WingSpan (Taken on the Wing Book 1) (20 page)

“I don’t care if the Royal Council cleans your chamber pot, Sire,” Talon hisses, well aware he’s on the line if not leaning over it. “Nobody touches me there but Shadow.”

“Hm,” Lev snorts, stepping away and leaning casually on the wall behind him. “Let me guess; she’s pretty, small and an easy mark for whichever rogue was lucky enough to stumble upon her.”

Talon stiffens, waiting a chance to speak his peace.

“Then you let her get in trouble with a royal and ran back here to play ranger games with your friends. Abandoned her to Torrent who could have very well dispensed with his embarrassment by leaving her—”

“Abandoned!?”

Lev reddens at the outburst but Talon doesn’t give a shit. The arrogant Sire thinks he’s going to stand there smugly telling Talon off. Not bloody likely. He’ll step in anything when it comes to Shadow.

“Let’s talk about abandoned; she suffered every day for two and a half years without her brother. Not only did you leave them to the humans but when Condor died you let her fend for herself. The pain she carries is crushing and you did nothing!”

Keep your feet where they are, Talon,
he says to himself. As he struggles to stay coherent, visions of Lev with a bloody nose make his knuckles itch.
If Lev is out of reach then you can’t clock him.

But the Sire takes a step forward forcing Talon to take a step back.

“What do you know of her pain? He was her brother but he was my son,” Lev roars, static crackles between his feathers like he’s readying to shift completely. Talon has pushed too far and if Lev draws full claws the shit will get very, very deep.

“I felt it even before I laid eyes on her, as fresh today as it was last summer,” Talon keeps his voice down while his body language says someone will pay for Shadow’s suffering.

Lev smirks. Thick feathers flow up the sides of his neck to mix with the hair at his temples. “So you went for her because she’s weak and hurting too much to put up any sensible resistance.”

“I chose her because this mountain could never hold back her strength,” Talon takes another step away from Lev but the Sire takes two and they stand nose to nose, the peaks of their great wings pushing against each other. Lev’s electric show has stopped and Talon prays it was just a display. He’s not dressed for dealing with that kind of trouble. “I chose her because her bravery puts mine to shame. I chose her because her humility is as beautiful and innocent as a child and I love her before some half-assed excuse for a gryphon did her the disservice of taking her tears.

“When she heals and embraces her gryphon spirit she’ll be a powerful reflection of her sire and dame and I’m proud she chose me to be at her side.”

The soft scrape of an earthen bowl over rock is the only indication Talon is no longer alone with Lev. Soar has returned and put the moonwater near the fire. The gryphon wouldn’t be master of Lev’s guard if he couldn’t be trusted and Talon knows whatever his friend overheard will never pass his lips. But the fire? It’s not the pain of punishment which worries him; it’s how he’s going to explain it to Shadow without lying or telling the truth.

“It was her dame’s dying wish they be hidden as humans,” Lev whispers. Talon feels Lev’s teeth against his throat and holds his chin high. “I did as I was told, flew south to a church and left them there. My only words were ‘keep them together.’ I let the world think their spirits flew free with their dame’s. I silently cursed my dead mate for ten years, sure I’d done the wrong thing but her strangest desires were always proven out in the end. The band of warrior rogues returned and murdered several more of my gryphons including small children as we fled. The master of my guard was lost. His bravery spared the lives of many grieving survivors of the first attack and I’m certain Shadow would not have survived had I not given them up. They came for the females and the young, Talon.”

“Sire,” Talon says, inadequate and all he can think of.

“Do you truly feel her spirit in yours? Know her feelings as she does? Like I knew her dame?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“And finally, is there any part of your rant you wish to retract before I finish our business here?”

Talon’s eyes flicker open as he realizes the walls still echo with the word love.

“No, Sire.”

“Master Soar,” Lev says loudly and Soar kneels but is quickly pulled to his feet. Soar’s look of surprise is priceless as Lev embraces him, nearly pulling him from the ground. “You have taken an excessive amount of shit over this, my friend. This is a good gryphon.”

Talon looks away as Soar mumbles in acknowledgement.

“Leave us, Soar,” and with a nod Talon is alone again with Lev. A leather pouch sits beside the rough pottery bowl containing only a couple of cups of plain looking water. Lev squats and unties the strips of leather holding it shut. Then he dumps a round wooden handle with a metal end and several chunks of raw iron into the water, carefully so he doesn’t touch them.

“Sire,” Talon starts. “I came here when Shadow took off because she didn’t know she’s royal. Her only hope was that I didn’t miss her trial.”

With a gesture to join him on the ground, Lev pushes his lips together before offering a smile. In the firelight his hair appears orange; his glistening eyes shamelessly reflect the flames.

“Sometimes we must abandon something precious for a time to protect it, yes?”

“Yeah,” Talon sighs as he gets on his knees. As much as Lev’s departure from Shadow’s life initially disgusted him, it’s his own abandonment which still has him angry. Talon had done the same thing when called for and can only guess it’s earned him a small amount of the Sire’s respect.

“On your hands, Talon, son of Stalker,” and as Talon gets down, Lev swirls the bowl causing brief flashes of light. “I don’t know what the females use this for but it makes an excellent cleaner, removing all traces of anyone who has ever touched the pieces.”

It takes several minutes for the flashes to become fewer and farther between. Lev speaks again, this time in the old words like Talon’s sire used to teach him the Earth’s magic.

