Contents

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Windsworn

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

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Windswept

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Windbreak

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

The end?

Author's Note

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Author Bio: Derek Alan Siddoway

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Legal

Gryphon Riders Trilogy Boxed Set

Copyright © 2018

♠ Derek Alan Siddoway ♠

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the Derek Alan Siddoway. Thank you for respecting the author's hard work.

Permissions can be obtained through d_sidd@undauntedauthors.com

All characters, places and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real places, events, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First Edition, Ebook

Published June 2018 by Derek Alan Siddoway

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Windsworn

Copyright

Windsworn: Gryphon Riders Trilogy Book One

Copyright © 2018

♠ Derek Alan Siddoway ♠

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the Derek Alan Siddoway. Thank you for respecting the author's hard work.

Permissions can be obtained through d_sidd@undauntedauthors.com

All characters, places and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real places, events, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First Edition, Ebook

Published July 2017 by Derek Alan Siddoway

Chapter One

Soot heard the thrum of gryphon’s wings and the scrape of talons on cobblestone long before the knock ever reached the door. Even so, he hesitated to rise from his chair by the fire, heaving a sigh as he did so.

The smith’s singed and callused hand paused when he reached for the door latch. He’d half made up his mind to pretend like he hadn’t heard anything when another knock came.

“Wayland! I know you’re in there.”

“Who’s there?” Soot asked in a gruff voice — even though he knew exactly who it was.

“It’s Andor.”

The smith sighed again and lifted the latch. Pulling the door open, Soot could see by the small fire crackling in the hearth a tall man standing on the threshold, dressed in leathers and royal blue. Shoulder-length blond hair framed a weatherbeaten and worried face, aged beyond its twenty-something years. When he saw Soot, the visitor’s piercing eyes softened, and his stern expression broke into a grin.

“By the Tempest, it’s good to see you again, old friend!” the man said, gripping the smith’s shoulder. He looked past Soot, taking in the small room and its meager contents.

“So, this is where you ran off to,” Andor said in a low voice, half talking to himself. He glanced back at Soot, answering his friend’s unspoken question. “It wasn’t hard to find you, Wayland. What other forge in the city has a golem working in it?”

Soot grunted and shrugged his burly shoulders. “It’s the middle of the stormin’ night, Andor. What’re you doing here?”

“You didn’t have to leave,” Andor said, ignoring his friend’s question.

Before either man could speak again, a baby’s cry filled the darkness in the street. In the flickering torchlight, Soot made out a pale gray gryphon, standing stock-still in the middle of the yard.

While Andor walked around the gryphon’s side toward the sound of crying, Soot approached the creature’s head.

“Hello, Stormwind,” he said, running a hand down the gryphon’s beak. The gryphon gave a small scree in recognition and leaned into the smith’s touch.

A few moments later, Andor appeared holding the wailing bundle. Soot looked down at the child, a frown creasing his brow, and jerked his head toward the cottage. Inside, Andor sat down in one of the chairs by the hearth, rocking the infant until it fell silent once more.

“Thank the winds,” he said. “I’m not cut out for this parenting business — I guess I should count myself lucky she slept that long.”

Soot sat down across from the pair, never taking his eyes off the swaddled baby.

“Is that?”

Andor nodded.

The smith’s throat bunched into a knot. “Marien?”

“Didn’t make it,” Andor said, voice breaking. Tears welled in his eyes.

Soot ran his good hand over his bald head and covered his face. After a moment, he cleared his throat and looked up at his old friend again with tears of his own.

“Adelar won’t speak with anyone,” Andor continued. “He shut himself in his room and ordered her out of the citadel as soon as he found out Marien died.”

Soot rose for the door, hand tightened into a fist. “Enough is enough! I’ll pound some sense into him if it’s —”

Andor raised a hand to quiet his friend. “Soot, please. You’ll wake her. He’s beyond reason. I…I’m not leaving her with some strangers. He’ll change his mind someday, realize what a thunderstruck fool he’s been. But for now, she can’t stay.”

Soot’s face changed from outrage to horror as it dawned on him what his friend was asking. “Oh no! I can’t, Andor, I don’t know the first thing about babies. You take care of her!”

“The Gyr is no place for an infant,” Andor said. “Please, Soot, just for a little while. I’m certain —”

“If anyone, her father should be the one to raise her!”

Andor shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

Soot raised the capped stump where his right hand should have been. “You know how hard it is to be a one-handed smith? Even with Seppo, it’s all I can do to keep up, let alone try and raise a child. I’ve given enough to your stormin’ family and the crown.”

Without realizing it, Soot towered over Andor, chest heaving. His friend looked up from his chair, still holding the baby. When he spoke, it wasn’t in the barking tone he used to command his riders; it came out so soft Soot almost didn’t hear it.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do this for Adelar. This is for Marien.”

Only the snap of coals in the fire broke the stillness. Soot’s shoulders drooped, and he nodded. Before the smith could change his mind, Andor placed the bundled child in his friend’s thick arms. Soot stared at the sleeping baby, captivated as Andor reached into the pocket of his royal-blue uniform. The gryphon rider pulled out a white stone set in silver on a matching chain.

“Marien wanted her to have it,” Andor said. “She gave it to me almost a week ago — almost…like she knew.”

Soot stared at the white stone as it spun on the chain twinkling lights of sky blue, blue and gold. He nodded to Andor to lay it on the table, still holding the swaddled infant in awkward arms.

“I’ll see to it you’re sent whatever you need,” Andor said, stopping at the door. “But Soot — she can’t know. Not anything. Understood?”

The smith replied with a grunt, still trying to figure out how the night had ended with him holding a newborn. Andor reached for the door latch.

“And Soot…thank you. You don’t know what this means.”

“Wait,” Soot said as Andor stepped into the street where his gryphon waited, clawing at the cobblestones. “What’s her name?”

Andor paused and stared up at the night sky. “Evelyn. Marien named her Evelyn.”

Chapter Two

“Eva.”

“Eva.”

“Evelyn!”

The girl started at Soot’s shout, almost knocking her bowl of porridge off the table. Shaking his head, the smith tried again

“You paying attention now?”

Eva nodded, her long blonde hair sliding across her face with the motion. “Yes. Yes — sorry! Just…thinking.”

“How about you think about what you need to pick up at the market?” Soot asked. “And no dallying, girl! Now that summer’s on, we’ve got plenty of work to do — there’s that big order of horseshoes from Hawk’s Ridge due by the end of the week.”

Eva ran over the list of items again in her head, mouthing each one to help her remember better. “Can I take Seppo to help carry things?”

Soot scratched his three-day growth of beard and frowned. “I suppose…but I’ll need him back soon to work the smelter, so be quick about it.”

Excited at the prospect of a morning at the market, Eva scooped up the last of her breakfast and shot out the door. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it!”

As the door continued to swing on well-oiled hinges, Soot shook his head.

Outside, the morning sunlight flashed bright on the white stone buildings of Gryfonesse, promising an early arrival of summer. Eva paused to stretch and smile in the yard situated between the small cottage and the smithy. The sky above shone blue, empty of clouds and gryphons alike. Below, the city stirred with the sounds of people and songbirds calling out their good mornings, along with the apprentices and journeymen beginning their day’s work in the Craftsman District.

Eva paused to scatter some corn to the chickens squawking and scurrying after her then ducked into the forge, already hot from the never-ending fires she helped feed.

“Seppo! Where are you? We’re going to the market this morning and —”

She stopped short as a giant suit of armor clanked toward her from the back of the smithy. Seppo’s rounded iron head skimmed the ceiling of the forge as he crossed the shop to deposit a stack of firewood that Eva couldn’t have carried in five trips. Clapping his iron hands together to free a piece of bark wedged in a joint, the golem turned to Eva.

“Good morning, Mistress Evelyn,” Seppo said in a tinny, proper voice. “I hope you are well. While you and Master Wayland slept, I took the liberty to chop more wood and fire the smelter.”

Eva shook her head in awe of the golem’s prowess. Although even Soot wasn’t sure what powered him, Seppo didn’t need to eat or sleep, so he often got bored in the middle of the night and began work on the next day’s projects. Soot and Eva didn’t mind most of the time, but every once in a while the golem made such a clatter with hammer and anvil that he woke everyone on the street. Eva supposed if all she needed to sustain her was a little oil now and then, she’d probably go out of her mind sitting still all night, too.

Although Soot was known through the capital — and all of Rhylance — for his skill as a smith, they would never have been able to handle to volume of work they did without Seppo. No matter how much Soot grumbled and cursed the golem, he worked harder, faster, and more efficient than a whole group of apprentices and journeymen could.

Even so, Soot kept Eva plenty busy. Skinny girl of seventeen years that she was, Eva could pump the bellows, shovel slag, and swing a hammer for just as long and with as much skill as any boy.

“Thanks, Seppo,” Eva said. “Ready to go?”

“I would be delighted to accompany you, Mistress Evelyn.”

They returned to the well in the yard just as Soot came stomping out of the cottage. He took one look at Eva and then up at Seppo and shook his head. “You do her chores for her again?”

“I am here to serve, Master Wayland.” Seppo answered in the same level tone he always had. “I became restless during the night and —”

Soot cut him off with a wave of his stump like he did every time the golem started, as the smith put it “rambling on like a rock in a tin cup.”

“How many times I have to tell you to stop spoiling that girl?” Soot grumbled, walking off toward the forge.

Eva looked up at Seppo and grinned. Soot talked like he was all slag and sharp edges, but on the inside she knew the smith was soft as a bar of iron right out of the fire. He worked Eva to exhaustion many a night but still made time to bring her a new book or one of Gryfonesse’s famous yellow roses every now and then from the market.

Together, Eva and Seppo made their way down the lane to the marketplace a short walk away. On their way, they passed several craftsmen who greeted them as they passed by on business of their own. Eva shook her head as Seppo stopped in the middle of the street to raise a hand at a passing butterfly. It alighted on the back of his iron hand for a moment, and Eva swore she heard a small giggle escape the big suit of armor before the butterfly fluttered away. Behind them, a barrel maker pulled up his pony and cart and cleared his throat, eager to continue on his way. “Come on, Seppo,” Eva said, wrapping her hand around one of the golem’s giant fingers to give it a gentle tug.

As they drew nearer to the market, the streets grew more crowded as they spread into wide boulevards. Eva led the way with Seppo clanking behind her. Although most of the citizens had seen or at least heard of Soot’s golem and knew Seppo was harmless, they still cleared the way when the giant suit of armor came into sight. Eva was grateful she didn’t have to push and squeeze her way through the morning traffic, but it always felt a bit disconcerting when the crowd parted and stared as they walked past. Embarrassed, she solved the awkward exchanges by focusing on the ground just in front of her feet. She only looked up when the street opened up into the market circle, a giant ring of shops, stalls, and wagons that formed the heart of Gryfonesse.

Here, a person could find almost anything from all across western Altaris — salted and smoked fish from Pandion’s coast, melons and pottery out of the summerlands of Maizoro to the north, furs and hides from the south and much, much more. At one time or another during the year, trade of every sort passed through Gryfonesse, Rhylance’s capital and the largest city in western Altaris. Soot had his own stall spot for the big fall and spring festivals, but a long list of needs from dozens of patrons made it unnecessary to set up their excess wares in the weekly market. Although Eva enjoyed their short trips, the thought of spending all day in the crowds and noise made her head spin and stomach churn.

A quick trip to their regular stops yielded fresh bread, milk and cheese, and some early season squash and corn from Maizoro. With Seppo carrying the morning’s haul, Eva worked up the nerve to fight through the crowds to one last stop. When she neared their final destination for the morning, a gray-haired woman looked up and smiled at the girl and golem.

“Good morning, Eva,” the woman said. She sat on the steps of a fountain, the centerpiece of which was a large, rearing gryphon, wings spread and front talons stretched wide. A small basket with a scattering of coins was in her lap, and her right arm and hand were wrapped in dirty rags. “I was wondering if I’d see you around today.”

“Good morning, Rose,” Eva said, just loud enough to be heard over the bustling patrons and shouting merchants hawking their wares. She reached up into one of the baskets Seppo carried and handed the woman a loaf of bread. “Got a story for me today?”

The woman shifted her ragged, stained shawl up over her shoulders and smiled, revealing a scattering of missing teeth in her wide grin. “Got something better than a story today,” she said. “Did you hear —”

A series of shouts made Eva spin around. From her vantage point atop the fountain, she saw several guards pushing their way through the market, pausing now and then to question random citizens before moving on. Looking around, Eva saw several more groups of soldiers and realized by their gold-trimmed cloaks and winged helmets they were from the palace.

“What’s going on?” Eva asked.

“You ain’t heard?” Rose said. She let out a dry cackle and shook her matted head. “Some thief stole a gryphon egg from the Gyr last night!”

It took a long moment for Rose’s words to sink in as Eva’s head rose to look at the giant, barren mountain towering over the city to the east. As she looked, Eva noticed several groups of what looked to be birds way off in the distance, flying away from the mountain. Although they seemed no larger than eagles at the distance, Eva knew they were gryphons, likely carrying riders on a search for the missing egg — if what Rose said was true.

“Who would steal a gryphon egg?” Eva asked. Out of all the people to cross, Eva put the gryphon riders at the very bottom of the list

“Someone real brave or real stupid,” Rose said. “Rumor has it a group of Scrawls was meeting with the king about a border negotiation. One of ’em went missing this morning.”

Eva looked out over the crowd and saw the royal-blue uniforms of several gryphon riders working their way through the crowd as well. By now, everyone in the market seemed aware of the armed soldiers threading through their midst, searching stalls and questioning bystanders. She didn’t know why, but the sight of the famous warriors in armor and mail sent her stomach fluttering, and she turned back to Rose, eager to get the rest of the story and return to the forge.

“Why would the Scrawls steal a gryphon egg?” Eva asked. “We’ve been at peace with them for almost a hundred years!”

Rose tapped a gnarled finger against the side of her head. “Don’t know, but it don’t bode well for the negotiations — the king’s got ’em all locked up while the city’s being searched. “

“I…I better get back to the forge,” Eva said, as a sudden burst of anxiety clutched her. “Come on, Seppo.”

Eva turned as someone shouted and saw a pair of palace guards pushing their way through the crowd at the foot of the fountain steps.

“You there!” the front guard, a man with a shaved head and round face said, pointing to Eva. “Hold up, girl.”

Eva felt her stomach twist as the two guards, the man who’d yelled and a dour-faced woman, approached. She looked behind her, but Rose was nowhere to be seen, no doubt eager to stay out of mind of the guard.

“What’s that thing with you?” the man asked, pointing to Seppo.

“Looks like some kind of Scrawl contraption,” the female guard said, gesturing to Seppo’s breastplate. “Thing’s covered in runes.”

“I beg your pardon,” Seppo said in an irate voice. “I am not a thing. My name is Seppo.”

The pair started and reached for the swords. “By thunder,” the woman swore. “It spoke!”

Eva’s stomach coiled tighter, caught between the spooked guards and Seppo. She opened her mouth to tell them Seppo didn’t mean any harm, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Hey, what you got in those baskets there?” the male guard said, gesturing toward the items in Seppo’s hands. “Something’s been stolen from the palace. Show us what you got.”

“I most certainly will not,” Seppo said, twisting so the baskets were farther out of reach.

Eva’s heart leapt into her throat, but she finally managed to speak. “Seppo, just let them see —”

“Move aside, girl,” the female guard said, pushing Eva. She tried to back out of the way and tripped on the fountain step, falling on her rear.

“You will not lay a hand on Mistress Evelyn,” Seppo said. Dropping the groceries, the golem stepped between Eva and the guards, fists bunched. The guards fell back, drawing their swords. Eva tried to tell Seppo to stand down, but all that came out was a squeak. At the same time, a woman screamed and the crowd pushed out of the way, leaving the four of them in an open circle.

“Hey!”

A young man around Eva’s age fought through the onlookers, furthering her embarrassment and fright. He wore the silver wings and royal blue of a Windsworn — a full-fledged gryphon rider. He shot Eva a reassuring look that sent her heart pounding even faster before turning to the guard.

“Get out of the way, kid,” the male guard grunted. “Palace business.”

“I didn’t know the palace made a habit of picking on girls shopping at the market,” the young man said. He looped his thumbs through his sword belt, feet spread wide in an easy, confident manner.

“You’re not on your mountain now,” the female guard said. “So, quit strutting around like a rooster putting on a show.”

“Is there going to be a fight?” Seppo asked with genuine curiosity.

The young man jerked his head toward the guards. “I don’t think these two really want to tangle with us, my giant iron friend.”

“Why you little —”

Eva’s breath caught as the male guard stepped forward, swinging his sword overhead. With speed belying his size, Seppo caught the blow across his arm, knocking the blade aside. Before the man could react, the golem grabbed him by his mail shirt, hefting him into the air. Eva stared aghast as the man kicked and squirmed, but Seppo held firm and turned to present the guard to his mistress.

“What shall I do with this offender, Mistress Eva?”

Everyone — especially the young gryphon rider — turned to Eva, whose face burned. “Just put…put him down,” she muttered, dropping her eyes to the golem’s feet.

The guard collapsed in a pile, struggling to his feet as the onlookers continued to stare. When Eva looked up, the gryphon rider stood over her, hand extended, a crooked smile on his face. “May I?”

Speechless and wishing she could melt into the fountain, Eva held up her hand and allowed the young man to pull her to her feet.

“May I have your name, fair maiden?” he said in such a way that Eva wasn’t sure if he was making fun of her or not.

“It’s uh…Ev-Eva.”

The young rider smiled again, dark brown eyes shining. A whirl of butterflies flitted through Eva’s stomach as he spoke, still holding her hand. “A pleasure to —”

“What’s going on here?”

Almost as Eva didn’t exist, the rider dropped her hand and turned around as a golden-haired man stepped through the crowd. A small frown sat on his face as his piercing blue eyes surveyed the scene.

“Lord Commander Andor,” the female guard stuttered. “We were just performing a search of this young woman when your rider —”

“They seemed to believe we were harboring something sinister in the squash,” Seppo chimed in. “Greetings, Andor. It has been far too long.”

The golden-haired man nodded to Seppo, his cold gaze falling on Eva. For a brief moment, Eva thought she saw his eyes widen in recognition, but the look disappeared as soon as it came.

“What’s your name, girl?” the lord commander asked.

“E-Evelyn, sir,” Eva managed to spit out a second time. Her legs felt like a pair of green willows, apt to fold beneath her at any second.

The lord commander nodded and turned back to the guards. “I can assure you, Seppo and…Evelyn here had nothing to do with the stolen egg. I think it best we let them go on their way after this debacle.”

Lord Commander Andor looked at the young rider as he finished, and the easy smile dropped from the boy’s face faster than a hawk making a stoop. With one last dirty look at Seppo and the young man, the guards left, shouting for the onlookers to disperse.

“You should try and stay home the next few days,” the lord commander told Eva. Once again, he stared at her for a long moment before shaking his head and slapping Seppo on his breastplate. “Tell Soot hello for me.”

With a final nod, the golden-haired man turned with a swish of his cloak, beckoning the young rider to follow.

“It was good to meet you, Eva,” the confident Windsworn said with a wink. “Stay out of trouble.”

Chapter Three

“I’m sorry to have upset you, Mistress Evelyn,” Seppo said for the dozenth time.

“It’s fine,” Eva mumbled. She felt a wave of relief as Soot’s forge appeared. The exchange in the market had left her as drained as a morning working the forge, and she looked forward to the somewhat solitary work ahead of her. Unbidden, the thought of the cocky young gryphon rider rose to her mind again, and another flutter of butterflies rose inside her. She hadn’t even been able to untie her tongue long enough to get his name.

After storing their morning’s groceries away in the cottage, Eva joined Soot and Seppo in the forge. The wave of thick, hot air smelling of hot metal and the clangor of Soot’s hammer welcomed her back, pushing all thought of the market and the gryphon riders from her mind.

Eva buried herself in her work throughout the rest of the day. Although she could help out with the hard labor when necessary, most of her time was spent doing finish work — grinding, polishing, and any other final touches required. By the time they finished for the day, the strands of golden hair fallen from her ponytail hung lank with sweat, and ash and smoke marks streaked her face.

The evening sun painted amber streaks across the white stone of Gryfonesse’s Craftsman District. A cool spring breeze washed over Eva as she stepped out into the yard, and she shivered a little washing away the forge grime at the water pump. Before going into the cottage, she paused and let out a long breath. A good day to be over.

“Seppo said you had a run-in with the guard at the market,” Soot said while Eva cleaned up after dinner.

Eva’s chest tightened at the mention of the ordeal, but she told him about her conversation with Rose on the fountain steps and the ensuing conflict.

“Bah,” Soot said, waving his good hand, dismissing Rose’s news. “That beggar woman loves to tell a good story.”

“But they were searching the marketplace,” Eva insisted. “And the guards stopped us because they thought Seppo had something to do with the Scrawls.”

“Well, whatever it is, the lord commander was right to tell you to stay at home the next few days,” Soot said. “You don’t want to get mixed up in any business with the Gyr.”

“How do you know him?” Eva asked. “Isn’t he the king’s brother?”

Soot fell silent for a long moment and cleared his throat. Eva already knew what was coming — her foster father did the same thing whenever Eva asked about Soot’s past, her parents, or any other subjects he didn’t like to discuss.

“We’ve met once or twice,” Soot said. “When I was an apprentice and journeyman, my master was a smith at the Gyr.”

Eva’s head jerked up as she put their last bowl away in the shelf. “You’ve been in the Gyr? You never told me that!”

Soot mumbled something under his breath and rubbed his bald head. “For a short time.”

“What’s it like?” Eva asked, rushing to his side. Hardly anyone other than the gryphon riders ever set foot in the mysterious mountain fortress. As a child, Eva often imagined what the halls of the Gyr must look like — according to the stories it was a stronghold of the Ancients, abandoned for hundreds of years until the Sorondarans and their gryphons settled the valley of Rhylance.

The smith shrugged. “I didn’t see much other than the forge. It was a fine workshop but nothing out of the ordinary to speak of.”

Eva’s hopes fell, and she gritted her teeth in frustration. Getting anything out of Soot was like trying to wring water from a stone: in the end, your well of information was as dry as when you started.

“But the lord commander knew you and Seppo,” Eva said. “And I know you didn’t have Seppo around while you were a journeyman.”

“Right,” Soot said. “Well, how many other golems have you heard of in the capital?”

“But —”

“Gryphon riders aren’t folk you want to get mixed up with,” the smith said in a tone conveying the conversation was over. “They’re… trouble — whether they mean it or not.”

Eva’s mind flashed back to the dashing young rider who’d come to her rescue that morning. “They can’t be that bad,” she said. “If they get into trouble, I’m sure it’s just because they’re protecting Rhylance.”

“You’d be surprised,” Soot muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing!” Flustered, her foster father rose from his chair. “We’ve got a full day ahead; you won’t get the morning off to get into trouble at the market tomorrow. Time for bed!”

Agitated but knowing she wouldn’t get any more out of Soot, Eva retired to her small room and flopped down on her straw mattress. No sooner had she closed her eyes than she opened them again, restless and tired but unable to sleep. She listened to Seppo’s heavy footfalls outside as he wandered around the yard, no doubt tempted to pick up work in the forge again, in spite of Soot’s nightly reminders. They’d tried locking him in the cottage before, but the golem’s size meant he could hardly move without knocking over chairs or breaking something.

Eva replayed her run-in with the gryphon riders and Soot’s begrudging conversation over and over. Frustrated, she rolled on her side and slid a hand beneath her mattress. When she pulled it free, a soft white light glowed through the cracks in her fist.

As Eva opened her fingers, the opaque stone’s glow lit up her room like a full moon. Twisting the stone’s silver chain around her fingers, Eva held it above her face, watching the lights fade and change from white to gold, pink, and sky blue. Eva felt a familiar calm settle over her, just like every time she held the necklace.

Soot called it a Wonder, an artifact from the days of the Ancients. They came in all shapes and sizes and did all sorts of things — crystal lanterns with endless light, weapons and tools that never lost their edges, and more. Although some were rarer than others (Eva once heard a customer at the forge talking about a cauldron that boiled water without a fire), few even among the nobility could claim to own such a treasure. As such, Soot had kept a close eye on Eva whenever she played with the Wonder as a child. He’d also made her promise not to tell her friends or anyone else about the stone.

To Eva, it was more than just a peculiar shining stone and pretty necklace. It was the only thing she owned that had belonged to her parents and almost the only thing Soot had ever told Eva about them. Her father had given it to her mother before he died in battle. Not long after, Eva’s mother had died, too, giving birth to her.

“They were good friends,” Soot would say whenever Eva persuaded him to share what little he would about her parents. “And they loved each other like you wouldn’t believe.”

Eva stared at the stone for a few more minutes, thinking of the gryphon rider once again. For all the stress and embarrassment she’d been through, he’d almost made it worth it. Once more, she berated herself for being so shy and awkward. Chances were they’d never meet again.

Trying not to think about it, Eva curled her hand around the Wonder stone and rolled onto her side. She pulled her blanket up and soon drifted to sleep.

It felt like only moments later when a ruckus from the chickens pulled Eva from her slumber. Silently cursing the dumb birds, Eva readjusted herself on the mattress and started to doze again.

The chickens squawked and fussed again. This time, Eva sat up in bed. As she did, her blanket slid down, and the light from her mother’s stone spilled across the room once more. Eva grabbed the Wonder, stuffing it under her mattress, and peeked out the window.

Outside, the yard was empty and silent. Eva held her breath, listening for the sound of Seppo going to investigate. He often whiled away the night on the lookout for foxes or raccoons brazen enough to steal one of the chickens or raid the nests. It couldn’t be him upsetting the birds — they’d grown so accustomed to the big golem that Eva had to constantly shoo them off his shoulders or spend the next few hours scrubbing their white droppings from his iron plates.

The chickens set up a third distress call, and Eva rose out of her bed, wide awake. Where was Seppo? She’d just thrown a cloak over her nightgown when the golem’s clanking footsteps and shadowed figure passed her window, heading for the coop. Eva relaxed as he passed out of sight then listened for the sound of Seppo chasing off whatever kept harassing the chickens.

Her senses spiked again when the golem spoke. “Who are you?”

A flash of light illuminated Eva’s window, followed by the crash of iron plates.

“Seppo?” she whispered out the window. Although the chickens remained silent, the golem didn’t answer.

Heart pounding in her chest, Eva crossed her room and made to wake Soot, still snoring in the room next to hers. She paused, hand poised over his door, and for reasons she couldn’t explain, slid out the cottage toward the chicken coop.

In her bare feet, Eva crossed the yard in silence, footsteps muffled by the short grass. Something squished under her foot, and Eva bit back a hiss when she lifted it up and found chicken dropping smeared across her heel.

Eva paused at the corner of the forge. Over the nervous clucks of the chickens a voice whispered something in a strange language. She risked a peek around the side of the building and stifled a gasp of surprise.

Seppo lay stock still on his back, arms and legs clasped to his sides. A small, hooded figure bent over him, one hand hovering a few inches from his chest plate, still muttering in an indiscernible tongue. At first, Eva thought the golem was dead — until she saw the glow of his sapphire-colored orbs.

Eva froze as the person paused, pressing herself against the wall, hoping they hadn’t seen her. She held back a sigh of relief as the mumbling continued. Looking down, she spotted a rock the size of a crab apple at her feet and squatted to pick it up with a shaking hand.

Eva peered around the corner, saw the figure still crouched over Seppo, and let the rock fly.

The stone hit the person in the hood, and they toppled over sideways with a grunt before struggling to rise. At the same time, Seppo’s limbs came back to life, and the golem rolled over with surprising speed, grabbing the mysterious assailant around the ankle.

With a firm grip on his attacker, Seppo rose, the hooded person dangling upside down from the golem’s outstretched hand. As they kicked and squirmed, the hood fell away, revealing a boy no more than a dozen years old. Eva knew at once he was a Scrawl from the dark blue rune tattoos covering his shaved head and exposed arms.

“Lemme go!” he hissed before dropping back into the same strange tongue he’d been speaking before. Eva jumped back. The boy’s rune markings started to glow.

Surprised, Seppo dropped the boy on his head, and the intruder crashed to the ground. The Scrawl moaned and sat up, shaking his head. As soon as his chanting stopped, the glowing script on his body faded and a satchel at his side fell open. Eva gasped as a large, rounded object rolled out of it, stopping at her feet.

It was a gryphon egg.

A blood-red egg the size of Eva’s head.

Chapter Four

The Scrawl boy scrambled forward, but before he could snatch up the egg Seppo clamped a hand around his neck and lifted him off the ground again.

“Let me go, I said!” He kicked and squirmed but this time didn’t utter any incantations. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Eva stared at the egg. Almost as if compelled by another force, she sank to her knees and reached out for it. In her mind, she became aware of a steady thumping, a heartbeat not her own. When her fingertips brushed the egg, she was surprised to find it warm to the touch. She picked it up in both hands, and the heartbeat increased until it pounded in her ears. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought it quivered in her palms.

“What shall we do with this intruder, Mistress Evelyn?” Seppo asked. The boy hung from the golem’s grip like a kitten in its mother’s mouth, surly and pouting. Seppo gave him a slight shake and watched to see if anything else fell out of his cloak. “I think we should break his legs.”

Eva broke her gaze away from the egg. “What? No! We’re not going to hurt him!”

Seppo sighed, from wounded pride, Eva guessed, when the boy had rendered him immobile on the ground. “Very well. Shall I take him to Master Wayland?”

Without waiting for an answer, he began to stomp toward the cottage, both Eva and the boy hissing in quiet protest.

“Wait!” Eva said, jumping in front of him and holding up a hand. “Just wait!”

She wrapped the egg in her cloak and nestled it close to her, feeling an odd urge to protect it, similar to the feeling that compelled her not to wake Soot. “How did you come by this egg, thief?”

The boy frowned at her, still fidgeting in Seppo’s grip. “I’m not going to say anything until this thing puts me down!”

Eva nodded at Seppo, who responded by raising the Scrawl higher in the air before letting go to let him fall in a heap on the ground.

“I am not a thing,” the golem said for the second time that day. “I am Seppo.”

“Don’t try to run,” Eva warned the boy, attempting to sound braver than she felt. “He’s almost as fast as a horse, and he could snap your legs like twigs. Now, where did you get this egg?”

“I saved it!” Scrawl said. “The egg was in danger — someone wanted to destroy it!”

“I think he stole it,” Seppo said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No! Please, you have to believe me,” The Scrawl paused and took a deep breath. “I…I had a vision. If I hadn’t stolen the egg, it would have been destroyed, and…it was meant for you. It’s no coincidence that I’m here. I saw this place — and you. That’s how I knew where to come.”

Eva stared. “What?”

The boy nodded his tattooed head toward the egg nestled in the crook of Eva’s arm. “It feels right, doesn’t it? The egg? It was meant for you.”

The egg pulsed again, and she felt its warmth through her clothes, making her skin tingle. A second thought struck her and replaced the tingling with a weight in the pit of her stomach: she was holding the stolen gryphon egg — the egg the entire palace guard and Windsworn were looking for. Even so, for reasons she couldn’t explain, it felt like the boy told the truth.

“Here,” Eva said, unwrapping the egg and pushing it into the boy’s hands. “It’s not meant for me. You’ve made a mistake. I’m…no.”

“May I make an observation, Mistress Evelyn?” Seppo cut in. “It seems a very poor idea to give the egg to the person who stole it in the first place.”

Eva held a finger to her lips, afraid the golem would wake up Soot if he carried on much longer. She looked down at the boy, a head shorter than her. For some reason, she felt he was telling at least part of the truth. Of course, the egg couldn’t be for her, but she couldn’t help but believe he really was looking after it.

“Look, I don’t know why you think I’m the one you needed to bring the egg to, but you got it wrong.” She paused. “You can sleep in our woodshed overnight, and I’ll bring you something to eat in the morning. But then you have to leave.”

The Scrawl wrapped the egg up and placed in back in his satchel. “I appreciate your…hospitality…and I’m sure after a night’s sleep you’ll come around.”

“No,” Eva began. “I think you misunder —”

“Eva, what in the Tempest is going on out there?”

Eva froze at the sound of Soot’s voice, but Seppo filled the ensuing silence.

“We have apprehended the thief, Master Wayland!”

The boy’s eyes went wide, and he stared at Eva.

“Quick!” she hissed, spinning him around and shoving him toward the shed. “Get inside!”

Without further encouragement, the boy ran for the woodshed and ducked inside, closing the door behind him. Eva turned around just as Soot rounded the corner, rubbing his eyes.

“You two are raising enough racket to wake the dead,” the smith said. He looked at Eva. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

Eva jumped in before Seppo could reveal anything else, the lie spilling out easier than she expected. “Something was in with the chickens. I ran out to scare it off. Sorry for the noise.”

Soot studied her, and Eva wasn’t sure if he believed her or not.

“And you?” he said, looking at Seppo. “Where were you, you big pile of slag?”

“I was here!” Seppo protested. “It was I who caught the thief and —”

“Yes!” Eva said in a loud voice. “It was a raccoon, trying to get inside the coop to steal the eggs. I chased it out, but Seppo caught it. Don’t think we’ll have to worry about that one again.”

She finished with a weak laugh, stomach rolling, and hoped her foster father bought the story. Sure as sky, Soot wouldn’t believe the boy’s story — even if he gave the Scrawl half a chance to explain himself in the first place. Eva did her best not to glance toward the woodshed as Soot looked around the yard.

After what felt like forever, the smith yawned and headed back to the cottage. “All right, back to bed,” he told Eva. “You’ll be dragging your feet as it is tomorrow.” Soot paused to point a gnarled finger at Seppo. “And you. Keep it down!”

As Soot turned away, Seppo looked at Eva, and she knew the golem was dying to say something. She held a finger to her lips and gritted her teeth, shaking her head. Exasperated, Seppo shook his head and stomped away, muttering.

When morning arrived, Eva woke early enough to sneak out a heel of bread and bucket of water to the woodshed. Crossing the yard, she found herself hoping the boy was gone — or better yet that the whole thing had been a wild dream. When she opened the door, however, Eva found the Scrawl sitting cross-legged on the ground, the red gryphon egg nestled in his lap.

“Here,” she said, handing him the bread and setting the pail down beside him. “You need to leave soon. If Seppo sees you again, I can’t promise he won’t hand you over to Soot.”

The boy shook his head. “You have to take the egg. And I’m not leaving until you do.”

Exasperated, Eva opened her mouth to argue, but the Scrawl cut her off.

“Who’s Soot?” he asked through a gigantic mouthful of bread.

“The blacksmith!” Eva said.

“Your husband?”

“What? No!” Eva wasn’t sure to laugh or be appalled. “He’s…he raised me.”

The boy nodded. Stuffing the rest of the bread into his mouth, he offered up a hand, covered with rune tattoos. “My name’s Ivan.”

Eva hesitated. Like everyone else, she’d heard the old wives’ tale that Scrawls could kill with a touch. Ivan extended it again, however, and she took it feeling the same when their hands fell apart as before. “Good to meet you, Ivan. I’m Eva. But really, you’ve got to go. I —”

Ivan nodded as she spoke. “I know who you are. I told you, I saw you in my vision. That’s why I’m staying. You’ve got to take the egg.”

Once more, he reached into his satchel and held it out for her. On impulse, Eva’s hands rose. She wondered if the egg was still warm, if it still pulsed…but no. Eva shook her head, pulling her hands back.

“You should be gone by nightfall,” she said. “Soot usually has Seppo or me fetch the wood for the furnace, but I can’t promise that Seppo won’t reveal you — he’s still upset about whatever you did to him last night.”

Ivan shook his head after taking a long draught of water. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, folding his arms over his chest and the satchel. “I’m supposed to be here, with you and the egg.”

“It won’t go well for you if Soot finds you. He’ll turn you over to the gryphon riders.”

The boy shrugged again, as if Eva were a little girl telling him about her imaginary friends. The gesture infuriated her more each time he did it. But before she could argue with Ivan anymore, Soot’s voice rang out over the sound of hammer striking anvil.

“Eva, where’s that water? I’m getting parched in here, girl!”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Eva said as she closed the door. In answer, Ivan smiled and waved.

Throughout the remainder of the day, Eva couldn’t stop thinking about Ivan and the egg, especially the way she’d felt when holding it. She wondered how long the boy would wait before he gave up and left. And what was all that nonsense about seeing into the future? Although the Scrawls kept much of their rune lore to themselves, Eva felt certain none of them could use it to see things that hadn’t happened yet. Rune magic, as far as she knew, only worked on real things, like people, animals, objects, and the elements. Fortune-telling and all that sort of mystic mumbo jumbo had nothing to do with real magic. It just didn’t work that way.

But that didn’t explain how Eva felt while holding the gryphon egg. The thought sent a shiver through her. She’d never felt so…complete. Ever since, there’d been a pressing need to experience that again, like an itch she couldn’t quite reach to scratch.

A shower of sparks brought Eva back to the present as Soot pounded away at a cherry-red wagon axle. She smacked the tiny embers stinging her neck and pulled her leather cap down tighter to cover her hair. The forge was no place for daydreaming, and Eva had her fair share of burn marks and scars like any other smith’s assistant. Whenever she got careless in her work, Soot told her stories of careless smiths who’d lost limbs, been killed or horribly disfigured. Chastising herself for her carelessness, Eva refocused on the job at hand.

Due to their heavy workload, the day passed by without a chance for Eva to check on Ivan again. Even so, something told her the Scrawl hadn’t gone anywhere. For his part, Seppo acted as if the whole thing hadn’t happened — at least while the forge preoccupied him. Soot held a deep-rooted love for the forge that Eva shared to a lesser degree, but the golem lived to work with hammer and hot iron.

On rare occasions when work ran slow, Seppo grew restless and they’d wake up one morning to find random pieces of intricate metalwork he’d crafted to pass the time. Once, he’d made a rose so lifelike that, aside from its metal color, looked like it could have just been picked. At the moment, Seppo pounded away with a hammer Soot could barely lift, humming a weird noise akin to a cat’s purr mixed with wind chimes.

When they stopped for the night, Eva felt even more tired and dirty than the day before. After picking up their tools, she and Soot and walked over to rinse away the grime. When Soot finished, Eva waited until he’d gone in the house before sprinting over to the woodshed. She opened the door and blew out a long sigh. Ivan was gone.

Chapter Five

Eva prepared dinner for the night and tried not to think about Ivan, or the gryphon egg. Now that he was gone, Eva wondered if she’d done the right thing by letting the Scrawl go, wondered if she should have told Soot. The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt. What if the Windsworn captured Ivan and the Scrawl confessed she’d helped him? She swallowed hard and tried not to think about it, although the implications weighed on her until it felt like Seppo stood on her chest.

“Why so glum?” Soot asked after he’d finished eating. He wiped his whiskered face with the back of his hand and smacked his lips. “I swear, each stew you make is better than the last!”

Eva managed a weak smile as she cleared the table. Soot continued to watch, face softening. “Eva, maybe we’ve been working a little hard lately — how about you take the afternoon off tomorrow and visit the library? Seppo and I can take care of things.”

“All right,” Eva said, trying hard to sound more excited than she was. It didn’t work.

“Look here,” Soot said and put an arm around her. “I’m sorry about the other day. All that talk of Windsworn caught me off guard. It’s… been a long time since I had any reminders of that life. Some things are hard to remember.”

Eva nodded, too flustered to even attempt to pry more information from Soot about “that life.” After washing their bowls at the water pump, she excused herself to bed. Leaving Soot to his nightly ruminations out on the porch, she opened the door to her bedroom. Ready to collapse on her straw mattress, Eva instead stifled a scream.

Ivan sat cross-legged on the middle of her bed. When their eyes met, he grinned. “I thought you’d never go to bed,” he whispered. “Didn’t bring any food, did you?”

Eva shot a worried glance out her window. “What are you still doing here?” she hissed, afraid even the slightest noise would alert Soot. “I thought you left!”

“I did. Well, the shed anyway. It got too hot and cramped — this is much better!”

Eva stared in disbelief, her throat tight as panic gripped her. Not only was she hiding a thief wanted by the king, but what if he’d found her Wonder?

“You can’t stay here!” Eva said, rushing to her mattress and pushing the Scrawl aside. She shoved her hand underneath her bed, her panic doubling when her hand found nothing.

“Are you looking for this?” Ivan said, holding up the twinkling Wonder stone. “I’ve been studying it. It’s really quite the thing — of all the places to find a relic of the Ancients, I never would have guessed a blacksmith’s daughter would have one! Where did you get it?”

Eva snatched the necklace out of the Scrawl’s grasp and held it close, smothering its light.

“Get out!”

“Fine,” Ivan said, voice rising. “I just wanted a little company after a whole day in that woodshed, and this is the thanks I get.” Shooting Eva a dirty look, he hitched one leg over the lip of the window.

Eva’s heart raced, and she stumbled forward, dragging the Scrawl back down onto her bedding. “Not now!” she hissed, fighting to keep her voice down. “Soot’s out on the porch — he’ll see you!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Ivan whispered back. “One second you say I have to go; the next you’re telling me to stay — you Sorondarans don’t make any sense.”

“You have to wait. Until. Soot. Comes. In,” Eva said, teeth gritted. “Now go over there in the corner, and don’t move until I say.”

No sooner had Ivan slumped down in the corner than Eva heard the porch creak as Soot rose to retire for bed. She held her breath when his heavy footfalls paused outside her door.

“Eva?” Soot said. “You awake in there?”

As quiet as she could, Eva lowered herself onto the mattress and closed her eyes, her thumping heart pounding in her ears. After a long moment, she heard her foster father sigh and walk away. Eva’s eyes shot open, and she help up a hand as Ivan started to cross the room.

“Not yet,” she mouthed, holding up her hands to show Soot had to fall asleep first. Ivan winked, which irritated her even more, and sat back on the floor. He only sat still for a few moments before reaching into his satchel and pulling out the gryphon egg again.

Eva stared at it, transfixed by the way the faint moonlight shimmered on its blood-red surface. Seeing her looking at it, Ivan held it out to her. Eva hesitated and bit her lip, torn by indecisiveness. Ivan stretched his arms out again, encouraging, and Eva relented.

As soon as her hands wrapped around the egg, a thrill rushed through her. Stifling a gasp, she sat back cross-legged and sat it in her lap. The beating sound filled her mind, matching the rhythm of her own heart. When she stretched out a trembling hand again, the egg quivered at her touch. Eva held it for a long time, lost in the sensation until sleep started to overtake her.

She looked up to see Ivan already asleep and heard Soot snoring in the next room. Fighting to keep her eyes open, Eva lay down and curled around the egg, lulled to sleep by its reassuring heartbeats.

When morning came, Eva bolted upright in bed, the sounds of drums filling her head. She looked around her room, still half-asleep. The sight of Ivan scratching runes into the floor jolted her awake.

“Why are you still here?” she asked in a loud whisper.

Ivan shrugged. “You fell asleep! I didn’t think it would hurt anything.”

Eva glanced out the window and saw the sun already high in the sky. For some reason, Soot had let her sleep in. Panic overwhelmed her, and the beat of the gryphon egg pounded in her mind like a drum.

“What am I going to do?” Eva asked herself, running her hands over and over through her long, tangled hair. “What am I going to do?”

A shadow crossed her window, followed by the sound of heavy wings beating. Eva’s insides froze. Outside in the yard, feathers shook, and a screech sounded, deeper and louder than any eagle’s. The gryphon riders were visiting.

Shaking, Eva pulled herself up high enough to peek over the bottom of her window. Three gryphons filled the small yard between the cottage and the forge, riders just sliding off their backs. Eva’s breath caught in her throat, terror momentarily forgotten at her first sight of the magnificent creatures up close.

The white, gray, and brown plumage of each gryphon glowed like burnished metal in the sunshine. As each rider stepped aside, they folded their enormous wings and shook their great eagles’ heads, causing a shiver to run down Eva’s back. The gryphons were shorter than most horses but carried more muscle on their feline frames than even the war-horses Eva saw knights riding in the parades. From the curve of their yellow beaks to their long, wicked front talons and massive back paws, each creature made a fearsome sight on its own as they switched their long, tufted tails.

As Soot and Seppo came out of the forge to meet the riders, Eva noticed for the first time who their visitors were: Lord Commander Andor and his dashing young rider, alongside a surly girl Eva hoped she never had reason to meet. With a mop of spiky dark hair and a sharp nose, she looked every bit as fierce as the giant half-eagle she rode.

“Soot!” the lord commander shouted, slapping Eva’s foster father on the shoulder. “By the sky, it’s good to see you, old friend. How are you?”

Although Soot looked uneasy, a small smile crossed his face, surprising Eva. “I’m well enough. It’s been awhile, Andor.”

“Too long,” the lord commander said. “I saw Seppo with your…assistant at the market the other day — I hoped you would have been there with them.” Stepping back, he gestured to the two riders standing behind him. “These two are wing leaders in training: Tahl, and the young woman is Sigrid.”

As the lord commander started telling Soot about the egg theft, Eva stared at the young rider from the market. Tahl. His wind-tousled hair only accented his good looks. Eva wasn’t sure, but she imagined he looked around the yard while the older men talked, as if searching for her.

“— don’t know how this is going to turn out. Devana was one of our greatest,” Andor continued. “And we still haven’t found her egg or the thief.”

“How’d they do it?” Soot asked

“There was a Choosing,” Andor said, “But Devana wasn’t ready to give up her egg — she was back in the nest. That’s how the thief got away: Most of the riders were in the city for the night. Whoever stole the egg killed Devana and somehow escaped the Gyr before anyone knew something was amiss.”

Eva felt a sickening burning, like a lump of iron in the bottom of her stomach. She slid down onto her bed and looked at Ivan.

“You…” she said, fighting the urge to throw up. “You killed a gryphon?”

“No!” Ivan hissed. “No, I never! I found the gryphon like that — I told you I stole the egg to protect it.”

Eva shook her head. “I-I don’t know what to think,” she said. A million thoughts raced through her mind, the beating of the egg muffling and mixing them even more. Before she could say anything else, however, the lord commander’s voice carried through the window.

“Speaking of which, where is the girl?”

“I let her sleep in a bit this morning,” Eva heard Soot say. “She wasn’t feeling well last night, but she should be up by now. Eva! Seppo, go see if she’s awake.”

Fear coursing through her, Eva snatched up the gryphon egg and held it out for Ivan. “Quick! Seppo’s coming; you’ve got to go!”

Ivan took the egg for a moment and then held it out to her again as Seppo’s iron-shod footsteps neared Eva’s window. “I can’t take it — it’s hatching!”

Before she knew what was happening, Ivan passed the egg back into her hands. Sure enough, the egg wobbled and jerked. Eva’s head spun, and she pushed it back to Ivan.

“Take it! Take it!”

The Scrawl folded his arms and shook his head. “Look, you’re just not getting it, Eva,” he said in a tone far too condescending for his age. “And I’m tired of explaining things.”

“What’s he doing here?”

Eva squeaked in surprise and almost dropped the egg as she spun around to find Seppo’s head poking through her open shutters. She glanced at Ivan. Beneath his dark blue rune markings, the Scrawl’s face went pale. The gryphon egg continued to shudder in Eva’s hands, tiny cracks spreading across its smooth surface like spiderwebs.

“Eva, what’s going on?” Soot asked as more footsteps approached. Finally deciding it might be time to leave, Ivan yanked opened the bedroom door.

“Not this time!” Seppo yelled. Eva heard the front door slam open, followed by a brief scuffle. Rooted to the spot, Eva could only stare at the egg as the pounding in her head magnified even more and a little beak poked through the blood-red shell.

“Aha!” Seppo’s voice rang out triumphant. At the same time, Soot, the lord commander, and Tahl appeared in the window. When they saw Eva standing inside with a hatching gryphon egg cupped in her hands, their eyes went wide.

No one spoke.

“I…I can explain.” Eva began.

Before she could say anything else, an angry peep filled the silence. A curved talon burst out of the egg, followed by another. Eva lowered the half-broken shell to the floor, and in one sudden motion the entire gryphon hatchling burst free of the egg.

A crashing sound rose in the kitchen, and Eva’s bedroom door flew open. Seppo held Ivan tucked under one arm and ducked down to fit his head inside. His eyes fell to the gryphon chick on the floor, and he shouted in delight.

“Now that’s something you don’t see every day!”

Chapter Six

Eva opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. No one else said anything either. Shaking the last of the eggshell and ichor free from its rusty fur and rose-colored down, the gryphon chick growled and screeched again. It was about the size of a half-grown cat, tumbling around as it tried to stand on its little paws and talons.

“I see you’ve had some adventures since we met,” Andor said. The tone of his voice matched his piercing, cold eyes.

“How?” Soot began. “Why —”

“I meant to tell you,” Eva said. Like a dam overflowing, the words rushed out. “He just showed up two nights ago, and he told me he’d seen this vision and the egg had to stay with me and I didn’t know what to do because it felt so strange but Ivan wouldn’t go away and —”

Soot held up a hand. “Slow down. Take a deep breath.”

“I believe I can be of assistance,” Seppo said in a cheerful voice. “We found this Scrawl in the woodshed two nights ago. He had stolen the gryphon egg. I wanted to tell you right away, but Mistress Evelyn said not to.”

Eva groaned. “Thanks, Seppo.”

The golem missed the sarcasm. “Of course!”

“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Soot asked. “That stolen egg could start a war, and you were the one hiding the thief from the king and the Gyr!”

Eva looked at the floor, fighting the urge to vomit as she started to quake. The gryphon hatchling let out an angry squawk and turned its bright yellow eyes to her. Kneeling down before she collapsed, Eva stretched out a cautious hand to comfort the chick.

“Ow!”

The gryphon’s tiny beak bit down hard, and Eva yanked her hand back, blood welling out of a gash in her finger.

“Careful!” Andor warned. “That’s no stray kitten.”

While Soot and Tahl left to search for a pair of irons to place on Ivan — the Scrawl had remained tucked under Seppo’s arm throughout the whole ordeal — the lord commander and the dark-haired girl, Sigrid, joined Eva in the kitchen, where she’d carefully picked up the nipping gryphon chick and placed it on the table. When she sat it down, it screeched louder, drawing a series of concerned cries from its full-grown relations outside.

“Sigrid, go calm them down, will you?” Andor asked. The girl nodded, a deep scowl on her face as she watched Eva and the hatchling before leaving the room.

“He needs fresh meat,” Andor said, watching the chick stumble across the table, pecking and scratching at the wood with its beak. “I’m afraid one of your chickens will have to serve.”

“What are you going to do to Ivan?” Eva asked. “Please don’t hurt him! I…I think he’s telling the truth.”

Andor studied her for a long moment. “Don’t worry,” he said at last, “the Scrawl boy will get a fair trial according to the king’s law. Right now, you’ve got plenty of your own problems, Evelyn.”

Eva’s fear rushed back tenfold. “Am I…will I be arrested, too?”

The lord commander shook his head. “No, but I hope you know you did a damn foolish thing and got very lucky.”

“I’m sorry,” Eva said, staring at the floor. “I guess I made a mess of things.”

Andor’s expression softened. “It could have been worse. But this little terror needs to be fed. Let’s get him taken care of, and we’ll talk more.”

As soon as Soot and Tahl had a compliant Ivan secured and placed under Seppo’s watchful eyes once more, the smith stomped off to the chicken coop, returning soon after with a limp Ms. Cluck Cluck swinging from his fist. To stave off the guilt when Soot began to pluck the dead chicken, Eva reminded herself of all the times the hen attacked her when she’d gone to gather eggs.

“Tahl, let the Gyr know the egg’s been found,” Andor said as soon as the young rider joined them around the table. “Let the Council know everything is fine. I’ll give them a full report later this evening.”

Shooting her a reassuring smile, Tahl tapped his right fist against his heart in salute to his commander and left. Eva watched him go — until Soot walked in, with the plucked chicken, blocking her view.

The smell of fresh blood drove the chick wild, and Eva stretched across the table to grab him before he fell off, intent on reaching Soot as the smith cut the meat into small chunks.

“Watch your fingers this time,” Andor cautioned when Soot handed Eva the first bits.

“Sorry, Ms. Cluck Cluck,” Eva said under her breath. She held out the first bit of raw chicken to the gryphon hatchling. The chick’s head shot out and snatched the meat from between her fingers faster than Eva expected. With a flick of his tiny head, the baby gryphon swallowed it whole and hissed for another.

By the time it stopped shrieking for more, the chick had eaten almost half of the hen. Hunger sated, the baby gryphon curled up in a fluffy ball on the middle of the table and fell asleep almost at once. Under Andor’s guidance, Eva slid her hands under the chick and transferred it into a crude nest made of her blankets, careful not to wake the gryphon.

“Eva, please excuse me to talk with Soot for a moment,” Andor said.

Exhausted, Eva nodded and stepped out of the cottage, shutting the door behind her. By now, a small crowd stood on the edge of the street, talking and pointing at Sigrid and the two remaining gryphons still standing in the yard.

“Everyone, stay back!” Sigrid commanded the onlookers. “Windsworn business; be on your way.”

Eva ducked around the house out of sight before anyone thought to come question her about what was going on. There she found Seppo standing over Ivan. The Scrawl’s wrists and ankles were in irons, and a strip of cloth kept him from uttering any kennings. When he saw Eva, his face brightened, and he raised his manacled hands in greeting as if they’d just run into one another on the street. Eva shook her head, wondering how the Scrawl could be cheerful as she sat bound in chains and about to be arrested. Part of her thought she might trade him places, though, given the chance.

“My, what an exciting day it’s been already!” Seppo said as if it all were some treat. “I wonder what’s in store for the rest of it?”

Not feeling like talking, Eva slumped down on the ground beneath her window and buried her hands in her face. Instead of relief, however, she heard the lord commander’s voice from the kitchen.

“She can’t stay here, Soot. The chick bonded with her.”

“You know she can’t go to the Gyr,” Soot replied. “What if —”

“It doesn’t matter now. The egg hatched for her, Soot. The red egg. The gryphon of a generation.”

Eva sucked in a sharp breath, a lump forming in her throat. After a long pause, she heard Soot sigh.

“I’ll go speak with her,” Andor said.

Eva blinked back her tears and stood, pretending like she hadn’t heard anything. When Andor rounded the corner, she met him with a blank expression.

“Come with me,” the lord commander said and gestured toward the forge.

The murmur of the crowd faded, and Eva felt like she was walking down a tunnel. Inside the forge, Andor led them out of sight before turning to face her. Her chest tightened. Twice, Andor opened his mouth to speak. Eva couldn’t do anything but stare, wide eyed, heart pounding.

“Eva, there’s something you should know,” he began.

A long paused followed. Eva didn’t know if she was supposed to ask what, or if she could talk even if she needed to.

“When the chick hatched, it bonded to you,” the lord commander said at last. “Do you know what that means?”

“I…” Eva surprised herself by speaking. “I’m not sure.”

“It means you have to return to the Gyr with us,” Andor said not in an unkind voice. “You will live with the other new recruits and train to become Windsworn.”

Eva felt her world crashing down around her. “No! You don’t understand. I…” She trailed off, not sure where to even begin. “I’m not Windsworn material. I belong here, with Soot and Seppo!”

For some odd reason, Andor’s lips twitched in a brief smile at that. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter,” he said, serious once more. “Had the egg not hatched, it would be a different story. But the bond between gryphon and human is not something that can be broken. And Devana’s egg held a very special gryphon.”

If that was intended to make Eva feel better, it didn’t. She felt tears welling her eyes again but couldn’t stop them a second time. “I didn’t mean for it to hatch,” she said. Alone with Andor in the forge, she felt small and alone. “I only did what I thought was right.”

“I’m sorry, Eva,” the lord commander said. It sounded more like a remark on the weather than an apology and left no room for debate. “It’s not like you’ll never see Soot or Seppo again, however. You’ll be allowed to visit them on leave. Right now, I need you to be brave and trust me. Please go pack your things and say goodbye.”

And that ended it. Tears rolling down her face, Eva nodded. Body numb, she walked across the yard in a daze, struggling to grasp the morning’s events. Lost and confused, she almost ran into the cottage door. Instead, Soot opened it and beckoned Eva inside, out of sight of the growing crowd.

As soon as the door shut, Eva collapsed into her foster father’s embrace, sobbing. Soot didn’t say anything, just held her tight, which somehow made it all worse. After a few minutes passed, Eva shuddered and pulled herself away, gulping air while she wiped away the tears with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said in between gasps. “Don’t make me leave, p-please. I’m s-s-sorry…”

She looked up and saw tears running down the grooves in Soot’s forge-beaten face. “It’ll be okay, Eva,” he said and forced a rare, awkward smile. “You weren’t meant to stay here forever! This is an opportunity hundreds of boys and girls all across Rhylance would die for.”

Eva swallowed and nodded, wishing Ivan had hidden in one of the sheds of those hundreds of boys and girls. Soot gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “Remember what I always say: when you’ve got a job to do, it’s better to face the fire head on.”

It didn’t take long. Although Soot’s business prospered and they never went without, Eva had few personal belongings. Her mother’s Wonder stone, a few coarse shirts and leather leggings spattered with tiny burn holes from working in the forge, a dress for festivals and holidays, a carved bone hair comb, and a couple of battered books made up the extent of her belongings.

As she placed each item in the bag, Eva’s mind whirled, still trying to grasp everything happening. Two mornings ago, she’d just been a smith’s assistant. Now…she didn’t know what she was now, but she would have given anything to go back.

In the kitchen, a basket with lid straps sat on the table. Soot stood in the middle of the room, looking lost and unsure, for the first time Eva could remember. Outside, Eva heard the crowd gasp and the calls of at least one more gryphon.

“They’re coming to get the Scrawl,” Soot said, voice dull and muted compared to its normal booming ring. He gestured to the basket on the table. “Andor put your gryphon inside.”

Eva rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her foster father once more. “Oh, Soot!”

The smith wrapped her in his arms, once more patted her on the back. “You go up to that mountain, and show everyone what you’re made of, Eva,” he said. “You’re like good steel; you bend, but you don’t break. Just remember that — when things get hard.”

Eva pressed her face harder against Soot’s rough leather apron, trying to fight back the tears. Soot cleared his throat again.

“Your parents…they’d be proud of you,” he said at last. “I know I am.”

It was high praise from Soot, who didn’t dole out needless compliments. Swallowing hard, Eva nodded and wiped her face. She blew out a long breath then turned for the door.

Outside, two more gryphons stood in the yard, sunlight shining on their bronze-and-tan bodies. Their riders escorted Ivan between them, toward the large creatures. A long line of city and palace guards separated the crowd from the proceedings.

“Where are they taking him?” Eva asked, awful images of Ivan being fed to the gryphons or dropped out of the sky flashing across her mind.

“To the Gyr,” Andor said, taking the basket with the gryphon chick from Eva. “He’ll be held there until a trial is set. Sigrid will take the chick, and you will ride with me. Ready?”

Eva felt her stomach sink and a dull emptiness fill her. So, this was it.

“Goodbye, Mistress Evelyn,” Seppo said. He spread his arms in an awkward invitation for a hug. Eva let out a dry laugh at how funny it looked but wrapped her arms around the golem’s waist anyway.

“Goodbye, Seppo,” she said after. “Take care of Soot for me, all right?”

“An almost impossible task, but I will do my best,” the golem said. Eva laughed and looked at Soot, who scowled at Seppo. When his eyes met Eva’s however, he looked away, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Stop by when you can,” the smith said, his gruff voice strained. “You hear, Andor? You send her to visit.”

Unable to speak, Eva rushed forward and embraced the only father she’d ever known. She felt Soot’s thick arms enfold her and sobbed into his coarse shirt.

“None of that now,” Soot whispered in her ear. He held Eva at arm’s length and wiped away the tears from her aching red eyes. “Show ’em what you’re made of, eh?”

Andor walked away toward his gryphon, and Eva hefted her pack to follow. She was painfully aware of the dozens of people watching, which only made the moment worse. “Goodbye,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I love you, Soot.”

“I love you, too, girl,” the smith said. The sight of tears running down his face broke Eva’s heart even more.

Eva turned away and forced herself not to look back again as each step widened the gap between her and the only family she’d ever known. Andor held up a hand when she was about a half-dozen paces from his gryphon. To their left, Sigrid and the Windsworn who’d come for Ivan mounted and rose into the air. Eva ducked her head as dust scattered from the beating wings of the gryphons until they were gone.

“This is Stormwind,” Andor said, gesturing to his gryphon. The creature looked at Eva and cocked its great gray eagle’s head to the side, clacking its beak. “Go on, say hello.”

Eva swallowed and took a cautious step toward Stormwind and then another. As she neared, she couldn’t help but notice the way the sunlight gleamed on the gryphon’s vicious beak and curved talons. An arm’s length away, their eyes met, and Eva froze.

“It’s okay,” Andor said behind her. “Go on, say hello. Hold out your hand.”

Growing up in a forge with a one-handed smith had taught Eva to be careful where she stuck her appendages but she raised a shaking hand anyway and tried not to shy away as Stormwind nudged her open palm.

“Good, Eva,” Andor said. “You can pet him now, if you want.”

Stepping closer to pet the gryphon was about the last thing Eva wanted, but on the other hand, disobeying the lord commander first thing didn’t seem like a good idea either. Stormwind nudged her hand again, and Eva relented, running her hand down the feathers of his powerful neck. Up close, the gryphon seemed even bigger — Stormwind’s back stood as tall as Eva’s shoulder, but his muscular frame and wings made the creature seem twice as big as a horse.

Andor’s hand fell on her shoulder and guided Eva around to Stormwind’s backside as the gryphon spread his wings for them to mount. Once he’d taken his seat in the saddle, the lord commander jerked his head for Eva to join him. Heart pounding, Eva could hardly think straight as Andor pulled her up behind him.

“I, uh…” Was it too late to tell Andor that heights scared her? Would that disqualify Eva from being Windsworn and put an end to the madness? She glanced at Soot and Seppo, watching from the awning of the forge and wanted to yell at them to save her.

“What’s that?” Andor said over his shoulder.

“Never mind,” Eva muttered, hoping she could shut her eyes and the lord commander wouldn’t notice.

“All right then, hold on!”

Chapter Seven

Andor whistled, and Eva’s insides froze as Stormwind gathered his powerful lion’s legs beneath them. In the next instant, the gryphon sprang forward, and Eva bit back a scream as the creature’s body jerked and lurched beneath her. Concerned more with self-preservation than impressions, Eva clutched Andor so tight she felt his chain mail pressing into her bare arms

Stormwind’s beating wings blasted cool morning air into Eva’s face, and she felt nothing but emptiness behind her. After a few excruciating minutes when Eva thought she was going to die for sure, they finally leveled off in the air. The gryphon’s wing strokes slowed to a steady tempo, and instead of jolting, Eva felt a smooth rocking motion beneath her.

“Doing all right?” Andor yelled over Stormwind’s whooshing wings.

“I — I think so!” Eva replied, hoping her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

“Good,” the lord commander said. “Would you mind letting go a bit, then? I promise we won’t drop you.”

Eva wanted more than anything to tell him no, but instead she forced her arms to unclench a few inches. After a few more moments, she cracked open her eyes and found an expanse of blue all around them.

“Quite the view, isn’t it?”

A quick glance over Stormwind’s side at the miniature buildings, towers, and streets below sent Eva’s head spinning. After a few moments and a couple of deep breaths, however, she ventured another look.

Gryfonesse sprawled out below them, its white marble shining like a gem in the midday sun. At their height, the crowded street traffic appeared to be a solid mass rather than individual citizens, wagons, and carts bustling up and down the avenues. Above the people, the king’s banners rustled from turrets and walls, and even the palace’s majesty seemed shrunken.

Andor whistled again, and Stormwind spread his wings, banking to the north. Below them, acres of fresh-plowed fields, pasture land, and orchards surrounded the city like a giant patchwork quilt. Eva looked to the east and saw nothing but rolling hills and woodlands stretching for miles and miles until they met the periwinkle horizon. In the face of such beauty and wonder, her fear gave way to awe.

Catching a thermal, Stormwind rose even higher, gliding like they were on a frozen pond. A silver glint showed the river twisting through the trees on the edge of the farmland. And then Stormwind turned again, and Eva saw the Gyr.

The home of the Windsworn loomed over Gryfonesse like a stern old man watching his grandchildren scurry about at his feet. A spear of raw, pale rock, the Gyr looked like it had been thrust from the earth to cut through the heavens. The snow in the valley had melted weeks ago, but Eva could see a hood of white across the Gyr’s broken peak and other stubborn drifts tucked down into the mountain’s craggy folds.

A few lonesome, bedraggled pine trees dotted the slopes, jutting out at odd angles from whatever patch of rock their roots could cling to. The first gryphons they saw circling and spiraling around the mountain looked like birds until they drew close enough to see the sunlight glinting on the multiple hues of their fur and feathers. Stormwind screamed, and Eva gritted her teeth against the sudden sound. Moments later, a series of faint cries carried back to them in greeting.

“Welcome to the Gyr,” Andor said. “The most impregnable fortress in all of Altaris. Legend has it when the first Windsworn settled its peaks, they found a staircase carved into the side of the mountain leading all the way to the halls. The first thing they did was destroy the stair — the only way in or out is through the sky.”

Eva’s stomach clenched, realizing she’d only be able to leave the mountain through the same terrifying, heart-stopping transportation. The thought made her head spin, and all the fear rushed back at once. Eva clutched Andor in a death grip once more, heart hammering in her chest like Seppo working the forge. She squeezed her eyes shut again, only half hearing whatever Andor was saying.

“We’ll show you how to care for your gryphon and get you settled in today,” the lord commander said, either ignoring or oblivious of Eva’s mounting terror. “Tomorrow morning you’ll come before the Council.”

Eva nodded in a daze, not even realizing Andor couldn’t see her. The joy of the flight vanished, and she yearned to have her feet on solid ground — even if that meant the Gyr. Stormwind’s smooth wing beats felt like a ship rocking on the sea, one pitch away from capsizing.

As if sensing her unease, Andor twisted in his seat. “All right back there?”

Eva shuddered, chilled to the bone despite her cloak. The brilliant blue sky and summer sun suddenly felt pale and cold. She pressed her eyes closed again and mumbled something in response.

“We’re coming in to land,” Andor said. “Hold tight!”

Stormwind dipped forward, and Eva’s insides lurched. Torn between remaining oblivious to the empty expanse below her and wanting to see how much more she had to endure, Eva peeked out of one eye and saw the side of the Gyr rushing toward them. For a split second, she thought they were going to crash into the mountainside. At the last moment, however, a large shelf materialized, and Stormwind spread his wings to slow their descent.

As soon as the gryphon’s talons touched down, Eva blew out the breath she’d been holding. Although she’d done nothing more than sit on the gryphon’s back, she felt light-headed and breathless like she’d been running or working in the forge on a sweltering summer day. Her golden hair clung her face, damp with perspiration.

Andor slid from the saddle and held a hand to help her down. Eva took a cautious step, still swaying. “Are you okay?” the lord commander asked.

Eva felt the blood rush to her clammy face. “Y-yes.” She took a deep breath and managed a weak smile.

“Everyone’s first flight is a bit…unsettling,” Andor said. “You did well.”

The lord commander didn’t seem like the kind of person who said something just to make a person feel better. Even so, unless not falling off was the only bar of achievement for a person’s first gryphon flight, Eva felt she’d already failed her first test.

Eva followed Andor across the shelf toward a tall cavernous opening in the side of the rock. At the mouth of the opening a young girl waited at attention. She looked to be around Ivan’s age but with her royal-blue uniform and the no-nonsense expression on her face, she seemed much older.

“Recruit Wynn,” Andor said in a much louder and steelier voice than Eva had heard before.

The young girl thumped her fist across her chest. “Yes, Lord Commander!”

Eva swore she saw the hint of a smile behind Andor’s beard. “This is Evelyn, our newest recruit. You will take her to the kitchens and then give her a tour of the Gyr. You’ll find Sigrid has placed your chick in the Roost — Wynn will show you. Afterward, Recruit Wynn, please see to it that Eva is settled into her quarters within the garrison.”

The girl gave a curt nod. “Yes, Lord Commander.”

“I will send for you in the morning,” Andor said to Eva. “We will talk before you meet the Council. Until then, try to make yourself at home. Your training begins tomorrow afternoon.”

Eva nodded, but Andor continued to look at her. “Uh, yes, Lord Commander,” she said, realizing what he was waiting for after a long pause.

Andor nodded. “Very good; until tomorrow then.” With that, the lord commander left, swinging into Stormwind’s saddle with an ease Eva doubted she’d ever accomplish. The gryphon reared and leaped back into the sky, leaving Eva alone with the Windsworn recruit.

“It’s good to meet you,” the girl said, offering a hand.

“Good to meet you. I’m Eva.”

The young girl rolled her eyes and blew a strand of light brown hair out of her face with an exasperated sigh. “I know that, the lord commander just said so!”

Eva stared, taken back by the girl’s abrupt change in behavior. But Wynn smiled and grabbed Eva by the hand, leading her into the cavern’s depth.

“Come on, let me show you around!”

Chapter Eight

Wynn set off at a brisk pace, pulling Eva along after her. The tunnel sloped downward but was well lighted by a series of crystal lanterns along the walls. They gave off a warm, yellow glow that grew brighter the farther they traveled from the outside. After a few minutes walking, Eva looked back and found the sunlight had disappeared behind a bend.

“How do those work?” Eva asked, pointing to one of the lanterns.

“Magic, of course,” the girl said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The Gyr used to be a fort of the Ancients — I thought everyone knew that. Some of the things they left behind still work, but don’t ask me how. Most of it’s useful, but you’ve got to be careful — there’s tricks and traps hidden, too.”

“Are they…dangerous?” By now, they were starting to pass people. When they saw Eva, many of them offered a kind hello, then stared until Wynn led her out of sight.

“Not really,” the girl said, oblivious to the people’s attention. She hadn’t stopped talking since they’d entered the mountain. “Mostly, they’ll just get you turned around, or stuck until someone else comes by to release the trap. You’ll figure out where they are pretty quick, though.”

Wynn took a turn to the right and continued deeper into the mountain. The tunnel widened enough that two horses and their riders could have ridden side by side without fear of hitting their heads on the smooth, straight ceiling above. Every so often, this main tunnel split off into a side passage or a door. Strange runes, similar to the ones tattooed on Ivan’s body, were carved into the walls. Most could only be seen from the reflection of the lamps, but every so often Eva spied one flickering. What gave off the light, she had no idea.

The dull murmur of dozens of voices rose ahead of them, but Wynn steered Eva down a smaller side tunnel instead. “That’s the Main Hall,” the girl said, pointing in the direction they’d turned from. “It’s where you’d normally eat, but I got told not to take you there. We aren’t supposed to make a show. We’ll go around back to the kitchens.”

By the tone of her voice, Wynn almost sounded disappointed. Eva’s stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten all day. There hadn’t been a chance to grab anything before leaving Soot’s forge, and Eva felt pretty sure she wouldn’t have been able to keep it down anyway. Now, the aromas wafting down the small passage made Eva’s mouth water.

“Not bad, eh?”

Eva could only nod, sleepy and just a little bit sick after their meal. Delighted to meet the newest Windsworn recruit and the future rider of the red gryphon, the cooks heaped their plates with everything from thick dark bread and early season fruit out of the north to chilled ciders and grilled meat right off the skewer.

They continued alongside passages to avoid the majority of lunch traffic. After so many dips, rises, twists, and turns, Eva doubted she could even find her way back to the kitchens, let alone the shelf they’d landed on. Soon a new series of sounds filled the air: the dull thwack of wood on wood mingled with shouts and grunts. Without warning, the passage ahead opened up into a balcony overlooking an expansive area below.

Eva tried to hide her surprise. So far, everything she’d seen on Wynn’s tour made her think the inside of the mountain was all a series of tunnels and caves. But the training ground — Eva guessed that’s what is was by the equipment and people drilling — opened up into an enormous cavern that could have fit Soot’s cottage, forge, and yard in it with room to spare. Below, dozens of recruits sparred with one another, practiced their sword and axe strokes against straw dummies, wrestled, shot bows at padded targets against the wall, and much more.

“This is the Pit,” Wynn said. “It’s where we all train, no matter how long you’ve been here or what types of weapon you’re assigned. You’ll report here with me and the other fresh recruits tomorrow afternoon.”

Wynn kept talking while Eva looked wide eyed over the grounds. In one corner, two boys hammered away at each other with wooden short swords in both hands. One lunged and missed, leaving the other an opening. The second boy cracked his opponent on the side of his head and jabbed him in the ribs before the instructor called a halt. Nobody seemed concerned as the boy fell to the ground in a ball, clutching the side of his head. Eva swallowed hard, stomach dropping.

A series of shouts below drew Eva’s attention away from the injured boy to a large crowd forming on the far side of the Pit from them. The Windsworn recruits surrounded what looked to be a matchup of one against three. Before Eva could ask Wynn about the fairness of such a fight, a sharp whistle blew. The single fighter, wearing only leathers and a light cap, threw themselves at the other three. Although she couldn’t tell at their distance, Eva didn’t think any of the three landed a blow as the solo fighter picked them apart. In short order, each fell to the ground and, after one or two halfhearted attempts, stayed there. The crowd shouted, and the lone fighter raised their weapons in triumph.

“By thunder,” Wynn said in a hushed voice. “I heard stories about her, but I didn’t believe them until now.”

“Her?” Eva asked in surprise. They’d seen plenty of women and girls in Windsworn attire throughout the day, but she found it hard to believe one had beaten three men with such ease.

“Yeah,” Wynn continued. “I think her name’s Sigrid. One of the lord commander’s personal aides, a real hard ass.”

Eva thought back to Sigrid’s scowls and coldness and wondered what she could’ve done to cross the dark-haired rider. She made a mental note to stay away from Sigrid, especially in the Pit. The thought of standing across from her in the ring made Eva sick.

“Come on, no time to stop now.”

Next, Wynn led her through the Great Archive, whose towering shelves held untold numbers of scrolls and books, the girl said, on anything and everything you could ever want to know about.

“They say it’s the second-biggest library in all of Altaris — besides the Scriven, anyway.”

Eva tried to linger, running her hands over the spines of several large tomes, but Wynn dragged her along, down more twisting and turning passages and caverns. She tried to keep track of them all: the armory, filled with weapons of every kind, shape, and size; the storerooms heaped with enough supplies, the quartermaster said, to feed the Gyr for a year; classrooms of recruits being lectured on history, battle strategy; and Eva’s favorite, the baths — caverns dotted with natural pools of shallow water somehow heated by the mountain itself.

Zigzagging up a wide staircase cut into the stone, they climbed until Eva’s legs burned with every step. At last, after what seemed like a thousand stairs, the path leveled into a tunnel that grew larger the farther they walked down it. Eventually, it opened up into a massive chamber even bigger than the Pit. Wynn called it the Roost, one of the highest points in the Gyr — where the gryphons ate and nested when not with their riders.

“I’ll catch back up with you in a bit,” Wynn said, already running off. “I’ve got to go see my chick in the nursery!”

Eva shouted after Wynn, but the recruit ignored her and she found herself alone. Unlike the rest of the mountain, the air here had a brisk chill. Across from her, the Roost ended in a gigantic shelf into open sky. Beyond that, Eva saw nothing but blue and a few sparse clouds in the distance.

The gryphons themselves rested on hundreds of natural pockets and ledges inside the cavern. These roosts and nests lined the walls all around them, continuing higher and higher until Eva stared straight up the hollow peak of the mountain. She saw gryphons of all sizes and shades of colors: gray, black, brown, white, tan, and every hue in between. Some slept, while others gnawed on quartered carcasses. The air buzzed with the sound of their calls and the rush of wings as the gryphons came and went without pause.

“Looking for a red one?”

Eva turned to find a woman with thick gray hair and a lined face walking toward her. She crossed into the open from a small side door built into the wall, holding Eva’s chick in her arms. With trepidation, Eva reached out to take him and found the hatchling fast asleep, much to her relief.

“So, you’re the one we’ve heard so much about,” the older woman said with a slight bow. “I am Cassandra, the Gyr’s roost master.”

Eva took a liking to the woman at once as Cassandra walked her down the length of the Roost and explained her role. As she listened, Eva got the feeling the roost master’s speech was well rehearsed, but Cassandra spoke in a way that suggested she’d never tire of it, or her position.

“We have over three hundred gryphons roosting at the Gyr at any given time,” she said. “There are other Windsworn holdings across Rhylance, of course, but this mountain is the main headquarters and the largest. It is also the only breeding ground and hatchery in all of Altaris.”

They passed dozens of younger Windsworn going about various chores such as pitching out piles and sticks and straw for the gryphons’ nests, quartering fresh-killed animals for meals, or treating a variety of injuries from chipped talons to pulled muscles and broken feathers. When they returned to their starting position, Cassandra led Eva through side door she’d emerged from when they’d arrived. Inside, they found rows and rows of eggs in as many colors and patterns as there were gryphons outside. Farther back, a series of familiar, ear-splitting shrieks echoed from deeper within.

“Why don’t you leave the eggs with their mothers?” Eva asked. It seemed cruel to separate the mothers from their brood.

“The eggs stay with the mothers until they are almost ready to hatch,” Cassandra explained. “By that point, the chicks no longer require constant heat as they’re fully grown inside the egg. The chicks develop a stronger bond with the rider if they are present during the hatching. Not every chick bonds with a rider right out of the egg, however.”

Eva looked down at the bundle of dark red fuzz and fur still asleep in her tired arms and almost asked if sometimes the chicks made a mistake. But after seeing Cassandra’s liking for the red gryphon and her passion in general, she thought better of it.

“Hey!” Wynn said, running up to join them from the tunnel leading to what Eva guessed was the nursery. She clutched a tiny gryphon with tawny feathers and brindled fur in her arms.

“Careful, Wynn,” Cassandra said. “If you trip, you could hurt your hatchling.”

Although she was only a few paces away, Wynn slowed to a walk. “Sorry, Roost Master.” When she stopped, her gryphon chick climbed to perch on her shoulder, peeping and nipping at Wynn’s hair. Eva felt a stab of jealousy as her own chick stirred. He probably would’ve bitten her ear off if she’d tried something like that.

The red gryphon woke growling, and Wynn led them to a bin full of chopped up pieces of meat. Eva fed the chick under the roost master’s watchful eyes, careful of her fingers as he tore at each morsel she offered.

“You’ve got a lively one there,” Cassandra said, chuckling. “He’ll take a firm hand to raise, but being here in the Gyr now will make it easier.”

“Maybe he’ll learn some manners staying here,” Eva said, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. Apparently full, the chick started nipping at her locks. When Eva’s hair was out of reach, he pecked at her shirt and hissed.

“Oh, he won’t stay here,” Cassandra said. “Chicks stay with their riders in the barracks until they reach adolescence. Then he’ll come to the Roost with the adult gryphons. It helps to build a stronger bond between gryphon and rider.”

“Oh.” Eva did her best to hide both the disappointment and apprehension she felt inside. That much bonding time sounded like a good way to lose half her fingers and toes.

“I’m here for whatever you need,” Cassandra said in a way that sounded like the roost master was trying to reassure herself as much as Eva. “I’m sure it will take some getting used to for both of you — gryphons aren’t simple beasts after all — they’re as smart as humans, smarter in some ways. And that gryphon you have is one of a kind.”

As Eva struggled to hold the squirming, pecking chick in her hands, Cassandra led them back out into the gigantic main cavern. “Take a look,” the roost master said, gesturing at the scores of gryphons perched on the ledges. “You’ll see whites, grays, blacks, browns, golds — even a few blue roans — but you won’t find another red gryphon anywhere in Altaris. The birth of a red gryphon has always marked times of great change for our people. As his rider, you are tied to that same destiny.”

When she finished, Cassandra stared at Eva like she was expecting some kind of grand, heroic speech. Eva coughed and looked at the ground. “I — I’ll do my best.”

Almost as if he sensed the uncomfortable moment, the red chick sank his beak into her arm. Eva yelled and dropped the baby gryphon, who scurried under a nearby straw wagon and stared out at them through angry yellow eyes.

“Sorry,” Eva mumbled as she reached in to fish the chick out, jerking her hand back each time his tiny beak snapped at her. After several moments, she managed to distract him with one hand and scoop him up with the other. When she turned around, her face felt like she’d been stoking Soot’s smelter all morning.

Cassandra looked anything but encouraged. “You…ah… seem to be off to a rough start,” she said. Behind her, Eva heard Wynn snicker.

“He’s… growing on me,” Eva replied, wishing she could crawl under the straw wagon and hide herself. Several other riders were watching them from a distance, talking and pointing.

“Growing on you like a pox,” Wynn muttered. Eva shot her a dirty look.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Cassandra said. She patted Eva on the shoulder and then reached down to tickle the gryphon chick under his chin. Much to Eva’s annoyance, the hatchling stretched out his neck and purred at the roost master’s touch. “You’re only one day in. It will come.”

Somehow, Eva didn’t think things would be that easy.

Wynn led Eva down a couple of levels and the tunnel widened into a cavern about half the size of the Roost with terraces carved into the rock on either side. Male and female riders of various ages congregated in a courtyard-like area below laughing and relaxing. On both sides, the balconies rose three stories high and lined the wall as far as Eva could see. When they came into sight, several new recruits around Wynn’s age shouted and waved. Noticing Eva, the entire commons area began to talk in low voices, glancing at Eva until she focused on her feet. Excited by the noise, the gryphon chick struggled to free himself, but Eva held him tight. The last thing she needed was to embarrass herself in front of the entire Windsworn barracks on her first evening.

“Come on,” Wynn said, tugging on her sleeve. “I’ll show you the quarters the lord commander requested for you.”

They went up a staircase to the left of the entrance and continued up to the top terrace. From up here, the hall looked much longer than Eva would have guessed. Doors lined the halls as they passed, some made of wood, while others looked to be carved from the stone itself. They continued away from the courtyard, their path lit by the same flickering crystal lamps, until Eva caught sight of sunlight in the bend ahead. Rounding a corner, she saw the source of the outside light: a wide, curved window carved out of the rock.

Eva shifted the hatchling in her arms and dared a glance outside. They were on the eastern-facing side of the Gyr now, and the pale, fading light illuminated the faint purple of the Windridge Mountains and surrounding wilderness a few miles away.

“You’re lucky,” Wynn said, jealousy plain in her voice. “All the new recruits get inside quarters throughout their first year.”

Eva didn’t know what to say, so she continued to stare out the window. None of the trees had sprouted leaves yet, leaving the mountain range dotted with dark spots of pines and pale gray bunches of barren aspens. In spite of everything that had happened over the past couple of days, she couldn’t help but be taken with the view.

“Come on,” Wynn said, tugging at her sleeve again. “I’d like to get back for the evening meal, you know!”

The young recruit led her down the hall past a couple more windows until they stopped in front of a thick wooden door. Wynn knocked and then swung it open, gesturing for Eva to go ahead of her.

Eva stepped in the room looking forward to meeting her new bunkmate… and stopped in her tracks, nearly dropping the chick in surprise. Propped against the wall on a cot in the far corner of the room, Sigrid looked up, brow furrowed in a deep frown. Her lips pulled back into a grimace, and her hawkish nose wrinkled like Eva smelled of something dead and rotten.

“Well, well, look what the gryphon dragged in.”

Chapter Nine

“Can’t you keep that thing quiet?” Sigrid hissed for the dozenth time.

By now, it was early morning and gray light seeped through the small window between their bunks. Eva sat up in her bed, flustered and exhausted. Throughout the night, the chick had woken up almost every two hours, raising enough racket to wake the entire garrison. Eva had tried feeding him, but that only worked the first time. Afterward, nothing helped, and the chick screeched until he wore himself out and slept for a short while.

“I’m trying,” Eva said. She stretched out a hand to stroke the hatchling’s soft down. The baby gryphon snapped and her and let lose another wail.

“I don’t care if it’s the first storming gryphon born again,” Sigrid seethed. “If you don’t get him to shut up, I’ll throw him out the window!”

Eva should’ve probably been offended or at least a little concerned by her roommate’s threat, but she half entertained the idea herself as the chick darted under her bed. Fully dressed, Sigrid shot her a glare sharper than the two daggers at her hips and strode from the room, slamming the door behind her. Exasperated, Eva clenched her hands into fists and fought the urge to scream. She tried not to think that, in just a few short hours, she’d be appearing before the Windsworn Council, a prospect that would’ve been daunting enough even with a full night’s rest.

Fortunately, the chick fell asleep again a few minutes later. Eva had just finished a hurried braid to hold back her long hair when someone knocked on her door. Opening it revealed Wynn holding a stack of blue tunics and pants in her arms. Her tawny gryphon bumbled around a pair of tall brown boots beside her feet.

“I’m supposed to escort you to the lord commander as soon as you’re properly dressed,” Wynn said, holding out the clothes. “Here; you’ll need to be in uniform. I think these should fit.”

Thanking Wynn, Eva closed the door and slipped into the uniform. The clothes fit well, a small mercy she was grateful for — the last thing she wanted to do was appear before the lord commander and Windsworn Council in too-short leggings or an extra large tunic. She already felt ridiculous enough.

All dressed, Eva slipped on the boots and opened the door. Wynn stood waiting, shifting from one foot to the other. “You ready yet?” the younger girl asked. “The lord commander doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Eva nodded and stepped out of her quarters. She had the door half-closed behind her when Wynn put a hand on the door to stop here. “Where’s your gryphon? You can’t leave him there alone!”

Berating herself, Eva went back in the room with some reluctance. After his all-night antics, the gryphon chick lay curled up at the foot of her bed, fast asleep. Using extreme care, Eva picked him up and cradled the gryphon in her arms without waking him. She tried not to imagine the ruckus the hatchling would cause when he came to and found himself in a strange place.

Eva followed Wynn down a new series of twisting, winding tunnels and staircases. There seemed no rhyme or reason to the Gyr’s interior although every passage and staircase was shaped with perfect symmetry. In some spots, a staircase hewn in the rock melted away to a gentle slope. Tunnels ended in random chambers with no explanation or gradually shrank until only two or three people could pass through them side by side.

Riders of all ages stared in surprise as they passed, pointing to the still-sleeping red gryphon chick in Eva’s arms. A few nodded or said hello but most looked at Eva like she’d grown a second head overnight. Wynn seemed to love the attention, smiling and waving to everyone. She’d say things like “Yeah, that’s her!” or, to Eva’s horror, “Make way for the red gryphon!” While the young girl blazed ahead, heralding their passage, Eva walked with her head down, hoping their destination wasn’t much farther.

Without warning, they appeared at the edge of the Main Hall. It looked like most of the riders were done with their morning meal, but a few remained in small groups at several of the long tables, chatting among themselves. At the top of the hall, Eva noticed a balcony overlooking the tables below that she’d missed the night before.

“We’re normally not allowed up here,” Wynn said before they started up the stairs. “All of the officers’ quarters are located back this way, plus the Council chamber.”

When they reached the top of the stairs, Eva felt the eyes of everyone in the Main Hall on her back. She felt a wave of relief as they disappeared from the dais down a long passage lined with pillars. In between each column, Eva noticed tapestries interspersed between the columns and doors. The murals depicted a variety of Windsworn and their gryphons with plaques beneath each to identify them. Every now and then, Eva spotted a red gryphon and couldn’t help but notice how brave and heroic their riders looked. Each one they passed made her stomach sink a little more.

They traveled about halfway down the hall without seeing anyone until Wynn came to a stop in front of a door inlaid with a pair of silver wings. Lifting the large knocker carved in the shape of a gryphon’s head, she struck the door twice. Andor appeared a few moments later, and Wynn snapped to attention. Eva did her best to imitate the younger girl, but the result seemed awkward and ridiculous.

“Recruit Winifred, thank you for your assistance,” Andor said. Eva looked sideways at Wynn, who grimaced, apparently not fond of what must’ve been her full name. “You are dismissed.”

Wynn saluted, thumping her fist to her chest. “Good luck,” she muttered under her breath as she passed Eva.

“Come in,” Andor said.

He led Eva up a short spiral staircase into a spacious room with a large window across from the entrance. Charts and maps of all kinds covered the walls inside the lord commander’s chambers. Eva recognized one depicting Rhylance, but most were of places she’d only heard in name or not at all. A stone table, seemingly carved out of the mountain itself, stood in the middle of the room and was stacked with books, scrolls, and more maps. Andor motioned for her to take a seat.

“Did Wynn show you around?”

Eva nodded. “Yes, she’s been good company.”

“Good,” Andor said. “She looks up to you, you know.”

At a loss for words, Eva nodded again, focusing on containing the struggling chick in her arms.

“You can set him down,” Andor said. “There’s nothing on the floor he’ll hurt.”

Relieved, Eva let the baby gryphon spring from her arms. He landed like a lopsided ball made of wool and scurried under the table at once.

“I trust that everything else is going well?” Andor asked.

For a moment, Eva considered saying something about being placed in the same quarters as Sigrid, but then she realized the lord commander likely had something to do with the arrangement in the first place. It didn’t seem like a very good idea to start complaining on her first full day in the Gyr.

“Yes,” she said, trying not to sound as lost as she felt. “It’s just a bit…overwhelming.”

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Andor assured her. “I know Soot, and if you lasted all those years with him, you’ll do just fine here. But I want to stress that you’ll receive no special treatment because of your circumstances. You’ve got almost five years of catching up to do.”

“I understand,” Eva said. When the lord commander put it that way, she didn’t feel like she had a chance.

“My lord,” Andor said. Eva looked at him, confused. “Our interactions until now have been somewhat…out of the ordinary, but now that you are a recruit, you will refer to me as either lord commander or my lord. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my lord,” Eva said, unsettled by the sudden change in Andor’s demeanor. His formality made her feel even more anxious.

“Very good,” the lord commander said, offering her what Eva guessed was supposed to be an encouraging smile. It didn’t help. “Let’s not keep the Council waiting.”

