. He didn’t react. Emboldened, she combed her fingers through his feathers, feeling their soft warmth.

Good bloody gods, it’s like touching a giant chicken,
she thought suddenly.
If a chicken could rip yer head off, anyway.

Skandar tapped her on the back of the neck with his beak. He did it lightly, but she felt a chill go down her spine, realising that if he wanted to, he could break her back as easily as if it were a twig.

She took her hand away.

Skandar’s head descended to her eye-level. His own eyes focused on her face, and he rasped at her.

“What does that mean?” Laela asked, not without fear.

“He said, ‘Skandar glad you save human,’” Arenadd supplied from somewhere behind the griffin’s bulk.

“Tell him I said it was no trouble,” said Laela.

Arenadd clicked and rasped a griffish phrase. Skandar kept his eyes on Laela and grated a reply.

“He said, ‘You good friend to human. Give Skandar back human, so friend to Skandar, too.’”

Laela smiled. “Thanks, Skandar.”

“Krrree an oo,”
said Skandar, and turned away abruptly.

“He said, ‘Not eat this one,’” said Arenadd.

Laela’s smile vanished. “Er—”

“Don’t worry; he was just joking,” said Arenadd.

He spoke to Skandar some more, and Laela watched as the two conversed briefly.

“Settled, then,” Arenadd said afterward. “Are you ready to come with us?”

“Where to?” said Laela.

“Well, to the Hatchery, of course,” said Arenadd. “I think it’s high time you saw the inside.”

“What? Oh.” Laela paused. “Why?”

“You’ve done a great service to the Kingdom,” said Arenadd. “And you’ve done a great service to Skandar and me. This is the least we can do in return.”

“What is?” said Laela. “Showin’ me the Hatchery?”

“Showing
you
to the griffins,” said Arenadd. “I think they might just be interested in you, Laela.”

•   •   •

T
he Hatchery was even noisier and looked more dangerous than she remembered, and she probably would have refused to go in if Arenadd and Skandar hadn’t been with her. The King unceremoniously shoved the doors open and limped in, upsetting the few human beings present.

“Sire!” one of them blurted, dropping her broom. “What . . . ?”

“Don’t mind me,” said Arenadd. “I’m just visiting.”

Skandar came in after him, and the effect on the griffins was astonishing. Before, they had been all over the place—flitting in and out of the rafters, squabbling with each other, eating, sleeping, or screeching at each other for no apparent reason. But when the great black-and-silver griffin appeared in their midst, they went silent almost instantly.

They stopped what they were doing. Some lay flat to make themselves look smaller; others bowed their heads. Some actually fled, flying out of the openings in the roof or using the hatches at floor level.

Skandar held his head high and looked majestically at his inferiors, like a King watching his subjects.

Arenadd took Laela by the arm and muttered to his friend in griffish. Skandar rasped back. Then he turned his attention to the griffins. They raised their heads to listen as he said something to them. Whatever it was, it sounded vaguely like a command, and that idea was proven to be correct when they stood up and began to come forward.

Arenadd pushed Laela toward them. “Stand in front of me,” he said. “Let them see you; you’re being presented to them. Skandar’s telling them about you. They’ll come forward to inspect you; keep still and let them.
Don’t show fear.
Don’t. They don’t have any respect for someone who shows them she’s afraid.”

“Right,” Laela muttered back, and stumbled forward.

The griffins were all staring at her. She felt dizzy. To be surrounded by so many of them . . . each one horribly strong and full of magic . . .

She kept still and stood as tall as she could, raising her chin and trying her best to look fearless and dignified.

Skandar stopped speaking, and a horrible silence fell while the griffins regarded her, their eyes full of cold curiosity.

Finally, one broke away from the group and loped toward her. It was one of the smaller griffins, fortunately—its head was level with her face. Laela stood still, heart pounding, and the griffin circled her, sniffing at her clothes. It pushed at her a few times with its beak, and then peered at her face.

After a few moments, it made a dismissive noise and walked away. Several other griffins left with it.

After some hesitation, another one came to look at her, but it, too, left. So did the next.

As if that was a signal, the group suddenly began to break apart and wander off. Laela watched them go, crestfallen. It wasn’t that she wanted to be a griffiner that badly, but it was such a clear and obvious sign of rejection and disinterest that it hurt her more deeply than she would have expected.

Arenadd stepped forward.
“Kree!”
he shouted.

Many of the griffins stopped to look back at him.

Arenadd came to Laela’s side and spoke in loud and rapid griffish, emphasising whatever he was saying by thumping his stick on the floor.

Some of the griffins hesitated a moment longer at this; some turned away and left regardless, but others stayed.

Finally, one of them came closer. It was small—barely bigger than a large goat—but it had the same aura of danger that all griffins had. It came to sniff at Laela, and Arenadd quietly moved away while it did.

Laela braced herself while the griffin examined her up and down and looked her in the face. Then, without warning, it reared up onto its hind legs and planted its front talons on her chest. Keeping still then was much harder, especially given that the thing’s weight nearly pushed her over, but she managed it somehow, and squeezed her eyes shut while it sniffed at her face. Gods, its breath was awful . . .

The griffin moved away and dropped back onto its forelegs. When Laela opened her eyes again, she found it staring at her in a way that made her more than slightly nervous.

“What do I do?” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

“Just keep still,” said Arenadd. “Don’t panic, no matter what—”

The griffin kept staring at her. It looked like it was going to pounce on her, like a cat with a mouse. And a heartbeat later, it did exactly that.

Laela had never imagined that a creature so big could move so fast. One moment it was crouching back and staring at her, and the next it had sprung straight at her, wings open and talons spread. She yelled and backed away, but it came after her, screeching. It caught up with her without any effort at all, and hurled itself at her. Its talons caught in her clothes and pulled her toward it, and its beak opened wide, ready to strike . . .

“Help me!”
Laela yelled. “For gods’ sakes, do somethin’!”

A moment later, she had fallen over, and the griffin was on her. It bit her, using its hooked beak to tear at her as if she were food. Its talons wrapped around her body, holding her tight. Any moment they would go through her clothes and sink into her flesh.

She struggled wildly. “Get off!
Get off me!
Arenadd, get it off me!”

But the griffin continued its attack, and neither Arenadd nor Skandar appeared to help her. It loosened its grip on her and reared up, its beak aimed at her face . . .

Instinct pushed Laela into action. She freed her arm, and punched it square in the throat.

The griffin backed off, hissing furiously. She managed to get up—before it attacked yet again. It knocked her over and bit and scratched at her until she managed to free herself, only for it to come at her again a moment later. She tried to take shelter behind Skandar, but he had moved to the other side of the room, and Arenadd was nowhere to be seen.

She started to panic.