“My daughter has no guard, Talon, and a guard must first have a Master. This is not a task you can decline. Whether you accept or not is up to the Earth and she will test you now,” Lev winks. “It won’t take very long.”

He places the bowl before Talon and sits back on his haunches.

“I was once the Master of my mate’s guard, until I took my sire’s place in the royal chamber. The same path is before you. Take the iron from the bowl and place it in the hottest part of the fire. It’s nowhere near hot enough to melt it on its own but if you are truly free of doubt that you would put her life before yours the Earth will do the rest. She will shape Shadow’s mark that you will bear for the rest of your days. The mark you will give all whom the Earth chooses to serve with you in Shadow’s honour.

“If you aren’t the right gryphon for the job then the metal won’t melt and you will not be Master of Dame Shadow’s Royal Guard.”

Without hesitation, Talon reaches into the water and pulls out the stones. They’re surprisingly warm considering the icy chill of the moonwater and he singes his fingers placing them where the coals glow white. He’s sure his hand trembles with excitement; from a prisoner on trial for his life to a chance to be a ranger and a master of the guard to boot.

Holy shit.

The change is nearly instant, first the pieces start to glow then they sink into the ashes, snaking several trails as the iron becomes fluid and creates its own mould.

“Ah,” Lev exclaims as the concussion from a blinding flash of light knocks them both back several inches. “The handle.”

Talon pulls it from the bowl and presses the metal end toward the iron. The redness fades and with a thunk the hot brand jumps, affixing itself to the handle.

“With its first heat, proudly claim your title, Master Talon.”

Still on hands and knees, Talon presses the smoking brand so the three mingling horizontal lines of Shadow’s mark sear his skin. The piece is long and he has to start at his bicep and slowly roll it over the curve of his arm. The smell of burning flesh wrinkles his nose and when the mark is done he can breathe again.

The Sire gathers up a handful of ash from the fire’s edge and rubs it into the burn, cooling it and ensuring that when healed it will be clearly visible.

“Off your hands now,” Lev holds the leather pouch open and Talon places the brand inside as he sits. “Nobody but its master may touch it. When you take my seat to serve Shadow’s gryphons as Sire you will pass it on to the next Master of her Guard. Should a gryphon not be meant for the commitment of service, the brand will stay cool no matter how hot the flame and the gryphon will not become a ranger. Clear?”

“Clear, Sire,” Talon proudly replies.

“Fetch your armour and weapons, Master Talon,” Lev stands, pausing to place his fingers under Talon’s chin and draw it up in praise. “I assume you have several gryphons in mind who may be worthy of my daughter. There are several of her dame’s guard who would be proud to be tested again.

“The attack on my eyrie wasn’t random,” Lev whispers. “There have been several others up and down the continent over the years including the home of that young catastrophe of Tawny’s. I have suspicions but for now we have a risky trip ahead. Shadow’s magic will protect the eyrie; bring back the light and the water, like her dame’s did. Until we get her home she is in great danger, now that her existence is known.

“My hope is by tomorrow morning when we depart you’ve talked her into taking wing. She lost her child’s roundness two years ago but I’m afraid like her dame her first shift will need some encouragement.”

“Yes, Sire,” Talon acknowledges as he dusts off old memories of his own sire giving him ‘the talk.’

“Oh, and Talon?”

Lev pauses at the opening.

“Your female is unadorned. I trust you will take care of that tonight as well?”

After a minute Talon leaves the chamber taking a left to the entrance for a quick head clearing flight instead of right wherever Lev went, deeper into the bowels of the eyrie.

Jesus, did the Royal Sire just order me to screw his daughter?

Chapter Seventeen

Shadow shivers on a stone seat by the pool as Tawny puts a towel over her shoulders. Shadow was originally concerned for Tawny but her thoughts are now for Cloud; the orphaned teen all alone in this eyrie full of her kind. It looks like the girl does an admirable job of keeping everyone away by being more trouble than she thinks she’s worth. Maybe simply remaining here reminds her of the roughest days following the loss of her family.

It isn’t long before Cloud returns, a covered plate in one hand and Shadow’s pack and some white garments bundled over her other arm. Tawny takes the clothes and helps Shadow dress before she chills. The clothes are pure white, or at least look white in the dim light; the shape their only similarity to the rough black set. The trousers have a gap in the back from which she presumes a tail would pass and both are light and soft and a little big, draping like Talon’s shirt.

“Cloud,” Tawny gestures at Shadow. With a roll of her eyes Cloud kneels and offers the plate.

“Thank you,” Shadow says and as the girl stands Shadow tells her to stay put.

“Wow,” she exclaims. There’s a little dish of diced tomato and black olive tossed with cilantro, pepper and bits of lemon, a stack of steaming falafel, a large flour tortilla filled with coloured peppers and red onions and a heap of yogurty dip on the side. “You made all this?”

Cloud dips her chin.

“What’s your name?”

“You’ve heard my name,” Cloud whispers, triggering a growl from Tawny.

“But we haven’t been introduced. I’m Shadow.”

“Cloud,” is the one word answer.

“It’s pretty,” Shadow says, thinking longingly of the outside.
How far did Torrent carry me? I could be above them.

“It’s stupid, boring and plain,” Cloud’s arms cross as Tawny’s hairbrush flies through the air and nails the girl in the butt. “Oww!”

“Join me,” Shadow tries, making room on her stone; partly to deflect Cloud’s face to face attitude and partly to protect her from another hairbrush or anything else in Tawny’s bath basket. “Now.”