The hall ended in a pair of stone doors almost twice Eva’s height. Two guards stood outside, each wearing gold-chased armor and sky-blue capes, a spear in one hand, ruby-hilted swords at their belts. When the lord commander approached, they both snapped to attention.

Fighting a growing panic, Eva followed Andor, doing her best to keep the hatchling from raising a racket in front of the Windsworn leadership. Late morning sunlight flooded through the windows, highlighting several men and women seated along the rounded outside wall of the chamber. As the lord commander took his seat in a chair carved with outstretched wings, the Windsworn Council studied Eva with a mixture of expressions.

The two seated on either side of Andor seemed especially intent. To the lord commander’s left, a woman with sun-darkened skin and midnight hair looked at Eva, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. She sat easy in her chair, like a lioness sunning herself on a rock.

The man on Andor’s right, however, seemed to be carved out of the mountain itself, down to his slate-gray hair, eyes, and well-groomed beard. A scar ran from the corner of his eye and nose across his cheek to the outside of his jawline. Eva glanced away, unnerved, and focused her attention on the lord commander.

“Welcome, Evelyn,” he said. “Although we did not know who, the coming of the red gryphon and his rider have been long awaited.”

“Let’s not be hasty.” It was the gray-haired man on Andor’s let who spoke. His stern gaze cut into Eva like a knife. “The road to becoming full-fledged Windsworn is long. Many leave the mountain, never to return.”

“I…” Eva swallowed hard and felt a sudden longing for the comforting light of her mother’s Wonder stone. “I will do my best, I promise you.” She realized how many people she’d already made that promise to over the past few days and hoped she wouldn’t break it.

“Be careful what you promise, girl,” the woman on Andor’s right said. “We will hold you to it.”

“My strong left and right wings,” Andor said, nodding to the man and the woman. “Commanders Uthred and Celina.”

The gryphon chick chose that moment to latch his front talons into Eva’s arm. “W-well met,” Eva said, trying to hide the pain. She shifted her arms and held back a gasp as the needle-sharp claws pulled free.

“You are afraid,” Uthred said. “To become one with your gryphon, to become Windsworn, you must be fearless.”

Although Eva didn’t say anything, she felt certain if any of the riders in the room knew of her terror of heights, she’d be dismissed immediately. Had Andor noticed the day before? She didn’t see how he couldn’t have.

“No one is fearless, Uthred, not even you,” Commander Celina said, never taking her eyes off Eva. As she spoke, she toyed with a forearm brace that looked more like stone than any metal Eva knew of. Celina’s fingertips traced the runes carved into the brace’s surface, considering her next words. “It’s how we face those fears. Can you be brave, girl?”

“I —”

“She is too old,” Uthred interrupted. “And built like a willow twig. You should have left her where you found her and brought the red gryphon to another rider, my lord.”

Eva felt a spark of anger rise in her, but one look at Uthred’s pale gaze quenched it like a hot blade in oil. She looked down at the gryphon chick, shifting him in her arms so his talons were pinned against her and her bare skin was out of reach of his beak.

“Eva has grown up working with one of the toughest men in Rhylance,” Andor said in a loud voice, silencing several murmurs. “I don’t think I need to remind anyone here of Wayland’s deeds or character. She will learn to hold her own.”

At the mention of Soot’s real name, Eva’s fears momentarily faded. She would’ve given anything to ask Andor about her foster father’s secretive past but knew now wasn’t the time.

“Nevertheless,” Uthred said, unmoved by Andor’s argument. “We hold Council for a reason. I propose we vote to see if the girl stays.”

Eva’s stomach twisted, and her mouth went dry. Vote? Was Uthred trying to kick her out? Would the Council see Eva for the charlatan she was and send her home? Embarrassment, anger, and a small bit of hope swirled inside her as the Council fell into unrest.

“The girl has been chosen!”

“Uthred is right; she is too old to learn our ways. She will never be Windsworn!”

“Just look at her!”

“This is ridiculous! The gryphon has already bonded!”

The discontent grew into shouts, with Eva trapped in the middle of it all. The gryphon chick shrieked and flailed in Eva’s grasp, upset at the noise. Tears welled in her eyes, and Eva wished she could melt into the floor.

“Silence!”

Andor rose from his chair, deep blue eyes daring someone to speak. “We will have order. A council this may be, but I am still Lord Commander of the Windsworn. Before anything is put to a vote, Eva would you like to say something?”

It was the last thing Eva expected or wanted. She swallowed, tongue feeling ten times too big in her bone-dry mouth. On one hand, this was her chance. With a few words, she could walk away from the Gyr, from Uthred, Sigrid, and the angry gryphon chick who’d overturned her world. A quiet life with Soot and Seppo waited, beckoning her back home.

Eva opened her mouth to tell them Uthred was right — there’d been some kind of terrible mistake. But as she did Eva felt something stir deep inside, like a tiny, flickering ember buried in ash. A feeling of defiance she’d never felt before. Damn them all, it whispered. Prove them wrong. She didn’t know what hidden corner of her heart it came from, but she knew it wouldn’t let her leave.

“Eva?” Andor asked again, raising his eyebrows. The gryphon chick chirped, breaking the silence.

Eva opened her mouth again and couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. Words came out of her mouth, but she couldn’t even tell what they were.

“Speak up, dear,” Celina said. She looked amused, like she knew something the rest didn’t and wasn’t going to share. It seemed like the commander was making fun of her, but rather than upsetting Eva further, it fanned the tiny ember inside her until it glowed even brighter.

“I don’t know why I was chosen,” Eva said, raising her voice. “And no, I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t swing a sword, and I don’t know how to fly a gryphon. But I can work hard.”

Andor nodded, and the room fell silent, leaving Eva no indication of how her words went over. “Let us consult with Captain Windholt,” the lord commander said. “What is your decision?”

Eva turned to a gruff old man with hair shaved to a stubble. He wore a patch over one eye and gnawed on the tip of his drooping mustache.

“Why not,” he growled at last. “Let’s see what the girl’s made of. Give her a chance, I say.”

Andor nodded. “Captain Velinda?”

The seat to the old man’s right held a middle-aged woman with a lean face and short hair so fair it almost looked white. She regarded Eva, fingertips pressed together beneath her chin, then looked down at the gryphon chick in her arms.

“Hmmm…no,” the captain said in a slow, drawling voice. “I’m sorry, young lady, but I think not.”

Equal parts inside Eva celebrated and were crushed at the same time. They continued to the next four, which tied the vote as it came to Uthred. Sensing her discomfort, the chick hissed, and Eva did her best to hold him away without looking too obvious.

“No,” the gray-haired commander said at once. “This is no place for milk maidens — even if they can swing a hammer.”

Andor frowned at Uthred. “I vote yes.”

Eva glanced at Celina, hating the fact her fate was as the woman’s mercy. The commander looked Eva up and down, for several gut-wrenching moments. “Come back to me,” she said at last. “I have not yet decided.”

Eva didn’t think that would work out in her favor, but she tried to put on a brave face as the votes passed to the remaining six Windsworn. Two more women, faces marked with war paint, voted no but a dark-skinned man, and, somewhat to Eva’s surprise, Cassandra, both voted yes. A man with long red hair bound in dozens of braids voted no, leaving only a woman with a shaved head and Celina.

“I hope you’ve made your mind up, Celina,” the woman with the shaved head said. “Because I vote yes, which means we have a tie.”

Eva’s palms grew cold and trickles of sweat ran down her back and forehead, but she couldn’t wipe it without setting down the red gryphon. By now, the chick had had more than enough of Eva holding him and fought with all his might until Eva relented and placed him on the floor to peck at her boots.

All eyes fell on Celina. Despite the added attention, she remained draped across her chair as if they were discussing the details of a summer picnic, not Eva’s future with the Windsworn. To Eva, her beating heart sounded like a drum filling the entire chamber.

“Oh all right,” Celina said at last, sitting up and waving a hand as if they’d all been asking her to play some sort of trivial game. “I vote yes.”

Quiet mutters broke out across the Council. Uthred looked like he’d been forced to swallow a dagger, while Andor stared at Eva with the same concerned look he’d worn during the voting.

“It is decided, then,” he said. “Eva will remain at the Gyr and undergo training to become full-fledged Windsworn. Eva, you are dismissed.”

In a daze, Eva gathered up the gryphon chick and turned for the stone doors. As the other Council members began to talk among themselves, Celina’s voice rose over the hubbub.

“Don’t make me regret my decision, girl!”

Chapter Ten

Wynn was waiting on the balcony at the end of the Officers’ Hall. “How did it go?” she asked.

Although she would have rather talked about anything else, Eva told the girl about the Council and their vote.

“You’re staying!” Wynn said at the end. Her enthusiasm made Eva feel a little better after the harrowing events. “And don’t worry about Uthred — from what I hear he’s a salty old bugger with everyone. Come on, we’re going to be late for class!”

Eva followed Wynn across the Main Hall into a passage at the bottom of a narrow street. It rose several stories above them, orange-yellow lanterns illuminating so many windows that the whole chasm looked bright as daylight. Wynn went up a staircase to one side of the street and continued until she came to a large wooden door. She opened it and gestured Eva inside, following close behind.

Inside, Eva saw long rows of tables filled with recruits around Wynn’s age, their attention focused on a large bald man with square spectacles perched on the end of a rather bulbous nose. When the door opened, the teacher looked up from whatever he’d been reading, followed by the rest of the class. Seeing Eva, they stared until the teacher gave an impatient cough.

“Ah yes,” he said. “Glad you could make it. Eva, isn’t it?”

Eva nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Portridge,” the man said. “You may call me Instructor Portridge. Have a seat.”

Feeling somewhat lost and naked in front of all the adolescents staring at her, Eva chose an open seat in the back corner and sat the gryphon chick down in front of her. He proceeded to leave several droppings right away, much to Eva’s horror. Wynn took a seat next to her with her own chick. When she noticed the mess, the younger girl grimaced and scooted her chair away.

Eva grew a deep red — yet another first impression gone wrong. She looked around for something to clean the mess up with but found nothing. Instructor Portridge cleared his throat and stepped out from behind his podium, clearly aware of the issue. He produced a rag from somewhere and tossed it to Eva. “In the future, please leave your hatchlings in the nursery before coming to class.”

A couple of students snickered until a stern look from Portridge silenced them. “Of course, sir,” Eva said, looking at Wynn, who shrugged in silent apology. “I didn’t know —”

The instructor cut her off with the wave of a thick hand. “Quite all right, quite all right — it is your first day after all. Wynn should have known better. Anyhow, back to the matter at hand — who can give me an account of the founding of Rhylance?”

About three quarters of the hands in the class shot up. Wynn, on the other hand, ducked her head, focusing on her gryphon chick. Portridge selected a mousy-haired boy near the middle, who stood up and clasped his hands behind his back.

“The Sorondar sailed across the Western Ocean almost four hundred years ago after a terrible plague. On their ships, they brought with them the last surviving gryphons and gryphon eggs from their homeland. When they reached Altaris, the two groups split, some staying on the coast to found Pandion while the gryphon riders continued inland and founded Rhylance.”

Professor Portridge nodded along as the boy spoke, stroking his giant side whiskers. “Very good, very good. And who were the original inhabitants of the Rhylance Valley?”

This time, only a couple of hands raised, but Eva noticed the same boy who’d just answered had his arm stretched so high he was almost out of his seat. He looked to be one of the smallest in the class. “Let’s give someone else a try, eh, Danny?” Portridge said to the boy before selecting a girl to his right. “Go ahead, my dear.”

“The original inhabitants of the Rhylance Valley were the Scrawls,” the girl said. “The Sorondarans fought with them to establish a kingdom here.”

“Well done!” Portridge said. His gusto slid his spectacles to the very end of his mushroom nose. “Now, let’s move on to the founding of the Gyr itself…”

Eva left the room, head buzzing. She’d learned some of the histories from books Soot brought her; only the nobility’s children attended any formal schooling in the city. Given the opportunity, Eva devoured Portridge’s lecture, eager to learn something new. She left the room with a couple of books she’d worked up the nerve to ask to borrow at the end of class.

“Don’t know what you want all them for; you going to hit someone over the head with them?” Wynn asked, shaking her head.

“Don’t you like to read?” Eva asked.

Wynn shrugged. “I’d rather practice with weapons.”

They made their way back to the Roost to leave their chicks at the nursery for the remainder of the day’s classes. Eva, trying to remember the way in her head as she followed Wynn, only got confused at a couple of turns. By now, the gryphon chick was hungry and restless. Eva gladly left him in Cassandra’s care, who took the infuriated chick into her arms and seemed delighted when he tried to eat her finger. She tried not to hide her relief as they made their way back down to the many levels of the fortress, free at last of the little monster who’d plagued her over the past couple of days.

Eva’s joy soon faded, however, when Wynn led them to the Pit for their next class.

Down on the main floor, Eva felt ridiculous as she lined up next to the other new recruits. Everyone else was at least four years younger than her, although watching a few of them warm up she didn’t doubt any of them could outperform her with any weapon in the armory. Lost in her thoughts, she jumped when a loud voice erupted across the cavern.

“Atten-shun!”

Eva scurried into line with the rest and tried to imitate their pose. Tall even for her age, she stuck out like a sore thumb among the younger recruits.

Out of the corner of her eye, Eva saw a bear of man walking out of the smaller caves into the Pit, hands clasped behind his back like he was strolling through a garden. His brown hair was shaved to a stubble atop a block-shaped head. He didn’t say anything as he approached, just stared at them through beady eyes, a look of distaste on his face as if the recruits gave off a foul odor. Eva dropped her eyes to the floor when he stopped in front of her and squared up to face the line of cadets.

“Good morning, magpies!” he said in the same booming voice. “My name is Drill Master Thaddeus Cross. Now, repeat after me: Good morning, Drill Master!”

“Good morning, Drill Master!”

“Excuse me?” Cross said, leaning forward on one leg and cupping a paw to his ear. “I didn’t realize we were in the library. I said Good Morning!”

Eva flinched at Cross’s bellowing but roared back with the rest. She stared straight ahead, over the drill master’s shoulder at a rack of wooden staves against the opposite wall and tried to be as inconspicuous as she could while towering over the other recruits.

“And who do we have here?”

Drill Master Cross stepped forward until he was only a hand’s breadth from Eva. Her stomach twisted like snakes, and she squeezed her hands together behind her back to keep them from shaking. Eva swallowed and tried to keep her face an empty mask.

“Excuse me,” Cross said, hot breath on her face. “I believe I asked you a question. What is your name, Recruit?”

“Evelyn, sir,” she managed without stammering.

“Evelyn, is it?” Cross said, teeth gritted like a bulldog. Eva could see every vein bulging in his face and beads of perspiration gathering on his forehead.

“Or Eva,” she added when he didn’t move. “I mostly go by Eva…sir.”

“And I mostly go by Drill Master, not sir!” Cross bellowed, spraying spittle across her face. Eva stumbled backward.

“Y-y-yes, Drill Master!” Eva said in as loud a voice as she could muster.

Cross sniffed and stomped down the line, looking for his next victim. When she thought the drill master wasn’t looking, Eva wiped her hands on the back of her pants and tried to still her pounding heart.

“You will learn today that I am not here to be your friend,” Cross said, prowling up and down the line. Even without yelling, his voice echoed across the Pit. “I am here to teach you how to fight and kill, if necessary. And, storm willing, if any of you magpies are worth more than a pile of pigeon shit, I will train you into some of the fiercest fighting men and women in all of Altaris.

“You will be drilled in the sword, the bow, the spear, unarmed combat, and anything else that suits my fancy,” Cross continued. He paced along their lines like a wolf outside a sheep barn, just waiting for his opening to strike. “You will sweat. You will bleed. You will vomit. You will break bones and pass beyond all bounds of exhaustion. And then you will do it again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Drill Master Cross!” Eva’s throat felt raw already, and she wondered if she’d sound as loud and rattling as Cross by the time she finished training.

Cross turned on his heel and spun to a stop right in front of Eva again. “Excellent. Now, let us begin. You there, Esther or whatever your name was. Let’s see what prodigies are made of. Step forward.”

Something told Eva it would be a big mistake to correct the drill master on her name. She stepped forward before he found another reason to bust her. Away from the line, she felt small and very alone like a rabbit beneath a circling hawk.

“We’re going to go for a little run,” Cross said. “Through what I like to call the Circuit of Stone. And then when we get back and have a sweat worked up, the real work begins. You take the lead behind me, Queen Magpie, and if I catch you slacking up there in the front, so help me. Now, move!”

For a large man, Cross possessed an unfortunate amount of speed and stamina. Eva and the rest of the class followed behind as the drill master led them out of the Pit into a series of twisting tunnels. Unlike the main passageways of the Gyr, these seemed far older and rougher, torn from the mountain innards. What’s more, they had far fewer crystal lanterns, and Eva stumbled several times trying to keep up with the Cross, who set a punishing pace.

Although sweat soon poured from her, Eva’s work at the forge demanded plenty of stamina. She pushed on without looking back to see how the rest fared. Cross kept going and going and still managed to have enough breath to curse them whenever Eva or anyone else lagged in the slightest. She didn’t know how the younger recruits kept up — the run taxed her enough, and she had almost twice the stride as most of them. Down, down they went, stumbling and sliding on uneven stone and loose gravel. Eva had no clue where they were or how to get back to the upper levels, but after what she guessed was half an hour or so, Cross veered to his right and took them on another path leading up at a sharp slope.

By the time she recognized the Pit ahead, Eva’s legs burned and her hair stuck against her skin in wet strands. Cross stopped when they reached their start position. Sweat darkened the front and back of his uniform, but Cross breathed like he’d taken a walk while the rest of them heaved and braced hands on knees, sucking air.

“No time for rest now, magpies!” Cross shouted moments later. “Drop to the ground.”

Eva lowered her aching body to the cool stone floor, but as soon as her palms touched the ground Cross shouted for them to spring back up. And so it continued. Cross put them through all manner of drills and exercise until Eva slipped into a numb trance. As much as the drill master cursed and belittled the others, he heaped three times as much on Eva, the “Queen Magpie.”

By the time Cross called a halt, the sunlight streaming through the cavern’s opening had faded to a soft orange glow. Eva wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her equally sweaty hand and sucked a deep breath into her exhausted body.

“All right, magpies!” Cross had done at least half the exercises with them and looked like he could’ve gone for hours more if the mood took him. “You’re dismissed! Be sure to hit the baths before you go to the Main Hall for dinner — don’t want your stink ruining my meal, hear me?”

“Yes, Drill Master Cross,” they said, voices dulled and weary.

“What!” the drill master shouted — by now, Eva doubted he’d ever whispered in his life. “Let me hear you!”

“Yes, Drill Master Cross!” their ragged, strained voices replied.

“That’s better,” Cross said. “Welcome to the Gyr, magpies!”

Chapter Eleven

Eva woke the next morning — and the next several mornings — sorer than she’d ever been swinging a hammer in Soot’s forge. Although training with Cross only happened every other day, it was just enough time for Eva’s tired and aching body to reach peak agony before being thrust back into countless drills, runs, courses, or whatever new hell the drill master dreamed up in their absence. When they weren’t exercising their bodies, Cross put them through the same basic motions with wooden swords until Eva thought the boredom might kill her before the physical work did. With so many different weapons to learn, she didn’t see how she’d ever improve, no matter how much they drilled.

Aside from sword work, they practiced archery, knife throwing, footwork with the spear and shield, wrestling, and every other martial skill imaginable. Eva soon found that although she had the strength and endurance to survive Cross’s trainings, she lacked any sort of talent for the finer points of combat. To make matters worse, Cross insisted on pitting three to four of her younger classmates against her each time they fought. It more than made up for their differences in age and size, but nobody benefited.

Eva soon found showing any mercy to her opponents only encouraged Cross to push them harder. As a result, the younger recruits hated training with Eva even if it wasn’t her fault. Eva felt bad until she observed the older Windsworn training. One time Sigrid broke a boy’s nose and dislocated a girl’s shoulder in the time it took Eva to cross from one side of the Pit overlook to the other. From that moment on, Eva counted her bruises and lumps a blessing.

To make matters worse, the gryphon chick only seemed to loathe Eva even more as he grew. Now he was the size of a large cat or small dog. Even with added strength from Cross’s conditioning, Eva could hardly contain the chick in her arms anymore. He’d also started molting his down and enjoyed pulling it out all over Eva and Sigrid’s quarters, not to mention shredding their bedding with his growing beak and talons.

Any hopes Eva had of Sigrid warming to her vanished after the first week. She sneered whenever Eva groaned and dropped on her bed after a long training sessions. Other than that, if Sigrid wasn’t yelling at Eva for something she or the chick had done, the girl pretended like Eva didn’t exist — even on the rare occasions they were in their quarters together for something other than sleeping.

But despite all that, there were things Eva enjoyed about the Gyr life. She loved her non-combat classes, the ones about diplomacy, the history of Altaris and the gryphon riders, and more. Her friendship with Wynn also grew. At dinner, the two of them usually sat apart from the other Windsworn recruits. The younger ones in Eva’s class quickly grew resentful of the reluctant beatings she gave them, while Sigrid seemed to have scared the older ones into keeping their distance. That or word had spread that the red gryphon’s future rider wasn’t all she’d been cracked up to be.

There was one other person who made an effort to speak to Eva whenever their paths crossed: Tahl. Since he’d just become a full-fledged Windsworn like Sigrid, Eva rarely came across him in her daily activities. When she did, her face had a habit of reddening, even before he said hello. Most of the conversations began and ended with Eva muttering something slightly indiscernible, but even those few moments helped carry her through the punishing days with Cross, frustrating evenings with the red gryphon, and icy encounters with Sigrid.

At the moment, Eva had more pressing problems to worry about than Cross, her chick, or even Sigrid. Today was their first class with the adult gryphons to learn the basics of flight. After weeks cleaning out old nests, caring for the various gryphon injuries and maladies, and long lectures, the dreaded day had arrived.

Now, to make matters worse, she’d gotten lost after taking what she thought was a shortcut from the library. Instead, Eva and the gryphon chick found themselves in an unfamiliar narrow tunnel. The red gryphon hissed in her arms as the cracked crystal lanterns flickered, casting an eerie light around them.

“I don’t like it, either,” Eva said, attempting to calm the chick with a pet on his mottled down and feather head. He responded by nipping at her hand, but by now Eva could anticipate such attacks and jerked it back.

When the tunnel split in two again, Eva paused and blew out a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions under control. On top of being lost and late for flight class — bad enough under the best circumstances — she told herself it wouldn’t do to get worked up and wander into some trap room or pit. Closing her eyes, Eva counted in her head like she’d learned from the meditation classes then went with her gut feeling: the left tunnel.

Several turns and dozens of paces later, Eva noticed the smooth walls melt into the roughhewn rock that she’d only seen before in the lower parts of the Gyr, even though she knew she wasn’t far from the Roost. The lanterns flickered and faded even more, but a pale blue light appeared ahead and grew as Eva approached. The air turned cold — colder even than the Roost, and Eva felt goose bumps spread up her arms. She’d just decided to turn around when a wild screech split the silence.

Eva bit back a scream of her own, and the gryphon chick leapt from her arms, scurrying toward the noise. For a long moment, Eva considered leaving him behind then, realizing she’d probably be thrown off the side of the mountain for doing so, gave chase.

“Get back here!”

In the dim light, Eva could barely see the red gryphon’s tail as he whipped around another curve in the tunnel ahead of her. She growled and ran harder.

“Ha!” Rounding the corner on a burst of speed, Eva dove and stretched out to snag the gryphon chick. She hit the ground hard but held on tight as the hatchling kicked and fought to free himself. Undeterred, Eva yanked him closer, copper-colored wings buffeting her face. “Gotcha, you little monster!”

The hatchling went limp in her arms, and Eva felt a surge of relief. At the same time, the air above her felt close. Eva rolled over and found herself staring into the milky, sightless eyes of an ancient black gryphon.

Before Eva could make a sound, a spotted and wrinkled hand clapped over her mouth. An equally ancient man appeared above her, blocking Eva’s site of the black gryphon. Holding a finger to his lips, he slowly slid his hand away and motioned for her to rise. As she did so, the blind gryphon jerked its head toward her, emitting a low hiss. Eva clamped her hand over the chick’s beak as it started to answer.

Eva followed the old man around the edge of the chamber, hugging the rock wall until he brought them to a smaller cave, too small for the black gryphon to enter. The ancient gryphon’s milky white eyes followed them and it clicked its beak and tapped its long, gnarled claws on the stone floor. Inside, Eva spotted a few half-ruined books surrounded by old leaves and bits of long-dead animals but not much else.

“My, my, what do we have here, eh?” the old man asked when Eva entered the small cave. “Don’t get visitors very often, by the storm, we don’t. Good thing you didn’t eat them, eh, Basil?”

Eva guessed Basil was the gryphon’s name because when it heard the old man it let out a croaky sound like it agreed with him.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I got lost on my way to the Roost.”

The old man shook his head and held a finger to his lips. Wrinkles within wrinkles lined his face, and long, thin strands of white hair blew like wisps across his head. His eyes, though, were bright and green and sharp as any blade. Unlike every other Windsworn Eva had seen, the old man wore stained and faded black leathers.

“Best not speak too much, my dear,” he said, grinning. His smile showed a sparse collection of cracked and yellowed teeth. “Basil doesn’t take kindly to interruptions.”

“Please,” Eva said in a lower voice. “If you’ll show me the way out, I’ll leave you alone.”

The old man cackled, and Eva felt a tingling run down her back. The gryphon chick tensed as well, burrowing against Eva in a rare show of fear. The old man’s laughter died on his thin lips, and he almost looked hurt by Eva’s reaction.

“Don’t worry, dear, you’re in safe hands with me and old Basil,” he said, voice softening. “I am Lord Vyr!”

The way he said it made Eva think she ought to know the name. She racked her brain to recall a Lord Vyr from the long list of Windsworn in her history lessons but drew a blank. It didn’t seem prudent or polite to say that, however.

“It’s nice to meet you, my lord.” She shifted the gryphon chick in her arms and saluted.

Lord Vyr gave another broken smile. “Ah! A girl with manners. Very good.”

Still flustered and ready to be gone, Eva had no idea what to say.

“May I see?” he asked, holding his arms out. “The gryphon? The…red gryphon.”

As rocky as their relationship was, Eva felt a sudden surge of protectiveness toward the little gryphon.

“I…I’d better keep him,” she said. “He isn’t the friendliest.”

Lord Vyr chuckled and jerked a thumb toward the black gryphon pacing back and forth outside in the larger chamber. Eva caught sight of his milk-white eyes staring back at her as if it weren’t blind at all. “I understand completely. Come, let me show you something.”

The old man beckoned Eva over to a small stone table in the center of the cavern. A chill ran through her when she looked at its surface. It was carved with deep lines of ancient runes and had several dark brownish-red stains that looked like blood long dried.

“It’s all here,” Lord Vyr said, waving a hand over the table.

When he offered no further explanation, Eva venture a question. “All…what?”

“Everything!” the old man said, sounding irritated. “If you’re smart enough to read it. A gryphon born once in a generation, to fight the iron storm and save us from the breaking wind.”

The back of Eva’s neck tingled and the gryphon chick fell still in her arms. “Is that the prophecy?” she asked.

“A part of it, yes.”

Eva’s heart quickened. Here she might be able to find her answers, find out if she truly belonged at the Gyr, if she was truly meant to be Windsworn.

“But,” Eva said, staring at the table. “What does it mean? What does the prophecy say about the rider?”

“Huh?” Lord Vyr looked at her like she was the one mumbling nonsense.

“The rider of the red griffin.”

Lord Vyr frowned and picked his nose. “The prophecy doesn't say anything about the rider.”

Eva’s heart sank. Lord Vyr must have noticed because he placed a hand on Eva’s shoulder. She winced — it was the same one he’d just been inspecting his nose with.

“Isn’t the rider just as important as the gryphon?” she asked.

The old man studied her for a long while and shook his head. “That’s the trick! Only you can answer the questions you seek.” He jabbed a finger into her breastbone, and Eva took a step back.

“That doesn’t make much sense,” she muttered.

Lord Vyr threw back his head and laughed until his cackles echoed throughout the cave. “Just like your father!”

Your father.

Eva’s blood ran cold. “My father? How do you — did you know him?” It seemed impossible. How could Lord Vyr known Eva or anything about her past?

“Fear or greatness,” the old man said instead. “I see them both pulling at you. Which will you choose?”

“Please!” Eva said, desperate for any bit of information he would give her. “Please, tell me what you know of my father!”

Instead, Lord Vyr pointed to a ragged tapestry hanging from the back of the cavern. “Behind there, you will find safe passage to the Roost. Take only left turns until you recognize where you are.”

“I’m begging you,” Eva said, tears welling in her eyes. “Please…I need to know.”

With a surprisingly gentle touch, Lord Vyr raised her chin until their eyes met. “The truth cannot be found here with a blind old gryphon and crazy old man. Remember what I said — fear or greatness. You can only serve one. Now, it is time for you to go. Basil grows restless.”

As he spoke, another blood-curdling screech reverberated through the chamber, and Eva felt a rush of wind as powerful black wings beat at the walls outside the small cave. Lord Vyr lifted the corner of the tapestry, exposing a tunnel just wide and tall enough for Eva to fit through.

“It would not be wise to return,” Lord Vyr said. “But if you do, a jar of honey would not go amiss.”

Eva nodded, unable to speak as her mind whirled with dozens of questions. Wiping the last tear from her face, she hefted the gryphon chick and ducked into the tunnel.

“Fear or greatness!” Lord Vyr’s shout echoed after her long after the sound had faded in the dim light and dark stone. “Remember, Evelyn!”

It was only then Eva realized she’d never given the old man her name.

Chapter Twelve

Just as Lord Vyr promised, Eva soon found her way back to familiar paths and arrived at the Roost in short order. She walked into the open cavern and found Roost Master Cassandra at the far end of the chamber, a tan gryphon beside her, surrounded by the rest of Eva’s class. When she saw Eva, Cassandra shot her a look of reproach but didn’t break from her lecture to say anything. Wynn gave her a questioning look, but Eva shook her head.

“Later,” she mouthed.

“Riding a gryphon is not at all like riding a horse,” Cassandra said. “In flight, you move in all directions: left, right, up, down, sideways. You must be holding on at all times, or you will fall. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Roost Master,” the class answered in a subdued voice that would’ve turned Drill Master Cross’s face purple.

Cassandra pursed her lips together and looked over the recruits. “Good. I can stand here and talk until I die of old age, but the fastest way to learn is by doing. Wynn, why don’t we have you go first?”

Wynn shot Eva an excited grin and pushed her way to the front of the group. She made to climb into the gryphon’s saddle then and there, but the roost master grabbed her shoulder, stopping Wynn in her tracks

“Not so fast,” Cassandra said. “As I said before, this is no common plow horse you’re riding; this is a gryphon. They are not beasts of burden. Now, approach Gaius in the front.”

Cassandra pivoted Wynn around until she stood in front of the big tan gryphon. Gaius watched her with golden eyes but didn’t seem very interested in the young girl before him. Wynn took a cautious step forward, arms extended until her hands touched Gaius’s beak. Eva couldn’t help but stare at the wicked curve at the end of the gryphon’s beak.

“Very good, Wynn,” Cassandra said, “Now, you may step around his wing into the saddle. Go easy now!”

Gaius sank to the ground and spread his great wings, and Wynn stepped around to the space between the wing and the gryphon’s feline torso. After a moment’s hesitation, the young girl swung into the small saddle. When he felt Wynn settle on his back, Gaius rose, too. Wynn grinned and waved to everyone from her vantage point atop the gryphon.

Next, Cassandra stepped around the wings and cinched both of Wynn’s legs down with straps and buckles attached to the stirrups. Wynn firmly in place, the roost master did a once-over on the gryphon’s saddle and harness then stepped back.

“Yah!” Wynn shouted, flicking the reins. Gaius turned his mighty bird’s head around and looked at the girl like he might a fly buzzing around him.

Cassandra frowned. “Gryphons are not our servants, Wynn, they are partners. If you wish to ever become Windsworn, you must learn to work with them, not command them. Now, try again.”

Wynn blushed then reached forward and patted the gryphon’s neck. “All right, Gaius, let’s —”

Before she could finish, the gryphon leapt forward and launched himself into the air. Wynn’s initial scream turned into a shout of excitement as the tan gryphon climbed higher and higher toward the crack of sky far above. Watching Wynn, Eva recalled her own trip on Stormwind, and her vision started reeling. She looked at the ground and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, Gaius swooped down and landed. The class erupted in cheers as Wynn waved to them from the gryphon’s back.

“Very good,” Cassandra said, looking satisfied but somewhat less enthused than the recruits. “Who’s next?”

One by one, they went through the entire class until only Eva remained. With each student she saw successfully take off and land, her heart sank lower and lower. At last, no one else remained, and the roost master beckoned to Eva.

“All right, Evelyn,” she said, smiling. “We saved the best for last. I imagine you can’t wait until you’re soaring on the back of that gryphon of yours, so we’d better get you trained up!”

The entire class turned to watch, and Eva wished she could melt into the stone floor. She swallowed and tried not to look as terrified as she felt at the prospect of another gryphon flight. Riding on the back of Stormwind with Andor controlling the creature had been bad enough, but now it would be just her and Gaius. Even the gryphon regarded her with his big amber eyes as if wondering what she was waiting for.

Cassandra beckoned to her. “Come on, girl, we haven’t got all day!”

Eva took another step, mouth dry as her palms were damp. Lord Vyr’s cryptic words echoed in her mind Greatness or fear…greatness or fear. At the moment, fear looked to have won the day. Still, she squeezed her shaking hands until her fingernails bit into her palms as she approached the gryphon.

Up close, the tan gryphon seemed even bigger than Stormwind, although Eva’s fear could certainly have had something to do with Gaius’s imposing size. Sickness rose in Eva’s tangled stomach, and she knew she was going to throw up. She turned so she didn’t get it on the gryphon when —

“Excuse me!” A voice echoed from across the Roost. Tahl’s voice. Eva hadn’t thought it was possible to feel worse until she realized she’d look a fool in front of him, too. As the class turned their attention to Tahl, Eva fought the urge to run and hide.

“My apologies, Roost Master,” Tahl said, approaching them. Eva wondered how he walked like that: so graceful and sure. “I’ve come on an errand from Lord Commander Andor. He wishes to speak with Eva — immediately.”

Minutes later, Eva walked beside Tahl, unable to believe her luck. Although disappointed, Cassandra had no choice but to release Eva before she could go for her first ride. Eva did her best not to look relieved as she joined Tahl and left the Roost.

Half of her wondered if the lord commander had decided to kick her out after all — Tahl didn’t know why he’d been asked to summon Eva. The rest of Eva’s attention focused on Tahl. He seemed to know everyone and had a smile and greeting no matter whom they passed. When they ran into younger Windsworn around their own age, Eva couldn’t help but notice the knowing smirks the boys shot Tahl and the frowns she received from some of the girls.

“So, how do you like life in the Gyr?” Tahl asked when they reached a hall wide enough for them to walk side by side again.

“It’s great,” Eva lied. In truth, she thought about quitting and going home every other night, but something about Sigrid’s dislike for her kept her going. She told herself every day she remained proved the other girl wrong.

“Good!” Tahl said. He seemed keen to listen, and Eva wished she had something more to say. “How is the chick doing?”

“He’s…a handful sometimes,” Eva said. Since she still had a full day of class ahead (assuming she wasn’t being kicked out), Eva had left the chick in the Roost.

Tahl nodded. “Some are like that, but challenging gryphons can form the strongest bonds with their riders. I’m sure you two will warm to one another as time passes; it’s just like any relationship.”

In spite of her inner doubts, Eva could almost believe him. The thought was better than the alternative: that the red gryphon would one day be big enough to eat her. Eva forced the terrifying image from her mind and struggled to think of something else to say to keep the conversation going.

“So, what do you do, once you’re a full-fledged Windsworn?” Eva asked.

“A lot of the same things as you,” Tahl said, shaking his head. “The training never ends, but it does slow down a bit. Our time in the sky is spent doing patrols and that sort of thing. There’s rumors that the Juarag are getting bolder on the eastern frontier, though, so that could liven things up around here.”

“Oh.” Eva couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say about that — having spent her entire life in Gryfonesse she knew little about foreign affairs. A long silence stretched between them.

In the quiet, Eva noticed how close they were, close enough their hands bumped one another as they walked through some of the more congested or skinnier halls. She wondered what Tahl’s hand would feel like. Growing up working the forge, she still remembered the first boy who’d commented on her calluses, burn scars, and blisters. Recalling the teasing, Eva bunched her hands into fists and hid them behind her back.

“Almost there,” Tahl said. They entered the Main Hall and proceeded up the balcony. This time, two guards were posted outside of the lord commander’s quarters instead of at the end of the hall in front of the Council chamber.

“Returning to the lord commander with Recruit Evelyn,” Tahl said. Eva’s insides fluttered when he said her name. The guards nodded, boredom plain on their faces, and gestured for them to proceed up the staircase

“It’s a bit weird having guards everywhere,” Tahl said when they’d circled out of sight.

“What do you mean?”

“Since the attack on Devana, it put the Council a bit on edge, I think. They insisted the lord commander post a guard outside his chamber. I mean, we’re supposed to be untouchable up here. The fact that some Scrawl boy could just —”

“Ivan didn’t kill her,” Eva said. The edge in her voice surprised her. Tahl raised his hands as if to fend her off.

“I’m just saying,” he said in a gentle tone. “If you don’t think the Scrawl did it, then who?”

Before Eva could answer, they reached the top of the stairs and Andor stepped out to meet them. Dark circles highlighted an overall look of weariness on the lord commander’s face.

“Thank you, Tahl,” he said. “You are dismissed.”

Tahl hesitated. “I was thinking…I mean, I can wait and escort Eva back to her quarters after you’ve finished talking with her, my lord?”

Eva welled with excitement, but Andor dashed any hopes of a second walk with a tired wave of his hand. “Thank you, but no need,” he said. “I will make sure Eva can find her way back.”

The young rider shrugged as if he didn’t care either way, shattering Eva’s joy from their trip. “As you wish, Lord Commander.” Tahl saluted, and Eva watched him leave out of the corner of her eye before Andor waved her in.

“Please, come in.”

Eva nodded, feeling tense as she crossed the room to the stone table. After the public dressing down with the rest of the Windsworn Council, she didn’t find Andor as friendly and fatherly as when they’d first met.

“I’m sure you’re busy with your training, so I won’t keep you long,” Andor said. He ran a hand over his sleep-lined face and through his hair, giving it a rumpled look quite unlike his regular tidy appearance. “I apologize for the incident in the Council chamber. I should have explained to you… things moved a bit different than I anticipated, and for that I ask your forgiveness.”

“It’s…” Eva trailed off. It wasn’t okay, and she couldn’t bring herself to tell him it was. “No apologies necessary, Lord Commander.”

“I trust your training is going well?” Andor asked, apparently as eager to move on as Eva.

“There’s a lot to take in,” Eva said. “But I’m learning,” she added, hoping she didn’t sound too lost and hopeless.

Andor nodded. “Good, good. To business then: The Scrawl boy — Ivar or something, wasn’t it? — the boy will be tried before the king in two days’ time. As you can probably understand, the Scrawls are less than pleased that we’ve detained one of their own, but given the circumstances there wasn’t anything else we could do. The situation is…delicate. We’ve built a solid alliance with the Scrawls over the last hundred years, but this incident has the possibility to put that in jeopardy.”

“I think I understand,” Eva said. She fidgeted on her chair, not sure where to look.

“Good,” Andor said. “You enter the story, of course, when Ivan hid in your woodshed and Devana’s egg hatched for you. Because of this you must testify at the Scrawl boy’s trial.”

“Ivan didn’t do it, Lord Commander!” Eva blurted out. “I know he didn’t! I — I can’t explain it, but —”

Andor held up a hand, and Eva sucked in a deep breath, trembling from the outburst. “Eva, I need you to calm down,” he said. “No one is asking you to condemn the boy. I only want you to tell the truth, as you saw it. That being said…the evidence against him is damning, to say the least. Even if he didn’t kill Devana, he stole one of our eggs.”

“I’ll come,” Eva said at once, surprising herself. She tried not to picture testifying before the entire court when another sickening thought filled her. “What…what will happen if the king believes Ivan killed Devana?”

Andor sighed and looked out his window. “The Scrawl boy will be sentenced to death.”

Chapter Thirteen

The day of the trial came, and the thought of speaking before the king’s court loomed over Eva like a dark, swirling cloud about to burst. She’d told Wynn about her conversation with the lord commander. Now the younger girl sat beside her like a mother hen, pushing biscuits, oatmeal, bacon, and wheat cakes her way, although Eva didn’t touch anything.

“You’re going to starve if you don’t have something!” Wynn said.

Eva shook her head. Her stomach felt like a bunch of writhing snakes, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold anything down even if she had an appetite. Just when Eva thought Wynn would stuff something in her mouth, a guard appeared and tapped Eva on the shoulder.

“Time to go, Miss.”

Eva followed the man to the lower shelf where she and Andor had landed. She was so wrapped up in the coming trial that Eva almost forgot about the flight down to Gryfonesse. It would be the first time she’d flown since her journey to the mountain. In the past two days, she’d done her best to avoid the Roost other than to drop off the red chick for care. So far, Cassandra hadn’t had the chance to get her airborne.

When they came out of the passage, Andor was waiting along with Celina, Uthred, and the rest of the Windsworn Council. Eva felt their eyes boring into her and focused on the ground just in front of her until she reached Andor and gave him a weak salute.

“All ready?” he asked.

Eva nodded, and the lord commander frowned.

“Do you feel okay, Eva?”

“Fine,” she managed to say in a completely unconvincing tone.

When Stormwind leveled from his descent, Eva forced her eyes open and found they were skimming above the tops of the highest buildings in the city. Below, people looked up from their everyday business, shouting and pointing at the gryphons soaring above them in a perfect arrow-shaped formation. One look at the speeding ground sent Eva’s head spinning, and she closed her eyes again. She felt Stormwind’s wings shift, and when she looked again they were descending over the courtyard.

When they landed at last, Eva slid from the gryphon’s back, grateful to be on solid ground once more. Lines of soldiers with polished armor, winged helms, and tall spears stood at attention. In the middle of them, before the palace doors, was the king of Rhylance.

While the rest of the Windsworn landed around them, Andor placed his hands on Eva’s shoulders and stared at her with his pale, searching eyes. “I almost forgot. The king may seem a little…cold. Don’t let this rattle you. It’s nothing you’ve done, I promise. Just truthfully answer whatever questions you’re asked, and everything will be fine.”

Assembled together, the Windsworn walked down the rows of soldiers. Andor and Eva at the lead with Uthred and Celina behind, followed by the rest. As they drew closer, Eva couldn’t help but notice the similarities between King Adelar and the lord commander.

They were of almost identical size and build with the same icy blue eyes set in hard, stern faces. Whereas Andor’s graying blond hair came to his shoulders, the king’s was cropped short. There could be no denying it — the two most powerful men in Rhylance had to be close relatives.

Eva realized how pale and sickly she must look despite the intricate braids she’d worked in her hair in anticipation of appearing before the king. Her legs felt like two bars of flimsy, red-hot iron straight out of the forge. As they approached, Eva focused her attention on the king’s feet until Andor stopped and sank to one knee, Eva and the rest following suit.

“Arise, all of you.”

The king stepped forward and drew Andor into a brief, rigid hug. A quick smile cracked through his hard countenance, and Eva thought she glimpsed a younger, happier man buried beneath the burdens of kingship. “It is good to see you, Brother,” the king said.

When his eyes fell on Eva, however, any trace of pleasure dropped away faster than a heated blade placed in quenching oil. “And who is this?” the king asked the lord commander.

Andor seemed nervous, which made Eva even more on edge. “This is the girl I told you about, my King. The one Devana’s egg hatched for.”

King Adelar looked Eva over and, much like Uthred and Drill Master Cross, seemed to find her severely lacking in whatever he sought. “Indeed.”

Without another word, the king continued down the line to Celina and Uthred like Eva wasn’t there. Andor beckoned her to follow him inside.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked the lord commander. Andor shook his head but offered no explanation.

Eva couldn’t help but wonder if there was something he wasn’t telling her, although she couldn’t imagine what it might be. Inside the citadel, they passed down a long hall with statues of gryphons sitting between the marble pillars. Each bore a bronze nameplate, but Andor moved too fast for Eva to read them.

They soon entered the court itself, two massive doors wrought with gold, each carved with a wing. More winged-helm guards stood at attention as Andor and the rest of the Windsworn Council passed through.

Inside, the throne drew Eva’s eyes at once — a massive thing carved from a single piece of light-colored wood, a pair of wings rising from either side. A half circle of tables was laid out at the bottom of the dais. There on the far left, Eva saw the delegation of Scrawl Elders waiting.

The pale men and women sat with their hands in their laps as if this were nothing more than a play preparing to begin. One or two leaned over and whispered something to their neighbors, but for the most part the Scrawls stared forward, silent. Although all of them wore long, dark forest-green robes, there was no hiding the rune tattoos covering almost every inch of visible skin on their bodies. Eva recalled Ivan’s ability to stop Seppo dead in his tracks with a few words and a twist of his hands. How much power could a dozen Scrawl Elders wield, then?

Andor waited until the rest of the Windsworn had taken their seats across from the Scrawls before motioning for Eva. She walked behind the lord commander like he was a shield protecting her from the Elders. When they neared the tables, one of the Scrawls — a man with a braid of long white hair over his shoulder — stood and smiled in greeting.

“Well met, Lord Commander,” he said, clasping his hands together and bowing.

“Well met, Master Vladim,” Andor said, dipping his head. He put a hand on Eva’s back and guided her forward. “This, as I’m sure you’ve heard, is our newest recruit at the Gyr. The one the red egg hatched for. Evelyn.”

The old man smiled, and the blue ink on his face shifted and crinkled with his weathered skin. “It is an honor to meet you. I also thank you for the kindness you showed our young Ivan. We have had a chance to speak briefly to him before the trial, and he spoke well of you.”

Eva blushed. “I — of course.”

“I must apologize again for the trouble he has caused,” Vladim continued. “Ivan is powerful but does not yet have full control of his powers. He can be headstrong, rash, and impatient as well. Had we done a better job teaching him patience, perhaps none of us would be here today.”

“Be that as it may,” Andor began. Before he could finish, however, a herald walked through the doors of the court.

“All rise for his royal highness King Adelar of Rhylance!”

When everyone was in their proper place, the man rapped his staff against the marble floor and stepped to the side. The king walked past in measured paces like a wolf on the prowl. When he seated himself at the throne, he looked as absolute and unmoving as the Gyr itself. He waved a hand, and the court took their seats

Chain clinked against the marble floor as Eva’s head turned in time to see Ivan enter, escorted on either side by palace guards. Contrary to her fears, the Scrawl boy seemed well fed and rested — better off than Eva at any rate. A chain wrapping around his shoulders bound his arms and hands in front of him, but in a gesture of good faith nothing covered the boy’s mouth. Even so, the two guards kept one hand on their sword hilts and looked ready to strike the young Scrawl down at a moment’s notice.

Ivan glanced around the room and broke into a large smile when he saw Eva. Some of the Windsworn turned to her and frowned, quelling any thoughts Eva had of waving back. The guards led Ivan below the throne to the center of the circle of tables and then stepped back.

“Lord Commander Andor, will you explain the purpose of this court?” the king commanded.

“Of course, my King,” Andor said, standing. “The Scrawl boy before you is accused of stealing an egg from the Gyr and murdering of one of our gryphons. The thief will be tried according to Sorondar law and if found guilty, sentenced to death.”

The king looked at the Scrawl Elders with his gray-chipped eyes and motioned for Vladim to rise. “Rune Master Vladim. We have asked you to attend this court under the belief that the actions of your acolyte do not reflect those of the Scrawl people as a nation. Do you have anything to say before we begin?”

Vladim clasped his hands together and bowed once more. He walked out into the middle of the tables and stopped in front of Ivan without looking at the boy.

“The Scrawl Elders played no part in this travesty, your Highness,” the rune master said. “Nor has our extensive searching since the event revealed further conspirators. My apprentice is young, headstrong, and often reckless with his developing powers. It is my belief that his theft of the egg was the result of overconfidence and misunderstanding of his abilities. As for the death of the gryphon mother, Ivan may be rash, but I do not believe he is a murderer.”

Glancing down the line of Windsworn and at the nobles seated above, Eva didn’t see any who agreed with the Scrawl Elder. Most looked ready to execute Ivan then and there.

“Thank you, Rune Master,” the king said. He turned and gestured at the Windsworn. “Lord Commander Andor, please stand and give your account.”

As he walked to the center of the court, Eva watched the lord commander. To her relief, the bloodthirsty look the rest of the Sorondarans had was absent from his face.

“My King, lords and ladies, visiting dignitaries, and fellow Windsworn,” Andor said. “I have a sworn testimony from my right wing, who saw this young Scrawl fleeing the Roost. When he entered the nesting area, Uthred found the female gryphon Devana dead, her throat slashed.”

“A grave crime, indeed,” Vladim said, “But was there no witness of the murder itself?”

“What else was there to see?” Uthred asked. He rose and pointed to Ivan. “I saw this boy, fleeing from the Roost. There was no one else present.”

Eva saw several Scrawl Elders break into angry mutters, frowning at Uthred. Vladim, without turning around, seemed to sense the tension among his peers but showed no emotion as he continued. “Be that as it may, there is still no explanation for how Ivan entered or left the mountain,” the rune master said, spreading his arms wide. “There are many kennings and much power to be gleaned from the runes, but flight is not one of them, I assure you.”

Now it was the Windsworn delegation’s turn to cast angry looks across the court and grumble to one another. Even Andor scowled. “Are you suggesting that a Windsworn helped your apprentice in and out of the Gyr?”

“I only posed the question,” Vladim replied. “It seems —”

Several shouts erupted from both sides, interrupting the rune master. The contention spread until the entire room shouted back and forth and several members of each party rose from their seats.

“Silence!” The king’s voice broke through the din, and the court went quiet as everyone settled back into their places. He fixed his cold eyes on Ivan. “Let us hear from the boy.”

Eva couldn’t see Ivan’s face, but the young Scrawl didn’t seem tense or worried. Eva thought he must have been the only calm person in the room.

“My story remains the same, your Highness,” Ivan said. He turned around, chains clinking with the motion, and looked between Andor and the Windsworn. “I didn’t steal the egg to harm it. I was protecting it.”

“Filthy liar!” More outrage burst from the Windsworn, but Adelar raised a hand and silenced them with a stern look.

“And what,” the lord commander asked, “made you think the egg was in danger?”

“I saw it,” Ivan said. For the first time, he seemed flustered, almost confused. “I can’t explain it, but I had a vision — the egg would be destroyed if I didn’t take it.”

“I see,” Andor said. Eva could tell at once he didn’t believe the boy. “And how did you gain entrance into the Gyr? Did you climb the mountain?”

“I — I don’t know, my lord.”

“Did you fly on a gryphon?”

“I… I can’t remember,” Ivan said, brow furrowing. “There are…parts missing. I recall picking up the egg and then nothing until I was in the city.”

Uthred snorted, loud enough for the entire court to hear.

“So, you would have us believe you stole the egg to protect it because of a vision?” King Adelar asked. “And yet you have no recollection of how you completed the act?”

A sheen of sweat appeared on Ivan’s shaved head, and Eva realized just how young the Scrawl was. “Yes, your Highness,” he said in a low voice.

A dreadful silence settled over the room. Even the Scrawl Elders looked incredulous after their acolyte’s account.

“Where is the girl?” the king barked. Eva jumped in her seat and felt ice rushing through her limbs when she realized he meant her. King Adelar looked at her and waved. “Come up here, and tell us your part in this farce.”

Trembling, Eva rose. As she walked around the tables, she clenched her hands together, fighting her trembling body. She felt naked in the middle of the court, and everyone’s eyes fell on her like dozens of pinpricks. Reaching the base of the throne, she forced herself to look up at the king. Adelar’s piercing eyes froze her to the spot.

“Well?” the king said. “Tell me your story.”

Eva’s tongue felt rougher than mountain stone. She opened her mouth twice, and no words came out. All the while the king stared at her, boring into her with his expression of disdain. After a moment, Andor walked up beside her. “Go on, Eva,” he said.

Reassured by the lord commander’s presence, like a shield from everyone’s focus, Eva found her voice and related everything that had happened from the moment she found Ivan in the shed until the riders arrived and the red egg hatched. The king listened without comment, his gaze never shifting from her. As she spoke, Eva stared at his feet, afraid that if she looked up she would be unable to talk again.

“The Scrawl told you the egg was for you?” King Adelar asked. “He said he brought it to you and wouldn’t leave until you took possession of it, is that correct?”

“Y-yes, your Highness,” Eva said. “Several times.”

Surprised murmurs broke out across the court and in the balcony above. The king leaned forward on the throne and looked into Eva’s eyes. “This is the truth? Lying to the king is a crime punishable by execution.”

“I-I swear, your Highness,” Eva managed to say. Her body felt like it had been dunked in ice water, and she fought to breathe.

The king stared at her for several more moments without saying anything. Just when Eva thought she’d be sentenced to death right there in the court, he stood. “I would speak with the lord commander and rune master in my private chambers.”

As the two men followed Adelar into a room behind the throne, the court broke out in dozens of conversations. Dazed, Eva found her way back to her chair and almost collapsed into it.

“Well done,” Celina leaned over and said.

“Thank you, Commander,” Eva mumbled. She felt exhausted, as tired as if she’d just finished a full day of training. The only thing she wanted was to crawl in bed, away from everyone. Celina, however, continued talking.

“The king is in a difficult position,” the commander said. “The boy stole the egg, but he may very well have saved it — and there is no proof of murder.”

“So, what’s going to happen?” Eva asked. She looked across the room at Ivan, who stood on the edge of the Scrawl’s tables while the Elders spoke among themselves. When he caught her eye, the boy grinned and waved. Eva had no idea how he could act like that given the fact that his life hung on the king’s decision. She looked back at Celina. “You don’t think — they won’t kill Ivan, will they?”

Celina’s hand strayed to the bracer on her forearm, and she ran her fingers across the dark metal. “I do not think so,” she said at last. “The murder of a gryphon is a grievous thing, but not something the king would risk a war over.”

Eva wasn’t sure why Celina chose to talk to her when the rest of the Council sat around them, but it made her feel less alone in the daunting chamber. “So, you think he’s telling the truth, too?” she asked.

The commander laughed, leaving Eva blushing and wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “Someday you’ll learn the truth isn’t as simple as this or that,” Celina said. “Sometimes, you’ve just got to settle for the middle ground.”

Not wanting to look like an even bigger fool, Eva looked away without response, feigning interest in the tapestries behind the throne. One in particular caught her eye. It appeared to be a lineage of the kings and queens of Rhylance, back to the kingdom’s founding, but there was a spot at the bottom that looked like it had been cut out. Eva almost asked Celina about it then stopped herself — she already felt ignorant enough.

Moments later, all thought of the tapestry left Eva’s mind as King Adelar, Andor, and Vladim appeared. The lord commander and rune master wore subdued expressions. The king, Eva guessed, wore a permanent scowl. He sat on the throne and looked across both parties, eyes lingering for a moment on Eva as they passed over the Windsworn delegation.

“After much discussion,” he said, “I have decided to let the Scrawl boy live.”

Eva sighed, drained but relieved for Ivan. Around her, the Windsworn scowled at one another, but no one dared voice their displeasure to the king. For their part, the majority of the Scrawl Elders looked no different than if the king had decreed their acolyte would be put to death.

“However,” the king added, cutting through the surprised whispers of the nobility in the gallery above the court, “until the murderer is discovered or the lord commander can be certain that there will be no further attacks, the rune master has agreed to leave his apprentice in the custody of the Windsworn. Both parties have agreed to these terms, and as such, I declare this matter resolved.”

With that, King Adelar rose, waving a hand to dismiss everyone. Dozens of voices began speaking all at once until the throne room buzzed with conversation. Eva glanced at the throne and found the king staring at her, a strange, vacant expression on his face. She looked away at once but could still feel his gaze upon her as she filed out with the rest of the Windsworn, desperate to leave the palace. When the gryphon riders passed the Scrawls, most pretended not to notice the other, although Andor and Vladim exchanged curt nods.

Eva focused on the floor as she passed and was almost to the palace doors when Vladim called out to her.

“Miss Evelyn, could I have a moment of your time before you depart?”

Surprised, Eva looked over at Andor, who nodded. Although it was about the last thing she wanted to do, she turned around and forced a tiny smile on her face.

“I will be brief,” the rune master said in a low voice. “I am in debt to you for your testimony today.”

“I…I just told the truth, nothing special,” Eva said, embarrassed.

Vladim smiled and shook his head. “Ah, but it is,” he said. “You have saved the life of an innocent boy, one who is very precious to us. The gift of divining the future from the runes is among the rarest of gifts with our people – Ivan is the sole living member of our order with this power. I would caution you, however. Even if he had complete grasp of this ability, the future is still…uncertain. And fragmented.”

The rune master cast his eyes around and lowered his voice. “As such, I feel I should warn you: I said this to the king and lord commander in private, but I believe there is something sinister at work in your mountain. Something none of us comprehend. Will you do something for me? Will you check in on Ivan whenever you can?”

“Oh,” Eva said, still trying to process Vladim’s warning. What did he mean, something sinister? “Of — of course.”

The rune master smiled again and bowed. “As kind as you are beautiful. Until we meet again, please take care of yourself and your new charge. The birth of a red gryphon is no insignificant thing, even to my people.”

“Uh…thank you,” Eva said, unsure how to respond. She made an awkward goodbye and hurried to catch up with Andor.

Outside, the lord commander was already across the courtyard, preparing Stormwind for their return journey. She saw Ivan nearby with two other Windsworn securing him on the back of a gryphon, chains and all.

“I told you it would all work out!” he yelled to Eva. Before she could reply, the two Windsworn looked at her, their expressions saying they didn’t think it had worked out that well at all.

“What did the rune master want?” Andor asked. When Eva explained, she was surprised to see the lord commander nod in agreement.

“I think that would be good,” he said. “Under guard at all times, of course. Just promise me one thing.”

The lord commander placed his hands on Eva’s shoulders, rooting her to the spot with his blue eyes, so very much like his brother’s. “Promise me if Ivan says anything odd or acts strange in any way that you will let me know immediately. Understood?”

Eva nodded, wondering how a smith’s assistant could find herself wrapped up in so many grand events and promises in such a short amount of time.

Chapter Fourteen

“By thunder, girl, what is your problem?”

Eva winced at Cross’s shouting and paused her drill with Wynn. Single-handed, the younger girl had beaten her bigger, stronger opponent throughout the entire exercise, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the drill master. Cross strode forward and yanked the wooden practice sword from Eva’s hand, drawing the attention of everyone else drilling in the Pit.

“I-I don’t understand, sir,” Eva said, staring at the drill master’s feet.

“Look at me when you speak, Queen Magpie!” Cross snarled. “Of course you don’t understand. You don’t comprehend even the basic, fundamental points of fighting. A sword in your hands is as useless as talons on a duck. Now pick it up and —”

“Drill Master Cross.”

A moment before, Eva thought any reprieve would have been welcome — until she heard Uthred’s cold voice echo down from the balcony.

“Commander Uthred, sir,” Cross said, “Attention, Recruits!”

Eva and the rest rushed to form a line. Standing stock still, Eva’s stomach clenched. Sigrid descended the stairs behind Uthred, face as cold and lifeless as the stone surrounding them.

The commander crossed the cavern with slow, measured steps, studying each recruit as he passed. Normally full of shouts and the clangor of battle, the Pit fell into complete silence. Eva felt her stomach tighten with every one of Uthred’s footfalls as he approached her. Sigrid, at least, remained at the other end of the line.

When at last he reached her, Uthred stared at Eva like she’d forgotten to bathe in the past month. Eva stared ahead, focusing all her might on a rack of spears against the far wall.

“Well?” Uthred spoke in a low voice, but it still seemed to carry across the whole cavern.

Eva tried to swallow the knot of fear in her throat. The commander hadn’t specifically addressed her, so maybe if she just —

“I am speaking to you, Recruit Evelyn,” Uthred said.

“Y-yes, Commander!” Eva yelled back, voice breaking.

“The question,” Uthred began as he started pacing up and down the line again, eying the younger cadets as he spoke, “is why you are not giving Drill Master Cross your fullest efforts? The question is why do you consistently fail to meet even a minimum of expectations? The question is why you are here at all?”

Eva’s mind raced for an answer. Her heart pounded against her chest. “Commander, I —”

Uthred cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I do not require a verbal answer, girl. Instead, we shall let your practice weapon do the talking. Pick it up.”

Eva stepped out of the line and retrieved her weapon with a shaking hand. When she turned around, she found everyone staring at her. Most, like Wynn, had wide-eyed looks as if they were as terrified as she was. Drill Master Cross, however, wore a nasty smile.

Uthred pointed to the training circle, marked by a ring of red paint on the stone ground. Eva stepped inside and waited, mind racing to guess what her punishment would be. Fear or greatness, girl. Every part of her body screamed at Eva to run. Instead, she resolved, this time would be different.

And then Uthred beckoned to Sigrid. Eva’s insides went cold as the other girl picked up a training sword from the rack and stepped into the circle.

It was the first time Eva had ever seen her bunkmate smile. Under different conditions, it might have been pretty, but Eva had a hard time appreciating Sigrid’s finer features, knowing what was coming next. Cross and the recruits gathered around, and Eva realized her humiliation would have an audience.

“Perhaps,” Uthred said, “your poor efforts are the result of a lack of challenge? I spoke against placing you with the younger recruits, and it seems I was correct. Let’s see how you fare against someone your own age and size. Begin!”

Sigrid sprang forward, and Eva raised her wooden sword just in time to meet the overhead swing. The shock raced through Eva’s entire body, and she nearly lost her grip on her weapon. Showing no mercy, Sigrid advanced toward her with a series of blurring cuts that Eva struggled to deflect, let alone counter. In spite of Eva’s forge muscles, each blow left her hand tingling even more as her grip weakened

Eva soon realized Sigrid was toying with her like a hawk circling a rabbit. The dark-haired girl pushed her all around the training circle, striking just slow enough for Eva to block the cut while preventing her from waging any counterattack.

They continued without pause, Sigrid’s relentless drives pushing Eva right to the edge of the ring so that the onlookers were forced to jump back to avoid being hit. The burning spread from Eva’s hands up into her arms and shoulders until the wooden sword felt heavier than Soot’s forge hammer.

“Halt!”

Eva dropped her sword point at Uthred’s command, hand numbs and lifeless. Sigrid leaned on her sword in a self-assured stance. The dark-haired girl still had that smug smile on her face, and Eva knew she had no hope of getting rid of it.

“Recruit Evelyn, Windsworn have to attack their opponents, too,” Uthred said. Some of the class snickered at that, the ones who were first to team up against her when Cross ordered Eva to fight two or three of them at once. “This time, I want you to go on the offensive. Begin.”

Eva brought her sword up in a guard as fast as she could manage, but Sigrid didn’t attack this time. The other girl hung back at the edge of the training circle, daring Eva to come to her.

“I said attack!” Uthred shouted.

Mouth dry, hands slack, Eva swung a sideways cut at Sigrid. She almost didn’t register the parry as Sigrid’s counterattack struck her across the side of the head and knocked her to the ground.

“Again.”

Eva tried to shake the dizziness from her head. Her vision swam, and the side of her face throbbed where Sigrid’s wooden blade struck her. Somehow, she managed to stand and raise her practice sword.

“Again,” Uthred commanded.

Sigrid remained on the far side of the ring, still smiling. This time, Eva advanced with caution, staying just outside of Sigrid's reach. After a couple of exchanges, Eva feinted a lunge and swung overhead. Sigrid saw through the trick with ease and parried. Before Eva could recover, Sigrid struck her across the arm and jabbed her in the ribs.

Eva folded in half, gasping for air, ribs burning like fire. An instant later, Sigrid struck her across the back, and Eva collapsed on the ground.

“Again,” Uthred said. No one else made a sound.

Using her sword like a cane, Eva rose again, bent over like an old crone. She gritted her teeth and limped forward, one hand clutching injured ribs. She made a halfhearted jab and a few slices. Sigrid blocked them all with ease, striking Eva in return each time.

Lips curled in a silent snarl, Sigrid unleashed a fury of blows all over Eva’s body. Each time, Eva blocked half a second too late. At last, Sigrid swept low and caught Eva behind the knee, knocking her to the ground yet again.

Through the haze of pain, Eva saw the other recruits muttering to one another, and even Cross wore a concerned expression on his face. Still, no one dared speak against the commander. Wynn rushed forward to help her up, but a wave from Uthred sent her out of the circle.

“Is this the best you can do after all these weeks?” Uthred said. “The rider of the red gryphon? Again.”

Tears ran down Eva’s face, as much from frustration and embarrassment as pain. She ground her teeth together and stumbled before getting her feet beneath her on the second attempt. She tried to muster the courage and strength to attack once more, knowing full well what the outcome would be.

Through a half-swollen left eye, Eva saw Sigrid on the opposite side of the circle. The snarl was gone from the dark-haired girl’s face, and she stared at Eva with a blank expression. When Eva took a faltering step forward, Sigrid looked at Uthred.

“Commander, I think —”

“I will let you know when the fight is over,” Uthred said.

Eva took one wobbly step toward Sigrid and then another until they were just a sword’s length apart. The other girl waited for Eva to make her move, eyes narrowed.

“The fight is not over,” Uthred repeated.

Eva summoned the last of her strength into a wild blow. Sigrid sidestepped the attack with ease. The last thing Eva remembered was a blinding flash and searing pain through her head.

Chapter Fifteen

Eva’s eyes flickered open. Groaning, she closed them again, a dull, aching pain coursing through her from head to toe.

“You awake?”

It was Wynn’s voice. Eva ventured a small peek again, and the younger girl’s freckled face filled her vision. Her right eye opened wide, but the left seemed to be swollen shut.

Eva coughed, and her ribs flared with an angry reminder. Her fingertips felt soft, fuzzy blankets, and she realized she was in a bed. When or how she got there, Eva couldn’t even begin to guess.

“Sigrid knocked you out,” Wynn explained. “They brought you to the infirmary a few hours ago. You missed dinner, but I brought you some bread and stew if you want it.

Careful to move as little as possible, Eva shook her head. “Just a drink,” she whispered. Her voice felt coarse and sounded like it came from the other end of a tunnel.

Wynn disappeared from Eva’s line of sight and came back with a small cup. She helped Eva prop herself up on a pillow and held it while Eva took a few sips until she started coughing. The cough sent another wave of pain through her, and Eva winced, lowering herself back down.

“That was a rotten thing,” Wynn said, nose wrinkling in disgust. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“I don't belong here,” Eva said, ignoring her friend. Tears welled in her good eye and splashed on the blankets.

“Don't say that,” Wynn said. “You can’t help it that you just started your training. Uthred and Cross, and Sigrid, they’re all just jealous the egg hatched for you.”

As much as she wanted to believe Wynn, Eva knew in her heart it wasn’t true. Rather than arguing, she looked away, unable to roll over. After a few moments, she heard Wynn rise and felt a gentle hand touch her shoulder, then Eva was alone.

When she heard the door shut, a thin sob burst from Eva’s lips. In the empty room, surrounded by gloom of the dim crystal lamps, she’d never felt more alone. She didn’t belong. She wasn’t, and would never be, Windsworn. With even darker thoughts swirling through her mind, Eva slipped away into a deep slumber.

Eva woke a second time and felt fingertips sliding through her hair. She flinched, still half-asleep, and opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed through a small window across the room from her. She knew she must be dreaming because Tahl’s face was outlined in the glare.

Seeing her awake, he jerked his hand back. “I…uh.” It was the first time Eva had ever seen him unsure. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Thanks,” Eva muttered. Her initial excitement at Tahl’s visit was quelled when she realized he must’ve known what happened, otherwise he wouldn’t have been there. Realizing what she must look like, Eva fought the urge to pull her blankets over her head and hide until Tahl left. She ran a hand through the snarls and tangles in her hair, but Tahl took her wrist in a gentle grip.

“Relax,” he said. “You got pretty beat up.”

Eva felt her face flush. “Does everyone know?” she whispered, dreading the answer.

“No,” Tahl said. Eva’s hopes rose, only to be crushed by his next words. “But they probably will soon; it’s hard to keep a secret in the Gyr. I…I found out last night and told the lord commander what happened.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” Eva said, an unexplainable irritation rising in her. “I may be incapable of defending myself with a sword, but I don’t need someone else to fight my battles for me.”

She felt Tahl pull back in his chair, which only made her angrier. Angry at herself for snapping at him, angry for being awful at her training, and angry at everyone and everything that had placed her in the infirmary bed. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I just… it’s been a long couple of days.”

“The lord commander was furious,” Tahl said. “Rumor has it he yelled at Commander Uthred in front of the whole Council.”

Eva snorted, and the dried blood in her nose itched. “Maybe he’s right. I just needed a beating, then I could be sent on my way.”

Tahl’s hand lighted on top of Eva’s. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Eva asked. “It’s true. And now everyone knows it. Uthred and Sigrid made sure of that.”

“It was a command from Uthred,” Tahl said. Eva looked at him, and it must’ve been sharper than she thought because he pulled back his hand. “I mean, she…I spoke to her, and she felt…bad.”

He trailed off, and Eva wondered if he was making it all up. Anger boiled inside of her.

“Oh good,” she said. “I’m glad she feels bad. That makes everything just fine. She beat me to pieces, but that’s okay because she feels bad.”

“Eva —”

“Go away, Tahl,” Eva said. “Maybe you should go see Sigrid. She feels bad.”

She hated herself for saying it, but she’d reached the point where she didn’t care what anyone in the storming mountain thought of her. Tahl wore a pained expression on his face as he stood and turned toward the infirmary door. Eva saw him pause as if he wanted to say something and almost said something herself, but then he was gone.

Soon after, the healer came to look over Eva’s bandages and see how she was feeling. Eva answered her questions with terse answers and stared out the window, brooding, when the old woman finally left. Morning passed into afternoon. While she slept, someone brought a tray of food. Eva sat up in her bed and picked at it but didn’t feel much like eating or doing anything, for that matter.

Eva wondered why Andor hadn’t come yet. Would he end this nonsense and dismiss her from the Gyr? He owed her that, at least — he’d caused all this. The lord commander yelling at Uthred made her feel about as good as Sigrid feeling bad she’d been his instrument of punishment.

Day passed into evening, and Eva slept off and on. Whatever balm the healer had applied on her bruises seemed to be wearing off. She hurt all over but found some comfort that no one had brought the gryphon chick to her. She told herself he’d probably already been given over to someone else’s care.

The door opened, but it wasn’t the healer. It wasn’t Wynn or Tahl, either.

Celina walked across the room bearing a tray of food. She carried the tray at arm’s length like a wild thing that might bite her. Depositing it on the table, she nodded for Eva to eat.

Eva muttered an insincere thanks and dug in, not caring about her poor manners or Celina watching her every move. She seemed pensive, almost thoughtful. When Eva finished and wiped the last of the food away, the commander studied her without a word.

When at last she spoke, Celina’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “What Uthred did to you was unfair and unjust. But life, if you haven’t realized it yet, is unfair and unjust. You can sit here and feel sorry for yourself, or you can do something about it.”

Eva wanted to tell her that was easy for her to say, that she’d never been humiliated in front of the entire Gyr, but instead she stared at her blankets.

“The lord commander wishes for me to begin training you in private, to help you catch up with the other recruits your age,” Celina said.

“Oh, does he?” Eva said. The anger rose in her again, just as it had with Tahl. “He can’t come here and tell me himself? His second in command ordered me beaten into unconsciousness, and he can’t even come here and say he’s sorry about that? Instead he sent you to give me more beatings, is that it?”

As soon as she’d finished speaking, Eva knew right away she’d gone too far. Celina clenched her jaw, eyes alight, and Eva flinched, expecting the woman to strike her.

Instead, Celina placed a gentle hand on Eva’s shoulder. “I know it’s not easy, Eva,” she said. “Not only are you behind on years of training, but you’re being judged at a higher standard than the rest. Believe it or not, I know what that’s like.”

“Really?” Eva asked. She found it hard to believe Celina had ever been anything but the best.

The commander nodded. “But none of that matters. The only thing you need to ask yourself is if you’re going to give in or prove them wrong.”

As soon as she’d finished, Celina stood. Without replying, Eva watched her walk across the floor. When the Celina reached the door, she paused.

“Your first lesson will begin in two days,” the woman said without turning around. “Or you can let them win. You decide.”

Chapter Sixteen

Eva left the infirmary the next morning, before anyone else came to visit. Her left eye settled into a mottled blend of blue, purple, and brown, but the swelling had started to go down and she could open it. The split in her lip had scabbed over, in addition to the large lump on the side of her head from Sigrid's final blow. Her ribs, the healer informed her, weren’t broken, even if it still hurt to breathe too deep.

Limping down side passages to avoid contact with as many people as possible, Eva made her way back to her quarters, bruises hidden beneath a cloak hood. When she opened the door and saw it was empty, a wave of relief washed over her. Sigrid’s belongings were still in the room, however, so she hurried to gather a fresh uniform and headed down to the pools to clean herself up.

Beyond that, Eva didn’t know what to do. She pondered Celina’s words in the hours after the commander left but felt lost and unsure. Sigrid and Uthred had all but beaten the determination from her, and she felt hollow, empty. At the same time, she couldn’t imagine giving up and going home to face Soot.

Since it was midday, she found herself all alone in the pools — everyone else either in training or on duty. Eva slid into the warm water and dipped her head underneath, enjoying the sensation of weightlessness and utter silence. When she resurfaced, she leaned back against the shelf of rock and blew out a deep breath as the water worked at the bruises and knots in her muscles.

Eva’s hurt, anger, frustration, and embarrassment from the past few days drifted to the ceiling along with the small tendrils of mist rising in the cool, dim cavern. Eva lost track of time in her blissful isolation and didn't care if she made it to any of her classes. She closed her eyes, at peace in the absolute quiet of the cave.

Greatness or fear?

Like a fire flaring to life, the words rose in Eva’s mind, cutting through her tranquility. For a long time, she stared at the shadowed ceiling above, torn between her choices. At long last, Eva pulled herself out of the pool. It wouldn’t be easy, but she knew what she had to do.

When she reached the Roost, Eva spotted her class on the far side of the cavern. As she drew closer, they turned and stared until everyone was ignoring Cassandra’s lecture. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Eva joined Wynn in the back, burning from the dozens of eyes on her.

“Welcome back, dear,” Cassandra said like Eva had been on leave and not beaten to a pulp. She snapped her fingers at the rest of the recruits, drawing some of their attention back to her. “Now, as I was saying, there are several indicators that a gryphon egg is close to hatching…”

The roost master uncovered a table beside her with several gryphon eggs of various colors nestled in baskets. As the rest of the class drew forward to get a better look, Wynn and Eva remained in the back.

“You look like —”

“I know,” Eva said. Her mouth twisted into a half grin, half grimace that made her swollen face ache. “Don’t I look pretty?”

“Sigrid ought to be horse whipped for that,” Wynn whispered, bunching her hands into fists. “First her, then Uthred, then her again!”

“It’s all right,” Eva said. “I’ll heal.”

“I’ll give her something to sneer about,” Wynn continued, ignoring Eva.

The way she said it made Eva think it wasn’t just an empty threat to make her feel better. “Don’t try anything, Wynn,” Eva said. “You’ll end up like me or worse if you pick a fight with Sigrid.”

Wynn looked at her with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “Let it go? Look at you! By thunder, Eva, you’re the biggest coward I know. When are you gonna stop letting people walk all over you?”

The younger girl’s words hit Eva like a punch in the stomach. She opened her mouth, but no words came out and Wynn walked away to join the others, shaking her head.

For the rest of the class, Eva hung back, not caring about the striation patterns in the different colors of eggs or the various temperatures required during different stages of the chicks’ growth inside them. A burning irritation settled inside her, especially whenever one of the recruits risked a glance her way to look at her bruises.

When class ended, she ignored Wynn, who held back to join her, and instead went to check on her gryphon chick. The prospect of looking after the hatchling didn’t bring her any relief, but she’d already had enough of people for the day.

“He's been completely unruly while you’ve been gone,” Cassandra said before excusing herself to check on some of the brood mothers. “Every time I turned around, he’s fighting with the others — he doesn't seem to get along with anyone.”

Alone, Eva made her way through the incubation cave into the smaller antechamber that served as a nursery for the gryphon chicks. Even with the other juvenile gryphons in the cavern, it didn’t take long for Eva to find hers.

The red gryphon hunkered down in the far corner, wings spread over a chunk of meat. Three other chicks had him surrounded, working to steal it from Eva’s chick. A black and a gray tried to circle around behind the red gryphon, but the corner forced them to come from the front.

Growing tired of the standoff, the third, a white hatchling, attacked. The red chick reared up on his hind paws, and his front talons met the white in midair, knocking it to the ground. In the moment their opponent diverted his attention, the black and gray pounced, and the red gryphon disappeared beneath them.

“Get off him!” Eva yelled rushing across the nursery. She backhanded the black and grabbed the gray’s neck, tossing him aside. Seeing his allies defeated, the white chick scampered away. The other hatchlings gathered on the opposite side of the cave, hissing and chirping at the sudden outburst.

Free of his attackers, the red gryphon gave Eva a thankless look and turned his attention to the remaining bits of meat on his bone. Eva knelt down and reached out a hand to brush him across the top of his head. When she did, the chick snapped at her as if she were no different than the other hatchling trying to steal his prize. Eva frowned, irritated by the gryphon’s lack of appreciation for rescuing him. She reached out again, and the chick’s beak sank into the side of her hand.

Screaming in pain and anger, Eva swung her arm, launching the hatchling into the air. He landed in a clump of down and half-grown feathers a few feet away. Before he could recover, Eva dove on the gryphon, pinned him in her arms.

“What's wrong with you?” she yelled as the chick writhed in her arms, his yellow eyes furious. “You chose me! I didn’t ask for this!”

The hatchling continued to struggle in her arms, but Eva held it firm, her shouts melting into frustrated sobs. After a few moments, Eva felt the chick’s struggling cease. She opened her arms and let him go. Rather than returning to his bone, the red gryphon sat down on his haunches and stared at her, head cocked to the side. Neither girl nor gryphon moved.

After a long interlude, Eva stretched out her hand. Ignoring the pain from the hatchling’s bite, she held her palm in front of his beak. The gryphon eyed it with suspicion but didn’t strike. Encouraged, Eva stretched out her fingers and stroked his neck feathers.

Eva held her breath as the chick drew closer and sat down beside her. Eva’s fingers ran down his back, and the gryphon arched his hind end like a cat when she scratched the base of his tail. She thought of the other hatchlings fighting her chick and her bout with Sigrid. The idea came to her that maybe they weren’t different at all — a pair of outcasts driven together by a strange wind. And then it came to her.

“Fury,” she said.

The gryphon looked at her.

“Fury,” Eva repeated. “That’s what I’m going to call you.”

She thought back to all the moments she’d spent with the red gryphon until then and realized how the chick must have felt, being raised with no mother, different from the other hatchlings. If she was being honest with herself, Eva knew she hadn’t been the best caretaker. Sure, she’d made sure the gryphon chick was well fed and looked after, but she’d never shown it any affection or love. She’d treated Fury just like any other part of her Windsworn training: something she went through the motions and did, without putting any heart into it.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Shame filled the empty void left from her outburst. “I’ll do better. But you’re going to have to as well. You and I need to stick together — we’re never going to make it here if we don’t.”

Fury chirped, and Eva stood then picked the gryphon chick up.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go show them what we’re made of.”

Chapter Seventeen

“The problem,” Celina said as Eva laced up her padded leather armor, “is that Cross teaches everyone to fight like a man, to fight like him. You are not a man, and you are not built like Cross. If you don’t want to get yourself killed, you’re going to have to learn to fight within your abilities.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” Eva said. Although she was eager to learn and prove her detractors — Uthred, Cross, and Sigrid — wrong, she didn’t see how acting more like a lady would help her win any swordfights. It’d certainly never helped her while working in the forge.

“It means,” Celina said, stepping forward to poke Eva in the chest with her wooden practice blade, “that you’ve got to be fast. Fast, agile, quick, and, most importantly, without mercy.

“They will doubt you,” Celina continued, rubbing the dull gray bracer on her arm. “They will underestimate you. And if you let them, they will break you. To prove them wrong, you will train harder than any other Windsworn.”

Eva swallowed. She thought she was quick and had a lean strength from swinging a hammer and pumping bellows, but merciless didn’t fit the bill. Then she thought back to the humiliation Sigrid and Uthred subjected her to in the training ring and felt the embers of anger flare to life again. “Okay.”

Celina gave a curt nod. “Good.” She took the wooden practice blade from Eva’s hand and replaced it with a heavy iron variant with blunted edges. Eva tried to raise the sword. It was far heavier than the wooden one, heavier even than the sharpened practice blades they worked the posts with in their exercises. The length of iron felt more like a forge hammer than a balanced weapon.

“How am I supposed to swing this?” Eva asked.

“You will find a way,” Celina said. Without warning, she swung her sword in an overhead cut. Using all of her strength, Eva managed to raise the heavy sword just in time to deflect the blow aimed at her head. Celina took a step back, and Eva lowered her weapon until the tip touched the floor. Her arms were already beginning to burn.

“Never drop your guard,” Celina shouted as she lunged forward. Eva sidestepped the stab and brought the heavy sword up to push the wooden tip of Celina’s weapon away from her ribs. The twisting motion made her wince from her injuries, but this time she kept her weapon at the ready, even if it wavered in her grip.

Celina recovered faster than Eva could parry. She smiled again — the same grin of a fox who’d cornered a rabbit, like she’d given Eva in the Council chambers. “Better.”

The older woman sprang at Eva again, and they traded a series of blows. Each time, Celina moved just slow enough for Eva to block the attack. Sweat poured from her, as much from the anxiety of being struck as from the exertion of the training.

After several intense moments, Eva’s strength gave out. She raised the heavy blunted blade a fraction of a second too late. Celina’s wooden sword came in like a blur and stopped less than a finger’s width from Eva’s neck. She tapped the blade against Eva’s neck, and Eva twitched at the thought of how much it would have hurt.

“Dead.”

Eva swallowed. Her arms felt like straps of metal that’d been cooking in the forge — hot, flimsy, and liable to fold in half.

Celina allowed Eva a handful of breaths and then brought her sword up, gesturing for Eva to do the same. “Again.”

They repeated the process several times. Each time, Eva got slower and slower as the weight of the heavy iron blade set her arms, shoulder and back on fire. Each time, Celina’s answer was the same:

“Again.”

And so it continued until Eva could only manage to lift the point of the weighted weapon a couple of inches off the ground.

“Good,” Celina said. “The first lesson is over. We continue tomorrow, at the same time.”

Eva half dragged the sword over to the rack and hung it up. By now, the pain in her arms had subsided to a throbbing ache, and she couldn’t close her fingers into a fist without her hands shaking. She walked across the small room and reached for the door to leave, until a thought struck her.

“Commander Celina?”

The older woman looked up from wiping the sweat from her face. “Yes?”

“Why did you vote for me to stay?”

For the first time, Eva saw a surprised look cross Celina’s face. “I guess I saw a little bit of myself in you,” she said, regaining her cool demeanor.

Comparing the two of them, Eva couldn’t imagine two people more different. The disbelief must have shown on her face because Celina crossed the room and placed both her hands on Eva’s shoulders.

“When I first came to the Gyr, I would have given anything to go home,” she said. “I was small for my age. I spent two years getting picked on by the other recruits, beaten up in trainings, and I never felt more alone. But it made me tough, and I realized if I kept my head down and worked as hard as I could, I would prove everybody wrong about me.”

“Just like you told me to do,” Eva said.

“Exactly,” Celina said. “And you know what happened?”

Eva shrugged. “You proved everyone wrong?”

Celina nodded. “I became the top of my class. Nobody would step into the training circle with me, not even the boys. I wasn’t necessarily stronger or better, but I learned to be fast and I learned that I wanted it more than the others. When I saw you standing there all alone in the Council room, I wanted you to have the same chance.”

Embarrassed, Eva ducked her head. “Thank you.”

When she looked up, Celina had a small, sad smile on her face. Eva wasn’t certain, but she thought she saw tears in the corners of the hardened woman’s eyes. She turned Eva around and gave her a small push before she could tell for sure. “Go on, off you go.”

The recruits filed out of the Main Hall after dinner, eager for an early evening off. Some sat out on the overlook and watched the sun set while others retreated to the library or commons. Many went straight to bed, eager for the extra sleep. Eva, on the other hand, excused herself from Wynn and took a winding path into the depths of the mountain to see Ivan.

Following Andor’s directions he’d given her after the trial, Eva came around a sharp corner and found a guard standing attention outside of an iron-banded door. The man jerked out of what Eva suspected was a catnap but relaxed when he saw it was just her.

“I’m here to see Ivan,” Eva said. Although Andor said he would let the guard know she would be visiting, Eva still felt nervous, like she was breaking some kind of rule.

The man nodded. “Of course. The lord commander said you might stop by from time to time. I’m afraid I’ll have to lock you inside, Miss. If you need anything, I’ll be right here. He’s pretty quiet, though. Just reads most of the time.”

In Eva’s arms, Fury let out an impatient cry as the man started undoing the series of locks across the door. The security seemed a bit much to Eva, but she supposed it was better than a death sentence. She winced as the gryphon’s talon slipped and nicked her.

Holding back a curse, Eva sat the growing chick on the ground — he still stumbled around and couldn’t keep up with her strides but was now big enough that Eva couldn’t carry him for long without a break. Since their moment in the nursery he still liked to test Eva every chance he got but seemed to have a respect and even fondness for her — as long as she kept him in line.

The door swung open, revealing Ivan sitting cross-legged in a chair on the opposite end of the chamber. The crystal lamps cast a warm glow over his shaved head and pale blue rune marks. When he looked up and recognized Eva, he grinned.

“You came!” the Scrawl boy said, shutting the book in his lap and hopping up to greet her. As Ivan neared them, Fury hissed and leaped at the boy. Luckily, Eva caught the hatchling just before he could sink his beak or talons into Ivan’s robes.

“Fury!” Eva said. “Ivan is a friend.”

The red gryphon didn’t think so. When Eva let him go, the gryphon hopped onto a nearby shelf where he sat and stared at Ivan, yellow eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“Sorry about that,” Eva said. “I don’t know how, but he must remember that you stole him when he was in the egg.”

“Fair enough,” Ivan said, unperturbed by the gryphon’s reaction. His eyes went wide, apparently noticing Eva’s subsiding but still-visible injuries for the first time. “What happened to you?”

“I, uh,” Eva said, looking away to hide her face. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

“That’s okay!” Ivan said. “I’m just glad I have someone to talk to. I mean, I don’t mind reading books and all — they give me as many as I want, but it gets kind of lonely. I’ve almost run out of space to write on, too!”

For the first time, Eva noticed the rune chalk marks in the low light. The letters covered almost every open space of stone in the small room. Fury must have noticed it, too, because he hopped down from the shelf and hid behind Eva’s feet, hissing. The strange letters caused the nape of Eva’s neck to tingle, but Ivan still beamed at her.

“Umm, what are those for, Ivan?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“Oh, just practice,” The boy said as if he’d been doing nothing more than whittling on a stick. “I’ve got to try and keep up on my studies.”

He must have seen the doubtful look on Eva’s face because he took her by the hand and led her to the only chair in the room. When Eva sat down, Fury jumped into her lap, although he kept his eye on Ivan and his body remained tense.

“Don’t worry,” Ivan said. He climbed onto the bed nearby and folded his legs beneath him. “The runes don’t hold any real power unless they’re attached to something living.”

Eva thought of Seppo. What Ivan said didn’t make any sense. Seppo was just an empty shell of metal. Sure, he could move and think for himself and had a personality, but he had no blood, as far as Eva knew, no non-metal substance of any kind other than his eyes.

She said as much, and Ivan’s face crinkled as if he’d been thinking about it for a long time. “I…don’t know,” he said. “Your golem is…something else entirely, but I don’t know what. The runes he has marked on him are a far older alphabet than any I’ve ever seen. There are lots of things the Ancients learned to do with rune magic that we’ve lost, though.”

“Like how to make Wonders?” Eva asked, thinking of her mother’s glowing stone hidden back in her quarters.

Ivan nodded. “Right! We only know how to channel the power of the runes and kenning chants through something living. That’s why we’re all covered in ink!”

The topic of rune magic made Eva uneasy, so she decided to change the conversation. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

Ivan shrugged. “I’m sure you’re busy. But I knew you would come tonight — I saw it. Besides, the Elders tell me it’s very important for a Skrael to develop patience.”

“S-Skrael?” Eva said, testing the strange word on her tongue.

“It’s what we call ourselves in our own tongue,” Ivan said. “When your ancestors came to Altaris, Scrawl was the best they could manage, I guess. We do write a lot, though, so it’s fitting, if not entirely accurate.

Eva nodded, feeling very uneducated and unsure what else to say. “Wait,” she said, realization dawning on her. “What do you mean, you knew I would come tonight?”

Ivan tapped a finger to his forehead. “I dreamed it, of course! The dreams kind of went away for a while after I found you, but now they’ve been coming back. I was worried, thinking they were gone for good, but —”

“Ivan,” Eva began. She shifted in her seat, causing Fury to shoot her an annoyed glance as he settled back in on her lap. “I’m not sure these dreams are a good thing. From what I understood at the trial, they’re not…normal, even for a Scrawl.”

“But that’s the exciting part!” Ivan said like he hadn’t heard her. “I might be the first! And what’s even stranger is that I can work the runes within my dreams! It seems so real!”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Eva said, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. As far as she could tell, these strange dreams were the reason Ivan was imprisoned in the first place and might have something to do with the death of Fury’s mother. She didn’t think Andor would appreciate her discussing the subject with the boy.

“Okay!” Ivan said. Eva couldn’t believe someone who was locked inside a mountain without daylight could be so enthusiastic. “You want to tell me what happened to you?”

Eva’s stomach twisted — it was bad enough that word had spread throughout the Gyr. She’d felt relieved knowing Ivan was probably the only person inside the whole mountain who didn’t know. The Scrawl seemed to like Eva — respect her, even — and she didn’t want to ruin that.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said as if reading her thoughts.

“No, it’s okay.” Eva blew out a long breath and then related the story of her fight with Sigrid.

“I didn’t like her very much,” Ivan said, the runes on his forehead bunching as he frowned. “And I liked that Uthred guy even less. I get a bad feeling whenever he’s around.”

Eva nodded, embarrassed but also relieved she could share the story with someone without being judged. Someone who just cared about who she was, not the implications it meant to her training, or Fury’s raising. Before either of them could say anything else, a knock came at the door.

“Time’s up, Miss,” the guardsman said from outside the room. “We’re making a change of watch. I’m afraid you’ll have to go now.”

“Can’t you stay a few more minutes?” Ivan asked. In that moment, he seemed very much like the boy of twelve summers he was instead of the self-assured Scrawl he tried to be the rest of the time.

“Sorry,” Eva said, standing up and gathering Fury in her arms. “I promise I’ll come visit as much as I can, although I don’t know how much free time I’m going to have with my additional lessons.”

“I’m sure I’ll know before you will when the next time is,” Ivan said, winking. Eva gave a thin smile, still uncomfortable at the idea. “Yeah…we’ll see.”

“Goodbye, Fury,” Ivan said. He reached a hand toward the hatchling, who hissed again and snapped his beak.

“Sorry,” Eva said. “He doesn’t behave very well. Maybe next time he’ll warm up to you.”

“I hope so!” Ivan said. “See you soon, Eva.”

He was still smiling and waving as the door closed.

Chapter Eighteen

Eva opened the door to her quarters and froze. Sigrid sat honing her sword on the edge of her bed. It was the first time Eva had seen her since being released from the infirmary. She didn’t know if Sigrid was sleeping somewhere else or merely coming in and leaving while Eva slept. The dark-haired girl’s sudden appearance caused Eva’s heart to jump into her throat and twisted her stomach into cold, writhing knots.

Sigrid’s head spun toward her. Eva stood rooted to the spot. The girl certainly didn’t look like she felt bad for what happened, and with a real sword in her hand Eva didn’t want to be anywhere near Sigrid. She turned to leave.

“Wait!”

Eva turned, body tense. Sigrid sat the sword down on the bed beside her. She cleared her throat and seemed to find an intense interest in the floor at her feet. “Why don’t you… come in.”

Eva glanced up and down the hallway but saw no one in either direction. Preparing for the worst, she sat on her bed, across from Sigrid. Fury hopped from her arms and down on the floor to his basket-nest at the foot of Eva’s bed.

Sigrid glanced at Eva and winced. The cuts on her face were scabbed over, and her black eye had turned now a nasty brownish green, although most of the swelling was gone. Sigrid cleared her throat.

“I…didn't mean —”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself in the moment,” Eva said. She didn’t know what she wanted from Sigrid, but it sure wasn’t a half-baked apology. Her hands clenched her blankets, and she stared at Sigrid, ready for whatever might come next.

A pained look crossed Sigrid’s face before she sank into her regular scowl. “Uthred commanded me to fight you. I won’t lie; I wanted to beat you in front of everyone, but —”

“But what?”

“Uthred’s the lord commander’s left wing, the third-highest officer in the Windsworn,” Sigrid hissed. “If I’d refused, he’d probably have thrown me out of the Gyr.”

“Oh right,” Eva said, her voice rising. “Almost killing me was a much better choice. What did I ever do to you, anyway?”

Sigrid leaped off her bed and stood in front of Eva, both of her hands tightened into fists. Eva flinched but didn’t move or look away.

“You don’t know anything!” Sigrid yelled. “You’re just a spoiled blacksmith’s daughter who doesn’t want to be here in the first place.”

“Go on,” Eva said. She felt the anger die in her, frozen by cold hate. “Hit me again if it’ll make you feel better.”

Sigrid balled her hands into fists, and Eva braced herself for the blow. Fury leaped on the bed beside Eva and crouched down, hissing. Sigrid’s face spasmed, and she stormed out of their quarters, banging the door shut behind her. Eva did nothing for several moments. Her hammering heart seemed to fill the room. After several deep breaths, she started to calm down and felt drained — more exhausted than she’d ever been working the forge with Soot.

Without bothering to slip out of her uniform, Eva rolled over and pulled the blankets around her. She tossed and turned for almost an hour until, frustrated, she leaned under bed and yanked out her chest of belongings. At the bottom, she found her cloak and unwrapped the Wonder from its fold.

Light illuminated the room, and Eva felt the familiar warm glow fill her. Fury leaped out of his basket onto the foot of Eva’s bed, staring at the stone.

“It’s okay, Fury,” Eva said, beckoning him closer. The juvenile gryphon crept forward and stretched out to touch the stone with the tip of his beak.

Eva smiled, watching the gryphon’s reaction. After a couple of long moments, he seemed to decide the light posed no threat and lay down next to Eva. She stared into the stone’s depths for a long time, watching the swirls of blue, pink, gold, and white until her eyes began to droop. Lying down once more, she clutched the stone tight to her. Just before sleep overtook her, she felt Fury curl up against her as well, his warm little body as reassuring as the stone in the colossal, empty mountain.

“Enough!”

Eva blew a bead of sweat away from a loose strand of hair and stepped back. Although she was soaked with sweat and her muscles burned, she smiled. Over the past several weeks she’d fought with bow, sword, knife, and spear under Celina’s meticulous instruction. Most nights, Eva wolfed down her dinner and crawled into bed, savoring a few hours’ sleep before starting all over again with regular class the next morning. Like an iron ingot hammered against the anvil, Celina shaped her into a warrior with each practice bout.

Now when they fought, a regular blunted sword felt light as a feather in Eva’s hand, slicing the air almost with a mind of its own. She’d yet to come close to beating Celina, but in the past couple of weeks she’d landed a couple of blows. The small victories filled her with pride when she thought back to the helpless girl who’d been humiliated.

“You are a quick learner when your heart is in it,” Celina said in between breaths. “I’ll wager none of Cross’s students would volunteer to put themselves in the training circle against you now!”

Not that any of them knew it, though. Celina conducted all of Eva’s weapons training, and Eva liked it that way. She relished the idea of being the girl everyone underestimated, even as her skill continued to grow.

“Thank you, Commander,” Eva said, placing her weapon on the rack and reaching for a nearby towel to wipe off her face. Celina did the same and handed her a water flask. Eva drank deep, feeling a warm satisfaction similar to the triumph of shaping a piece just right under Soot’s watchful eye in the forge. She hadn’t experienced it much since coming to the Gyr. Even though the Gyr’s smaller birds of prey — hawks and falcons — brought her regular letters from Soot, she still missed home.

After their fight, Sigrid started keeping regular hours in their shared quarters, although she and Eva only spoke to each other when it was absolutely necessary, meaning hardly at all. They’d worked out a sort of silent schedule, so the only time they came across each other was to sleep at night. It didn’t make for the most pleasant conditions, even with Fury around and Wynn’s company throughout the day

Of Tahl, Eva saw very little. Whenever she happened to sight him, a group of admirers had him hemmed in or he was so far down a bustling passageway that Eva had no hope of reaching him. Their exchange in the infirmary bothered Eva, especially because she couldn’t find a chance to apologize. The thought that Tahl cared enough to look in on her after the fight led to more than a few hours tossing and turning. Eva tortured herself wishing she could go back and do something different.

Celina waved to the door when Eva lingered. “Off to class, then.”

“I’ve got time for one more bout,” Eva said, a small, mischievous smile on her face.

Celina laughed. “As much as I hate to admit it, you can recover a lot faster than I, Eva,” she said. “If I’m going to give you a run tomorrow, I’d better save my strength.”

Eva thought there was more behind the statement than Celina wanted to let on. Although she didn’t dare mention anything, the commander’s complexion had taken on a pale hue, and her face looked hollow and stretched against her prominent facial bones. The dark circles beneath Celina’s eyes finished the effect. Even so, she’d yet to lose her usual vigor when Eva trained with her.

Celina unbuckled her padded training leathers, drawing Eva’s eyes to the slate-colored bracer on Celina’s wrist. In all their time training she’d never seen the older woman take it off. Although it didn’t seem to pinch her skin, it fit snug and never moved no matter how intense Celina sparred.

“Commander,” Eva said, “why do you always wear that arm guard?”

Celina held it up into the sunlight streaming through a small window slit. The bracer soaked in the light, giving no reflection. Eva noticed a series of strange runes carved in spiraling lines around it.

“This bracer is very dear to me,” she said. “A trophy won on a journey I took long ago. It is a Wonder, a relic of the Ancients who once dwelled across Altaris.”

Eva’s eyes remained on the bracer while Celina spoke. When she finished, Eva opened her mouth to tell her about the white stone but stopped. Unlike the commander, she kept her stone secret and safe in the chest in her quarters. Even Wynn didn’t know about it and, although Eva trusted Celina, it felt wrong to tell even her. “You found it?” she asked instead.

Celina nodded. “In the far east on a very long and dangerous exploration.”

Eva’s mind filled with scenes of faraway lands and forgotten ruins. No one talked much about the lands east of Rhylance. The Endless Plains met the eastern slopes of the Windridge Mountains, but beyond them she’d learned very little in her lectures with Portridge and visits to the library.

“Why did you go east?” Eva asked. As far as she knew, there weren’t any cities or civilizations in eastern Altaris. The Juarag inhabited the Endless Plains, but the only interaction they made with Rhylance was through raiding parties.

Celina looked surprised. “Surely you know about the Great Eastern Exploration?”

The way the commander said it made Eva feel embarrassed she didn’t, but she shook her head anyway. “Should I?”

“I don’t believe,” Celina said shaking her head. “Soot was one of the members of our party! That’s where Seppo came from. He never told you?”

Eva’s jaw dropped. “Soot?” She had a hard time believing the home-loving blacksmith had ever taken part in any grand adventures. “He never said anything about it. Please, tell me more!”

Celina hesitated, and Eva knew she’d said something wrong. “Another time, my dear,” the commander said “I promise. The tale is too long to tell at the moment. Now, get to your next class!”

Eva protested, but Celina shooed her out the chamber, shutting the door behind her. Walking down the hall at a slow pace, Eva’s mind wandered as much as her feet. On her way to class, Eva resolved to send Soot a letter, or ask him in person if he didn’t respond. For such a large place, the Gyr sure didn’t hold very many answers.

Chapter Nineteen

Eva awoke with a start, chest heaving, sweat running down her face. She'd been having a nightmare — something about a golem made of shadows chasing her through the halls of the Gyr. She took several deep breaths and looked over to see Sigrid asleep in her bed. All was calm and quiet.

As she tried to return to sleep, Eva’s mind drifted to Celina’s revelation about Soot. Contrary to her promise, Celina refused to speak of the expedition the next time they met. Eva’s incessant asking had made her so mad, the commander sent Eva running stairs in an abandoned hallway for almost an hour after their sparring.

After that, Eva didn’t want to risk irritating Celina further. She pored over books in the library and worked up the courage to ask Portridge after class one day, but neither paper nor instructor offered much more.

“It was an exploratory journey to the eastern coast of Altaris almost twenty years ago,” Portridge had told her. “The group encountered hostile Juarag and various other savage tribes in the eastern woodlands. Other than a few trinkets and ruins, nothing of note was discovered.”

Eva forced thoughts of the Eastern Expedition out of her thoughts in an effort to quiet her mind and go back to sleep. Rolling over, she found Fury’s spot at the foot of her bed empty. In recent days, he’d taken to sleeping there more than in his basket. Eva didn’t think of it and stretched out her legs, trying to get comfortable. But a nagging feeling refused to let her rest.

Annoyed and exhausted, she sat up again and leaned forward to look at the basket nest at the foot of her bed. Terror struck her. Fury wasn’t there. A quick inspection of the small room confirmed Eva’s worst fears: somehow, the red gryphon had disappeared.

Eva looked around, unsure what to do. For a moment, she thought about waking Sigrid, but they still weren't speaking to one another. The last thing she wanted was Sigrid to know she’d somehow lost her gryphon in the middle of the night. Instead, Eva dressed quietly and cracked the door of their quarters open. Behind her, Sigrid snorted, sprawled out on her bed. Eva waited until her snores began again then slipped out the door.

In the hallway, Eva ventured several whispered calls. When Fury didn’t answer, she walked several paces in both directions, finding no trace of the gryphon. With no idea what to do, Eva returned to her door, fighting the panic rising inside her.

After several deep breaths, she tried to calm her racing mind. How could Fury have escaped the room, let alone shut the door behind him? A second thought struck her: What if the person who’d killed Devana had returned for her chick?

Eva slipped back into her room — Sigrid continued snoring away — and belted on her small recruit’s knife, the only weapon she had. She turned to leave then paused and returned to her chest. Covering the stone’s light with her cloak, Eva withdrew her Wonder. If there was ever a time she need calm and courage, this was it.

Back outside, Eva hurried to the end of the hallway and then paused when it split. She had no clue where to go next.

“Think, girl,” she told herself. Somehow, someone had managed to steal Fury practically out from underneath Eva — all without the gryphon making a noise. But where had they gone? Eva had no idea.

Minutes ticked away, and Eva grew anxious, standing at the split in the hallway. Time was running out. She had to make a decision, but how?

And then it hit her. “Ivan,” Eva muttered, turning down the tunnel that led to the lower levels. She didn’t place much faith in the Scrawl’s visions, but right now anything was better than standing in the hall.

She'd never been out of her quarters this late before. The lamps cast long, flickering shadows across the walls, making the stone dance. Silence reigned. Each time Eva took a step, the scuff of her boots echoed down the passage, further highlighting her aloneness.

Two wrong turns later, Eva found the hall leading to Ivan's chamber. A couple of turns away, she paused. She had no idea if a guard was posted outside the door around the clock or not. If there was, Eva didn’t have a clue what she would tell him to let her in. She considered turning around when voices drifted down a nearby side passage.

“I’ve got things under control.”

A bolt of fear raced through Eva — it sounded like Uthred. She strained her ears to hear whom he was talking to.

“Hardly think so…keeping an eye on things.” Eva couldn’t be sure, but she thought it was a woman’s voice, possibly Celina. What the two commanders would be doing in the halls at this hour, Eva couldn’t imagine. She held her breath as Uthred started speaking again

“Strange things…Catacombs.”

Eva hesitated then took a couple of steps down the side passage.

“Wonder why you’re skulking around at night,” Eva heard Celina say. “From the boy.”

The boy. They had to be talking about Ivan. Eva ventured another couple of steps forward, heart thudding in her chest.

“Ridiculous,” Uthred said. “You’d best watch yourself, Celina.”

The voices ceased, and a set of footsteps faded in the opposite direction while the other pair — Uthred’s, Eva guessed by the heavy footfalls — grew louder, and closer.

Panicking, Eva ducked down another side hall and ran. The thought of what Uthred might do to her if he caught Eva out of her quarters in the middle of the night spurred her onward. After switching directions several times, she slowed to catch her breath. As soon as she did, Eva heard footsteps again, much closer than before.

Eva shrank against the wall, hugging the shadows. A moment later Uthred appeared at the fork in the tunnel a few dozen paces away. The commander paused for a long moment and stared toward her. Remembering her scouting training, Eva remained motionless even after Uthred looked away and glanced back. After another long pause, Uthred hurried off in the other direction. Eva let out a long sigh before realizing the direction Uthred was headed: to Ivan’s cell.

Creeping forward as fast as she could without making a sound, Eva followed after the Windsworn commander. When she peeked around the corner of the hall leading to Ivan’s cell, however, she found it empty. Eva waited several long moments, and when no one appeared, she hurried forward as fast as she could in silence.

A faint muttering sound, guttural and unintelligible, grew louder as Eva approached. The sound grew louder as she approached the door. No guard stood on duty, and it hung ajar. The deep chanting sound came from within.

Torn between running away and checking on her friend, Eva gritted her teeth and inched forward. A blanket of dread engulfed her, and it took every last bit of willpower she had to bring her shaking hand to the door and push it open.

Ivan sat on his knees in the middle of the chamber, facing the opposite wall. Horrified, Eva realized the chanting came from the Scrawl. Every instinct in Eva’s body screamed at her to run. Mouth dry, she forced herself to take a step forward.

“Ivan?” she whispered, so quiet she barely heard herself over the boy’s chant.

He didn’t answer. Eva took another step.

“Ivan?” This time she spoke louder, but still no response.

Clenching her hands into fists to stop the shaking, Eva walked around the Scrawl’s side. Ivan stared ahead like he couldn’t see or hear her. While his lips moved, forming the awful, strange language, the rest of his body remained completely still.

“Ivan?”

A scream tore from Eva’s lips when she looked into the Scrawl’s face. Ivan stared at the far wall, chanting in a deep voice that wasn’t his own, oblivious to her presence. But worst of all were his eyes. They glowed a deep amber like twin coals smoldering. Terror seized Eva, and she stumbled backward, crashing to the ground.

Eva scrambled to regain her footing, and her Wonder stone swung free from beneath her shirt. Golden light blazed forth, lighting the room like midday. Ivan groaned and slumped on his side, silent. Although her heart pounded in her chest, Eva paused. When the boy rolled over and looked at her, his eyes were normal once again.

“Fury,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Trouble…the Roost. Hurry!”

Leaping to her feet, Eva stuffed the Wonder stone back out of sight, sprinting out of the room. Not bothering what noise she made or whom she came across, Eva ran like she’d never run before, hurtling down the Gyr’s corridors.

A new feeling rose through her terror and panic, tugging at her heart like an invisible string.

Fury.

She couldn’t say how, but she knew the gryphon was in danger now, would have even without Ivan’s warning. The sensation drove her onward, overcoming her agonizing gasps for air and burning legs. Fury was in danger, somehow calling out to her for help. Desperate, reckless strength flooded Eva’s limbs, and she tore up the stairs faster than before.

When Eva reached the Roost at last, the gryphons were astir, screeching and beating their wings in a wild cacophony. Through it all, Eva heard a person shouting from the direction of the landing on the opposite end of the cavern. The same instinct told Eva Fury would be there, too. Stumbling, Eva forced her legs to keep moving. Each breath she drew felt like daggers stabbing at her throat and chest.

Nearing the edge of the landing where the rock dropped off into a cliff, Eva spotted a small figure hopping up and down — Fury. Before Eva could express her relief at finding her gryphon unharmed, another shout rose, from over the edge of the rock.

“Where are you!” Eva shouted as she dropped onto her belly and crawled forward to look over into the darkness.

“Down here — I can’t hold on much longer!”

It was Sigrid. Peering over the ledge, she looked down and saw the dark-haired girl clinging to the side of the rock. A large brown gryphon hovered in the empty space in front of Sigrid, its stressful screams rising into the night. Eva guessed it was Sigrid’s. Eva’s blood ran cold as she stared into the abyss. She rolled over onto her back and shut her eyes to stop the world from spinning.

Taking a deep breath, she looked down again. “It’s Eva!” she shouted. “Hold on; I’ll find something to pull you up with!”

A muffled curse rose up from Sigrid’s position. “Hurry!” the girl yelled in a panicked voice.

Eva ran back to the wall where all the gryphons’ saddles and harnesses were stored. She looked around wildly but saw nothing that was long enough or strong enough to reach all the way down to Sigrid. At last, she spotted a rope that looked like it might be long enough. Rushing back to the ledge, she heard Sigrid yell again.

When she reached the edge, Eva dropped to her belly and tossed the end of the rope over. Sigrid’s eyes, wide and full of fear, met hers. The rope ended a couple of feet short of Sigrid’s reach.

“Too short,” Sigrid said with her usual venom. “Is that the best you could do?”

“That’s all there was!”

She pulled the rope up, mind racing. Maybe she could tie something on the end or —

“I’m slipping!”

The answer came to Eva. There was only one option left.

Since the first day of flight training, she’d been on the back of a gryphon three times, once with Andor to go to the trial, and the second and third when she ran out of excuses and Cassandra practically hauled her onto the back of a training gryphon. Each time had been just as bad as the previous, leaving her light-headed and sick.

“Send your gryphon up!” Eva yelled, hardly believing her own words. “I can’t reach you from up here!”

“Sven, go!”

The gryphon hesitated, reluctant to leave its rider in her precarious position. Sven could do no good down there by himself — if Sigrid fell, she’d likely slide down the wall, too close for the gryphon to grab until she struck something and careened out into the darkness.

“Sven!” Eva shouted. “I can help!”

At last, the brown gryphon tore himself away from his rider. Sven rose with an anxious cry and landed beside her. Without thinking, Eva swung onto his back. Sven wore no saddle, no legs straps, or any other means for Eva to secure herself to the gryphon in the open air. Using the rope, she tied a quick loop around Sven’s neck and twisted the remainder of rope around her left arm. Trying not to think about falling, Eva nudged the gryphon with her heel, and Sven launched off the ledge.

They burst into the open night, and Eva spotted Sigrid below, still clinging to the mountainside. As soon as they were clear of the rock, Sven wheeled around and dropped in as close as he could beneath his rider.

Eva shivered as much from fear as the cool night air. Due to Sven’s size, a large gap remained between them and Sigrid, more than plenty of room for her to fall past them. Eva wondered if Sven could grab Sigrid with his talons but feared the sudden shift in weight would send all three of them plummeting to their deaths.

“Sigrid, you’re going to have to jump,” Eva said, voice cracking. “We can’t get any closer!”

“Storm that!” Sigrid yelled back. “You’ll drop me!”

In spite of her fear, Eva’s temper erupted. “Then fall and die!” she snapped. “I’m not going to get myself killed because you won’t trust me! Jump, damn you!”

Almost as fast as Eva finished speaking, Sigrid kicked off from the cliff. For a moment, Eva saw the girl hurtling toward them. She stretched out as far as she could, the rope wrapped around her left arm anchoring her to Sven.

As Sigrid struck her gryphon’s wing, her hand met Eva’s. Knocked off balance by Sigrid’s landing, Sven careened sideways, and they spun out of control. Screaming as the rope bit deep into her arm, Eva heaved with all her strength, and Sigrid managed to kick her leg up over the gryphon’s back behind Eva.

With the weight of his passengers balanced, Sven spread his wings and pulled out of the free fall. Feeling the gryphon level out, Eva almost collapsed across the back of his neck. They’d done it.

“By the sky, I never want to do that again!” Sigrid yelled in her ear.

Eva nodded and burst into manic, sobbing laughter. Sigrid joined in, and they howled like lunatics until Sven touched down inside the Roost.

Eva half slid, half fell from the gryphon’s back. As soon as she fell to the solid ground, a ball of fur and feathers struck her in the side. Wrapping one arm around Fury, Eva rolled onto her back, elated and exhausted.

Then she heard the footsteps running toward them.

Chapter Twenty

As Eva pulled herself to her feet and reached for her knife, Uthred and Celina appeared out of the darkness. Fury hissed and hunkered down at Eva’s legs. A simultaneous wave of relief and unease gripped Eva, and she was thankful for Celina’s presence after what she’d heard from Uthred in the halls below.

“What happened?” Uthred demanded. His hand gripped his sword hilt, and he looked ready to draw it at the slightest provocation.

“I-I heard screaming, Commander,” Eva said, still shaky from the wild flight. “When I got here, Sigrid was hanging from the rocks. Sven and I were able to rescue her.”

“And how did you hear her screaming if you were in your quarters?” If Uthred seemed impressed by Eva’s feat, he showed no sign.

Eva swallowed hard, Uthred’s dark eyes boring into her as she struggled to answer with at least part of the truth. “I woke up, and Fury was gone,” she said. “I came looking for him, and that’s when I heard her.”

“You lost your gryphon?” Uthred looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be incredulous or furious. “If so, how did the chick get out of your room?”

“I-I don’t know,” Eva said, dropping her head to avoid the commander’s glare. “He was just…gone.”

Before Uthred could grill Eva further, Celina cut in. “Sigrid! What do you have to say about this? What happened?”

“I woke up, and Eva and her gryphon weren’t there,” Sigrid said. “I came looking for them in the Roost. When I got here, something had upset the gryphons. I couldn’t see the roost master anywhere, and then I spotted Fury by the cliffs. When I ran to him, a blast of wind hit me, and I fell over the edge.”

Sigrid paused and looked at Eva, almost unbelieving. “If Eva hadn’t come, I’d probably be dead.”

Celina and Uthred looked at one another.

“I’ll take a look around,” Uthred said, drawing his sword.

Celina nodded. “Eva, Sigrid, come with me. The lord commander must hear of this at once.”

Eva gathered Fury in her arms. The chick trembled in her arms, and she realized how much worse the night could have ended. She glanced at Sigrid, but the other girl looked straight ahead as they walked.

A group of riders and recruits was gathering at the entrance of the Roost. Celina sent a pair of older riders who’d had enough sense to arm themselves to go assist Uthred and ordered the rest away.

“Everyone, back to your quarters!” Celina snapped. “The lord commander will address everyone in the Main Hall in the morning. Now go!” The Gyr’s second-in-command left no room for argument. Looking over the shoulders and muttering among themselves, the group filed out.

“Where in the sky is Cassandra?” Eva heard Celina mutter.

While the four of them continued to Andor’s quarters, Eva tried to wrap her mind around the events of the past few hours. There hadn’t been an attack since she’d arrived at the Gyr. How had Fury gotten out of their quarters? No one could have taken him against his will — the gryphon’s noise would’ve woken them.

Part of Eva wondered if Sigrid wasn’t telling the whole truth, but she found it hard to believe the girl was involved. Who would throw themselves off a cliff just to look innocent? Without a doubt, she’d been asleep when Eva left — no one could fake snoring like that.

None of it made sense, and Eva felt even more dazed trying to sort it all out. When they arrived at the lord commander’s door Celina raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Andor, cinching on his sword belt with one hand.

“Celina!” he said, surprised. When the lord commander saw Eva and Sigrid, he frowned. “What’s going on? I just had an officer tell me there was some sort of attack in the Roost.”

“We can shed some light on the rumors, Lord Commander,” Celina said, gesturing to the two girls. “Sigrid was attacked, but Eva arrived in time to prevent anything worse happening. Uthred and I happened to hear the gryphons raising an alarm — he’s looking for any sign of the attackers now. I thought it best to bring the girls to you immediately.”

Eva looked at Celina, waiting for her to mention something about catching Uthred in the hallway, but the woman was finished. Andor beckoned Eva and Sigrid inside. “I would like to speak to these two in private. Please remain outside my door to escort them back to their quarters when I am finished. I don’t want anyone roaming the halls alone.”

Eva and Sigrid followed the lord commander into his chambers, and Eva flinched as the door shut behind them. Andor motioned to the high-backed chairs around his parchment-strewn table and sat down across from them. His eyes passed over both of them.

“Tell me what happened.”

As Eva then Sigrid related their portion of the night’s events, Andor’s face remained stern but otherwise unchanging. Once again, Eva omitted the portion of her story involving Celina, Uthred, and Ivan. Eva knew Ivan couldn’t have been responsible for the attack. He would have had to pass by Eva — invisible and faster than a person could run — somewhere in the passageways to get to Sigrid first. She also knew any mention of the Scrawl would likely condemn him regardless of any testimony she could make for his innocence.

“I will ask this only once,” Andor said when they’d concluded. “I am aware of the recent… happening between you. If this was in any way a continuation on that from either of you, this is your last chance to tell me. Anything that comes to light later will not go well.”

Eva and Sigrid looked at each other, bewildered. “No, Lord Commander,” they both said.

“Eva saved my life,” Sigrid said. Eva’s head whipped sideways, stunned by the admission. Sigrid glanced at her and continued with some reluctance. “I…I’d probably be smashed to pieces at the bottom of the mountain if it wasn’t for her.”

Andor nodded. “If nothing else, perhaps a camaraderie will come out of this night.”

Embarrassed, Eva focused on the piles of reports and maps on the table. “It’s not a big deal,” she muttered. “Sigrid would have done the same thing if it were the other way around.” At least, she hoped Sigrid wouldn’t have let her fall to a gruesome death.

“Your actions tonight were worthy of the Windsworn,” Andor said. Eva could tell by his voice, it was the biggest compliment he could’ve given her. The lord commander opened his mouth but then seemed to think of something else. “Sigrid, why did you look for Eva in the Roost first?”

“When I left the barracks, I saw someone headed in that direction,” Sigrid said. “They were wearing a cloak and looked to be about Eva’s size. I followed them, but when they entered the Roost, they were gone. That’s when I saw Fury.”

Andor stroked his short beard and stared past them at the wall. “And Eva, that wasn’t you? Why didn’t you check the nursery in the Roost first?”

Eva opened her mouth, desperately trying to come up with a believable story. “No,” she said, buying some time. “It wasn’t me. I thought there might be a chance that if Fury somehow got out on his own he might head to the kitchens. He eats all the time lately.”

She knew how unconvincing she sounded, but if Andor suspected anything, he didn’t show it. Sigrid, on the other hand, stared at her like she’d just told them gryphons could fly and they were supposed to be surprised.

“Sigrid, I would like to talk to Eva alone for a moment,” Andor said. “Please wait outside with Commander Celina; we won’t be long.”

Eva felt her stomach clench and her heart race as Sigrid rose, saluted, and left. Andor waited for the door to close before speaking again.

“Eva, I wanted to ask you in private if there was anything you wanted to add?” The lord commander studied Eva with his deep blue eyes. She fidgeted with her hands, and she stared at Fury curled up by the embers in the fireplace.

“Nothing, sir,” Eva said “I’m sorry that Fury got out of our room. I don’t know how it could’ve happened. I didn’t hear anything, and —”

“Come now, Eva,” Andor said. For a moment, Eva was afraid he knew everything and was going to call her bluff. “We both know Fury didn’t escape on his own. And for him to be taken without a sound…”

The lord commander broke off and walked to the fireplace. He knelt down and stroked the feathers on top of Fury’s head, staring at the red gryphon.

“The name’s a little unconventional, but it fits,” Andor said. Finished petting the gryphon chick, he stood and looked at Eva. “There is something at work here that I don’t understand. You must be extra careful, Eva. Someone wants your gryphon. Until we find out why or who they are, I don’t want you going anywhere without at least one other person with you at all times. Do you understand —”

An urgent knock cut him off.

“Lord Commander, I’m sorry to interrupt.” It was Celina’s voice. The Gyr’s second in command sounded almost frantic. “It’s Roost Master Cassandra. She was attacked as well.”

Andor rushed to the door and pulled it open. The dark rings under Celina’s eyes looked even more pronounced. Behind her, Sigrid stared past them, stunned.

“How bad is she?” Andor asked.

“Uthred believes she will recover in time,” Celina said. “Although she took quite the blow to the head. She awakened long enough to say someone struck her from behind, although she has no idea who her attacker was.”

Eva’s stomach sickened. She knew she needed to tell the lord commander about Uthred and Ivan but couldn’t work up the nerve now that she’d already lied to him, especially in front of Celina and Sigrid.

“Please escort Eva and Sigrid back to their quarters,” Andor said to Celina. “Have a guard posted outside of their room until morning. I must go speak with Uthred.”

Celina said nothing as they walked back to the barracks. To Eva, every flickering shadow looked like an attacker waiting to ambush them. By the time they made it to their quarters, her heart pounded almost as fast as it had earlier when she’d almost been caught by Uthred and found Ivan entranced.

“I will wait here until the guard arrives,” Celina said. “Get some rest; you’ve both had a trying night.”

Reassured by Celina’s presence, Eva thanked the commander with Sigrid before closing the door behind them. Eva wished it had a lock and realized the irony of wanting to be trapped inside a room with Sigrid. She convinced herself no one would dare attack tonight, not with the entire mountain roused from sleep and Celina standing watch.

Alone together for the first time since the cliff, Eva and Sigrid slipped into bed in silence. An awkward silence engulfed the room. Since the fight in the training circle they’d established a cold but working relationship. Now, Eva didn’t know what to make of it. She knew, however, things would never be the same as they had been when both girls had gone to bed the previous evening.

Like nothing had happened, Fury lay down beside Eva and fell asleep at once. Wide awake, Eva stared at the stone ceiling, going over every detail of the night. Even with his head start on her, she didn’t see how Uthred could have made it to the Roost and back out before Eva got there. He’d clearly met up with Celina at some point that didn’t arouse her suspicion. How much did Andor know about Uthred’s behavior? Celina didn’t seem like the kind to keep that from her commander. As Eva continued to work at the complex knot of what-ifs, Sigrid broke the silence.

“Eva? You awake?”

It took several moments for Eva to decide not to pretend to be asleep. “Yeah.”

“I…” Sigrid began, followed by a long pause. She cleared her throat. “I was wrong about you. I’m sorry.”

Eva blinked and felt tears running down the corner of her face.

“You saved my life tonight,” Sigrid continued, her own voice choking up. “I know I probably can’t ever make up for all the things —”

“You’re welcome,” Eva said. She’d heard all that mattered. A smile spread across her face, and despite the night’s harrowing events, Eva felt a weight lifted from her chest. She took a deep, freeing breath. “Goodnight, Sigrid.”

Chapter Twenty-One

The following days passed by slowly, mired in fear and unease that engulfed the entire mountain. Although the Gyr hadn’t entirely felt like home to Eva, she’d grown to enjoy the constant echoes of chatter and laughter resounding through the halls. In the days after the attack, a heavy, oppressive silence settled in its place. The youngest recruits traveled everywhere in small groups, and the older Windsworn walked armed through the halls.

Each morning, Eva awoke wondering if the mysterious assailant still stalked the Gyr’s passages at night, if she would go to breakfast and hear news of another victim. The worst were the nights when fear plagued her and she stared at the door of her and Sigrid’s quarters, expecting it to creak open at any moment. It made it hard to concentrate in class, and even Celina acted troubled during their bouts.

Whatever malady affected her seemed to be growing worse. Her face took on the hue of dirty dishwater, and her black hair hung lank around it. Even so, her tutor still moved with the grace and strength of a panther when they fought, and Eva had yet to best her.

Cassandra soon returned to her duties as the roost master, none the worse for wear aside from the shrinking lump on back of her head. In between lecturing them on gryphon breeding cycles and flight patterns, however, she’d often stop all of a sudden and say something like: “Attacked in my own Roost; to think of it!”

Eva wasn’t sure if it was Andor’s orders or Cassandra’s wish, but at least two guards in full kit always patrolled the Roost night and day. Seeing the armed men and women only worsened the effect, a constant reminder of the ongoing nature inside the Gyr. More than once, Eva caught sight of a guard or two trailing her as well, which only made her more anxious.

The one positive from the ordeal was Sigrid. Whatever ill will and bad blood had stood between them evaporated after the night in the Roost. Drawn together by a near-miss with death, the experience led to an unexpected yet growing friendship. With Wynn added in, they made a strange trio of misfits.

When news of the attack spread the following morning, Eva thought for certain Tahl would have come to ask if she was okay. After a week went by and she saw no sign of the boy, she sank into a slump and told herself she was a fool for thinking he’d ever cared about her. The depressing mood lasted until Sigrid mentioned offhand at dinner one night that Tahl had been with a Wing on a scouting mission. Eva couldn’t help but renew her hope, waiting for him to return.

Since the incident, visiting Ivan seemed out of the question. Eva heard nothing about the Scrawl afterward and chose to take it as sign that he hadn’t been implicated. When nothing more happened, she convinced herself more and more she’d done the right thing by not telling Andor.

Caught up with training, studies, and recent events, Eva forgot all about her birthday until a note from Soot arrived via falcon in the barracks. She hadn’t mentioned the attack, but it seemed word had spread into the capital. Between the two, Eva’s foster father demanded she come visit.

“I can take you on Sven,” Sigrid offered when Eva told her about the letter. “We’ll just have to get leave.”

Eva’s heart sank. Given the current state of caution in the Gyr, she doubted Andor would let her out of the mountain when he didn’t even want her walking around alone. To her surprise, however, the lord commander agreed at once when Eva and Sigrid asked.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he said. “Besides, if I didn’t let you go, Soot would knock down the mountain on all of us! Just one condition.”

“Yes?” Eva asked.

Andor nodded to Fury. “Leave him here with Cassandra. Given his knack for getting into trouble, I don’t want Fury loose in the city.”

Eva laughed and agreed at once. When she left Fury with the roost master, however, she felt an unexpected pang of loneliness as Sven rose into the air and Fury called after her on the ground below.

“You’re like a mother hen,” Sigrid said over her shoulder. “He’ll be fine — don’t let it ruin your afternoon!”

Sven soared out of the cavern into open sky, and missing Fury soon became the least of Eva’s worries. Since she’d rescued Sigrid, flying didn’t terrify her, but a strong unease still filled her. As the mountain shrank behind them and the city grew below, Eva risked a glance down. The sight of the white buildings hundreds of feet below didn’t send her head spinning…as long as she didn’t look for too long.

Instead of having Sigrid take her directly to Soot’s forge, Eva directed the girl to set her down outside the gate nearest to the Craftsman District.

“I grew up in the city,” she said when Sigrid asked why. “I want to walk down a street that doesn’t have a stone ceiling over me and enjoy the open air!”

Sigrid’s nose wrinkled as they descended. “You mean that stench? The capital stinks!”

Eva laughed as a whiff from the tanning vats caught them on the breeze. She took a deep breath, inhaling the myriad of smells that defined her childhood. When Sven landed, Eva couldn’t wait to walk down the old, familiar streets.

“I’ll see you at the forge in a couple of hours!” she shouted to Sigrid as they took back off again.

Walking down the streets, Eva waved at familiar faces but didn’t stop to chat. She enjoyed the familiar sights and sounds of the Craftsman District but hurried to Soot’s forge, eager to spend as much time with Seppo and the old smith as possible. When her home drew in sight, however, it wasn’t the sight of her foster father that greeted her.

A half-dozen palace guards stood around a carriage in the yard, two more guarding the door. When Eva approached, the entrance to her house, they stepped in front of her.

“Sorry, Miss, no one’s allowed inside,” one said.

“What do you mean no one’s allowed inside?” Eva asked “Is something wrong? This is my home!”

The guard shook his head. “Nothing wrong, Miss. The king has asked for a private conversation with Master Wayland.”

Eva gaped at the man. “The…king?”

Before the guard could respond, the door opened and Adelar himself stepped out. Bewildered, Eva sank down on one knee and dropped her head the ground. She felt a hand touch her shoulder. “There’s no need for that here,” the king said.

“I apologize, Sire,” Eva said, the words running together. “I came to visit Soot on leave for the afternoon. I didn’t know —”

Adelar cut her off with a wave. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I…” he stared at Eva. After several moments, she dropped her gaze to the ground, uncomfortable. “I hear your studies are going well?”

“Yes,” Eva said, cringing at the thought of what the king might have heard about her tenure with the Windsworn so far. “Very well, Sire.”

“Good.”

Neither of them spoke. After another long pause, Adelar cleared his throat. “I was just on my way. Enjoy your visit with your…with Soot.”

Eva bowed as the king passed, pausing at the door to watch his retinue fall in behind him on the way to the carriage.

“That’s something you don’t see every day, huh?”

Spinning around at the sound of Soot’s voice, Eva rushed through the doorway into the old smith’s arms. “Soot!”

Eva’s foster father gave a rare laugh as he patted her on the back, hard enough to jar Eva’s vision. “By the wind, it’s good to see you, girl!” He held her back at arm’s length, examining Eva up and down. She didn’t know if Andor had mentioned her sparring match with Sigrid, but by now the bruises and cuts were gone. “You sure look lean and mean.”

“What was the king doing here, Soot?” Eva asked as the carriage pulled out into the street and the guard fell in behind on their horses.

The old smith looked up and watch the royal succession leave. His brows furrowed for a moment before he noticed Eva watching. “Oh that? Just a visit — let’s go find Seppo. We’ve got something to show you.”

Eva opened her mouth to object, but Soot led her by the arm out to the forge. She could hear Seppo pounding away at the anvil. A wave of longing overcame her and — for a moment, at least — Eva forgot all about the king’s visit, taken back by the sound of hammer striking hot metal.

“Hey, you rust bucket!” Soot shouted over the din. “We’ve got a visitor!”

Seppo’s helmeted head turned their direction, and his round blue eyes seemed to glow bright when he spotted Eva beside Soot. Tossing his hammer aside, the golem bounded toward them, crossing the distance in less than three steps and swept Eva off her feet.

“Put me down, you big hunk of iron!” Eva shouted, laughing. After a few more tosses, Seppo relented and studied her much as Soot had just done, gauntleted hands on his hips.

“It is good to see you, Mistress Evelyn,” he said, metallic voice ringing.

“It’s good to see you, too, Seppo,” Eva said, still smiling. “What do you have to show me?”

“Wait there,” Soot said. He entered the forge and came back with a long wooden box closed with a silver clasp. It was about as long as Eva’s arm and just wider than her hand.

“Happy birthday,” Soot said, holding it out to her. “I was going to see if Andor would let you go for a day sometime to give it to you, but it looks like you beat me to it.”

Eva swallowed a lump in her throat and looked down at the box to blink away a tear. Loosening the clasp, she lifted the lid and gasped.

It was a sword, the most beautiful weapon Eva had ever seen. The polished blade rippled like water in the sunlight, its hilt inlaid with silver and fashioned into a pair of wings. A talon clutching a round blue stone sat in the end of the pommel. Her hands fit just right on the grip as she lifted it out of the case.

It felt like holding a breeze — true master’s work. When she held the sword up to the light, Eva saw a small letter etched into the base of the blade. A chill ran through her as she recognized Soot’s maker’s rune.

“I hope you never have to use it,” Soot said, “but if you do, it will serve you well.”

“It’s beautiful,” Eva said in a hushed voice, eyes locked on the waves of metal in the blade, the product of countless folds.

“Aye, it’s not bad work,” Soot said. Eva caught the pride in his voice.

Eva lowered the blade and looked at the smith, confused. “But you don’t make weapons; you’ve told me that a hundred times!”

Which was true. Eva couldn’t count the number of men and women who’d approached Soot over the years, requesting a sword, knife, or some other weapon. Each time, her foster father told them no, regardless of the price they offered. In most cases, it was more than they could make in a year forging scythe blades, plows, and other farm implements.

“We create things that help life grow, not take it away,” Soot told Eva every time she grew frustrated watching another lucrative client walk away. Over the years she’d come to understand a little better what the old smith meant, but Eva suspected there were deeper reasons involved that Soot refused to bring to light.

“It’s the best thing Seppo and I could do to protect you,” Soot said as Eva laid the sword back inside the box, noticing the scabbard and belt inside as well.

“It might be a sword, but it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Eva said, embracing Soot and Seppo again. She meant every word, although the thought of using the weapon in battle terrified her.

They returned to the house, and Soot seated Eva at the table, grilling her on everything that’d happened since she’d left for the Gyr. Again, Eva omitted the part about her fight with Sigrid. She also didn’t tell Soot about her encounter with Ivan the night of the attacks, although the smith knew most of that from Andor, it seemed.

“Be careful, Eva,” Soot said, brow furrowing. “Andor’s right — there’s something going on up there, and I don’t like it one bit.”

Eva saw her opportunity to the steer the conversation in her favor and seized it. “Speaking of things going on,” she said, “Why did the king just happen to come pay you a visit?”

Soot cleared his throat and found a sudden interest in the roof. “I told you, just a visit. He…he wanted me to make him a new helmet.”

“You don’t make arms or armor for anyone,” Eva said, nodding to her sword, sitting on the table. “I thought this was an exception?”

“Well, you don’t just tell the king no, do you?” Soot said, looking everywhere but where Eva sat.

Eva fought her rising frustration, knowing already Soot wouldn’t tell her anything. Instead, she decided to try another tactic. “I heard you took part in the Great Eastern Expedition; how come you never told me that?”

Beads of sweat gathered on the old smith’s forehead, but from anxiety or anger, Eva couldn’t tell. “Who told you that?” he asked.

“Oh, a little bird,” Eva responded, glancing away.

“I highly doubt a little bird told her,” Seppo chimed in from the window where he’d been listening. “At least, I’ve never met one that talks.”

Soot shot a sideways look of disgust at the golem. “It’s a figure of speech.”

“Answer the question!” Eva said.

Soot folded his arms, frowning. “We went exploring to the east, nearly died a dozen times, and came back with nothing to show for it.”

“Excuse me!” Seppo said, indignant. “What do you mean, nothing to show for it? You found me!”

Soot rolled his eyes. “And nothing to show for it but a walking, talking tin bucket that never shuts up.”

“Are you talking about me again?”

Eva shot Seppo an exasperated look of her own. “If that’s all there is to tell, how come you never mentioned it to me before?”

“Because I left that life behind,” Soot said. “Trust me, Eva, it’s better not to get involved in grand journeys and honorable causes. People get hurt, and the next thing you know you’re raising their child, and —”

Soot’s eyes went wide, realizing what he’d said, and silence engulfed the room.

“What,” Eva said, trying to control her breathing, “does that mean?”

“You shouldn’t have said that, Soot,” Seppo said from the window. “You should not have said that.”

“What do my parents have to do with the Great Eastern Exploration?” Eva continued. “You told me they died when Juarag raiders attacked their homestead.”

Soot stared at her for a long time. “I…I’m not the one who can answer that, Eva.”

Eva opened her mouth but had no idea what to say. Nothing made sense. Before she could form any kind of response, a knock came at the door. and Sigrid poked her head in. “Am I interrupting something?”

Furious, hurt, and confused, Eva stood and turned for the door. “No,” she said. “I was ready to leave, anyway.”

“Eva, wait,” Soot said, walking toward her.

Eva shook her head. “Don’t. If you cared about me, you’d tell me the truth. What is going on?”

Soot swallowed. “It’s not…I can’t.”

“Goodbye, Soot,” Eva said. Before the smith could say anything else, she pushed past Sigrid and hurried toward Sven.

“Eva, wait!”

Tears falling, Eva refused to turn around. She waited at Sven’s side until Sigrid approached, holding her sword in its scabbard.

“He wanted me to bring this,” Sigrid said in a quiet voice.

“Leave it here,” Eva said.

“Eva —”

“I said leave it here!”

Ignoring her, Sigrid slid the weapon through the straps on the side of her saddle and secured it into place before climbing onto Sven’s back. She stretched out her hand for Eva, who almost ran away. Instead, she let Sigrid pull her, numb and empty, into the saddle.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Summer faded into fall. On the mountainside, the scattered scrub oak trees painted the dull gray rock they clung to with vibrant tones of yellow, orange, and crimson. Below the Gyr, the white marble of Gryfonesse stood like an island surrounded by seas of golden fields and painted woodland.

Although the days were warm, mornings in the Roost proved frigid. Oftentimes, a layer of frost covered the cavern rim. Drill Master Cross, Portridge, Cassandra, and the rest drilled and lectured them at a punishing pace. Almost before Eva realized, the first hints of winter found their way in the Gyr. In no time at all, the fledgling recruits would begin their trials.

Since her visit with Soot, Eva had done everything to learn all she could about the Great Eastern Exploration. As before, though, her efforts produced few results. None of the books in the library had any account of the event, and when she asked Instructor Portridge or Celina about it, she got the same answer as before. That was when she even saw Celina. Her sickness growing, the commander had canceled a number of their trainings, and Eva worried if the woman would ever recover.

She’d also thought about asking Andor, but the lord commander couldn’t ever be reached when Eva tried. Whether he was avoiding her or just swamped as stories of even more Juarag raids came from the frontier, Eva didn’t know. Regardless, weeks passed, leaving Eva no closer to uncovering the answers she sought.

After yet another failed attempt to gain an audience with Andor, Eva made her way down back to the barracks, choosing to skip the larger, busier passages. Word had spread — Eva guessed thanks to Wynn’s gossiping among the new recruits — about Eva’s role in saving Sigrid during the night of the attacks. That combined with the rumors of her private training with Celina and the anomaly of Fury made it hard to get anywhere inside the Gyr without a dozen different people stopping to make small talk.

“Eva?”

Eva groaned as a voiced called out behind her. But when she turned around to see who it was, she squeaked in surprise. It was Tahl. He jogged to catch up, smiling. Although Eva hadn’t seen him since the attacks in the Roost, the familiar weightless, spinning sensation filled her.

“Got someone meeting you down an empty side tunnel?” It sounded like Tahl was joking, but Eva fancied she heard a touch of jealousy in his voice. Or had she imagined it?

She told herself not to be an idiot. The golden boy of the Gyr didn’t worry about who an awkward girl like Eva was seeing when he could have any girl in the mountain.

“Ha.” Eva gave a weak laugh. “No…just wanted some quiet.”

Tahl nodded and stepped closer. Eva’s mouth went dry as a desert “I’m glad you’re doing okay. I’ve been worried.”

Eva’s felt her stomach leap. Worried? About what? Worried about her?

“You…were?” Somehow, he’d gotten even closer. She could smell him — well-oiled leather and fresh pine. Eva wondered what he bathed with to make him smell like that, and then her brain stopped wondering about anything except his face. He had the stubble of a beard showing, and his lips…

“Very much,” Tahl said in a low voice. He was so close Fury hissed and started pecking at his boots, but neither he nor Eva noticed.

“Me, too,” Eva said. It sounded like her voice was coming from another person. She was worried? That didn’t make any sense.

Tahl gave a short laugh. “I just said that,” he murmured, leaning forward. Eva felt her throat tighten and thought she might collapse.

She could feel Tahl’s breath on her face and closed her eyes. Eva’s heart pounded so hard she knew he had to hear it. She shivered a little thinking about —

“There you are!”

Even after the beating Sigrid gave her, Eva still never had the urge to kill someone before. When Wynn’s voice burst down the passageway, however, she knew what it must feel like. She and Tahl broke apart, and Eva wondered if there’d even been a finger’s width between their lips before the interruption.

Wynn stomped down the hall, oblivious to what she’d just done. Eva and Tahl glanced around the passageway, keen to look at anything but one another. Eva felt the butterflies die in her stomach, as sure as if they’d all been swatted out of the air by a broom.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” Wynn said. When she recognized Tahl, she nodded her head. “Oh hey. Anyway, we’ve got to go! We’ve got a scouting training in less than an hour, and sky take it if I’m going to sit through that on an empty stomach.”

The young girl grabbed Eva’s hand and pulled her in the other direction. With a final hiss at Tahl, Fury turned and followed the girls. As Wynn dragged her away, Eva twisted to look over her shoulder at Tahl. He rolled his eyes, and Eva bit back a laugh.

“See you soon!” he yelled after them.

When they reached the edge of the Main Hall, Eva freed herself from Wynn and made up an excuse about needing something out of her quarters before training. Wynn looked at her like she was mad for skipping out on a meal, but the younger girl’s own hunger allowed Eva to slip away. It was a long shot, but one last place remained where she might find answers. But first, she needed some honey.

Fortunately, the cooks were more than accommodating. Jar in hand, Eva wound her way upward, trying to remember the path she’d taken to reach Lord Vyr. The passageways soon grew less packed with people, then empty. After a couple of wrong turns and several backtracks, Eva thought she recognized some familiar features. The cold, stale air and dust-covered lanterns confirmed her direction.

Fury followed close behind. He’d grown to the size of a hound and almost knocked Eva over every time he tried to leap into her arms for a ride. The gryphon’s fuzzy red down was long gone as well, replaced by copper- and crimson-colored feathers that shone like burnished metal. Fury’s front talons had hardened into razor-sharp points, but he still bumbled around with teenage clumsiness. Several of Eva’s uniforms had been shredded as a result.

At the end of the long hall leading to Vyr’s chamber, Fury stopped. Eva looked back and beckoned, but the gryphon shook his head and cowered down in an unusual show of timidness. Fury’s hesitation gave Eva pause as well. She recalled the blind gryphon and the old man’s unsettling behavior and looked back in the direction they’d came.

“I know you’re there, girl,” a voice echoed down the hall. “Might as well come here.”

Eva glanced at Fury, who let out a small cry but followed behind her into the chamber. She held back at the entrance when she spotted the great blind gryphon sitting on his haunches across the cavern from her.

“Well, don’t just stand there!” Lord Vyr said in an impatient tone. “Basil won’t bother you now that he’s got your scent.”

Unconvinced, Eva edged along the rock wall toward Vyr. The old man sat down a large black tome he’d evidently been reading and looked at her, brows raised. “Did you bring the honey?”

Eva nodded and held the jar out. The old man’s eyes lit up, and he took it from her with both hands. Prying the lid off, he dipped a withered hand straight into the pot and licked the golden goo from his fingers as it ran down his hand into his already matted beard. Eva did her best to hide her disgust.

“Yes?” Lord Vyr said, smacking his lips.

“Yes what?” Eva asked, perplexed.

Lord Vyr waved his honeyed hand, flinging sticky everywhere. “Why are you here, that’s what!” he snapped. “I don’t have all day, girl, spit it out!”

Eva looked around, wondering what else the old man could possibly have to do. She didn’t think it would be very smart to say that, though. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Perhaps I have an answer,” Lord Vyr said. “This is good honey.”

Eva considered her next words carefully and decided to build up to her most pressing question. “What’s in the Catacombs?”

Lord Vyr sat down his honeypot, and Eva wondered if she’d already gone too far. “The Gyr is an ancient fortress, and even the lord commander does not know all of its secrets,” he said. “Who can say what lurks in the dark below, what remnants of the Ancients dwell forgotten in the shadow?”

“But you know,” Eva pressed.

Lord Vyr shook his head. “Even I am not that old, child. But I have been around a very long time, and nothing like these attacks has ever happened in the mountain. There is something…stirring. I feel it in my bones.”

Eva remained silent, soaking in the old man’s words. The light seemed to fade in the cavern, and an ominous feeling permeated the stale air. Eva wondered if she should tell Lord Vyr about Ivan but once again held back.

Who knew how often the old man and Andor spoke? They had to communicate on some level — what if Lord Vyr told Andor about the Scrawl? With no other leads, she knew Ivan would be the prime suspect, worse still, might be held responsible. The chance of the boy receiving a second trial didn’t seem likely.

“Stay away from the Catacombs,” Lord Vyr said, staring her down with his rheumy eyes. “And keep close watch on the red gryphon.”

Across the room, Basil hissed as if agreeing with his rider. For a moment, Eva almost gave in to the urge pulling at her to leave, but desperation gave her courage. “I have one more question,” she said.

Lord Vyr picked up his jar again. “Bah! You ask too many questions for a girl so young, but the company is not unappreciated.” He smiled at her with his yellowed teeth, but it came off as more of a leer.

Taking a deep breath, Eva tried to focus as the old man took another handful of his prize and smeared it all over his lips and beard. “Did you know my father?”

Lord Vyr paused, honey-covered fist halfway to his mouth. “Indeed I did.”

Eva felt a rush of excitement and tried to sort through the dozens of questions begging to be asked. “How did he die?”

“He was headstrong and proud,” Lord Vyr said. “But dead? Not to my knowledge.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

In the days that followed, Eva thought she might go mad. Despite Lord Vyr’s shattering revelation, he refused to say more. She’d pressed as far as she dared, but in the end it did no good.

Desperate, Eva wrote Soot a letter, begging for anything he would tell her, her earlier anger at him forgotten. Whether he was trying to figure out how to respond or just ignoring her, Eva didn’t know. Each night, she stared at the ceiling, wide awake, wondering. If her father was truly alive, where could he be; what could he be doing? Who was he? Why had he left her? The questions plagued Eva until she thought she might go mad if they were left unanswered.

Celina hadn’t resumed their training, either, and was absent from the Main Hall at mealtimes. Eva started to wonder if Uthred might be poisoning her. With nowhere else to turn, Eva knew where she had to go next. Even so, the thought raised goose bumps on her arms, thinking of their last encounter. She needed to see Ivan again.

How proved to be more difficult than Eva could have imagined. She’d wandered by Ivan’s chamber a handful of times, looking for an opportunity. The guards were friendly enough and let her talk to Ivan through the door, but they didn’t allow her in the room again, nor did they give them any privacy. And the questions Eva needed to ask couldn’t be asked in front of an audience. On the plus side, he seemed completely normal each time she visited. If he had any recollection of their meeting the night of the attacks, Ivan gave no sign.

For days, she thought of all the possible ways to get a few minutes alone with Ivan. Each idea proved more impossible and ridiculous than the last. Whenever Eva caught sight of Uthred within the mountain, it only made Eva’s task more urgent. She needed more proof.

Eva considered telling Wynn or Sigrid but decided against it. Although willing, Wynn seemed more likely to tell the whole mountain than be of any real help. Eva doubted Sigrid would believe her about Uthred, and a small part of her wondered if Sigrid might even go to the commander if Eva disclosed her suspicions.

After much thought, Eva realized she’d have to work alone — and probably at night. The thought of wandering around the dark halls of the Gyr made her break out in goose bumps, but she didn’t see any other way. Plus, she noticed only one guard stood on duty at night. Dealing with one person instead of two, Eva told herself, doubled her chances of success.

Another week passed, and Eva struggled to come up with any solutions in between her busy schedule. To stay in practice while Celina — hopefully — recovered, Eva approached Sigrid. In the few times they’d sparred, Sigrid won almost every time. Almost. Even Sigrid couldn’t believe Eva’s progress, and she couldn’t wait to show Cross the results of her grueling work.

“You’re going to do fine,” Sigrid said.

Eva thought Sigrid probably believed in her more than Eva did herself, but she didn’t say anything. The day of Cross’s portion of the trial came out of nowhere. Eva spent the morning frazzled and sick, but as soon as the bells rang out in the Main Hall and the fledgling recruits headed for the Pit, a calm, almost hollow feeling overcame her.

“What, do you want a medal or something, Queen Magpie?” Cross asked when Eva finished their run well ahead of the younger students. He’d gone slightly — slightly — easier on her since the sparring match with Sigrid and Uthred, but not by much. “Get over there, and get ready to step into the circle.”

While Eva strapped on her padded practice armor and selected her training weapons from the rack, the rest of the recruits filed in. Soon, the entire class stood around, just as they had the last time Eva entered the circle. She vowed this time would be different.

“All right, magpies,” Cross barked. He strode up and down their line, much as he had the first day of training. “I’ve watched you stumble around and make fools of yourselves for almost half a year. Now it’s time to see you’ve learned anything.”

The drill master’s eyes fell on Eva. “Why don’t you go first, Queen Magpie? I’ve got a special treat for you.”

He whistled, and Sigrid stepped out of the shadows, dressed in training gear and armed with two practice blades. She shot Eva an apologetic look. They were long past the beating, but seeing Sigrid standing there just like before made Eva’s stomach churn. She pushed the fear down and remembered that this fight was a chance to prove herself.

Eva stepped into the ring and tried to pretend it was just another bout with Celina in the privacy of their training room. The younger students parted to make way for Sigrid, but this time her face held none of the malice it had during their first fight. If anything, she looked…nervous.

The recruits closed back around, filling the training circle. Cross stood on the edge, between Eva and Sigrid. “Begin,” he said.

Eva didn’t hesitate. Just as Celina had hammered into her over and over for the past months, she seized her moment. She threw herself at Sigrid, who jerked back in surprise but managed to block her overhead cut. They traded a few blows back and forth, but Eva felt tense and stiff. She realized she was gritting her teeth with every strike and forced her body to relax.

They moved inside the ring like two dancers twirling and whirling together and apart. Everything melted away except for the point of Eva’s and Sigrid’s weapons. Eva felt a surge of satisfaction and confidence just like getting into rhythm with hammer and anvil. Sigrid seemed to slow, and Eva found herself a fraction of a moment ahead of the other girl. Sigrid stabbed with her shorter sword, and Eva sidestepped. Eva’s long blade caught Sigrid’s as it came down, and the tip of her wooden short sword jabbed Sigrid’s midriff.

Both fighters broke apart, panting and grinning.

“A touch to Queen Magpie,” Cross said in a low growl. Eva wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or trying to hide approval. “I see if you’ve learned which end of a sword is the pointy end. But let’s —”

“Drill Master Cross!” Eva and the rest of the class looked up to the balcony and saw Uthred. Eva felt real fear again, wondering what could have brought the commander to the training area.

“There has been another attack,” Uthred said. “Please escort your recruits to the Main Hall at once. Everyone should be armed with at least a practice weapon. Post guards in the front and the back and stay together.”

The recruits and their fledgling gryphons began to panic, but Cross brought them to order with a shout. The group gathered in a tight formation with Cross at the head and Sigrid in back. Clutching their practice weapons, eyes wide with fear, they started for the Main Hall. Eva stayed in the back with Sigrid and kept Fury in sight at all times. A feeling of dread loomed over her. She wondered whom had been attacked and if she was partly responsible. She’d been too complacent, she knew.

The Main Hall buzzed with scores of recruits and Windsworn of all ages. Armed guards stood at the entrances in full armor, hands on their swords. Eva felt the fear in the air as strong as the dozens of concerned voices all talking at once. Andor appeared on the overlook, but it took several moments for everyone to settle down enough for him to be heard.

“There has been another attack,” he said, voice carrying across the chamber. “This time, a recruit has been killed.”

The hall broke into chaotic shouts of outrage. Several riders shook their weapons in the air, demanding the entire Gyr be checked level by level until the culprit was caught.

Andor raised his hands, but it took several minutes of the other Windsworn officers shouting to quiet everyone enough for the lord commander to be heard again.

“Until further notice, I order everyone, both recruits and Windsworn, to travel everywhere inside the mountain in groups of two or more. It would also be wise to go armed whenever you leave your quarters and to make sure your rooms are secured before retiring at night. Patrols are being formed to search the mountain as we speak. Please return to your garrisons until further notice.”

Eva wasn’t sure the crowd would disperse — most seemed keen to begin a manhunt right then and there. Eventually reason won out, and people began to exit. Sticking close to Sigrid and Wynn, Eva joined the throng and worried about losing Fury all the way back to the barracks.

Once in their quarters, Sigrid shrugged off her padded practice gear and put on her leather and mail Windsworn attire. “I’ve got to take part in patrols,” she said to the two of them, sliding numerous knives into her belt. “Whatever you do, stay here and don’t leave without a group.”

Eva nodded, still in shock. Wynn, on the other hand, buried her face in her hands and started sobbing.

“It’s going to be okay,” Eva said, rushing to her side and wrapping her arm around her.

“N-no, you don’t understand,” Wynn said voice thick from crying. “I heard them in the hall. The person who d-died was Danny!”

Wynn wailed even louder, and Eva’s stomach dropped. Danny, the small boy who could answer every question in class, who’d worshiped the ground Wynn walked on even though she wanted nothing to do with him.

“I was s-so mean to him, and he was always nice!” she howled, the words almost impossible to make out.

Eva pulled Wynn tighter, sick to her stomach. Wynn buried her face in Eva’s shoulder, still sobbing. After a few quiet moments passed, Sigrid glanced at Eva and nodded her head down at Wynn. Eva gave the younger girl a gentle squeeze, and she pulled back, wiping the tears away from her swollen eyes.

“Sorry, Wynn, but I need to take you back to your quarters before I go on patrol,” Sigrid said. “They’ll be doing roll, and we don’t want you reported missing.”

“Okay,” Wynn said in a small voice. Eva rose with her and gave the younger girl a long hug. The girl’s responding squeeze was limp, which didn’t make Eva feel any better.

“I’ll come stay with you until Sigrid’s back,” Eva told her. “I can’t stay alone anyway while she’s gone.”

Sigrid caught her look and nodded. “That’s a good plan.”

Unlike the full Windsworn, the fledgling recruits stayed in a long hall with bunk beds lining both sides. The news that Danny was the victim had spread, and all the young girls were shaken, huddled together with their gryphons in small groups. Eva stayed by Wynn’s bedside as the girl cried herself to sleep. Sometime around midnight, Sigrid returned, and they went back to their own quarters. Although Sigrid was fully armed, Eva jumped at every shadow and spent the whole journey looking over her back, unnerved.

She’d tried to piece together the attack from everything she knew. Had Ivan been involved, possessed again by whatever dark power held him in its sway the night of the previous attack? Based on what Sigrid told Eva from her briefing, it seemed almost impossible Uthred had killed Danny himself, in person. Even so, Eva still knew he had to have been involved. Danny’s body, Sigrid told her, had been found in the lower levels near the Catacombs.

“Looks like he lost his way on the way to training or something,” Sigrid said as they reached their door. “Must have come across something he wasn’t supposed to see, poor little bugger.”

“And you didn’t find anything?” Eva asked.

Sigrid shook her head. “Nope, and neither did anyone else, although most of the older riders are still looking.” Her eyes fell to the ground, and she kicked her boots against the rock. “Eva, there’s something else.”

“What?” Eva asked, afraid to know the answer.

“It’s your Scrawl friend,” Sigrid said. “The guards said he started acting strange right before they found the body — chanting and muttering and stuff. Rumor has it the dead boy’s forehead had the Scrawl rune for death carved into it. There’s a lot of the veterans pointing the blame at him. The lord commander kept them from doing anything drastic for now, but it’s not looking good.”

Eva bit her lip. This was it. For better or worse, she couldn’t keep this thing to herself anymore. It might be Ivan’s only chance.

“Sigrid, I need to tell you something.”

Eva related the full account of what happened the night Fury went missing, including overhearing Celina and Uthred talking and finding Ivan in a trance. Sigrid listened without interruption until Eva finished.

“And you haven’t told anyone?” Sigrid said.

Eva blushed. “No…I didn’t have any real proof, and if I said something based on what I did know, I thought they’d blame Ivan.”

“But what if Ivan is to blame?” Sigrid said. “Look, I know you think he’s just a kid, but he’s not. It sounds like he can do some serious rune magic when the mood takes him.”

“Ivan’s innocent,” Eva said, voice raising. “Someone or something is using him. You didn’t see how he was when the light from my Wonder brought him out of it. It was like two different people. I just need the chance to talk to him without anyone standing guard.”

Sigrid looked at her like she was crazy.

“Please,” Eva said. “I need your help.”

Eva didn’t say anything, but it passed unspoken between them. And you owe me for what you did.

Sigrid ran her hands through her tousled black hair and blew out a deep sigh. “Storm it all,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

They clung to the shadows, using Sigrid’s knowledge of the patrol routes to creep down to the lower levels unseen. As they neared Ivan’s room, Eva reflected on how well the plan was working so far. She’d started to think the biggest problem would be Fury — they’d locked him in their quarters before leaving, but no matter how Eva tried to calm him, he threw an ear-splitting tantrum as soon as the door closed.

“Damned thing almost took my hand off!” Sigrid muttered. She held up her right hand, showing Eva the bleeding cut.

“Sorry,” Eva said. “He’s…free spirited?”

“I don’t care what any prophecy says, he’s a vicious little beast,” Sigrid said. “I wouldn’t trade Sven for that demon even if you made me lord commander!”

Eva felt a twang of irritation. Fury wasn’t that bad anymore — most of the time. “Can we focus?” she hissed. Bending forward, she peeked out of the crevice they’d hidden themselves in. Ivan’s room was only a few turns and a couple of dozen paces away. “I still don’t know how we’re going to get past the guards.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Sigrid said. “But it won’t leave you much time, so cut the small talk.”

Eva shot her a questioning glance.

“I can tell the guards I saw something on the lower levels and need their help,” Sigrid said. “It’s the best I can think of.”

“We can’t do that!” Eva said. “If they find out you’re lying, who knows what will happen?”

“The only way I’ll get caught is if you’re still there when I get back,” Sigrid said. “So, make sure you keep it quick. I can’t guarantee much.”

Eva nodded and sucked in a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

They snuck closer until they were in the same corridor as Ivan’s room. Eva peeked around the corner and saw two guards. She pulled back around and nodded to Sigrid.

“Remember, be fast,” Sigrid said.

Without waiting for Eva’s reply, Sigrid sprinted around the corner toward the pair. Not daring to look, Eva remained out of sight as Sigrid told her story.

“Quick, I need your help!” she said. “I just saw someone running down toward the Catacombs. I called out, but they didn’t stop. It might be the killer!”

Eva heard the skepticism in the guards as they replied. “We didn’t see anyone go past.”

“They went down one of the side tunnels,” Sigrid said. Her flustered act impressed Eva. “Hurry!”

Sigrid must have looked desperate or the guards were tired of missing out on the action because a moment later Eva heard armor rustling and hurried footsteps. She ducked around the end of the corridor and pressed herself against the stone wall. Sigrid and the two guards ran the opposite direction, deeper into the mountain.

As soon as they disappeared, Eva ran for Ivan’s door. “Ivan! It’s me, Eva!”

She pressed her ear to the thick door but didn’t hear any chanting from inside. A faint rustling sound drew nearer, and Ivan appeared behind the bars cut into the door.

“Eva!” he said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t have much time,” Eva said. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“There was some shouting and then the lord commander came by, but he wouldn’t tell me anything,” Ivan said. “What’s happening?”

Eva hesitated, searching for the right words. “Ivan…” she said. “A boy was killed and…and someone carved a Scrawl death rune into his forehead.”

The dark, swirling markings tattooed on Ivan’s face stood out in stark contrast to his paling face. “But…how could that be? Who would…It can’t be a Scrawl; it can’t!”

“Ivan, I came to see you a while ago, the night of the first attack,” Eva said. “I could hear you inside, making some weird chanting noise…do you remember that?”

Eva studied Ivan’s face, looking for any sign of deception, but the boy looked genuinely bewildered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “But Eva…I’m afraid something is happening to me. The dreams I’m having lately, they’re terrible. I’m in this cavern with a big archway, and someone is chanting in a language I don’t understand. These runes catch fire and they’re burning me, but I can’t get away. I want to run, but I can’t move! And sometimes I forget what I’ve been doing for hours at a time. Eva, I’m scared! What if I’m going insane?”

Eva’s heart dropped. It was about the worst thing the Scrawl boy could have said. “I’ll think of some way to help you, Ivan. But I have to know — you have to promise me that you’re not part of this.”

“I promise,” the boy said. “I haven’t hurt anyone!”

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to talk to you again,” Eva said. “But you’ve got to —”

“What is this?” Uthred’s voice echoed through the empty tunnel.

Eva turned around slowly, placing a shaking hand on her sword. The commander blocked the only way out with two guards, who held a struggling Sigrid between them. She was disarmed, hands bound behind her back.

“I think we’ve found our traitors.”

“You’re making a mistake!” Sigrid shouted, rattling the cell bars. “Someone else is going to die if you don’t let us talk to the lord commander!”

But no one could hear her. After disarming and binding Eva, Uthred had them placed in the Gyr’s dungeons in a secluded, forgotten part of the mountain. The cells were square stone rooms with a thick iron-banded door that had a tiny opening set with bars inside. The place was dank and damp as any dungeon had a right to be, buried in the middle of the mountain where even rumor of sunlight didn’t exist.

While Sigrid continued to pound on the door, Eva slumped against the far wall. Fortunately, they hadn’t found her Wonder, and she withdrew it but found little reassurance in its soft glow. Sigrid noticed the light and turned around, eyes wide.

“What in the sky is that?” she asked, backing up to the opposite wall.

“It used to be my mother’s,” Eva said. “I usually keep it hidden.”

“It’s a Wonder,” Sigrid said. Rather than amazed or impressed, she sounded suspicious. “What does it do?”

“Just makes light,” Eva said.

“Magic’s magic,” Sigrid said. “You sure it doesn’t do anything else?”

“It’s fine, I promise,” Eva said. Shooting the Wonder stone one last scowl, Sigrid resumed pacing in front of the door like a caged animal.

“I’m sorry,” Eva said after a long stretch of silence passed between them. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

“You did what you thought was right,” Sigrid said, stopping her pacing long enough to shrug. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Eva swallowed, fighting back the rush of emotions and fatigue that threatened to break her. “It doesn’t matter,” she said in a thick voice. “All I did was get us both in trouble.”

Who knew how long they’d be left down here? Surely, Andor would at least get their side of the story, wouldn’t he? In the meantime, Uthred was free to roam the halls. Eva’s stomach turned thinking about Fury alone and unprotected.

“You’re a lot tougher than you look, you know?” Sigrid said from across the cell.

“Thanks, I guess?” Eva said.

“No, I mean it.” Sigrid hesitated then sat down beside her. Eva could tell she was struggling to say more. “I was jealous of you, when the red egg hatched for you. After all the work I did to become Windsworn, I didn’t think it was fair you just got to show up here. So, no matter what happens, don’t feel sorry. This is the least I could do.”

“Thanks for helping me,” Eva said. “And for being my friend.”

Sigrid nodded and ducked her face down. Eva looked away as a sniff echoed in the dimly lit cell. They huddled together, shivering in the cold. Neither spoke. Eva didn’t know when, but she must have dozed off. Sometime later, Sigrid shook her awake.

“Someone’s coming!” Sigrid said.

Sure enough, footsteps echoed through the chamber. Eva rushed to tuck her Wonder beneath her uniform, and the light faded. They pulled themselves to their feet, stiff from lying on the cold stone ground.

“Hey!” Sigrid yelled, rushing to the door. “Get us the storm out of here!”

The footsteps stopped outside their cell. Eva looked through the little window in the top of the door and saw Tahl peering at them.

“What are you doing here?” Sigrid asked. “What’s going on? Let us out!”

The boy shushed them, glancing around as Sigrid’s shouts echoed throughout the dungeon.

“Will you keep it down?” he said in a low voice. “Nobody knows I’m here. The lord commander has left the Gyr; there’s been a massive Juarag raid out on the frontier, the biggest in years. Most of the riders have gone with him — there’s mostly just elders and recruits in the mountain now.”

“But what about the attacks?” Sigrid asked. “How could everyone just leave?”

“That’s what everyone left is doing — searching,” Tahl said. “They say Celina is worse, maybe on her deathbed. Uthred is in charge. He doubled the guard on the Scrawl boy. There’s some who think the Scrawls are in league with the Juarag, that it’s all some big scheme.”

“Can you get us out?” Sigrid asked.

Tahl shook his head. “I can see about getting you some food, but you might be here a couple of days. Uthred told everyone you were trying to help the Scrawl boy escape; is that true?”

“No!” Eva said. “Ivan is innocent! Uthred is the one who needs to be stopped.”

Tahl looked at her, confused. “Stop him from doing what?”

“Eva thinks he’s the one behind the attacks,” Sigrid said. “Which I said was —”

“No,” Tahl said. “Commander Uthred is one of the most decorated and honored riders in all of the Windsworn.”

Once again, Eva recounted overhearing Uthred and Celina in the tunnels.

“You don’t have to believe me,” Eva said when she’d finished. “Just get us out, and stay out of my way. I’ve got to get back to Fury before something happens.”

Tahl looked taken aback, but Eva was too cold, tired, and hungry to care what he thought.

“None of this makes any sense,” Tahl said.

“Please,” Eva said, locking eyes with him.

“Do you believe all this?” Tahl asked Sigrid.

“Well…” Sigrid hesitated and looked at Eva. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but yes.”

In spite of the dire situation, Eva beamed at the other girl.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Tahl said.

As soon as he’d gone, Sigrid turned to Eva. “What are you planning on doing if we get out of here?”

“We’ve got to get a message to the lord commander,” Eva said. “I’m a fool for not telling him in the first place — I just hope it isn’t too late now.”

“It doesn’t look good,” Sigrid said. “I mean, if it was Uthred, what’s stopping him now?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The hours stretched by while they waited for Tahl to return. To their surprise, the guards brought them a hot meal of stew and bread but delivered it at swordpoint after they’d forced them back against the far wall. Eva and Sigrid devoured it like starving gryphons as soon as they’d left.

Once the food was gone, they tried to get some sleep, but every time Eva closed her eyes all she could think of was Fury and Ivan. The thoughts and scenes her imagination conjured up nearly drove her crazy before she heard voices echoing down the chamber later that night.

“Ow! Will you watch where you’re going?”

“And will you be quiet before we’re thrown in a cell, too?”

Somewhere outside, a gryphon hissed as well, and Eva held out hope they’d found Fury. Tahl and Wynn’s bickering carried down the passageway outside, and Eva felt a ray of hope through their dank confinement. Moments later, Tahl appeared at the door.

“We’ve got to hurry,” he said. “We found a secret passage through the back, but the guards might have heard us when we shifted the stone door covering it back into place.”

“We found a secret passage?” Eva couldn’t see her, Wynn’s voice rose from the other side of the door, indignant. “We didn’t find a secret passage, golden boy, I showed it to you.”

Tahl sighed. “Yes, of course. Can you keep it down?”

Eva wondered how Wynn knew about a secret passage into the dungeons but decided that given the circumstances it would be better to ask later. Moments later, the door swung open, and a flash of red burst through the door, straight for Eva.

“Fury!” Eva said, trying to keep her voice down. The gryphon purred, rubbing his head against her knee. “I missed you too, boy.”

Tahl and Wynn stood in the doorway, a large sack between them on the ground.

“Your weapons,” Tahl said, untying the bag.

Eva buckled on her knife and short sword while Sigrid gathered her collection of knives and axes.

“Let’s go,” Eva said, rushing for the door. But Tahl blocked her path. “Tahl, look out! We’ve got to get a message to Andor.”

“Eva, it’s too late for that,” he said, dropping his eyes to the ground. “Something happened while I was gone.”

Eva’s stomach twisted, and her heart felt like lead. “Oh no,” she whispered. “Ivan. They didn’t…”

Tahl shook his head. “They didn’t kill him, not yet, anyway. But he escaped from his cell — burned down the door like it was kindling and overpowered all the guards. They tracked him to the Catacombs but haven’t found him yet. If they do, he’ll likely be killed on sight.”

“No,” Eva said. “No, no, no. There must be some mistake. Uthred —”

“Commander Uthred searched the lower levels with everyone else,” Tahl said. “The Scrawl’s gone, Eva. He deceived you.”

“No,” Eva said again, undeterred. “You don’t understand; there’s something else going on here — I’ve just got to find him.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” Sigrid said, hands on her hips. “If no one else could find him, what chance do we have?”

Eva paused. It was true. She had no idea where Ivan would have gone. Her mind raced through their conversations…and then it hit her.

“I know where Ivan went,” Eva said. “Or at least an idea. When I talked to him last night, he told me he’d been seeing a cavern with a big arch in his dream — I’d bet anything it’s somewhere in the Catacombs! If we find that cavern, we’ll find Ivan!”

“Well, let’s go, then,” Wynn said as if that settled it.

Eva grabbed her shoulder before the younger girl could walk away. “Wynn, you can’t come.”

“The storm I can’t!” Wynn said in a loud voice. The others cringed as it echoed throughout the dungeons. “You aren’t going to leave me behind after I rescued you.”

“Helped rescue,” Tahl said. Wynn’s eyes narrowed, but Eva stepped between them before the younger girl could hit him. “And besides,” he continued, “this is treason!”

“Wynn, I need you to get a message to the lord commander and Soot,” she said. “This is just as important as what we’re doing. They need to know what’s happened. Can you do that for me?”

The young girl hesitated a moment and then reluctantly shook her head. “Fine…but I want full credit for helping out with this, you hear me?”

Eva let out a dry laugh. “If I’m wrong, you won’t want anyone to know you had anything to do with this, but it’s a deal. Now hurry!”

Wynn took off down the passage, leaving Eva, Fury, Sigrid, and Tahl in the cell.

“You don’t have to come,” Eva told them. She tried not to think about wandering in the pitch black of the Catacombs with only Fury by her side. “You’re already both going to be in enough trouble.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Sigrid said. “Of course we’re coming. Right, Tahl?”

Tahl looked away. “Well…ow!” He rubbed his shoulder, and Sigrid raised her fists, prepared to punch him again.

“You’re either coming, or I’ll knock you out and lock you in here,” Sigrid said.

Tahl hesitated, and for a moment Eva thought Sigrid would follow through with her promise. “Fine!” he said at last. “But if we get court-martialed, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Using Wynn’s secret tunnel, they made it out of the dungeons and down to the lower levels without running into anyone else. When they reached the bottom of the storehouse floors, Eva stopped. The immaculately carved tunnels gave way to raw slabs of jagged rock, marking the beginning of the Catacombs.

“Are they still searching?” Eva whispered to Tahl.

He nodded. “Let me go first, a little ahead. If they catch me, you two can still make a run for it, and I can pretend like I’m delivering a message or something.”

They agreed, and Tahl took the lead, traveling by the light of a shuttered crystal lantern he’d procured along the way. After only a couple of levels, however, it sputtered out, leaving them in darkness.

“Great,” Sigrid hissed. “How are we supposed to see a storming thing down here? If we don’t run into a patrol, we’ll probably fall down some pit and break our necks!”

“They aren’t just lying around everywhere, you know,” Tahl said. “I was lucky enough to find one at all!”

“Oh for crying out loud,” Eva said, pulling the Wonder out from beneath her uniform. It cast a dim light ahead, just as good as the crystal lantern. “Can we keep moving?”

Tahl shot Sigrid a questioning glance, but she shook her head. Now in the front, Eva led the way with no idea which way to go. It was the deepest she’d ever been in the mountain, and the chill of the dark seeped through her uniform. The passage narrowed until they had to walk single file: Fury, then Eva and Sigrid with Tahl in the back. All of a sudden, Fury stopped, causing them all to crash into one another.

Sigrid cursed. “What’d you stop for?”

“It’s Fury,” Eva said. The gryphon raised his beak into the air as if sniffing the air. He let out a low hiss and, without warning, sprang away into the darkness.

“Fury!” Eva, Sigrid, and Tahl ran after him. After a few dozen paces they came around a bend and were met with a three-way fork in the road.

“Storming little monster!” Sigrid said. “Eva, which way did he go?”

Eva had no clue, but she closed her eyes and tried to summon the same connection she’d felt with Fury the night of the attack. Nothing came to mind.

“I…I don’t know,” she said after a long moment. At the same time, voices echoed up the tunnel to the right, growing louder.

“Well, you’d better figure it out!” Sigrid hissed. “We’re about to have company!”

Eva gritted her teeth, heart pounding in her ears. She had no sense of the direction Fury had taken. Straight or left? The voices grew louder, and the first flicker of light reflected around a bend.

“Eva!” Sigrid said. “Just pick one!”

“Hold on!” Eva’s eyes flickered back and forth between the path, and now she could hear footsteps accompanying the voices. “Ahh…”

“No time, pick!” Tahl whispered.

Eva took a deep breath and pointed an uncertain hand straight ahead. “This way.”

They sprinted down the middle tunnel, several sharp bends hiding their light from the patrol approaching the split in the tunnels. The voices of the patrol faded in the background, but they saw no sign of Fury. Eva started to second-guess herself and thought about turning back. At the same time, the path slanted downward, and she tripped, then fell headfirst.

Unable to stop, Eva tumbled down the slope, banging into the rock walls. Sigrid and Tahl crashed behind her, but after several yards the path leveled out again and they all rolled to a stop. As soon as they did, a large stone rolled across the tunnel, blocking the way they’d come.

“Storm it all,” Sigrid moaned as they struggled to their feet. “I’ve had about enough of wandering around in this sky-forsaken hole!”

While Tahl tried to budge the stone slab, Eva untangled the Wonder stone from around her neck, grateful it hadn’t chipped or broken. The light revealed a small, round cavern, the path continuing just ahead of them.

“This isn’t going anywhere,” Tahl said, smacking the rock with his hand. “Guess we’re committed.”

On one hand, she felt relieved they couldn’t be followed. One the other, she realized, it also meant no help would be able to reach them. They were on their own.

They passed around a sharp bend and saw an orange light just ahead, glowing like coals in a forge. Eva tucked her Wonder inside her tunic, guided by the fiery gleam. The tunnel opened into a large cavern, and she saw Fury ahead, sitting and staring up at an enormous archway built against the far wall.

Eva shuddered and knew without a doubt they’d found the cavern from Ivan’s dream. Illuminated by a series of raw crystals set in nooks in the wall, the runes carved into the arch loomed jagged and harsh. Eva’s skin crawled, and she tore her eyes away. When she walked to Fury’s side, however, he acted like she wasn’t even there, staring up at the carvings.

Sigrid made a short search of the chamber and swore. “Dead end. We’re stuck.”

In spite of the ominous feeling it gave her, the arch pulled Eva’s eyes back to it. Soon they were all standing in a line, staring at the wall.

“I wonder if it’s some kind of altar.” Tahl said in a hushed voice.

“Storming magic,” Sigrid said in the same disgusted voice she’d used when Eva first showed her the Wonder stone. “Let me take a look.”

Both Eva and Tahl turned to look at her, surprised. “Some of the characters look like the runes the Bersi use.”

“Sigrid’s Bersi,” Tahl said, seeing Eva’s confused look. “They’re a small southern tribe, distant cousins to the Scrawls.”

Eva stared at her. Despite Sigrid’s hawkish features and raven-colored hair, she’d always assumed the girl was Sorondaran. There were a few recruits from some of the other cultures across western Altaris, but they were a rarity and Eva had only seen a handful in all the months she’d been living in the Gyr.

“If you tell anyone, I swear I’ll punch your lights out,” Sigrid said, still staring at the runes. Although her concentration was fixed on the wall, Eva still took a step back.

“It’s sort of a secret,” Tahl explained. “Only myself, the lord commander, and a few others know.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Eva said in what she hoped was a convincing voice. But Sigrid wasn't listening. She peered closed at each rune, mumbling things under her breath, and she traced the outline, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Bring me some light,” Sigrid said, waving her hand for Eva to step closer.

Eva pulled out the Wonder’s chain from beneath her tunic and held the stone up as high as she could. As soon as the pale light touched the rock, the rune markings started to shine. Soon, the entire arch glowed like a blade just pulled from the fire and the entire chamber shone like the noonday sun. Pulled from his apparent trance, Fury hissed and backed away, the humans following suit.

Like blood leaking from a wound, the light spread from the rune carvings out across the wall within the arch. Glowing spiderweb cracks appeared in the rock. The webs of light spread faster and faster until the stone cracked and snapped, crumbling to the ground.

“We’ve got to get out,” Tahl said, grabbing Eva by the arm. “The chamber’s collapsing!”

“Wait!” Eva said, pulling her arm back. The last chunk of rock fell away, and the dust settled, revealing a passage on the other side. A second later the orange glow flickered out, leaving them in the light of Eva’s Wonder.

No one moved or spoke. Grit and dust filled the air, and Eva coughed, breaking their stunned silence. Undaunted, Sigrid stepped through the opening.

“What are we waiting for?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The glow of the Wonder stone cast long shadows down the passage, and dust shone in the stale, still air. More ancient runes were carved into both sides of the rock tunnel. Eva tried not to look at them. She sensed a dark presence exuding from them, untold years of malice and hate bearing down on her. Their meaning seemed clear: You should not be here. The Windsworn hold no sway in this part of the mountain.

They continued downward at a slight slope for a few more minutes until Sigrid stopped abruptly and threw up a hand to hold Eva back.

“What is it?” Eva said, peering ahead of them into the gloom. It looked like the corridor widened into a large room.

“I’m not sure,” Sigrid said, examining both sides of the tunnel. “Just a hunch, but…”

Tired of waiting, Fury pushed past Eva’s and Sigrid’s legs and bounded across the threshold of the larger chamber.

“Fury, no!” Eva snatched at his tail, but it was too late. As soon as the gryphon’s rear paws touch the stone floor at the end of the tunnel, a loud click sounded followed by rock grinding on rock.

“Get down!” Sigrid leaped back, driving Eva to the ground with her. Eva felt a whoosh of stale air and looked up. A massive stone hammer swung down from the ceiling, cleaving the air where Eva and Sigrid had stood a moment before. It took several passes before its momentum played out and the hammer hung in the center of the chamber entrance, harmless.

All three rose, and Eva shuddered at the thought of what the hammer would have done had it connected with any of them. She scowled at Fury, who sat unharmed on the other side of the entranceway, head cocked to the side, waiting for them.

“He’s going to get us all killed,” Sigrid muttered.

“All right?” Tahl asked, face ashen.

Eva nodded. Her heart continued to race, and a tremble ran through her body.

“From now on, nobody goes in front of me unless I say so,” Sigrid said. She pointed an accusing finger at Fury. “Understood?”

The gryphon rolled his head in exasperation but waited and fell in behind Eva when she passed. The chamber was cut into a many-sided geometric shape. On the wall opposite were three tunnels. Each had a different rune carved above the entrance.

“Hold on,” Sigrid said, holding up her hand for them to stop. “Before I get smashed to a pulp, why don’t you all stay back while I take a look at things?” She walked within an arm’s reach of each entrance but made sure no part of her body passed the threshold.

“What do they say?” Tahl asked after she’d studied them in silence for several minutes.

“This language is all jumbled,” Sigrid muttering, shaking her head. “It’s old — far older than the runes any of the southern cultures use. I can only make out about a third of the words. From what I can tell, two passages lead to death, while the third continues deeper to something called the Heart of the Mountain.”

“So, how do we figure out which is which?” Eva asked.

“I don’t know, send that crazy gryphon of yours through and see what happens!” Sigrid snapped. Glancing at Fury, Eva decided to let Sigrid work things out on her own.

Muttering under her breath, Sigrid stared at the three tunnels for another long stretch. Eva grew more anxious with each passing minute — they didn’t have time for this. She looked at Tahl, who cleared his throat.

“Couldn’t we just throw something through each one and see what happens?” he asked.

Sigrid turned around and rolled her eyes. “Oh thanks, golden boy,” she said. “Why hadn’t I thought of that?”

She knelt down in front of the middle tunnel and pointed to a large square block cut into the rock. “That’s a pressure plate, just like the one Fury stepped on that made the hammer swing down. If you step on the wrong ones, something very bad will happen.”

“Then can’t we just jump over it?” Eva asked, although she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

Sigrid shook her head and pointed deeper down the tunnel. “There’s plates going back farther than you can jump. More than likely, whichever one you step on first will trigger something else nasty. You might get pulped by another hammer, impaled on a spear that shoots out of the wall, dropped into a pit…take your pick.”

“So, what do we do, then?” Eva asked, growing more frustrated. “Sit here until we die of old age or until we go insane and each walk through a tunnel to see who doesn’t meet a nasty ending?”

Sigrid’s eyes narrowed, but as she opened her mouth to retort, understanding dawned on her face. “That’s it!”

Eva glanced back at Tahl, who shrugged. “I think she’s lost it.”

“No, idiots, listen,” Sigrid said, motioning to them to come closer. “That’s what we have to do — all three of us will step on a plate at the same time!”

Eva looked at Tahl again — he seemed just as reluctant as her to step on any more plates after what had just happened. “Are you sure, Sigrid? Last time we did that, a giant hammer almost squished us.”

Sigrid nodded and pointed to the runes. “I’m sure… mostly. The trick will be to step at the same time. And whatever you do, don’t move until I say we’re clear. Eva, you take the left. Tahl, middle. I’ll take the right.”

As the other two took their positions, Eva looked back at Fury. “Don’t. Move.”

The gryphon cocked his head to the side and chirped before lying down.

“Okay,” Sigrid said. “On my count.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

Eva held her breath and stepped onto the plate. As soon as both feet touch the square stone, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for something horrible.

“Hold very still.” Sigrid said.

Eva felt a rumbling in the ground and clenched her teeth, willing her body to stay on the pressure plate instead of running away like every fiber of her screamed to do. The rumbling grew louder, and she could feel the ground beneath her quaking. She started to panic. What if the pressure plates dropped out from beneath them? What if something fell out of the ceiling above her?

“HOLD!” Sigrid yelled.

A boom like thunder reverberated through the chamber, knocking all three of them off their feet. When Eva looked up, a large slab of stone had fallen in front of her, sealing off the passage. To her right, Sigrid’s tunnel was blocked as well, but Tahl’s remained clear.

“I thought I said nobody move?” Sigrid said, climbing to her feet and dusting herself off.

They all shared a nervous laugh, then Sigrid led the way again. The tunnel beyond the chamber was just wide enough for them to fit single file. But Sigrid refused to carry the Wonder, although she remained in the lead. Tahl’s shoulders brushed against the walls, and his head almost touched the ceiling. Just as Eva started to feel claustrophobic, they came to another open room again, this one about half the size of the first. A small square table sat in the center.

Motioning for the others to hang back, Sigrid took a cautious step forward, then another. When she made it to the table, she turned and beckoned them to follow. Joining Sigrid, Eva saw three of the four corners had a rune cut into them. The fourth was blank.

“What do we do?” Eva wondered. She looked around the room but couldn’t see any pitfalls. The walls were solid rock, without any way out save for the way they’d come in.

“It’s some kind of puzzle,” Tahl said. “I think the table will spin if we push hard enough.”

To illustrate his point, he braced himself and shoved at one corner, and the table shifted a few inches before Sigrid yanked him back.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything,” she hissed. “There are consequences to everything we do down here!”

“Sorry,” Tahl muttered.

Sigrid shook her head, swearing under her breath, and traced the runes on the table with her finger. After a moment, she looked up at the wall. Using her arm, she wiped away the grime and cobwebs, revealing a larger version of one of the runes on the table. She dusted off two other spots on the wall and found runes matching the other two on the table’s corners.

Eva looked down at the table then up at the runes carved into the wall. They were one off from matching their positions.

“So, we just line them up?” she asked

“Looks that way,” Sigrid said. “But I’ve got a bad feeling there’s more to it.”

They fell silent as the dark-haired girl tapped a finger on the table, glancing back and forth from the table to the walls.

“Okay,” she said at last. “Right now, the blank space faces the way we came in, and all the other runes are off one to the right. So, by that logic, if we turn the table to the left, two of the runes will line up. Which means there’s no way for all three runes to line up.”

Eva felt a sinking feeling as she realized the puzzle was more complicated than they’d first thought. Even so, she was impressed — until then Sigrid hadn’t seemed like much of a thinker — unless you counted thinking about bashing someone with a sword. She knew already they could have never made it without the other girl.

“Maybe…” Eva said, voice trailing off as she tried to untangle her thoughts. “What if there’s more than one other passage out of here? What if each rotation opens another passageway?”

“Not a bad thought,” Sigrid said. “The only problem is I’m not sure which way we want to go. I’m also not sure what will happen if we just start spinning things around.”

She stared at the table and the walls, and then her eyes widened as they fell to the floor. “Of course!”

Eva and Tahl looked at each other as the girl dropped to the ground and started sweeping at it furiously with her uniform sleeve. “Don’t just stand there like a pile of pigeon droppings, get down here and help me!”

Eva and Tahl knelt down and started wiping. Their efforts revealed circles upon circles of runes coming out from the square table like ripples in a pond. When they’d finished, thick black dust covered Eva from head to toe. Looking at the circles within circles of runes made her head spin.

“Well, this just got a whole lot harder,” Tahl said.

Sigrid started walking around the table, following one circle after another.

“What does it say?” Eva asked.

“It’s all in riddles,” Sigrid said. “The left is the right if the sunlight you seek — that’s one line. In between that it’s just a bunch of jumbled letters. Here’s another one — Thrice to the right leads to the heart, but twice past the first leads only to dark. What in the sky?”

Eva repeated the lines under her breath. “I think I’ve got it!” she said. “The left is the right if sunlight you seek — one turn to the left will reveal a passage out of the mountain.”

“And thrice to the right, that must lead deeper into the mountain — to the Heart,” Tahl added.

Sigrid nodded. “It’s the last one that’s got me worried. “Twice past the first leads only to dark. Sounds like we want to avoid that one, but I don’t know which one the first one is…”

She heaved a sigh and ran her fingers through her disheveled braids and spiky hair. “All right,” she said at last, “Three times to the right it is. Nice knowing you all if I’m wrong.”

Tahl braced his legs and heaved. Ever so slowly, the table started to turn. Each time it passed over one of the sides, it made a loud clicking noise. At the same time, different circles on the floor started spinning toward the left. Eva and Fury jumped onto the platform beneath the table, the only part of the floor that wasn’t turning. As the bands began their slow rotation Sigrid’s eyes raced to read the runes.

“Wait!” she shouted, waving her hands. “It’s not the —”

The stone beneath Sigrid shattered, and she screamed, disappearing into darkness.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Eva rushed to the edge of the hole Sigrid had fallen through, heart racing. Complete darkness met her. Even with the Wonder, there was no way of seeing how far Sigrid had fallen — or was still falling.

Tahl dropped down next to Eva. “SIGRID!” he screamed into the hole. “I didn’t know,” he muttered. “I didn’t —”

“By thunder, will you shut up?” A strained, irritated voice drifted up to them from somewhere in the darkness.

“Sigrid!” Eva yelled. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not storming okay,” Sigrid answered. She didn’t sound too far away, but Eva had no idea how they were going to get her out. “Pretty sure my leg’s broken. Dammit all, I’m a fool. The lines in the floor were talking about the floor, not the table. The table was just the key to the alphabet.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Tahl said. “How far down are you?”

“Oh, I can see the two of you,” Sigrid said, “Probably about — aahhh — twice your height down. Got lucky. I think I fell on a platform of some kind. Doesn’t seem to be anything around me, though.”

“What are we going to do?” Eva asked Tahl. “We don’t have any rope.”

“You’re going to finish the puzzle that’s what!” Sigrid yelled up at them. “Because I’m sure as storm not going to die down here!”

“But what if we mess up again?” Tahl said. “Who knows what will happen?”

“You’re not going to mess up because I know what to do now,” Sigrid said. “How many times did you turn the table to the right?”

Tahl glanced up at the table. “Two.”

“Okay,” Sigrid said. “Turn it five slots back to the left. That will move the outer ring to the right three times, which is what we wanted in the first place.”

“But what about you?” Eva said. “If Tahl rotates the table and you get covered up, how are we going to get to you?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded grim.

“Then we’re not doing it,” Eva said. “We’ll figure out how to get you out first, and —”

“There’s no storming way to get me out without finishing the pattern!” Sigrid yelled. “Gahh — damned leg. Either do it, or we’ll all die down here!”

Eva looked at Tahl. “I don’t know what else to do,” he said. “I could lower you down to her, but then you’d both be stuck.

“All right,” Eva said, fighting back a rising sickness in her stomach. “Turn the table. I’ll keep an eye on her.

Lying on the solid circle of stone around the table, Eva stared down as Tahl set his feet once more and started pushing in the opposite direction. The first turn rotated Sigrid’s hole to the right, just like she’d predicted.

One more push, and Tahl brought the table back to its original place.

“Whatever you do, don’t go back the other direction,” Sigrid shouted. “I don’t want to find out what ‘twice past the first leads only to dark’ means.”

Tahl sucked in a deep breath and set his weight against the table again. The inner and middle bands rotated in opposite directions, each covering a piece of Sigrid’s hole.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” Sigrid sounded frantic. “There’s a whole bunch of counterbalanced pillars down here — if the table rests too long in the wrong place, they’re going to fall! Finish the rotation!”

The entire room started to shake and rumble. Tahl heaved, and the table moved once more…then stopped. He pushed harder, teeth gritting and veins straining in his neck and head but to no avail. The table remained firm, one turn short.

“PUSH, DAMN YOU!” Sigrid screamed.

Fury cried in alarm as bits of rock fell from the ceiling. Eva threw herself at another corner of the table, but it held firm.

“PUSH! THE PILLARS ARE FALLING!”

Eva strained with every muscle in her body. The table moved a fraction, or did she imagine it? Her entire world seemed to be shaking, rising, and falling.

And then it gave way, clicking into the final spot.

The rumbling stopped at once. Eva and Tahl collapsed to the ground, panting.

Eva looked around and saw holes throughout the rings, gaping pits leading to emptiness below. She sucked in a breath of air and shouted for Sigrid.

“I’m here; I’m fine.” Sigrid’s voice rose from the opposite side of the chamber where she’d first fallen. “There’s a staircase cut into the stone.”

Eva and Tahl followed the sound of her voice until they found the top of the stairs. They picked their way down the stairs to where Sigrid lay on a small platform surrounded by a bottomless chasm. When they reached her side, Eva and Tahl each took an arm and lifted her up. Together, they staggered up the steps like a drunken five-legged creature. At the top, Fury rushed to their sides, and the three started laughing.

“We did it,” Sigrid said. “We storming did it!”

“You did it!” Eva said. “That was amazing!”

“Not too amazing,” Sigrid said, grimacing. “You’re going to have to go on without me.”

“We can’t leave you here,” Eva said. “What if we can’t make it back to you?”

“Then I’ll crawl out of here on my own and take all the credit!” Sigrid said. She tried to frown, but a smile cracked her dirty, sweat-streaked face. “I’ll only slow you down.”

“I’ll leave Fury here with you,” Eva said.

Sigrid shook her head. “You’re wasting time.”

“She’s right,” Tahl said, taking Eva gently by the arm. “Come on; we can’t be far.”

“We’ll see you again,” Eva said, not sure if she was trying to reassure Sigrid or herself.

Sigrid nodded. “Be careful.”

Eva, Tahl, and Fury crossed the chamber, sidestepping the holes in the floor until they reached the new tunnel. Tightening her grip on the Wonder stone, Eva led the way.

The new passageway was wide enough for Eva and Tahl to walk side by side, Fury trailing close behind them. They continued in a straight line until Eva imagined she saw a light growing ahead. It grew stronger, revealing an end to the tunnel, bathed in orange light. They reached the threshold and stopped. If they’d learned one thing, it was to double check before they walked anywhere in the Catacombs.

Eva squinted into the next chamber. It was a stone’s throw wide with a narrow bridge running down the middle. A sheer, yawning abyss waited on either side. Eva had a feeling it was a lot deeper than the one Sigrid had fallen down. Crystal lamps lined the two walls running parallel to the bridge, the source of the orange light. On the far side, an archway led into darkness.

Eva raised the Wonder stone into the air, but its light revealed nothing other than bare rock. “At least there aren’t any more runes,” Tahl said. “We’d be doomed if we had to translate something.”

He stretched his toe forward and tapped on the stone in the threshold of the entryway. When nothing happened, he pressed his foot down, applying some weight. Still nothing.

“Let me go first,” Eva said.

Tahl grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Almost before Eva realized it, they were kissing. Her lips pressed against Tahl’s just as she’d imagine it a thousand times. For a few brief moments, the gloom and dread all melted away. Her head spun, but not from the dizzying drop just feet away. And then it was over.

“Just in case one of us meets a sudden and gruesome death,” Tahl said as they pulled apart.

In spite of their dire situation, Eva laughed and pulled him back. The second kiss lasted longer, until Fury forced himself between them and they parted.

With one last look at Tahl, Eva took a deep breath and stepped onto the narrow bridge. She tried to focus on the stone path before her instead of the gaping blackness on either side. Just thinking about it made her head spin and her legs wobbly. She’d never felt so exposed, not even on the back of a gryphon hundreds of feet in the air. A thought crossed her mind that it was not knowing what was below that made it worse.

“Let me cross all the way before you follow,” she yelled back at Tahl and Fury.

About four paces from the other end, a thunderous crack filled the chamber. Eva spun around and locked eyes with Tahl, frozen by fear. The bridge shifted beneath her feet, and the narrow length of stone started to sway.

Eva’s end of the bridge dipped, and Tahl jumped onto the other end to balance it back out.

“Fury, no!” Eva screamed in panic as the gryphon tried to follow Tahl. She feared the gryphon’s extra weight would topple them into the chasm.

Eva and Tahl crouched down to maintain their balance as the bridge started to spin and wobble.

“We’re going to have to meet in the middle,” Tahl said from across the bridge. As soon as they started inching toward the center, however, the rock shook, and they had to throw themselves down and wrap their arms around the edges to keep from being thrown off. On the far side of the cavern, Fury screeched, pacing back and forth along the ledge, desperate to reach Eva.

“It’s not going to work!” Eva yelled over the rumble. “I can’t come back across!”

“I’m not leaving you!” Tahl yelled back. He took a step forward, and Eva’s stomach clenched as the entire bridge dropped and teetered even worse.

“Stop!” Eva’s eyes met his eyes again, and she tried to recall the memory of them kissing to push away the terror building in her. “This is the only way. Take Fury, and go get help.”

Against her every instinct, she inched backward. The bridge sank, and Tahl had no choice but to do the same or send her plummeting to her death.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise!” he said.

They continued to scoot back, trying to match one another’s pace. Eva started to think they might make it when a sound like cracking ice filled the cavern. She looked at the middle of the bridge and saw lines racing throughout the dark stone, chunks of rock breaking in their wake.

“Eva, jump!” Tahl shouted over the rising din. “NOW!”

Eva twisted around and leaped. The edge of the rock connected with the bottom of her ribs, driving out her breath. She started slipping into the chasm and scrambled for purchase.

“EVA!” Tahl screamed. His voice sounded miles away. Eva clawed and kicked like a wild thing, fighting for any ledge, any crack she could find.

But the rock was smooth as glass, and she slid down to her elbows. Were it not for the strength in her forearms from years of swinging a hammer, Eva knew she would have gone over already.

Eva felt her arms inching backward. Her whole body burned from exertion, but she was helpless to do anything.

She fell.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Eva’s screams echoed throughout the chamber as the darkness rushed up to grab her. The air whistled by her, and she flailed, kicking arms and legs into nothingness. Soon the air left her lungs as her heart and stomach rushed up into her throat.

A screech split the air above her, and Eva felt a rush of wind before striking something beneath her. She felt feathers and fur and realized Fury had leaped after her. Although he’d managed to catch her, they continued to fall.

The air rushing past seemed to slow a fraction, and Eva felt the whoosh of his wings on either side of her. The thought struck her mind that Fury couldn’t fly and now they were both doomed. Even so, they seemed to be slowing. Eva tried to hold on and balance out her weight across his back — an almost impossible task given the gryphon wasn’t any bigger than a colt. Yet somehow they stopped. Eva felt Fury’s straining muscles beneath her and knew it took every bit of his strength to stay in the air. Afraid to move and upset her gryphon’s balance, Eva shut her eyes as they began to rise.

“Eva!” After several long, excruciating moments she opened her eyes. With the last of his strength, Fury pulled up to the opposite side of the chasm as Tahl. As soon as he reached the stone shelf, he collapsed, and Eva rolled off the gryphon.

“You flew!” Eva shouted, lifting his feathered head into her lap. Fury gave a weak chirp in answer, beak hanging open as he panted for breath, completely exhausted.

“Good boy.” Eva stroked the gryphon’s copper-colored head for several moments until Fury shook himself then sat up.

“Are you okay?” Tahl yelled across to her. “Maybe Fury can —”

“You’re too heavy,” Eva said at once. “He barely carried me. Go help Sigrid, and bring help!”

Tahl hesitated. “Be careful!” he shouted.

Eva committed the picture of him standing there to memory in case she never saw him again. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, she pulled out the Wonder stone, the pale pink, gold, and blue lights a small comfort in depths of the mountain. She held up the light, and it grew, filling the chamber. He raised his hand to her, smiling and then, was gone.

A quick check revealed Eva’s sword and knife had somehow stayed on her. Fury stood and looked at her. The gryphon’s presence gave Eva strength, and she took a deep breath. The tunnel yawned before them, black and empty as the chasm behind them. She stepped into the void, Fury at her side.

The click of Fury’s front talons on the rock cut through the stillness. Although she hadn’t noticed any real turns, when Eva looked back after a while there was no hint of orange light from the crystal lamps in the bridge room. Outside of the reach of her Wonder’s light, the path ahead looked endless.

“I guess I owe you one,” Eva said to Fury in an effort to break the maddening silence. The gryphon looked at her and dipped his head. Eva laughed. “No need to be modest about it.”

They stared at each other, Eva’s light blue eyes meeting Fury’s deep yellow. It seemed like a lifetime ago since Fury had hatched, changing her life forever.

“No matter what’s ahead, I won’t let anything a happen to you,” Eva said. “We’re in this together.”

Fury chirped and nudged Eva’s hand with his head, filling her with courage. The Wonder stone grew brighter in her other hand, and they pressed on.

What seemed like hours later, Eva had no sense of time or how far they’d traveled since leaving Tahl. She felt light-headed and stumbled often. She had no clue how long they’d been down in the Catacombs and guessed it had to be at least morning outside. Realizing that, her stomach grumbled, and her throat burned with sudden thirst.

“Almost there,” she said, over and over. “Almost there.”

At long last, Eva spotted a light ahead, an orange flicker in the distance burning like a fire. Eva paused long enough to tuck her necklace back into her uniform. With a light ahead, she felt the need to remain hidden as much as possible. She couldn’t say why, but it felt like the end lay ahead. Placing one hand on the wall to guide her in the faint glow and the other on the hilt of her sword, Eva started walking again.

The orange light grew, and Eva realized the entrance to the room ahead was gigantic, at least twice her height and wide enough for several people to pass through side by side. She continued forward at a steady pace, eager to reach the Heart of the Mountain but dreading what she might find.

A few dozen paces from the end of the passage, a silhouette appeared, outlined in the orange glow. Fury hissed and shrank back. Eva stopped and drew her sword, heart hammering in her chest.

“Who’s there?” Eva said, trying to sound brave. When the figure didn’t respond, she took a hesitant step forward. Light reflected off the person’s bald head, and Eva felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Ivan?”

No response. Eva took a few more hesitant steps, and her worst fear came true. It was indeed the Scrawl boy.

If he recognized her, Ivan gave no sign. He stared straight past them, down the length of the tunnel like Eva wasn’t there. His arms hung limp at his sides.

“Ivan, we’ve got to go,” Eva said. “There’s something down here…”

The Scrawl boy still didn’t seem to hear, so Eva grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him down the tunnel. Ivan took two faltering steps and then yanked his arm out of Eva’s grasp. Fury hissed and stepped backward, but Ivan just stood there again.

Ivan’s head turned, and his eyes focused on Eva. Raising a hand, he beckoned to her. Without waiting, the boy turned and walked into the chamber, toward the orange light.

Still grasping her sword, Eva followed, Fury at her side. When they crossed into the chamber, Eva gasped. It was the largest room she’d seen in the Gyr, hundreds of feet high and wide. The circular cavern walls were carved with gigantic runes twice Eva’s height. They pulsed and throbbed, bathing the chamber in a fiery glow, and Eva felt like she was inside a gigantic smelter.

Eva realized they stood on a large round platform of stone that dropped off before it met the cavern walls. A rectangular stone table stood in the center, about twice the length and width of a person. Across from them, Eva saw another entrance: a long stone ramp leading up to a pair of massive rune-carved doors. Ivan continued across the room to the table then stopped.

“Ivan, we’ve got to go,” Eva repeated in a louder voice.

As she spoke, the stone doors across the chamber opened, and Celina stepped into the light.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Eva’s mind tried to make sense of what her eyes showed her. Celina descended the ramp and walked toward them. As she approached, Ivan’s gaze followed her every move. Eva took a step back, mind reeling. At her side, Fury hissed.

“How good of you to join us, Eva dear,” Celina said. In the light of the runes, her face looked even paler and more drawn than the last time Eva had seen her, weeks before.

“You.” Eva said. “I don’t —”

Celina raised her hand, the one with the Wonder gauntlet on it. “All will be explained, Eva. You’ve done well to make it this far, but then again you’ve had a good teacher these past months, haven’t you?”

She smiled that sly fox smile, and the runes on her gauntlet pulsed with orange light of their own.

“What’s going on?” Eva demanded.

“Something very special,” Celina said. “An event over a thousand years in the making, and you’ve got the unique opportunity to witness it.”

The woman lifted a dark stone knife from the table and held her gauntlet over the table. As she did so, Ivan began to chant. Eva recognized it as the same deep, dirge-like voice he’d taken up in his chambers. His voice grew louder and faster, and Celina ran the knife through her palm. Blood flowing from the cut, she pressed her hand over a rune in the center of the stone table and held it in place until blood ran into the grooves. Ivan fell silent.

Eva took another step back. “This…this isn’t right,” she said. She reached for Ivan’s arm and pulled, but the boy shrugged her off again, eyes transfixed on the blood-filled rune.

“He can’t hear you,” Celina said. “He’s completely under my control now.” She flicked her wrist, and the runes on her iron band pulsed. Ivan took a step back from the table. Somehow the blood from Celina’s cut multiplied on the table and ran through hundreds of little grooves.

“You?” Eva said. She struggled to comprehend. Celina, who had stuck up for her in front the Council, had believed in her when no one else did and picked her up at her lowest. It made no sense.

Celina nodded. “Yes. “

Stunned, Eva took a faltering step back as Fury crouched down beside her, prepared to attack.

“Clever as you are, Eva you’ve only been shown a small piece of a much larger picture,” Celina said, ignoring their movements. “Your gryphon isn’t just a rare specimen, Eva. He’s a powerful omen. I knew when Devana first laid the red egg that it would be the key to my work.”

“Your…work?” Eva said, voice hoarse. Blood continued to run down the solid sides of the table, catching in a groove running around the base.

Celina nodded. “I told you before, my entire life was changed on that expedition to the east. There, among the ruins, I discovered a power far greater than my own.” She raised her left hand and turned her arm to show the glowing bracer. “This ancient relic opened my eyes and taught me secrets none have known for centuries. And ever so slowly, a grand future revealed itself to me, if only I had the strength to make it so.”

Eva struggled to sort through the hundreds of questions bombarding her. She halfway wondered if this was all some insane trial set forth by the Windsworn, but when she looked at Celina she saw nothing but madness in the woman’s dark eyes.

“But Uthred,” Eva said.

“Uthred? Ha!” Celina laughed, a cold heartless sound. “That loyal fool doesn’t have the strength or the vision to do what I will do. He began to suspect me, of course, but he had no proof, even after he started following me into the Catacombs. The Scrawl boy here proved a lovely diversion, though — his unique power made him especially vulnerable to the power of my Wonder. Poor Uthred couldn’t unravel what was happening before his very eyes, but he was persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“So, it was you,” Eva said. “You killed Devana and forced Ivan to steal the egg. You attacked Sigrid and Cassandra, and you killed Danny.”

Eva felt a chill run down her back. “Why would you do that? What did they ever do?”

“They got in the way!” Celina hissed, clenching her hands into fists. The runes on the wall flared like fires fed by a gust of wind. She stepped around the dais, toward Eva, closing the gap between them. “I used the powers of the gauntlet to place Devana in a trance for the Scrawl boy to steal the egg, but her motherly instincts proved too strong. I had no other choice. While I fought the gryphon, my hold on the boy weakened, and he used my secret knowledge of the Catacombs to escape. I feared then he would recall me when captured, but the Wonder’s rune magic overpowered his memory.”

“But why steal the egg at all? Why involve Ivan?” Eva asked.

Celina smiled her cold, hungry smile. “The theft of the egg and its subsequent discovery in the hands of the Scrawls would have made Rhylance go to war with those tattooed idiots. Unfortunately, Ivan brought the egg to you for whatever reason, and it hatched.”

“Why would you want to destroy the riders?” Eva asked. She continued to take small steps backward every time Celina spoke, doing her best to get as far away from the woman and the table as she could. Just being in its presence filled her with foreboding. Yet she couldn’t leave Ivan. “You’re the right wing of the Windsworn, second only to the lord commander!”

“Oh, I don’t want to destroy them,” Celina said. “I intend for them to serve me, when I rise to power. A great storm is coming, Eva, the like of which hasn’t been seen in a thousand years. With the Windsworn and Rhylance weakened by war with the Scrawls it will come to pass that much easier.”

Eva glanced at Ivan. She’d hoped distracting Celina would weaken the woman’s hold on Ivan, but the Scrawl boy continued to stare at the table. Its channels all filled with blood, and Eva wasn’t sure if it was a reflection from the walls or not, but it seemed to give off a faint glow of its own.

“And the others?” Eva asked. “What did Cassandra, Sigrid, or Danny ever do to you?”

“After that debacle at the court, I needed it to look like Ivan had made another attempt at the red gryphon’s life,” Celina said. “The Scrawl and your gryphon share a unique magical connection that allowed me to lead Fury from your room toward the Roost. Unfortunately, Uthred was snooping around and muddled things up. I used Ivan as a diversion, but by the time I got back to the Roost I’d lost control of your gryphon and was almost spotted by Cassandra and Sigrid.

“Danny was another unfortunate victim,” Celina said, shrugging like she was talking about a flower killed by an early frost and not the murder of a young, innocent boy. “The king and the Windsworn Council weren’t acting fast enough. And for the ritual to work the best I need both Ivan and the red gryphon, but your bond had grown too strong to overpower him — I had to lure you both here. Once again, Uthred would have ruined that if I hadn’t sent Tahl to free you and sworn him not to tell. And now, here you are.”

“I trusted you,” Eva said. Behind Celina, the trails of blood were definitely glowing now, the same fiery orange color as the giant runes. Ivan started chanting — harsh, angry words that froze Eva’s heart and filled her with dread — and the light grew brighter and brighter.

“Ivan, stop!” she shouted.

The boy ignored her.

“He can’t hear you, Eva,” Celina said. “My control over him is complete.” The chanting grew louder, and to Eva’s horror, Fury turned away from Celina and stared at the stone altar as well.

“Fury!” Eva tugged at him, but the gryphon ignored her, focused on the table. He started walking toward the Scrawl.

“Fury!” Eva screamed again with no effect. “IVAN, STOP!”

Celina blocked Eva’s path, arms folded across her chest, eyes burning with a feverish light. “You have two choices, Eva,” she said. “I spoke the truth when I said you had the potential for greatness. Join me, and no one will ever laugh at you again. You will be feared and respected and will answer only to me.”

“I don’t want that,” Eva said. She looked at Ivan and Fury, tears running down her face. “I don’t want people to fear me.”

Celina sighed. “Such a waste of potential. Just like your father.”

Seeing the look on Eva’ face, Celina let out a cold, harsh laugh. “Andor never told you, did he? That cocky, loud idiot was part of our expedition to the east. You don’t know how bad I wanted to shove a sword through him before we got back. And then, if that weren’t enough, he had an affair, and you came along. It almost tore the kingdom apart.”

Celina spat out the words like poison. Eva’s head spun. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her mouth went as dry as the stone beneath her feet.

“Who?” Eva managed to ask in a cracked voice.

“If you can’t see reason, then I guess you’ll die never knowing,” Celina said.

The block of stone glowed like an ingot of steel heated in the forge fire. Ivan’s voice rose, and he started shouting now, his voice ragged and hoarse from chanting. Fury sat down beside him, captivated by the glowing altar.

Eva rushed between them, shouting and shaking each in turn, but neither the boy nor the gryphon felt her presence. Anger rising, she turned to Celina, sword clenched tight in her hand.

The altar exploded without warning. Eva flew backward, shards of rock slicing her body and the air around her. She landed in a heap on the ground, several paces away. In place of the altar, a giant, midnight-colored golem shook the rock free and struggled to its feet.

Eva could only stare as it took one faltering step and then another. Clear of the debris, it stopped in front of Celina. The woman raised her glowing gauntlet and pointed at Eva.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Celina said, sounding genuinely disheartened. “This is where your story ends.”

The golem turned toward Eva, and her ragged breath caught in her chest. Built wider and taller than Seppo, the golem’s eyes burned like hot coals in the fire instead of Seppo’s deep, gentle blue. Its armor was built for war — thick-ridged plates designed to turn or catch a blade, inscribed with ancient, forgotten runes.

Eva looked at Fury and Ivan, who stared at her with blank expressions. The golem flexed its hands and curled them into fists in anticipation. Each finger was thicker than Eva’s arm.

“This will be quick,” Celina said from behind the golem. “I owe you that much, Eva.” The woman waved a careless hand toward her, the automaton watching her every move. “Kill her.”

The golem bounded forward, covering the dozen paces to Eva in less than four steps. Eva barely had time to grab her sword before it attacked. She threw herself to the side just in time, rolling up into crouch, weapon at the ready. Undeterred, the golem covered the space between them in a single step. It swooped down for her, but Eva was too quick. She dove between its leg and hacked at the small of its back with all her might. Her blade struck the iron armor with a clang, reverberating so hard in her hands that she almost dropped it.

“The Smelterborn is indestructible,” Celina said from across the chamber. “There is no escape. Soon, I will raise an army of them, and all of Altaris will bow before me!”

Eva backed away as the armored golem lumbered toward her. She managed a glance at Ivan and Fury, desperate for any help she could get. “Hey!” she shouted. “Snap out of it!”

Before she could see if the words registered, the golem lunged at her, forcing Eva to dive out of the way just in the nick of time again. When she recovered, she saw Ivan had the same blank look, but Fury had his head cocked to the side, studying her with some intent.

“Enough!” Celina shouted. Her impatience seemed to channel into the golem. It came at Eva with more intensity now, seeking to grab, stomp, or crush her any way possible. Each time, Eva stayed a half a step ahead of her opponent, sweat running down her face and soaking her uniform. Each time, the Smelterborn came at her just as fast and hard, showing no signs of tiring.

“Fury, help me!” she screamed, rolling to the side as a huge iron fist smashed into the rock, causing the ground to shake.

The gryphon took a hesitant step forward. “No!” Celina shouted, looking away from the golem to Fury. The fledgling paused, but so did the golem with Celina’s concentration split between them.

That gave Eva an idea. She retreated from the Smelterborn, all the while shouting at Fury. The golem followed her every move. She managed to maneuver it between her and Celina while keeping a direct line of sight to Fury. Each time he heard her voice, the gryphon shook his head, tail twitching and wings flailing, but Celina’s control held firm.

“Fury, please!” Eva shouted. She tore her eyes away from the golem to focus on the gryphon. “Help me!”

“Kill her now!” Celina shrieked.

Eva’s eyes met Fury’s, and she stared at him, seeing recognition dawn on his face. Too late.

In her moment of hesitation, the Smelterborn’s fist came out of nowhere. It struck Eva, and she flew across the chamber, hitting the stone floor hard and rolling.

Vision swimming and body aching, Eva tried to move as the golem strode toward her and picked her up by the waist in its iron hand. Weaponless, Eva pounded its cold, lifeless hand with her fists, knowing it was useless. The Smelterborn turned and walked toward Celina, holding Eva out in front of it like child showing its parent a toy. Through a dizzy, pain-wracked mind, Eva felt her breast bone burning and wondered if her chest had been crushed.

“I taught you well,” Celina said, shaking her head as the golem neared. “A pity you won’t listen to reason.”

The burning grew sharper, and Eva gritted her teeth and arched her back in the Smelterborn’s grip until she realized it wasn’t her body at all. The necklace. She tore at the collar of her uniform, scraped and bleedings fingers clawing to pull the Wonder free.

“Have you gone mad?” Celina asked as Eva tore at her clothing.

In one last desperate rip, Eva latched on to the chain and yanked the necklace free. The rose-colored light burned bright as the sun, and she twisted away, burying her face in her elbow.

Celina’s shrieks filled the chamber. “What is that? Get it! Get rid of it!”

The Smelterborn’s grip slackened, however, and Eva fell to the ground. Scrambling, she scampered out of the way as the golem floundered around. Free of being trampled, Eva grabbed the stone’s chain and thrust it up into the thing’s face. Celina screamed again, and the suit of armor threw its hand over its face, stumbling backward from the light.

A familiar scream cut through the din, and Eva saw a flash of copper as Fury leaped and struck the Smelterborn’s helm, almost knocking it off its feet.

“Get it, boy!” Eva yelled. Holding the Wonder aloft in front of her, other hand covering her eyes, Eva advanced on the Smelterborn and Celina, who hid herself behind the suit of armor, still shouting for it to attack.

Fury wheeled away and struck again, causing the Smelterborn to pull its hands from its face in an attempt to fend off the gryphon. The chain grew hot in Eva’s hand, and the light flared brighter. Celina’s screams of pain stabbed at Eva’s ears, her world consisting of nothing but light, deafening shrieks, and heat.

“Please!” Celina begged. In the shade of her hand, Eva saw the woman fall to her knees behind the Smelterborn. “Make it stop. I’ll do anything you want, just make it stop burning!”

Eva paused and lowered the Wonder, shielding the light with her other hand. Almost at once, Celina’s screams ended, and the golem paused. From behind the golem’s legs, Eva saw Celina’s face curl into a snarl.

“CRUSH HER!”

Arms wide, the Smelterborn leaped forward. Eva dropped to one knee and buried her face in her free arm, thrusting the Wonder above her like a shield. A bone-shaking roar spit the cavern. Celina screamed so loud Eva’s ears rang. The sound of thunder filled the air, and the ground shook.

Silence filled the chamber.

Eva dropped the burning necklace as the light from the stone faded. Head spinning, she sat the Wonder on the ground beside her, using both hands to keep herself from tipping over. As her eyes adjusted to the dying orange light, she saw the Smelterborn lying on the ground. Before her eyes, its armor began to rust and corrode away. A pale, twisted hand stuck out from beneath it.

The sound of feathers signaled Fury landing beside Eva. Seeing Celina’s body trapped beneath the golem, she leaned over and retched.

“Eva!” Ivan’s confused voice cut through the silence, sounding almost as dazed as she was. “Where are we? What’s happening?”

“Celina…” Eva muttered, her voice distant in her ears. “Smelter…thing.” Eva’s vision jilted and swam even more, white stars popping up everywhere she looked. She shivered, drenched in a cold sweat. A part of her worried she might lose consciousness and tried to lean away from her pool of sick.

“Good…boy,” Eva said. Her hand slipped from Fury’s head, and oblivion embraced her.

Chapter Thirty

When Eva awoke, the first thing she recognized was light. Not the rose-colored light of her Wonder, but warm, soft sunshine, which didn’t make any sense given that she was in a cavern. Where was the Smelterborn?

Gasping, Eva shot up. Her head pounded in protest, and the entire left side of her body throbbed. The pain snatched away her breath. Wide eyed, Eva looked around and found herself lying in a bed, her dirty, blood-stained tunic replaced by a large white shirt.

“Good timing.”

Twisting her head around, Eva saw Andor enter the room. He studied her for a moment before taking a couple of timid steps to a chair by Eva’s bedside.

“How do you feel?” he asked, sitting down.

“My head hurts,” Eva said, squinting. “Everything hurts.”

Realization struck her like a lightning bolt. “Sigrid! Tahl! Fury!”

Hearing his name, the gryphon’s head appeared at the foot of Eva’s bed, and he leaped on top of it, chirping and flapping his wings in joy.

Eva smiled and ran her fingers through his soft, dark fur until another thought crossed her.

“Ivan! Lord Commander, Ivan was innocent; he didn’t do anything! Please, you can’t execute him, he —”

The lord commander held up a hand. “Everyone is fine. Ivan suffered no lasting harm and has been sent back to his own people, to cure any lingering ailments in his mind. He has been fully pardoned by the king.”

Eva took a couple of shallow breaths and realized she felt almost as bad as she had after Sigrid’s beating. She blinked hard, trying to focus on Andor’s face.

“Tahl made it out to get help,” he said. “When Uthred and Lord Vyr found you, they thought you were dead.”

“Lord Vyr?” Eva said, confused. “What was he…”

“You should have learned already that he’s more than meets the eye,” Andor said. “He was helping Uthred search the Catacombs when Tahl ran into them — it’s fortunate because I’m told Tahl seemed to be under the impressions that Uthred was the one who was responsible for the attacks. He almost drew steel against the commander until Lord Vyr intervened.”

Eva blushed. “It’s not Tahl’s fault,” she said. “I told him and Sigrid and Wynn that it was Uthred who’d been behind the attacks.”

“No harm came from your mistake,” the lord commander said. “And honestly, I can’t say I blame you given Uthred’s attitude toward you. He’s extreme at times, but his loyalty is as unwavering as this mountain.”

Eva couldn’t help herself. “Yes, but so was Celina’s, at least I thought.”

Andor’s face darkened. “True. She betrayed everything she stood for.”

Not knowing what to say, Eva bunched her sheets in her hands and nodded.

“I’ve heard Tahl and Sigrid’s account, as well as Ivan’s,” the lord commander continued. “But you’re the only one who can finish the story.”

Eva swallowed hard and recounted the dark moments in the chamber as best she could. When she got to the part about her father, she faltered. Tears splashed down her face, and her voice caught in her throat.

“Is it…is it true?” she asked Andor. “Am I a…a bastard?”

The lord commander’s jaw grew tight, and he stared at Eva, saying nothing.

“Answer me!” Eva screamed, punching the bed. Her head reeled, and she almost collapsed backward onto her pillow.

“Yes, Eva,” Andor said. “Your father was a man named Aleron, my youngest brother.”

“How could you not tell me?” Eva asked, voice broken. “How could Soot not tell me? You storming liars! I hate you!”

Caught in a burning rage, Eva struck the lord commander across the face with the palm of her hand hard enough she thought she’d might have broken her wrist. Andor just stared back at her, face as stoic and impassive as the mountain he commanded. The rage died as quickly as it came, leaving Eva with a dull emptiness in her chest and a realization for what she’d just done.

“I deserved that,” Andor said in a thick voice. “What we did was wrong, Eva. It was wrong to deceive you. But we did it —”

“They did it because they were loyal friends who obeyed the orders of a selfish, proud fool.”

King Adelar stood in the doorway. Before Eva could even begin to think of what to say, he crossed the room and knelt by her bedside. “Please, Evelyn,” he said, taking her clenched fist between his hands and bowing his head. “If you have to blame someone, have to hate someone, let it be me.”

A sob tore itself from her chest, and tears poured down Eva’s face. “Why?” she managed to ask. “Why did you do this to me?”

Adelar looked up, and Eva saw tears glistening in his cold, blue eyes. “I cannot be sorry enough,” he said. “I’ve been…trying to tell you, and when I heard what happened in the Catacombs, that it might be too late —”

A terrible thought crossed Eva’s mind. “Who was my mother?” she asked, voice catching in her throat. “What did you do to her?”

“She was my wife, the queen,” Adelar said. “She died giving birth to you. Blinded by the pain of her loss and anger at my brother’s betrayal, I sent you away. Marien’s death almost destroyed me. I — I couldn’t bear to have a reminder of her around, a reminder of what Aleron had done. I banished him from Rhylance and ordered you taken from the palace.”

“You made me an orphan,” Eva said through her tears.

“Soot is a close friend of our family,” Andor said. “He agreed to take you in and raise you. Eva — he hated me for lying to you; he wanted to tell you so many times. He wrote me almost every year around your birthday, but I wouldn’t let him. Don’t blame him for this; he loves you like his own.”

“I still don’t understand,” Eva said. “Why did all this happen? Why would my father betray his family and his king?”

“Love is a powerful thing,” Adelar said. “Before the Great Eastern Expedition left, Aleron and Marien were betrothed. While they were gone — Aleron, Andor, Soot, Celina, and the rest — your grandfather, my father, the king grew sick and died. Over two years passed, and we didn’t hear a word from the company. I waited and waited, thinking they’d all been killed. I’d lost my father and thought I’d lost both my brothers as well. Marien…Marien was a comfort in those dark days. We fell in love, and she became my queen.”

“When we returned from the east and Aleron found out what happened, he wanted to kill Adelar,” Andor said. “I love your father more than anything, but he was…headstrong, rash. He was the best of us, the best of the Windsworn, and he knew it. His pride made him…difficult at times. Over the following weeks, Aleron withdrew from all of us, but somewhere along the line he and Marien began writing each other in secret and then meeting. You were the result.”

“You can understand my anger when Marien and Aleron came to me and confessed what they’d done,” the king said. “By rights, I could have had them both executed, but something stayed my hand… Looking at you now, I know why.”

Eva snorted and wiped the snot from her face. “Huh. How benevolent.”

Adelar shot her a pained look. “And so, I exiled Aleron. Marien and I tried to put it behind us, but weeks later she realized she was pregnant. You know the rest.”

“So, my father never even knew I existed?” Eva asked. For some reason, that hurt worse than anything else.

“Aleron left before, and no one has heard from him since,” Andor said. “Trust me when I say if your father had known about you, an army couldn’t have kept him out of Rhylance.”

“Lord Vyr!” Eva said, recalling her conversation. “He told me…he said my father was alive!”

“He very well could be,” Andor said. “If nothing else, Aleron was a fighter. I don’t believe the Windsworn or anyone from Rhylance have seen him since, however.”

Eva stared out the window, lost in an endless sky of hurt and confusion. Everything made so much sense, and yet nothing made sense. Everything she’d thought she was, everything she’d been, was all a lie. She unclenched her hand and pulled it away from the king and into her lap.

“I know your forgiveness is something neither of us, but especially not I, ever deserve,” the king said. “But I will do whatever I can to make this right between us, Niece.”

Eva jerked at being called niece, like she’d been stabbed. “I…I’d like to be alone now.”

The king rose to his feet and nodded. Andor stood as well. “Soot should be here soon and will want to see you if you are able.”

“I’d like that,” Eva said in a small voice, not looking at either of the men.

She suddenly felt exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up to find the last two days had been a bad dream — or, better yet, to wake up in Soot’s cottage like none of it had ever happened. But then she thought of all she’d learned and accomplished, of the friendships she’d made, and especially of Fury. He nudged her hand with his break from the other side of the bed, and Eva knew at once that she wouldn’t trade her bond with the gryphon for anything.

Eva heard one set of footsteps leave the room, while the other paused.

“Eva,” Andor said. She didn’t turn around. “I’m proud of you. Your father would have been proud of you as well.”

The praise struck her bittersweet, and as the door closed and she and Fury were alone, Eva curled into a ball. Tears of equal parts relief, pride, and pain ran down her face, and Eva cried until sleep overtook her.

The next morning, Tahl, Sigrid, and Wynn came to visit. They filed in the room, shy at first until Eva beckoned for them to come over. “It’s not my funeral; stop acting like I’ve died.”

Needing no encouragement, they joined her bedside, Wynn rushing forward to get there first, followed by Sigrid, hobbling along on crutches, her leg bound in straps and wooden shafts to keep it still. Tahl brought up the rear, unusually quiet and unsure. Eva caught his eye, and they quickly looked away from one another.

“You’re the talk of the Gyr!” Wynn said. She reached out to pet Fury, who was lying at the foot of the bed, dozing. The gryphon raised his head enough to make a lazy snap at Wynn’s hand, and she pulled it back, frowning.

“Oh no,” Eva said. “What are they saying now?”

“They’re saying we’re storming heroes, and you’re the biggest hero of the bunch!” Sigrid said. Her face split in a rare grin, and she leaned forward over the straightened leg and gave Eva a slap on the back. “That must’ve been some fight — the lord commander told us about the golem. I’m jealous I missed out on taking a crack at it.”

“We’re fine, I promise,” Eva said, then added with a wink, “that golem was nothing compared to you.”

“Eva, look!” Wynn said. She lifted up the corner of her cloak to show off the winged badge pinned to her uniform. “I passed the fledgling trials!”

“I knew you could do it,” Eva said, smiling at the girl. She started to say something else, and then a sickening thought struck her. “Oh no…I missed the trials!”

Sigrid threw her head back and laughed, and Eva shot her a quizzical look. “Why is that funny?”

“Eva, do you think the lord commander was going to kick you out of the Gyr after what you went through?” Tahl said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You made it through far worse than anything the other first recruits had to pass.”

Embarrassed, Eva mumbled something, face heating up. Truth be told, the last thing she’d thought of was the trails, until Wynn brought it up. The previous night had passed mostly sleepless as she tossed and turned, body aching, mind still reeling by the bitter truths she’d learned from Andor and the king. She’d made up her mind that when her friends came to visit she’d tell them about it. No matter how much she wanted it to, she knew the word would get out and her parentage wouldn’t be a secret for long. Yet now that they were here before her, Eva hesitated.

“Eva, is it true?” Wynn said in a hushed voice, eyes wide. Sigrid and Tahl both shot her a stern look, but the younger girl ignored them. Eva knew then it was already too late. Like it or not, she’d have to face this issue in the light rather than burying it away like her impulse suggested. Either way, she’d come to realize in the early hours of the morning that this wasn’t something she could untangle in a night, nor anytime soon.

“Shut up, Wynn,” Sigrid said.

“There’s a rumor going around that Lord Commander Andor is your uncle,” Wynn continued, ignoring the other two. “That you’re the king’s niece.”

Eva forced a dry laugh. “Well, if the lord commander is my uncle, the king would have to be, too, wouldn’t he?”

Wynn’s eyes grew even wider, and for once she seemed at a loss for words. “Holy sky! It’s true!”

Sigrid gave a low whistle. Tahl, for the first time Eva had ever seen him, didn’t seem to know what to say or do, his usually easy confidence gone.

“It is,” Eva said, the words sounding strange coming out of her. “But I’m still me,” she added, not sure if she was trying to convince herself or them. No matter who her parents were and what tragedy her family held, she was still Eva, the blacksmith’s assistant and Windsworn-in-training.

Unbidden, she began retelling the conversation between the lord commander and the king to her friends. The raw emotion of it all flared up, and she laid herself bare in between tears and encouragement from the others. It still hurt, but it didn’t cut her as deep as it had the day before, learning it all for the first time.

“And that’s it,” Eva said at the end. “Now you know the whole story.” She looked from face to face. Wynn still stared in amazement, and Sigrid’s brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of it all.

Eva felt drained, watching them, waiting for their reaction. Nobody knew quite what to say, and when she looked to Tahl for some kind of response, his eyes darted away.

“This doesn’t change anything between us,” Eva said.

Wynn, surprisingly, still seemed at a loss for words, but Sigrid broke into a grin. “I’ll still go the rounds with you in the circle whenever you want, your Highness.”

“That’s not funny,” Eva said, lips twitching in a smile. “I’m just Eva, and don’t you forget it.” She looked at Tahl again, and he cleared his throat. Sigrid caught the glance between them and pulled herself up on her feet, fixing her crutches underneath her.

“C’mon, Wynn,” she said. “Let’s let Eva get some rest.”

Wynn started following the older girl out then paused when she saw Tahl wasn’t coming. “Hey!” she said, motioning to him. “Let’s — ow!”

The younger girl hopped on one foot and glared at Sigrid. “Sorry, still getting used to using these crutches,” Sigrid said, waving one in the air. “Tahl will catch up with us.”

Eva felt a flash of excitement, then trepidation and nervousness as the door closed behind the two girls, leaving her alone in the room with Tahl. She cleared her throat and focused on Fury lying at the end of the bed, not sure what to say. Back in the dark of the Catacombs, it’d seemed so easy and simple. Now, here in the light, that kiss seemed a thousand years away, a fairytale story about two people in another life.

Tahl sat down and leaned over to brush a strand of Eva’s golden hair out of her face. “I’m…glad you’re okay,” he said. “They wouldn’t let me go back down into the caves to look for you, and when they brought you out I thought…”

He trailed off, and Eva saw him swallow hard out of the corner of her eye. Say something, you fool, she thought to herself. But the harder she tried to come up with something, the more her mind went blank. A few moments of uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Tahl’s hand rested on the edge of the bed. Knowing she had to do something, Eva reached over and rested hers on top of it.

“Eva,” he began, “That…moment, down there in the Catacombs. I —”

Eva prepared herself for him to say it’d all been a big mistake then decided she didn’t want to hear it out loud, even if it was probably true.

“You don’t have to say anything, Tahl,” Eva cut in. “I understand.”

Although it was the last thing she wanted to do, she turned and looked at him. Relief flooded the sharp lines of his face, like a knife tearing right through Eva’s chest.

“We can act like it never happened,” she said, trying to get the words out as fast as she could, to get them over with. She pulled her hand back and felt tears welling in her eyes. “I’m not going to hold it over you. Let’s just —”

Tahl’s fingertips lifted her chin to meet his eyes. He looked at her for a second and brushed a tear away with his thumb. “I was going to say I never want to feel like I’ve lost you again. I… I care about you. A lot. But now that you’re — I mean, now that you know…”

Eva laughed in surprise and clamped a hand to her mouth when it came out as an unbelieving snort. Feeling the heat pulse from her face, she glanced down. “I’m just Eva,” she said. “I already told you: none of that changes who I am.”

He pulled her face up again and leaned over. She felt her breath quicken as they drew close.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Tahl said in a low voice.

Eva didn’t think any kiss could have been better than their first. She was wrong.

Chapter Thirty-One

Eva examined herself in the mirror of her quarters. She reached behind her back to secure the chain of her mother’s Wonder. The stone twinkled, giving of a reassuring light that filled Eva with a comforting warmth. Why it had destroyed Celina’s golem was anyone’s guess. Eva tried to leave the explaining and deciphering of that dark night to higher minds than herself, determined to regain some semblance of a normal life in the aftermath.

“How do I look?” she asked Fury, who was sitting on her bed. The gryphon dipped his copper head in approval.

With a long sigh, she buckled on her sword belt, adjusting it over her uniform just so. Another deep breath and exhale calmed her fluttering nerves.

“I don’t know what you’re all worked up about,” Sigrid said. “You’re a storming hero! Now hurry up; we’re going to be late for the ceremony!”

Sigrid wore her fine silver chain mail and the other armor of the Windsworn. Her hair was done up in an elaborate set of braids, a couple of feathers thrown in for good measure so that Sigrid looked like a fierce bird of prey herself. Eva doubted she would ever look so at ease in the trappings of war and shifted to redistribute the unusual weight of her own attire.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Eva said. “People don’t expect a hero to trip on their own scabbard or forget the words or —”

“Eva,” Sigrid said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. This is a lot easier than fighting a golem!”

At the moment, Eva thought she’d take her chances with the golem, but she put on a brave face anyway. Together, she and Fury followed Sigrid out of the barracks, toward the upper levels. Halfway there, Tahl waited for them at a junction in the hallway. He looked like he’d stepped right out of a Windsworn tapestry in his polished silver breastplate and royal-blue cape.

“You look…” His eyes were glued on Eva, but Sigrid gave a sharp cough and Wynn folded her arms, frowning. “You all look stunning,” Tahl finished.

“Right, right,” Sigrid said, jostling between Tahl and Eva with Wynn close behind. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Together, the four of them climbed the stairs past the Roost, to Eleanor’s Landing, the open peak of the mountain. Outside, the sun shone down on a clear, crisp day. Eva swallowed at the rows of Windsworn standing at attention. A long row of guards in polished silver armor and wing helmets formed a tunnel all the way to the lord commander and the rest of the Council. When they saw Fury and the four people step into the sunlight, a rousing cheer when up.

Wynn looked at Eva, a big grin splitting her face. “Told you it wouldn’t be bad.”

Eva allowed herself a small smile, and they passed between the lines of armored Windsworn, who pulled back their spears as she went by. Looking every bit royalty in their gold and silver armor, Adelar and Andor watched them approach. To their left, Soot stuck out like a sore thumb in his plain clothes, sun shining off his bald pate. Even so, his presence reassured Eva, and she felt a small smile tugging on her face.

A strange feeling crossed her as she realized her entire family, both old and new, were gathered here. Although she’d promised herself to learn to forgive, Eva wasn’t sure what to think of her two uncles, or how to act around them. At least now, in an official capacity, it was easy just to be a recruit to the lord commander and a subject to the king.

The four of them approached the raised stone area where the lord commander, Soot, the king, and the Council stood and stopped, bringing their fists to their chests in salute. Both Andor and Adelar returned the gesture, and then the king held up a hand to silence the cheering.

“Throughout our history, the Windsworn have been our mightiest champions — the brave defenders of Rhylance. Men, women, and gryphons whose courage and skill at arms keep our people safe,” the king began. “The four before you today exemplify these qualities, and we honor them for their courage in facing our enemies and safeguarding peace. Step forward.”

Eva felt her mouth go dry and her knees weaken as she stepped onto the raised stone area and sank to one knee, head bowed. A moment later, she felt Andor slip a medal around her neck, and her heart leaped. Glancing sideways, she saw him kneel down and place one around Fury’s neck as well, the gryphon’s head held high and proud.

“Arise,” the king said. The four of them stood, and everyone but Eva and Fury took a step back. “Rhylance owes you a great debt for your service. As long as our people walk the earth and our gryphons soar in the skies, your deeds will not be forgotten.”

The crowd burst out in a roaring cheer for several moments until the king and the lord commander raised their hands again.

“But we have one more order of business this day,” Andor said, his voice carrying across the open rock. “One among these four has proved herself worthy to be called Windsworn.”

Eva swallowed and felt her chest tighten. She glanced to the Council and saw them, the same men and women who had voted against her, nodding in approval. Even Uthred, catching her in his stony gaze, gave Eva a curt nod of approval. On the other side of the king and lord commander, even old Lord Vyr had joined the congregation, cackling and clapping, his remaining strands of white hair blowing wild in the breeze.

Eva looked between Andor and Adelar. The king smiled, an expression that looked unfamiliar and forced, but warm nonetheless. Even if she couldn’t completely forgive them, she knew she couldn’t hate these men.

The lord commander drew his sword and touched it to Eva’s shoulder, then Fury’s. “I am the sword in the sky,” he said.

“I am the shield in the storm,” Eva replied.

“On the wings of gryphons I fly.”

Eva took a deep breath.

“And to the wind I am sworn.”

Want to know what happened before Windsworn?

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Windswept

Copyright

Windswept: Gryphon Riders Trilogy Book Two

Copyright © 2018

♠ Derek Alan Siddoway ♠

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the Derek Alan Siddoway. Thank you for respecting the author's hard work.

Permissions can be obtained through d_sidd@undauntedauthors.com

All characters, places and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real places, events, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First Edition, Ebook

Published October 2017 by Derek Alan Siddoway

Chapter One

“This one’s dead too.”

Eva looked at Sigrid who knelt beside another one of the bodies, a look of anger and vengeance stitched onto her already stern face. An old man lay still on the ground beside her, the late season flies buzzing around the dried blood on the back of his head. It was mid-autumn and the sun still shone bright on Rhylance’s eastern frontier. A cloying smell of death filled the air from the heat.

Eva scanned the remains of the small outpost through the haze of dust and smoke. Charred, half-burned shacks were the only remnants of a once thriving trading village, the shells of its occupants lying wherever the arrows and spears felled them. Men and older boys made up most of the dead, along with one or two old women. Eva guessed the children and younger women had all been carried off as slaves.

“Juarag?” she asked Sigrid, twisting her hand around the hilt of her sheathed sword.

The dark-haired girl snorted. “What else? Fourth one this month. I don’t understand how those stinking cat people are hiding from our patrols. We’ve had riders in the sky all over the frontier.”

Fury let out a disgruntled cackle and clicked his beak. It didn’t take much to rile the young gryphon and Eva knew Fury had been looking forward to a fight almost as much as she’d hoped to avoid one. Instead, they ended up with the worst of both circumstances — no fight because there was no one left to protect. The orange sunlight winding through the smoke cast Fury’s blood red feathers in a fiery glow, making him look like some kind of demon as he clawed at the earth and flapped his wings in frustration.

Eva wandered through the remnants of the outpost one last time, lips moving in silence as she double-checked her count of the dead. She winced, hearing the far-off bark of a coyote, no doubt drawn by the smell of blood and death. The king’s patrols would bury the deceased, Eva knew — it was her and Sigrid’s job to scout and report, nothing more. It still bothered her that some of the scavengers would have their turn before the dead were put to rest.

Even now, after almost two full years among the Windsworn, Eva fought to breathe through her mouth and fight back the rising gorge bubbling up from her stomach. Meanwhile, Sigrid strolled through the corpses looking for tracks the way a young girl might stroll through a field searching for wildflowers. Eva didn’t know how her friend did it. She no longer had nightmares for days after upon seeing a dead body, but still felt her skin crawling whenever something like this happened.

Which seemed to be happening more and more of late. It used to be, or so the veteran Windsworn said, that the Juarag only raided in the height of summer, and focused more on stealing than killing. Now, however, they weren’t so much raids as full-blown attacks. Caught between the anvil of Rhylance’s Windswept mountains and the hammer of the Juarag coming west on the plains, the frontier had been hit hard.

“Not a single dead Juarag,” Eva muttered. By the look of things, the villagers hadn’t even had time to arm themselves with what little weaponry they might have had. Eva doubted they’d even wounded any of the raiders, let alone killed one. On the backs of their gigantic sabercats, the Juarag were opponents even a gryphon rider thought twice about tangling with.

“Seen enough?” Sigrid asked.

Eva nodded. She’d seen more than enough.

Sigrid swung into the saddle of her brown gryphon, Sven. Eva strode over to Fury, who was still sniffing around the buildings and stepped into the saddle strapped to his back where feather and fur met. Although not yet fully matured, he was almost the size of Sven and, if his wings and talons were any indicator, would easily surpass the brown before he was done growing. As soon as she settled into place, Eva felt a calm that chased away the anxiety of the battlefield. On Fury, there was hardly anything in Rhylance that could hurt her. Except a Juarag on a sabercat, she reminded herself, once again twisting the hilt of her sword and scanning the smoking ruin for any sign of movement.

“It can’t have happened that long ago,” Sigrid said. “What do you say we take a look east before heading back to make our report?”

Eva wanted to say that it was technically against their orders, but Sigrid outranked her and the dark-haired girl generally did whatever she storming wanted to, anyway. So, in spite of the nagging nervousness clenching her gut, Eva shrugged. “As long as we’re quick about it. You know we’ll catch hell if we’re back late after some wild goose chase.”

Sigrid grinned through her mess of braids and her eyes shone from behind the black liner she wore to give herself an even more intimidating look. “Of course, grandma.”

Sven leapt into the air, spreading dust and smoke everywhere. Eva felt a jerk as Fury followed close behind, wings beating with unnecessary exertion to catch up to the other gryphon and defend his pride. Airborne, Eva looked down at the village once more, hoping to find some sign of life even though she knew better by now. Nothing stirred below.

Sigrid swung her gryphon eastward and Eva followed, the early evening sun warm on the back of her mail shirt. Ahead of them lay nothing but rolling hills and empty grassland: the western edge of the Endless Plain, home of the Juarag.

On instinct, Eva glanced back and saw a black dot drawing toward them. Anyone but a Windsworn might have brushed it off as a raven or other carrion bird winging toward the aftermath of the raid, but Eva knew better.

“Rider incoming!” she shouted to Sigrid. But the girl was too far ahead to hear. Instead of calling out again, Eva reached down for a small horn slung on the side of Fury’s saddle and gave it a single sharp blast. Sigrid and Sven turned almost at once, and Fury banked with them, soaring on an updraft.

The figure drew closer and Eva recognized the charcoal black of Belarus. The gryphon had once belonged to a Windsworn commander named Celina, a woman who taught Eva almost everything she knew about combat…and then tried to kill her after becoming possessed by an ancient relic. Eva and Fury managed to defeat Celina with the aid of Eva’s own relic, a glowing white stone that had once belonged to her mother. Celina died in the exchange, crushed beneath a giant golem she’d brought to life. In a strange twist of fate, Belarus’ new rider was another of Celina’s victims, not a Windsworn, but a young Scrawl from the cold south.

As soon as she recognized the gryphon and his rider, Sigrid wheeled to the ground, Eva and Fury close behind. They landed and waited, still mounted as Belarus glided to the ground nearby. A teenage boy with blue rune tattoos covering his head, face and arms peeked around the gryphon’s neck.

“Where in the sky are you two headed?” he asked.

Sigrid frowned. “I don’t take orders from a Scrawl, Ivan. Even one who pretends to be a gryphon rider.”

Although Sigrid was only posturing, Eva knew Ivan riding Belarus was a point of contention among many of the other riders. Only Windsworn or the royal family were allowed to ride gryphons but when it came down to it, the creatures were free to bond with whomever they wished. Belarus and Ivan’s relationship was a strange one to be sure, but beyond contest.

Ivan’s face split into a wide grin and he hopped from Belarus’ back and walked over to them. Eva smiled as well, knowing how much he liked to rattle Sigrid’s nerves whenever he got the chance.

“Hello, Ivan.”

The Scrawl boy winked at Eva. “Hey, Eva. Going for a little evening flight?”

“Who’s asking?” Sigrid cut in, still frowning.

Ivan held up his rune-marked hands. “Just me. The Wing Commander sent me out here to check on the two of you, see if everything was okay.”

“Did you see the village?” Eva asked.

The smile faded from Ivan’s face. “Yeah. Guess not.”

“We’re handling things just fine,” Sigrid said. “If you can keep up, we were going to take a little peek out east before sunset.”

“Sounds like a fine idea to me!” Ivan said. “Lead on, fearless rider!”

“This is between the three of us,” Eva warned the Scrawl as he returned to Belarus. “Vance doesn’t need to know.”

“Eva, whatever happened to that quiet girl who never put a toe out of line?” Ivan asked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “The Wing Commander doesn’t need to know? For shame!”

“It’s not my fault you’re all bad influences,” Eva said. She shot Ivan a jaunty grin as Fury gathered himself beneath her to launch into the air. “Keep up, rune-boy!”

Fury and Sven took flight, pumping their powerful wings to leave Belarus and Ivan in the dust. But the older gryphon and younger boy weren’t about to be outdone. For partaking in very little flight training, Ivan held his own and gave Belarus his head. Although the older gryphon lacked some of the the raw strength and stamina of his younger counterparts, Belarus knew how to ride the thermals and soon caught up, soaring effortlessly above Eva, Sigrid and their gryphons.

“Hope you two can keep up!” Ivan yelled down at the others

Screeching in challenge, Fury shifted his wings and shot straight up toward the Scrawl. Breathless, Eva clutched to the saddle holds, stomach dropping and heart leaping all at once. Even after months and months of flying, she still hadn’t gotten entirely used to her gryphon’s wild antics.

The three gryphons wheeled and twisted around one another, enjoying the warm skies and endless expanse of open air. Eva let out a whoop and Fury climbed higher and higher, only to pin his wings down and dive toward the earth. They sped downward faster and faster, tears streaming from Eva’s face as she screamed to keep her stomach from tightening into a knot.

With only yards to go before they crashed into the golden prairie, Fury snapped his wings open, streaking over the ground so that the grass parted behind them like a wave. Eva laughed and stretched out her arms above her head. It’d taken her a long time to get used to it, but nothing matched the freedom and exhilaration of gryphon flight.

Fury tipped his right wing and they drifted over the plains, the gryphons front talons and rear paws skimming the tops of the golden grass. Still elated from the dive, Eva looked back and saw Sigrid and Ivan speeding down toward her. She wasn’t sure, but it sounded like they were shouting. Puzzled, Eva drew Fury to a halt and he beat his wings to hold them in position.

“Below you!” Sigrid yelled, close enough to hear.

Fury wheeled around and Eva glanced over his side. A dark figure rose in the tall grass below, twirling something overhead faster and faster until it was a circular blur. Just as the person released whatever it was they were spinning, the gryphon twisted to the side. Not fast enough.

Eva felt the length of rawhide rope and stone weight smack into her gryphon’s legs. Twisting and tangled in the bola, Fury careened into the dirt.

They landed hard, the impact jarring Eva to the side, even with her leg straps still secured. Guided by instinct born from hours upon hours of practice, her hands grasped the two quick release buckles on her legs as Fury thrashed to free himself from the weighted rope. Ripping the last strap open, Eva kicked herself loose and leaped free from the gryphon.

As she pulled her sword free, their assailant burst from the grass in front of her, spear at the ready. Eva swallowed hard, fighting the rising fear in her. It was a Juarag woman about her own age with a wild look in her eye.

The two circled each other for a long moment. Eva studied her opponent, trying to decide how to get inside that spear’s awfully long reach. She waited for her opponent to attack, knowing that making the first move would play into the Juarag warrior’s advantage. Whooshing sounds marked Ivan and Sigrid’s landing nearby and the two rushed to join their companion. Sigrid let out a snarl and came to Eva’s side, her own spear at the ready. Out of the corner of her eye, Eva saw Ivan struggling to hack through the tangled mess of rope wrapped around Fury as the gryphon continued to struggle.

Belarus and Sven landed behind the Juarag girl. “We have you surrounded,” Eva said. She doubted the other girl understood her, but wanted to at least give her the chance to surrender first.

To her shock, the Juarag nodded and rose out of her crouched stance, jabbing her spear in the ground beside her. “I give up,” she said, in a perfect rendition of their tongue.

Eva stared, confused and unsure how to respond .“What in the sky?” she heard Sigrid mutter beside her. Before she could think of a response, however, a blur of copper charged past her toward the Juarag.

“Fury, no!”

Enraged at being knocked out the sky, the gryphon dipped his head and flipped the Juarag woman into the air. As soon as she hit the ground, Fury was on top of her, slamming his front talons over her arms to pin her to the ground.

“Fury!” Eva shouted again, rushing forward to her gryphon. Sides heaving, Fury looked at her through narrow slits of his yellow eyes, but refrained from tearing the Juarag apart.

Whatever calm the Juarag woman had before was gone. Her sun-browned face looked pale in the dying light, the whites of her eyes stark and large. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she stared up at the angry gryphon above her, the wicked curve of Fury’s beak less than a foot over her.

“Fury, back,” Eva commanded. The gryphon continued to stare at his prey, hissing.

"Back!” Eva shouted again. Fury’s head whipped in his rider’s direction but Eva didn’t back down. After a long moment, Fury let out a disgruntled hiss and stepped away, but his eyes never left the Juarag woman.

“Do you speak our language?” Eva asked.

The Juarag nodded. “I know your tongue, sky girl.”

“What are you doing out here?” Sigrid demanded, pointing her spear down at the woman’s throat. “Were you part of the raid on the outpost? Are you alone?”

The Juarag woman shook her head, and Eva realized they were close to the same age. “I am…not raider,” the Juarag said. “I have come for you, the sky warriors.”

Eva, Sigrid and Ivan shared a glance.

“What do you mean you’ve come for us?” Eva asked. “Do you mean you’re a scout?”

“I am not Juarag warrior,” the young woman said. “I have come alone, seeking the…” she paused, as if struggling to think of the word. “The Windswear.”

“Windsworn?” Eva suggested. The woman nodded.

“Well, you’ve found them,” Sigrid said, not moving her spear tip from the Juarag’s throat. “Now what do you want?”

“I have a message,” the Juarag woman said. She took a deep breath and her halting words seemed to come easier. “I have come at the bidding of a man who was once one of you. He has a warning.”

An unexplainable tingling sensation spread across Eva’s body. “What man?” she asked in a rush. “What is the message?”

“His name is Aleron,” the Juarag woman said. “His message is for your commander An-Andor only.”

“Holy storm.” Eva felt the words pass her lips but it was like someone else had said them. She staggered backward and stumbled, landing hard on the ground.

“Aleron?” Ivan said. “Eva, wasn’t that your father’s name?”

Chapter Two

Eva looked for something to focus on as the ground reeled beneath her. Ivan rushed to her side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She wondered if she was dreaming, but if so she didn’t seem to be waking up.

Snarling, Sigrid forced her spear point back against the Juarag woman’s throat until it pressed against her skin. “Where did you learn that name?”

The young warrior shook her head. “No tricks, I swear it.”

Ivan helped Eva back to her feet and she clung to him, mind whirling. “How — how do you know that name?”

“That is who sent me,” the woman said, swallowing against the tip of the spear at her throat. “I must speak with your Commander Andor.”

Eva and Sigrid exchanged a glance. However this woman knew these names, they couldn’t just leave her out here without questioning. The Juarag seemed to know it, too and smiled at their look. “You will take me to him, yes?”

Sigrid jerked her head to Eva. “Ivan, keep an eye on her.” She pulled back her spear and Ivan stepped forward, cracking his fingers and stretching. The woman sat up, but he wagged a finger at her.

“Uh uh, you stay right there,” the Scrawl said. Muttering something under his breath, Ivan squeezed his hand then opened his fingers, revealing a small fire burning on his palm. The woman hissed and made a sign across her head as if to protect herself from his magic, but did as she was told.

“Eva, I know what she said, but it’s got to be some kind of trap,” Sigrid said in a low voice once they’d walked a few paces away. “There’s just no way…”

“We don’t know that,” Eva replied, sounding more irritated than she’d intended. Even now, she fought back a rising hope inside her, tried to jam it down and crush it before it could take hold. “Even if she hadn’t said those names, she’s still Juarag. We have to take her back to the Wing Commander.”

Sigrid studied her for a moment and Eva knew her friend could see right through her reasoning. At last Sigrid nodded. “We’ll bind her and put her on the back of Belarus, then. Let’s be quick — the light’s about gone.”

Although they could see as well at night as most other creatures, gryphons preferred to fly during the day. Eva glanced up at the sun, already dipping behind the Windswepts. As it was, they’d already be past dark returning to camp and she knew Vance wouldn’t be happy. But then again, he wasn’t counting on them bringing a prisoner, either.

Eva drew her sword while Ivan and Sigrid tied the Juarag woman’s hands behind her back and led her to Belarus. The gryphon hissed as she approached, but a stern look from Ivan made him hold still as they helped her onto his back.

“You try anything and he’ll dump you off,” Sigrid warned. “And it’s a long way down without wings.”

The Juarag nodded, clearly displeased at being bound but complacent nonetheless. “You have nothing to fear from me. I told you, I come in peace.”

“We’ve got a saying about that,” Sigrid said. “They say the only peaceful Juarag is a dead Juarag. So make sure to mind your manners.”

The young woman rolled her eyes, but gave no reply. After checking over the knots and bindings one last time, Sigrid returned to Sven and signaled for them to take flight. Tied into Eva at the waist, Ivan clung to her as Fury lifted them both into the air with no more effort than if Eva were riding him solo. They soon rose high in the sky, flying west toward the last rays of the dying light. Up above the plains, the air turned cold, reminding Eva of how far they had to go to reach camp.

“Do you think she’s telling the truth?” Eva asked Ivan over her shoulder as they flew.

She felt the Scrawl shrug behind her. “Seems like it,” he said. “If not, I’d like to know how else she knows those things. What do you think?”

Eva paused before answering. She had a history of trusting people, for better or worse. In the case of Commander Celina, her misplaced trust nearly resulted in Eva being smashed to a pulp by a giant iron golem. On the other hand, she’d trusted Ivan when he’d shown up at her home in the middle of the night almost three years ago carrying Fury’s egg, which he’d stolen from the Windsworn.

Whether believing the Juarag woman would result in an outcome similar to the former or the latter, Eva couldn’t say. She did her best to force down the hope growing inside her. At this point, she told herself, it would do more harm than good to assume her exiled father was alive.

“I don’t know what to think,” Eva said at last. “It’s…strange that she would be wandering the Endless alone, so close to an outpost that was just attacked. And even stranger that we just happened to come across her.”

“She did attack you when she could have just shown herself,” Ivan pointed out. “It’s not like she didn’t know you were a gryphon rider.”

Eva had no reply to that. The rest of the trip passed in silence until they reached the foot of the mountains where the rest of their patrol camped. As Eva and the rest swooped down in the dark, she heard the sentries shout. By the time they landed and dismounted, Wing Commander Vance was already stalking toward them, an ugly look plastered on his face.

“Where in the sky have you lot been, eh?” he asked Sigrid. “Sunset was almost two hours ago and you were supposed to report back no later than that I was just about to send Twick and Corra out to find you.”

Eva glanced at Sigrid, hoping the other girl would keep her temper. Sigrid didn’t take much flack from anyone, even if it was a superior officer. To make matters worse, Vance loved to throw around his rank, especially when he had a crowd to show off in front of.

“There wasn’t anyone alive at the outpost, so we scouted out farther,” Sigrid said, eyes narrowed and hands wrapped tight around a pair of the many knives she wore at her belt. She jerked her head toward Belarus. “And we caught a Juarag.”

Vance looked at the charcoal-colored gryphon, face morphing from anger to surprise. The other Windsworn around them started muttering as well.

“Part of the raiding party?” the wing commander asked Sigrid, his thick eyebrows raised.

“Don’t think so,” Sigrid said. “She was all alone, didn’t have a sabercat, either. Says she’s got information for the lord commander himself and no one else.

Sigrid looked at Eva as she finished speaking and Eva felt a swell of gratitude. It was a three-day flight back to the Gyr, the mountain fortress of the Windsworn, but once they got home Eva knew how fast rumors of the legendary Aleron would fly, whether they were true or not. But Vance wasn’t going to let things slide that easy.

“What’s the message?” he asked, frowning. “Don’t sound right to me. Could be an assassin. Could be one of their shamans.”

Sigrid rolled her eyes. Fortunately, the wing commander missed it in the dark. “She doesn’t have any runes, so she can’t do any magic and we’ve already searched her for weapons. I doubt she’ll murder us all by looking at us crossways.”

Vance ignored Sigrid and strode past her to Belarus. He grabbed the Juarag woman by the chin and forced her face toward his. She scowled down at the wing commander and twisted her head away.

“Fiesty one,” Vance said. “How’d you know she’s got a message for the lord commander, eh? Did she come with a note?”

A couple of the other Windsworn looked at one another and chuckled.

“No, you dumb buffalo,” the Juarag woman said. “I told them.”

The Windsworns’ laughter died at once and they looked at her in disbelief.

“She speaks our language!” Vance said, eyes widening.

“Better than you do,” Ivan muttered under his breath, low enough only Eva could hear. She stifled a laugh.

“Right then, girl, who sent you? What’s your message for the lord commander?”

Eva tensed, but the Juarag woman only shook her head. “My message is for Lord Commander Andor and the Windsworn Council only.”

“Why you smart-mouthed little —” Vance drew back to strike her, but Sigrid stepped forward and caught his arm. The two glared at each other until Vance shrugged loose.

“I promised her safe conduct to the lord commander,” Sigrid said. “And that’s how it’s going to be.”

The wing commander looked ready to teach Sigrid a lesson about respect for her superior officers, then reconsidered. Eva guessed Vance didn’t want to get knocked flat on his back in front of the rest of his wing. Eva had no doubt who would have won the bout. Aside from that, Sigrid, Eva, and Ivan weren’t technically Vance’s riders anyway, they’d just been assisting the patrol.

“We leave at first light,” Vance said in a loud voice like it’d been his idea all along. “It’s your head if something goes wrong, Sigrid. You’re responsible for keeping a watch on her tonight, too.”

“No problem,” Sigrid replied, still scowling at the wing commander.

Vance and his closest cronies stomped away. The rest of the riders went back to their business, leaving Eva and her friends to unsaddle and care for their gryphons in the faint glow of the campfires.

While Eva stood guard, Sigrid and Ivan untied the Juarag’s hands and gave her a moment to shake the feeling back into them before securing her wrists once more. Eva dug through her saddlebags and tossed the young woman a few strips of dried meat and an apple, along with her canteen. Their prisoner wolfed down the food and drained the water skin in a few gulps like she hadn’t eaten or had a drink for days.

She handed the canteen back to Eva who took it, then raised her hand, arm held out to the side, elbow square. “My name is Eva,” she said.

Grinning, the girl nodded at Eva’s gesture. “What does that mean?”

Eva blushed and dropped her arm. “Sorry…thought it was how you Juarag greeted one another.”

Despite her situation, the young woman laughed and shook her head. “You are strange people, sky warrior. I am Chel.”

Chapter Three

Eva let out a long sigh and smiled as the colossal peak of the Gyr rose before them. On the outside, the home of the Windsworn didn’t look like much. Pale gray rock, a few stubborn trees, and desperate bushes clinging to the mountainside gave little hint of the magnificent halls and chambers within. Although it hadn’t always felt that way, it was home now and she was always glad to return after a long mission. Eva looked forward to the reassurance of solid rock surrounding her. That, and a long dip in the mountain’s hot springs that stayed just the right temperature year round to loosen even the tightest knots and aches.

Across from her and Fury, Eva saw Chel’s face fill with awe at the sight of the mountain. Living on the Endless Plains her entire life, Eva guessed Chel had never seen anything like the Gyr, which made the nearby Windswept range look like mellow hills in comparison.

They flew toward an opening about three quarters to the top of the mountain, a large cavern that served as the Roost and hatching grounds for the gryphons. When Fury tucked his wings and dipped down toward the landing rock, Eva saw a collection of Windsworn already waiting for them. In an attempt to show off, the young gryphon came in at full speed, checking their descent at the last moment. The force of the landing nearly jolted Eva out of her seat and she gave Fury’s reins a reprimanding jerk.

Sliding from her gryphon’s back, Eva turned around just as a young man rushed forward and wrapped her in his arms.

Eva laughed and smacked his chest as he spun her in a circle. “Put me down, you idiot — everyone is watching!”

“I don’t care if they are,” Tahl said, grinning. Nevertheless, he did as Eva asked. “I’m glad you’re back. Sounds like you found some trouble to get into.”

Eva winked. “Always.” It’d been almost two weeks since they’d last seen each other due to separate patrol assignments. She started thinking about doing more than hugging the tall boy with the brown, wind-blown hair when a sharp cough stole her attention.

“I’m not too old to understand young love, but that was a bit much, don’t you think?” Lord Commander Andor stood behind Tahl, the corner of his bearded lip twitching. Whether it was amusement or annoyance, Eva couldn’t tell. Right away she stepped back from Tahl and pressed her left fist against her chest in salute.

“Yes, uncle.” Head bowed, Eva could feel her face reddening and was painfully aware of the surrounding crowd.

“That’s lord commander to you, miss.” Eva knew it rankled Andor to be addressed personally in public and grinned after he returned the gesture and walked past her to Sigrid, Vance and the rest of the patrol. Before turning to follow, Eva shot Tahl a look that promised they’d pick up later on where they left off.

“Lord commander, I trust you received my dispatch?” Vance saluted then gave Chel a short push toward Andor. “We captured this —”

“Eva and I found her while on patrol, sir,” Sigrid cut in before Vance could finish.

Andor frowned as the two glared at one another, the prisoner caught between them. “I received the flier’s message. We will speak of this more in the council chamber and not before.”

The lord commander extended a hand in greeting to Chel, who looked at it like he was holding a snake. “It sounds like we have much to talk about.”

Chel nodded. “You look much like your brother, although a few more gray hairs.”

Eva saw a pained look cross her uncle’s face and felt something similar inside herself. “Bring her to the council chambers,” Andor said, gesturing to a pair of winged-helm guards. Without waiting to see his orders through, he turned and left, the crowd parting for him, in silence.

A man and woman moved to either side of Chel and took her by the arms, leading her out of the cavern. The rest of the guard fell in behind, walking after the lord commander. Sigrid and Vance picked up behind them, leaving Tahl and Eva to bring up the rear as the other riders tended to the gryphons.

“Behave yourself,” Eva said to Fury as they left. The gryphon rolled his head like he always did when she tried to give him a lecture, but Eva tapped him on the side of the beak to show she meant business. “I mean it. If I hear you’ve been misbehaving again, you’ll be out of the sky for a week. Understood?”

Last time Eva had left the young gryphon in the care of another, he’d almost taken off the unfortunate recruit’s finger. Fury narrowed his yellow eyes then let out a low, annoyed hiss, the closest thing to a promise Eva knew she’d get. Without waiting for her to say goodbye, he stalked off toward the meat locker where a half side of mountain sheep awaited him as soon as he was unsaddled and cared for. Normally, Eva would have done all that for Fury — the first rule of being a gryphon rider was to take care of your partner before yourself — but the council wouldn’t wait.

She strode to catch up with Tahl, who waited at the entrance of the Roost while the others carried on ahead. When she joined him, he took a quick glance around before swooping her up again and planting a long, firm kiss on her lips.

“Put me down!” Eva squealed, blushing again. When her feet touched the ground she made a hasty look to see if anyone had noticed.

“That’s all you have to say to me after two weeks? ‘Put me down?’ Hmm.” Tahl’s face dropped into a pout, but Eva knew he was just trying to get a pity kiss.

“Come on, hero,” she said, grabbing his hand to pull him down the long flight of stairs instead of playing into his game. “I’ve got places to be.”

As they walked, Eva told Tahl everything that’d transpired on the patrol, from the burning outpost to her encounter with Chel on the Endless.

“I don’t like it,” he said as she finished. “There’s just too many coincidences. She just happens to be passing through the same area as a recent raid and it just happens to be you that she finds?”

Eva shrugged. “It doesn’t make any sense,” she agreed. “But then, if it doesn’t make any sense, maybe that makes her story all the more believable.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Eva wished she’d kept them to herself. Tahl stopped as they neared the Main Hall and took Eva’s hand in his, turning her to face him. “Look, Eva…,” he trailed off and she knew he was trying to say something in a way that wouldn’t hurt her or make her mad. She doubted he’d succeed. “I know what it would mean to find your father. But you shouldn’t get your hopes up just because a captured enemy says he’s alive and well.”

Eva narrowed her eyes and pulled her hands back. “I know that. I’m not a child, Tahl.”

“Eva that’s not —”

Before he could finish, Eva turned away, hurrying to catch up with Sigrid and Vance. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much that’d he’d told her not to get her hopes up. She’d storming told herself the same thing for the past three and a half days. Even so, it irritated her that Tahl would write off the possibility of her father being alive without any consideration. Entering the council chambers, she pushed the conversation out of her thoughts, focusing on the moment at hand.

The first time Eva stood before the Windsworn Council, she’d been a brand new recruit to the Gyr, a timid blacksmith’s assistant with a newly-hatched gryphon and no clue what it meant to be a gryphon rider. Andor had brought her alone before the council and called a vote to see if she was allowed to stay. The council, comprised of Windsworn veterans and senior officers, had elected to keep her, but only by one vote. At the time, it’d felt more like defeat than victory and certainly no vote of confidence.

Standing before them now, after dozens of reports, Eva still felt a trace of that same anxiety that’d almost overwhelmed her the first time. These were hardened warriors — men and women who’d spent almost their entire lives as gryphon riders protecting Rhylance.

Toughest and hardest of them all, Uthred, the lord commander’s second-in-command, sat like a stone statue beside the lord commander. His pale, slate-colored eyes passed over Eva and rested on Chel as if his gaze alone could pry loose whatever secrets and lies she might be holding. All but two of the guards at Chel’s side left the room. Tahl took a spot near the door, out of the council ring, leaving Eva in the center with Chel and her guards plus Sigrid and Vance.

“Tell the council how you came to capture this prisoner,” the lord commander said to Sigrid. Out of the corner of her eye, Eva saw Vance suppress a frown. He might have only been a few years older, but as a superior officer to Sigrid, Eva knew it rankled Vance to be glossed over for an event that’d happened under his command, on his patrol.

While Sigrid recounted the events from that evening, Eva did her best to hold still, fighting an impulse to shift her weight from foot to foot or twist her hand round the grip of her sword. The toll of their journey washed over her, fatigue pulling at the chainmail and leather armor she wore as part of the Windsworn field kit. When Sigrid finished, the lord commander — Eva wouldn’t dream of calling him Uncle Andor in front of the council — nodded to Chel.

“I think it’s time we heard your version of the story, Juarag,” he said, face a blank mask.

Chel took a step forward, ignoring her bristling guards. Eva admired the courage the young woman showed before the council but wasn’t sure if it was born from Chel’s confidence or ignorance about who she was speaking to. As Chel started speaking, Eva felt her heart pound faster and the nape of her neck tingle.

“Over twenty years ago, a man on a golden gryphon wandered across the prairie, alone,” Chel said. “I was separated from the rest of my tribe and he saved my life. Once safe, I ran back to my tribe and told them of this man and his gryphon. Our chieftain told me to lead her and our warriors back to the spot where I had seen this man. She told me she had foreseen his coming, that he would save our people.”

“Your people?” Andor asked. “The Juarag?”

Chel shook her head. “My people are Juarag-Vo, a tribe without a tribe, outcasts and unwanteds who banded together for safety and protection. Our matriarch, Shera-Tal convinced this sky warrior to help us.”

“Help you with what?” Captain Velinda asked. She’d been promoted to Andor’s Left Wing following Celina’s betrayal and had spent the majority of her time since protecting trade caravans from Juarag attacks. About a year previous, her gryphon had been injured in a fierce battle with a sabercat. As a result, Velinda had a personal vendetta against the Juarag.

“The iron men from the east were growing bolder, venturing into the eastern edge of the Endless. We were driven from our hunting grounds, caught between the Juarag and the iron men with nowhere to go.”

“What are these iron men you speak of?” Uthred asked, speaking for the first time. Although his voice was low, it carried across the room for all to hear.

A knot like a hot iron ingot settled in the pit of Eva’s stomach. She had a bad feeling she already knew what Chel meant by “iron men.” They sounded eerily similar to the iron golem she’d fought in the catacombs of the Gyr, an automaton brought to life by Celina to destroy the Windsworn.

“Giants in armor, driven by foul rune-magic,” Chel said, confirming Eva’s worst fears. “They have no bodies, they do not tire and they know nothing but destruction. The sky warrior agreed to help us fight them. With his help, we managed to drive back a small group of them, after much loss to our tribe. This man, who called himself Aleron, decided after the battle to remain with us. In the years since he has lived with our tribe and protected us from many dangers.”

“Liar!” a council member cried out.

“What foul magic is this?” asked another. “There must be a spy among us feeding the Juarag this information!”

Andor raised a hand, silencing the Windsworn veterans. “What you say may or may not be true,” he said. “I’m more curious to know why my brother would send a young woman across the entire length of the Endless Plains to give the Windsworn a message.”

The council room went silent and all eyes fell on Chel.

“I have been sent to warn you,” she said, voice hardening. “The iron men are growing stronger. More come every year, killing and burning everything in their path. Nothing can stop them. They are driving the Juarag across the Endless Plains and soon, they will come here too.”

Chapter Four

Anticipating the outburst that ensued, Andor stopped most of the shouts and exclamations with a stern wave of his hand. When the room settled down, he fixed his withering, cold stare on Chel.

“Why did Aleron not come himself?” Uthred asked.

Because the king had him exiled, Eva wanted to yell out. It’d been two years since she learned that Lord Commander Andor and King Adelar were her uncles and that they were responsible for her growing up without a father. Even though she’d developed a working, albeit sometimes strained, relationship with them both, she still had a hard time coming to terms with what they’d done.

Her father, Aleron, and Uncle Andor had returned — long overdue — from an expedition to the far east of Altaris, only to find Eva’s grandfather had died while they were on the journey. Their eldest brother, Adelar, ruled as the new king of Rhylance. That wouldn’t have mattered, except Adelar, believing his siblings were dead, had taken Aleron’s betrothed as his wife.

But Eva’s father hadn’t let that stop him. Soon, Aleron started seeing his previously betrothed in secret. Eva was the result.

When Eva’s parents confessed what they’d done to the king, Adelar sent Eva’s father into exile. Soon after, Marien died giving birth to Eva. With Aleron long gone, Eva had been raised by a friend of the family, a smith named Soot. The problem was, nobody told Eva any of this until after her seventeenth year, hence the strain in her patchwork family’s relations.

“Aleron said he would be put to death if he came back,” Chel said, “But that his brothers had to be warned.”

“This is nonsense,” Velinda said. “Are we going to sit here, beguiled by some Juarag witch while her people slaughter our citizens on the frontier?”

“They are not my people,” Chel said, unfazed by Velinda’s fire. “I am Juarag-Vo — tribeless. Why else do you think the Juarag are attacking in such greater numbers?”

“It is the way of the Juarag to seek violence,” Uthred said. Several people around the room nodded in agreement. “They’ve raided the frontier as long as there have been settlers to attack.”

Chel shook her head so hard her raven hair spilled across her face. Eva could tell the young woman was getting frustrated with the assembly. Losing her composure would do little to win anyone to Chel’s case, but Eva had no way of telling her. “They are not just raiding,” Chel said. “They are invading! The iron men are driving the tribes from the Endless. Aleron realized this. Both the Juarag and the iron men are coming west! Coming to you!

A dozen murmured conversations broke out amongst the council members. Andor kneaded his temples and Eva noticed for the first time how pronounced the wrinkles and creases in his face had become over the past few years.

“Take the prisoner to a cell,” he said at last. “The council must discuss this matter in private.”

“You must listen to me!” Chel shouted, struggling against the guards as they grabbed her arms. She fought harder as they started dragging her from the room. “There is no time!”

Eva followed her out the door, thoughts whirling. As soon as everyone but the council exited the guards shut the stone doors, sealing the sound of debate within.

“Lying cat woman,” Vance muttered under his breath. Eva shot him a cold look, but the Wing Captain shrugged it off and stomped down the stairs, leaving Sigrid, Tahl, and Eva alone outside the council chamber doors. Keen to avoid the council members who thought a Scrawl riding a gryphon was less than appropriate, Ivan had disappeared as soon as they’d landed.

“What reason does she have to lie?” Eva said as soon as Vance was out of earshot. “How does it benefit her?”

“Hard to say,” Sigrid said with a shrug. When it came to politics, books, and tactics, the dark-haired girl had few opinions. Her idea of a grand strategy amounted to rushing headlong into a fray, knives, and axes flashing until her enemies were dead.

“Eva, you’re getting all worked up about this,” Tahl said, reaching for her.

“Stop patronizing me,” Eva said, the word carrying more venom than she’d intended. “I told you, I’m not a child. It’s not your father they’re talking about.”

Tahl frowned and folded his arms as Sigrid muttered something about food and walked off. Right after books and politics, talking about emotions and feelings was her least favorite subject.

“I’m sorry,” Tahl said after Sigrid disappeared down the steps. “I’m sure it’s hard…I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Eva blew out a long breath and stared at the floor “I know. It’s been a long few weeks.”

She looked up to see that familiar, jaunty smile Tahl wore as he stepped forward and kissed her on the forehead. “Let’s go get something to eat,” he said.

Eva shook her head and Tahl’s cocky smile faded. “I can’t,” she said. “I’ve got to talk to my uncle after the council adjourns.”

Whatever Tahl was about to say, he thought better of it and gave a defeated shrug instead. Eva forced a smile and gave him a playful shove. “I’ll catch up with you later, I promise.”

Tahl sighed. “You better!”

Time stretched by and Eva’s rumbling stomach was the only sound to cut through the empty hall. Drifting up the staircase and down the passage, Eva could smell the afternoon meal wafting up to torture her and could hear the happy chatter of Windsworn as they gathered in the main hall to eat. She wished she’d had Sigrid or Tahl bring her something but didn’t want to risk leaving, in case the council adjourned while she was gone. Committed, she slumped down to the floor and waited.

It seemed like hours later — it was hard to tell time in many places of the Gyr where there wasn’t a window to the outside world — when the council finally adjourned. The stone doors slid open and Eva jerked out of her doze, leaping to her feet. The Windsworn council gave her a small nod or greeting as they passed. Even Uthred grunted as he swept past. At last, only Andor remained, bringing up the rear.

“I knew you’d be out here,” he said. From the way he spoke, she couldn’t tell if it was a good thing she’d waited or not. “Come, let’s talk in my quarters.”

Eva followed him down the hall to a single door on the left. Inside, Eva made her way toward a stone table cluttered with maps and parchment. Andor gestured for her to take a seat and then sat down across from her, rubbing his face.

“So what’re you going to do?” Eva asked.

“Is that any way to speak to your Lord Commander?” Andor replied, eyes narrowing a bit in annoyance.

Eva grinned. “Sorry, uncle.”

Andor sighed and swept back his shoulder-length, graying blond hair from his face. “When you first came here, I found it hard to believe you were Aleron’s daughter — so quiet and well-mannered.”

Eva didn’t know how to take that, so she plowed onward. “What did you and the council decide?”

Instead of answering, Andor picked up a quill and turned it over between his fingers, seemingly lost in thought. “The council didn’t reach a decision. They want to know what the king’s thoughts are.”

“What else is there to know?” Eva asked, voice rising. “If more golems exist, it makes perfect sense that they are the cause of the Juarag moving west,”

“It’s not as simple as that, Eva,” Andor said. “The Juarag are still our enemies, no matter the reason they’ve chosen to increase their attacks. We can’t just fly over them to deal with some army of golems that may or may not exist. We don’t have enough gryphons and riders for that. Sending soldiers on foot or horseback would take months.”

“So you don’t believe her,” Eva said in a flat voice. “What would it hurt to just send someone to see?”

Andor sighed. “Some parts of the woman’s story add up, it’s true. But others just don’t make sense. Aleron spent years fighting the Juarag, why would he decide to join them?”

“Maybe because he didn’t have anywhere else to turn to,” Eva said, surprised at her own bitterness.

She expected Andor to get angry, but he looked like he’d had his fill of arguing for the night. “Eva, I’ve told you this before. Your father was a great man, but… he made some terribly rash choices when the mood took him. I know you think we’re the bad guys — especially Adelar, but what else could have been done? Adelar’s hand was forced.”

“Nothing can change what happened in the past,” Eva said, weary of hearing the same old justifications. “I want to know what you’re going to do about now.”

Andor looked at her for a long moment. Long enough for Eva to realize she wasn’t going to like what her uncle had to say next. A sinking feeling gripped her, even though she’d told herself over and over not to let any hope in.

“Eva, you have to understand —”

“You’re not going to do anything!” Eva yelled, bursting out of her chair. “Your own brother might still be alive out there — alive and in need of our help and you’re not going to do anything!”

“Eva, we’re in the middle of a war,” Andor said. He didn’t raise his voice or even stand up, which somehow made Eva angrier. “I don’t think you understand the distance we’re talking about here. A journey to prove if the Juarag woman is telling the truth would take months and cut right through Juarag territory. That doesn’t even take into account all the other dangers that lie east of the Windswepts. I can’t risk the lives of any Windsworn on a mission like that.”

“Then I’ll go,” Eva said. She gripped the back of her chair so hard her hands ached. “Send me. I’ll leave tomorrow.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Andor said, in the voice of the Lord Commander of the Gyr, not her uncle. “There’s too much of a risk. Believe me, no one would like to find Aleron alive more than —”

“It sure doesn’t seem that way.” Feeling the tears welling in her eyes, Eva spun around and stormed out the door.

“What you doing up here?”

Wynn’s voice cut through Eva’s solitude and she resisted the urge to tell the younger girl to leave her alone. When she’d first come to the Gyr as a teenager, Eva was placed in the class of younger cadets to catch up on her training. That’s where she’d become friends with Wynn. Together, they’d helped each other pass the grueling trials of Windsworn training, designed to push recruits to their limits. Now, Wynn was almost the same age Eva had been when she first arrived at the Gyr and soon to be a full-fledged Windsworn.

“Nothing,” Eva said.

She sat on a secluded ledge overlooking Rhylance’s capital, Gryfonesse, below. The carts and people moving through the streets looked like ants scurrying through a maze of white, toy buildings. It was Eva’s favorite spot to go whenever she wanted to be alone, or share a few private moments with Tahl, especially at sunset. Sigrid, Wynn, and Ivan knew about it as well, but Eva had still hoped for some private time to sort out the day’s events. She’d grabbed a quick meal in the kitchens and hurried out to the spot, using the Gyr’s extensive system of side passages to avoid any potential conversations as word of their patrols spread throughout the mountain.

“I heard about your patrol,” Wynn said, sitting down next to Eva. The girl’s light brown hair blew across her face in the breeze — Wynn could never get her braids quite right and they always came untangled. “Must have been quite the news.”

Eva nodded and made a small sound in reply but Wynn wasn’t deterred. Piece by piece, she teased out the council meeting and Eva’s conversation with Andor.

“What’re you gonna do?” Wynn asked after a long stretch of silence following Eva’s account.

“Dunno,” Eva said. “I’ll try talking to the king tomorrow, but I’m not holding out much hope he’ll do anything either.”

After Eva’s mother died, the king hadn’t taken another wife and had no children of his own. Andor and Eva were the extent of his family. Although he’d spent the last couple of years working to build a relationship with Eva, she still found it hard to forgive Adelar for taking her father from her before he even knew she existed. She didn’t hold much hope that the king’s answer would be any different than the Lord Commander’s — her uncles were cut from the same unyielding cloth.

“Anything I can do?” Wynn ventured.

“No, but thanks,” Eva said.

The sound of boots on loose gravel caused them to turn around, revealing Ivan making his way out on the ledge. Eva bit back a sigh — the last thing she wanted was to entertain yet another person.

But when Ivan saw them, he stopped in his tracks, a surprised look on his face. “Oh…hello,” he said. “I didn’t think anyone would be out here.” He stared at them like he didn’t know what to do next.

Eva threw her hands in the air. “Why don’t we invite a few more people and throw a party out here?”

“No — no, that’s okay, I was just leaving anyway,” Wynn said, hurrying to stand up. In her annoyance, Eva missed the glance between the pair. “Well, I mean I’ll go somewhere else. Ivan, I think Eva would like some alone time.”

Ivan continued to look between the two, confused until Wynn punched him in the arm. “Ow! What’re — oh, right. Yeah, I think I’ll leave as well. On my own. Somewhere else. Alone.”

The pair made a hurried exit. Eva watched them go, sure something was up but too concerned with her own problems to try and guess what it might be. She continued to stare out into the west long after Wynn and Ivan’s footsteps faded. Gradually, afternoon turned to evening and the blazing fall sun dipped into the horizon. A chill settled in the air, but Eva remained on her ledge, even though an answer alluded her. Sometime later, she heard footsteps approaching again and turned to find Tahl carrying a tray of food.

“Wynn said I’d find you out here,” he said.

Eva gave a dry laugh. “Of course she did, she tells everybody everything.”

Tahl sat the tray down next to her. “Here. Stew. Probably better than what you’ve been eating the past while.”

A loud rumble from Eva’s stomach reminded her she’d been on the ledge for hours since her hurried meal in the kitchens. Tahl waited patiently, watching the moon rise and the stars begin to fade into the sapphire sky as Eva did her best not to wolf down the food all at once. When she’d finished, he pushed the tray back and put his arm around her, pulling her in close.

Eva shivered, as much from being in Tahl’s arms as the cold. She took a deep breath and relaxed back against him.

“I missed you,” she said.

“Me too.”

Eva twisted her head around and saw him smirking, even though he didn’t take his eyes off the sky.

For a while they sat in silence, enjoying each other’s warmth and closeness after weeks apart. Eva readjusted herself and rested her head in his lap to stare up at the myriad of stars twinkling overhead. Tahl leaned back on one arm, absentmindedly stroking her hair with his free hand.

“What’d the lord commander say?” he asked at last.

“Nobody’s going to see if he’s really out there.” Alone with Tahl, the frustration started melting away but now raged back, full force. “I don’t understand how they can do nothing after he asked for help.”

She glanced at Tahl and saw him bite back a reply. Instead of speaking, he just nodded and continued to stroke her hair.

“I know he’s alive, Tahl,” Eva said. “I…I can’t explain. But I just know.”

“And you’re sure about this feeling?” he asked.

“It’s the same way I know I love you?”

“Well,” Tahl said, raising his eyebrows. “In that case, forget about it. It’s definitely not true. No way, no how.”

They shared a quiet laugh before lapsing back into silence.

“So you’re going to talk to the king tomorrow?” Tahl asked.

“I have to,” Eva said. “I can’t just do nothing.”

“I’d probably do the same thing in your place.”

Seized by a sudden overwhelming desire, Eva lifted herself up and pulled Tahl close, kissing him long and slow. When she pulled away at last, he hovered over her in the short distance between them, mouth slightly open and eyes closed. She laughed and pushed him back. Tahl made an exaggerated fall onto his back and stared up at her with that goofy grin of his.

“I’m going to bed, hero,” Eva said, standing. “It’s been a long day.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Tahl called after her as she walked away.

“I’m fine.”

Later that night, Eva realized it was the first time she’d lied to him.

Chapter Five

As much as she hated to crawl out of bed early after the past few exhausting days, Eva woke and dressed, careful not to wake Sigrid. Buckling on her sword belt, Eva bit back a laugh looking at Sigrid. Her roommate lay sprawled across her bunk, head lolling off the side, hair a tangled mess, mouth agape, and snoring.

A few riders were already up — mostly recruits starting their morning exercises before class or Windsworn preparing to leave on missions or patrols. Eva nodded to them as she passed but hurried to the Roost with her head down, to avoid any lengthy conversations. She wagered the news of their patrol had spread like wildfire the night before. The Windsworn kept secrets when necessary, but any news that wasn’t classified found its way throughout the tight-knit community inside the mountain in no time.

Up at the Roost, several riders were already in various stages of feeding, grooming and saddling their gryphons. Eva stepped out into the middle of the gigantic chamber and scanned the rows of nests along the cliffs to either side of her, looking for Fury’s deep red color that stood out from all the other gryphons. Unable to spot him, she gave a sharp whistle and shouted out his name.

High in a notch to her left, Eva saw his copper-colored head pop out of the rocks and stare down at her. “Hurry up, sleepyhead!” she shouted through cupped hands. In response, the gryphon shook his head and disappeared from sight.

“Fury!”

The gryphon’s head popped out again and Fury gave a reluctant caw before leaping off his alcove and soaring down to Eva. He landed so close that Eva had to leap out of the way to avoid getting bowled over by his wings.

“You did that on purpose,” she said, frowning.

Fury blinked back, trying to look innocent.

After brushing the gryphon down — a wide comb for the feathers on his head and front quarters followed by a brush for the fur on his torso and back — Eva went into the cool storeroom cave and unhooked a skinned deer hindquarter swinging from the ceiling. She tossed it on the floor and Fury clacked his beak in delight, ripping through meat and bone alike while Eva retrieved her riding saddle from its stand beside the rest of her wing’s gear.

In the time it took her to return, Fury devoured his morning snack and his yellow eyes darted around, hunting for more.

“You’ll get too fat to fly if you keep eating all the time,” Eva chided as she stepped around his left wing and slung the saddle over his back.

Unlike a horse’s saddle, the gryphon’s amounted to little more than a padded strip of leather with straps down both legs and a foothold in place of a stirrup. Eva wiggled the saddle to settle it into place and then walked around to Fury’s front to secure the two straps of leather that went across his chest. On longer trips, she’d also buckle in additional bags for her weapons, bedroll, and supplies but left such things off on short flights.

Eva swung into the saddle, grinning as she thought back to her first terrifying ride as a recruit. She’d clung to Andor, waiting to fall to her death as they climbed into the air. Now, as Fury walked toward the open sky ahead, she suppressed a shiver of delight. Although her stomach still twisted and clenched when Fury made his sharpest stoops and dives, Eva couldn’t imagine life without flying.

Reaching the landing and takeoff point, at the mountain’s edge, Eva reached down and buckled up her leg straps. Fury’s muscles quivered in anticipation and he unfurled his wings in one powerful movement.

“Alright, boy, let’s go!”

The gryphon needed no further encouragement. Screaming with delight, he gathered his back feline legs and pounced off the cliff ledge. Eva rolled with the motion, then leaned forward as Fury’s blood red wings sliced through the brisk mountain air.

Fury climbed higher and higher, circling up toward the peak of the Gyr. When they passed the summit, Eva’s watering eyes spotted a class of recruits below. She returned their wave as they rushed by, soon out of sight. Eva nudged Fury with her left foot and they banked away from the mountain, so high up the merchants looked like ants in the streets.

Eva shivered as they passed through cloud wisps, the frigid air biting at her riding coat. “Let’s take it down a little, I’m not dressed for this!” she shouted. Without warning, Fury dipped up and then dropped like a speeding arrow down toward Gryfonesse.

The wind screamed in Eva’s ears, overpowering her own shrill shouting. She leaned forward, hunched over Fury’s muscled neck as they gathered speed. As they plummeted toward the city, Eva felt herself lift out of the saddle, the straps around her legs the only thing keeping her from being ripped off Fury’s back into empty air.

The towers and domes of Gryfonesse grew with alarming speed. Even so, Fury dropped faster and faster. Eva clenched the gryphon’s neck feathers in a death grip.

“Fury…”

The gryphon ignored her, ear tufts pinned against his head, focused on the ground below. Eva’s heart leaped into her mouth. She braced for the inevitable collision.

“Fury!”

At the last second, moments before they would have splattered on a street, Fury’s wings burst open and Eva jerked backward as gryphon and rider tilted upward out of their death-defying dive. The people on the busy streets clapped and cheered at the fabled red gryphon as Fury sped between the tall towers and crenelations of the city, displaying his aerial prowess.

“Show off,” Eva muttered.

They glided over the craftsman quarter of the city and Eva fought the urge to stop at the forge of her foster father, Soot. As if he sensed Eva’s longing, Fury pulled at the reins when they neared Eva’s childhood home. With a pang of guilt, Eva directed them toward the palace instead. When they landed in the courtyard, the guards called out in greeting — everyone in Gryfonesse knew the king’s niece rode the only blood-red gryphon born in the last hundred years.

Eva slid out of the saddle and blinked, face taut from the chilling ride. She did her best to smooth down the loose hair pulled from her braids then stepped in front of Fury.

“You behave yourself until I’m back, alright?”

Fury glanced away from her, suddenly interested in a pair of palace officials crossing the open grounds. Eva grabbed his beak in both hands, directing his head back at her. “Alright?” she said, in a firmer voice.

The gryphon clacked his beak and rolled his head in reluctant adolescent agreement. Before Eva could say anything else, he pulled away and ambled toward a large oak just starting to golden with the season and plopped down beneath the tree. After sparing one last parting look, Eva turned toward the palace.

Both of the guards saluted as Eva drew near and opened the large gilded doors to the court of King Adelar. Inside, she found the hall empty of the usual assortment of nobles and courtiers. A lone servant scurried over to greet her, abandoning the feather duster he’d been waving across a suit of armor situated against the wall.

“Mistress Evelyn! How good to see you! My apologies — had we been aware of your visit this morning, I would have made certain that —”

“Where is everyone?” Eva asked, gazing around the deserted hall.

“His majesty is reviewing the winter stores and tallies but has not yet left today,” the servant said. “I will notify the king of your arrival, Mistress Evelyn.”

After thanking the servant, Eva wandered around while she waited. Statues of men, women, and gryphons lined the space between columns on both sides of the halls: Eva’s ancestors and the gryphons who’d helped them establish and protect Rhylance after the kingdom’s founding. Her wanderings took her down the length of the hall up the steps to the throne itself.

Off to one side of the winged chair hung a large tapestry marking the ruling line. Eva followed the list of names all the way down to Adelar, Andor and a repaired piece of cloth stitched with Aleron. It was patched over the place where the king had originally cut out the name, following his brother’s betrayal. Eva was surprised to find her name added to the tapestry below her father’s repaired portion.

“Mistress Evelyn.” The servant’s voice made Eva jump. “His majesty will see you in his private study.”

“Thank you.”

Eva passed through the doors and found King Adelar much like his brother had been the day before, bent over a table, studying maps. When she entered the room, he looked up and smiled, but it did little to mask the look of concern on his face.

“Eva!” Adelar said leaving the table to give her a hug. “How good of you to visit.”

The king wrapped his arms around her and Eva did her best to give a warm embrace in return, even though she stiffened. When they parted, Adelar held her at arm's length and looked her over.

“None the worse for wear from your patrol, I see.”

Eva nodded. “It’s been…an interesting couple of days.”

“Indeed it has,” the king said, his smile falling from his lined face altogether. “Which explains why you’re here.”

Without further encouragement, Eva launched into the argument she’d been preparing over the past day. To his credit, her uncle didn’t interrupt.

“I don’t mean to open old wounds,” Eva finished. “But I can’t just stand by and do nothing, knowing that he might be out there. And I don’t think you or Uncle Andor can either.”

Adelar returned to his table of maps and smoothed one out before tapping it with his finger. Eva looked closer and saw it was the eastern side of the Windswept mountains, Rhylance’s frontier.

“We’ve dealt with occasional Juarag raids as long as I can remember,” the king said. “Back in the days of my father, and his father before him — ever since we began settling the far side of the mountains. But this, as you say, is different. They’re coming in numbers, no one can deny that.”

Eva wasn’t sure what to say and wanted to be careful not to snuff out any budding opportunity that might be flickering to life. “So…?”

The king gave her a grim smile. “Andor brought me your report yesterday evening after the council met…and your little meltdown in his quarters.” Eva winced, but Adelar continued. “It makes sense that something is driving the Juarag west. I have never traveled farther than the eastern edge of the Endless Plains, but from what Andor tells me, it is wild country on the other side. Ancient ruins, forgotten remnants of the civilization that ruled Altaris long before the Sorondarans sailed here. I know my brother — if Aleron is alive, he’d be right in the middle of whatever trouble is going on over there.”

Eva fought to control her impatience. “Do you think he is?” she asked cautiously.

“I want to believe he is,” Adelar said. He sagged over the table, and Eva thought she saw a tear drip onto the parchment beneath his hands. “I want to think I could see him, even one last time and tell him I forgive him and ask for his forgiveness in turn.”

The king gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. After a moment, he heaved a shuddering sigh and looked at Eva. “But what I want to hope and believe isn’t all that matters here. As the king, I have to put the welfare of all of the people of Rhylance before my own, the greater good before one man, even if he is my own flesh and blood.”

Eva felt like she’d been struck in the chest by a giant hammer. But in place of the white-hot anger she’d felt the day before, her remaining hope drained from her.

“However,” Adelar continued. Eva swallowed the knot in her throat, unsure if she wanted to hear what was coming. “In place of an army, a small number of people, moving fast around the Endless Plains to the north might be able to pass by the Juarag unseen.”

Not believing her ears, Eva gaped. She opened her mouth to say something, but Adelar held up a hand to stop her.

“Of course, I would never suggest someone, especially a Windsworn do something like that,” he said, face a blank slate. “For one, it would be extremely reckless — something Aleron himself would have done. And second, an act like that would probably be viewed by the Lord Commander as desertion. I wouldn’t want to place myself in a position to have to grant that person or people a pardon, even if what they did could turn out to be for the greater good of all Rhylance.”

When he finished speaking, Adelar pushed a rolled up parchment across the table to Eva. She peeled back one side and saw it was a rough map of eastern Altaris beginning on the far side of the Windswept mountains.

“Are you —”

Her uncle cut her off again. “I’m afraid I have much work to do today, niece, but as always, I am glad for your company. Please take that as a gift, for your studies.”

Eva felt her mouth drop open a little bit. She was about to say something else, then thought better of it and decided to leave before the king changed his mind. “Thank you, uncle,” she said, giving a slight bow. “It’s always good to see you.”

Adelar smiled again and this time it melted through his stern exterior. “After studying that map, you may want to visit Soot. He might have something to say about it.”

Heart racing, Eva nodded and rushed out of the study without looking back. When the doors swung shut, she burst into a run, ignoring the hails of the guards and servants as she raced toward the courtyard.

“Fury!”

Startled from his nap, the gryphon’s head shot up, searching for his rider. Before the gryphon could stand, Eva tucked the map inside her uniform, and swung into the saddle, eager to get back to the Gyr.

Chapter Six

“Whatever this is, I can tell it’s trouble,” Ivan said.

Sigrid grinned. “I sure hope so.”

The three of them were gathered in Eva and Sigrid’s quarters. As soon as Eva returned to the Gyr, she’d tracked down Ivan (in the library, as usual) and Sigrid (in the training circle, as usual) and brought them straight back to their room.

A pang of guilt crossed her, thinking how angry Wynn would be for not being involved. Too young to come, the less Wynn knew about their venture, the better. Eva knew she couldn’t risk the talkative girl accidentally slipping and mentioning the plan to someone else before they got away. When she told Ivan as much, he looked even more bothered than Eva felt about keeping the secret.

“If Tahl gets to know, then why can’t Wynn?” Ivan asked. “I know you’re not going keep anything from lover boy.”

Eva coughed and her eyes fell to the floor. “Well…”

Tahl. Eva knew it was wrong to leave him in the dark and still wondered if she’d done the wrong thing by not including him. She’d reasoned with herself it was as much for his protection as her own. No matter what feelings were there, Tahl was a Wing Captain, responsible for his own riders. He’d never leave the Gyr against the Lord Commander’s wishes, and Eva doubted if he’d let her go either if he knew about what she was planning.

The joking air in the room vanished like a wisp of smoke. “Eva,” Ivan said in a quiet voice. “What are we doing here?”

Eva glanced at the closed door and pushed her guilty feelings aside. There’d be plenty of time for regrets on the journey. “This doesn’t leave the room, got it?”

Ivan and Sigrid nodded, eager to hear what had pulled them from their studies. Eva took a deep breath. “We’re going to free the Juarag prisoner and have her lead us to my father.”

Ivan’s eyes grew wide and Sigrid sat back on her bunk, a stunned look on her face.

“You’re crazy,” Ivan said. “We’ll be hunted down before we even get out of Rhylance. Not to mention the part where we commit an act of treason. Sigrid, tell her she’s crazy.”

Contrary as always, Sigrid’s mouth twisted into a wild grin. “Sounds like my kind of adventure!”

Ivan snorted and folded his arms. “Easy for you to say — you’ve never spent half a year locked up in this storming mountain!”

Eva rolled her eyes. “You stole a gryphon egg!”

“Stole a gryphon egg while being possessed by some dark magic one of your officers was using,” Ivan corrected. “I was innocent!”

“Then don’t come!” Eva said. There wasn’t time to bandy words with the Scrawl. “If you’re not up to it, just stay out of my way.”

“Oh no, I’m coming,” Ivan said as his face stretched into a lunatic grin matching Sigrid’s. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I just wanted you to know up front it was a bad idea.”

Eva looked at Sigrid, who nodded. “I’ll go,” she said. “But if this is all a wild goose chase, I’d hate to think what will happen to us when we get back.”

“If we get back,” Ivan said. “From what I’ve read, the east is a nasty place full of all kinds of savages, giant animals that want to eat you, wild storms — you name it. And that’s not counting any magically animated golems that want to smash us into a pulp. Didn’t you learn anything in the Heart of the Mountain?”

Eva’s nerves threatened to overcome her. By all accounts what they were about to do was crazy, just like Ivan said. She didn’t even want to think about the trouble they’d be in, either. She didn’t know what the punishment for desertion was. Aiding a prisoner of war, however… that alone would probably put all their heads on the chopping block.

“We’ll worry about that when we have to,” Eva said, as much to reassure herself as the others. “Right now, we’ve got to get Chel out of here without being noticed. Any ideas?”

“Well, we’ve snuck around this place in the dark before, it shouldn’t be too hard,” Sigrid said. “The tricky part might be gathering enough food without anyone getting suspicious or being followed.”

Eva unrolled the map Adelar had given her across her bed. “I’ve been thinking and even if it’s the most obvious route, I think it makes the most sense to go around the Endless to the north,” Eva said, leaving out that it had been the king who had suggested it. “Anything south of the Endless is going to be too cold with winter coming on. I don’t want to get caught flying in a blizzard if we can help it.”

“The north?” Ivan said, frowning at the map. “That’s pretty wild territory. Everything between Rhylance and Maizoro is wilderness. There’s a reason the caravans go so heavily guarded.”

“Nothing wrong with a good fight,” Sigrid said, rolling her shoulders. “What’s the point of breaking the rules if you can’t have a little fun?”

Ivan rolled his eyes. “My idea of fun isn’t getting my head cut off by some bandit in the middle of nowhere.”

“If you’re scared, then don’t come.”

“I never said —”

“Enough! Nobody’s going to get their head cut off.” At least, Eva hoped not. To discourage further discussion on the subject, she rolled up the map, fighting back a growing unease. “Let’s meet back here tonight.”

The rest of the day seemed to drag by. Eva’s stomach twisted in knots every time she thought about what they were planning to do. After halfway deciding a dozen times to call it all off when they met that night, she finally managed to force the feelings back.

Of Tahl, she saw no sign. Eva heard he was getting ready to lead his Wing on another patrol to the southeast and wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved their paths might not cross or sad she wouldn’t get to have at least a partial goodbye.

Not wanting to arouse suspicion, Eva, Sigrid and Ivan joined the rest of the Windsworn in the Main Hall for the evening meal. Once again, Eva’s nerves threatened to betray her, especially when Wynn came dragging up to their table after her final training circuit of the day.

“Storm Cross and his blasted conditioning,” she said, cursing the Gyr’s Drill Master before shoving a hunk of bread into her mouth. After a couple of chews, she started talking through it, spraying crumbs everywhere. “My whole body’s numb!”

The three of them picked at their meal while Wynn shoveled down hers as fast as she could swallow. Pausing to take a long drink, she seemed to notice their strange behavior for the first time.

“What’s the matter with you lot?”

Eva opened her mouth but nothing came out. She glanced at the other two for help but Ivan looked ready to burst for want of spilling their secret. Wynn frowned.

“Gryphon got your tongues?”

“Don’t want to eat too much — we’re going to train tonight,” Sigrid said, breaking their awkward silence. “Getting ready for another mission. You can come if you want the extra practice?”

Wynn snorted and shook her head like Sigrid had asked her to grow a pair of wings and fly off the mountain. Inside, Eva wanted to shout for joy at her friend’s quick response.

“Like hell,” Wynn said. “I’m beat. Soon as dinner’s over it’s bed for me.”

While Wynn finished shoveling down her food, the rest of them picked at their own plates, waiting for her to finish. After what seemed like an eternity, the younger girl took one last long draught and rose from the bench.

“See you…tomorrow?” Ivan said.

Wynn gave the Scrawl a strange look and, once again, Eva found herself confused by the pair of them. “Yeah, guess so,” she said.

Before Sigrid or Eva could tell her goodnight, the younger girl walked off without a look back at them. As soon as she was a few tables away, Ivan let out a gigantic sigh and buried his face in his tattooed hands.

“Let’s get out of here,” Eva said. Although she knew how much it would hurt not to have some semblance of a goodbye with Tahl, Eva didn’t want to run into anyone else.

The other two nodded and they made their way out of the crowded hall. Cutting down a side passage, Eva waited to make sure they were alone before speaking.

“Alright, Ivan, meet us at our quarters after the first bell,” she said. “We’ll get Chel first, then head to the Roost. And whatever you do —”

Footsteps sounded down the passage and Eva paused, heart racing. All three of them listened, but no one appeared and they couldn’t hear anything.

“Must’ve been an echo,” Sigrid said at last.

Eva bit her lip. “Let’s hope.” Night couldn’t come fast enough.

Not long after the first bell sounded and Eva found herself wandering through the dark hall of the Gyr, she wondered yet again if they were making a terrible mistake. The slightest noise, from wind whispering down the passages to the crackling embers of sputtering torches, set her on edge.

“Will you keep quiet?” Eva hissed. Ivan paused mid-step, no doubt to inadvertently scuff his boots on the stone passageway floor or clear his throat for the hundredth time. The Scrawl gave Eva a bewildered look like he hadn’t done a thing and shrugged.

Leading the way, Sigrid turned and waved an impatient hand at the two. They’d made it down to the mid-levels of the Gyr without incident. Compared to the period of attacks when Eva had first arrived at the Gyr, security within was almost nonexistent, the benefit of living atop a mountain only accessible by flight or a handful of secret passages in the pitch black bowels of the mountain, guarded by ancient traps.

They passed the storerooms to one of the lowest levels in the mountain that the Windsworn ventured. Lower still were the Catacombs, a maze of tunnels filled with ancient traps designed to smash, cut or otherwise maim anyone who didn’t belong, the last remnants of the original inhabitants and builders in the mountain. Just above the Catacombs sat the old dungeon, empty most of the time save for exceptionally important prisoners, like Chel.

Eva gnawed on her lip as they crept along, hoping there weren’t any guards watching over the Juarag-Vo girl. Secured in a cell of solid stone and iron, no one could escape the dungeons without outside help but Eva didn’t know what they’d do if they happened across a guard by some random chance.

When they rounded the passage, Eva breathed a sigh of relief. The large double stone doors that marked the dungeons were swung shut, but no guards were posted. Sigrid took a cautious step forward and pushed the right door open just wide enough for them to fit through. Ivan whispered a kenning under his breath and a small yellow flame grew out of the palm of his hand.

With Ivan leading the way they passed by the empty cells. Eva marveling at the way each seemed to be carved from the mountain’s bones. She knew from experience how miserable a stay there could be. Just as she started to worry that Chel had been moved, Sigrid pointed to her right. Chel lay inside on a battered straw mattress, fast asleep

“Psst!” Sigrid hissed. “Hey, cat girl. Get up!”

Chel muttered something and started to roll over before sitting straight up in alarm. Her dark eyes darted in their direction and widened in recognition.

“What are you doing here?”

“Getting you out,” Eva said. The Juarag girl leaped to her feet and rushed toward the bars.

“Ah-ah,” Ivan said, wagging a finger with the hand that wasn’t cradling a small ball of fire. “Not so fast. There’s a couple of conditions.”

Chel’ brow creased and she took a step back away from the cell door. “What kind of…conditions?”

“If we free you, you must swear to take me to my father,” Eva said.

“Play us false,” Sigrid added, laying a hand on one of the many knives at her belt. “And you’ll be sorry.”

The Juarag girl studied them through narrow eyes. “Deal!”

“Better stand back,” Eva warned.

Ivan stepped in front of the door and pressed his palm with the summoned fire in it against the lock. Eva watched, wide-eyed as the metal began to glow, faint at first then bright like a bed of hot coals in the forge. A moment later, the lock gave way and the door swung open. Eva winced as the un-oiled hinges croaked, the sound bouncing throughout the empty dungeon.

Chel stepped out of the cell and the three took a collective step back, reaching for their weapons, or in Ivan’s case, raising his flame-engulfed hand into a fighting stance. The Juarag-Vo girl held up her hands. “I gave you my word. No tricks.”

Eva suppressed a sigh. Halfway there.

Sigrid back in the lead, they started back up the myriad of winding passages and caverns within the Gyr. Eva brought up the rear. Although there shouldn’t have been anyone awake at the hour, she kept glancing over her shoulder, imagining she heard footsteps echoing after them through the twisting halls and making people out of the shadows flickering off the crystal lamps that illuminated the upper levels.

Eva fought back another sigh of relief as the long stairs leading up the Roost came into view. Inside the cavern, a sliver of moonlight shone through the split in the mountain. They started down the cavern toward the end where their gryphons waited, harnessed and ready for flight. Now all they had to do was —

This time, Eva knew she wasn’t imagining the steps behind her, especially when the others turned in alarm. A lone figure stood at the other end of the Roost and Eva’s heart sank. It was Tahl.

Chapter Seven

“What’s going on?” Tahl asked, one hand resting on his sword hilt.

Eva stood rooted to the spot but luckily Ivan stepped in. “Top secret patrol,” he said. “The Lord Commander is sending us to check some of the southern settlements near the Scrawl border before winter hits hard. We believe the Juarag might make a push in that direction since there’s not as many forts in the area.”

Tahl raised his eyebrows. “Oh really? Because when I overheard you in the hall after dinner it sounded like you were going to do something stupid. And now you’re trying to leave the Gyr with a prisoner of war.”

Eva glanced back at the others. “Give us a minute.”

“Don’t go anywhere in the meantime,” Tahl said, hand still on his sword. When Eva stepped closer, however, the determined expression on his face melted to something that looked an awful lot like heartbreak. Eva looked at the ground, unable to bear it.

“I can explain —”

“Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot to explain, Eva. You were just going to sneak out of here without a word?”

“I knew you wouldn’t come and I didn’t want to put you in a compromising situation by telling you,” Eva said. But the words sounded hollow, even to her.

“You didn’t even ask me,” Tahl said. He didn’t sound mad — Eva thought it would have been easier if he had.

“I —”

“This is treason!”

“If I had any support from Uncle Andor I wouldn’t have to do it this way,” Eva said. A rush of anger flared inside her, burning away the guilt. “I went to him first. He doesn’t want to find my father. It doesn’t matter to him.”

Tahl frowned. “The least you could have done is told me, or even asked —”

“Asked what?” Eva said. “If you would come? Will you come with me?”

He looked taken aback as if that was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “I…it’s not that easy!”

“Of course not,” Eva spat. “Because you’re the golden boy, you’re the hero around here and you don’t want to risk your spotless reputation for me.”

“You’re talking about desertion!” Tahl fired back. “Do you even understand what you’re saying?”

“Do you?” Eva asked. “Because all I hear is ‘Eva, I care more about being Windsworn than about you.’ That’s what it sounds like.”

“That’s not what I said. If you’d just —”

“If that’s how it is, at least have the courage to say so,” Eva said, looking down so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes. “But we’re going either way.”

“Eva, this is madness. Please, I’m begging you. I don’t want you to die.”

“Goodbye, Tahl,” Eva said. The threat of tears vanished and she found herself surprised at how calm she was, aside from waking up the Roost, she had no desire to fight anymore and she realized her mind was completely made up.

Tahl took a step back like she’d slapped him. Sigrid, Ivan, and Chel joined her side. “You’re all under arrest,” he said, drawing his sword.

Ivan muttered a few words. This time, his hand crackled and glowed pale blue as ice spread up to his wrist.

“No!” Eva jumped between them and placed a calming hand on Tahl’s chest. “We didn’t come here to fight. Please, Tahl, just let it go.”

“We’re going to wake up the Roost Master!” Sigrid hissed.

Eva could tell her words weren’t reaching Tahl anymore. He took a step back and her hand fell from his chest as he settled into a fighting stance.

“Oh for crying out loud,” Sigrid said. “You’re going to fight three of us?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Tahl said. “I’ll ask you one last time to —”

Ivan whispered again and Eva saw a series of runes on his arms and neck flare to life with the same pale blue light. A ball of ice grew in the Scrawls hand and shot across the gap between them, striking Tahl in the head. Crying out, Eva rushed to his side as he fell the ground. A gigantic bump grew on Tahl’s forehead but his heartbeat was steady.

“I guess you could say he’s out cold,” Sigrid snickered.

Eva whirled around, glaring at her and Ivan. “You could’ve killed him!”

Ivan held up his hands like he didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. “What? Did you want to fight him? He’ll be just fine, I promise. A little headache is all. When he wakes up, he’ll probably be pretty angry at us though, so we’d better get going.”

Eva cradled Tahl’s head in her lap for a moment longer and winced at the lump. “I’m sorry it had to be this way,” she whispered, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. She leaned forward and her lips brushed his forehead. “Please don’t hate me.”

Laying his head gently on the ground, Eva stood and pointed to Chel. “You’re riding with Ivan. Try anything and he’ll throw you off, from as high up as he wants. We’ve found your weapons, but they’ll be with Sigrid.”

Sigrid looked at the Juarag-Vo girl as if daring her to try and take them but Chel just nodded. “I told you, I am on your side, I have no desire to play you false.”

Without answering, Eva walked past them toward Fury, who clawed at the ground, impatient to be gone. Eva swung in the saddle, resisting the urge to look back at Tahl.

One by one, they lifted off into the night, flying around the back side of the mountain to decrease the chance of being seen by any residents of the Gyr who might have been up. Eva shivered and pulled her cloak tighter about her in the cold night air. In the faint moonlight, she glanced back to see if anyone had followed them out of the Roost, but the night sky behind them was as bleak and empty as it was ahead.

Rather than flying over the city toward the Craftsman District, Eva guided Fury downward until they flew just higher than Gryfonesse’s battlements. Holding well beyond bow range and thus out of sight of any night watch patrolling the walls, they swung around the northern side of the capital city. When the western walls came into sight, Fury rose higher into the sky once more.

They passed over the walls without being challenged. Even if a guard saw them, Eva doubted any would question what a gryphon rider would be doing, no matter the hour. Below, the white stone of the city’s building made a ghostly hue in the silence of the night, setting Eva’s nerves on edge.

When the familiar cottage, yard, and smithy appeared, Eva forced herself to unclench her jaw. Raising a hand to signal the others, Fury wheeled downward and the cold air rushed up to meet them, chasing tears out of the corners of Eva’s eyes. Aside from the rustling of feathers and the creaking of the cold, leather harness, they landed in silence.

The sight of the forge sent a pang of longing through Eva. Her mind went back to the days she’d spent toiling in the forge with her foster father, Soot, and his friendly golem, Seppo.

Eva slid out of the saddle and felt a tremble in her legs as she started walking across the yard toward the cottage. Something clanked and clanged from within the forge and Eva’s hand went to her sword, even though she knew exactly what made the sound. Two piercing blue orbs attached to an empty helmet and a hulking suit of armor loomed out of the darkness but rather than being alarmed, Eva grinned.

“Hello, mistress Evelyn!” Seppo said, stomping toward them. When he spoke it was a ringing metallic voice like a hammer tapping on a plate of steel. “It is a strange hour to be calling, but I have missed you.”

“Seppo, sshhh!” Eva whispered, holding a hand to her lip. In his joy, the golem didn’t seem to mind that it was the middle of the night and Eva knew he was apt to wake the whole neighborhood if he kept going on. Made entirely out of dull gray plates, Eva had no clue what sort of magic or machinations powered the golem. There was none better working the forge, but Seppo often showed a glaring lack of social understanding.

“Ah, of course,” Seppo said, lowering his voice until Eva could barely understand him. “How can I be of assistance?”

“I was hoping you could wake up Soot for me,” Eva said. A giant of a man, the last thing Eva wanted to do was disturb her foster father unannounced in the middle of the night. Seppo, on the other hand, could survive an instinctual hammer blow to the head without so much as a scratch.

“Of course,” Seppo said. He started walking toward the cottage’s back window where Soot slept and then paused. “Are you sure this is wise? As I have already mentioned, your arrival at this hour seems most peculiar.”

“No,” Eva admitted, her patience running thin. “But I need to talk to him, Seppo. Hurry!”

Finding Eva’s response satisfactory, Seppo nodded. Before he could take another step, however, the cottage’s front door swung open, revealing a shirtless, bleary-eyed Soot, a hammer raised in his one good hand.

“Storm it all, Seppo! What have I told you about —” The smith paused, stunned into silence at the sight of three gryphons, his foster daughter and her companions in his yard in the wee hours of the night. “Eva! What in the sky is going on?”

“Mistress Evelyn came calling and asked me to wake you,” Seppo cut in. “That unpleasant girl and the Scrawl are with her, but that’s all I know. There’s someone else too, but I don’t recognize her.”

Sigrid frowned, living up to her unpleasant description. Ivan, on the other hand, swallowed hard and took a step backward. When the boy had fled after stealing Fury’s egg from the Gyr, he hid in the woodshed behind Soot’s forge. When Seppo discovered the young thief, at an hour similar to the one they were now visiting, Ivan completely immobilized Seppo with his rune magic. It was a feat Eva hadn’t seen before or since, even if the only permanent injury to the golem was his pride. As a result, Ivan kept a wide berth from Seppo whenever they crossed paths.

“Yes,” Ivan said clearing his throat. “It’s good to see you again Seppo.”

Soot shot Seppo an annoyed glance for interrupting and then gestured with a burly scarred hand towards Chel. “Now that this giant bucket of bolts is done running his yap, tell me what you’re doing here in the middle of the night with that captured Juarag girl.”

“Well…” Eva began. If Soot already knew about Chel, this might not go so well.

Soot folded his arms across his chest and looked down at Eva, frowning. “What sort of trouble have you gotten into now?”

Eva opened her mouth to say that was hardly fair — since joining the Windsworn she’d only ever been in real trouble one time when a possessed Celina had kidnapped Ivan and took him down into the catacombs to sacrifice him and revive an ancient golem. Afterward, she’d developed a little bit of a flair for, as the Lord Commander put it, “doing things the way her father would’ve done.”

“It’s a long story,” Eva said. “And I don’t have much time to explain.”

“That’s funny,” Soot said. “Someone else used to tell me that all the time, too: your stormin’ dad. You didn’t think I wouldn’t find out about all that from Andor or Adelar, did you? Let me guess, you got a wild hair and decided to go after him?”

Eva tried to think of a way to make her decision sound more responsible but it added up the same no matter how she tried to come at it. “You’re not going to rat me out, are you? Adel — someone told me to come see you before I left. So here I am. Plus I wanted to say goodbye.”

She knew that would get to the old smith. As gruff and salty as he pretended to be on the exterior, Soot had a special soft spot in his heart for Eva.

Soot heaved a big sigh, his broad shoulders dropping. “No, I’m not going to try to stop you, but I’m not going to tell you that you’re doing the right thing either.” Eva opened her mouth to argue, but Soot raised a hand to hold her off. “Eva, you’re a grown woman now. You got to make your own decisions.”

For a moment, doubts stole into Eva once more. “I know,” she said, trying to force back the uncertainty. “But if he’s out there I have to know. And if what we heard about more Smelterborn is true…”

Eva trailed off. The childish part of her hoped to the sky she’d never encounter another golem aside from Seppo again.

Soot’s expression darkened. Although no one ever really talked about it, the smith had been to the Far East on the same expedition as Aleron, Andor, Celina, and others. From the bits and pieces Eva had managed to gather, it hadn’t been much of a grand quest like the ones in children’s tales. Somehow, somewhere on that journey, Soot had lost a hand. He seemed to forget he’d found Seppo on the same journey, though, so Eva knew it couldn’t have been all bad.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Soot said. “I wouldn’t go back east for nothing. There’s a curse upon that land, there’s a reason the Ancients all died out.”

Eva glanced behind her, up toward the Gyr. Although the first rays of morning light had yet to crack the darkness, she knew it wouldn’t be long until someone came after them. So far, Soot hadn’t exactly been a fount of useful information.

The smith seemed to realize he wasn’t going to say anything that would change Eva’s mind. He sighed and ran his good hand over his bald head. “If anyone could survive out there in that sky-forsaken country, it would be Aleron. The only advice I got for you is this: out there, there’s no rules and no laws. The east is wild, savage country. Do everything you can to avoid a fight, trust me. If you get yourself in trouble, best thing you can do is run away.”

Overcome with love for her foster father, Eva ran forward and wrapped her arms around Soot. She buried her face in his blackened, fire-scarred apron and clung tight as he wrapped his arm around her and squeezed back.

“We’ve gotta get going,” Sigrid said. “There could be riders after us at any minute.”

“Get going, girl,” Soot said, voice thick. “I wish I could send Seppo with you but he’s too heavy to fly.”

“It’s true,” Seppo said. “My maker never designed me to take to the sky. But I wish you well on your journeys, and will mourn for you if you die in the middle of nowhere and never return.”

Eva let out a dry laugh, wiping away her tears. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Ivan muttered.

Standing there a moment longer, Eva took in Soot, Seppo, and her childhood home. Part of her wanted nothing more than to stay there, to work the forge and pretend like wars, Windsworn and her long-lost father didn’t exist.

“I’ll come back,” she said, although Eva didn’t know if it was for Soot’s benefit or her own. “I promise!”

Once again, Eva swung up into Fury’s saddle, leaving someone else she loved behind. As the flickering lights of Gryfonesse faded behind them she looked to the east, to the great unknown, where somewhere she hoped her father waited.

Chapter Eight

In the midst of his breakfast, King Adelar heard his brother approaching long before the flustered guard arrived to announce the lord commander’s appearance. Andor burst into the garden terrace, destroying the tranquility of the fine autumn morning.

“She’s gone!” Andor said. He looked more flustered than Adelar had seen his brother in a long time. “I’ve sent patrols and birds out but I don’t think it will do any good. They must’ve left sometime in the night.”

“Whoever are you talking about?” the king asked, a blank, puzzled expression on his face.

Andor scowled. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know Eva spoke with you just two days ago.”

Adelar pushed back his tray of eggs, fruit, and ham and set his clasped hands on the table. “And I told Eva I agreed with your decision — it was just too risky.”

“I’m sure that’s all you told her,” Andor said. “She’s just a child, Adelar, and the crown princess as well!”

The king sighed. Between dealing with family matters and the business of tallying the remaining winter stores, it was shaping up to be a long morning.

“Andor, you know just as well as I that Eva would have gone with or without our consent. She’s got too much of her father in her.”

The Lord Commander of the Windsworn ran his hands through his graying golden hair and rubbed his face. “And you know just as well as I do that being like Aleron isn’t always a good thing. I would have thought she’d see reason. When you told her she was going to be the heir…”

Adelar coughed and looked down at the remains of his breakfast.

“You didn’t tell her, did you? For sky’s sake, Adelar, you’re the king! You’re supposed to be the reasonable one!”

“And where has that gotten me?” Adelar leaped to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process. He spread his arms and gazed around the garden. “Do you have any idea how long I brooded over what happened with Aleron, how many years I’ve sat in this empty castle and wished for the chance to do things differently?”

“So this was all because of your guilty conscience?” Andor asked, fighting to control the last remnants of his temper. “What were you —”

“Enough!” Roaring, Adelar grasped his breakfast table and flipped it on its side. But even as dishes rolled past him, Andor refused to move. After several haggard breaths, the king let out a long sigh and let his shaking hands fall to his sides.

“Sometimes the right choice and the reasonable choice aren’t always the same thing,” Adelar said. Andor stared at his brother for a long moment, face blank.

“I hope you’re right.”

* * *

In a matter of days, gryphon wings carried the companions past rolling woodland hills that melted into cedar bluffs of pale clay. The only water came from small springs and ponds scattered at the bottom of the narrow washes and gullies. Eva knew it would be weeks before even a skiff of snow came as far north as they were but a lack of snow didn’t let the warm autumn weather tarry. They spent many a bitter night huddled around a small fire, their gryphons circled around them to hold in the warmth.

Any meat came from hunting, which Chel proved to be almost as good at as the gryphons. After a week, Eva reluctantly gave her back her bow and spear, hoping the gesture would be taken as a sign of trust. When they landed in the evenings, the girl set off into the brush, returning with a brace of jackrabbits or sometimes a small deer or wild pig.

If game proved scarce, they rationed out the fruits and nuts just brought in from the harvest that they’d taken from the Gyr. For the most part, the three gryphons fed themselves just fine. They hunted together and often returned with enough meat for their human counterparts as well.

To avoid tiring the older Belarus, Chel switched off riding with Eva and Fury part way through each day. Although Sigrid had stopped reaching for a knife any time Chel moved, Eva didn’t want there to be some kind of minor misunderstanding or “accident” that ended with Chel falling to her death if Sigrid got into one of her rotten moods.

At night, Ivan entertained them with a variety of Scrawl stories, tales of Altaris and Rhylance before the gryphons and Sorondarans came and legends of the long-dead ancestors he shared with Sigrid’s people. Whenever Ivan ventured to speak about the Ancients — members of a long-gone civilization that once spread all across Altaris — Chel stopped him and made a sign against evil.

“Better not to speak of them,” she muttered, a dark expression on her face. “They are gone for a reason. It is better we don’t bring them back with our words.”

When she wasn’t hunting or brooding over Ivan’s stories and the weather, Chel would sometimes share a story from her own people. Although she was reluctant to talk about her past — especially Aleron — if Eva was careful not to prod, she could catch the Juarag-Vo girl reminiscing.

“A good man,” Chel said when she could be prompted to continue. “Many times, he has saved us from danger, from the Smelterborn, and from the other Juarag. He is like a father to me.”

The first time she heard such a thing Eva felt a pang of longing jealousy cut her to the core. Long after Chel stopped speaking, Eva found herself resenting the childhood this stranger had with her father, a childhood she’d been denied. After everyone else fell asleep each night, Eva stared into the night sky and wondered how her life would’ve been different if her father had never been forced to leave Rhylance.

In even rarer instances, Chel spoke in a low voice about the Smelterborn. “At first they only came in small numbers, sometimes even one and not often. Then they came more and more. One day, they did not go away. They do not eat, they do not sleep, and they do not build. All they do is kill: kill my people, kill the herds and kill the land.”

“What did my father go looking for?” Eva asked.

“He would not say much,” Chel said. “But I think he knew where they came from, and that they had to be stopped. When I left over a year ago, our tribe had moved almost to the very northernmost part of the plains — the only place the Smelterborn had not come. They were moving west, driving the Juarag from their hunting grounds.”

Whenever Eva imagined Smelterborn marching in large bands, the thought filled her with dread. After facing just one of the golems, she had a pretty good idea what an army of the giant suits of armor would do against the Juarag, as ferocious as they might be on the backs of their sabercats. Eva wondered what these iron golems hoped to obtain, what could drive their conquest. From what she could gather they didn’t want the things that other conquerors wanted: land, loot or slaves meant nothing to them.

Following the king’s map and what little knowledge Sigrid had of the area, they pushed farther northward. The land changed again, this time scattered cedar trees to open expanses of broken rock and sagebrush, much like the Endless Plains but without the rich grasses to support the mighty herds. Given the terrain, the hunting was sparse, but thanks to Ivan and Chel’s expertise they also found tubers, roots and other edible plants to get by.

Although the weather warmed a little, they still flew low to the ground. Up higher the humans were in danger of frostbite or pneumonia. Eva worried about flying in bow range but each passing day revealed no sign of people as if the land was devoid of anything but themselves and the few animals that darted away when the gryphons passed overhead.

Devoid of living people, at least. Studying the ground below, Eva spotted the remnants of crumpled towers and pillars half-buried in the undergrowth. In between washes and broken, sagebrush-covered hills, crumpled bits of road and highway still showed through, long forgotten and reclaimed by the wilderness. The ruined buildings and byways hearkened back to a forgotten time, long before the gryphon riders when the Ancients and their empire covered all of Altaris.

One night they camped at the base of a fallen tower, now nothing but a ring of foundation stones as tall as a person. Ivan grew excited when he found some faded carvings in the rock on the inside of the ring, but even with Sigrid’s rudimentary knowledge of the ancient alphabet, they could only decipher a word or two.

“It’s some kind of waypost marker,” Ivan said. “It has a number marked down here although, I can’t tell where to or how far it is, only that it points somewhere to the northeast.”

“There is a city, an old city, there,” Chel said. They turned to look at her in surprise. “They call it in the ancestor’s tongue mathre cittal.”

Ivan gave a dry laugh. “The Mother of Cities? That’s a myth!”

“It is a real place,” Chel said, shaking her head at Ivan’s skepticism. “Traders from the north sometimes visit the Endless and speak of it.”

Ivan opened his mouth to argue but Sigrid cut him off. “You want to tell us what in the name of tempest you two are talking about?”

“The Mother of Cities is an ancient city that supposedly exists in northeastern Altaris,” he said with a shrug. “The story goes it holds the last living Ancients, although most versions say they’re a very watered down and incomplete lineage, just like the rest of Altaris natives. The hook is that it’s supposed to be filled with Wonders and other treasures, a city of riches if you will.”

Eva touched the opaque stone hanging from her neck beneath her tunic. It was such a Wonder — a powerful talisman of the Ancients that her father had brought back from his journeys to her mother. Aside from emitting a soft light that changed colors, it paled in comparison to stories she’d heard of other relics: swords that never rusted or needed sharpening, devices that predicted the weather, enchanted tools that could make anyone a master craftsman with no training, lanterns that made light without fire and more.

The only time Eva’s necklace had ever displayed such power was in her fight with Celina’s Smelterborn. She didn’t know why, but the light had blinded the golem and caused its life force to waver, ultimately leading to Celina’s destruction. The stone had also pulled Ivan from a trance but seemed to have no effect on Seppo the golem whatsoever. Eva treasured it more as an heirloom from her deceased mother than anything else and was content to draw strength from its soft light.

“Has anyone ever been there?” she asked.

Ivan shook his head. “Not anyone who made it back, anyway. The North is rough country to traverse, even if you know where you’re going.”

“The traders go there,” Chel insisted. “They bring weapons and tools from the mathre cittal to barter for furs with.”

Ivan gave an exasperated sigh. “I hate to break it to you but those traders are Maizoron. They’re from farther north and west, the sunshine lands. They make buildings out of clay and have large farms and plantations — those stories they tell you about the Mother of Cities are just so you’ll want their goods. There are no living cities and no people between the Endless and Maizoro.”

“I know what I know,” Chel said. She frowned and put her hands on her hips. “What about the horse people, then?”

Now it was Ivan’s turn to frown as they all looked at him. “Okay, yes. Technically you’re right. There are a few nomadic tribes that wander this basin. So what? Even if we do come across them we’ll be flying. There’s nothing to worry about.”

A few days later, however, Eva spotted a group of a dozen riders off in the distance. As they drew closer and rose out of bowshot, the horsemen spotted them. Some shook their fists and one of the more brazen riders loosened an arrow at them. It arced harmlessly well beneath the gryphons and struck the ground. Even so, an uneasy feeling gripped Eva and she pushed them even higher into the sky, nudging Fury to faster speeds.

In minutes, the horsemen disappeared behind them. Before they landed to water a few hours later, Eva insisted they scout around and make sure they were the only ones in the area. But even after making certain they were alone, the leery feeling of being watched never left her. They’d made a habit of taking a rest around midday, napping while one or two of the gryphons went hunting. This time, Eva insisted they continue flying once everyone had a drink.

Around early evening they came across another tower ring perched on a small hill overlooking the badlands. Although a few hours of light remained, Eva called a halt for the day. She knew she was being paranoid, but if anything were to happen, the tower ruins looked like the most defensible space for miles.

“I told you, there’s nothing to worry about,” Ivan said, grumbling as he swung out of Belarus’ saddle that evening. Fury clawed at the pale earth between the stones, annoyed he’d missed his noon rest. It wasn’t until Eva jerked his reins and shouted his name that the gryphon held still for her to dismount.

“Nothing to worry about?” Eva said. “They attacked us!”

“One arrow doesn’t quite make a battle,” Ivan said. “And we were well out of range. They don’t have a chance of catching us even if they follow.”

Taking a long pull from her canteen, Chel swished some water around in her mouth and spat. “They are people without honor, who raid and kill for sport.”

“And how does that make them different from the Juarag?” Sigrid asked. Chel rose and walked toward Sigrid, stopping an arm’s length away.

“They do not needlessly kill like the horse people.”

“Oh yeah?” Sigrid said. “I’ve sure seen a lot of corpses along the frontier outposts and homesteads that would beg to differ.”

The two girls took a step toward each other until their faces almost touched. Although Sigrid was almost half a head taller than Chel, the Juarag-Vo girl didn’t back down. As Sigrid reached for her knife and Chel tightened the grip on her hatchet hanging at her belt, Eva forced her way between them and pushed the pair of angry women apart.

“Enough!” Eva said, locking eyes with Sigrid. “We have plenty to worry about without fighting one another.”

Sigrid shoved Eva’s hand away and stomped off toward the fire Ivan had just finished. Chel watched her go, tracking every step Sigrid took.

“Let it go,” she said. “That’s just how Sigrid is sometimes.”

Chel shrugged. “She does not concern me.”

They ate in strained silence around the meager fire. Every time the brush crackled in the flames and threw shadows on the broken tower walls, Eva expected to see attackers pouring out of the darkness. But as the night passed, it proved to be as safe as any other on their journey thus far. Although the gryphons were calm, as sure a sign as any that no danger lurked, Eva couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched. When it came time to sleep, she insisted they post a watch.

“Not it,” Ivan said as soon as the words were out of Eva’s mouth.

Sigrid shot him a dirty look. “I’ll take the middle watch and the mighty Scrawl here can have last.”

“Guess first is mine,” Eva said. Chel looked at her as if expecting to be assigned as well. “You can sit up with me if you want.”

Ivan, Sigrid, and the gryphons soon drifted off to sleep, the emptiness of the night punctuated by Sigrid’s snorts and snores as she twisted in her blanket, oblivious to the world. To get out of the light of the fire, Eva climbed onto a section of the tower wall just taller than herself and settled down on the wide, flat stone. Chel joined her but neither of them spoke, each wrapped in their own thoughts as they gazed out into the darkness.

“Tell me more about my father,” Eva said several minutes later after she’d worked up the nerve to broach the conversation.

“I have already said he is very brave,” Chel said. With just the two of them alone, she seemed more willing to speak about Aleron. “But many times he is…sad. Once, he told me about a woman named Marien. I could tell he loved her very much. He has never taken a woman in our tribe. Sometimes he would stare off into the west and it was like he was in another place. I knew he was thinking about her.”

“She was my mother,” Eva said in a soft voice. She reached up and touched the Wonder stone beneath her tunic but at the moment its warmth on her skin provided little comfort.

“I did not know my mother,” she said to Eva. “She died when I was very young. My father blamed me for her death and often beat me because of it.”

“So you ran away?” Eva asked.

Chel shook her head. “As I grew, other…misfortunes happened around me. They were accidents, but I always seemed to be nearby when they occurred. People in my tribe began to call me cursed and banished me when I was still a small child. That is how I became Juarag-Vo.”

“Oh.”

Eva felt sick and ashamed of herself for being jealous of Chel. But as another long silence passed, Eva felt more like she was sitting with an old friend, who she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“What will you do when we return to your tribe?” Eva asked.

Chel shrugged. “They are not many of us left now. When I was little, other outcasts, other Juarag-Vo would find us on the plains, but we are so far north and the land is so unsafe that no one comes. The ones we have are those strong enough to fight and run when the Smelterborn come. The rest are all dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Eva whispered. She hesitated, then wrapped an arm around Chel. The other girl started at her touch but then relaxed.

“We must find him, Eva-lyn,” Chel said. It was the first time she’d spoken Eva’s name. “We will go to Aleron and my people will not have died for nothing.”

Her throat thick, Eva could only nod as silent tears ran down her face.

Chapter Nine

Eva woke to the sound of Ivan’s shouts blended with foreign screams that sent a chill running down her spine. She kicked off her blankets and leaped to her feet. Sigrid and Chel did the same nearby, everyone scrambling for their weapons, while the gryphons swiveled their heads in search of the danger.

“Down there!” Ivan yelled from his perch on the wall.

Eva scrambled up beside the Scrawl. In the early morning light, a half dozen horsemen thundered up the hill toward them. Hoofbeats pounding on the hard ground behind them told her more approached from the east as well. They’d be surrounded in seconds.

“Get ready!” Sigrid shouted. As Eva and Ivan leaped to the ground, Sigrid grabbed a spear and tossed another to Chel. Eva swallowed and drew her own sword. At the same time, Fury and the other two gryphons leaped into the air where they could be most effective. Eva wished she was up there with them.

The three of them gathered in the center of the tower, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Through a gap in the wall, Eva saw the horsemen drop their reins and reach for the quivers hanging from their saddles.

“Ivan, cover us!” Sigrid shouted.

The horseman nocked arrows to their bows. Eva glanced at Ivan. The young Scrawl stared at the riders, unmoving. They were well within range. No one had shields.

“Ivan!”

Eva’s yell seemed to yank him out of his stunned stupor and, as the riders drew back, Ivan shouted a string of words, and glowing runes sprang up across his body. Just in time, a gust of wind swept the arrows aside. Eva flinched as the shafts scattered around them, clattering off the rocks of the tower.

Seeing the summoned wind knock their arrows aside, the horsemen cursed in an unknown tongue and reached for crude swords. The tower entryway was wide enough for two riders to pass side by side, although some stone blocks had fallen over the opening. Eva guessed the riders were adept enough horsemen that the short barrier wouldn’t be much of a defense. Another section of fallen wall behind them presented the same problem. Even so, the large blocks gave the riders pause and they circled their horses outside, shouting and brandishing their weapons.

High above them, the gryphons waited on, circling and screeching madly. Eva held up a fist, the signal for Fury to continue holding. Until the riders were engaged, she didn’t want the gryphons swooping down into arrow range.

“Were you asleep?” Sigrid snarled at Ivan. “How did they get so close before you noticed them?”

“I was not!” Ivan yelled back. “I was just resting my eyes for a moment and next thing I knew they popped out of the dark. I don’t know where they came from.”

“Where they came from?” Sigrid said, voice incredulous. “There’s nothing around us for miles, you should’ve seen them ages ago!”

“Shut up, both of you!” Eva said, mind racing. She’d been in small scrimmages with the Juarag before but always in the air, and always with a dozen or more Windsworn at her side. This was a completely different story, and she knew there was a good chance one of them would be seriously wounded, if not killed. An old, familiar stinging clenched her stomach, and she fought the urge to throw up.

Sigrid looked at her and nodded. “Don’t think, just do.”

Throat tight, all Eva could do was nod. At the same time, two riders burst into the crumbled tower ring. Shouting to keep from sobbing, Eva swung her sword forward and was met by one of the curved blades of the riders. She stumbled back under the blow, hand ringing but managed to hold onto her weapon. Sigrid lashed out with her spear, catching her rider in the side. He toppled off the side of his horse just as three more riders fought their way through the gap. The dark-haired girl stumbled backward as the fresh horseman trampled their wounded comrade beneath their mounts.

Eva fought her way next to Sigrid, placing their backs to one another. In the confined space and at the disadvantage of being on foot while their attackers were on horseback, it was all they could do to defend themselves from the blows raining down overhead. By now, the circle was filled with riders. A gust of wind kicked up and Eva felt a searing heat on the side of her face as Ivan unleashed another conjuration. Horses screamed and went wild, kicking and fighting to get out of the circle, throwing a couple of the riders in the process.

Chaos ensued. Horses bucked and reared and flailed all around them, their riders forced to jump clear as they surged toward the gaps in the tower wall.

“Fury!”

Eva screamed for her gryphon as a man with long, bedraggled, black hair growled and lunged at her with his sword. Instinct drove away terror. Eva twisted to the side, using her own blade and the attacker’s momentum to knock his blow aside. Before he could recover, she reversed her swing and slashed the man across the throat. Gurgling, the rider dropped to the ground.

Eva stared, aghast. The man died at her feet. Her sword dropped from her grip. She was only dimly aware of the gryphons dropping like lightning into their midst. Her sickness and fear returned sevenfold and she staggered to the ruined wall like a drunk. Leaning against the cold stone, she expelled the contents of her stomach all over the ground and her boots.

Chel rushed to Eva’s side. For some reason, Eva couldn’t stop focusing on the splatters of blood across the girl’s face. The Juarag girl shouted something over the sounds of gryphons screeching and men and horses dying, but to Eva it sounded all muffled and distant. Chel shouted again, and this time Eva understood.

“It’s okay, Eva-lyn. It’s over!”

Bracing shaking hands on shaking knees, Eva glanced around the inside of the tower at the mess of death. About half of the riders were dead, the rest scattered into the badlands with their horses. Smoke filled the air, along with the cloying stench of what Eva told herself was only burnt horse. Sigrid walked among the bodies and paused to put a dying horseman out of his agony. When the task was done, she wiped her knife on his leather vest and stood up. The man lay still at her feet.

Eva shuddered and looked at the dead horsemen she’d killed with her sword. He stared back at her, mouth open, eyes dim. Another wave of sickness overtook her and she doubled over, but there was nothing left to come up.

“First kill?” Chel asked, placing a hand on Eva’s back to steady her as she swayed and retched. Eva gave a weak nod and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

They’d told her it would probably be like this. Told her since Drill Master Cross first put a sword in her hand and made her life hell learning how to use it. In the fights she’d been in on the frontier, Eva had somehow managed to avoid killing anyone, although Fury had ripped into his fair share of Juarag raiders. She’d thought it wouldn’t have been any different when it was her sword instead of his claws and beak. It was, though. As different as night and day, life and death.

“Everyone okay?” Sigrid asked, sheathing her knife. She looked over at Eva, who waved a hand and straightened her back.

Fury called out in concern and bounded to her side. Streaks of blood — horse or human Eva didn’t want to know — coated his beak and head feathers. Eva drew in a sharp breath when she saw an arrow lodged in his wing, but soon realized it was only tangled in the outer feathers — a minor injury given the intensity of the fight. With trembling hands, she reached up and pulled the shaft through.

Sven had a long, shallow cut in his side, but seemed no worse for the wear. He started rooting at the guts of a dead horse, soon joined by Belarus. Eva clenched her teeth and looked away. A thought struck her.

“Where’s Ivan?”

A groan sounded against the far wall near the gap in the tower base.Her own sickness forgotten, Eva rushed to Ivan’s side. The Scrawl lay slumped against a weathered block of stone, clutching a long cut on his right arm. Blood seeped through his fingers and dripped on the ground. Ivan’s face was ashen, a stark contrast to the dark blue rune markings across his head.

“Damn…barbarian,” Ivan said through gritted teeth. “Lucky cut…shouldn’t have been messing around.”

“Let me see.” Eva lifted Ivan’s hand away and winced as the blood started to flow down his arm. The cut didn’t go to the bone, but it was still deep.

While Chel searched the corpses for anything of use, Sigrid and Eva did their best to clean and bandage Ivan’s wound. Cutting strips from a spare cloak, they wrapped his upper arm tight, but without any needle or string to stitch the cut, the blood continued to seep through the bandages.

“Ow!” Ivan hissed as Sigrid tied the last strip of cloth in place.

“Oh, be quiet,” Sigrid said. “Maybe this’ll teach you not to doze during your watch.” But as she spoke, Eva saw the look of concern cross Sigrid’s face

Eva helped Ivan to his feet and together they navigated their way out of the tower. Passing by the dead, Eva focused on the sky above to avoid looking at the bodies. It didn’t help that all three gryphons were gorging themselves on the dead horses after days of lean hunting on the barren plains. Outside the tower ring, Eva heaved a long sigh, swallowing back the taste of bile.

“Can you ride?” she asked Ivan.

The Scrawl boy nodded. “You might have to help me up into the saddle though.”

Eva stared off into the badlands. Unbidden, an image of the man she’d killed popped into her vision, the look of surprise on his face as her sword sliced through his throat and he sank to the ground. She’d always known this day would come, but it had never seemed real, never seemed so…final. She wondered if she could have done something different, maybe wounded the man instead of killing him. Maybe —

“Eva!”

Sigrid’s voice drew her from her haze and she blinked, muttering an apology.

The dark-haired girl placed a hand on her shoulder and forced Eva to meet her eyes. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m good,” Eva replied, trying to force the dead man’s bewildered expression out of her face. She glanced down at the ground and made to move to help Chel pick up their camp. But Sigrid squeezed her shoulder, holding her in place until she looked back up at the other girl.

“It was either you or him,” Sigrid said in a soft voice. “He would have killed you without thinking twice about it, Eva. If they’d taken you alive, who knows what they might have done. They attacked us. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Eva nodded and winced as her sour stomach stabbed at her. “Let’s get out of here.”

They gathered their scattered belongings and took to the air as fast as they could manage with their wounds. Airborne, Eva watched Ivan and Chel across from her on Belarus. Chel rode behind him, occasionally reaching up to steady the Scrawl as he teetered in the saddle, clearly exhausted from the amount of rune magic he’d conjured and the loss of blood. Eva knew it was her fault he’d been hurt out in the middle of nowhere but was grateful Ivan had been with them. The attack would have gone a lot differently without the Scrawl’s aid. She just hoped he’d be okay

No more riders showed themselves throughout the day. Eva hoped they were flying out of their territory. Although they didn’t drift much farther north, the weather continued to warm until it was almost like the beginning of fall again. A few hours before sunset, Eva called an early stop and they settled down on yet another hill, this one scattered with boulders and scrub brush. Ivan looked even paler and would’ve fallen out of the saddle had Chel not been there to steady him when they landed.

They refilled their canteens in a small spring nearby. Eva and Sigrid changed Ivan’s blood-soaked bandages for fresh ones after cleaning off the dried blood caking his arm.

“Not much of a Scrawl,” he said in a faraway voice, staring at the cut in his arm like it was someone else’s body. “Can’t even heal up a little cut.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eva said, squeezing the hand on his good arm. “You used a lot of power today. Rest up. I’m sure tomorrow will be better.”

But she wasn’t sure. Eva and Sigrid shared a concerned glance as they returned to their gryphons to settle them down for the night. Although it was uncomfortable for the animals after a fight and a day of flying, Eva and Sigrid decided to leave them saddled.

“Why can’t he heal himself?” Sigrid asked in a whisper so Ivan couldn’t hear.

Eva shook her head. Ivan should have recovered enough during the day to invoke a healing kenning, but Chel told them he hadn’t done any magic at all. “Maybe he just needs a bit of rest.”

Chel managed to find them some rabbits and tubers for dinner, but Eva waved them aside, settling only for water. Although her stomach clenched and twisted from both hunger and sickness she didn’t feel like she could eat anything yet. Instead, she sipped water and studied Ivan wrapped in a blanket across the fire. He was unusually quiet, eyes staring off past the campfire into the darkness. He held his wounded arm against his chest, like a bird cradling a broken wing. Every once in a while he shivered and used his good arm to pull the blanket closer around him. The flow of blood seeping from his wounds had slowed some but he lost quite a bit through the day. Eva could see his exhaustion in the haggard lines breaking up the rune markings on his face.

The gryphons, full from a heavy meal of horse that made Eva even sicker just thinking about, settled down and were asleep before the humans were even done eating. Eva volunteered for first watch, hoping she’d be able to sleep the rest of the night through but knowing sleep would be a long time coming as she replayed the events of the battle over and over in her head.

Unlike the night before, both Sigrid and Chel fell asleep almost at once, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She wondered if the man had had a family, someone waiting for him back in camp, that would curse her name for taking their loved one from them. Remembering Sigrid’s advice she tried to push such things from her mind. She’d always known this moment would come, and wondered how she would be able to face it.

While some riders, like Sigrid, were able to brush off the feeling, at least on the outside, Eva knew others that were haunted so much they left the Windsworn, vowing to never take up arms again. She found herself somewhere in the middle, haunted by demons of the dead, knowing the call for arms would come again.

Late that night, Eva gazed around the harsh, windswept plains while everyone else slept. Until now, the journey had felt more like an adventure with close friends than a matter of life and death.

With Ivan’s injury, the seriousness of their quest weighed on Eva, Soot’s words of warning sprang to her mind. She knew she’d been more concerned about meeting her father, what he looked like and sounded like, than with the dangers of the journey. The night sky seemed endless. Beneath the distant light of the stars, Eva suddenly felt very small, very alone and very foolish.

Chapter Ten

When Chel relieved her of the watch, Eva fell asleep faster than she thought she would. However, her sleep was plagued by a vision of Ivan standing before her. They were back inside the tower, the gryphons worrying at dead horses, bodies of the men strewn all around where they’d left them unburied for the vultures and crows.

“Why did you let them kill me?” Ivan asked. Unlike before, it wasn’t just his arm that was cut. He had a deep gash going all the way through his chest, his face gray and his eyes sunken with dark circles.

“You’re not dead!” Eva tried to tell him. “I didn’t let you die. I killed a man!”

“And they killed me because you couldn’t be brave enough. You’re a coward and you hesitated.”

Eva reached for Ivan, trying to tell him that she wasn’t a coward, that she had been brave and fought like the rest of them. But her hand passed through the Scrawl like he were a ghost.

“You’re not dead!” She yelled at him. “You’re not —”

“Eva!”

Eva gasped. Sigrid knelt over her. She realized she’d been dreaming but her heart continued to race. The first orange and red rays of morning shone on the horizon. Chel and Ivan, along with the gryphons, were still asleep. Eva sat up, wiping the sweat away from her forehead. Sigrid offered her a canteen and she took a long, deep drink, the cold water hitting her empty stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten anything that had stayed down in almost a day.

“You were thrashing around and saying something but I couldn’t understand what,” Sigrid said.

“It was just a dream,” Eva said, as much to herself as Sigrid. “I’m worried about Ivan.”

Sigrid’s brow creased as she looked toward the Scrawl. He lay curled in a ball, muttering under his breath and clutching the blankets tight to him.

“It would’ve been good if we could have stitched the wound shut, but I think he’ll be fine as long as it doesn’t get infected,” Sigrid said. “I was hoping after some rest he’d be able to heal himself a little as well.”

Eva didn’t say anything, just stared at Ivan, biting her lip. She knew she was completely responsible and Ivan’s condition did nothing to make her feel like she’d made the right choice to drag them all out into the wilderness.

“He’ll be fine,” Sigrid said. “I haven’t seen an injury Ivan can’t heal — just don’t tell him I said that!”

Eva smiled at the joke and nodded. When Ivan and Chel woke, they ate a sparse meal of tubers and the last of the harvest fruit they’d brought with them from Rhylance. Her appetite returned, Eva scarfed down her portion. It did little to satisfy her aching stomach.

Ivan drank only water, although Eva thought some of the color had returned to his face. When they checked his bandages before taking flight, the blood had slowed and only oozed out of the ragged cut. Although he still didn’t have much to say, the Scrawl could stand without swaying and didn’t seem to to be as weak.

They continued on, little changing below them save for the placement of the next boulder-clustered hill or pile of ruins. Contrary to Eva’s hopes, Ivan grew worse the second night after the attack from the horsemen. Although he gathered enough strength to attempt a rune kenning to help heal the wound, the magic had no effect on the cut and left him weaker than before he’d started. On the third day, Ivan burned with fever. When they unwrapped his bandages that evening, his arm was swollen and a ghostly white tinge crept around the edges of the cut, seeping a pale ooze.

“Infection,” Sigrid said, wrinkling her nose at the stench of the wound.

Ivan glanced down at it with fevered eyes. “Blade must’ve been poisoned. It’s something I’m not familiar with…the runes and kennings aren’t doing anything to counter it. Every time I try to heal it, I only get weaker. I don’t understand…”

“Maybe I can help?” Chel offered. “I was raised by a shaman among the Juarag-Vo. I may be able to find herbs to help the infection, although I am not learned in poisons.”

She hunted for half a day until she found a collection of plants, most Eva had never seen or heard of. Her medicines kept the infection from getting worse over the next few days but Ivan showed no signs of improvement, nor did his rune kennings have any effect.

On the fifth day, they could barely get the Scrawl into the saddle and had to tie a rope around his chest so Chel could keep him from falling off from the motion of Belarus’ beating wings. They were forced to stop around midday when the Juarag girl almost lost him. By nightfall, Ivan shivered uncontrollably, no matter how many cloaks they piled on him or how hot they stoked their fire.

Eva stared at her friend and felt her insides clench. “This is all my fault,” she said to no one in particular. Sigrid gripped Ivan’s hand in her own while Chel bathed his forehead with a cloth and began chanting in her native Juarag tongue.

“Stop that!” Sigrid hissed, reaching for her knife. Chel sat back, confused and alarmed.

“I am only trying to help,” she said.

“How do we know that?” Sigrid asked. “You could be cursing him!”

Chel held up her hands and twisted her arms around. “I have no rune magic. See? I mean no harm. I am only saying a prayer to the spirits of the plains. If it bothers you, I will stop.”

Eva knew she should step in to keep the two from coming to blows, but all she could do was stare at Ivan, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Chel pulled back the blanket and did her best to carefully undress the wound while Ivan convulsed. Eva winced. The cut had turned black around the edges and pale jagged lines spread outward across his arm from the cut.

“You must hold him!” Chel said again as Ivan started jerking harder. Eva stared.

“Eva!” Sigrid yelled, for the moment allied with Chel in their efforts to get through to Eva. “Get over here!”

Eva shook her head and rushed to Ivan’s side. Joining Sigrid, she tried to hold down the Scrawl’s shoulder while he thrashed. Ivan’s eyes rolled wild in his head and spittle foamed between his clenched teeth.

“Hold him!” Chel yelled, trying to prepare the fresh bandage.

“We’re trying!” Sigrid shouted back.

Ivan fought against them with manic strength. As she struggled to hold her friend, the necklace holding Eva’s Wonder stone slipped between the buttons of her shirt. A blast of pale golden light knocked Eva, Sigrid, and Chel backward.

Shielding her eyes, Eva scrambled to cover the Wonder. Once she had it cupped in her hands, the women sat up, blinking at one another.

“What in the tempest was that?” Sigrid asked.

Before Eva could answer, however, Chel pointed to Ivan. “Look!”

The boy lay still on the ground, breathing calm and regular. He looked the most at peace Eva had seen since the attack. Seized by inspiration, Eva held the glowing stone closer over Ivan’s cut. For all its power, however, the light did nothing to heal the wound. Eva’s heart sank.

“Well, it’s a start, anyway,” Sigrid said.

Still holding the stone on its necklace over Ivan’s bare shoulder, Eva tried moving it closer and further away, but it made no difference. After its first radiant display, the stone dimmed to a glow far more bearable to look at. Now that Ivan was laying still, Chel began dressing the wound. When she finished, Eva held the Wonder over Ivan once more, he continued to sleep peacefully although the spidery, ghostlike lines remained.

“Your Wonder might have slowed things down but I don’t think it’s going to be enough to make him better,” Sigrid said. She didn’t add what they were all thinking: if they didn’t figure out something, Ivan wouldn’t last much longer.

“You don’t think I know that?” Eva snapped. Her anger hadn’t meant to be directed at Sigrid but it poured out just the same.

“Don’t yell at me,” Sigrid said, giving it right back to her. “I’m not —”

She stopped but it was too late. “I know,” Eva said. “I’m the one who brought us out here. Don’t you think I realize that? Don’t you think I’ve thought about that every day since Ivan got hurt?”

“Please,” Chel said, looking between the two of them. “Let him rest.What’s done is done.”

Sigrid rounded on the Juarag-Vo girl, eyes narrowed. “A lot of help you’ve been, sticking weeds and who knows what else in his wound, no wonder it got infected.”

Chel clenched her shaking hands into fists and vented a frustrated scream. “You stupid woman! You know nothing.”

“Hey…” Eva stared into the darkness trying to make out the white shapes in the distance. Were they rocks? On the opposite side of the fire, all three of the gryphons’ heads shot up as well.

Sigrid snarled and crouched in a fighting stance. “Come on then. Let’s see what I know knocking you on your ass!”

The white things moved. Unless Eva was hallucinating, rocks didn’t move. The gryphons rose onto their feet, tails swishing.

“Hey!”

Both girls ignored Eva and advanced toward one another. The white shapes were much closer now, close enough Eva knew without a doubt they were people. Fury hissed, his fur and feathers rising.

“STOP!”

Eva’s shriek gave both girls pause. Sigrid and Chel turned to look where she pointed. Just outside the fire, a line of people watched them in silence. Daubed in white paint, Eva wondered if they were ghosts.

No one moved as the two groups stared at one another. The group was a mix of women and men, clothed in tattered rough spun robes. Although they didn’t appear to have any weapons aside from walking staves, they didn’t seem concerned about the gryphons. On the contrary, each wore a long, forlorn expression and appeared wan and underfed. A couple of wide-eyed children peered through the adults’ legs.

Eva, Sigrid, and Chel glanced at one another. To reach their weapons — aside from a couple of small knives — they would have to leave Ivan undefended on the other side of the fire. The gryphons crouched behind them, ready to spring, but Eva held up her hand.

“We mean you no harm,” she said in a loud voice. If they understood, the white-painted people gave no sign.

A man in the middle of the line studied her. His eyes were circled with charcoal, — combined with the white paint, it gave his head the impression of a skull. Numerous piercings covered his lips, nose, brows, and ears. He was shirtless and had a few rune markings daubed on in black and yellow but Eva saw no real rune tattoos. His weathered skin made his age hard to guess, but he might have been old enough to be her grandfather.

“You…” The man’s voice came out hoarse and broken. He seemed to be struggling to find the words in their tongue and gestured to the sky. “The light?”

After a confused moment, Eva realized he was talking about the light her Wonder had made. She cursed silently. Although it had helped steady Ivan, the light must have been visible for miles across the badlands.

“Yes,” she said, then added as an afterthought. “We mean you no harm, we are travelers. Our friend is hurt.”

The man stared at her with an unreadable expression. Soon, his dark, empty eyes drifted down to Eva’s chest and he cocked his head to the side. Eva’s skin crawled and her Wonder stone felt heavy beneath her shirt. Somehow, he knew it was there, knew where the light had come from.

At last, the man broke his gaze and turned his attention to Ivan. Although the Scrawl had slept through everyone shouting, he looked frail in the flickering light of the fire. Seeing the tattoos on Ivan’s shaved head, the man’s eyes rose. He hid his surprise well, but several other members of the group pointed to Ivan and whispered among themselves in their own tongue.

“He is…sick,” the skull-headed man said. “That wound — the Hippirio?”

Eva looked at Sigrid and Chel, but they both shook their heads. No one knew what the word meant. Seeing their confusion the man frowned and tried again.

“The…horse?”

“Yes,” Eva said, realizing they meant the raiders. “He was cut on the arm and is very sick.”

“Maelar.” The man spat on the ground. “He is need of cure or will die.”

Eva’s stomach clenched. “Can you help him?” she asked. “Please!”

The man shook his head. “I cannot cure. Must go makre cittolis.”

“Where?” Sigrid asked.

The man furrowed his brow and waved his hands in frustration when the word escaped him. “Makre cittolis.”

“Do you know what he’s saying?” Sigrid asked Chel.

The Juarag-Vo girl started shaking her head then stopped. “No, but it sounds like —”

“Mother of Cities!” Eva shouted as understanding struck her. “Is that what you mean?”

The man nodded, vigorously. “Mother City, you say, yes. Can cure friend.”

Eva’s heart leaped as new hope surged through her. “Where is it? How far is it?”

The man stretched out a wrinkled but muscled arm toward the east. “Is three days.” He looked back at the saddled gryphons. “Me thinks…tomorrow if fly?”

“Thank you,” Eva said. “Is there anything we can do to repay you?”

If it weren’t for the group’s strange body paint and haunted expressions she would have rushed forward and hugged the man. She wished she had some food to leave them, but their supplies were almost exhausted and game to hunt had dwindled to nothing the past few days.

The man shook his head and reached around his neck to remove a peculiar beaded necklace with a crudely carved hammer head. He held it out to Eva.

“Take this and show when get to Mother City. Will get help.”

Eva held out her hand and stepped forward. When the wooden necklace hit her hands, a chill ran through her. An overwhelming impulse to hurl it into the bushes overcame her. Instead, she forced herself to close her fingers over the talisman and flash the man a strained smile.

“We must now go,” the man said. He grinned, revealing a mouthful of gray teeth. Eva realized with a shudder that they were made of iron. The man’s eyes fell to her chest again, to the exact spot her Wonder rested on her breastbone and lingered there several moments until he turned away. Without another word, the group melted into the darkness.

“Well that was weird as all get out,” Sigrid muttered after the strange people disappeared.

“I did not like them,” Chel said, wrapping her arms around herself as if warding off a chill.

Looking down at the talisman in her hand, Eva had to agree. She felt the Wonder stone grow cold against her skin and proceeded to wrap up the man’s so-called gift in a spare blanket and stuff it in one her saddle bags. Whatever hope the man’s word promised felt wilted away. But then she saw Ivan, his chest rising in shallow breaths and knew the Scrawl could not last much longer.

Eva drew in a deep breath and sighed, running her hands over her tired eyes and through her dirty, tangled hair. “What other choice do we have?”

Sigrid opened her mouth to say something, but just shook her head and shrugged instead. “It’s your call.”

“I do not think this is a good idea, Eva-Lyn,” Chel said. “There is a reason the Juarag do not go to the north. It is not a good place. This Mother of Cities does not sound like a good place.”

Eva felt a wave of guilt wash over her again. Sigrid must have noticed it because she shot Eva a glance that told her not to apologize again. “Don’t say anything. Nobody forced us to come, we all chose to. I chose, Ivan chose and — well for Chel it wasn’t much of a choice, but still. This isn’t your fault.”

Eva swallowed her words and blew out another long sigh. “We leave for the city at first light.”

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, they bundled up Ivan as best they could and lifted him onto Belarus’ back. Unlike before, when he had been able to climb into the saddle and stay upright, it took both Sigrid and Eva to hoist him up. Already on the gryphon, Chel held Ivan in place while they tightened the leg straps on the saddle. Ivan was awake but stared at nothing in particular with glazed eyes. Whenever they talked to him, the Scrawl answered with a mumble or a brief nod.

“We’re going to get you taken care of,” Eva said, squeezing his leg before parting to get on Fury. “I promise.”

They flew low to keep Ivan from catching a worse chill. Meanwhile, Sigrid and Sven flew ahead holding a northeast direction. Ivan’s condition remained the same throughout the day, but they still made frequent stops to ensure the journey didn’t wear him out.

“The wound is beginning to smell, even with the bandages on,” Chel said in a low voice, far enough away that Ivan couldn’t hear. “He burns with a fever as well, Eva-lyn.”

“Just keep doing the best you can,” Eva said.

Later in the afternoon, Sigrid circled back around to them. She waved an arm and Eva and Chel brought the gryphons down to speak with her.

“There’s quite a few people ahead,” the dark-haired girl said. “Quite a few like the nuts we saw last night. They’re all headed in the same direction.”

“The Mother of Cities,” Eva said.

“Until they saw me, they were walking like the living dead — nobody singing, or shouting or anything else, not even the children. It’s like they’re heading to a funeral or something.”

“I still do not like it,” Chel said.

Eva glanced at her saddle bags on Fury where the talisman had remained since the night before and felt the same sense of dread building in her. She pushed it aside, knowing no matter what awaited them in the city, it couldn’t be worse than Ivan dying. “Let’s get going,” she said. “We must be getting close.”

They continued flying throughout the afternoon and into the evening, the lines of people stretching out for miles in every direction. Every kind of person imaginable passed below them: some on foot, herding sheep and goats, others riding horses or carts pulled by donkeys and ponies. Just like Sigrid said, they moved in relative silence for a group of people so large, the cries of the animals the only sound that punctuated the dust-filled dusk. Whenever they passed overhead, the people pointed and stared. Eva had them rise to a greater height but none of the travelers showed any violence toward the gryphon riders.

And then they saw it.

The sun had melted down to a candle-like stub, illuminating what could only be the Mother of Cities on the horizon. Like flies to a torch, all the people and herds below moved toward the city. Eva wondered where they had all come from until they drew closer to the city and it stole her awe.

The Mother of Cities sprawled like a fat old woman across the top of a large bluff with even more buildings spilling down both sides. The walls were built from coarse red stone, worn down by centuries of wind and rain. Half of their towers were crumbled like the nubs of broken teeth and contrasting colors of rough patchwork marked spots where the seamless walls had finally given way to the decay of time.

Behind the sagging battlements, clusters of buildings rose up, with no rhyme or reason to their design. In the orange glow of dusk, Eva picked out a few stone buildings standing tall and firm in the midst of squalor. She guessed those were the architectural remnants of the ancients whereas the multilevel adobe and wood shanties making up the rest of the city’s structures didn’t look as if they would last through a mild windstorm let alone hundreds of years of wear.

Although it might have just been because of the dying light, Eva couldn’t see the other side of the city. It stretched on into the darkness until swallowed by night. In the center of it all, however, a gigantic square building, untouched by weather and wear, reigned over the sad remains of its former glory. An enormous rectangular slab of stone jutted out of the middle of the building. It looked so big and ancient that Eva guessed the city had been built around it. Even from a distance, it looked larger than the ships Eva had seen along the coast of Pandion, a giant crown for the old crone of a city.

“How many people you think fit inside that thing?” Sigrid wondered aloud when they pulled their gryphons up close to one another and hovered beyond the city walls.

“Too many,” Chel said.

“Well, we found it,” Sigrid said. “Now what?”

Eva felt her face flush. In her haste to find Ivan the help he needed she hadn’t thought to how they’d actually enter the city, or give the talisman to one of its residents. “We’ll…land outside the walls, I guess?”

“And wait in line with everyone else to get in?” Sigrid said, motioning to gates positioned on the city’s west and south facing sides. Hundreds and hundreds of people formed a solid line outside each of the gates, its tail growing longer and longer as more people sought entry into the city. Once more, Eva wondered what they could all be coming for. Surely all of them didn’t live inside the city all the time?

“Let me go on ahead,” Eva said. She knew Ivan didn’t have time for them to come up with some elaborate plan. “One gryphon is a much smaller threat.”

Sigrid sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Huh. I don’t think much intimidates them but go ahead. How long before we come rescue you?”

“Hurry,” Chel interrupted. She reached around Ivan to reposition his cloak and pull him upright as he slumped forward over Belarus’ neck. “He does not have much time.”

“And we can’t just fly in circles forever,” Sigrid yelled after her as Eva and Fury flew toward the walls.

Drawing closer, Eva saw a ragged assortment of guards patrolling the battlements. As Fury approached, they started yelling and pointing into the sky. Several rushed toward still-standing towers, no doubt to inform their commanders of the flying intruder. Eva directed Fury away from the gates before their presence worked the travelers into a frenzy. The last thing they needed was their first impression to incite a riot.

When Fury and Eva drew within bow range of the city walls, she directed the gryphon higher into the air. Dozens of archers poured out of the towers and guard houses, stringing their bows and placing arrows to strings. In the crowded streets within the Mother of Cities, she saw people screaming and running inside their houses.

Eva cursed her lack of planning. At their current height, it would be impossible to communicate that she came in peace. At the same time, she didn’t want to risk dipping down into shouting range for fear that she and Fury would end up filled with arrows like a pincushion. Fury, sensing her indecision let out an impatient screech, wiggling in the air as they hovered above the walls.

“I know, I know!” Eva said, “I’m thinking, alright?”

From her vantage point, Eva knew there was nowhere to land within the city that would allow them to get back in the air before being overrun. She’d almost decided to return to the group when the massive stone slab and accompanying building in the city center caught her eye. Gritting her teeth, Eva urged Fury toward it as fast as she could.

Thousands of torches lit up the city like a field of fireflies but Eva focused her attention on the enormous building ahead. Drawing close, she saw another set of walls around gardens and fountains that marked the structure as some kind of palace or temple. On the southern side of the building, a large courtyard was outlined by torches. Flying over top it, Eva spotted a startled collection of robed individuals.

Although it was hard to tell from her vantage, Eva didn’t think they were soldiers. Many of them resembled the bald, white-painted man they’d met the night before. More guards raced across the courtyard and onto the inner walls before one of the robed men raised his hands. Fury vented his frustration in a long, ear-splitting screech which did nothing to calm the soldiers.

One man, however, seemed to take charge. His dark red cloak shimmered in the torchlight, setting him apart from the others who were bare-chested or wore tan robes. Although Eva couldn’t hear what he was saying, the man in the red robes started speaking to one of the guards. Eva waited with every bit of patience she could muster, knowing how short Ivan’s time grew.

A few moments later, the ranks of archers lowered their bows and returned their arrows to quivers. The red-robed man looked up at Eva and she saw his face was painted with white and black in a similar skull pattern. He held up a small hand and then pointed to the courtyard. The soldiers and tan-robed men cleared a spot, indicating she should land.

“If anything happens, fly back and warn the others,” Eva told Fury as he began a spiraling descent. The gryphon chirped as if to indicate he’d already been planning on leaving her behind if something went wrong.

Fury’s talons scraped on the stone of the courtyard and he gave one last flap of his powerful wings to show everyone he meant business. Eva’s heart pounded and her head spun with fear. Only the thought of Ivan, sick and dying outside the city walls kept her from flying away. Using every bit of courage she could muster, she stepped down out of the saddle. The red-robed man approached her, stopping well outside of Fury’s reach but much closer than any of the others dared.

“Who are you to come to the Mother of Cities in such a manner?”

He had a deep, commanding voice radiating power. With his shaven head and robes, Eva would have taken him for a Scrawl, if not for a lack of rune markings on his head. She reached into the saddle bag and yanked out the talisman. When the tan-robed men saw it, they began murmuring to one another.

“My name is Evelyn of Rhylance,” Eva said. “I was traveling east and one of my companions was injured in a battle. I came across a group of people like you — one man gave me this and said I might find healing here for my friend. We are peaceful.”

The man paused to consider her words. When he shifted his stance his robes moved as well and Eva noticed rune markings on his chest, although the handful of characters wasn’t even close to how many Ivan had, let alone a Rune Master. The talisman seemed to grow heavier and Eva wished the man would take it. She’d almost convinced herself to jump on Fury’s back and fly away when the man finally spoke.

“This priest you met was right to send you here,” he said. “My name is Anarchos. I am steward and high priest of the Mother of Cities. Where is your injured companion? I may be able to help him.”

“Am I allowed safe passage to bring him to you?” Eva asked, looking at the guards who still fingered their bowstrings.

The high priest nodded. “I swear it. The word shall be spread. None will harm you while you are under my protection. Collect your friends and return here, to the Temple of the Ancestors.”

“Thank you!” Eva shouted, already climbing onto Fury. “I will return shortly.”

Urging Fury faster and faster into the sky, Eva pushed aside all feelings of unease and dread. With every beat of Fury’s wings, she told herself Ivan would make it. For the first time in days, she felt real hope.

Chapter Twelve

“I do not like this,” Chel said for the dozenth time since they’d landed. It might’ve been more — Eva lost count. A crowd filled the square in front of the temple, jostling over one another to get a glimpse of the gryphons and their riders. A ring of guards in mismatched clothing and armor held the onlookers at bay at the edge of the ring. Eva noted none of the people tried to push forward, or even speak with the armed men and women. A cracked fountain stood in the center of the open area, a small gurgle of water spreading a green ooze down the side.

Sigrid grasped her weapons, both her and Sven’s eyes darting around, like a pair of caged animals. Belarus and Fury were likewise cagey and spun in circles, wary of putting armed guards at their backs. Eva hoped none of them would start a fight while she and Chel worked to untie Ivan from Belarus’ saddle as the gryphon let out another nervous call and twisted away from them yet again.

“It’s going to be fine,” Eva said, as much to herself as Chel. “Look for a man in red — he’s the governor. That’s who I spoke with.”

“Welcome!”

Behind them, the governor stood on the large stone steps leading up to the temple. Despite the limited space for the audience, Eva noticed none of them ventured onto the steps, aside from the red-robed man and a few guards. He raised his hands in greeting atop a short platform flanked on either side by crumbling, half-naked statues. Most were so far gone Eva couldn’t say if they were male or female, let alone guess at who they might be.

“On behalf of all people who call the Mother of Cities their home, please, consider yourselves our guests.” When he finished speaking, the man lowered his hands and strode down the remaining steps. As he reached the people, the crowd parted without any encouragement from the guards trailing behind him. Most looked on in reverence but a scattered few in the front smashed themselves back against the people behind them like they would catch a disease if they got too close to the red-robed man.

“I do not —”

Eva hushed Chel before she could finish then forced a smile on her face. When the man drew close, she clasped her left fist to her chest in the customary Windsworn salute. “Thank you, for your hospitality, Lord Anarchos.”

Anarchos gave a full-bodied laugh and shook his head. “Lord? Oh no. I am but a humble priest of the Ancestors in stewardship of this city and her people.”

“Just Anarchos then,” Eva half said, half asked, the need to get Ivan help more pressing than formalities. She gestured to the Scrawl, lying on the ground. “Please, can you help him?”

The governor-priest’s brow furrowed at the trembling Scrawl. By the time Eva returned to the others, Ivan had drifted out of consciousness. Now he lay limp on the ground, save the occasional mutter or twitch. His eyes were sunken and shut, despite the jostling of their landing. Eva stepped aside and the governor knelt down next to Ivan and placed a painted hand on the boy’s brow.

“We believe the weapon that cut him had some type of poison or —”

The governor held up a hand to silence Eva. “There is no time to waste, we must be quick.” He stood and clapped his hands at the armed men who’d trailed him down the temple steps. Then barked out an order in a language Eva didn’t understand. Four of the guards stepped forward and gently lifted Ivan between them.

“Come,” Anarchos said, gesturing for them to follow as the soldiers began carrying Ivan away. “We must get him to the temple before it is too late.”

Without waiting to hear Chel’s likely objections, Eva followed the governor up the steps. The Juarag-Vo girl fell in behind her, grumbling under her breath. Sigrid brought up the rear with the gryphons close behind. As if sensing their movement, the governor turned around and raised a questioning eyebrow at Eva.

“Our gryphons are used to staying near to us,” Eva said, choosing her words carefully so as not to insult the man or insinuate they might be in danger from their new hosts. “Would it be possible for someone to wait outside the temple with them?”

“That will be fine,” Anarchos said. “I will spread the word that the creatures are not to be approached.”

They climbed the long steps to the temple doors and Eva felt the great shadow of the stone slab above them grow until it loomed over them like a foreboding storm cloud. Glancing up, she realized for the first time just how big it was, and wondered if the Mother of Cities had been built around it, or if some miraculous magical feat had raised it there. The sides of the stair were lined with other broken statues, many with rune inscriptions at their bases. Like the others, however, these were so worn that only a couple of characters were decipherable. Still, Eva got the impression they were walking a hallowed path, a causeway of heroes and great deeds long forgotten to the outside world.

Glancing up at the gigantic stone doors marking the entrance of the temple, Eva’s heart froze. On either side of the entry, a colossal golem kept watch. She stopped so suddenly that Chel ran into the back of her as Eva reached for her sword. It wasn’t until the blade was halfway out that she realized the statues weren’t alive. Instead of fire burning through the eyeslits of their helms, Eva saw only darkness. Although they stood proud as the day they’d been crafted, dark green spots and bits of corrosion flecked the bronze golems. When Eva realized they lacked the runes and iron armor of the Smelterborn she’d faced in the Gyr, she heaved a shuddering sigh.

“Is…something the matter?” Anarchos asked. Somehow, the priest had sensed they’d stopped and raised another quizzical eyebrow at Eva.

“N-no,” Eva said, trying to regain her composure. “It’s just a lot to take in. Your temple is truly a magnificent structure.”

The governor’s face split into a wide, proud smile. “Indeed, it is one of the last surviving monuments of the Ancient World. I would be happy to give you a tour, once your friend is taken care of. But please, no more delays!”

Inside the temple, they came first to a large, spacious chamber with plenty of room for the gryphons. At the other end of the room, the base of the stone slab served as an entire wall with a small altar raised before it. Everywhere Eva looked, she saw various rune carvings, some letters she knew but most in an unknown script. She was relieved to find no more golem-like statues, lifeless and bronzed or not. Eva looked at Sigrid to see if she was studying the carved letters but the dark-haired girl’s hawk-like expression focused on the men carrying Ivan, one hand resting on a long knife at her belt.

The governor and his procession walked past the altar almost as if it wasn’t there, however, and continued around the left side of the stone slab deeper into the temple. Eva wondered why he hadn’t asked them to leave the gryphons behind but the passage ahead left plenty of room for the creatures to traverse without problem. From the outside, Eva hadn’t understood the depth of the temple — coming from the south, the gigantic, rune-covered stone made it impossible to see behind. Now inside, it seemed to carry on forever.

A motley collection of braziers, burning and smoking, lit their way. There were lanterns as well — a few cracked and flickering from the crystal within such as were found inside the Gyr. Once again, Eva felt an overwhelming sense of lost grandeur, felt the shadow of time in the spaces between the weakened lights.

They emerged into a hall with a long balcony on one side. A large chamber loomed below them on the left. Here, many priests like the one who had visited their camp, both male, and female, were daubed in white paint, naked to the waist. All had many piercings in their face, and the same painted runes on their exposed skin. They huddled near the walls and it took a moment for Eva to realize they were studying miniature lines of script carved into the stone. The back side of the giant stone slab made up the southern wall in the room and the scope and skill of its rune made the others the priests examined look like a child’s scratchings. None of the painted people looked away from the runes as Anarchos led their group past.

A couple of turns brought them back outside into a sort of arboretum surrounded by walls. Unlike the rest of the landscape outside the Mother of Cities, thick green grass carpeted the ground, as well as vibrant flowers and a wide variety of trees, some with long, thick, spear-shaped leaves Eva had never seen before. Another fountain, similar to the one out in the courtyard but in better condition, bubbled in the center of the flora. A steady stream of clear water gushed from it, producing a peaceful, soothing sound as it lapped against the stone of the basin.

Surrounded by high, thick walls that looked in much better repair then the rest of the city structures, the garden stretched into a long causeway about the length of two bowshots. Along the stone walkway, Eva saw a number of smaller buildings within the walls of the temple grounds, all of which appeared devoid of inhabitants. At the far end, the path led up yet another set of steps to a separate building within the walls that looked like a smaller version of the temple.

“Your creatures are welcome to stay out here,” Anarchos said, pausing to gesture around the garden while the others bearing Ivan continued toward the smaller building down the way. “None will bother them, you have my word. All I ask is that they remain on the ground so as to not frighten the people. We will continue into my private chambers to take care of your friend.”

Eva hesitated. She was unwilling to leave the gryphons alone, but the only armed people she’d seen were the governor’s men and women. Their party seemed to be the only ones in the garden as well. Sensing they were about to be left behind, Fury, Sven, and Belarus cried out in protest, tails snapping behind them as they rustled their wings and the hair on their backs rose in alarm. Sigrid made to stay with them but Eva shook her head, hoping the governor hadn’t noticed. She didn’t want to say it out loud but she wanted Sigrid with them in case something went wrong. Although her unease had abated, a lingering caution dogged the back of her mind.

“We’ll just be down there,” Eva told Fury, as she smoothed his ruffled feathers and bristled fur. “Don’t worry boy, you’re safe here.”

The red gryphon shot her a look that said he no more believed they were safe than she did. Even so, he shook his head and sat down on his haunches. Eva hurried to catch up to the priest before Fury changed his mind.

They walked between rune-inscribed columns into the building across the garden from the temple. A smaller replica of the temple’s enormous stone slab jutted up out of the middle of the main chamber and the guards laid Ivan down at its foot before retreating to either wall, where they assumed a stance as motionless as the bronze golem statues.

Eva, Sigrid, and Chel gathered around Ivan, but the high priest waved them back a few paces. With careful hands, he lifted aside the cloaks swaddling Ivan and frowned when he saw the stained strips of cloth on the boy’s arm. Holding the arm in the air, the man unwound the makeshift bandages from around the wound and tossed them aside, careful not to touch the blood and infection. Eva fought back the urge to retch as the stench of the cut wafted over them, stronger than ever.

The priest drew his nose within a finger’s breadth from the wound and sniffed. How he could take in the overpowering stench of rot, Eva didn’t know. “Belgari,” he hissed, turning his head to spit as if the smell were poison in his mouth. “Maelar.”

Eva recognized the second word — the painted priest on the plains had mentioned it when he saw Ivan’s wound.

“Bel-what?” Sigrid asked. She looked at Eva who shrugged as well.

“Belgari,” Anarchos repeated. “The Unwritten — the people of the steppe, enemies of the Ancestors. Their weapons have maelar, blood magics that poison and infect the Inscribed like your friend, prevent them from using the runes to defend or heal themselves. Death, after all, always conquers life.”

Eva looked down at Ivan’s pale features and noticed how gaunt his skin was against the bones of his face, stretched and thin. Angry red and black lines ran down the veins in his arms and up across shoulder, hungry claws stretching for head and heart.

“Can you help him?”

The priest pursed his lips, the rings in his brows and nose bunching together. “The poison can be drawn from the wound, but it is a difficult process — very dangerous. He may not survive.”

Eva bit her lip, feeling guiltier than ever for what she’d done to her friend. She couldn’t bear the sight of him wasting away before her eyes. Searching for support, Eva turned to Chel and Sigrid but both girls’ faces made it plain that Eva would have to be the one to decide.

“If I do nothing, he will most assuredly die.”

“Very well,” Eva said. She looked as the rune scars across the man’s body. “Can your rune magic help him?”

“No!”

The governor spoke with such force that Eva jumped backward and Sigrid reached for a knife. When he saw their reactions, his sudden burst of fire faded away. “No, neither do any in the Mother of Cities. Not anymore, at least. But that does not mean we are not learned in the ways of the Ancestors. I believe I can heal your friend.”

From deep within his robes, Anarchos withdrew a talisman similar to the one Eva had passed on to him from the painted man: two equal lengths of rod crossing one another with a dark stone in the middle. At the man’s touch, the stone flared to life with dark orange light. Eva gasped. Just like her necklace, Anarchos’ talisman was a Wonder. Beneath her shirt, Eva felt the stone on her mother’s necklace pulse with warmth, although it emitted no telltale light that would have revealed it to the governor and his guard.

“Whatever happens, do not touch him,” Anarchos said to them. “The poison of the blood magic can claim another host when it is being expelled.”

Eva nodded, mouth dry.

The man raised the Wonder and waved it above Ivan. At first, Eva thought they were random motions but the closer she watched she realized Anarchos drew out rune letters in the air. Each time he completed a character, Ivan tensed and arched his back, groaning and thrashing his head side to side. The priest ignored Ivan’s reaction and continued drawing symbols, lips racing in a muttered and undecipherable language. The longer he went, the more extreme Anarchos’ motions became, his face twisting into a grimace from the efforts.

Ivan’s thrashings worsened and it was all Eva could do not to rush to his side and hold him down. At the same time, some of the red, grey and black lines seemed to retreat back toward the cut itself. When the priest slumped backward, Ivan remained unconscious.

“Well, that didn’t work,” Sigrid said.

Eva shot her a scowl but said nothing as she felt hope seep from her.

“This is a powerful wound,” Anarchos said, panting for air. “I am not sure my telesma is powerful enough to combat the blood magic.”

Eva fingered her necklace chain hidden beneath her shirt. Half of her said to keep it hidden at all costs, although she couldn’t say why. On the other hand, she realized her Wonder stone, combined with the priest’s, might be Ivan’s only chance. Another glance at her friend made up Eva’s mind. His head lolled to the side and his breathing grew shallow. Eva knew then that nothing would compare to the blame she would feel if he died.

“Is there anything I can do?”

She pulled the Wonder out of her tunic and the pale stone burst to life in an array of golden, blue and pink light. The governor-priest’s eyes went wide and she heard the guard against the walls gasp as the stone’s light continued to grow, far outshining Anarchos’ talisman. The man wiped a shaking hand across his perspiring forehead and continued to stare at the stone despite its brightness.

“Are you learned in the use of the telesma?”

“I-I’m not sure what you mean,” Eva said. “But I’ll try.”

The priest motioned for Eva to kneel beside him then took the hand holding the Wonder stone and guided it over Ivan. “Remember, you must not touch him! Hold it like so, while I attempt the drawing once more.”

Eva swallowed hard and nodded. Anarchos began chanting and moving his telesma above Ivan’s chest while Eva tried to hold her Wonder steady. Ivan shuddered as soon as the priest began, then sat upright so fast Eva barely had time to move her arm out of the way. The priest chanted louder and louder, shooting Eva a look of encouragement when she faltered.

Ivan’s eyes snapped open and he twisted his head around like a feral beast that didn’t recognize any of his surroundings. As soon as he’d jerked up, however, he fell back on the ground and Eva almost forgot not to touch her friend, pulling back just before she reached for his head to keep it from hitting the stone floor. Ivan slobbered out nonsense, frothing and spitting in an unintelligible tongue. Eva wanted to close her eyes and plug her ears — anything to get the horrible sounds and sights out of her mind. But she forced herself to watch. Forced herself to witness what her actions had done to her friend. At last, when Eva didn’t think she, let alone Ivan, could bear anymore, Anarchos pressed his talisman hard onto Ivan’s chest.

Ivan went still, his skin as sunken and gray as a corpse. For several moments, he drew no breath. Eva’s heart sank into impossible depths. They’d waited too long.

But then Ivan sucked in a long, deep gasp and then another. He started coughing and Anarchos rolled him on his side as he heaved up black sludge. When he’d expelled the last of dark ooze, the priest helped him sit up.

“Wha —”

The Scrawl’s eyes rolled back into his head and Anarchos lowered him to the ground, clear of the putrid black puddle beside them. “He will be fine now, but needs plenty of rest.”

Eva’s jaw ached and she realized she’d been clenching her jaw during the entire healing. She worked her mouth around and tucked her Wonder back into her shirt with a clammy, shaking hand. “Thank you,” she said. “How can we repay you for your service?”

Anarchos stood and motioned for his guards to gather Ivan once more then wiped his hand on his robes as if he’d done nothing more than a simple chore. For a moment, a hungry look passed over his face and Eva feared his answer, but then the priest smiled. “Please, think nothing of it. What is the purpose of a healer if not to heal? I have quarters you may stay in while your friend rests for a day or two.”

Eva ignored Chel’s angry face and she smiled back at the man. “Thank you, that would be much appreciated.”

“Good, very good.” Anarchos clapped his hands and from out of some side passage nearby, a small girl with a shaved head appeared. “You will be given a place of honor in the garden houses where your creatures may remain close by your sides. I will send for you later to join me at the table and to check on your friend. For now, please try to rest. Your sorrows are over — you are welcome in the Mother of Cities for as long as you wish.”

Chapter Thirteen

Ivan grew stronger in small increments over the next few days until at last Eva knew the Scrawl was going to be alright. He soon returned to his old self but refused to talk about what he remembered from the days of delirium following the fight with the Hippiriot horsemen. From what Eva could gather, the dreams and delusions had been almost as bad as the pain from the wound itself. When he recovered enough to understand where they were, it was all they could do to keep him in bed until he was strong enough to walk.

“I can’t believe the Mother of Cities is real,” he said, shaking his head. When they told him about the temple he grew even more excited. “This could be one of the oldest places of rune lore in all of Altaris! I’ve got see it all.”

Anarchos visited often and, although he remained kind and courteous to all of them, seemed to have a special interest in Ivan. Most of his questions revolved around rune magic and the priest asked very little about their journey or purpose in traveling so far east.

“I have something special prepared for you tomorrow,” Anarchos told them once Ivan was able to rise from his bed and walk on this own. “It has been a long time since a rune master walked the streets of the Mother of Cities and never have we been blessed with a visit from gryphon riders. We shall hold a feast in your honor!”

True to his promise, Anarchos sent temple acolytes — more young children — to assist them in preparing for the feast. They took them first to the bathhouse beneath the temple, the bubbling, warm water reminding Eva of the hot spring within the caverns of the Gyr. The children seemed enthralled by the presence of the outsiders, even if they couldn’t speak a word of the western tongue.

After refreshing themselves, Ivan, Eva, Sigrid, and Chel found new clothes laid out for them in their separate chambers. The women were given soft cream-colored tunics and pants while Ivan had a maroon robe like Anarchos. As soon as they were ready, a small boy escorted them to the feast.

Instead of going back into the temple, the acolyte led them down the parkway and up the small hill to the smaller building across the garden. Inside, they passed the stone slab where Anarchos had healed Ivan. Glancing down at the floor, Eva recalled Ivan’s thrashing and a shudder ran through her, despite the warm weather. They passed down a winding hall until the soft murmur of voices echoed through the stone passage. When they reached the feast hall an exotic sight greeted them.

Hundreds of dishes covered a long wooden table stretching the entire length of the room, surrounded by milling people, talking, laughing and eating. Like everything in the Mother of Cities, there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to their dress. Some were clad in plain, roughspun clothes, while others wore extravagant outfits, bedecked in jewelry and body paint. Strange music from instruments Eva couldn’t name floated over the assembly.

Ignoring the other guests, the young boy led them to the head of the table where Anarchos was seated. As they passed the other guests, many halted their conversations to watch them and Eva grew uncomfortable feeling dozens of eyes on her. When Anarchos saw them, however, he broke into a wide smile and spread his arms in greeting.

“Welcome, my friends! It is so good to see you. Please, be seated. I have reserved chairs of honor for you.”

Standing, the governor bowed before each of them and directed Ivan to the seat closest to him. Eva sat down and glanced at Sigrid and Chel. The Juarag-Vo girl stared around in shock, wide-eyed. Eva doubted she’d ever been in such confined spaces with so many people before. Sigrid, on the other hand, had eyes for nothing but the food and was already heaping her plate with anything she could reach.

“I am curious to know, what draws four young people like yourselves eastward?” Anarchos asked. “We seldom see anyone aside from our nomadic brethren and have never had visitors from across the mountains.”

Everyone looked at Eva, unsure how to answer. She glanced down at the table, hoping to find inspiration in the corn, melons, and plates of meat.

“Scouting,” she answered, hoping the pause hadn’t been too long. “The Juarag are moving west, we think because of invasion.”

Anarchos nodded. “I have heard tales of the ferocity of the cat raiders to the south. It surprises me that any would dare invade their hunting lands.”

“Not someone,” Ivan said. “Something — giant iron golems.”

The governor raised his eyebrows. “Automatons?”

Ivan nodded. “The very same. We don’t know where they came from or what their motives are, except that they kill all in their path.

Anarchos sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin, as if in a sudden deep thought. “Long have I studied the ways of the Ancestors, and yet it is only a brief glimpse into the might of their culture. Even so, it is known that these automatons brought about their destruction.”

“Please,” Eva said, her appetite suddenly gone despite the lavish food surrounding them. “Is there anything else you know about them? We are hoping to learn anything we can to take back to our leaders.”

The governor shook his head. “That is almost the extent of my knowledge. Few records were kept after the wars with the automatons reached an end. You are welcome to access what we have gathered, although only you, Ivan the Inscribed, would be able to decipher the language.”

“Sigrid may be able to help, too,” Eva said. Just as she spoke, Sigrid shoveled in a mouthful of squash and could only nod as she struggled to keep the food from spilling past her lips. Eva cringed, but Anarchos didn’t seem to notice or was too polite to react.

“Why are there so many travelers coming into the city?” Eva asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from Sigrid’s poor manners.

“It is a great celebration, the like of which has not been seen in this part of the world for hundreds of years,” the priest said. “Summons were sent far and wide. The Mother of Cities has grown large with her children once more. I hope you will remain with us throughout the festival?”

Chel shot Eva a look similar to the one she’d just given in turn to Sigrid. “We…would be honored,” Eva said.

Anarchos grinned and raised a goblet to toast his guests. “Excellent.”

While Ivan continued to recover, the friends spent the next week enjoying all of the finery and luxury the Mother of Cities had to offer. From food and drink to clothing and entertainment, Anarchos provided them with everything they could have wanted and more. They passed most of the day’s heat beneath the cool shade of the garden’s flora or inside the cool, mud plastered houses. The gryphons were likewise content, fat, and happy eating and lounging around after days of hard travel.

Eva knew it couldn’t last, but Ivan, Anarchos assured her, was still a week or so away from being able to travel. Considering herself accountable for his injury, Eva’s desire to make sure Ivan was completely healed before leaving the city outweighed her urgency to find her father. At least she kept telling herself that. If she admitted it, a safe place to rest from the road was a hard thing to leave, too.

When night came and cooled the hot stone of the city, the high priest assigned them guides to show them the many wonders inside the temple grounds. They rarely ventured outside of the temple due, Anarchos said, to the sheer number of people filling the streets. Eva watched them from the walls, a wild scattering of cultures and looks, swarming through every open space. Each night, strange and wild music filled the air along with other sounds of jubilee as the city’s visitors celebrated the festival.

In the meantime, Ivan pored over countless tomes in the governor’s archives of ancient texts. The broken history of the Mother of Cities captivated him. Although he joined them for meals and entertainment, the Scrawl spent the majority of his time conversing with Anarchos or studying the runes in the temple with the other priests.

“It’s very strange,” he said. “This city — well, at least the temple, is clearly of ancient Palantine make and design, but somehow their rune lore has diminished over the ages. I would imagine the temple fell into ruin for some time and then the city built back up around it.”

Sigrid and Eva let him talk on and on, happy he was feeling better but with no real interest in the history of the Mother of Cities. Chel, on the other hand, roamed the temple grounds like a caged cat, annoying and tiring them with her impatience.

“When are we leaving, Eva-lyn?” Chel paused in her pacing and placed a hand on her hips, staring at Eva with an accusing look.

“We jush gob her!” Sigrid protested around a mouthful of grapes. She swallowed them in one big gulp and grinned, purple juice running down the corner of her mouth.

“The problem,” Sigrid continued wiping her chin and reaching for an apple, “Is that you haven’t spent enough time in a city. You're acting like a cat in a lightning storm. Relax!”

Chel shot Sigrid a withering look. “There is something strange about this place.” She pointed to Eva. “You said so yourself when we first came here!”

Eva sighed. They’d had this discussion almost every day since the first night in the city. “I was just being cautious is all.”

"Maybe you just miss someone trying to kill us?” Sigrid suggested.

“Or maybe, I remember why we came here in the first place!” Chel said, a snarl in her voice. “To find your father!”

A wave of guilt washed over Eva. She opened her mouth to say they were resting and recovering, that Ivan was studying and learning about the Smelterborn, but the words rang hollow in her head before she could ever speak them.

Finally, after another week passed, the Juarag-Vo girl would not be detained any longer. “I am leaving with or without you tomorrow,” she said one night, folding her arms across her chest. “Ivan is better, you know this. It is time to leave.”

Eva sighed but she knew Chel was right. “Okay, okay. Let me see if I can speak with Anarchos tonight and ask if they will give us supplies. We’ll leave the following morning, I promise.”

“Tomorrow would be better,” Chel said, arms still folded. “But yes, this is good.”

Knowing their last evening of luxury was coming to a close, Eva and Sigrid lounged about their small veranda, catnapping and waiting for nightfall and the music, dancing, and feasting that went hand in hand with each sunset. Although she’d been sated by the promise of departure, Chel remained restless as ever and finally left them to walk around the grounds.

At last, Eva knew she couldn’t put off speaking to Anarchos any longer. She rose from her hammock, brushed her hair and slipped on a pair of sandals. The evening was warm but not to the point of being hot, a perfect night in the Mother of Cities, especially considering the cold temperatures gripping the lands to the south with the advent of late fall.

“Are you coming with me?” Eva asked Sigrid. The dark-haired girl sat on the edge of her cot, sharpening her array of blades.

“Think I’ll go check on the gryphons — make sure they’re not too fat to fly,” Sigrid said. She rose with a long yawn and a stretch.

Enjoying a final stroll through the exotic flowers in the temple gardens, Eva wandered down the pathway, flanked by vibrant hues of scarlet, sapphire, lavender and more. She paused to watch a swarm of fireflies dancing over the pond and fountains. When she reached Anarchos’ chambers, she glanced back over the beauty one last time before climbing the final stairs and hailing the guard. She waited in front of the smaller stone slab while an acolyte notified the governor of her visit. The shadows born from the cracked crystal lanterns and flickering braziers cast an ominous darkness throughout the empty halls.

“Eva?” The priest walked around the side of the stone tablet without a noise and Eva jumped at his voice. “What can I do for you this evening?”

“Thank you for seeing me,” Eva said. She felt her stomach do a flip as she tried to figure out how to let Anarchos know they would be leaving.

“I hope you will be joining us for the feast this evening? It will be our grandest celebration yet for tomorrow is the Day of the Ancestors. I would dare wager the event will be more spectacular than anything you have ever witnessed.”

“Uh, yes, I’m sure it will,” Eva said. “I look forward to it — but what I came to tell you is that we must leave the following morning. We are beyond grateful for your hospitality, but the time has come for us to continue on our journey.”

Eva glanced up at the priest to gauge his reaction. Instead of being offended, however, the man looked confused. “This is sad news indeed,” he said, voice heavy with regret. “Would that it were possible to persuade you from your course. If the land eastward is indeed threatened by automatons, I fear for your life and the lives of your friends.”

“Thank you,” Eva said. She relaxed — everything was going to be fine. “I wish that we could stay here, but it is our duty to learn more about the Smelterborn, no matter how dangerous the journey ahead might be.”

Anarchos shook his head. “I am afraid the journey may be more difficult than you know.” The priest stepped forward, lips peeling back into a cold grin that turned his face into a gaping skull in the faint light.

“What — what do you mean?” Eva stumbled backward, wanting to put as much space between them as possible. She reached to her side out of instinct, only to realize she’d left her sword back in their quarters. Behind her, the guards shifted, blocking the doorway to the gardens.

“There is a lesson, dear Evelyn, that every man, woman, and child who comes to the Mother of Cities knows: nothing is given without something expected in return.”

The priest’s hungry eyes sent a chill through Eva’s body as a dozen terrible things drifted through her mind. She had no weapon. She had no way to let the others know she needed help. “What do you want from me?” she whispered, terrified to know the answer. Struggling to focus, to think of something — anything she could do to escape, Eva, tore her gaze away from Anarchos and saw the empty hallway behind him. Her only chance.

“Tomorrow, you and your companions will pay the price in full,” Anarchos said. A deep booming sound, like distant drums down the hallway behind the priest. Eva tried to step to the side as he continued to speak, preparing to run for her life. But the pounding noise grew closer and louder. Something about it seemed familiar and Eva’s Wonder stone began to pulse, giving her pause.

“Ah, it seems another of our honored guests is coming to call,” Anarchos said, still grinning.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Could Eva feel the floor shaking? She looked up, and for the first time, notice the height and width of the hallway. And then she knew why that sound was familiar. The last time she’d heard it, she’d been in the depths of the Gyr, but at least she’d had Fury and Ivan with her. This time, she was alone. Each step of its iron boots on the rock caused her to tremble until the Smelterborn stepped around the corner into sight.

The golem’s orange-fire eyes seemed to gleam when they landed on Eva. Its plate armor was made of the same smoke-colored iron, engraved with dark runes of death and destruction. Somehow, the Smelterborn was more terrible than Eva remembered from her fight against Celina. Truly, she had nowhere to run now.

Taking advantage of the Smelterborn’s commanding presence, Anarchos snaked out a hand and yanked the Wonder stone chain from Eva’s neck. For a brief moment, white light burst throughout the room and the Smelterborn held its enormous iron hands to its eyes. Whatever hope Eva might have felt, however, grew dim along with the stone as Anarchos placed it in its hand. The light blinked out at once. The priest waved a hand to his guards.

“Take her.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Hey Eva, I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”

Eva shot Ivan a withering look. “For someone who can supposedly see into the future, you sure don’t do much to keep us out of these situations.”

“Well, that was before they locked us into a cell, wasn’t it?” Ivan said. The Scrawl shook out his hands, growling in frustration and tried another kenning. Nothing happened. “Bastards must have slipped me something that’s dulling my connection with the runes. I can’t even make a spark!”

“They could do that?” Eva asked. She felt an even greater despair and mentally kicked herself even harder for being fooled. “How long does it last?”

Ivan shrugged. “There are certain combinations of things that can inhibit a Scrawl’s ability to summon runes. It’s hard to say — it might last a few hours or a few days, there’s no way to tell.”

Eva buried her face in her hands. Without Ivan’s abilities, Chel was their last hope. When the guards dragged Eva off to her cell beneath the arena, she’d hoped that her friends had gotten away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for Sigrid, Ivan or the gryphons. The priests had lured the gryphons into the cavernous cage with food and when Sigrid came to check on them, they’d locked her in first. Eva came next, the guards holding a blade to her throat lest Sigrid or the gryphons try to attack them and escape when they threw her in the cell. Last was Ivan, who’d been drugged and dumped in with them sometime in the middle of the night.

They hadn’t brought Chel yet. Eva didn’t know if this meant she’d been killed resisting capture or if she’d somehow escaped Anarchos. She hoped it was the latter and cursed herself yet again for not listening to the Juarag-Vo girl.

“Let us out of here, you snakes!” Sigrid shouted in a hoarse voice. She’d been yelling and shaking the bars for hours to no avail. No one came and no one seemed to care. Frustrated, the dark-haired girl slumped to the ground and smacked the sand of the cavern floor with her hand.

“I’m sorry,” Eva said, the weight of her poor choices pressing down on her in the darkness. “I’ve led us from one bad decision to another. If Ivan hadn’t been hurt and I suggested we come here —”

“Oh shut up, Eva.”

Eva looked up, surprised to hear Ivan’s voice instead of Sigrid.

“If we hadn’t come here, I’d be dead,” Ivan continued. “Captive is better than dead at any rate.”

“Huh,” Sigrid said. “When I get my hands on that scrawny priest…” She brought up her hands in front of her, wringing an imaginary neck.

The night passed with none of them getting any rest. Confined in the darkness, the angry gryphons paced the small cavern, scraping at the sandy floor, hissing, and screeching. The humans fell silent, each choosing a wall and staring out past the iron bars. Eva found herself lost in a hundred different questions: Why was there a Smelterborn in the Mother of Cities? Was it the only one, brought life by Anarchos as Celina had done? Or was Anarchos in league with the Smelterborn from the east? Each possibility sounded worse than the last.

No guards came to visit them and Chel made no appearance. Eva’s stomach knotted, wondering what had happened to the girl. She couldn’t imagine Chel hiding very long, even in the crowded streets of the Mother of Cities. As far as Eva knew, it was the first time she’d ever been in a city.

On the other hand, maybe Chel had left the city completely to continue searching for Aleron. Why hadn’t Eva listened to the girl’s warnings and left days ago? She asked herself this question over and over, sleep eluding her until the first orange rays of light shone on the sand outside the cavern in the arena. About an hour later, Anarchos entered the chamber, flanked by guards. Eva found some small relief that the Smelterborn hadn’t come with them.

“Ah, my valued guests,” the priest said, spreading his arms and giving them a warm smile as if they’d just arisen from their beds and not spent the night confined in a dark cavern. “I am glad to see you well this morning.”

“Let us out!” Sigrid shouted, throwing herself at the bars.

The priest tisked and shook his head. “I must say, if all of your people have as poor manners as the three of you, I do not think I would like to visit your lands to the west. Don’t you know you’ve been given a very special honor?”

Eva didn’t think it was possible for her stomach or heart to sink any lower, but they did. “What do you mean?” she asked, knowing she didn’t want to hear the answer.

“Today is the Day of the Ancestors,” Anarchos said. “And you will be the crowning centerpiece of our celebration.”

“How about you come in here and we’ll start celebrating early?” Sigrid said, baring her teeth and clenching her fists.

“I would save that anger if I were you,” the high priest said. He toyed with a chain at his throat, and with a sickening wrench, Eva realized it was linked to her Wonder stone. “You are going to need to if you wish to survive the trials we have prepared for you.”

“And if we survive these trials, you’ll let us go free?” Ivan said. He’d been in the back, trying to summon another kenning with no result. The priest shrugged.

“That is up to the people themselves,” he said. “You, inscribed, will not be participating, I am afraid.”

“What do you mean I won’t be participating?” Ivan said, face going pale beneath his tattoos.

“You’re much too valuable to be wasted in an arena spectacle,” Anarchos said. “We will study you and learn how the runes of the Ancestors are still working within you. And you will tell us everything you know.”

Now it was Ivan’s turn to bunch his hands into frustrated fists. “Like tempest, I will! I’m not going to tell you anything you storming snake! I’ll roast you alive!”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Anarchos gestured at Sigrid and Eva. “Your friends, however, will be willing participants in our festivities.”

Sigrid spat and scowled. “What makes you think that?” Eva asked.

The high priest raised a hand and the guards around him drew back their bows, arrows on the string. “If you don’t I will fill your beloved pets with so many arrows they will look like porcupines. We have the other girl and will kill her as well. How does that sound?”

With that, he snapped his fingers and a handful of guards approached the door and lifted the chain and lock. The rest kept their bows trained inside the cage. Eva knew at that range they could hardly miss if they tried — an arrow that close would go right through a person or deep into a gryphon.

“You will all step away from the front of the gates,” Anarchos commanded. “Except for the Inscribed. If anyone makes any move, or if the boy resists, we will kill you all. Is this understood?”

Eva and Sigrid nodded and urged the gryphons toward the back of the cavern. Fury hissed and let out a blood-curdling screech. Afraid he would charge, Eva lifted a hand to his beak, whispering in his ear. After they were against the back wall, Anarchos nodded and the guard opened the door. Ivan shot them a helpless look as the guards cuffed chains on his arms and legs and led him out of sight.

“Well this just keeps getting better and better,” Sigrid said, hurtling a handful of sand through the bars of the iron gate after they left. “I bet even if we survive whatever this thing is, he’ll still kill us.”

Eva nodded and the grim reality of their situation sank even deeper into her. “So what should we do?”

“Fight, what else?” Of course, that was Sigrid’s suggestion for everything. At the moment, Eva didn’t see any other options, though.

“Guess so.”

They waited for another handful of gut-wrenching hours, watching the sun rise beyond the mouth of the cavern until it shone straight down on the pale arena sand, as blinding as fresh-fallen snow. A dull murmur began outside and grew louder, signaling a gathering crowd. Even in the shade of the cave, sweat ran on Eva’s face and dampened her hair. She swallowed, throat dry, stomach rumbling although she knew she was too sick to eat, even if their captors would have brought them anything. At the moment, she might have killed for water, let alone freedom.

The sounds of the crowd continued to grow and the guards appeared again, a score of them this time. Eva saw them drop a bundle outside the cave where the shadows met the sun in the arena. The man who led them wore a scarlet sash draped around his shoulder and a second piece of cloth wrapped around his head. His bare chest was a crisscross of scars. As he drew closer, several of the other men nocked arrows to their bows and drew back. The man with the sash pointed to Eva and Sigrid and waved them forward before pointing to the gryphons and holding up a hand.

Sensing their riders were about to be taken from them, the gryphons went into a frenzy and attacked the iron gates, slashing the bars with their claws and beating them with their wings. The archers fell back in surprise and raised their bows to fire. At the last moment, Eva and Sigrid jumped between the terrified men and the gryphons, waving their hands.

“Don’t shoot!” Eva screamed, half expecting to be filled with half a dozen arrows. “Don’t shoot!”

She turned to Fury and managed to catch his eyes. He shook his head, feathered chest heaving as Eva reached up and petted the short feathers between his eyes.

“Sshhh, it’s alright boy,” she said, choking on her emotions, tears running down her face. “It’s alright. Everything’s going to be…”

Try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “Go to the back,” she managed to get out. “Go the back, now’s not the time to fight. Trust me.”

After a long moment, the gryphons backed away from the bars, heads lowered to the sand, hissing. Eva and Sigrid stepped forward, raising their hands in the air.

“Fight or die,” the man in the scarlet sash said. “Weapons out there. We leave, you go get them.” He pointed to the bundle his soldiers had deposited outside the cavern at the edge of the shadow. Eva and Sigrid nodded to show they understood.

Two guards stepped forward and unlocked the chain around the iron gates. As soon as Sigrid and Eva were through, they locked them again. This sent the gryphons into another rage, but they remained in the back of the cavern. The guards who didn’t have arrows on bows surrounded them with spears. They herded them to the bundle of weapons and then backed away at the edge of the sunlight, disappearing up a set of stairs carved from stone behind a small iron-studded door.

Sigrid unwrapped the bundle and grunted in small satisfaction. Their weapons were lying inside the canvas. Eva picked up her sword and spear, feeling a pang of longing for her lost necklace. Sigrid finished sliding the last of her knives into her belt and chest scabbard and picked up her spear, giving it a practice swing.

“You ready for this?” she asked Eva.

Eva tried to speak but her throat tightened every time she opened her mouth. She thought she might throw up all over her friend if she tried again. Instead, she gave a curt nod, a complete lie. The crowd started cheering outside as if sensing something was about to happen.

“Eva…,” Sigrid said, clearing her throat. “If we die —”

“We’re not going to die,” Eva said, surprised to find her voice. Her heart hammered in her chest harder than Soot beating on the anvil in his forge. Her hands tingled and felt lifeless and it was all she could do to hold onto her spear.

“Right,” Sigrid said. “Let’s get after it, then.”

Exchanging one last look, the two Windsworn stepped into the blinding sand of the arena.

The roaring crowd hit them like a hard, northern wind. Eva almost staggered back against the sheer volume of it. She blinked, raising a hand to shade her eyes and looked around the pit, surveying their surroundings for the first time.

The back side of Anarchos’ quarters rose up above the arena walls to the right, indicating they were north of the temple gardens. Eva squinted and saw the priest sitting in a large stone chair beneath a shaded cover, Ivan chained and at his side. The walls of the arena circled them all around, at least twice as tall as a person on horseback. Even though they were made of rough sandstone, Eva doubted they’d be able to climb out. Citizens and pilgrims packed into every available space in the seating above, crammed onto benches, hanging from columns and arches. They screamed and jeered like a pack of wild dogs who smelled blood on the hunt.

A collection of rocks formed a short, broken platform in the center of the sand. Rusted iron gates, guarding dark caverns similar to the one they’d been kept in ringed the walls. Columns circled the entire pit about a stone’s throw from the walls, but other than these features, the place looked to be empty.

“What do you think we’re supposed to do, tumbling tricks?” Sigrid asked, shouting to be heard over the noise of the crowd.

Eva shrugged, wondering what cruel trick Anarchos had conjured up for them. “Maybe —”

The harsh shriek of rusted metal on rock cut through the roar of the crowd. Directly across from them, Eva saw a portcullis raise. An enraged scream reverberated through the darkness beyond before a gigantic, light tan cat leaped into the sand. The beast yowled again, revealing a mouthful of yellowed fangs, the front two “saber teeth” almost as long as Eva’s sword.

Sigrid shook her head. “Damn.”

Eva could only stare at the creature as it prowled the opposite side of the arena, screaming in rage at the spectators far out of its reach. She’d seen a handful of sabercats during her patrols on the frontier, but whether it was because she was on the ground instead of in the air or just a product of her fear-laden mind, this specimen looked almost twice the size of the others.

Sheer muscle stood out against its scarred, filthy hide. The veteran markings of many battles tortured captivity brindled its lean body. Either way, the sabercat looked furious and hungry for blood, its tawny head jerking around in an attempt to take in the crowds, matted ears laid back.

“Eva!”

Sigrid was already running. Eva took off after her, ducking behind the circle of columns on the far side of the arena opposite the sabercat. Even as she ran, Eva knew they couldn’t evade the creature forever. The beast could cover the entire width of the arena in the time it took them to run a quarter of the distance, and there was nowhere to hide or get out of its reach.

Fortunately, the stench from thousands of people masked their scent and the sabercat had yet to spot them. It paced back and forth, baring its impossibly long fangs and batting the air with paws the size of shields. Eva guessed it had been in the arena before otherwise it would be trying the walls.

She recalled Celina’s sparring instructions. Although the woman had tried to kill her in the end, before she’d become entirely possessed Celina had spent countless hours teaching Eva the art of war. Even though she’d been a slow learner at the start, Eva couldn’t help but hone her skills under the tutelage of one of the Gyr’s mightiest warriors.

Always be on the offensive.

Eva snorted, still following Sigrid from pillar to pillar. She doubted Celina had fighting a sabercat on foot with no armor in mind when the commander had given that advice.

“Got any bright ideas about how to kill this thing?” Eva shouted to Sigrid as they continued to dart behind columns, staying as far away from the roaming sabercat as possible.

“Yeah,” Sigrid said in between breaths. “We’ll need to stab it a few times.”

“Oh good,” Eva said, breathing hard as well. “Was worried we didn’t have a plan and would die a gruesome death without putting on a show. I’d hate to disappoint our audience.”

They paused after running about a quarter of the distance around the arena circle, the sabercat across from them, partly hidden by the cluster of rocks in the center of the pit. Peeking out from behind the column, Eva followed its movements as it continued to pace, drawing closer to the tunnel they’d emerged from. Overhead, the crowd booed and screamed in frustration at the lack of blood thus far.

“Well, let’s give them a show,” Sigrid said, hefting her spear. “You go in from the left, I’ll come in from on top of the rock.”

“Wait, why am I the bait?” Eva asked. Sigrid didn’t even bother turning around to answer.

“Because I’m better with a spear!”

Eva’s entire body felt like it was made of cloth, flapping and flailing in the wind but she took a handful of strides toward the cat. Stepping out of the cover of the rocks, she realized it was no longer on the opposite side of the arena. She spun around but saw no sign of the sabercat. Her blood ran cold. They were being hunted.

Sigrid, a stone’s throw away, looked across at her, wondering the same thing by the look on her face. Eva took a cautious step forward, turning as she did to watch all around her. She took another step forward, hoping to climb the cluster of rock in the middle of the arena and get a better vantage —

A tawny shape flashed out of the corner of her eye and Eva threw herself to the side just as the sabercat pounced. She felt a rush of air and the reeking smell of captive animal as the creature soared past her, its front paws smashing into the sand where she’d been standing a second before. Eva made it to her feet just as the cat turned. She held her spear out in front of her, the tip wavering in her shaking hands. Eyes locked on the beast, she took a cautious step back.

The sabercat’s yellow eyes looked much like Fury’s and Eva understood for the first time the terror an angry gryphon instilled in its opponent. The cat snarled, matching every pace Eva took backward with one toward her. Its sword-like fangs glinted in the bright sun as its muzzle pulled back in a snarl. Eva shouted and jabbed her spear at the cat’s face, hoping to keep its focus while Sigrid attempted to circle behind them.

When the spear lashed out at its face, the sabercat let out a high-pitched yowl and swatted at the head, nearly tearing it from Eva’s grasp. No matter what she did, it continued to advance, one paw then another, undeterred by her shouting and stabbing. Eva saw the cat’s muscles tense, preparing to pounce. She buried the butt of her spear in the sand and braced it as best she could, a twig trying to turn back a tempest.

Everything happened at once.

Sigrid’s spear flashed through the air, burying itself in the sabercat’s shoulder as it pounced. The beast rose above Eva, claws, and fangs bared. Gritting her teeth, Eva crouched, bracing her spear the best she could as the cat fell upon her.

Chapter Fifteen

Pure panic seized Eva. The sabercat’s enormous bulk writhed on top of her. Matted, rank hair pressed against her — an overpowering, gagging stench of urine and rotten meat. She felt hot blood running through her clothes but didn’t know if it was the beast’s or hers, didn’t know if she’d been sliced to ribbons by the cat’s claws or if it’d been impaled on her spear.

Over the sabercat’s screams of pain and the thunderous excitement of the crowd, Eva thought she heard Sigrid shouting. The cat twisted again trying to regain its footing and Eva felt a searing pain in her leg. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move — didn’t want to die this way. Panic gripped her and Eva thrashed with all her might. If nothing else, she needed to fight free of that awful smell.

What took mere moments seemed like hours. Eva rolled free at last, sand flying. She scrambled away, and almost collapsed on her left leg. Looking down, she saw blood running from a ragged cut made by the cat’s hind claws. Fighting the throbbing pain, she turned around and drew her sword, waiting to be shredded to pieces.

Instead, the cat focused on Sigrid, limping toward her with the broken shaft of Eva’s spear buried in its chest. Somehow, Sigrid retrieved her spear from the cat’s shoulder while Eva was trapped beneath it. The iron head splattered blood across the sand as the dark-haired girl waved it in front of her to ward off the enraged, wounded beast.

Eva rushed forward, limping as fast as she could on her injured leg while the sabercat focused on Sigrid. Screaming, she lunged forward and scored a deep gash down the cat’s side with her short sword. The sabercat screamed and turned on her. At the same time, Sigrid drove her spear into its neck. The beast let out another gurgling scream and shook its head, bulling Eva aside as it fought to free the spear lodged in its neck.

Eva scrambled backward on her arms and good leg. Blood splattered the pale sand as the sabercat jerked back and forth. At last, it sank to the ground. Eva let out a long breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. The roar of the crowd rolled over them like thunder. Sigrid stepped forward, yanked her spear from the sabercat’s neck and drove it down the beast’s throat.

Eva lifted herself onto a rock, sweating, bleeding, and heaving for air. Sigrid joined her eyes wide from the rush of near death.

“Something tells me…”Eva said in between gulps of air. “That we aren’t finished.”

As if on cue another rusted gate shuddered and screeched from the tunnel directly across from them.

“Damn it, Eva. Why do you have to say things like that?”

Sigrid looped Eva on her shoulder and the two set off as fast as they could away from the rising gate, the only weapons they had were Eva’s short sword plus Sigrid’s spear and her array of knives. With each fumbling step, Eva glanced back over her shoulder, looking for whatever new terror would surely emerge from the cavern.

“Come on,” Sigrid urged, half dragging Eva toward the cavern where the gryphons were still held. “Got to…get to the gryphons!”

As she spoke, a high-pitched whine cut through the noise of the crowd. Eva glanced behind them and her breath caught in her throat.

Their next opponent looked like something out of a nightmare, a monster insect on six spindly, jointed legs ending in barbed points. It’s pale purple body was narrow and oblong, ending in a point at both ends. A long neck ended in a triangular head with a dozen red eyes bulging out like frog spawn on a pond.

Eva thought the sabercat had been fast until the new monster rushed toward the dying animal, sand kicking up behind it, legs moving so fast they blurred. Reaching its prize, the bug reared up on its back four legs and impaled the sabercat with its front two pincers. The points sank clear through the cat and it died without so much as a twitch.

“Mother of tempests,” Sigrid swore as the bug’s barbed pincers ripped the sabercat’s corpse in half.

They reached the cave just as the giant insect finished shredding the sabercat. Eva saw its collection of bulging eyes spot them just as they passed out of the sunlight. Sensing live prey, the bug threw back its head and emitted another high-pitched scream. And then it charged.

“Get the gryphons free!” Sigrid shouted, unslinging Eva from her shoulder. The dark-haired girl twirled the gore-spattered shaft between her hands, focused on the monstrous insect scurrying toward them faster than a horse at a gallop.

Gritting her teeth against the throbbing pain in her leg, Eva half ran, half limped toward the gryphon cage. Passing the small tunnel she heard guards shouting at her but with the bug so close, none dared step from behind the safety of their locked gate to stop her. Reaching the iron bars, Eva took her sword in both hands and swung as hard as she could at the chain holding the gate shut.

Eva’s sword reverberated in her hands and the three gryphons rammed their heads into the gate, to no avail. Eva glanced back and saw the bug reach the mouth of the tunnel. Although it couldn’t cram itself into the shorter, wider tunnel, the monster still swiped at Sigrid with its forelegs, the girl dancing out of reach and jabbing at the barbed points with her spear.

Summoning all of her strength, Eva swung at the chain again and again. Sparks flying, hands tingling, the chain held firm.

“Eva, it’s coming in!” Sigrid screamed, the terror thick in her voice.

In a frenzy of anger and fear, Eva struck the chain again and again. Fury charged and the metal gate lurched forward, pushing the chain taut. Eva screamed and swung again.

That was all it took. Against the might of three grown gryphons, the chain burst apart, striking the cavern wall with a ping. Fury, Sven, and Belarus surged forward, nearly knocking Eva over as they charged the insect, which had forced itself halfway into the tunnel by lowering its back legs and driving them into the sand.

The shriek of the creature mixed with the blood-curdling screams of the gryphons as they attacked. Eva watched, heart in her throat as Fury bulled his way past the bug’s pincers and reared up on his lion legs, slashing with his talons. Sven and Belarus latched on to one of the pincers and savaged it with their beaks until the barbed point hung by a stretch of green hide.

The insect screamed in pain and outrage. Eva fell to the ground, clutching her ears. The monster retreated and the gryphons gave chase.

“No!” Eva shouted. As soon as the gryphons made their way into the open arena, Anarchos would order them filled with arrows.

But it was too late. The gryphon burst out of the cavern into the sunlight, rising into the air while Sigrid and Eva gave chase on foot.

At the sight of the gryphons, the crowd roared even louder. Fury, Sven, and Belarus flew low, diving at the insect as it spun around to track them. Fury made his stoop and slammed into the narrow body of the bug with his outstretched talons. Before it could recover, Sven struck as well but a flailing limb knocked him aside. Before Belarus could attack the insect’s soft, exposed underbelly, it managed to right itself and lashed out at the black gryphon with its uninjured pincer. Sven crashed into the arena floor in a wave of white sand.

Sigrid took three long bounds and hurled her spear in a perfect arc. The throw was true, but the spear glanced off the bug’s carapace and skittered away. The insect whipped around, spotting easier prey than the trio of gryphons harrying it. Shaking off Sven as it made another pass, the insect scuttled toward them, no slower for its wound. Knowing she could never run away in time and with no other options, Eva raised her sword in both hands, hoping to strike at the insect’s soft belly.

Sigrid drew a knife from her belt and threw. The strike hit home — her knife buried itself to the hilt in one of the bug’s bulbous red eyes. If anything, it only made the monster madder. A flick of its leg sent Sigrid flying before it bore down on Eva.

Eva braced for the attack just as a flash of red feathers struck the insect. Fury latched onto its back and sunk his talons into the base of its neck. The bug spun on its spindly legs, and Fury went flying as well until he crashed into the cluster of rocks in the center of the arena.

Belarus struck next diving straight at the bug’s head. Almost faster than Eva could follow, the monster rose up on its hind legs and met Belarus mid-strike. The black gryphon had no time to dodge.

The bug skewered Belarus on its remaining pincer and drove him into the sand.

“NO!”

Eva screamed and stumbled forward. The insect pulled its barbed leg from Belarus, who flapped and jerked his wings in sickening death throes. Eva drew back her sword, to hurl it at the thing’s head in a last desperate gamble. And then Sven struck.

A crack like a whip split the air and the insect’s head and neck jerked to the side at an impossible angle as Sven bore it to the ground. It made no move as the grey gryphon tore its neck open with his talons and beak.

The crowd fell silent. Sigrid limped forward, clutching her side. Eva let out a sob and knelt down next to Belarus’ still form, stroking the old gryphon’s midnight fur. In the bright sunlight, it glistened with drops of blood. Fury and Sven landed beside them and Fury let out a long, mournful keening as he nudged Belarus’ beak. A breeze kicked up, stirring the gryphon’s feathers but Eva knew Belarus would never feel the wind beneath his wings again.

She looked up to where Anarchos sat in the shade on his dais. Beside him, Ivan fought like one possessed against his chains to no avail. For a moment, the priest only stared at them, a smile apparent on his face even from the distance. Eva would have given anything for a bow — even at the distance, she knew she couldn’t miss, the hatred flowing through her strong enough to overpower her wounded leg and the grief of Belarus’ death.

At last, Anarchos stood and raised his hands. The stands remained silent. Eva glanced at the blank faces of the spectators in disgust

“What a tribute to the Ancestors!” the high priest said, clapping long and slow. “Little did we know of the might of the gryphon riders from the west!”

He raised his hands again and the stadium erupted into a tumult of applause and heathen screams.

“I get the feeling he expected a different outcome,” Sigrid said, leaning over so Eva could hear her above the din.

As if he’d heard her, the priest smiled again and lowered his hands. “We are indeed blessed by the Ancestors this day. But there is one last test! Let them face the might of Draecanae!”

The crowd cheered themselves into a frenzy at their priest’s words.

“Hey, you son of a whore!” Sigrid shouted. “We’re done! We won! Let us go!”

But Anarchos had already returned to his seat, fanning himself with a large leaf from the spear-shaped trees, Ivan continued to strain against his bindings until the guards cuffed him and tied a gag into his mouth.

“You know what the tempest a Draca-whatever is?” Sigrid asked as they swiveled around, waiting to see which gate would birth the latest nightmare. The chaotic crowd dropped into a steady cadence, chanting the word over and over.

“DRAE-CAN-AE! DRAE-CAN-AE!”

“I don’t think I want to,” Eva replied.

“We could try to fly out?” Sigrid suggested, nodding toward Fury and Sven.

Eva’s despair deepened. If Sigrid was ready to run, things were dire indeed. “They’d fill us full of arrows before we could go anywhere. And we can’t leave Ivan.”

“Ivan seems to be a damn sight better off than we are,” Sigrid muttered, glancing back up at the shaded pavilion. She sighed. “Let’s give it to them, one last time, I guess.”

Eva gritted her teeth, trying to ignore her throbbing leg. At long last, a gate to their right rose. The familiar, dreaded sound of metal screaming against rock set Eva’s remaining, frazzled nerves on edge. The crowd fell silent again, every last person staring into the dark abyss beyond. Time stretched by, impossibly slow.

A long white snout, fanged and scaled, appeared out of the shadow. It reminded Eva of the paintings she’d seen of the crocodiles from the far north of Maizoro

Thick, bowlegged limbs as big around as trees thumped out into the sand, following a long, winding torso.

“Can’t be,” Sigrid said. “There’s no such thing as —”

Eva finished her sentence, although it was the last thing she wanted to admit.

“Dragons.”

Chapter Sixteen

The pale reptile slithered the rest of the way out of the tunnel, surprisingly smooth and agile on its short limbs. It had no wings, but its body and tail more than compensated. It raised its snout in the air, sniffing, tail waving back and forth as if it had a mind of its own.

“That thing can’t really breathe fire, right?” Sigrid said. “I mean that’s…those are just stories. Aren’t they?”

The Draecanae jerked its head toward them upon hearing her voice and stared. Its eyes were red pupils, narrowing as it tried to discern who and what these new intruders in its territory were and if they could be eaten. Eva took a step backward.

“I think we should —”

“Get on the gryphons, I agree,” Sigrid said. In a flash, she swung onto Sven.

Eva did likewise, as fast as she could on her bad leg. With much less grace than Sigrid, she latched onto Fury’s saddle and pulled herself up into place. The gryphon pawed at the ground with his talons and spread his wings, waiting for her command to take to the air.

Even now, the previously manic crowd remained silent. Eva wasn’t sure if they revered the beast, or feared any noise would incite the drake to climb out of the pit and attack the audience. In the emptiness, Eva heard as much as felt her heart pounding in her chest.

“The Draecanae is the mightiest of hunters in the deserts of the deep north,” Anarchos’ voice carried down to them from where he stood at the edge of his balcony. “It is written in the long ago that the Ancestors carved runes upon the Draecanae, imbuing them with the ability to breathe fire, ice or water. Alas, that lore has long since been forgotten. But the great lizards are still formidable foes nonetheless, with scales like armor, and claws like scimitars. Should you survive your encounter, we will indeed know the Ancestors smile upon you and you will be freed. Try to escape on your beasts, and you will be shot to death.”

“Listen, snake!” Sigrid shouted up. “We don’t have to —”

Alerted by the sound of her shouts, the Draecanae let out a grating roar and coursed toward them. The gryphons shot into the air just in time to miss the beast’s snapping jaws as it stretched out for Fury’s legs. Hovering just above the height of the wall, Sigrid and Eva drew their gryphons close together.

“Got any ideas?” Eva asked. She glanced down at the drake, who spun around below them, frustrated by his elusive prey above.

“Other than killing it?” Sigrid asked. “Not a storming one.”

“Ladies!” Anarchos cupped his hands together and shouted to draw their attention. Eva saw several guards draw arrows from their quivers. “The trial of the Ancestors will not be sullied by your cheating! I am afraid if you do not return to the ground, I will have to take drastic measures.”

Down below the Draecanae roared again and lashed its tail out at one of the columns. The cracked stone burst apart in a cascading pile of rubble and dust.

“We could rush him?” Sigrid suggested.

Eva shook her head. “Too many archers, we’d never make it out alive.”

“What do you think’s gonna happen if we go down there?” Sigrid yelled. “Would you rather cooperate like nice little sacrificial lambs and get eaten by a storming dragon?”

“Hey! I don’t —” Eva stopped, her attention stolen by a robed figured crawling across the top the wooden pavilion above Anarchos.

“Chel!” Eva said before she could think. Sigrid must have seen her too.

“Well, I’ll be…”

“Time is up, my brave friends!” The high priest shouted, oblivious to the approaching danger overhead. He leaned over the balcony. “Will you face the Draecanae or be shot down like cowards?”

Eva glanced at Chel, who edged toward the end of the pavilion and gathered her feet beneath her like a cat getting ready to pounce

“We’ll go!” Eva shouted, hoping to buy some time and keep the priest distracted. “Don’t shoot, we’ll give you a fight!”

Anarchos smiled like a toddler given his own way. “Good! I would have been disappointed if —”

Chel leaped from the roof and struck the priest between the shoulder blade with both of her feet. Anarchos screamed and pinwheeled his arms, but before any of his guards could grab him, he toppled over the balcony and landed with a thud on the arena sand.

Fury and Sven shot toward the pavilion as chaos erupted. Guards ran back and forth like a flock of scattered birds, unsure how many attackers were on the pavilion. Ivan lashed out with his chained hands at anyone who came within reach while Chel danced away from curved swords and spears. Down below, Anarchos shrieked for help.

Horrified, Eva spotted a couple of the soldiers with enough sense to draw their bows just as they reached the balcony. Both women leaped from the sides of their gryphons. Sigrid landed in a crouch but as soon as Eva’s wounded leg made contact with the stone, it buckled and she fell flat on her face. As Eva struggled to her feet, Sigrid charged the guards. Upright, they fought toward Chel and Ivan on the other side of the terrace.

Without room to land, the gryphons circled above, dodging arrows before diving in to knock the guards into the pit. Eva did her best to stick to Sigrid but her wounded leg forced her focus completely on defending herself.

All of a sudden, Ivan’s voice rose over the din of the fight and a gust of wind blasted past Sigrid and Eva, knocking three more men into the arena. Relief flooded through Eva at the sight of the Scrawl’s glowing runes as he began another kenning. By now the remaining guards pushed their way through the crowd to get away from the gryphons and Ivan.

“I told you this was a bad place!” Chel said when they reached her and Ivan.

“I’m just glad to see you!” Eva said, laughing.

Like a raging fire, the mayhem of the pavilion spread into the crowd. Stoked by the fleeing guards, the people fought to get out of the arena. Eva saw guards overpowered and tossed into the pit, while some threw down their weapons, tore off their scarlet cloaks and joined in.

Screams below drew their attention. Anarchos clung to the side of the wall, supporting an obviously broken leg as he urged the scattered guards in the arena to gather in front of him. The Draecanae wound forward, taking its time to study the scattered collection of armed men and women before it. It bobbed its head up and down as if trying to decide which it would prefer to annihilate first.

“Kill it!” Anarchos screamed, hopping on his good leg. “Kill it, you fools!”

An overly ambitious guard, perhaps hoping to garner favor with the governor, lunged forward and jabbed his spear at the drake’s face. The Draecanae gave an angry snort and, almost faster than Eva could follow, spun around and batted the man aside with its tail. Eva winced as his screams died in a crunch against the arena wall.

The rest of the guards hesitated until the high priest yelled again. This time, they fanned out as a group, forming a semi-circle in front of the giant lizard.

The dragon bulled forward and brushed three guards aside like they were flies. Another charged it straight on. The Draecanae flipped the man straight up in the air with its snout, catching him between its jaws on the way down. Sensing an opportunity, a woman jumped forward and struck the Dracanae’s scaled neck with her sword. The blade rebounded against the scales and the dragon sent the woman flying with a jerk of its bony head.

Seeing their comrades mowed down, the last two guards ran, ignoring the high priest’s screams. Not fast enough to avoid the Draecanae. The drake caught one with its tail and smashed the other against the sand with a massive front foot.

Alone, Anarchos looked small and pitiful pressed against the arena wall. He looked up and spotted them.

“Have mercy! I would not have killed you — it was only a spectacle. Please, throw me a rope!”

The Draecanae’s massive fangs crunched through an injured guard trying to crawl away then turned its attention toward the priest. It snorted and lumbered forward, attention focused on Anarchos.

“I will give you anything!” The priest screamed. “Gold, jewels, slaves — the city itself! Please, help me!”

“You will give Eva-lyn back her stone,” Chel shouted down to Anarchos. “Now!”

“And then you will throw me a rope?”

“We’ll consider it,” Sigrid said. “But you’d better hurry!”

Sobbing, the priest reached around his neck and removed Eva’s necklace with fumbling hands. He threw it up in the air and Sigrid leaned over to snag it. She handed it to Eva who felt immediate relief when she placed it around her neck.

“Now throw me the rope!” Anarchos shrieked. “Throw the rope!”

“The Draecanae is beloved of the Ancestors,” Chel said, repeating the priest’s speech back to him. “If they truly favor you, then you will be spared.”

An ugly, twisted look of terror spasmed across the man’s face. “Please, inscribed!” he pleaded with Ivan. “You are all powerful. Please, spare me and I will serve you!”

Ivan looked from the priest to the still form of Belarus lying across the arena. Tears glistened in his eyes and he shook his head.

The Draecanae took another step forward, head bobbing and weaving. By now, the pale monster was only feet away from Anarchos. The priest froze, bare chest heaving.

Like the sabercat, Eva saw numerous scars crossing the drake’s body and wondered what sort of torture could inflict such marks on the Draecanae’s armored hide. She saw now how old it was — spots of discoloration freckled its eyes above worn and yellowed teeth. Who knew how many years of its life had been in the cruel captivity within the Mother of Cities.

“Back!” Anarchos managed to stutter out as he cowered on the ground before the dragon. “I, the governor and priest of the Mother of Cities, beloved by the —”

The Draecanae opened his maw and Anarchos’ screams cut through the surrounding chaos. Eva looked away, but the shrieks ended almost as soon as they’d began.

Glancing beyond the arena, Eva saw plumes of smoke rising throughout the city. The crowd attacked the guards without mercy and turned on one another. Eva felt sick just watching the madness set in.

“We must leave,” Chel said, looking as if the gruesome death hadn’t affected her at all. “These people have lost their minds.”

Sigrid nodded. “The Mother of Cities has turned into a mad bitch.”

“What about… Belarus?” Ivan asked.

Eva glanced at Sigrid, throat tight. When a gryphon died, they were always put to flame. Eva didn’t know how they’d get Belarus’ body out of the arena without the Draecanae attacking them, or where they could safely find fuel to build a funeral pyre large enough to consume an adult gryphon. But the thought of leaving the body for the drake to feed on seemed even worse.

“We will honor him when we return to the Gyr,” Sigrid said. Eva felt a wave of relief at someone else making the call but it was followed immediately by guilt.

Ivan nodded, shoulders shaking. Without a word between them, Eva, Sigrid, and Chel gathered together and wrapped their arms around him.

After a long moment, Eva stepped back and wiped the tears from her eyes. Smoke choked the sky above them and the sounds of rioting came from all around. Eva shuddered.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Seventeen

They flew until nightfall, Chel behind Eva on Fury, Ivan with Sigrid on Sven. No one spoke, each wrapped in their own thoughts as the Mother of Cities faded into the landscape behind them and the lush oasis gave way to broken, empty land. They went almost straight south, ready to be out of the hill country even though the Endless Plains offered little to look forward to.

Just before sunset, Eva worked up the energy to ask Chel how she’d escaped capture.

“I was walking in the gardens. I could tell someone followed me, so I hid and waited. When the two men showed themselves, I watched as they looked for me. They said something about you and See-grid and Ivan. I knew I could not get back to you in time, so I climbed the wall and hid in the city. It did not take long to hear what was happening the next day.”

“Thank you,” Eva said. “We owe you our lives.”

Chel gave a short nod and then opened her mouth as if to say something else before closing it again.

"What is it?” Eva asked, twisting in the saddle to get a better look at the girl.

“I…” Chel began. “I am eager to return to my people and find your father, that is all.”

Eva nodded, feeling the same anxious pull. She’d wasted too many days in Anarchos’ snare. Even worse, Belarus was dead because of her. She looked at Ivan riding behind Sigrid. The Scrawl stared off into the distance with a blank expression on his face. The consequences of her choices hung over them all.

Four days passed before the group began to shed the dark mantle. With nothing but the weapons on their back and a few hasty supplies gathered as they fled from the city, they were forced to stop often to hunt and search for water. As they continued south, however, the land became more plentiful with game, even as it grew colder. The nights had a chill to them that bespoke the coming winter. Each night found them huddled around a meager fire, close together to stay warm.

They saw no sign of other people for almost a week after leaving the Mother of Cities, which Eva was grateful for. Upon reaching the northern fringe of the Endless, they turned eastward. Chel guessed they were less than two week’s travel from the Juarag-Vo’s territory, although they’d seen no sign of human life since leaving the Mother of Cities.

“My people move much,” Chel explained. “We have no lands to claim and must move whenever another tribe comes into hunting grounds.”

“Why don’t you fight for your land?” Sigrid asked. Eva could tell the thought of backing down without a fight bewildered her.

“The Juarag tribes are much larger than us and even the smallest have many war cats,” Chel said. “We do what we must to protect our people, even if it means running.”

Instead of throwing back a snide remark, as she would have done before their capture in the Mother of Cities, Sigrid merely nodded. Despite their trials and losses, Eva sensed a camaraderie growing between them all and the Juarag-Vo girl, a bond forged from their trials and triumphs.

One morning, Sigrid spotted a sliver of smoke. For a moment Eva thought it might be the Juarag-Vo but her hopes were quickly dashed when she looked at Chel and the girl shook her head.

“Not close enough yet. And that is no Juarag fire.”

Drawing closer, the trail of smoke led them to a ring of a dozen small wagons with little cabins built upon them. Eva feared they’d come across another group of steppe nomads, but soon spotted groups of children running throughout the camp. If nothing else, they didn’t appear to be a war band.

“Do you know these people?” Eva asked Chel.

“I know their kind,” Chel said. “Wanderers and traders. They are friendly enough… if you have something to give in return.”

“What’s the plan?” Sigrid shouted across to them. By now, they’d been spotted by the people below, who were calling out warnings and gathering their children.

After their experience in the Mother of Cities, Eva felt loathe to trust another group of strangers, but days of nothing but meat and scant rations won out against her paranoia. She passed the word to Sigrid and they landed the gryphons beyond bowshot of the camp. While Eva, Ivan, and Chel approached the camp, Sigrid remained with Sven and Fury, ready to come to their aid at a moment’s notice.

Several men and women rode out to meet them, armed but weapons sheathed. They didn’t look overly friendly but seemed more curious than hostile.

Eva held up her hands when they drew closer, showing they meant no harm. A woman with thick dark brown hair pulled back in a scarf studied them with hard eyes then barked out a command. Eva’s hopes fell — she had no idea what the language was. But when she looked at Ivan he was smiling.

The Scrawl replied back at the same fast clip and the woman smiled in turn, then grasped his arm in greeting. They passed a few more sentences back and forth before Ivan turned to Eva and Chel.

“This is Belka,” he said, gesturing to the women. “I asked if we could trade with her people and perhaps share a meal by their fire. They are fleeing westward, away from the Smelterborn.”

“That’s great,” Eva said, “but we don’t have anything to trade.”

“I told her we could provide fresh game if they’d be willing to cook it for us and share whatever they have,” he said. “They haven’t been able to hunt — the animals are fleeing east too.”

“Should we trust them?” Eva asked both Ivan and Chel.

“Our interactions with their kind in the past have been peaceful,” Chel said.

Ivan nodded and his stomach rumbled, giving away his feelings on the matter.

“Sounds good,” Eva said. “Let’s see if we can rustle up some dinner then.”

Sitting around a fire, full, warm and content, Eva smiled as the band started to pluck at their strange stringed instruments and rattle small tambourines. Although their clothing was plain and drab, they had small bronze bells attached to their carts and the tack of their horses and ponies. As a result, a soft jingling permeated the camp even when the other music faded away.

They remained on the edge of camp, partly because Belka wasn’t comfortable with the gryphons and partly because Eva wanted to be able to make a quick getaway on the off chance something went wrong. Even now, she was careful not to let down her guard too much and kept her weapons within reach.

“For generations, we have made a life for ourselves wandering the east, scavenging what we could find from the ruins to trade,” Ivan translated as Belka spoke. “Not so long ago, the sight of a golem was rare. But every year, more and more appeared. There came a time when the ruins of the ancients were no longer safe to the east, so we went north. Now, we must go west, or be killed.”

The night grew late, but instead of retiring to their bedrolls, the traders built the fires higher and played even wilder tunes. Eva found herself laughing and tapping along to the music, and realized she was more relaxed and happy than she'd been throughout their time as pampered guests in the Mother of Cities. Although the scavenger’s camp didn’t come close to matching the grandeur of the temple, there was something to be said about the honest enjoyment of hard-working folk such as these that made Eva feel more at home than she had since leaving on the journey.

At last, the music subsided and the fire burned low. After one last story and song, a haunting melody that drew images of strange nights in far-off country beneath forgotten ruins, they retired.

In the morning, Belka found them at dawn, offering two sacks full of wild fruits, berries, and vegetables. Eva tried to refuse them, but the woman shook her head and insisted.

“She says to take them, for they have been hungry for meat and she knows we have grown tired of it,” Ivan said. Eva saw it was pointless to argue and relented, although they left the rest of the gryphon kill for the traders.

As they prepared for flight, the camp gathered around, staring wide-eyed as the gryphons stretched their wings and showed off in front of the admiring crowd. Eva thanked Belka one last time but the woman started speaking again.

“She says we are welcome to travel with them,” Ivan said. “And admits our gryphons and weapons would be welcome company — she knows about the Juarag and the horse people and is not looking forward to the journey.”

A desire to aid the kindly wanderers tugged at Eva but she knew she couldn’t abandon their journey eastward, no matter what might lie ahead. A thought struck her and she unpinned the brooch on her cloak that had miraculously survived the journey so far. It was fashioned as a pair of wings, a mark of her station as Windsworn she’d earned upon completing her training. The only possessions Eva prized more were her mother’s Wonder and the sword Soot had crafted for her on her first birthday at the Gyr.

Eva curled her fingers around the pin, recalling the blood, pain, and heartache gone into winning it as well as the pride she’d felt when Andor placed it on her. Pushing her feelings away, she held it out to Belka. “Ivan, tell her to journey toward Rhylance and show the first riders she comes across my brooch. Tell them Eva, the niece of the king, has granted her safe passage.”

As Ivan repeated the words, Sigrid looked at Eva, eyes wide. “Since when did you start making royal mandates?”

Eva shrugged. “Can’t get me in any more trouble than I’m already in, can it?”

When Ivan finished, Belka clutched the winged pin to her chest and bowed her head in thanks. With that, Eva and the rest raised their hands and the gryphons took off at a short run before taking off into the sky. Her heart went out for the roving band and she wished they could have done more to see them to safety.

“They remind me much of my own people,” Chel said sometime later as they flew southeast, back into the tip of the Endless Plains.

Eva could sense the longing in her voice and realized how much she must miss her tribe.

“How far away do you think we are?” Eva asked.

Eva felt Chel tense behind her and it took a long moment for the girl to reply. “I…I’m not sure,” she said in a reluctant voice like she didn’t want to be held accountable for whatever answer she gave. “The Juarag-Vo wander much but we are probably only a few days or so from where I left them. I did not come this far north, so it is hard to say.”

For the first time, Eva realized that their task might be harder than simply flying to a spot and finding her father. Looking down at the vast expanse of grassland, the similarity of searching for a needle in a haystack rose to mind.

“How long do you think it will take to find them?” she asked Chel, hoping for some kind of reassurance.

Chel neither moved nor spoke for a long moment. “I do not know.”

They came into the thick of the Endless Plains: rolling hills of blond grass that reached the chests of the gryphons at its thinnest and beyond their eagle-like heads at the tallest points where it hadn’t been grazed. Small brown clumps nosed through the grass below as they flew — herds of deer, elk, buffalo, and shaggy rhinos. The latter, Chel said, they should avoid at all costs.

But while they saw numerous signs of life, death held sway the farther east the went. From the air, they spotted animals slaughtered and left to rot in the early winter sun. Swarms of flies as thick as clouds buzzed around the carcasses, fighting for their last few meals before the cold killed them off. In addition to the flies, packs of scavengers: vultures, wolves, coyotes and short-nosed plains bears congregated on the kills, gorging themselves.

When Eva asked what killed the herd animals, Chel answered in a single word: Smelterborn.

Yet they still found no sign of the Juarag-Vo, no sign of the Smelterborn, and most importantly, no sign of Eva’s father. With each passing day, Eva and Sigrid grew more restless and frustrated, constantly asking Chel where her tribe was.

“I do not know!” Chel hissed one night, throwing her hands in the air. “I have been gone over three seasons now! I am doing all I can to find them.”

“Maybe this was all a wild goose chase after all,” Sigrid muttered, sliding a hand over one of her knife hilts. “Some trick to lead us all the way out there.”

Eva couldn’t bring herself to defend Chel. Ivan, however, was quick to jump in. “Chel saved our lives, remember? We’ve all seen how big the plains are — I’m sure she wants to find her people even more than we do.”

“Well that’s just great,” Sigrid said kicking the dirt. “Let’s just wander around the Endless until we starve or freeze to death.”

Eva looked between the two girls, torn by her own feelings. “Let’s just get some rest,” she said, hoping some rest would dissolve the tension. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

But morning dawned and yielded no inspiration from anyone. Even Fury and Sven snapped and hissed at one another, tired from long days of flight in the bitter weather. After a frustrating discussion that dissolved in further bickering, they agreed, at last, to push a bit farther to the east.

Chel didn’t think it likely the Juarag-Vo would have traveled in that direction. She told them the Smelterborn had been known to capture slaves on occasion, although she had no idea where they went or what they were used for. As she spoke, Eva knew Chel hoped against all odds that her people hadn’t met a similar fate.

Around midday, they caught their first break — a pillar of smoke rising far off on the horizon. Without a word, Sigrid and Eva urged their gryphons into a faster flight. Chel remained silent, but Eva knew what she was thinking. The smoke didn’t bode well — no human would make a blaze that size in the dry grasses of the Endless.

The cold air whipped past them, biting through their clothes and bringing stinging tears down Eva’s cheeks but she didn’t slow down. An hour later, Chel let out a cry when the source of the smoke came into view.

It was the remains of a village. The smoke rose from the remains of poles of skin tents broken and smoldering. A dozen bodies and a random assortment of belongings were scattered throughout the camp. Eva winced at the sight of the victims — mostly old and young — hacked apart with no regard. Although a handful of vultures seemed to be the only things left alive, Eva still touched down a short distance from the ruined camp.

“Chel, wait!”

The Juarag-Vo girl leaped from Fury’s back before he’d even reached the ground and didn’t so much as pause at Eva’s shout. Eva cursed and raced after Chel while Fury rose back in the sky like he’d been trained to do to watch for anyone approaching.

When she reached the first body, the wrinkled corpse of an old man, Chel let out a terrible sound somewhere between a moan and a scream and sank down beside it, pounding the ground with both fists. Eva drew her sword and, fighting back the urge to spew her meager breakfast, stepped into the midst of the massacre and chased away the carrion birds. On the edge of the camp, a lone coyote snarled at her before turning tail and racing away. Footsteps signaled Ivan and Sigrid’s approach.

“Son of the storm,” Sigrid said in a low voice, surveying the death and destruction.

Chel let up another wail and Ivan went to comfort her. “Let’s…look for anyone alive,” Eva said to Sigrid. She knew their search would be in vain before the words ever came out.

Breathing through her mouth, Eva stepped around dead Juarag-Vo and pieces of dead Juarag-Vo, searching for any sign of life. There was none.

Peeking inside a half-fallen skin tent, Eva jerked backward at the awful sight within and, unable to hold it in any longer, bent over and lost the contents of her stomach on the scorched ground. Shaking, she wiped a clammy hand across her mouth and decided she’d seen enough. She started walking back to Chel when Sigrid gave a shout.

“Over here, quick!”

Eva raced toward Sigrid’s voice, but Chel was even faster, hurtling like a deer through the smoking ruin. Ivan and Eva arrived at the same time and found Sigrid bent over a boy, only a few years younger than Ivan. Sigrid held his head but the boy stared past her toward the sky with unfocused eyes.

“Tetsa,” Chel whimpered, kneeling down and running a hand over his right arm — the left ended at the elbow, although Eva couldn’t guess if he’d been born that way or lost it some time ago.

The boy coughed and Sigrid adjusted his head so he could see Chel. His eyes grew widened and he sucked in a sharp breath then began to cough. Ivan knelt down and muttered a kenning. Water rose out of the ground into the Scrawl’s palms and he did his best to trickle some into the boy’s mouth.

The boy swallowed then took another ragged breath and shuddered. For a moment, Eva thought he was dead, but his eyes opened again.

“Smelterborn…” he said in a faint voice. Eva was surprised to hear him speak Westernese. “Came two days ago at dawn. Killed…no slaves. No warning.”

“Where is my father?” Eva asked, unable to contain her worry any longer. She’d seen no sign of a Rhylance man or a gryphon among the dead. “Where is Aleron?”

The boy looked at Chel. “Chel-sister, did you…find him? …you were going to…you said…”

Eva felt her blood run cold as the skinny boy gave a final shuddering cough and went still. As Sigrid lowered the boys’ head back to the ground, all three of them looked at Chel, who had tears pouring down her face.

“What does he mean, you were going to find him?” Eva asked, chest tight, almost unable to breathe or speak.

“I…” Chel trailed off and stared at the ground.

“You what?” Sigrid asked through clenched teeth.

Chel rose on shaky legs and took two faltering steps back. Sigrid leaped to her feet but Eva managed to get herself between them. “Sigrid, stop!” she shouted before turning to Chel. “What did he mean you were going to find him?”

Tears ran down Chel’s face and her chest heaved. She gasped for air and coughed in the thick smoke.

“I…we were all alone,” she managed at last. Her words spilled out fast and almost indecipherable. “He told me, if he didn’t come back, to go get help — I swear it! I knew it was the only way any of the sky people would come. I never meant to —”

“Who told you?” Eva said. Her stomach twisted again, but not from the gruesome slaughter around her.

“Aleron,” Chel said. “He told me before he left if he didn’t come back that I had to get word to your people.”

Eva squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment. Her heart hammered against her chest. The world started spinning and her mouth went dry. She didn’t want to ask but knew she had to.

“Chel, how long ago did he leave?”

The Juarag-Vo girl looked at her and Eva saw no malice or guile, just endless heartbreak, and pain.

“Aleron disappeared over a year before I left to find you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Eva stared. She looked right through Chel, empty. Not knowing what to say, what to think, what to do. She felt like an empty pot, drained of everything but cold dregs. Behind her, Ivan muttered something and Sigrid seethed.

“You tricked us, you lying bitch!”

Sigrid strode past Eva and brandished a knife at Chel. Eva did nothing. Chel stumbled backward and fell on the ground then scuttled away from Sigrid on her hands and feet.

“I told you as much of the truth as I could!” she said. “Aleron told me to find the sky people if he didn't come back, I couldn’t wait any longer. I knew if I told you we hadn’t seen him in a year you wouldn’t listen!”

“You’re damn right!” Sigrid yelled. “You led us halfway across Altaris, nearly got us all killed and for what? Nothing!”

Screaming, Sigrid hurled her knife and it sank into the blackened dirt between Chel’s feet. Eva didn’t know if Sigrid has missed on purpose or if her anger had affected the throw.

“What else is there?” Ivan asked. Even he didn’t sound like he had any sympathy for Chel. “Tell us.”

“I have told you everything!” Chel shouted back, her voice recovering some of its old steel. “Aleron left us, almost a year and a half ago. He said he knew what was causing the Smelterborn to attack, where they were coming from and a way to stop them. Something from his time exploring the east. He said he had to be sure before he tried returning to the Windsworn, but he had to be sure first. He told me if he didn’t come back that things were worse than he had guessed and I would have to find you.”

“Anything else?” Eva asked in a flat voice. Part of her didn’t want to know. Part of her wanted to start walking into the plains and not stop until she collapsed.

“He told me they had awakened something, something that should have remained asleep when they journeyed into the ruins,” Chel said, voice dropping. “He said if he could make it back to the island, he would know for certain.”

“Island?” Eva asked, frowning. Although no one knew much about the far east, even after the eastern expedition, she’d never seen any mention of an island on any maps on that coast of Altaris.

“That is all I know, I swear it,” Chel said. She looked between the three of them, still on her back on the ground. “Are you…are you going to kill me?” The way she said it made Eva think she didn’t mean to put up a fight, which was probably the only thing still holding Sigrid back from attacking.

Eva sucked in a deep breath and pushed it all out, feeling drained and cracked, in addition to empty. “He could be anywhere,” she said to no one in particular. “He could be dead for all we know. Anywhere between here and the eastern sea.”

Ivan knelt down beside her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Sigrid remained standing over Chel, hands balled into fists.

“Maybe we should go home,” Eva said. The idea didn’t bring much comfort — for all she knew they’d be thrown in irons as soon as the first Windsworn patrol spotted them.

“I gave up everything for this,” Sigrid said. “We’re deserters, we’ll be banished from the Windsworn. If we don’t find something, we have nothing to go back to.”

The thought of making the same long journey in reverse — with all its hazards and perils and nothing to show for it — seemed an impossible task. A mournful, whining wind blew the smell of death and smoke all around them. 

“Chel,” Eva asked after a long pause, “how do your people care for your dead?”

Chel gazed around the remnants of the camp with dull eyes. “We burn them.”

“Let’s put these people to rest,” Eva said. Ivan nodded in agreement. Sigrid, however, wrenched her knife out of the ground and stomped off without a word, waving the gryphons down as she reached the edge of the camp.

For the next couple of hours, Eva, Ivan, and Chel, did their best to gather the bodies into a pyre, which Ivan lit with a kenning. They stood side by side in silence, watching the bodies consumed by the flame. When the fire reached its peak, Chel began chanting a bone-chilling dirge for several minutes. When she finished, the lonely wind and snapping fire did little to break the heavy quiet hanging on them.

Eva tried to imagine what Chel must be going through, how she would feel if all of the Windsworn were killed and she had to watch them burn into a heap of ash and blackened bone. No matter how hard she searched to find empathy, however, all she could think of was her father. Even now, a tiny part of her, like the first bit of plant poking up through the frozen ground in spring, wanted to hope he was alive. The practical side of her said it was a fool’s errand, that she couldn’t ask any more of her friends, and that it was time to give up this folly.

Sigrid remained on the edge of camp, facing the other direction as she sharpened her knives and unsaddled and tended to Fury and Sven. When the wind shifted and blew the foul smoke into their faces Eva left Ivan and Chel and crossed the desolate camp. Sigrid and Sven remained facing the other way, the grey gryphon as surly as his owner but Fury approached Eva and cocked his head to the side as if to ask what was going on. Eva wrapped her arms around her gryphon’s powerful neck and buried her face in his blood-colored feathers. All of the emotions of the past weeks hit her at once and she sobbed.

Fury held still in a rare show of tenderness. When Eva pulled back at last and wiped her face, the gryphon chirped in concern and nudged her shoulder with his beak. Eva sniffed and looked up into his yellow eyes.

“You’ve grown.” Although with the constant travel and shortage of food, she wasn’t sure how. Fury clacked his beak and spread his wings, preening at the comment. Eva thought back to the tiny ball of red down she’d once held in her hands. It was hard to imagine that tiny hatchling was the same majestic creature before her. Although she still didn’t feel like anything special — especially given their current dire straights — there was no doubt Fury filled his part as the destined red gryphon, said to come only once every generation.

“I’m sorry I brought you all the way out here, boy,” Eva said, fighting back another wave of tears. Her mind flashed back to Belarus lying dead in the arena, his blood staining the white sand. She didn’t know how she would have kept going if that had been Fury.

Fury clacked his beak and tipped his head to the side as if to say he didn’t mind either way. Eva sighed and embraced him again. This time, the gryphon dipped his beak down over her shoulder — the best he could do to return the hug. “Thanks for having my back,” she said. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Eva looked over at Sigrid, knowing what she had to do next. When she sat down next to the dark-haired girl, Sigrid continued to stare off across the plain as if Eva wasn’t there.

“Hell of a thing,” Sigrid grunted after a long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

Eva nodded. “I’m really sorry about all of this.”

The dark-haired girl shrugged. “Not your fault. She tricked us all.”

“I…” Eva hesitated, knowing what her next words would mean. “I don’t think we were.”

Sigrid shot her a murderous look and Eva quickly continued while she had the chance. “That doesn’t make it right, or change anything, but I believe her.”

Sigrid shook her head and hurled a stick she’d been whittling off into the grass. “You’re a storming idiot, Eva.”

“I know,” Eva said. She shook her head and heaved a giant sigh. “Trust me, I know.”

She trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“So where do we start looking?” Sigrid asked after another long pause.

Eva’s mouth fell open and she would’ve fallen over if she wasn’t already sitting down. “Are you crazy?”

Sigrid looked at her, this time with the familiar rebellious fire burning in her eyes, instead of cold rage. “Eva, I came all the way out here, froze my ass off and almost died more times than I can count so you could find your sky-cursed, storming father. If there’s a chance he’s still alive and knows how to defeat the Smelterborn, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you go back to Rhylance until we find out for sure.”

Eva stared, speechless. As Sigrid’s words sank in, however, an incredulous smile stretched across Eva’s windburned face.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” she told Sigrid. A dry, desperate laugh burst out of her, unbidden.

Sigrid chuckled and nodded. “Not as crazy as you.”

“We’re probably going to die out here,” Eva said, still laughing, although she didn’t know why.

“More than likely,” Sigrid replied.

Before Eva could thank her, Ivan’s shouts sounded from across the camp. Eva twisted around and saw the Scrawl running toward them at a frantic pace.

“We’ve got company!”

Chapter Nineteen

Eva and Sigrid scrambled to their feet, signaling Fury and Sven into the air. Rushing to Ivan’s side, Eva followed his hand out past the camp to a spot between two hills illuminated by the setting sun. She saw several tall, dark shapes standing, watching.

“That what I think it is?” Sigrid said.

A chill ran down Eva’s back. Although they were far away, she knew exactly what those brooding figures were.

“Smelterborn.”

A few paces away, Chel let out a heart-wrenching scream and ran toward the golems. Eva raced after her, leaping and stretching out to snag Chel’s ankle before the girl got away. She tried to kick free but Eva pulled herself farther up Chel’s body and fought to hold down the larger, vengeful girl.

“Chel, listen!” she said in between grunts, trying to pin the Juarag-Vo girl’s arms down. “Listen to me! Killing yourself won’t bring them back!”

Chel vented a last frustrated howl and went limp. “They must pay for what they did!”

“I know,” Eva said. “Believe me, I know. But this isn’t the way to do it. Even with four of us and the gryphons, we wouldn’t stand a chance. If you want your vengeance, help me find my father. Help us find a way to stop all the Smelterborn.”

Chel stared up at her, confused. “You aren’t returning to your people?”

Eva shook her head and helped Chel to her feet. “Can I trust you?” Eva asked. Part of her wanted to punch the other girl in the nose, but she resisted the temptation.

Chel nodded. “I swear by the Spirits of the Plains that I will help you defeat these Smelterborn or I will die trying.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Eva said. Her eyes drifted toward the two hills and the Smelterborn on them. They hadn’t moved, but it looked like a couple more had joined the line.

“Hey!” Sigrid shouted. “I’m fine that we’re not going to kill her, but we need to get out of here!”

After allowing Chel a final moment to say her goodbyes to the cremated remains of her people, they mounted the gryphons and took to the sky. The Smelterborn watched, not attacking, but not retreating either. As they drew closer, high in the air, Eva counted ten altogether. She shuddered as their orange eyes looked at them hovering far overhead. Otherwise, the golems remained motionless, like giant statues rotted into the prairie ground itself. The golems’ fiery gaze brought back a slew of foul memories. Recollections of smoke, fire, and darkness consumed Eva’s mind. For a moment, she was fighting Celina in the bowels of the Gyr all over again. She’d hoped back then to never see another.

“Why don’t they attack?” she asked Chel.

“They are the scouts,” Chel said. “Not as strong as the others, but faster. If they are here, more cannot be far.”

Upon closer inspection, Eva noticed the Smelterborn below them were leaner and a bit taller than the one she’d fought, their helmets pointed, body armor narrow and arms and legs extra long. Their only weapons appeared to be a long spear each.

“We can’t fly at night,” Eva said, “We need to find somewhere safe to land.”

“I’m not going back north,” Sigrid said. She and Ivan hovered close enough on Sven to join the conversation. “No way, no how.”

“We should go back to the west,” Chel said. “Or we may find ourselves surrounded in the night. The Smelterborn have no need to stop or rest like living things.”

Eva paused, considering their options for a long moment. “We’ll go south. I don’t want to backtrack any more than we have to.”

A few hours after dark, they finally found a spot to land near a small watering hole. The half-grown moon showed no sign of any other life around them but Chel assured them the Smelterborn scouts would have marked their direction. After a cold meal, Eva and Chel took the first watch together, spreading out on opposite sides of the pond.

Eva jumped at every sound: the wind rustling through the grass, night hawks over the water and even Sigrid’s snores. She knew by the chirping of the late season crickets that there was nothing to fear but she couldn’t shake the sight of a Smelterborn looming out of the darkness, eyes glowing like hellfire. Even after Sigrid and Ivan relieved them of their watch Eva didn’t get much sleep, slipping in and out of consciousness, blurred thoughts of her father and a Smelterborn ambush melding together in her mind.

As soon as the first gray light of morning dawned, they prepared to depart. Everyone had red eyes, shadowed by dark rings. They flew eastward and the wide open plains gave way to broken hills with scraggly trees and thick brush. No birdsong rose from the gnarled cedars below, not even the racket of crows or magpies. Unlike the plains, where four-legged herbivores of one kind or another could be seen in any direction, the thin, gray grass was barren of life.

Around noon they spotted another band of Smelterborn. Like the group before, this one consisted of about a dozen golems, although there were both scouts and thicker, heavier-armored variations, like the one Eva had fought. Seeing an almost exact copy of the automaton that had almost taken her life made the threat even more real. She could feel the Smelterborn’s angry orange eyes on them long after they flew out of sight.

The landscape remained the same into the evening and they spotted another band, this one closer to twenty strong. Forced to abandon any ideas of camp before sunset, they turned and flew to the north, searching for fiery eyes in the night to determine if it was safe to land or not. They stopped for a few hours then took to the sky at first light, wearier and more lost.

“This isn’t working,” Eva said after they diverted again later that afternoon, dodging between the numerous bands of Smelterborn growing more frequent with each mile eastward. “We’re just flying around in circles.”

“There will only be more the farther east you go,” Chel said. “And many more behind us to the west that we did not see.”

Ivan ran his hands over his sleep-haggard face, the lines of exhaustion crinkling the runes tattooed on his cheeks and brow. “We don’t have any clue where this island is, or if it even exists.”

“Hate to admit it, but he’s right,” Sigrid added. “You know I’d never turn down a fight, but if any of those Smelterborn catch us, we don’t stand much of a chance.”

“Eva…” Chel began, reaching out to take Eva’s hand in her own. “We don’t even know if Aleron is still alive…I want to find him as much as you but —”

“He’s alive,” Eva snapped, yanking her hand away from Chel’s grasp. “I know it. We’ll find him. We can’t stop now.”

And so it continued. For days, they woke at first light and flew up and down the edge of the woodlands. The Smelterborn grew in number just as Chel promised and it wasn’t out of the ordinary to come across a dozen different bands in a day. With game scarce, they subsisted on whatever prey the gryphons scrounged up during flight. On more than one occasion, they spotted a herd of deer bounding ahead of a party of Smelterborn and swooped down to pick one or two off to carry away for later.

The Smelterborn seemed to be everywhere, smashing their way through the woodland brush, crashing through streams and wallowing through mire. They gave no heed to any obstacle in their path, walking through or over everything, slashing down saplings and bushes, hefting aside boulders. Many marched west but others appeared to be searching for something. No matter how hard they worked to clear a path, they never paused or even slowed. Each night, Eva dreaded landing, fearing they would be set upon in the darkness. There were so many golems combing the woodlands and hills between the forests and the plains that they were bound to clash sooner or later.

Although the rest of the group carried on uncomplaining as the weariness took its toll, Eva saw the looks they passed between one another when they thought she wasn’t looking. It was plain they thought she’d gone mad. She wasn’t so sure herself anymore.

At night, Eva cupped her mother’s Wonder in her hands, staring into the depths of the light as if it could somehow show her father to her. When she laid down for a few hours of fitful sleep, she was plagued by dreams of a hooded man on a gryphon, shouting something unintelligible at her. No matter how hard Eva ran, or how loud she yelled — which often translated into real screams that woke the rest of the camp — she could never get him to come closer, however. The dreams became more outlandish as Eva’s hope faded with each passing day. Soon, even she doubted that her father yet lived.

After a particularly harrowing day when they’d been forced to remain in the air from late morning until nightfall the gryphons half-landed, half-collapsed at the foot of a small ravine. They’d frozen in the cold winter air with nothing but half-cooked, half-smoked strips of meat to eat. No one spoke, too tired to set a watch, too tired to do anything but huddle up next to the gryphons and sleep. When they woke the next morning, a dusting of snow had settled over them.

“It is time to turn back, Eva-lyn,” Chel said, wrapping her arms around herself to try to warm up. “We will die out here if we do not go north or west.”

Sigrid and Ivan stared at her through hollow eyes, too worn down to agree or disagree with either woman. Eva looked between her three friends and then at the gryphons. Their glossy coats and feathers were dull and muted and the fire was gone from their eyes.

“You’re right,’ Eva said, hating the words as they came out of her mouth, yet knowing it was the truth. “Let’s go north. It’ll be warmer and game will be more plentiful. We can recover our strength and decide what to do after that.”

She looked at Ivan and Sigrid, expecting one of them to tell her to stop being a storming lunatic and go home, but they both just gave weary nods and rose.

“You feel like we’re being followed by something?” Sigrid said, breaking the silence as they fed the gryphons and tightened down their packs on the saddles. “The Smelterborn are searching for something and they almost completely ignore us, but it’s like we’re still being watched, making sure we don’t get tied up in whatever’s going on.”

Eva nodded. She’d felt the same heavy presence, like the gaze of the Smelterborn, even when the golems weren’t around. With no way to tell the golems apart, who knew how many there were or how many times they’d seen the same groups over and over.

“Followed,” Eva repeated her breath. Realization struck her like a sudden winter storm. “That’s it!”

Sigrid, Ivan, and Chel looked at her like she was insane but Eva shook her head, words tumbling out. “Why didn’t I think of it before? We’ve been wasting all this time wandering around willy-nilly when we should have been following the Smelterborn. They’re obviously searching in some type of pattern and whatever it is they’re looking for hasn’t been found yet, otherwise, they’d be pushing farther west, wouldn’t they? If we just follow the Smelterborn, maybe we’ll come across who or whatever they’re looking for before they do!”

“You know,” Ivan said tapping his fingers against the rune markings on the back of his other hand. “That’s not a bad idea. On the gryphons, we can fly ahead of them to scout out the surroundings before they get to it, and if there’s anything moving in between them, we’d be able to spot it before they do!”

Eva looked at Sigrid and Chel. Both looked much less convinced.

“It might work?” Chel said, shrugging. “But it still does not change the weather from being winter and does not fill our bellies with food.”

“Three days,” Eva said. “We’ve got enough food stored that we can make it three days, even without hunting before we need to fly north.”

Chel shrugged, then nodded, a flicker of her old fire burning in her dark eyes. “Three days,” she agreed.

Eva looked to Sigrid who nodded. “Let’s make them count.”

It didn’t take long to find a group of Smelterborn: eight altogether, a mixture of the scouts and heavier golems, crashing in a line through the thick brush, leaving a trail of churned mud in their wake. The riders circled overhead, wheeling around to give the group enough time to move after they’d scouted ahead.

They continued shadowing the golems for two days and Eva became aware of a pattern in what had seemed at first to be reckless, random blundering. The group they followed moved north, while they passed two other parties that were headed in eastern and western directions. Although the Smelterborn carried on throughout the night, once they realized the shape of their searching, the gryphon riders could find a safe place to rest, relatively certain they wouldn’t be bothered. In the morning, they picked up the same trajectory and caught back up with the golems.

But even with this new discovery they quickly grew disheartened once more. Sure, they had discerned a pattern among the Smelterborn searchers, but that still didn’t make up for the hundreds of miles of country in every direction that could hold whatever the golems searched for.

“Do you want to keep following them?” Ivan said around noon on the third day. “We’re headed the direction we wanted to go anyway.”

Eva looked across the group at the dark circles and sallow faces of the exhausted humans and the drooping heads and wings of the once-proud gryphons. As bad as she wanted to, she knew she couldn’t ask anything more from her friends.

“No.” The decision weighed on Eva heavier than her sleet-soaked clothes. A storm had kicked up that morning, forcing them to fly low and drenching everyone in a thin layer of rain, then ice and snow. They needed to get a fire going and soon, Eva knew. “Let’s make camp. Tomorrow, we’ll head north, back into warmer country.”

Nobody said a thing. Although she knew how relieved they all must be to give up their pointless journey, Eva knew none of them wanted to admit defeat any more than she did. As they mounted the gryphons and took off again, she felt nothing but guilt for what she’d put her friends through and wondered what she could have done different.

The storm ceased in the afternoon, leaving them soaked but slightly better off. Looking for a suitable camp, they came across another group of Smelterborn. As always, the golems looked up at them, stared for a long moment and then resumed their trek. Eva didn’t even bother watching them anymore. Her eyes started to flicker shut and she shook her head. If Fury couldn’t sleep, then neither could she. But weariness set in again and this time, Eva couldn’t resist. She didn’t know how long she dozed before Chel tapped on her shoulder.

“Eva-lyn! Look! Look!”

Eva looked in the direction Chel pointed at a group of Smelterborn. They’d all stopped on top of an empty, wind blown hill. As if hearing some far off call, they turned as one to the southwest and stared. Eva whistled to get Sigrid’s attention but she and Ivan were already hovering on Sven, watching.

“What do you think’s going on?” Sigrid asked when Eva directed Fury closer to them.

“Maybe they found what they were looking for?” Ivan suggested. Although Eva couldn’t say why she hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Look!” Chel said, pointing west. “Over there!”

Another party of the golems was stopped a few miles to the west. Eva squinted and saw they were positioned the same direction as the Smelterborn below them. All at once, as if connected by a giant, invisible string, both groups of golems set off in a new direction.

“Well that can’t be good,” Sigrid said.

“Of course it’s not good!” Ivan groaned. “They’re all heading south — where it’s colder and there’s nothing to eat! And now we’ve got to follow them!”

“We don’t —” Eva started to say before the other three cut her off.

“Of course we’re going to follow them,” Ivan said. “I haven’t spent the last fortnight half-frozen and starved to death to turn away as soon as we come on to something.”

Eva met each of their eyes and felt her own filling with tears, warm rivulets that ran down her face and thawed her numb, cold-bitten cheeks. She looked to the southwest, across the frozen windswept land and nodded.

“Let’s see what’s got their attention.”

The Smelterborn kept their same steady pace throughout the evening. It killed Eva to do it, but she halted them a handful of times before nightfall for a quick nap, something to eat and a meager fire. As much as she wanted to find the source of the Smelterborns’ sudden interest, she knew they didn’t stand a chance in a fight while exhausted and hungry.

Without the slightest deviation, the iron golems continued west. Emboldened, the gryphon riders pushed on ahead, leapfrogging one group after another, all heading in the same direction. Although the weather grew stormier and more bitter, the wildlife increased when they passed back into the Endless. They gorged themselves on fresh elk meat and half-frozen tubers Chel clawed out of the hard, frost-bitten ground.

And then on the second day, Eva spotted it: just a dot on the horizon at first, a tiny black shape that looked like it might be an eagle or other large bird. At the distance, however, Eva knew it could only be one thing: a gryphon.

Chapter Twenty

“There!” she shouted pointing at the speck. “Look, there’s something flying!”

“I see it!” Sigrid yelled back.

A glance downward showed the Smelterborn following at a blistering march, almost as if they were drawn to the flying creature. Needing no further encouragement, Eva urged Fury on. The gryphon let out a tired call, but pumped his wings harder, fighting against a cross breeze to catch up with the flying figure in the distance.

The black speck grew larger and Eva realized they were gaining on it. But then, just before nightfall, the thing went to earth, disappearing in the evening gloam. Eva called a reluctant halt as well.

“We’re gaining on it and whatever it is, that’s what the Smelterborn are chasing!” Eva said, excitement overcoming the fatigue of the day’s travel. She looked at Chel. “ Do you think it could be him?”

The Juarag-Vo girl hesitated before answering. “Perhaps…perhaps not. I cannot say for sure until we draw closer. It also makes no sense that he is flying into Juarag tribal lands. They would be as likely to kill a gryphon rider as the Smelterborn.”

Eva tried to rein in her blossoming hope and focus on the situation at hand, but her mind kept drifting to the far-off bird — or gryphon — they’d found. To potentially be this close to her father filled her with excitement and anxiety all at the same time, but she knew it would be folly to try to find whatever or whoever it was in the dark. After a cold meal of meat and dried biscuits, some of the last of their fare from the traders, Eva volunteered for first watch, mind spinning too much to sleep anyway.

The night grew cold without cloud cover. Eva stared off into the pale stars, watching the frost gather on the plains grass poking through the first few inches of snow.  In the west, over the mountains, winter would be working up to full glory by now. Thoughts of roaring fires, mulled cider, and lazy evenings with Tahl drifted through Eva’s mind.

Shivering, Eva pulled her cloak tighter. Her breath misted in front of her, rising over Fury before wisping away in the darkness. She ran a hand over the gryphon’s head, grateful for his companionship. For not the first time, she reflected on how the journey would have been impossible without gryphons. They’d come a long way since the angry hatchling had first tumbled out of a stolen egg in Soot’s cottage but even more so on this journey. She doubted Fury would ever lose his stubborn streak, but their experiences over the past months had forged a stronger bond than anything else could have.

Looking over Fury’s wind-whipped feathers and matted fur, Eva felt a pang of guilt. She told herself she was taking the best care of her gryphon given the circumstances — even if those circumstances were her doing. At her touch, Fury cracked open his yellow eyes.

“Sorry, boy,” Eva began. “I didn’t mean to —”

The gryphon’s head shot up and swiveled toward the northeast. Eva placed a hand on her sword and stood, looking in the same direction. She didn’t see or hear anything. Even so, she felt a tingling throughout her and her body tightened, ready to spring into action. Fury continued to stare in the same direction, ignoring everything else. The rest of the camp remained asleep.

But Eva knew better than to doubt her gryphon’s superior sense of hearing, sight and smell. Still, she hesitated before waking the others. It might be nothing more than an animal, winding through the grass. There was no need in pointlessly waking everyone without cause.

She’d almost decided to settle back down when Fury’s head whipped in the other direction behind them. Eva turned as well, heart hammering. A handful of burning orange orbs smoldered in the distance, marking the presence of —

“Smelterborn!”

At the same time, Eva sounded the alarm, a long iron spear the size of a small tree buried itself in the frozen ground beside Fury.

Camp came to life, everyone scrambling for their weapons and searching for the danger. The Smelterborn scouts broke into long strides, covering the ground twice as fast as a human could. Fury screamed in the opposite direction and Eva saw two more of the golems approaching from behind. They were surrounded.

Eva cursed herself for a fool — they’d grown lax, thinking the Smelterborn cared only about whatever they were searching for. Apparently, this close to their prize, that wasn’t the case anymore. Three more spears flashed through the air. They struck the ground with a loud whump, so hard Eva felt the impact through her feet.

Another spear whizzed by and Eva clenched her teeth as it passed between the two gryphons, skittering away into the dark and squashing any thought she had of taking flight. Unless they wanted to end up like pincushions, they were trapped on the ground.

Ivan summoned a ball of cold blue flame in each hand, feet spread, prepared to attack. Chel and Sigrid grabbed their spears, walking in a slow circle around the gryphons.

Eva drew her short sword, wishing for her spear, which had been long since lost back in their departure of the Mother of Cities. The Smelterborn closed in, each drawing metal rods as big and long as the lances carried by the king’s knights back in Rhylance.

“Chel, any advice?” Sigrid shouted over her shoulder.

“Don’t let them hit you!” Chel yelled back. “Aim for the eyes in the slits of their helmets, it is the only way to bring one down.”

Eva glanced back at the gryphon’s saddles but she knew it was pointless. The only bow they’d had was Chel’s and it had run out of arrows long before. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Strike hard and strike first. Words ingrained through countless hours of training echoed in her mind and she charged forward at the pair of Smelterborn to the north.

“Ivan, with me!”

Eva ran full speed, quickly closing the distance between her and the Smelterborn. As she drew within a few paces of the lead golem, a burst of pale blue light struck it in the face and covered its helm in a mask of ice. The golem’s head flipped back and it smacked the layer of ice with a gauntleted hand, trying to break free.

Eva passed it by and charged at the second golem. The Smelterborn swung at her with its iron rod. Eva ducked and rolled, feeling the air whoosh above her. She barely had time to roll again to the side as the iron rod stabbed the ground where she’d been. Glancing at the golem, she saw its body twisted around in a position that would have broken a human back.

Eva sprang inside the Smelterborn’s reach and stabbed at its fiery eyes with her sword. The blow missed on the side of the dark helmet and rebounded in her hand. In the next instant the Smelterborn swept its armored arm at her, the impact felt like she’d been struck by a tree, and lifted her into the air.

Eva hit the frozen ground hard a few paces away and tried to heave in a breath of air. Her vision spun. Her ears rang. She couldn’t move even though she saw the Smelterborn stomping toward her, iron staff raised over its head. Eva groaned, trying to draw breath to move. The staff rose high in the air and Eva winced, preparing to be smashed into a pulp.

Shrieking, Fury struck. The gryphon’s talons reached out and wrapped around the Smelterborn’s weapon. The golem held tight and instead of the staff being ripped from its grip, it toppled over, crashing to the ground from the force of Fury’s charge. Eva forced herself to her feet, willing her body to move.

Before she could plunge her sword into the Smelterborn’s helm, however, the golem rolled over onto all fours. Eva mustered her strength and struck again. Yet again, the blow glanced off the iron helmet and the Smelterborn stood as if it hadn’t felt a thing. Fury flew in and struck the golem in the side. Both tangled together, locked in a struggle to the death.

The Smelterborn wrapped an arm around Fury’s neck, trying to crush the gryphon against its armor. Fury clawed his way free and out of the golem’s grasp. When it reached for the gryphon’s tail, Eva swung her blade down with all her might against the Smelterborn’s arm. It felt like striking an anvil. Her sword rang in her hand and she leaped back just in time as the golem kicked with enough force to snap both of her legs.

Eva panted next to Fury and glanced at the others. Ivan had managed to down one of the golems and she saw a plume of dark, acrid forge smoke rising from the thing’s empty helmet. The Scrawl launched handful after handful of fire and ice at the remaining golems while Sigrid, Chel, and Sven defended themselves.

The Smelterborn in front of Eva rose again and shook itself as if nothing had happened. Fury let out a long hiss and crouched low. Eva circled away from the gryphon, hoping to confuse the golem by coming at it from opposite sides. Instead, the Smelterborn charged her.

It happened so fast, Eva could only leap aside as the iron staff rushed through the air where her head had been a moment before. This time the Smelterborn anticipated the move and dug in its armored boot, twisting its torso around at an inhuman angle. The staff smacked the ground inches from Eva’s face as she came out of her roll.

But before the golem could crush her, Fury leaped on the Smelterborn’s back, worrying its neck with its beak as if it were a mountain elk back in Rhylance. The gryphon’s razor-sharp beak did nothing against the dull iron armor. Stretching its arms out, the golem scrabbled to grab hold of Fury, dropping the staff at its feet.

Fury clung tight and the golem could do nothing to remove him. Swaying in the gryphon’s embrace it crashed to its knees.

With all her might, Eva raised her sword and thrust it into the Smelterborn’s eye openings. It felt like striking a tree, but Eva threw her weight into her sword. The tip of her blade pierced the Smelterborn’s burning eyes and gave way at last.

An unearthly shriek cut through the night and a dark shadow burst through the golem’s helmet, knocking Eva aside. When she sat up, the Smelterborn’s grip on Fury went limp and it toppled face first to the frozen ground.

Eva’s body shook, from the terror of the dark shadow and sheer exhaustion alike. Fury panted beside her, equally spent. Her entire body throbbed and Eva fought the overwhelming urge to lie down and sleep. Instead, she gritted her teeth and struggled to her feet once more.

She only had time to take a breath before Ivan’s panicked shout drew her attention. He and Sigrid held the remaining Smelterborn at bay while Chel crouched behind them, cradling her arm against her side.

Sven swooped overhead at the golem’s helmet in an effort to distract them from the riders but the Smelterborn paid no mind, nor did it show any concern for its own fallen companions. The golem stomped forward, a sword as long as a wooden beam held in both its hands.

“Eva!” Sigrid screamed.

Summoning the last remnants of her strength Eva rushed to Chel’s side with Fury close behind.

“Here,” Eva said, reaching her side. “Let me help you onto Fury.”

“No!” Chel said, “I will not leave you.”

“You’re no help to us like this,” Eva insisted. “Now go!”

Half dragging Chel, Eva helped her into Fury’s saddle. The gryphon gave Eva a wild look but held still. She could tell he longed to jump back in the fray, even weary as he was from the fight already.

“Get her to safety!” Eva only had time to strap one of Chel’s legs in before Sigrid and Ivan called for help again.

Just as Eva turned, she saw the Smelterborn bury its massive blade between Sigrid and Ivan with a blow that would have split a gryphon in two. Ivan turned to the stuck sword, a flurry of words coming from his mouth faster than Eva could ever have spoken. Ice shot up the weapon, freezing it in place with the Smelterborn’s arm attached to it.

Sigrid stepped forward and lunged with her spear at the golem’s helm but the Smelterborn wrenched itself around, knocking the blow aside and sending her flying in the same fell swoop. She landed hard and did not rise.

Eva forced herself not to run to Sigrid — she couldn’t leave Ivan to deal with the golem alone. Rejoining the fray she maneuvered around the golem’s side and struck at the back of the Smelterborn’s knee. Another ball of ice struck it in the head, much smaller than the previous — Ivan was tiring, his rune magic fading.

With one hand, the Smelterborn wrenched its sword free in a cascade of ice. Its free hand swooped down and grabbed Eva around the waist at the same time, before she knew what happened. It lifted her in front of its face and stared at her with burning eyes. Caught up close in the terrible gaze, Eva froze in terror.

For a brief instant, the flames seemed to burst from the Smelterborn’s eyes, encompassing Eva in a ring of fire. A cloud of acrid, metallic smoke engulfed her. Screaming women and wailing children filled her ears, mixed with the clash of metal on metal. An overwhelming terror gripped her harder than the Smelterborn’s iron fist. Darkness crept at the edges of her vision.

All at once, a golden light burst through the smog.

The dark, frozen landscape around them glowed like noonday and the Smelterborn staggered back, shielding its face with its free hand. Eva’s Wonder blazed through her tunic like the sun itself. Still, the golem refused to let go. Eva felt the iron fingers around her waist tighten and knew she would be crushed.

A shriek split the air and for a moment, Eva thought it was her own. In the back of her clouded mind, she realized it wasn’t her at all. An unfamiliar gryphon screamed again, more wild and untamed than any she’d ever heard. With the last of her strength, Eva looked up through the bright light expecting to see Fury’s coppery red body.

Instead, a flash of golden fur and feathers greeted her, illuminated by her Wonder. Eva felt the wind rush past her and a fisted foot struck the Smelterborn. Surprised, the golem dropped Eva and reeled, searching for its new foe. Her entire body numb and tingling, Eva struggled to crawl away as the golden gryphon wheeled past again.

A rider sprang from its back between Eva and the Smelterborn.

The rider drew their sword in one fluid motion. When the weapon pulled free of its scabbard, a series of runes ignited along the blade, burning with the same golden-white light as her Wonder.

The cloaked figure strode toward the flailing Smelterborn without hesitation and swung their sword in a wide arc. The runed blade buried itself deep in the Smelterborn’s leg and it crashed to the ground. Switching their grip on the sword, Eva’s savior swept the blade across the Smelterborn’s neck.

The gigantic grey helmet spun from the golem’s shoulders. Eva fought to keep her vision in focus. Was this all part of the hallucination? Had the Smelterborn crushed her after all?

In a whoosh, the golden gryphon landed a few paces away. Eva gasped. Where one of its forelegs should have been there was only a stump. The gryphon shook and its head feathers splayed out like a great wild mane. For a brief moment, Eva feared it might attack her next.

Instead, its rider crossed between them and stood over Eva. As the light from her Wonder and the sword faded, Eva saw the rider’s wild, gray-blond beard and haggard, weather-lined face. Their piercing blue eyes met one another and Eva recognized her uncles in the stranger’s face.

Eva opened her mouth, but nothing would come out. Her stomach twisted in a knot of fire, heart pounding harder than it hard throughout the entire battle. She swallowed and fought to stay conscious.

She’d never seen it before, but she knew that face.

The man froze in his tracks as if he recognized her as well. His rune-inscribed sword dropped from his hands. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and broken.

“Marien?”

Chapter Twenty-One

Eva shook her head in a daze but somehow found her voice. “Muh — my name’s Ev — Evel — Eva… it’s Eva.”

The man frowned and broke free of whatever spell from his past that made him think Eva was her mother. He bent and retrieved his sword then pointed at Eva’s Wonder, now hanging outside her shirt and flickering.

“Where did you get that?”

Eva’s trembling hand found the white stone around her neck. She felt hot tears run down her face and took a shuddering breath, too overcome with emotion to notice the pain in her sides.

“It was a gift,” she managed. “A gift from my mother.”

Whatever her father thought she was going to say, Eva could tell it wasn’t that. Aleron’s eyes went wide and he staggered backward into his three-legged gryphon. Everything: the defeated Smelterborn, Eva’s friends, the bitter cold seemed to disappear around Eva.

“Your… mother?” he whispered. Eva saw his scarred hand clutch at something around his own neck. “You got my message? Is your…Adelar?”

Eva shook her head. She tried to speak, but the words just wouldn’t come. After a deep breath, she pointed at her father. Aleron sank to his knees as understanding dawned. Tears sprang from his cold blue eyes and trailed down the weathered wrinkles in his face.

“It can’t be,” he whispered. The golden gryphon dipped its head down and nudged its rider. “I… I didn’t know, I never…”

Aleron’s voice trailed off and he stared at Eva, seemingly unable to believe what he was seeing.

“You look just like your mother,” he said after a long pause. “Except for the hair, got my hair. How…how is she?”

The feeling of joy faded a bit as Eva looked at the ground in front of her, searching for the right words. “She… I never met her. She died giving birth.”

Aleron’s face hardened and he nodded, but she could see the hurt behind the rough mask. “I see.”

 Somewhere in the darkness, Sigrid groaned and Ivan hobbled to her side. Fury called out and landed beside Sven, breaking the moment between Eva and her father. Everything came rushing back around Eva.

“It is really you?”

Chel’s voice sounded weak and strained. Aleron’s head shot toward Fury.

“Little Flower, that you?”

Aleron started toward Fury and then stopped in front of Eva. He held out a hand and helped her to her feet. Once she was standing, he turned her palm over in his hand and nodded in satisfaction at the calluses from Eva’s sword hilt. With her father’s help, Eva managed to hobble to Fury’s side.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” her father said, leaning over Fury to pull Chel into a one-sided hug. Eva felt a rush of jealousy as the two embraced for a long moment, reminding her of all the years she’d missed with Aleron.

 Behind them, the golden gryphon let out a warning call. Aleron pulled away from Chel and his brief show of warmth faded. “Sunflash is right. There’s time for real introduction later — we’ve got to move.”

Eva nodded and turned to find Sigrid and Ivan leaning on one another a few paces away, watching. Both had pronounced circles under their eyes and weariness tugging at their postures.

“Can you fly?” Eva asked.

Sigrid nodded. “Just got knocked around a little — don’t think anything is broken.”

“I’m fine,” Ivan added. “Just drained.”

Aleron’s face flashed surprise at Ivan’s rune markings but didn’t say anything. “Let’s fly.” He pointed to Eva. “Until we can get her fixed up, Little Flow — Chel, should ride alone to keep that arm from getting knocked around more. Get her strapped in and wrapped up as warm as you can. You’ll ride with me and Sunflash.”

In a daze, Eva did as she was told then followed her father toward the golden gryphon. Sunflash turned when Eva reached his side and gave her a long look but held still for Eva to mount. Climbing up, Eva noted the various repairs and random bits of leather and string that held the gryphons worn out tack together. Aleron swung into the saddle in front of Eva and winced. She spotted a blood stain soaking through a bandaged cut in the side of his jerkin.

“You’re hurt!”

“What — oh.” Aleron glanced down as if he noticed the wound for the first time. “It’s nothing new. Got it poking around the coast. Must be losing a step in my old age.”

He nodded toward Sunflash’s wing and Eva saw a ragged cut along the top. Droplets of blood hit Eva in the face as the gryphon flapped his wings for takeoff.

“We got a little banged up, but there’s not a golem out there that me and Sun can’t handle.”

The gryphon clicked his beak in agreement and Aleron let out a whistle. Eva felt the familiar lurch as the gryphon crouched down and the next moment they were in the air, wind whipping by them in the bitter night.

“The clankers have been hunting us,” her father said over his shoulder once they leveled out. His breath misted over his shoulder in the bitter night sky. “Ever since we left the coast — it’s like they’ve been put on to our trail somehow.”

“Clankers?”

Eva hugged herself, trying to hold in what little warmth she could as they sped through the dark sky, the golden gryphon seemingly unaffected by the extra passengers and his wounded wing.

“The Smelterborn,” Aleron said. “That’s what I call ‘em. But they’re too late.” He reached under his jerkin and pulled out a diamond-shaped medallion about the size of Eva’s fist. “I got it!”

Eva stared at the object, a sense of all too familiar unease and dread settling over her. The amulet was made of pitch black metal with deep red specks and irregularities throughout. It reminded Eva of her Wonder but seemed to swallow light instead of emitting it. She reached for her mother’s stone, tucked safely beneath her shirt and felt a small pulse of comfort.

“What is it?” Relief filled her when Aleron tucked the unsettling object away.

“It’s what I went looking for: the secret to destroying the Smelterborn for good,” Aleron said

In spite of herself, Eva was filled with doubt. “How do you know that?”

“Because I saw them using it to create more golems, that’s how!” He sounded impatient like he was explaining the most obvious thing in the world. “Soon as I stole it, all those clankers were on me like flies on a dead buffalo. That’s why we were heading west — I didn’t know if Little Flower ever got my message back to Rhylance. It’ll take someone more learned in rune lore than me to figure out how it works.”

“Why do you keep calling Chel Little Flower?” Eva asked, confused.

"Little Flower was her kid name,” Aleron said. “The Juarag have to earn their adult names — it makes her nuts when I forget to call her the right one.”

“Oh.”

Eva felt the fissure of lost years between them as keen as when Aleron had embraced Chel. For several long moments, they lapsed into a painful silence. The cold night air closed around them. At last, Aleron cleared his throat and spoke.

“How did you end up out here? Did that rotten bastard of a brother of mine send you?”

In spite of herself, Eva smiled at her father’s description of the king. Fighting to keep her teeth from chattering, Eva related the story of how they’d found Chel and their journeys since. Aleron listened in relative silence, only interrupting Eva a couple of times to ask clarifying questions.

“You did good, girl,” Aleron said in a gruff voice. Eva’s heart caught in her throat and a warm swell of pride overcame her. She began to stutter out a reply but her father cut her off. “Never thought I’d have a Windsworn daughter. How’d that come about?”

And so Eva went back to the beginning, to her life growing up with Soot, her first encounter with Ivan and the stolen gryphon egg that became Fury, all the way through her training at the Gyr. Aleron had plenty to say throughout, from his surprise at Soot’s paternal abilities to Celina’s betrayal.

Although he didn’t seem to have relinquished any ill will toward Adelar, he asked plenty of questions about both brothers. When Eva told him about her last conversation with the king and Adelar’s desire to find his younger brother and bring him home, Aleron scoffed. “Finally let a little warmth into that stone cold heart of his, huh?”

Eva didn’t know what to say — it seemed that the fallout between the three brothers was a nasty scar for Aleron, healed over but far from gone. Sensing her father’s mood sour, Eva asked about Aleron’s journeys since he’d left the Juarag-Vo.

“First thing I did was head back to the island — old Palantis,” Aleron said. “I had a hunch that was where all the clankers were coming from — it’s where Soot found Seppo, after all. Took me the better part of a year to make it that far through clanker country. There’s clankers everywhere, especially on the island. Took a lot of sneaking around, but I finally found their secret.”

Aleron patted his chest where the Wonder hung beneath his clothing. “I don’t know much about the Ancients, but I think it’s some kind of corrupted Wonder. Who or what made it or how it’s used I couldn’t find out. The clankers had it in this big altar that looked like some kind of forge. It wasn’t easy snatching it, I’ll tell you that.”

He continued speaking of his life on the plains, how he’d come to live with the Juarag-Vo and the wandering he’d done after leaving Rhylance. Although Eva tried hard to hang on every word, she soon found her eyes drooping. At some point, she fell asleep completely and only came awake when they began to descend. With a start, she jolted awake. She’d been resting her forehead against her father’s back.

When they touched down Eva and Aleron checked on Chel. Although she was cold, she seemed to be holding steady. Sigrid and Ivan joined them and Eva made introductions.

“You look like you know your way around a fight,” Aleron said to Sigrid, who smirked and nodded.

“And you,” her father continued, nodding to Ivan. “Saw your kennings as I flew in. That was some pretty fancy rune work, and I’ve seen some talented Scrawls in my day.”

The way he growled it out made Eva think Aleron didn’t give praise lightly, but she was pleased her father found her friends up to snuff.

After a short rest to recover some of his spent energy, Ivan set about tending to the group’s injuries. He started with Chel, using the broken shaft of Sigrid’s spear to form a brace before healing it as best he could. Eva watched as he ran his palm over the crooked appendage, muttering the words under his breath. The kenning poured out of the Scrawl’s mouth like a mountain stream cascading over river rock and a green light engulfed Chel’s arm.

When Ivan finished Eva was relieved to see some color and energy come back into Chel’s previously drawn face. Chel thanked the Scrawl before rising to greet Sunflash. The golden gryphon gave a chirp of recognition and pressed the top of his head against her when Chel wrapped her good arm around the gryphon in a half hug. Seeing her look at the other gryphon, Fury nudged Eva until she turned around and scratched him beneath the beak on his chin feathers.

“You’ve been amazing,” she whispered into the gryphon’s tufted ear as a low purr rolled in his chest. “We’re heading home now — you can have a long rest in the Gyr, I promise. Fury let out a small chirp and Eva tossed him a chunk of meat, before moving on to the others.

Ivan had just finished a kenning over Sigrid’s ribs and turned to Aleron and Sunflash, hands raised. Eva’s father waved a dismissive hand. “Save your strength.”

“But your wounds!” Eva protested.

Aleron shrugged. “Been that way since we got ‘em. Won’t heal up.”

“At least let me take a look,” Ivan said.

Aleron gave a reluctant nod toward Sunflash. “See what you can do for Sun, then. He’s the one that needs it most.”

Ivan approached the golden gryphon, who watched him with apprehension until Aleron placed a calming hand between Sunflash’s shoulder blades. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, the Scrawl held his hands over the center of the ragged cut and began his kenning, spreading his hands in either direction.

For a moment, green light flared and sank into the wound, and Eva thought the rune magic had worked. A moment later, however, the healing light turned into a wisp of smoke and blew away, leaving the wound the same as before. Ivan frowned, and repeated the kenning, louder this time. The same thing happened. He prepared to try a third time but Aleron shook his head and grabbed the Scrawl’s wrist before he could begin again.

“Like I said, nothing doing for now. Save your strength, kid.”

“Sorry I’m not more help,” Ivan said, brow furrowed as he studied the wound. Eva could tell his inability to help Sunflash troubled him. “When we get back to Rhylance, I’m sure the Skraeling elders will be able to do something for you, though.”

Eva’s father paused before answering, staring off behind them in the direction of the Smelterborn. “Sure…” He shook his head and seemed to come back to the present. “It’ll take the clankers awhile to catch up. Try to get some rest — we’ll head out at first light.”

The way he said it left Eva with no doubt that Aleron was used to being in charge. She admired the way her father naturally assumed a leadership role in a way she doubted she ever could. The constant doubt and second-guessing that plagued her didn’t seem to effect Aleron at all.

They spent the last few hours taking short naps and rotating watch. Between the cold and the apprehension of the Smelterborn tracking them, Eva didn’t think she’d be able to fall asleep when she finished her turn, but moments later she drifted into a sound, dreamless sleep. It seemed only a moment later when her father woke her with a shake.

“Time to get moving.”

Eva cracked her eyes open and sat up. A thin strip of grey on the eastern horizon outlined Aleron. As the others roused, Eva re-saddled Fury, brushing the frost from his back. The gryphon curled his head around to watch her as she did up the straps.

“I know — it wasn’t much of a rest,” she said, trying to avoid his guilt-giving look. “But the Smelterborn didn’t rest at all. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like fighting any more of them anytime soon.”

By the time they took to the sky, an orange blotch shone in the east, spreading pale rays across the dead, frosted grass. The sight of dawn gave Eva hope, even if they continued shivering in their saddles long after sunrise. Throughout the morning they took turns flying back to watch out for the Smelterborn. Just after noon, Sigrid returned from her scouting flight and let them know their luck had run out.

“How do they do it?” she asked no one in particular, punching her fist into her palm. “We’re flying slow, sure, but it’s like they’re moving even faster now!”

“They’re drawn to the Wonder,” Aleron said, clutching at the stone beneath his tattered, faded furs. “It saps our strength and they feed off it. We’ve got to pick up the pace.”

Eva stared at her father, alarmed at his ominous words and sudden dark mood. She didn’t see how they could move faster. Between Sunflash’s injury and the other two gryphons carrying double riders, they were overtaxed already. Later in the day they halted again and sent Sven off riderless in search of prey, their food all but gone. He returned carrying a scrawny coyote between his claws. It looked even more starved than the gryphons. Aleron grimaced.

“I’ve eaten enough ‘yote in my day to know I’m not hungry enough to want any right now.” Sigrid gave Sven a reluctant pat of thanks while the others eyed the mangy animal and agreed with Aleron. The three gryphons made short work of the skinny coyote and they took to the air again, bellies tight with hunger, still freezing even in the pale sunlight.

Their flight turned into a nightmarish game of cat and mouse. Fatigue took its toll on human and gryphon alike. Each time they stopped, whether to rest or hunt for a meager meal, the Smelterborn gained. Had they been able to fly without stopping, Eva knew they could outdistance the golems. If they just had a day or two to recover and gather their strength, she thought they would be able to escape. But the Smelterborn pursued the stolen Wonder with relentless, inhuman determination.

“There’s about fifty of the bastards now,” Aleron reported. “Less than half a day behind us.” It’d been three days since they’d met. Eva wished she had more time to speak with her father, but between their brief naps and meals, there hadn’t been a spare moment.

Eva looked across their little group as each processed the news. The three gryphons hung their heads low, grateful for the break in flight. The humans looked just as weary: faces gaunt, eyes hollow. They were down to just the meat they could hunt now — the dried tack of the traders long gone. In most cases, they barely had time to cook any of it before taking to the skies again, knowing each minute they spent on the ground, the Smelterborn drew closer.

“By my estimate, we’re about halfway across the plains,” Aleron said, breaking the discouraging silence. “For once I wish we could run into a group of those storming cat riders. We could introduce them to our clanker friends and be on our merry way.”

Eva thought back to the sabercat in the fighting pit at the Mother of Cities and her brief skirmishes with the Juarag on the frontier. The last thing she wanted to come across right now was a group of their warriors but said nothing.

Still only halfway home.

The realization punched Eva in the stomach as hard as a Smelterborn fist. She knew they’d never make it at their current pace and knew just as well they couldn’t travel any faster. Eva watched as the rest of the group came to the same realization and a heavy, oppressive silence settled upon them.

She looked at Aleron and Sunflash. Her father and his gryphon looked twice as weary. Their wounds hadn’t grown worse, true, but neither had they healed any. Eva saw how it sapped their strength. Ivan had tried a couple more times with no success to heal them but seemed optimistic it could be done back in Rhylance.

If they ever got back to Rhylance. Eva tried to squash the words as soon as she thought them, but they clung to her mind as dogged as the Smelterborn. To have come so far, suffered and overcome so much, only to be defeated now…

“Sigrid, why don’t you and Ivan go on Sven and see if you can rustle up something for us to chew on?” Aleron suggested. He nodded to Fury, Eva and Chel. “We’ll do a bit of scouting around and see if there’s anything but sky-forsaken empty land for miles, might be we can find somewhere defensible to rest up or even a Juarag tribe to sic the clankers on.”

Eva thought back to the Juarag-Vo tribe, and the slaughter left behind from the Smelterborn. She wouldn’t have wished that on anyone, not even the Juarag raiders attacking Rhylance’s frontier towns. As Sven rose and flew away Aleron turned to Eva and Chel.

“I wanted to talk to the two of you alone,” Aleron said. “I’m not going back to Rhylance.”

Eva felt her insides turn cold but not from the wind curling past them with flurries of snow in its wake.

When neither she nor Chel spoke, Aleron nodded his head back toward the east. “We can’t outrun ‘em. Can’t fight ‘em, either. Your only chance is if I hold them off long enough for you to get that Wonder to Rhylance.”

Eva shook her head as the tears ran down her face. “No! We’ll find a way! There has to be something else — I’m not losing you now.”

Chel nodded, tears streaking her cheeks as well. “Do not do this,” she said. “The Smelterborn want the stone, they will only keep coming after us anyway. It is not worth it.”

Aleron sighed and ran a hand through his gray-blond hair. “Sky damn it,” he said. “I’m not handing it back over to the clankers.”

“Please,” Eva said reaching out to grab her father’s shoulder. “We still have time. Let’s just think about this. There’s got to be another way.”

Aleron glanced back to the east, concern creasing his face.

“One more day,” he said at last. “After that, we go with my plan.”

Both Eva and Chel nodded and Aleron seemed satisfied. He looked at them both for a long moment and cracked a jaunty smile, shaking his head. “I’m a lucky man to end up with a pair like you two.”

“We won’t let you down,” Eva said, as much to herself as her father. Chel nodded and the three mounted. They’d just taken off when they saw Sigrid and Ivan winging in, a small wild pig clutched in Sven’s talons.

Eva’s mouth watered at the thought of hot meat, even though it would be cooked over an open fire with no seasoning or anything to go with it. Her moment of anticipation didn’t last long.

“We gotta move!” Sigrid yelled as soon as she was close enough to be heard. “More Smelterborn coming from the north!”

Eva’s insides churned. Throughout the day she searched for any place they could make a stand, anywhere they could rest without fear of the Smelterborn overcoming them. But the Endless Plains, true to their name, yielded nothing but endless, rolling prairie.

The hours passed by. Yet another cold, lonesome evening set in.

Night came on quick, leaving them half-frozen and hungry. Just as they were about to land, however, Ivan spotted a dark outline off in the distance. “What’s ahead? It looks like a cliff!”

Sure enough, the last few streaks of gray light revealed a short ridge jutting out of the prairie. The group made a quick pass around and saw the red rock rose up in narrow butte with steep sides. It was inaccessible by any means except flight — at least Eva hoped. When the gryphons landed on top of the flat rock, Eva let out a long sigh and gave silent thanks for their luck’s change of wind.

“Not bad.” Aleron walked around the top of the butte examining their makeshift camp. “The clankers won’t have it easy climbing up here, that’s for sure.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but has anyone else realized we’ll be sitting ducks up here?” Sigrid said, gesturing around. “Sure, we can fly away, but if we’re surrounded, what’s stopping the Smelterborn from giving chase after us? We lose our half day head start, then what?”

“Better to make a stand where you’ve got the advantage than get ran down like rabbits,” Aleron said. “Don’t they teach military tactics at the Gyr anymore? Besides, I think we can cook up a few surprises for the clankers with our Scrawl friend here.” 

He looked at Ivan but would say no more, suggesting they get a fire going and the pig cooking. Eva questioned aloud if it was wise — a fire at their height over the plains would light up the surrounding country for miles.

“The Smelterborn are drawn to the Wonder,” Aleron said. “They don’t need to see a fire to find us.”

They set about preparing the animal. After the gryphons had their share there wasn’t much left for the humans but Eva devoured the tough, fire-blackened meat. In their state of starvation, it seemed like the best thing she’d ever eaten. She wondered what Tahl would think of her squatting around a fire like a savage, fingers and face covered in grease as she gnawed at every last sliver of meat on the bone.

When they finished eating, Aleron walked them around the edge of the butte and outlined his plan.

“The thing about clankers is they’re not the brightest buckets,” he said. “They might pack a wallop, but they’re too big to do things like climbing. Some of the scouts might be able to make it up here, but the rest won’t be able to do anything but bang their helmets against the rocks at the bottom.”

“So what good does that do us?” Sigrid asked. “We pick off the few that make it up here to us, then sit here and freeze or starve to death while the rest surround us?”

“Depends on how many there are between the two groups,” Aleron said. Eva noted how he diverted Sigrid’s challenge with ease. “Our Scrawl should be able to cook up some trouble for the ones stuck at the bottom. We’re getting closer to the western plains now — we thin them out some and we might be able to leapfrog from butte to butte. There’s mesas all over this part of the Endless. I’ll stay behind while one of you scouts ahead  — the clankers won’t leave as long as they know the Wonder is still here.”

“This is insane,” Sigrid said, shaking her head. When she stopped, a familiar, half-crazed smirk spread across her face. “I like it!”

Aleron cracked a lopsided grin of his own. “Time to get some rest. Ivan, go ahead and build that fire up big as long as it doesn’t take too much out of you. I’d like to warm up these old bones and get a bit of shut-eye before things get wild.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

With nowhere to go in the morning, they slept in late — late being until the sky turned blue, instead of the slate gray of first dawn they’d normally risen to. Filled with an unsettling angst, Eva walked to the edge of the plateau.

Smelterborn swarmed everywhere.

They seemed to have sprung out of the frozen ground itself — close to a hundred by the look of things — all clambering over the broken rock at the foot of the butte like giant angry beetles. Aleron joined Eva and she could see the worry on her father’s face, she knew he was thinking about their backup plan.

“You said yourself we’d be fine as long as we can hold them from getting up here,” Eva said.

Before Aleron could reply, Sigrid shouted from across the butte, followed by Chel.

“I’ve got climbers over here!”

“They are coming up here too!”

Eva rushed to Sigrid’s side and drew her sword. Just as she looked over the rim, a javelin sped past her face. Eva stumbled backward, wide-eyed.

“Better be more careful next time,” Sigrid said, retrieving the javelin where it landed on top of the butte. For a human, it was too heavy to cast with any accuracy but Sigrid hefted it in both hands and threw it over the edge. Peeking over, Eva saw the javelin smack one of the scout golems in the head. The Smelterborn lost its grip and fell from the side of the cliff, knocking two of its companions off the rock face with it.

Eva and Sigrid shared a quick victory shout as the Smelterborn clanged and banged off the rocks, before landing in the loose rock at the bottom. Unfortunately, the golems clambered back to their feet and began climbing again, undeterred.

“Where’s Ivan?” Sigrid hissed. Eva glanced over her shoulder and saw Chel and Aleron tossing and shoving loose rocks off the edge of the butte, no doubt on the heads of unsuspecting Smelterborn climbers. Ivan stood a ways away from them, body alight with runes as he muttered kennings and hurled shots of ice down upon the golems.

“Looks like we’re on our own,” Eva said.

Pacing in the middle of the plateau, the three gryphons let out angry, frustrated screeches, stamping their feet and flashing their wings. It was safer for them to remain on the ground, even if they didn’t like it. If any of the three gryphons were injured there would be no way for all of the riders to make it off the plateau together.

“I can handle this,” Sigrid said. “Make sure they aren’t sneaking up somewhere else!”

Eva nodded and ran to the uncovered side of the plateau opposite of Ivan, to the left of her father and Chel. As she neared the edge, a giant dull gray gauntlet clamped down on the rock. Eva swung her sword down on the hand and her blade rebounded in her grasp, the Smelterborn unaffected. A second later the golem’s other hand appeared on the rim followed by its conical helmet and flaring orange eyes.

Fighting a rising panic, Eva struck again and buried her sword deep in the Smelterborn’s helmet slit. She yanked it free just as a gust of dark wind knocked her off her feet. Whatever foul spirit powered the golem shot free, screaming into the sky. The lifeless suit of armor went limp and slid from the edge of the plateau. Eva looked over in time to see it clatter off another one of its living companions knocking them back to the ground. But there were still three Smelterborn almost to the top, and Eva knew she couldn’t handle all of them alone.

“I need help over here!”

Ivan shot off one last blast of wind then joined her. Even in the cold weather, sweat ran down his shaved head and drenched his furs and leathers. Eva knew how much the continuous effort exhausted Ivan but he was their best chance of making it out alive.

Ivan glanced over the cliff edge, waving a hand to brush aside a passing javelin with another blast of wind. He twisted his hand in complex patterns, muttering, and slammed an open palm down on the rock. Before Eva could ask what he was doing, Ivan grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her backward. A few seconds later, the spot where they’d been standing sluffed away in a small rock slide. Eva heard the clank of rocks on iron plates and when the dust cleared, no climbers remained below.

“Will we run out of rock to stand on or Smelterborn first?” Eva asked. It was an effective tactic, but she also thought if they weakened the narrow butte too much the whole thing might collapse beneath them.

Ivan shrugged but before he could answer they saw Sigrid beating on the head of a Smelterborn with her ax, to little effect. A blast of ice shot from the Scrawl’s hand, missing Sigrid’s elbow by a finger’s width before it caught the Smelterborn in the face and knocked it off the butte.

And so it continued. The humans ran themselves ragged around the edges of the plateau to keep the Smelterborn from reaching them on top of the rock formation. Aside from Ivan’s rune magic and Aleron’s sword, there was little the rest could do to actually kill any of the Smelterborn.

As large and glowing as the menacing eye of the golems appeared, stabbing one through the helmet proved to be harder than it sounded. A few minutes into the fight, sweat ran down Eva’s back beneath her robes and leathers. She soon found herself gasping for air, sprinting from one edge of the butte to the other.

The Smelterborn continued. The ragged group of humans continued to repel them.

Despite their valiant effort, the moment came when all of them were distracted in other spots and three Smelterborn made it onto the butte top. Eva turned around just in time to see the scout golems rushing toward Sigrid, who was leaning over the edge of the plateau screaming and shaking her sword at the Smelterborn down below, completely unaware of the danger behind her.

“Sigrid!”

Knowing she couldn’t reach the Smelterborn in time, Eva drew back her arm and threw her short sword with all her strength. Right away she knew it was a foolish mistake. The short blade struck the lead Smelterborn in the side of the helmet, and it skidded to a halt, to look at her. Eva stood rooted to the spot, weaponless aside from a long knife. Two of the Smelterborn turned toward her and she knew with their stride they would be on her in moments.

Eva bounded forward as the gryphons charged as well, eager for an opponent at last. As the first golem swept its long sword overhead, Eva ducked and rolled. She came to her feet a few paces away just as all three gryphons bulled into the Smelterborn, burying the golem beneath a tide of fur and feathers. Eva shouted to her father as the gryphons and Smelterborn grappled with one another.

Once more, Eva witnessed her father’s skill with the blade in awe. He moved like water between attacks. After decapitating the first Smelterborn he pivoted and drove his blade through the chest of the second while the gryphons held it down. Pulling the sword free he sliced through the other’s head.

But in saving Eva and the gryphons, more Smelterborn had climbed the ledge near Chel. She backed away, waving her spear in front of her as two Smelterborn advanced on her. Eva retrieved her sword to aid Chel but before her or her father could move a shout and a ball of flame shot between them. It caught both Smelterborn and hurtled them backward over the edge.

And then there was silence. Ivan bent in half and threw up his meager breakfast, wiping his face with a shaky hand. Everyone else rushed around to the edges of the plateau but saw only the larger Smelterborn pounding at the rock, unable to climb. Their smaller counterparts were either empty lifeless shells or struggling to right themselves, some smoking, frozen or half-buried in rock.

“Well old man it was a crazy idea but it looks like it’s working so far,” Sigrid said between breaths.

“When you’ve been around as long as me, you learn a thing or two, even if you are hard-headed,” Eva’s father laughed.

“This is a battle that will be read in the Records for ages to come,” Ivan said, wiping sweat from his brow. “We’re actually going to —”

A shrill, piercing scream cut through the bitter air. All of them turned and looked to the east. A large black shadow approached, winging its way through the sky. Even at the distance, Eva knew it was no gryphon and knew as well that it had to be twice the size at least of Sunflash, who was one of the largest gryphons she’d ever seen.

“What new horror is this?” Aleron’s voice was tired and low. Even the three gryphons seemed cowed by the same sense of dread filling Eva, the same sense of hopelessness that had dogged them the past weeks now threatened to overwhelm the group. Another piercing scream split the sky and Eva covered her ears, squinting her eyes shut and gritting her teeth. The sound was terrible, not only to the ears but deafening to her courage as well. With every beat of its wings, the thing grew larger.

“The time has come.”

Aleron sheathed his sword and reached beneath his furs to withdraw the Wonder on its pitted chain from around his neck. The runes on the black stone glowed likes coals in a forge even though Aleron held it without wincing. Eva stretched out a shaking hand and winced when the stone touched her palm. The weight of the Wonder seemed to rest upon her entire body, far heavier than the stone itself. Eva felt a strange pulsing sensation between her mother’s Wonder and the corrupted one, like a current running through her.

“No!” Eva yelled. “We’re in this together!”

Aleron ignored her and looked at Ivan. The Scrawl nodded. He drew in a deep breath and, for a moment, Eva thought he would collapse. Instead, Ivan began chanting, twisting and spinning his hands around each other. Each kenning he spoke grew louder and louder. Eva felt the wind shift and a curtain of dust and snow whirled around them.

Soon, the howling wind drowned out Ivan’s voice. The gale rose about them, pulling first at their hair and clothes then their entire bodies. Eva braced herself as the summoned tempest threatened to lift her from the ground.

“Ivan!”

Eva could barely hear herself scream. She shielded her face with her hand, but could only see dirty air spinning around them. Then the violent winds began to take shape, forming a giant twisting funnel that lifted off the butte and spun toward the dark flying thing.

The air cleared just in time for Eva to see Ivan collapse to the ground. She ran to his side and tore her eyes away from the wind funnel to examine her friend. Blood ran from Ivan’s nose and he stared into the sky with unfocused eyes.

“Lost…control of it,” the Scrawl managed in a thin voice.

“You did it, kid!” Aleron shouted, pointing in the direction of the tornado to the east. “Look!”

 The twisting pillar of wind grew larger and larger, sucking up dirt, mud, snow and other debris as it crossed between them and the dark shape in the sky. Eva watched breathless, concerned for Ivan but unable to take her eyes from the monstrous spinning winds as they struck the creature flying toward them.

Eva yelled in triumph, but the celebration died on her lips moments later when the thing burst through the storm. She saw it was no creature of flesh and blood but a flying automaton fashioned from dark black metal. It resembled the dragon they fought in the Mother of Cities, except its body was smaller and had a beak, as long as a spear with a single horn coming out the back of his head. A golden-plated Smelterborn flew on its back pointing a sword at them as it steered its machinated mount toward the top of the butte.

Aleron undid his belt and pressed his rune-inscribed sword into Eva’s hands.

“No!” Eva screamed, reaching out for her father. “No, don’t do this!” She grabbed his arm and held on, desperate to keep him from flying away.

“Eva!” Aleron tore his arm free and placed both hands on her shoulders in a vice-like grip. “Eva, listen to me! The Wonder must make it back to Rhylance. No matter what happens, you must get it to safety!”

Eva shook her head tears running down her face as she clutched her father’s arms. “No, please…” she said in a broken voice, barely audible over the howling wind. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“We’re not going to make it, Eva,” Aleron said. “Sun and I — these wounds are killing us. I have to do this or you won’t stand a chance.”

Unable to speak, Eva reached for her sword and offered it to her father. She felt Aleron’s gaze as he took the weapon. He was smiling that crooked smile she’d come to love, cold blue eyes shining and determined.

“I’m proud of you, Eva.” She saw tears spilling down the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes before he pulled her into a tight hug “Finding you made it all worth it.”

Another grating shriek pierced the sky and Eva knew the flying golem would soon be upon them. Aleron beckoned to Chel and embraced her as well. “You two have to look out for one another, you hear me?”

Chel nodded through her own tears, but Eva screamed and lunged for her father when he stepped away. Ivan and Sigrid’s hands wrapped around her and pulled her back. Unable to break their grip, Eva continued to struggle as Aleron climbed onto Sunflash’s back.

“Tell my brothers I forgive them!” Aleron shouted. “Tell them I tried to make them proud in the end!”

Sunflash reared up on his back paws and Aleron drew Eva’s sword and raised it over his head. For a moment, they seemed frozen in place, like one of the stained glass heroes of the Windsworn memorialized in the palace at Gryfonesse. Eva knew she would never forget the sight.

Sunflash let loose a wild, untamed scream. The golden gryphon’s powerful lion legs propelled him and his rider into the storm.

Eva hardly noticed Ivan, Sigrid, and Chel pulling her toward Fury. She watched Aleron and Sunflash cut through the dark gray sky like a ray of sunlight, winging toward the giant black bat-like automation with the golden Smelterborn on its back.

The flying golem pivoted toward the gryphon and rider. Sunflash ducked under the wings of the thing and swooped up from behind in a half roll, latching itself on the back of the creature. In the background, the wind funnel twisted and bucked toward the combatants. Even at the distance, Eva could see her father struggling against the golden captain, trying to fend off the blows the golem rained down on Sunflash to free the gryphon from his metal mount.

Fury leaped into the battering wind and pumped with all his might to break free of the wind funnnel’s grasp. Twisting around in the saddle, Eva and Chel watched as the black-winged automaton spun out of control in the air, Aleron, and Sunflash still clinging to its back as the golden Smelterborn rained blow after blow upon them. A moment later, the tornado swallowed them up.

The wind whipped the tears from Eva’s face. As Fury flew away, she craned her neck, hoping against all odds to see Sunflash and Aleron flying out of the tempest. But neither her father or the golden Smelterborn and his flying mount appeared. It wasn’t until the tornado and the butte disappeared behind them that, Eva finally turned around and slumped over Fury’s neck.

The agonizing truth pierced her like a blade: her father was gone forever.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“That’s everything,” Eva said.

She stood a little straighter and wiped the tears from her face, trying to look like a Windsworn, still trying to make her father proud. “After the golden Smelterborn and his mount were destroyed in the storm, the rest gave up. We flew until we ran into the patrols.”

Three days. Just three days away from help. Aleron had misjudged how far they’d made it across the Endless. If only they’d known how close they were, they wouldn’t have had to make a stand.

If they had pushed on, would Aleron still be alive? The thought had tormented Eva ever since, widening the empty, bleak hole gnawing inside her heart ever since Aleron and Sunflash flew into the wind storm.

Eva’s uncles studied her, dry-eyed, with the same cold, intense blue eyes as their brother. The same piercing facial features, the same graying blond hair. She looked away, unable to bear the reminder of the loss.

“What about Juarag?” King Adelar asked. “Did you see any camps or war parties?”

They’d been told that the Juarag, seemingly driven before the armies of Smelterborn had all but overrun the frontier, halting their westward expansion only because the winter storms prevented them from crossing the Windswepts. Whoever the Windsworn could find still alive had been escorted to the capital. Gryfonesse and the surrounding lands teemed with refugees ill-prepared for winter.

“A couple, in the distance,” Sigrid said. Eva was grateful her friend had answered — in her grief, she had no desire to talk to anyone anymore that day. “Two large camps to the north. Once or twice we passed over some hunting parties on sabercats, but it looks like they’ve settled down for the winter.”

Andor pressed his forefingers together in front of his lips. “Perhaps, perhaps not,” he said. “The Smelterborn are unaffected by the cold and we have reported sightings of individual scout golems on the edge of the frontier. Even deep snows might not stop them from pushing westward. If that happens, the Juarag will get desperate, they’ll be forced to move again or be massacred.”

Eva wanted more than anything to say “I told you so.” Wanted to scream it. Even worse, they’d glossed over Aleron’s death to discuss matters of state like it was a mere side note in some report.

As if sensing her distress, King Adelar raised a hand to the circle of men and women in the court. “I believe we have enough to think on for the remainder of the day,” he said, eyes resting on Eva. “Let us adjourn until tomorrow afternoon. I am sure my niece and her friends would appreciate some rest.”

In the shuffle of seats and worried murmurs, Soot and Seppo made their way to Eva’s side. She’d been surprised but grateful to see her foster father and his golem at the council — a venerable pillar of support after the harrowing months. Although he’d already fussed over her like a mother hen a dozen times he started in again. “Damn fool thing you did, girl. You’re lucky you made it back alive.”

“But wasn't it worth it?” Eva asked, snapping more than intended. “If we hadn’t done something, where would we be now?”

“I believe mistress Evelyn is upset at the topic of this conversation,” Seppo said in his level, clipped tone. Eva looked up at him and flinched. After facing so many hostile Smelterborn, the presence of a golem up close — even the gentle giant Seppo — unnerved her.

“I didn’t say it was wrong,” Soot continued after an annoyed look at Seppo. “Just that it was damn foolish. Like I said before you left, it’s the same thing your father would have done.”

That was all it took. Eva buried herself in Soot’s chest, shuddering as his burly arms wrapped around her and held her tight.

“Hey now,” the old smith whispered in her ear. “I know it hurts but that’s the way he would have wanted to go out. Ha! The tales they’ll tell of him! If he was here now he wouldn’t want you crying, missy.”

Eva swallowed hard and heaved out a deep, calming breath. She wiped the tears away, grateful that most of the room was too busy conversing about Juarag raiders and Smelterborn to pay her any attention. Soot gave her another reassuring squeeze on the shoulder then clapped her on the back.

 “There you are, strong as steel!” He seemed to want to say more but glanced at something behind Eva and excused himself. Eva turned around and found her Uncle Andor standing there.

“What a pleasure it is to see you again, lord commander,” Seppo began. “I hope —”

Andor raised a hand to cut the golem off. “Seppo, I would like a few moments alone with my niece, if you please.” He motioned Eva to follow then led them into the king’s private study. Eva could see Adelar headed there as well, separating himself from one of his nobles with a nod.

Eva followed, stomach twisting like snakes. In the flurry of their return, no one had brought up the fact that both Eva, Sigrid, and technically, Ivan too, were criminals, deserters who’d freed a prisoner of war and disobeyed direct orders. Before Eva could dwell on it too long, the doors shut, leaving Eva alone with the only living blood kin she had left.

“I understand,” Andor began with a disapproving glance toward the king he could only get away with in a private setting such as the one they were in, “That you and your friends were not the only conspirators in this foolish quest. Be that as it may, do you realize you’ve broken a half dozen different oaths you took when you became Windsworn?”

Eva knew she should probably look down at the ground and mutter some kind of apology. It was what she would have done months ago, before the journey. Instead, she met Andor’s stern look.

 “I did the right thing. If we hadn’t gone, we would have no idea how powerful the Smelterborn have become, and the knowledge of how to defeat them would have died with —”

As she tried to spit out the words, a vision of Aleron and his jaunty smile flashed through Eva’s mind and she could only shake her head, unable to speak. Adelar rose and put his arm around her. Andor let out a long sigh and ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head. Eva got the impression he’d been in this same situation a hundred different times with her father back in the day.

“We’ve already discussed it,” the king said, arms still wrapped around her. “You and your friends will be pardoned of your crimes. If nothing else, Eva, you made up for my mistake all those years ago.”

Andor shook his head. “Huh, I never thought you’d be the one condoning rule breaking.”

Adelar shrugged, a thin smile spreading across his stern face. “Times change. People change.”

“So help me, if you ever do anything like that again,” Andor said, pointing a stern finger at Eva. “You’ll spend the rest of your days grounded, cleaning out the nests.”

Eva nodded and Andor let out a wry laugh. “If I had a gold piece for every time I said the same thing to your father…”

He trailed off and the three of them drew together in a tight embrace. At first, Eva thought she was the only one shaking with emotion, but then she felt the wet, warm tears splashing on her neck from above. For the longest time, niece and uncles stood in silence, arms intertwined, channeling their grief.

“He told me,” Eva said, through a tight and stuffed nose. “He told me to tell you he forgave you. I-I tried so hard to get him h-h-home.”

She choked on a sob again but found comfort in the strong embrace of her remaining family. When they finally pulled away, all three of them had swollen red eyes.

“I will have a statue of him commissioned,” Adelar said. “And his name put back in all the records. Aleron’s memory will live on forever among our people.”

“And we’ll have an honor pyre for him,” Andor said to Eva. “To recognize his sacrifice. He may have been storming mad at times, but your father was one of the greatest Windsworn who ever flew and Sunflash one of the mightiest gryphons.”

Eva nodded, finding some small satisfaction knowing her father’s heroics would be remembered. She knew, too, that the pain would fade in time, even if it never truly went away. Thinking back on the few precious days they’d spent together brought a measure of peace as well.

“Go on,” Andor said reaching for the doors. “You need some rest before tomorrow. Your rooms are in order at the Gyr.”

After a last hug, Eva’s uncle fell into a discussion in earnest of recent events. The guards opened the doors and Eva stepped back into the court. The hall had partly cleared, although Sigrid, Ivan, and Chel remained amidst the nobles and war leaders. Together, they walked outside where Fury and Sven waited. Eva paused to look at them all, human and gryphon alike and knew she couldn’t find better friends in all of Altaris.

“You’re looking at us like we’ve started growing feathers,” Sigrid said, giving her a troubled look. She waved a hand in front of Eva’s face. “You uh…okay, Eva?”

Eva laughed. It felt good after the tears and sorrow. The simple act helped her realize that the storm hanging over her heart couldn’t last forever. The winds of life had swept them up and done its best to break them each in turn. But although they were battered and broken, they’d made it out, stronger and harder than before. Eva found comfort and hope at the thought.

“Come on,” she said, swinging onto Fury’s saddle. “Let’s go home.”

The flight to the Roost seemed shorter than Eva remembered. When they reached their destination, a hundred different students and riders awaited them, Wynn in the forefront. The young woman demanded to know why Eva hadn’t taken her with them and told her and Sigrid in loud tones that she’d never forgive them. Then she pulled them both into a crushing hug.

“By the tempest, I’m glad you’re not rotting out in the middle of nowhere!”

Before the throng could press in closer, Roost Master Cassandra shooed them all away, threatening several students with excess cleaning duties if they didn’t disperse. Eventually, Eva and Sigrid were left alone to tend to their gryphons. Ivan escorted Chel to their quarters, making sure none of the Windsworn gave her a hard time on the way. Since they’d left, the fighting with the Juarag had come to a head and several riders and gryphons had paid the ultimate price to protect Rhylance. As such, many in the Gyr didn’t take kindly to what looked to be a Juarag warrior in their midst.

Eva pulled her cracked, weather-worn saddle from Fury’s back and hung it on its old stand. Aside from the wear and tear, once everything was stowed away it looked like they’d never left. On the other hand, part of her felt like it would never come back. She cupped the end of Fury’s beak in her hands, looking into the gryphon’s vibrant yellow eyes.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said in a soft voice before kissing his beak. Fury nuzzled against her shoulder in an uncharacteristic show of affection before stepping back and giving himself a long shake from head to tail, just like he did every time Eva brushed him down. As the gryphon shook, Eva winced at his lean frame and the many half-healed cuts and fresh scars running through his copper-red hindquarters.

“Go on you big idiot,” Eva said, laughing and shooing the gryphon away. “Go get something to eat and take a rest — I guess you’ve earned it.”

Letting out a long, jubilant screech, Fury leaped into the air, wheeling in a circle before disappearing out sight. Eva turned around with a smile on her face — right into Tahl.

“I uh —”

Before Eva could think of anything to say, he swept her off her feet and kissed her. When they pulled away, it was only long enough to suck in another breath of air.

“Get a room!” Sigrid yelled from across the now-empty roost. They ignored her and kissed once more before Tahl put her down.

Eva’s head spun and her heart hammered.

“I should have gone with you,” Tahl said. “I was an idiot and I’m wrong and I’m sorry. I thought I’d lost you.”

Eva didn’t say anything, just pulled tight against him, overwhelmed by the familiar scent of his tunic and the reassuring feel of his arms around her. A small part of the gray bleakness in her heart warmed, like the coming spring months away. Come what may, for the moment she was home.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“We know what it is,” Adelar said in an irritated voice. “But what does it do?”

Eva shifted in her seat, rear tired from hours of seated debate listening to the Scrawl Elders postulate on the purpose of Aleron’s Dark Wonder. They couldn’t make sense of most of the runes carved on the front or back. Unlike Eva’s Wonder, it constantly pulsed red light but never grew brighter or dimmed. Although she knew how important it was to figure out the relic’s purpose, Eva couldn’t help her mind from drifting to Tahl’s kiss the night before, to the way his arms held her and —

“Your majesty.” The elder who spoke had so many runes covering his head that it looked dark like frostbite. His words jolted Eva from her daydream. “One thing is certain — no matter how it is used, this artifact was created to forge chaos and spread death. There are markings upon this cube that are only described in the darkest of the surviving Palantines texts — vile blood magics and sacrificial powers.”

“It is obviously of great importance to the Smelterborn,” Andor said. “The riders who recovered it said the golems were drawn to it like a moth to a flame.”

“Indeed, lord commander.” The female Scrawl who spoke had her head shaved to a stubble, except for a long dark braid coming out the back. Before the council had convened, Andor had told Eva she was one of the members of their fated Eastern Expedition all those years ago. “Unfortunately, whatever lore surrounded this Wonder may only be accessible to the person — or thing — that controls the golems.”

Eva started at that. For some reason, she’d never before considered that the Smelterborn weren’t relics gone awry thanks to some sort of failing rune magic. Thinking back to their coordinated efforts to recover the dark Wonder, it seemed obvious now that something had to be directing them.

“There’s one inscription here that we’ve deciphered,” the female elder continued. “ It seems to be a key of sorts, but whether it is to unlock the cube itself or a kenning incantation, we do not know.” She frowned and held up the red and black stone for the assembly to see.

“And what does it say?” King Adelar asked.

“Your majesty, I do not know if it is wise to utter such things here…” Eva felt a chill at the sudden hesitation in the Scrawl Elder’s voice and the memory of the flying automaton’s awful shrieks echoed in her mind. She realized she didn’t want to hear the inscription either.

“A translation then,” Andor suggested. “If you please.”

The Scrawl woman cleared her throat. Looking around the room, Eva saw Ivan frown and Chel making the sign against evil. Others shifting in their seats, looking everywhere but at the Wonder.

“In the fires of hate, I forged a future far greater for Palantis than Talus ever could.”

The words falling like hammer blows in the silent chamber.

Silence reigned.

“Talus?”

Eva and everyone else’s head whipped to where Seppo stood behind Soot. None looked more surprised than the smith, who craned his head around to look at the golem.

“You got something to say, you old bucket of scrap?” Soot asked, annoyed.

“Talus…” Seppo repeated. He took several slow steps around the edge of the table and approached the Scrawl woman in the center of the court ring. Everyone’s eyes shifted to the Dark Wonder as Seppo reached out to touch it with an iron finger. At the last second, he jerked his iron hand back before it made contact with the stone, like a person afraid of being burned. Another long moment passed and the golem nodded to himself.

“My name is Talus.”

Windbreak

Copyright

Windbreak: Gryphon Riders Trilogy Book Three

Copyright © 2018

♠ Derek Alan Siddoway ♠

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the Derek Alan Siddoway. Thank you for respecting the author's hard work.

Permissions can be obtained through d_sidd@undauntedauthors.com

All characters, places and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real places, events, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First Edition, Ebook

Published December 2017 by Derek Alan Siddoway

Chapter One

“Talus,” Seppo said again. “My name is Talus.”

No one in the war council spoke. Eva stared, open-mouthed as Seppo reached out and lifted the Wonder in his hand. It was a spherical ball of unknown black metal — her father had stolen it from the ruins of Palantis in the far east. He’d sacrificed his life so that she and her friends could bring it back to Rhylance. They hoped it was the key to defeating the Smelterborn: enchanted, armored golems twice the size of a man that were nigh impossible to kill. Forged to spread death, chaos, and destruction, the Smelterborn knew no emotion and felt no pain.

The guards stirred. Hands went for swords. Seppo looked up from the Wonder, his round, metal, helmeted head swiveling in confusion, the two blue orbs that made up the golem’s eyes questioning the reactions of the humans around him.

“Don’t hurt him!”

Eva jumped out of her seat and ran to Seppo’s side. The Scrawls, masters of runes and lore who had been studying the Wonder and presenting their findings to the council, all took a step back when Eva neared the golem. The last thing Eva had to tell anyone was not to hurt the golem. Seppo stood at least a head over the tallest of men. His body, comprised of iron plates, gave him the appearance of a giant, walking, talking suit of armor, empty save for whatever magic gave him life.

Soot, her foster-father and Seppo’s owner, joined Eva and Seppo. He placed a cautious hand on Eva to back her away and stared at his ironclad friend with suspicion.

“What d’you mean your name is Talus?” Soot asked the golem. “We’ve been together twenty years and you’ve never said that name before.”

Seppo pointed a shaky iron finger as thick as Eva’s wrist at the dark Wonder. “It made me…remember things. Things from my past but they’re still shrouded. Talus was my name once. I’m sure of it.”

Eva was surprised to hear confusion and a trace of fear in Seppo’s clipped metallic voice. She’d only heard fragments of the story of how Soot came to own the golem. The smith had been part of a journey to the eastern part of Altaris. The expedition included Aleron — Eva’s father — her uncle Andor and several others. They’d eventually found their way to Palantis, the island home of the Ancients who’d disappeared centuries before.

The expedition explored the city ruins, unearthing a random assortment of artifacts including Seppo, a rune-engraved sword Eva’s father had given her before he died and a necklace he’d brought back for her mother, among others. Throughout history, many people had found other relics of the Ancients, deemed “Wonders” for their miraculous and improbable magical powers. However improbable it seemed, Seppo spoke as if he had lived in such a bygone era.

“What do you remember?” Soot asked in a sharp voice.

Seppo lifted up a gauntleted metal hand to rub the back of his head, like a gigantic old man lost in thought. “I… It’s all a whirl of places and faces. Something terrible happened and I was there, but beyond that, I do not know.”

“So we’re no closer to defeating the Smelterborn than we were before,” King Adelar, Eva’s other uncle, said.

“The First Forge!” Seppo’s panicked voice rang throughout the hall. “That was what I went back for. The First Forge must be destroyed!”

The king looked at Andor, the Lord Commander of the Windsworn. “What is this First Forge? Did you come across it in your explorations?”

The lord commander pursed his lips and thought for a long moment before shaking his head. “Who knows? Everything was in ruin and rubble, grown over by grass and weeds. I’ll look through my journals and the maps we drew of Palantis but, without knowing what I’m looking for, I doubt it’ll do much good. There certainly wasn’t anything spewing out Smelterborn when we were there, I can tell you that.”

“How do we know this... this thing can be trusted?” One of the nobles asked, pointing at Seppo. “All I see is yet another golem. Maybe it has been passing them information all these years!”

Several others shouted in agreement. Seppo spun around, mouth plate opening in shock.

“Stop it!” Eva shouted, cutting through the angry crowd. “You’re scaring him! I grew up with Seppo — he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Leave him alone.”

Although her heart pounded to be the center of attention in the court, Eva’s anger carried her past her timidity.

“Out of everyone here, I’m one of the few who’ve even seen a Smelterborn,” she said. “Seppo is not like them and I can prove it!”

Eva reached for the gold chain around her neck and withdrew the stone from beneath her shirt. She thrust her mother’s Wonder up toward Seppo’s face. The rose, gold and blue-colored lights danced off his muted gray armor. Otherwise, nothing happened.

“The Smelterborn can’t stand the light from the stone,” Eva explained. “If Seppo were the same as them, he would be on his knees right now.”

The magical stone on Eva’s necklace had helped her defeat several Smelterborn in the past but in their recent journey, she and her friends learned there were hundreds — maybe thousands — of the golems.

A few nobles returned to their chairs, but Eva saw their suspicious eyes linger on the golem. Tempers and voices raised until the entire council’s order collapsed in a cacophony of shouts and hand waving — complete madness.

At last, the king rose and restored order with a few shouts and hard, steely-eyed glares at some of the more outspoken attendees. When the room fell silent, he sat back down. Eva looked at her two uncles and saw the pronounced lines of worry and exhaustion on their faces, marks of running a kingdom and a military order for decades.

“Until we learn more about this First Forge and what connection Seppo has to it, we cannot make any rash decisions,” Adelar said.

“And what of the Juarag, my king?” a female noble that Eva didn’t recognize inquired from across the court. “How long before they begin raiding over the mountains into the heartland?”

“All of western Altaris must be united if we are to defeat the Smelterborn,” the king said in a raised voice, discouraging further dissent. “Rhylance, Pandion, Maizoro, the Scrawls, and yes, even the Juarag. I will send a delegation to meet with their warchiefs and form an alliance against the Smelterborn.”

Although none of them spoke, Eva saw that many of the nobility thought their king had gone mad judging by the looks on their faces. When the Smelterborn invaded the Endless Plains, the tribes of the cat people began a mass exodus in the only direction possible: west, toward Rhylance. The Juarag and their vicious sabercats had pillaged the eastern frontier of Rhylance for decades. Now they weren’t raiding anymore, they were conquering, fighting for their very existence. Eva didn’t think even the threat of Smelterborn could bridge the gap of malice between the two races. Still, it sounded better to Eva than waging war on two fronts at once, and she wondered why more of the nobility didn’t realize that. Caught up in her own thoughts on the matter, Eva almost missed the king’s next statement.

“The peace delegation will be led by my niece.”

Eva felt the color drain from her face and her stomach drop to the hard stone floor as all eyes turned to her.

Then again, maybe an alliance with the Juarag wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Chapter Two

“The Juarag only respect strength,” Adelar said. It was hours after the council ended and the two of them sat in the king’s private study. “I’ve pushed the nobles far enough with this proposal — if I suggested I go myself, they would lose their heads.”

Eva pouted. “Send Andor!”

Adelar shook his head. “The lord commander cannot declare war or negotiate peace treaties. We must abide by our laws.”

“Why not one of the nobles, then?” Eva asked, head still spinning. “Any of them would be a better representative for Rhylance than me!”

Adelar placed both hands on her shoulders and looked into her bright blue eyes with his own.

“Eva, listen to me,” he said. “The last thing most of the nobles want is peace with the Juarag — they’d rather see us burn to the ground if it means the Juarag would be slaughtered as well. A strong king knows when he must bend to prevent himself from breaking. Your grandfather taught me that.”

“But why me?”

Beckoning for Eva to follow, Adelar passed through the doors of his chambers into the empty court. On the wall behind the throne, a long banner hung, listing all of the rulers of Rhylance since the Sorondarans first landed on Altaris’ shore hundreds of years before. The king pointed to the bottom. Below Eva’s grandparents, Adelar, and Andor a new piece of fabric had been sewn in with her father’s name on it, replacing the spot where he’d been removed when exiled.

Below that…Eva saw her own name.

“You’re not just the last heir of our house,” Adelar said in a quiet voice from behind Eva. “When I die, you will become Queen of Rhylance and sit on the Winged Throne.”

Eva felt her mouth go dry and she tried to swallow hard, tried to breathe — tried to do anything but stare in shock.

“I…I don’t…”

It was beyond comprehending. The Queen of Rhylance? For more than three-quarters of her life, she’d just been a simple smith’s apprentice in the craftsman district of Gryfonesse. Becoming Windsworn had seemed far-fetched enough. Eva realized she was babbling but couldn’t think of an intelligent response, let alone speak it.

Adelar laughed. It didn’t make her feel any better.

“No one is ever really prepared to rule, but if you’re lucky and I’m careful, you won’t have to worry about it for a long time,” he said. “Still, it’s high time you started learning some of these things and experience is the best teacher. Do you understand now?”

Eva focused hard on keeping her dinner from spewing all over the family tapestry. Her heart pounded louder than a Juarag war drum. “What if I mess up?” she managed at last. “What if I say the wrong thing or I can’t persuade them or — ?”

“You won’t,” her uncle said in a voice that offered no room for argument. “I couldn’t ask for a more worthy successor. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become and… and I know your father was as well.”

A rush of emotion overwhelmed Eva and she looked at the ground. The loss of her father was still a gaping wound that refused to scar over. At the same time, she felt a rush of pride in herself and a determination to succeed.

“I’ll do my best.”

Hours later, Eva left the royal palace. Her head buzzed with all sorts of advice about controlling the tone of her voice, holding her body to convey strength without seeming haughty and a hundred other things a good diplomat should know. The rest of the courtyard was deserted save for Fury, her blood red gryphon. Her fellow riders were gone — no doubt they’d returned with Andor to the Windsworn’s mountain headquarters, the Gyr.

Eva reached Fury’s side and absentmindedly ran a hand down his head feathers and across the gryphon’s back to his short, copper-colored fur. Her brain spun in tired circles, trying to make sense of the day. Although it had only been a few days since she’d returned with Sigrid, Chel, and Ivan from her search for her father, Eva felt like a lifetime had passed. She swung into Fury’s saddle and strapped into her leg harness before clicking her tongue for the gryphon to take off.

In spite of the day’s stress, a smile spread across Eva’s face when Fury gathered his powerful feline hind legs, reared back and launched them into the air. Rising higher and higher above Gryfonesse, Eva let out a long sigh of happiness and reveled in the freedom of the open air.

Deep winter crept across Rhylance. In spite of the cold and bitter winds whipping at Eva, she still felt more at ease than she had in weeks. Looking over Fury’s side at the shrinking white marble buildings, markets stalls, and insect-sized people, she found it hard to believe she’d ever dreaded flying. Now, instead of a death sentence, it was her escape.

Soaring wide, away to the west of the Gyr, Eva and Fury passed over fallow farm fields and woodlands blanketed in a mantle of snow. Above the trees, life stood still. Gray clouds drifted through a forlorn winter sky, ushering silence for miles in every direction.

It wasn’t until the Gyr shrank in the distance to a speck the size of Eva’s thumb that she turned back. By now, her cheeks were nipped with the cold and her hands felt numb, even through her gloves and furs. As Fury soared back over the same quiet expanse they’d just crossed, Eva let her mind drift to a roaring fireplace inside the mountain, mulled cider and perhaps a long dip in the hot pools deep within the cavernous rock of the Gyr.

Yet the burdens of the recent days returned with each mile. Eva’s mind drifted from the threat of the upcoming Smelterborn, Seppo’s revelation and, most importantly, the task her uncle had given her.

The mountain drew closer, its crags and broken edges swathed in stubborn drifts of snow. Fury wheeled around to the southern side of the mountain, still climbing higher and higher. Eva squinted and huddled closer down against the gryphon’s body, a shiver running through her. When at last the Roost appeared and Fury glided onto the smooth rock floor of the cavern, Eva’s enjoyment of cold solitude was long gone.

After rubbing down and feeding Fury, Eva wandered through the halls. It was early evening, a time between training and dinner when most of the Gyr’s inhabitants would be in their rooms, relaxing, washing or studying before the evening meal. Eva made her way to the kitchen, grabbing a bowl of stew and a hunk of hearty dark bread before the dinner rush. Although she passed a number of familiar faces and said hello, she felt no desire to join the hustle and bustle of the Main Hall. Instead, she returned to her quarters and found them empty.

Sigrid, she guessed, would be down in the hot pools or making her way to dinner. Eva enjoyed her meal and the prolonged alone time without her bunkmate, not thinking much of anything as she spooned chunks of stew into her mouth. After cleaning the bowl with the heel of her bread she contemplated going to the library and curling up by the fire or heading to bed early. A knock interrupted the decision.

Opening the door, Eva found Tahl looking back at her. In the whirlwind of her return, they’d only had a few spare moments to spend together. Eva felt a sudden rush of guilt for not seeking him out when she’d returned.

“Oh,” she said, mind suddenly blank. When Eva deserted the Windsworn to go look for her father, she’d asked Tahl to come with her. He hadn’t.

And now, here they were, together in body but with all the miles Eva had traveled between their relationship.

He hadn’t changed a bit, Eva reflected. Still the same collected, self-assured Tahl, leaning against the door frame like he wasn’t meant to be anywhere else in the world.

“You’re a hard person to track down,” he said. A small, thin smile told Eva he wasn’t really joking.

“I don’t mean to be.” When he didn’t say anything, she tried again. “Do you want to come in?”

Tahl raised a bottle wrapped in cloth and jerked his head down the hall. “I’ve got a better idea. Grab a blanket.”

Eva knew what he had in mind: their secret spot on a ledge overlooking the city. Between the conversation with her uncle and the cold flight, Eva hardly wanted to leave the comfort of her room. But instead of insisting they stay in, Eva found herself grabbing a blanket.

Outside, they settled down on the cold stone. A shiver ran through Eva, as much from the feel of Tahl’s arms wrapping around her as the cold. She realized the last time they’d been there together was the night before she’d freed Chel from the dungeon and sneaked away with Sigrid and Ivan by cover of darkness.

“I missed this.” Now that they were there and the blanket started to warm her, Eva was glad she’d come.

“I missed you.”

Tahl leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

Eva felt another rush of warmth and twisted around to face him.

“You missed.”

They both snorted at the weak joke and kissed again.

For a long time after, neither spoke. They contented themselves staring down at the twinkling lights of Rhylance’s capital, Gryfonesse, below and sipping Tahl’s mulled cider.

“Things are going to change around here.”

Eva could only nod in agreement. Tahl had no idea and she didn’t feel like ruining the night with more talk about war and politics and responsibility. But as they sat there longer, the feeling gnawed away at Eva until she could ignore it no longer.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Hmm?”

She told Tahl about the council, the First Forge and, most importantly, her appointment to Princess of Rhylance.

“I’ve only got one question,” Tahl said when Eva finished. “Is the appropriate title your grace, your eminence or most exalted princess?”

Eva turned around and punched his shoulder. “Oh, ha-ha.” She pretended to pout, then added in a soft voice, “Your grace is preferable.”

Tahl laughed and pulled her tighter, sending Eva’s heart fluttering. “A thousand pardons, your grace,” he said. “I guess, I should have realized…should have known.”

“Known what?” Eva said. After the laughter faded, he’d grown aloof again. She turned around, pulling away from Tahl’s arms to get a read on his face.

“Well…” Eva could feel him shifting uncomfortably against her. And then it dawned on Eva and she realized she was an idiot.

“You know I love you, what does me being heir to the throne have to do with anything?”

“Because,” Tahl said, “you’re going to be queen someday and I’m just…just some farm boy who happened to become a gryphon rider and happened to luck out at being good at fighting and flying.”

Eva snorted. Everyone in the Gyr knew Tahl was one of the most skilled Windsworn in years — maybe since Aleron, her father. By comparison, Eva’s skills as a rider made her look like a duck trying to pass as an eagle.

“Certainly the almighty Tahl, the golden boy of the Gyr isn’t being self-conscious right now, is he?” she asked, laughing.

“I’m serious!” Tahl gave her a soft, exasperated shove. “Blood matters with these things. And mine’s about as common as it comes!”

Eva cupped his face in her hands and pulled him in for a long kiss. “That doesn’t matter to me,” she whispered when they parted. She drew in a quick breath to stop her head from spinning.

“Marry me.”

The spinning stopped.

Eva stared. She searched for something, anything, but her mind wouldn’t form the words. Instead, she kissed Tahl again.

“Is that a yes?” Tahl asked, grinning when they pulled apart.

“No,” Eva said. “Because you haven’t asked me yet!”

“Evelyn, Princess of Rhylance and heir to the Winged Throne, will you marry me, your grace?”

Eva didn’t think about armies of Smelterborn and Juarag warriors. She didn’t think about being the princess. She didn’t think about anything but one word.

“Yes! YES!”

Chapter Three

“Just relax,” Tahl said for the hundredth time.

“I. Am. Relaxed,” Eva replied through gritted teeth.

Behind her, Sigrid snorted. “You two are like a couple of old married folks, snapping at each other and mumbling under your breath.”

Eva flinched but otherwise ignored the jibe. She and Tahl had agreed to keep the news of their engagement between the two of them for the time being until they at least had a moment to break the news to her uncles. Although she knew Sigrid couldn’t possibly have any idea, the errant comment struck close to home. Eva tried to ignore the pinching in her stomach and focused on the figures approaching from the Juarag camp off in the distance.

This was their fourth stop and the fourth tribe she’d reached out to for peace talks. After almost a week of flying through the snow and camping in the cold, Eva had no idea what they had to show for it. Winter had left the Juarag ill-prepared to face the bitter western chinooks blowing down from the Windswept mountains on their way across the Endless Plains.

Each camp looked the same: a scattering of hide tents cased in ice, leaning from the drifts piled against their poles. The people looked worse: half-starved, haggard and desperate. The sabercats they saw were as lean as their riders. More than once, Eva thought the hungry beasts would attack the gryphons, desperate as they looked for fresh meat. Half-eaten carcasses proved they had no aversion to eating their own kind given the chance.

The awful weather impeded their progress more than anticipated. Most of the tribes were within a couple day’s flight of one another at most, but each group answered to a separate chieftain. No one could give her a count before she left Rhylance but Eva guessed there were close to a dozen different warchiefs in all. The lack of central leadership made her diplomatic mission even more prolonged and stressful.

So far, two had agreed to King Adelar’s terms while another remained undecided. The most recent, a giant of a woman riding a black and gray-streaked sabercat, would accept peace if Rhylance would feed them for the winter followed by an annual tribute of gold and weapons. Wide-eyed, Eva told the warchief she would have to speak with the king before she could make any such arrangement. She had no idea what the woman would have done had Eva told the Juarag no outright.

Rumor had it that the chieftain they were meeting with today, however, had influence over the entire council of warchiefs. Chel said his name was Arapheem. His tribe was the largest of the Juarag — the most warriors and the most sabercats. Chel believed if they could convince Arapheem to join their cause, the reluctant tribes would fall in line as well.

The Juarag’s reaction to Chel was cool at best. Marked as an outcast — which they called Juarag-Vo — some openly spat on the ground at the sight of her, even if they begrudgingly showed her respect due to her place among the gryphon riders. One warchief had offered to provide Eva with a new translator, explaining in broken Westernese that Chel was unfit for such a role. Certainly, aside from knowing the language, Chel provided them with no diplomatic advantages.

Eva suppressed a shiver as a gust of wind rose up, swirling snow around them. Another gust cleared the flurries between her party and the Juarag. Arapheem looked the part of a mighty Juarag warchief. His dark brown sabercat’s muscles bulged against its scarred hide. The man wore a thick buffalo robe and half the hair on his head was shaved away. Orange war paint covered his face in sharp contrast to his earthy skin. Mounted warriors on full-grown sabercats flanked their chieftain, fully armed and scowling. Eva shivered again when she spotted a pair of shamans trailing behind the party — a man and a woman scarred and tattooed with runes. The white paint daubed on their heads made them look like skulls.

Behind her, Ivan cursed as the pair drew near. She knew the Scrawls had no love for the Juarag shamans — users of rune magic who, it was rumored, dabbled in blood magics and other dark sorcery. Whereas the Scrawls retained some of the knowledge of the ancient Palantines after the collapse of their civilization, the Juarag’s magic hearkened back to older, darker, and wilder eras.

To show their peaceful intent, Eva insisted the gryphons remain a few dozen paces behind them, close enough to aid them if the Juarag proved treacherous but far enough away not to be construed as a threat. Arapheem, on the other hand, had no such reservations. His sabercat sauntered closer until its snarling, battered muzzle and yellowed, dagger-length teeth were within an arm’s reach of Eva’s face. She’d been this close to a sabercat before — it’d done it’s best to eat her and she had no desire to repeat the experience. Although she shook in her boots, Eva forced her fears into the hard, frozen ground and held her place, fists clenched.

Avoiding the menacing feline eyes of the sabercat, Eva looked up at Arapheem. A long moment passed before his shoulders lifted in a small shrug and he jumped off his mount. Chel took her place at Eva’s side as the warchief drew even with them and held his hand out in front of him, palm down in the traditional greeting.

Eva did the same, holding her hand, even with Arapheem’s. Satisfied, the warchief waved his sabercat away. With a reluctant snarl, the enormous feline took a few steps and returned to the group of warriors and shamans standing watch a few paces from their leader.

“Greetings, Arapheem, mighty chief of the Juarag,” Eva said in a loud, clear voice. Her legs might’ve been quaking but she forced herself to sound calm and collected.

Chel started to repeat the message in the Juarag tongue until the warchief halted her with his hand. “There is no need. Let us speak in your tongue, Eva-lyn Bloodrider.”

Bloodrider. She didn’t know how the moniker had spread so swiftly among the Juarag but that was what they called her, the rider of the blood-colored gryphon. Eva did her best to hide her surprise at the man’s near perfect use of her own language. The warchief seemed to notice regardless. “We are not all the mindless savages you would paint us out to be.”

“I apologize for my ignorance,” Eva said. “You honor me with the use of our words — perhaps one day, I will speak your tongue as well as you do mine.”

Arapheem gave a thin smile. “Perhaps one day, all sky people will speak our tongue, eh?”

The threat was hard to miss. Eva heard grumbling behind her, and guessed someone — Sigrid, most likely — had reached for their weapon. Across from her, the Juarag’s hands drifted to their own clubs, spears, and swords.

“Perhaps, but today we are here to discuss peace, not war,” Eva said. She glanced backward and shot a glare at Sigrid who froze halfway through drawing her ax. “Neither of our languages will be spoken if the Smelterborn kill us all.”

“The iron giants.” Arapheem spat on the frozen earth at his feet. “They are a curse upon this land.”

“They must be stopped,” Eva agreed. “In this, we have a common cause.”

“They must be stopped,” Arapheem nodded, “but that does not mean the sky people are not our enemies too.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Eva said, hoping the sudden anxiety she felt at the chieftain’s tone wasn’t apparent in her voice. “The Juarag are trapped between the hammer and the anvil. What does it accomplish to fight two wars at once?”

“Do you not think us up to the task?” The warchief swept a hand behind him at his warriors, who straightened a little on the backs of their sabercats, poking out their chests and raising their chins “Perhaps we should break the hammer now? What do you say to that, Bloodrider? The Smelterborn might not be a worry to us if we sat inside your stone walls.

“I do not doubt the strength of the Juarag,” Eva said. “But you face not only Rhylance but Pandion, Maizoro and the Scrawls as well. Even if you were to defeat our combined armies, the Smelterborn would still be waiting and who would be left to fight them? Is Altaris not big enough for all of us to live in peace once the iron giants are gone?”

Arapheem’s eyes narrowed. “You tell me, Bloodrider. It was your people who came over the western mountains in the days of my grandfathers and drove us east. Any blood we have shed since was only to reclaim what was rightfully ours.”

Eva knew she was flying in rough skies. Arapheem was testing her. With the right words, she could still win him over. Say something wrong and there would be blood then and there. It all hinged on what she chose to say next.

“The raiding of our outposts and the driving of your people away from the foothills are both in the past,” Eva said, trying to put some stone in her voice. “We can argue about who has killed who the most or we can work together to defeat the Smelterborn. The golems do not care if it is winter or summer, how cold it is or how deep the snow falls. They will keep coming. Together, we can defeat them.”

“These are lies,” one of the shamans growled from beside his war cat. “The sky people think they can trick us. They —”

Arapheem held up a hand and the other man fell silent.

“What would it benefit us to trick you?” Eva said. “If we wanted to see the Juarag destroyed, we would leave you to the weather and the Smelterborn.”

“What is this way of defeating the iron giants?” Arapheem asked. “How is it done?”

Eva hesitated. Had she succeeded or was this still a test?

“My uncle, King Adelar of Rhylance, asks you to join us at council, in three week’s time. He would also ask that you use your influence among the other Juarag tribes to convince them to do the same. I have spoken with some and not all understand reason.”

“Hmm,” Arapheem looked past Eva, up at the peaks of the Windswepts in the distance. “How will I assure the other chieftains this is not a trap?”

“We will meet at Eagle’s Point,” Eva said, pointing to a cluster of mountains shooting off from the main body of the Windswepts. “In the ruins, on neutral ground. To show his good faith, the king has agreed to send blankets and additional supplies to any tribe who would have them.”

“Your uncle is a desperate man,” Arapheem said, “to give so much without any guarantee in return.”

“The king is a trusting man,” Eva said. “And in the face of complete destruction, what other course is there to take?”

“You have my word the Earthfang tribe will honor this agreement,” Arapheem said. “But I cannot speak for the other warchiefs until a council is held.”

Eva nodded. “I understand. We will return in two week’s time for their answer. Will that allow you to get word to them?”

“It will be done,” Arapheem said. He stretched out his hand and he and Eva grasped forearms. She fought to keep her hand clenched. The man’s grip made her arm and fingers tingle from the pressure. “I am honored by your visit, Bloodrider. I will do what I can to make this alliance so.”

Eva fought back the urge to sigh, laugh or cry all at once. Instead, she gave a curt nod, releasing her grip first, as was polite. “We will meet soon.”

Walking away, Eva felt like her legs were cherry-red metal bars, ready to buckle at any moment. Back at their gryphons, Sigrid slapped her on the back, and Ivan and Chel offered their congratulations.

“Looks like you were cut out for this diplomatic business after all,” Tahl said, giving her a one-armed hug.

Eva smiled. A small measure of relief settling over her as she climbed into Fury’s saddle. Deep down, however, she knew the struggle had only begun.

Chapter Four

The wind howled around the rocks of Eagle’s Point, driving biting snow at Eva’s cheeks and nose, the only areas not protected by thick furs. The Point, which appeared to have been a lookout post of some sorts in ages past, had little to offer in way of protection. The remaining rings of broken stones poked through the drifts like cracked, rotted teeth.

“The Scrawls believe this was once a site of power, used to observe the movement of the stars, sun, and moon throughout the seasons.” Ivan’s voice sounded muffled behind a thick scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face.

“I don’t give a flying feather about this hole, even if the sky-cursed First Forge is buried beneath all this snow,” Sigrid snapped. Ice crusted her eyelids and the tips of her spiky dark hair protruding from her hood. “And I’m tired of all this talking, especially when I have to freeze my ass off to listen to it. Let’s fight the Smelterborn already and stop babbling on about it!”

The gryphons were as miserable and irritated as Sigrid, snapping at one another beneath a coat of sleet frozen to their fur. Eva had to agree. They’d counseled and debated long enough. She hoped the Juarag were miserable enough to keep the negotiations short — and agreeable.

Regardless of the foul weather, the two parties boasted an array of people the likes of which Eagle’s Point had probably never seen. In addition to the lord commander and dozens of Windsworn, King Adelar attended with his own wing of gryphon riders pledged to his defense.

Tahl numbered among them, chosen by the king to be among his honor guard for the occasion. Eva saw him now, standing across the large flat space of rock, hooded cloak drawn over his head, hands on the hilt of his sword, scanning for danger. In spite of the added worry his position caused her, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride watching him among the other elite riders. Still, she would have preferred him by her side, if nothing else, to provide some added warmth.

The high mountain passes from Rhylance were buried in deep snow, meaning all attendees from the western side of the Windswepts had to be flown in. In addition to the twenty or so Sorondarans, there were also a half-dozen Scrawl Elders who had been fit enough to make the freezing journey over the mountains to represent their peoples.

A handful of delegates from Pandion and Maizoro came as well. Each shivered in their furs and robes, unused to the biting cold of the mountains compared to the temperate coast and northlands from which they hailed. Eva couldn’t imagine a place more different from the mild coasts and sun-drenched farmlands than the bleak rock of Eagle’s Point.

Although Eva felt half-frozen herself, she was glad she’d even been able to attend. Since openly naming her as the heir, both Adelar and Andor had watched — or had someone watch— Eva’s every step. She knew it was for her protection but suspected it was so she didn’t attempt to run off on another wild journey, too. She’d begged them to allow her to come to Eagle’s Point, arguing that she’d orchestrated the meeting in the first place and deserved to see how it played out.

Her uncles relented, but only on the condition that a personal guard accompanied her. The group was comprised of two members of the King’s Wing — not Tahl, unfortunately — two members of the Lord Commander’s Wing — of which Sigrid was one, fortunately — and a handful of others, chosen by Eva. Which of course meant Ivan, Chel, and Wynn. When Wynn asked, Eva almost told her no, until she realized she was treating the younger girl the same way her two uncles treated her.

Eva hid a smile, watching Wynn stare wide-eyed around the gathering. A horn pealed from the edge of the rock circle. In the swirling snow, Eva had a hard time making out the source. She knew what the sound meant though: the Juarag had arrived.

Hands tightened on weapons and faces grew tense. A few minutes later, Eva saw the dark, hulking shapes of sabercats padding across the snow. The silence of their approach made it all the more unsettling. There were fifty or so in all, their lithe bodies painted for war. The wet snowfall caused the beasts’ markings to trickle down their sides, dripping reds, blues, purples, oranges and green into the snow, like a bleeding rainbow. A man out front — Arapheem, Eva guessed by the look of his war cat — called a halt a bow shot from the western delegates.

As the Juarag crested the hill on foot, Eva started forward, ignoring the protests of her guard who followed close behind. The Juarag riders dismounted and left their snarling sabercats on the edge of the Point. Even with the distance between the cats and the gryphons watching from the crags and rock of the cliff face behind her, Eva could almost feel the mutual hatred between the two magnificent animal breeds. Humans aside, she doubted it would take much to start a fight between the gryphons and sabercats.

“Hail Arapheem, mighty chieftain of the Juarag,” King Adelar said when the party drew close enough to hear his words over the moaning winds. Eva took a place beside her uncles and the Scrawl Elders.

“It is good weather to talk about the ending of days,” Arapheem said, glancing up at the swollen, snow-filled skies and grinning. When he looked back at them, the warchief held out his hand to Eva in the same gesture as the first time they’d met. Without bothering to check for permission from the king, Eva stepped forward and returned the greeting.

“I have brought the Juarag chiefs as you asked, Bloodrider,” Arapheem said to her. “Now tell us how we may defeat the Smelterborn.”

This time, Eva deffered. “My uncle, King Adelar of Rhylance, will tell you our plan for battle.”

Adelar began a long talk about the importance of uniting against the Smelterborn. As he spoke, Eva studied the other Juarag chiefs. None of the women accompanying Arapheem looked especially glad to be there. Most wore unconcealed scowls while they listened to Arapheem confer with the king. Some studied the rest of the delegation and the gryphons, no doubt sizing up their opponents should the gathering turn into a fight. One man, an older warrior with hair black as coal and a milky-white left eye, stared at Eva. His gaze fell on her as cold and devoid of life as the snow-drenched mountains around them.

He reminded Eva of Uthred, the second-in-command of the Windsworn and her uncle Andor’s right-hand man. When Eva had first come to the Gyr to begin her training, he’d ordered Sigrid — who, at the time, harbored a deep resentment for Eva — to beat her into a pulp in the sparring circle. For most of her first year, Eva thought Uthred was trying to kill her. Instead, in his own harsh way, he had tempered her resolve, and made Eva earn everything she got, even as the rider of the fabled red gryphon.

In the years since, Eva developed a begrudging respect for the hard, gray warrior. She sensed the black-haired Juarag chief across from her was just as hard, but without any of the moral limitation or sense of honor that reined in Uthred. As Arapheem and the king spoke in earnest about how an alliance might work and how a grand attack on the Smelterborn could be accomplished, Eva forced herself to meet the man’s good eye.

“I cannot just give you the eastern frontier,” Adelar said after a lengthy exchange. “I’m aware that it was once Juarag lands, but that was hundreds of years ago. My people have built settlements there —”

“Juarag are there now,” Arapheem said. “Settlements are gone. All your people fled over the mountains. That is where they should stay.”

As apparent as a shift in the wind, Eva felt the negotiations take a turn for the worse.

“Are you threatening me?”

Arapheem let the king’s word blow away before he shrugged. “Juarag chieftains do not threaten. We only promise.”

Several members of the western delegation muttered in discontent. Their discontent seemed to fuel the king’s resolve even further. Likewise, the Juarag chiefs behind Arapheem toyed with their weapons.

“Need I remind you that your people are at our mercy?” Adelar said, voice rising and hardening. “The Smelterborn will crush you against the Windswepts if you choose to fight us both. There will be no Juarag left to claim the frontier.”

“Then maybe we will come for you, instead,” Arapheem said. “Your mountains and snow will not be enough to stop us sky-king.”

“Stop!”

Eva jumped between her uncle and Arapheem. “The Smelterborn are who we must fight, not one another! If we do not work together, only golems will live on the frontier.”

For a long moment, both her uncle and Arapheem stared at Eva, neither speaking. The wind howled a forlorn note through the mountains. Everyone hung on what would be said next.

A black flash passed the corner of Eva’s eye, close enough for her to feel the whisk of the cold metal before the large iron javelin struck the frost-bitten stones and skittered away. A moment later, several more javelins filled the air, striking Juarag and westerner alike.

“Treachery!” Arapheem shouted, drawing his sword.

The two parties might have slaughtered one another if Eva hadn’t spotted the dark shapes darting between the rocks off the edge of the Point.

“No!” she said, pointing. “Smelterborn!”

Swift, dark, metal forms leaped from cover, hefting more javelins. Shouts of alarm erupted from both sides. Eva spun and found Smelterborn surrounding them on all sides. These were a new make she’d never see before — smaller and leaner like the scout golems, but heavily armed like their bigger, slower counterparts.

“Protect the king and the princess!”

Tahl and both guard parties rushed to shield Eva and the king but Eva pushed away.

“They need me!” she said, drawing her father’s sword. The runes on the blade flashed pale blue in the gray light of the day.

Before anyone could stop her, Eva joined the fray. The complete chaos of her first pitched battle nearly stopped her in her tracks. There appeared to be only twenty to thirty of the smoke-colored Smelterborn, but each fought with the ferocity of ten men. Gryphons screamed and dropped like arrows from the sky. Juarag raiders, Sorondaran knights, Windsworn and Scrawl rune mages fell like trees beneath an iron avalanche

“Aim for the eyes!” Eva shouted as a burst of flame shot from the hands of nearby Scrawl. She knew their magic might be the only thing to turn the tide. “Aim for the eyes — it’s the only way to bring them down!”

In the chaos, she wasn’t sure anyone heard her. To her left, a man screamed as he flew through the air before smashing into two of his fellow soldiers. Eva pushed her way forward, ignoring her friends' shouts for her to stop. A Smelterborn loomed out of the blizzard in front of her.

Pushing aside her terror, Eva summoned her training. The Smelterborn swung at her with a sword the size of a lance. Eva raised her weapon and braced to parry the blow. Aleron’s rune-inscribed blade cut through the golem’s weapon. The Smelterborn registered no surprise or shock at having his sword cut in two. Instead, it tossed the hilt aside and raised its shield in both hands, then charged.

Eva dove to the side and shifted the grip on her sword. She swung hard sideways and sparks filled the air as the blade scored the iron face of the shield. Pivoting with the momentum of her swing, Eva severed the golem’s arm at its elbow. But the Smelterborn registered no pain. With its remaining hand, it hefted its shield overhead in a crushing blow.

Eva stumbled backward and lost her footing. She looked up just as the Smelterborn’s shield swung toward her. She gritted her teeth. So this was how it would end.

At the last moment, a figure collided with the falling shield, forcing the edge inches to the right of Eva’s head. Tahl rebounded off the shield and hit the ground hard. Scrambling, Eva swung low and severed the golem’s leg. The Smelterborn toppled over backward. Before it could recover, Eva buried her blade in its armored chest.

An all-too-familiar bone-chilling wail split the air and a dark shape shot out of the ruined helmet, like a streak of black tar in the snow-filled sky. Eva ran to Tahl’s side as he stood, using his shield to steady himself. The tumult of the battle around them faded into the back of Eva’s mind as she searched him for any serious wounds. A relieved sob tore from her chest upon finding him okay.

“Gonna be…sore tomorrow,” he grunted.

“I had it handled,” Eva said and they shared a grim laugh.

Pushing her soaked hair out of her face, Eva saw about two-thirds of the Smelterborn were down, although the humans’ superior numbers wore thin. Not far off, Sigrid, Iva, Wynn, and Chel toppled another Smelterborn after a blast of Ivan’s ice kenning struck it in the head. When they joined Eva and Tahl, the Scrawl bent over, hands on his knees like he’d just ran up the mountainside.

“Everyone alright?” Eva asked them.

“No thanks to you,” Sigrid said, hefting her notched ax. She grinned. “I’m supposed to be the one who rushes into a fight without thinking it through.”

Chel held a broken spear in her hand and nodded. Wynn only stared, face as pale as the snow.

“Wynn,” Eva said, seized by concern. “Are you okay?”

Before she could answer, Ivan, bent over again and spewed his breakfast at their feet.

“Sorry,” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The westerners and the Juarag fought side by side as a wall of weapons and shields, herding the remaining golems toward the cliffs. Shouting and screaming, the unlikely allies drove the band of golems off the edge. Only two Smelterborn remained. Both charged the king and Arapheem. Once again, Eva charged forward, leaving her friends to follow.

The first golem fell beneath a blast of fire from a Scrawl kenning. The last, instead of retreating from the lost battle, went berserk. The Smelterborn hit the first wave of knights, armor smashing into armor as it abandoned its weapon, tossing the men and women aside with both hands. Nearby Juarag sprinted to the defense of their war leader and were crushed beneath the golem’s iron fists.

A shot of ice hit the Smelterborn in the shoulder sending it spinning. Faster than Eva could blink, the golem recovered as if the defeat of its fellow somehow added to its strength and speed. Several kennings hit the golem all at once, a storm of ice, fire, wind, and earth. The Smelterborn absorbed each blow, in turn, wading through the rune magic. More soldiers died as they crossed in front of its path.

Although nothing could stop it, the golem’s progress slowed just enough. Eva struck. Her overhead slash cut deep, leaving a gaping line of heated metal curling back on itself. Dropping to its knees, the golem continued to crawl forward and a horrifying, guttural chant filled the air.

Eva screamed and swung down again with all of her might. A blast of ice struck the Smelterborn’s helmet. It didn’t stop crawling. Summoning the last of her strength, Eva raised her sword in both hands and drove it through the back of the golem’s head. The dark spirit trapped within burst free, knocking everyone within an arm’s length of the Smelterborn to the ground. The now-empty suit of armor gave a last twitch and lay still.

“Nothing would stop it,” Arapheem said in a hushed voice. “When we killed the others, it only grew stronger.”

Adelar could only stare at the smoking hole in the golem’s helm.

The two leaders tore their eyes from the horrific sight and grasped hands. All around them, Juarag and westerner alike stood in shock and exhaustion, any thought of battle amongst themselves forgotten.

“We will fight this evil together,” Arapheem said.

King Adelar nodded. “Together.”

Chapter Five

In the coming weeks, Eva’s remaining hopes of resuming a normal, quiet routine were squashed. After the council at Eagle’s Point, both the Gyr and Gryfonesse transformed into a night and day war machine. Riders flew constantly from the mountains, scouting the advancing Smelterborn horde or ferrying supplies and men over the mountain passes of the Windswepts whenever the snows allowed. Builders worked tirelessly to assemble fortifications and choke points in the high passes in anticipation of the arrival of the golems.

The winter proved to be a double-edged sword. While it slowed the Smelterborn and allowed more time for preparation, the defenders constantly battled the snow and cold, especially in the heart of the Windswepts. But the deep of winter passed, and hints of spring appeared in the lowlands. Instead of providing comfort, however, the tiny buds on trees and clumps of grass poking through the rotting snow reminded Eva that they were running out of time.

A hodgepodge of carts and sleds fought through the sopping mud, melting drifts and dirty spring runoff to climb the western side of the mountains where assembly on the fortifications continued. From a distance, the long lines of workers stretched up the foothills and into the passes like trails of ants.

For as many Sorondarans and other westerners that went east, hundreds of Juarag refugees came west. After tense negotiations with the nobles, the king and council placed the nomads in the fields to the south of the capital, saving the farmlands and orchards to the north for their crops, pastures, and orchards. Their arrivals were the old and very young, along with whoever among the men and women were not warriors. Arapheem had sworn no sabercats or raiders would be sent over the passes into Rhylance. Although he kept his word, whenever Eva visited Gryfonesse the city was tense, the citizens muttering about the “savages” at their gates. Eva found it borderline ridiculous that they were more worried about the half-starved Juarag refugees than the army of Smelterborn drawing closer with each passing hour.

In the hustle and bustle, Eva rarely saw any of her friends. Ivan worked on the front lines, using his rune magic to assist in building the mountain fortifications. Sigrid and Tahl stayed busy commanding wings of scouts on reconnaissance missions. As a member of the king’s wing, Eva saw Tahl more than she would have otherwise, but it was never enough. She savored each moment they stole away together — mostly late at night when no one demanded their time elsewhere.

They still hadn’t told anyone about their engagement. Whenever Eva thought she had a moment with Adelar, something always came up demanding the king’s attention. She worried Tahl would be angry but they saw one another so little that neither wanted to waste time on anything but the moment they shared.

Chel served as an ambassador between the Juarag refugees and the king’s council. She received little appreciation from either side. To the Juarag, Chel was an outcast, unclean and possessed by bad spirits. To Rhylance’s nobles, she was no different than all the other warriors who had raided the frontier for years.

With as much time as Eva spent in Gryfonesse, she thought at least Soot and Seppo would have been around to visit. But the smith and golem were as busy as everyone else. The Scrawls continued to study the Dark Wonder and interview Seppo to glean every bit of information possible about the First Forge. The rest of the time, Soot and Seppo worked long hours in the forge, preparing tools and weapons for the coming war. As back-breaking and exhaustive as the labor was, Eva would have given anything to join them, to pretend just for a few hours she was just Eva, the smith’s assistant.

Instead, she was Princess Evelyn, rider of the red gryphon and heir to the throne of Rhylance. She soon found the work behind the crown was much less glamorous than the title itself. For the most part, Eva sat in council after council as various leaders from across western Altaris plotted the progress of the Smelterborn and strategized the most probable routes they would take to cross the mountains.

The Windswepts stretched from the border of Maizoro in the north all the way to the land of the Scrawls in the south. Blocking all of the westward passes was impossible. Therefore, the plan was to bottleneck the Smelterborn into a handful of locations where their numbers and inhuman strength would count for less. It seemed like a good plan, but Eva worried what would happen if the Smelterborn simply chose another route.

Each day, additional fighting forces arrived from all over Altaris. Pandion — a coastal country inhabited by Sorondaran descendants — sent hundreds of soldiers and supplies through the milder Curtain Mountains to the west of Rhylance which were already clear of snow.

Scores of Scrawls, their carts, and beasts of burden painted with as many runes as their riders, poured in from the south. From the north, the Maizorans came with heavy wagons carrying corn, squash, beans and more — produce from a softer land that never felt the bite of winter cold. Eva had never seen so many different people from different places, not even during their brief stay in the Mother of Cities during its festival to the Ancestors.

As busy as her friends and loved ones were, Eva’s days were filled with the most mundane tasks she could imagine. Instead of performing her regular Windsworn duties, such as flying on patrol, Eva was grounded in Gryfonesse attending to more princess-like endeavors. None of them offered any excitement or physical labor and made Eva want to scream and pull her hair out.

She lived for the few evening flights she was allowed with Fury and the rare duties that took her out of the citadel grounds into the rest of the city or surrounding countryside. Likewise, she longed for the days when she could fly patrol with Fury and her fellow riders or spend the night curled up with either a book or Tahl by the fires inside the Gyr’s library.

And so it continued for weeks on end, as the last vestiges of winter disappeared and spring burst forth in all its glory. Even though war loomed life still went on: Rich, dark rows of earth lined the fields, a hundred different colors of flowering clover blanketed the pastures and the trees drooped, heavy with pregnant blossoms.

In spite of the stress of war and frustration of being a member of the royal family, Eva couldn’t help but enjoy a day outside in the beautiful spring weather, overseeing another load of supplies being transported to the Juarag camp. Fury, Eva, and Chel sat on a small rise, watching the last wagons roll down the graveled road. Fury’s copper feathers glistened in the burgeoning sun as the gryphon clawed at the soft earth with his foretalons, eager to be back in the sky. For a moment, Eva could almost convince herself she was just out on a noonday flight with Chel.

Despite everything they’d gone through to reach the valley, the Juarag refugees fared well over the winter. The nobles still grumbled about feeding “the savages” but thanks to Rhylance’s allies, the storehouses had never been more full. A host of immortal golem’s bent on total destruction might have been approaching, but at least there was plenty for everyone to eat.

Looking at each tribe’s group of skin tents and cook fires, Eva reflected on how clean and organized the camps of the “savages” were. As far as she knew, there hadn’t been any real disorder between the Rhylance teamsters and the Juarag, either. The nomads kept to themselves and seemed content to be left to themselves as much as possible.

Eva supposed it couldn’t hurt that their hot-headed warriors were all far away in the mountains, preparing for battle. If they all somehow made it through the war, Eva wondered how smooth the Juarag’s exodus from Rhylance would be when their chieftains and raiders reunited with their tribes.

She was about to mount Fury and leave when a ring of wagons on the edge of the Juarag camp caught her eye. They all featured small cabins built on top of their frames and the sound of tambourines and bells floated up from their midst. At the sound of the strange, wild music, a smile spread across Eva’s face.

“Come on,” she said, waving to Chel. “I think I know who that is!”

They hopped on Fury’s back and made the short flight down the hill to the riverside camp. Landing, Eva saw several Juarag rush for their tents at the site of a gryphon so close, but the owners of the wagons waved and called out greetings. Stepping away from Fury, Eva and Chel met a middle-aged woman wearing large hoop earrings and her hair pulled back in a bright scarf.

“It is you!” Eva shouted, hugging the woman. “I am glad you and your people made it, Belka.”

The woman smiled, bangles jingling on her wrists as she pulled out of the hug. “It is all thanks to you, Eva. We arrived just ahead of you — I confess I did not hope to see you alive again. Tell me, were you successful in your search?”

Both Eva and Chel grew a little somber. They’d met Belka on the Endless while searching for Chel’s tribe and Eva’s father. Although they’d eventually found both, none of those loved ones escaped the Smelterborn’s advance alive.

“We did,” Eva said, feeling her eyes well with tears and an all-too-familiar lump build in her throat. “Thank you, again, for your help. Without the supplies you gave us, I don’t think we could have finished our journey.”

Belka’s eyes searched them and seemed to recognize their still-fresh hurt. She nodded. “Think nothing of it. I do not know where my people would be without you.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Eva asked. “Do you need anything — food, blankets? I can find you lodging in the city if you want.”

Belka laughed. “We are more at home here, with the Juarag, than inside your city. You have done plenty. Do not worry about us.”

An overwhelming happiness seized Eva and she hugged Belka once more, grateful for a small bit of joy amidst the frantic war preparation. The feeling was short-lived.

The shadow of a gryphon passed overhead, the whoosh of wings moment later heralding its landing. Eva turned and her heart sank at the grave expression on the rider’s face. She recognized the woman, a member of the king’s wing named Tess.

“Princess Evelyn, your are wanted at the palace immediately.”

“What’s wrong, Tess?” Eva asked.

The rider looked over Eva’s shoulder at Belka and her people but Eva nodded, assuring her it was safe to continue.

“The Smelterborn, your highness,” Tess said. “They’ve…moved faster than anticipated.”

Eva swallowed and the warmth she felt from reuniting with Belka drained from her. “How close are they?”

“We’ve got ten days if we’re lucky.”

Chapter Six

“Ten days?” Adelar said. “That’s over a month ahead of when we expected them. How in the sky is that even possible?”

Andor shook his head. “I can’t explain it,” he said in a flat voice. “But I flew out and saw for myself yesterday. It’s like something is spurring them on, they’re traveling at almost twice their old pace now, even through the thick country in the foothills.”

The lord commander tossed a bundle of parchments on the table and continued speaking while the king looked over the reports. “Their numbers are close to a thousand or so, including their scouts and those smoky looking ones that attacked us at Eagle’s Point. The men have taken to calling them Shadowstalkers.

Oh good, Eva thought, let’s make them sound even more terrifying than they already are. She walked around the table to read the reports over Adelar’s shoulder but before she could get close enough the king threw them on the table, exasperated.

“We need more time!”

“What —” Eva started.

“I think we can buy a little,” Andor assured the king, ignoring Eva. “There’s quite a few piles of loose rock from fortifying the passes — Uthred had an idea. We can send a few wings at a time to drop them on the front lines of the Smelterborn. It might slow their advance. Arapheem and his raiders will take a few shots at them as well.”

“I —”

“And they’re heading toward the Talon?” Adelar asked.

Andor nodded. “We caught a break there, that’s the one thing going according to plan. Even with the Smelterborn’s increased speed, we should still be ready. General Brachus has overseen the construction all winter and assures me the fortifications will hold.”

Before Eva could speak further, Adelar gestured across the war table. In addition to a map, small carved pieces marked the current positions of their armies and the armies of their allies. “That would give us enough time to get the last companies from Pandion and the Scrawls in place.”

Eva frowned and glared at her two uncles who carried on their conversation as if she’d melted into the wall. The king and lord commander might preach the importance of her learning things, but whenever the time for decisions came, it was like she didn’t exist.

She sat in a chair while Adelar and Andor continued to outline their strategies, thinking how much more use she would have been at the Gyr. As before, neither of them spared her a moment’s notice. When Andor left at last to begin mustering the Windsworn, Adelar finally turned his attention to Eva.

“You’ll be in charge of Gryfonesse while I’m gone.”

Eva felt her mouth go dry and stomach churn at the thought. The feelings were replaced by a burning anger when she realized her uncle meant to leave her behind.

“While you’re gone where?”

“The Talon,” Adelar said, gesturing to the map. “I must have a presence among the soldiers.”

Eva jumped out of the chair and clenched her shaking hands into fists. “I will not be left behind while my friends and family go off to war!”

The king sighed and ran a hand through his short graying hair. “Eva…”

“No!” Eva shouted. “My place is with the rest of the Windsworn — with you and Andor. I’m tired of sitting around counting coins and whatever other busy work you think up for me.”

“Eva, as the crown princess, you can’t spend your days solely as a Windsworn rider,” Adelar said. She opened her mouth to yell again but he cut her off with a raised hand. “You’ve got to learn how to rule a kingdom.”

“I’ve got years to do that!”

A strange expression crossed Adelar’s face. “I thought the same thing when I was your age,” he said in a quiet voice. “And I hated it as much as you do now. While my brothers went off on wild adventures I stayed here and learned about diplomacy and trade.”

“There wasn’t an army of Smelterborn coming to kill everyone and burn everything down to the ground then,” Eva pointed out.

Adelar’s usually stern face parted in a wry smile. “No, which is why it’s even more important that you stay safe. We took too many chances at Eagle’s Point. That can’t happen again.”

Eva’s anger and frustration fell to a simmer against her uncle’s cold logic. But the thought of her friends — and last remaining family — risking their lives while she stayed behind twisted her insides into knots.

As if sensing her divided loyalties, Adelar placed both hands on his niece’s shoulders. “If we lose the Talon, the city and the Gyr are our last defense. You’ll get more than your fill of fighting then.”

Eva gave a slow, reluctant nod, swallowing hard to fight down the tears. She tried not to think of Tahl, Sigrid, Ivan, Wynn, Andor and everyone else against the might of the Smelterborn.

“I… I’d like to spend a day or two at the Gyr and…”

She’d meant to finish with “say goodbye,” but the thought of what that might mean was unbearable, especially with her father’s death still fresh in her mind and heavy on her heart.

“I understand,” Adelar said, his face softening. “What about this: the Talon is less than two day’s flight away. Why don’t you join us on our flight out? You can tour the defenses with me and attend the war council. How does that sound?”

Eva forced a smile on her face and agreed. If that was the best she could get then so be it. And who knew, maybe something would happen that would force her to remain at the Talon?

Adelar seemed to read her mind. “On one condition,” he said. “You must return to Gryfonesse when I say. And your guard will remain with you at all times. Understood?”

Nodding, Eva took a deep breath. “Understood.”

The king drew Eva into a long hug. “We’ll get through this, I promise.”

Although it didn’t last nearly long enough, Eva relished the short flight she and Fury took from the capital to the Gyr. Without Chel, who’d already returned to the mountain with Wynn, it was the first time Eva and Fury had been alone in… she didn’t know how long. As soon as they were in the air, Fury did his best to pull away from her suggested directions. When Eva gave the red gryphon an impatient nudge with her heel to turn him the other way, Fury let out a rebellious screech and veered off on his own path.

“Hey, bonehead, knock it off!” she shouted at the back of Fury’s head. Eva was about to give him a harder dig in the side for ignoring her when she realized he’d been cooped up as well at the palace.

Even though Fury couldn’t see it, Eva shook her head in exasperation and gave the gryphon his head.

Delighted to have full freedom in the warm afternoon skies, Fury swooped and soared, his aerial prowess on display. In spite of her previous impatience, Eva relaxed and enjoyed the bond with her gryphon as he performed flips, dives and several other aeronautic acrobatics. Once more, her worries seemed to blow away in the open air.

Fighting her own reluctance as much as Fury’s, Eva finally turned them back toward the Gyr. Fury complied, only voicing a half-hearted cry in response to her directing. Nearing the Roost, stark reality returned. Dozens of gryphons and riders flew in and out of the large opening in the side mountain that served as a landing strip. The unusual activity was yet another mark of the impending war and a jarring reminder that life at home was not how Eva remembered it.

The mountain’s interior buzzed with activity. After seeing Fury unsaddled, groomed and fed, Eva made her way down the long staircase from the Roost toward the Main Hall through the bustle of riders. Although she saw plenty of friendly faces, none of her closest friends were anywhere to be found.

Halfway to her destination, a strange sensation overcame her, causing Eva to stop in her tracks. The sounds of other Windsworn laughing and talking around her faded. She looked to her right and saw a narrow side passage empty of people. A tingling sensation ran from the nape of her neck down her back just looking down the dimly lit tunnel.

Unsure why, Eva turned down the passage.

As soon as she stepped out of the main corridor, the light and noise faded behind the first bend in the smaller passage. The crystal lanterns on the wall flickered and sputtered a pale green light. A gentle breeze blew down the tunnel carrying a stale, musty scent with it. Eva glanced back once, eager to find her friends but the hair-raising feeling overtook her once more and she carried on.

A faint remembrance grew with each step Eva took, although she couldn’t ever remember going down this passage before. A gryphon’s scream echoed down the hall and Eva stopped, goosebumps spreading across her arms. A memory tugged at her mind, just out of reach. Now completely resolved to follow the passage, Eva carried on.

The farther she went, Eva became aware of a faint tapping sound. Although the tunnel twisted and wound about like a snake, there were no offshoots. Eva increased her pace. All the while the steady tapping noise grew louder.

The passage made a sharp twist. In the dim light, Eva almost ran into the rock wall, skidding to a halt and throwing her hands out to stop her. And then, she knew where she was. Looking at the ground, she recalled a frustrated, lost girl chasing after an ill-mannered gryphon hatchling.

She knew what came next.

Rounding the corner with caution, Eva peered into the larger chamber before her and spotted an enormous black gryphon with blind, milky eyes. The beast reared on its back two lion’s legs and clawed at the air, letting loose another piercing scream. Although she’d spent years around gryphons, Eva’s heart pounded in her chest and fear gripped her.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar, cracked voice said. “Look who came back for a visit.”

As the black gryphon settled down on all fours, a terribly ancient man hobbled around the edge of the chamber. His skin was even more spotted and discolored than Eva remembered, but the old man’s green eyes still held their sharpness.

“Lord Vyr,” Eva said. “It’s been a long time.”

Chapter Seven

“Ha!” Lord Vyr grinned, his paper-thin skin peeling back to reveal rows of yellow, broken teeth. “What is long time to a fledgling like you? Still, we’re glad for the company, by storm, aren’t we, Basil?”

The black gryphon let out a low hiss, suggesting he was anything but grateful. Eva took a cautious step back — the last time she’d been here she’d sworn the ancient gryphon was going to eat her.

“Oh don’t worry about him, my dear, he’s just all worked up because he’s going to miss the battle. Come on!”

Eva followed the old man around the corner of the chamber, keeping one eye on the black gryphon as she did. Although he looked to be as blind as a bat, Basil’s head followed her every movement and Eva was grateful to duck out of his gaze into a smaller cave where the gryphon wouldn’t fit.

When she saw the table, Eva stopped in her tracks. It looked as terrible as before, the jet-black surface carved with runes and stained with ancient blood. Eva realized she’d seen some of the same runes etched on the armor of the Smelterborn and the ebony of the table looked exactly like her father’s Dark Wonder. Another shiver ran through her and she began to regret her decision.

“Don’t stare, girl!” Lord Vyr snapped, beckoning her forward. Eva approached the table with more caution than she had with Basil.

“How —”

“That gryphon of yours, a red one, wasn’t it? How’s he? Too big for you to chase around like a kitten, I’ll wager!”

“He’s…well,” Eva said, unable to take her eyes off the table. “What —”

Lord Vyr snapped his gnarled, arthritic fingers underneath her nose. “Pay attention! It’s rude to ignore your host. And here we were thinking you had manners, girl. You didn’t even bring any honey for sky’s sake!”

“But the table!” Eva pressed, irritated at the erratic old man. “The runes!”

Lord Vyr nodded. “Well, you’ve got some sense at least. And when it comes down to it, sense is more important than manners in a woman — ha!”

Eva frowned not sure if she was being complimented or insulted. “I’ve seen them before.”

“Of course you have, of course you have, fledgling.” Lord Vyr nodded vigorously and his thin strands of white hair bobbed around his head like cobwebs. “The Gyr used to belong to the Ancients — don’t they teach you these things? They weren’t all as wonderful as they seemed — feathers, no — all sorts of vile blood magics to gain power or live forever. Nasty, nasty times. Nasty people, for the most part.”

The withered man hissed the last words out through his cracked teeth, sounding much like his gryphon in the chamber behind them.

“The prophecy!” Eva said, surprising herself. She struggled to recall the words.

“The lion, the eagle, and the queen,” Lord Vyr said, jabbing his crooked fingers at various runes carved into the table. “It’s all there. Do you not remember? One who can stop the iron storm and turn back the breaking wind.”

“I remember,” Eva said, “but I still don’t have any idea what it means.”

Lord Vyr, gurgled and spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the floor. Eva grimaced — it’d only missed her boots by a finger’s width. The old man studied the disgusting glob for a second and then look at Eva, blinking.

“The meaning is in the finding, fledgling,” he said. “When it comes down to it, prophecies are only as good as the people or creatures in them. The rest is up to you.”

“You don’t make any sense at all,” Eva said. She had enough stress and frustration without listening to the babblings of a cracked old relic.

Lord Vyr sighed and seemed to be just as impatient with her.

“Fear or greatness.” Eva shivered and the words echoed in her mind from years ago, when she’d been a scared, lost girl with an angry gryphon chick that hated her. “I sense greatness in you, but there is still much fear.”

Eva couldn’t argue, although greatness sure didn’t seem all that it was cracked up to be if her life was any indication.

“What will do you, Evelyn?” Lord Vyr said in a hushed tone. “What you will do when all hope seems lost and you find yourself alone in the darkness?”

A sudden fury rushed through Eva. “I’ll fight!” she shouted, surprised at her sudden outburst. She was tired of losing control, tired of always being afraid. “I’ll fight to the death!”

Lord Vyr nodded and bared his broken teeth in what was more of a snarl than smile.

“We’ve always liked your fire, girl,” he said. “Even when you didn’t know you had it.” A mad cackle burst from his lips causing Basil to scream again in the next room. Eva fought the urge to cover her ears as the piercing sound reverberated off the rocks.

Eva broke out into a sudden sweat that turned cold and set her shivering almost at once. “I…I think I should go now.”

“The eagle, the lion, and the queen,” Lord Vyr repeated breathless from his spell of laughter. “That’s the key to stopping the iron storm and halting the breaking wind. Do you understand?”

She didn’t have the slightest idea what the ancient lunatic was talking about, but Eva nodded anyway. “I’ve got it.”

Lord Vyr seemed content. “Good, good! Now, off with you! I must tend to Basil — he doesn’t like being alone, no matter how prickly he pretends to be. Begone!”

“Thank you?” Eva wasn’t quite sure what she was thanking him for.

But the old man wasn't listening. He gave her a dismissive wave and began whistling as he left her alone.

“I trust you know the way out, girl!” he shouted after her from the other chamber. “Good luck! And goodbye!”

As Lord Vyr’s manic, howling laughter followed her down the passage, Eva wasn’t sure if she felt better or worse after the encounter. Long after all sound faded, his words swirled in her head.

Prophecies, she reflected, were a much bigger pain in the rear than they were worth.

Chapter Eight

Gryphons filled the skies — more than Eva had ever seen in the air at one time. They spread across the pale blue expanse above the Windswepts, perhaps the greatest mustering of Windsworn Rhylance had ever seen. Eva couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride looking around at the riders and gryphons around her. Against any other force but the Smelterborn, they would have been unstoppable. Seeing the host in person, Eva allowed herself to think they just might have more than a chance to win the coming battle.

Fury soared through the air on the warm updrafts flapping his wings more to stretch than from a need to stay airborne. Although he’d been free to leave and hunt whenever he wished while Eva remained tethered in the city by her duties as princess, she knew Fury missed her company — he’d grown so surly and unruly in the past month that only Eva had been able to get near him without receiving an irritated hiss.

The blanket of new green grass and the bright spots of thousands of wildflowers gave way to stubborn drifts of snow and bare pale gray rock the higher into the Windswepts they flew. Below them, trails that would have normally been used by deer and elk returning the high country were bloated with siege equipment, horses, oxen, wagons, and soldiers. They cut through the beautiful spring scenery like a knife, reminding Eva that death for many loomed ahead during the season of rebirth.

They neared the Talon and the results of weeks of hard labor came into view. It was a marvel of construction, ingenuity, and cooperation between nations, but Eva still found the fortifications a blight on the mountain scenery. The pass itself was about a quarter mile wide and about three times as long, filled with nothing but slate rock. An earthen bulwark made from boulders, packed dirt and rows of timber stretched from one side to the other. Camps spilled out of the pass and down the western mountainside, filling the meadows and clearings with tents and muddy ground where troops drilled and made ready for the coming battle with the golems. Following the king on his blue-gray gryphon, Justicar, they dipped lower. Adelar and Andor’s private wings followed, as well as Eva’s newly-formed one — comprised of Sigrid, Wynn, Chel, Ivan and a couple other riders Eva had flown with in the past.

Eva wished she could have requested Tahl, but hadn’t wanted to compromise his situation in the king’s honor guard. Eva wasn’t clueless enough to think that her uncles didn’t know she and Tahl were more than friends but doubted either of them would approve of the engagement. Talented rider that he was, it didn’t change the fact that Tahl was common birth and therefore, in the eyes of Adelar and Andor, unfit to marry her. She supposed that if it weren’t for the war, they would have made her end the relationship.

Inside the pass, sheer rock rose up to impassable heights on either side. The snow-capped peaks far above were only accessible by flight and never free of their white crowns. As the mountain’s walls loomed up on either side of them, shutting on the vibrant greens and other colors of the high country, Eva felt the mantle of war descend upon her. The only color came from the banners of the various regiments in the pass. Everything else seemed cold and lifeless — as muted as the Smelterborn’s plate armor.

They flew over the first bulwark and then two more to reach the front lines. Here, the pass widened and descended into a steep slope down the eastern side of the mountain. Here on the eastern side, the earth had been churned into pure mud, on purpose Eva supposed, to make the steep climb even harder for the Smelterborn. Where the pass winged out on either side, Eva saw the Juarag’s hide tents crowded against the cliffs, right where they had requested. Sabercats snarled and tussled with one another, fighting over the rotting carcasses of horses and oxen that had died from overwork and were tossed over the walls for the savage creatures to feed on. Rows of boulders lined the top of the pass, placed to roll down upon the Smelterborn when they began their ascent.

Gazing into the distance, she searched for any sign of the approaching army even though she knew they would be hidden below the timberline. The slope had been cleared of trees for almost a mile. Eva saw additional ditches, rows of fence and hastily built palisade walls. She tried not to imagine the slaughter that would take place there and didn’t envy the soldiers sent out on those front lines with the Juarag. When retreat sounded, those soldiers would be faced with the same uphill climb through the mud as the Smelterborn. Rough-cut, wooden platforms interspersed on the slope held giant siege engines — catapults, ballistae and trebuchets ready to hurl even more rock down upon the Smelterborn. All well and good, until you realized nothing but a direct blow would stop the golems for good.

After a short loop around the eastern slopes, they wheeled back into the Talon and landed behind the second row of walls. A command tent had been set up in the one corner not occupied by soldiers, animals or supply wagons. Fury landed with a squelch in almost a foot of mud, hissing his displeasure. Eva frowned and slid out of the saddle into the mess, hoping she didn’t lose a boot in the muck and make a fool of herself in front of the troops. Behind her, a growling curse announced Sigrid’s landing. As soon as their riders were off, the gryphons leaped out of the muck to roosts on the craggy side of the pass. They hated the mud and wet almost as much as cats. Eva gave Fury a quick pat on the beak before the gryphon flew off to join his fellows, spraying flecks of mud over everyone in the process.

“Let it never be said that war isn’t a glamorous thing,” Andor muttered, flicking a speck of mud from his cheek and glaring after Fury as he rose in the sky.

Eva stifled a laugh, which came out as a snort and a smirk. Shooting her an irritated glance to match the one he’d just given to Fury, Andor turned and headed for the tent. Eva groaned inwardly when she saw yet another map on the table, filled with even more wooden markers denoting the various military stations along the Windswepts. Their real-life counterparts stood at attention as Eva, the king, and lord commander took their places. General Brachus, an almost square man with a thick neck and beet red face, cleared his throat before pointing out various positions on the map with a riding crop.

“Our plan is to contain the Smelterborn to the eastern slope,” the general said, mustache twitching as his eyes roved over the map. “We’ve dug four layers of ditches and embankments up the ridge. As needed, we fall back to the higher lines, all the while throwing rock down upon the Smelterborn with the siege engines. Sky bless us, the ironclads will never get past the first wall.”

“And what if they do?” Eva asked. It was a good plan, but none of the men and women in the command tent had ever fought Smelterborn. “These aren’t men — they feel nothing and care nothing for their losses, general. They will keep coming down to the last golem.”

She could tell Brachus was fighting back a curt reply. Across the table, however, Andor and even Uthred nodded.

“We can fall back behind each wall as needed,” the general said, making it perfectly clear he’d been about to mention this. “If worse comes to worse and we lose the pass entirely, the Scrawls will trigger a slide, shutting off the Talon completely.”

Eva’s eyes widened. The Talon was the main gateway to the eastern frontier — sure, with enough time and work, Scrawls and hundreds of laborers could remove the debris. Eva’s concern was for the wounded soldiers that would be trapped along with the Smelterborn beneath tons of rock…

“But it won’t get to that point, your highness,” General Brachus said. It took Eva a moment to realize he was talking to her — she still hadn’t gotten used to the new title and refused to let her friends speak to her with any formality. “We’re confident we can hold the Smelterborn on the eastern ridge. This battle will field the mightiest army ever assembled in modern history.”

Eva thought this was probably true…if the general meant the golems.

“If we lose the pass, we will fall back to the capital,” Andor said. “Gryfonesse will be evacuated and the people sent west to Pandion. That’s why your role in the city is so important, Eva.”

For being so confident in their initial battle strategy, the level of detail that had gone into the fall-back plans unsettled Eva. She knew it was wise to plan for every outcome but still felt a looming unease the war council did nothing to alleviate.

Eva spent the rest of the day touring the remaining defenses. She didn’t believe it at first but Adelar informed her that the story of her journey east had spread and insisted she make an appearance before as many of the troops as possible.

“Everyone’s talking about the princess who rides the red gryphon,” the king said with a wry smile. “The Windsworn who fought a hundred Smelterborn and lived to tell the tale.”

“What a bunch of nonsense,” Eva scoffed. “I’m sure the tales get even more wild with each telling.”

“Maybe so,” Adelar said. “But seeing you gives them hope and that may be what it comes down to in the battle ahead, Eva.”

She didn’t have a response to that. Even so, Eva still felt like a storming idiot flying around the pass, offering weak smiles and awkward waves whenever soldiers and laborers paused to cheer and hail her.

At the end of the day, Eva was grateful to retire to her personal tent, although Adelar insisted on placing guards outside the door. The quarters were large enough for Sigrid, Chel, and Wynn to stay with her as well. Ivan rested in the Scrawls’ camp, exhausted from his shift using rune magic to improve the fortifications in the pass. Eva had only caught glimpses of Tahl all day. She had a sneaking suspicion that Adelar and Andor made sure to keep her betrothed busy, especially when evening came.

“Wonder how long before the Smelterborn get here?” Wynn asked, mouth full of bread.

“You probably won’t starve to death before then,” Chel said, wrinkling her nose at the girl’s atrocious manners. Sigrid took a similarly large bite of her own loaf and Eva shook her head at the pair.

“It’s going to be a bloodbath,” Eva said in a low voice. She wondered how many of those cheering soldiers had families waiting for them at home they would never see again.

“It is,” Sigrid muttered, starting to sulk again. She’d been looking forward to the battle even though she’d seen firsthand what the Smelterborn were capable of. Tired of her friend’s pouting, Eva gave Sigrid the choice to leave her guard and join the fight, but Sigrid only scoffed and shook her head.

“The last thing I want is to be responsible for the princess dying because I wasn’t there to get you out of trouble.”

“Lots of people are going to die here,” Eva said. “And for what? We’ll just delay the Smelterborn. As far as we know, there’s plenty more out there, just waiting to strike again.”

“Then we’ll fight again when they come!” Sigrid said.

But Eva didn’t think it was as simple as that. She thought of Seppo’s broken memories and wondered if they would have been better off searching for the First Forge. Lord Vyr’s words mingled among her thoughts as well. What in the sky did they mean?

Seppo and Soot were there in the camp, helping the other smiths. Eva had requested both of them in her guard and was surprised when Andor released the pair to return with her to the capital. She couldn’t think of two people she’d rather have by her side and hoped their assignments in her wing would keep them out of harm’s way.

Sigrid, Chel, and Wynn continued to talk but Eva withdrew herself from the conversation, choosing to thumb through a book she’d brought with her, the pages illuminated by the flickering lamplight bouncing off the tent walls. An hour or so later, the others settled down to sleep. Eva doused the light and felt waves of sleep washing over her when a shuffling sound outside the tent jolted her awake.

She listened, heart hammering as the sound drew closer. Her mind when to the Shadowstalkers and she leaned over the edge of her cot to grasp her sword, heart pounding. In the next moment, she realized no Smelterborn could walk that lightly, although this did little to relax her. Eva almost shouted for the guards when a familiar voice hissed through the canvas of the tent.

“Anybody awake in there?”

Eva let out the breath she’d been holding and slumped back on the cot. It was Tahl. Leaning over, she whispered through the tent wall. “What in the name of the sky are doing? If anyone finds out you’re sneaking around camp to see me…”

“I’m off duty,” Tahl whispered back through the curtain.

Eva looked around the tent and saw no one’s breathing had changed. If anything Sigrid’s snoring grew louder.

“Can you come out?” Tahl asked.

“You’re crazy!” Eva glanced at the front of the tent. The guards made no sound or other indication that they suspected anything was up. In spite of her words, Eva slipped on her cloak. With some careful prying and lifting, she squeezed out beneath the back of the tent and into Tahl’s arms.

“That’s better,” he said after they parted from a long kiss. “I’m afraid I can’t stay long, though. I’ve got duty in four hours’ time, and no matter where I am, they’ll expect me to be back soon.”

“I’m worried, Tahl,” Eva said, resting against his chest. After spending the day as a figurehead for victory, it felt good to have someone else to lean on. “I don’t think they’re taking the Smelterborn serious enough.”

Tahl kissed her forehead and Eva thought her legs might buckle. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see. We’ve got a good position and basically the whole western half of Altaris to throw at them.”

Eva didn’t reply, trying to push aside her worries for the moment and savor their short time together. She knew that no matter the outcome of the battle, everything would be different. Being just Eva the Windsworn was a thing of the past. But here and now, she didn’t have to pretend to be some heroine or symbol of hope.

“When are you going to tell your uncle about…” Tahl trailed off “You know, about us?”

Eva felt herself stiffen in his arms. “I…after the battle,” she said. “I’m hoping things will settle down then and life can get back to normal, you know?”

“Whatever you think’s best,” he said, cupping her chin in his hand and smiling at her like Eva could do no wrong. This time, however, she felt more guilt than encouragement.

Still, Eva soaked in that cocky, self-sure smile, committing the moment to memory before pulling tight against him again. “Be careful out there, alright? If anything happens to my uncle, I’ll never forgive you.”

She looked up to show she was kidding. Tahl stepped back and spread his arms in mock indignation. “Oh and I’m just a meat shield for the Smelterborn?”

Before he could continue, Eva pulled him back and, for a long time, lost herself in his arms and lips. When they parted at last, heart racing and breath short, she knew she never wanted to have to say goodbye to him again. Tahl leaned in for another kiss. Summoning all of her resolve, Eva gave him a slight push away.

“Go on, hero,” she said, smiling. “You need to get your beauty rest.”

“Yeah, yeah, gotta look good for his highness,” Tahl said, rolling his eyes. When he took a hesitant step back, Eva felt the space between them like a hammer blow.

“Take care of my future husband too,” she said, winking.

Tahl grinned. “Of course, your grace.”

Eva watched him stride off into the night and, for the thousandth time, wished more than anything she could go with him.

Chapter Nine

Although the coming of the Smelterborn had been followed all the way by gryphon rider scouts, their actual arrival sent shockwaves through the Talon. Nervous mutters spread like a camp disease from one soldier to another until the entire army seemed to thrum with anxiety.

Eva negotiated with her uncles to allow her to observe the beginning of battle from afar, provided she left without question at their command. She agreed but didn’t look forward to turning her back on the battle and returning to the city any more than Sigrid did.

While officers bellowed orders outside her tent, Eva shifted from foot to foot with nervous energy as she was fitted into her armor. It was beautiful work, the finest she’d ever seen Soot and Seppo craft, altered from her Windsworn battle gear to reflect her new status as the crown princess. Over shimmering chainmail, she wore dyed blue leathers trimmed with gold. A pair of golden wings were etched across the chest, matching the designs on her bracers. Still, she would have traded it for rags if it meant the Smelterborn would drop lifeless to the ground.

Around her, Sigrid and Wynn buckled on their Windsworn armor as well. Sigrid brimmed with cooped up frustration at being stuck in the rear away from the battle. Wynn, on the other hand, looked white as the snow-capped mountain peaks, reminding Eva she was just sixteen years of age, barely a full-fledged Windsworn.

Chel, eschewing armor aside from a chainmail vest, was busy painting herself with battle runes and war paint. As she streaked her face with the chalky paint, she hummed in her own language, an eerie, dirge-like sound that did nothing to help Eva’s nerves.

“Relax,” Soot said, placing a calming hand on Eva’s shoulder as her attendant finished lacing up her leg bracers. The old smith looked almost like a different person to Eva — his thick leather apron and ember-burned shirt replaced with a dented breastplate and iron cap that covered his bald pate. Even so, she felt comforted by his presence. He gave Eva a reassuring wink and then placed her helm on her head. Like all of the Windsworn’s helmets, two wings rose from either side and long guards covered her nose and cheeks. The burnished steel and silver glinted like a jewel in the sun — if nothing else, Eva at least dressed the part of the heroine.

In the distance, horns peeled, announcing the Smelterborn had cleared the tree line. Ivan ducked his head inside the tent. He had dark shadows under his eyes from days of labor preparing the defenses. Although not a citizen of Rhylance, Eva had specifically requested he join her guard. The Scrawl Elders were happy to comply.

“The show’s about to begin.”

Eva stepped off the stool she’d been on while being put in harness and buckled on her father’s sword at her waist. Much like Soot’s comforting hand, the dull gray blade filled her with courage as if her father was standing there beside her as well. She hoped she wouldn’t have to draw it.

Pausing, Eva looked around at her closest friends. They’d been through storms, fights and overcome impossible odds together and she wouldn’t have traded them for her own personal guard of golems — although Seppo was more than welcome. The golem stood outside the tent, waiting for them to emerge. Here and there, he recovered more bits and pieces of his memory, but nothing that really served them to defeat the Smelterborn. At first, the men viewed him with suspicion, but when they saw how much he could carry and work without getting tired, the golem was soon a welcome addition to the defenses.

As more horns pealed, Eva stepped outside the tent and blew out a long breath. Soldiers rushed to their posts as shouted orders echoed throughout the pass. Their gryphons stood saddled and waiting. Eva walked to Fury and a loud cheer went up from the surrounding soldiers.

Although she wanted to crawl back in her tent and hide, Eva smiled and raised a hand as she passed, face burning with embarrassment. When she reached Fury, the gryphon reared back on his hind legs and clawed at the air with his front talons. Throwing his head back, the red gryphon let loose a hair-raising scream.

“Show off,” Eva muttered when he came back down.

“Remember,” Soot cautioned as she swung onto the gryphon’s back. “You gave your word. No joining the battle. You’re to watch from a safe distance.”

Eva nodded. “I know, I know.”

Her foster father didn’t look satisfied. “Promise me, Eva.”

“I promise — no heroics today.”

Since his journey with the eastern expedition years ago, Soot refused to fly. Eva guessed part of it was a fear of heights, although the blacksmith would never admit that. Seeing as how Seppo was too heavy to be borne by a gryphon, Soot reckoned he was just as good on the ground too, waiting in the rearguard. This last time was the dozenth he’d made Eva swear to stay clear of the fighting.

The rest of her guard mounted around Eva and Fury. Chel and Wynn on Wynn’s tawny brindled gryphon, Lucia, and Sigrid and Ivan on Sven. Looking up, Eva saw gryphons streaming eastward. Eva and the rest rose in the air and flew straight down the pass, between the two peaks. More Windsworn ferried Scrawls onto the mountainsides, preparing to collapse sections of the pass if worse came to worse.

Although she knew she would be taking no part in the battle, Eva’s stomach clenched in all-too-familiar twisted knots as they flew toward the battlefront. The shouts of men and women grew louder, accompanied by the deep thrum of siege machines flinging rocks and bolts at the golems.

They reached the first wall and found a small ledge with a high vantage point to land on. From their vantage, Eva surveyed most of the eastern ridge. Down the slope, just visible out of the tree line, the first wave of Smelterborn could be seen. They marched over fifty wide in a perfectly-spaced line. These were no scouts or stalkers, either, but full-sized fighting golems, a head taller than the biggest of men and almost twice as wide. Their dull gray armor seemed to soak up the sun, even the runes carved into their metal plates were muted, although Eva shuddered to think of the dark words inscribed there. Each bore a shield in one hand with either a mace, sword, or spear in the other — weapons so large a strong man like Soot would barely be able to lift them, let alone wield one in battle.

The Smelterborn continued to file from the trees. Eva’s mouth went dry. She knew from the scouts how many there were, but seeing them in person, here at the Talon, seemed to increase their numbers tenfold.

Row upon row of golems marched toward the Talon, undeterred by the catapult shot, trebuchet fire and ballista bolts smashing all around them. Had they been a mortal army, the casualties would have been disastrous. A rock the size of a cow smashed into the ground in the third rank, scattering a handful of Smelterborn like rabbits. It kept rolling down through the golems until it passed out of sight in the midst of the gray army. Those not struck acted like they hadn’t even seen it.

Eva guessed each projectile destroyed one or two golems at most — the direct hits that smashed in their helmets and torsos sent the familiar dark shadows arcing up through the sky and off into the pines. Eva was surprised to hear their terrible high-pitched screams even from their distance. Whatever demonic souls powered the Smelterborn broke free of their iron confines, fleeing to storm knew where. The rest of the golems struck by the projectiles merely clambered to their feet and fell back in line.

If nothing else, Eva saw how the boulders and gigantic bolts affected the Smelterborn’s order. Large gaps appeared in the ranks. The golems all continued at the same pace, unable to move any faster to make up lost ground when bowled over by a shot. The sight offered little hope, however. Smelterborn still marched from the trees, their rearguard still out of sight.

The front lines reached the steeper part of the slope and Eva watched the leaders struggle in the slick mud. Several golems went down, flailing like overturned turtles until they righted themselves. Seeing their companions pass them by with no regard made them seem even more inhuman and dreadful to Eva, their sole purpose of genocide manifested.

Eva gripped Fury’s lead lines tighter and tighter as the golems neared the first trenches.

The humans released volley after volley of arrows. Hundreds of shafts flew into the air, the majority clattering harmlessly off the Smelterborn’s armor. Interspersed, she saw gusts of wind, balls of flame and streaks of ice from the few Scrawls mixed in with the regular soldiers working their rune kennings.

After what seemed both an eternity and a moment, the Smelterborn, splattered with mud, their ranks split like a gap-toothed old man, reached the first ditch. They set about hacking at the palisade walls and sharpened stakes as calm as a man chopping firewood. In short order, they were through.

Slaughter followed. For a few minutes, the soldiers, lightly equipped so that they would be able to fall back without the encumbrance of plate armor, were mowed down like ripe wheat. It didn’t take long for the soldiers to break, throwing down their weapons to scramble uphill on all fours like terrified animals. Eva felt herself growing sick but forced herself not to look away — the least she could do for the fallen.

The Smelterborn went about their bloody work in complete silence, their first attack punctuated only by the screams of terrified men and women. In a few horrific minutes, only the dead and the dying remained at the first trench. When the last of the living scrambled past them, caked in mud, the second trench began raining arrows while the siege machines continued to pound away at the deeper lines.

Through it all, Smelterborn continued marching out of the trees. Eva bit her lip. If they couldn’t hold the golems here, what chance did she have?

Chapter Ten

Afternoon passed into evening. The Smelterborn continued climbing the slope. Their progress slowed as the ridge steepened near the entrance of the pass, but nothing could stop the iron golems. Nothing gave them pause or reason to retreat — not that they comprehended retreat. Had the defenders been facing a human army, it would have already been soundly defeated, a credit to the bravery of the soldiers fighting and the design of the defenses and fortifications. But the Smelterborn were not men and cared nothing for the odds they faced or their comrades who perished.

Eva and Fury grew restless on their ledge, watching the battle unfold below. The group as a whole said little, the tension palpable between them. Whenever a soldier fell, Eva’s hatred for the Smelterborn grew and she wished for nothing more than to destroy them down to the last golem.

Soon the front ranks of the Smelterborn were inside the range of the siege weapons. Even so, the brave engineers continued to fire on the rear part of the army, refusing to abandon their posts as the Smelterborn drew closer and closer, inching up the hill like a giant gray snail, slowly but surely.

The majority of the defenders fell back over the walls as the golems crossed the last ditch. They swarmed up ladders and ropes and crowded through a single gate, burdened with the wounded and more than a few dead.

Up above on the ledges, the Scrawls worked in small groups to channel their powers together, creating ice and firestorms. They hurled boulders through the air down onto the Smelterborn, although this did little more than the siege projectiles or arrows. Rune magic worked effectively to stop to the golems one-on-one, but in large groups, the attacks only slowed the Smelterborn’s progress.

Overhead, gryphon riders dived at the Smelterborn, dropping rocks and logs on their heads as they passed by. When the first wing made its pass, one bold rider urged his gryphon closer, attempting to snag a Shadowstalker golem and pull them into the air. Instead, rider and gryphon crashed into the mass of dull gray iron. Eva squeezed her eyes shut at the sounds of dying gryphon, screaming and shrieking as the golems chopped them to pieces.

As terrible as it was to see a fellow rider and his gryphon go down, Eva couldn’t believe the heavy toll the Juarag and their sabercats paid. As soon as the golems reached the second trench, the Juarag had charged, smashing into the side of the Smelterborn with more force than Eva expected. She’d seen war cats in action one on one, but together, they struck like a giant hammer. The sheer power, and ferocity, of the beasts could bowl over even the heaviest Smelterborn.

They died in waves, but their crazed sacrifice slowed the golems’ progress and the nimble sabercats could move across the muddy slope almost as fast as a gryphon flying overhead. Although she’d spent the better part of two years protecting the eastern borders of Rhylance against the same marauding raiders and their fearsome mounts, Eva’s heart broke each time a sabercat’s bawling death scream ripped through the air. The corpses of the fearsome beasts dotted the ridge and Eva found something tragic and sad in their still, dead forms.

Eva’s hands tingled and she realized she’d been clutching the front of Fury’s saddle in a death grip. She forced them loose and drew out a long breath, feeling her chest relax as if there’d been a gryphon sitting on it. The sun waned in the sky and Eva realized they’d been sitting there watching for hours. Although she felt sick, she forced herself to drink deep from the lukewarm water in her canteen and force down a few strips of meat and dried fruit from one of her saddlebags. Smelling the food, Fury twisted his head around to give her a guilt-laden look. The gryphons had all been released the night before to find game and she knew he wasn’t starving but Eva tossed a piece of dried meat in the air for Fury anyway.

By now, perhaps a tenth of the Smelterborn lay defeated on the ridge. Eva guessed for each empty suit of armor, at least three human soldiers had lost their lives with twice as many wounded. After the second palisade fell, the defenders fell back and only attacked with arrows and siege machines, realizing close combat amounted to nothing more than slaughter.

The Smelterborn inched up the hill as sure as the setting sun, within bowshot of the first wall now. Down below, Eva saw Adelar dressed in gold-chased armor, shouting words of encouragement and waving his spear from atop the first wall. She’d spotted Andor off and on throughout the day flying about and directing orders.

Eva ground her teeth, frustrated at being stuck doing nothing, watching the battle unfold. By now, they'd all dismounted and were sitting on the edge of the ledge, solemn and quiet. Eva knew everyone else was thinking the same thing as her. As they watched, her hands drummed on the hilt of her sword and she couldn’t help but think what even a hundred such blades could do. When she’d returned home with it, Soot and Seppo had studied her father’s sword, but even after Seppo’s memory began to return and he recognized the construction, he’d regretfully told them he couldn’t replicate it. Eva offered it to both of her uncles before the battle began, but Adelar and Andor insisted she keep it with her. Tahl had told her the same thing the night before.

She knew her father wouldn’t have stood for waiting around like they were. Aleron and his golden gryphon, Sunflash, would have been right in the middle of the fray, striking Smelterborn down left and right. But that was the difference between them, Eva supposed. In his younger years, Aleron had earned the name “the Pride of Rhylance” for his heroics, while Eva did as she was told, sitting on the rock, stomach churning, anxiety pressing upon her far heavier than her armor did, which was saying something.

She reached for the Wonder around her neck and clutched it tight. Although she couldn’t see the blue, yellow and rose-colored lights twinkling from its stone, Eva felt reassured by its presence. For not the first time, she wished there was a way to use it against the Smelterborn as a whole. But if the Ancients had ever devised ways to fight the golems en mass instead of with stones and swords, no one had uncovered it.

The day passed in a long, slow drag of anxiety, boredom, and frustration for all of the companions sitting on the ledge. The gryphons grew tired and restless but were forced to stay grounded in the event they had to make a quick escape. It was even greater torture for them — the sights and smells of the battle below set them on edge in a way only open skies could relieve.

Sigrid heaved out a long sigh and punched the rock beside her. “I hate this,” she said, teeth grinding together. Around her, Wynn, Chel, and Ivan nodded in agreement without taking their eyes off the battle below.

“We should do something,” Ivan said, fingers and lips twitching as he imagined the kennings he’d chant to hurl destruction down on the Smelterborn below.

Over and over, the thought kept running through Eva’s mind that they could slip into the fray, probably unnoticed. She’d even volunteered to pass messages — anything was better than sitting there doing nothing. She’d started to think waiting at the citadel in Gryfonesse wouldn’t be so bad. At least there, she wouldn’t have to experience the battle firsthand.

As if sensing their restlessness, a dark, earthy brown gryphon winged toward them and landed on the ledge. Its rider, a fair-haired man near their age named Vallon, smacked his fist against his chest and bowed before Eva.

“Your Highness —” he began.

“Oh, storm off, Vallon,” Sigrid said, standing up. She’d been waiting for someone to take out her ire on and the poor messenger proved to be the perfect target. “You can call her Eva, just like the rest of us.”

Vallon gave a nervous cough, eyes darting away from Sigrid. She was known for her nasty temper throughout the Gyr and it wouldn’t have been out of character for her to pummel him right then and there, especially in her current foul mood.

“My — Eva, uh, the lord commander and king have requested that you return to your tent and prepare to return to Gryfonesse at first light.”

“What! You go back and tell my uncle —”

“Eva!”

Before she could finish, Andor wheeled toward them on the back of his pale gray gryphon, Stormwind. “Get out of here!” he shouted without landing. “That’s an order!”

Without waiting for a reply, Andor and Stormwind shot off again, joining with another wing as they soared down over the Smelterborn, dropping debris on their helmeted heads. Fuming, Eva clenched her teeth and swung up onto Fury’s saddle with enough force that the gryphon squawked and staggered to keep his balance.

Vallon shrugged as if to remind them he was just the messenger then launched off the cliff ledge before any of them could take out their frustration on him. Scowling so hard her face hurt, Eva whistled and Fury launched into the air, headed west.

Halfway through the Talon, Eva turned, wondering if they could sneak away in the twilight. But her uncles were one step ahead of her. Three riders trailed her group, no doubt to make sure they did as they were told. Eva vented a sigh and was half-tempted to try to lose them in the dark. Instead, she pointed Fury down to an open space near their tent. As soon as they touched down, Soot was at her side.

“What’s going on? We’ve been getting reports from the front but it’s been all hearsay. Someone said the Smelterborn breached the first wall and then someone else said they hadn’t even made it up the ridge yet.”

Eva related the battle as they’d seen from their vantage point and felt disheartened by Soot’s worried expression when she finished. His face confirmed that things were going as bad as she’d thought.

“Only half a day and they’re already almost to the pass…”

Shadows from the spluttering torches flickered off the rocks. The wind seemed to blow without end through the Talon, a cold bitter chinook birthed on the western sea that grew more violent and icy the farther east it went. Up in the mountains, winter still refused to give away to spring.

“We’re doing all we can,” Eva said, trying to fight the darkening mood settling over them. “The lines can only hold for so long against them.”

“Might not be long enough,” Soot muttered.

Suddenly tired from a day sitting around in armor, Eva began unbuckling her harness. The weight of it had dragged at her through the day, almost driving her insane, and she wanted nothing more than to shrug it off and go to bed. She reasoned the best thing she could do right now was save her strength for when it was needed. On one hand, she wanted to do her share to defend her country and people. On the other, she knew things would be dire indeed if she and her guard were required to fight.

Soot told them he and Seppo would keep watch — they’d spent the entire day in the forge and Eva realized their assignment had probably been even more boring than hers, although much more intensive. She convinced Soot to leave Seppo alone outside the tent with instructions to wake them if anything changed. Although he tried to resist at first, the dark circles under Soot’s eyes revealed his exhaustion and he did little more than grumble at the suggestion to get some sleep with the rest of them.

Wynn helped Eva out of her armor and, as the cumbersome mail fell away, Eva felt better at once. Having spent the whole day in each other’s company, nagging and needling at one another, the friends passed around some muttered, curt goodnights and everyone drifted off to silence or sleep if they were lucky.

In spite of her worries, Eva slipped into a deep slumber almost as soon as they blew out the lanterns. Sometime in the night, she dreamed she was at the mouth of the pass again. This time, however, it was almost impossible to see, the sky starless overhead.

Eva gasped as she realized she was the only one standing in the midst of hundreds of mangled, dead soldiers and dozens of defeated Smelterborn. She felt an overwhelming urge to get help, to make sure none of the Smelterborn had made it through the pass, but no matter how much she yelled, no one answered. She realized no one was alive to answer.

Seized by panic, Eva ran west through the pass, stumbling over hacked and mutilated corpses, sobbing at the sight of familiar faces grimacing in frozen expressions of death. On the verge of hysteria, she reached inside her tunic for her Wonder. When she pulled the necklace out, however, the white stone refused to shine.

She reached the end of the pass and stopped, looking down to see Gryfonesse below her, its white stones illuminated by a hundred fires roaring in the night sky. Eva’s mouth went dry and she looked to the right of the city and saw the Gyr. Gryphons wheeled around its peak, highlighted by the fires in the capital below. Staring, she realized their bodies were halfway rotted, the firelight reflecting through the holes in their bodies and wings. The riders on their backs cackled and screamed, more skeleton than human.

Look upon your doom.

The voice came from all around and inside her head as well. Eva turned and a pitch black Smelterborn with blazing red eyes stood behind her, a great horned helm on its head, enormous smithing hammer hanging from its hand. The runes blazing across its armor burned with the flames of a thousand forges.

I will burn the impurities from this land until nothing remains!

A great rumbling rippled through the ground and Eva fell to her knees as a howling wind screeched down the pass, knocking the gryphons out of the sky into the inferno of the blazing city below. Their dying screams, mixed with the howls of humans and the piercing cries of sabercats, filled Eva’s ears and mind. She clasped her hands to her head and pinched her eyes shut, but could not escape the awful noise.

Eva collapsed and thrashed on the ground, wishing anything — even her own death — would make the sound stop. She rolled over and saw the black-armored Smelterborn standing above her. She grappled for her Wonder and thrust in front of her like a shield, but the chain and stone crumbled to dust in her hands. Laughing, the golem hefted its mighty hammer overhead. Eva curled in a ball, prepared to be crushed and —

“Wake up!”

Yanked from her dream, Eva jerked upright. Her breath came in ragged gasps and sweat drenched her shirt and hair. Eyes wide with fright, she looked around the tent and found everyone staring at her.

“What in the sky were you dreaming of?” Sigrid asked. “We thought you were going to break something the way you were thrashing around!”

Wynn stared, eyes almost as wide as Eva’s and Chel made the sign against evil. Approaching Eva like he might a sabercat, Ivan held out his hand and muttered a kenning. Green light floated from his hand and enveloped Eva in its soothing glow. Eva took a deep breath and relaxed. She reached for her Wonder and was reassured at the warmth pulsing from the stone.

Between Ivan’s rune magic and the Wonder, she felt better at once. Even so, the memory of the midnight golem with the blazing red eyes loomed in her mind.

“It spoke to me,” she said in a faint, cracked voice. Tears ran down her face.

“What did?” Soot asked. He knelt beside her and placed his callused hands over hers. Eva reflected later that she’d never seen him so concerned. “Eva, what did you dream?”

Unable to speak, Eva glanced at Ivan. Their eyes met and she saw the same terror in his eyes. He gave the smallest nod and she knew he’d seen the same thing in his visions. The Scrawl swallowed hard and his face drained of color.

“It’s coming,” Ivan whispered.

Horns blasted in the distance and a big iron arm reached inside the tent, followed by Seppo’s round head. “Hello,” he said, in the same voice he might wish them a good morning. “Please pardon my intrusion, but I believe something bad is happening at the wall.”

Chapter Eleven

After another kenning from Ivan, Eva was able to stand and made her way outside with the rest. Soldiers rushed by them, running to the east. Soot grabbed a passing soldier, nearly yanking him over as he wheeled him around to face them. “What’s going on?”

“The Smelterborn have broken through the eastern wall, sir,” the man said in a hurried voice. “King Adelar and Lord Commander Andor have called for reinforcements as the men try to pull back to safety behind the fortifications in the middle of the pass. My commander was ordered to commit our reserve at once. The Scrawl, Maizoro, and Pandion companies are doing the same.”

Before the man could finish, Eva ran into her tent and began dressing as fast as she could. Wynn followed in behind her and together they pulled the mail over her and buckled on the rest of the armor as fast as they could. Although it was only a few minutes later, to Eva it felt like hours before they were all dressed in their gear. Outside, the gryphons shifted nervously in the mounting chaos, eager to be off the ground. As Eva strode back out of the tent, Soot and Seppo stepped in front of her.

“Where are you off to, missy?” Soot asked, folding his arms on his chest.

Eva frowned. “I’m going to help,” she said. “They’ll need everyone they can get.”

Soot shook his head. “Not a stormin’ chance. You get back to the city, Eva. Adelar and Andor need you there.”

“I can help here,” Eva said, trying to control her mounting temper. “No one else —”

Another series of horns sounded, followed by distant shouts and screams echoing down the Talon.

“Something is wrong,” Soot said, face growing even more grave.

They rushed forward up the earthen rampart until they stood atop the wall. In the faint torchlight, it was hard to see much farther down the pass. Now and then, a blast of fire streaked across the sky or shot down from the sides of the pass, briefly illuminating companies of soldiers rushing east. Eva shuddered, the scene conjuring memories of her nightmare. She guessed it was still a few hours before sunrise, although not even a faint glimmer of light showed in the eastern sky. A pale sliver of moon provided scant light. They couldn’t have been asleep for more than a couple of hours — what could have gone so wrong?

“We should get back,” Soot said, reaching for Eva.

She shrugged his grip away. “I’m not running anymore. Let’s get the others and see what’s going on — that’s the only way we're going to find anything out.”

Soot frowned, the wrinkle on his bald head spreading like cracked earth. “Eva you know —”

“If there’s something we can do to help, we have to try,” she said, cutting him off.

Wading back through the soldiers rushing eastward, Eva and Soot found the rest of her guard awaiting their return by the tent.

“Well?” Sigrid asked, arms folded. “What’s going on?”

Eva shook her head. “Can’t tell but we’re going to look. Everyone in?”

Sigrid pumped her fist in the air, eyes shining with the familiar glint she got every time the prospect of battle drew near. Ivan grinned and cracked his knuckles, shaking out his fingers in preparation for working magic. Chel gave a solemn nod and Wynn tried to put on a brave face, but Eva could see the trepidation in the girl.

“Anyone who wants to wait here with the gryphons can.” Eva looked away from Wynn so it didn’t appear she was talking just to the younger girl. Although she was technically Windsworn now, Eva knew Wynn had never been in a real battle before. Then again, neither had Eva, at least not one of the size they fought now. She looked at each of them in turn but no one wanted to stay behind.

Satisfied, Eva walked over to Fury and the other gryphons, knowing they were as restless as the humans to join the fray. But in the darkness, the chances of them being wounded or killed weren’t worth the risk.

“You’ve got to stay here,” she told Fury, taking a step back as the gryphon tossed his head and hissed. “I know, I know, you don’t like it either, but they’ll be plenty of fighting to go around. Now promise?”

Fury reluctantly dipped his head. Eva wasn’t sure she could trust him to stay but had no more time to press the issue. Returning to the tent, her body groaned as the weight of her armor returned. Fully armed, Eva faced them again.

“Let’s go.”

With Eva, Soot and Seppo in the lead, they picked their way through the chaotic mass of men and women heading for battle. Passing over the ladder of the rear wall — Seppo merely jumped over, landing hard enough to shake the ground — they made it halfway to the second wall before meeting the wounded soldiers in retreat. Eva grimaced at the gruesome injuries on the living as well as the mangled dead. The expressions of the men and women they passed ranged from terrified to dull blankness, the latter the most unnerving.

Each step she took, Eva grew sicker and sicker as her surroundings became more like those of her dream. She reached a trembling hand up, put it down the front of her mail and wrapped her fingers around her mother’s Wonder. Unlike her nightmare, however, the stone shone with its familiar, reassuring light, giving Eva new resolve.

Within a quarter mile of the second wall, the cacophony rose even louder. The screams of the dying, officers bellowing and clangor of arms and armor resounded throughout the canyon cutting through the dark night.

A fresh batch of retreating soldiers rushed by as fast as they could, burdened with the wounded. Soot grabbed one soldier on the shoulder who limped by, using a spear as a crutch. “What’s going on up there?”

“They — they took the western wall!” the man shouted. “We were holding but then this — this thing came! A golem three times the size of the others! Smashed through our soldiers like they weren’t even there! They said the lord commander and his gryphon went down fighting it. I didn’t —”

“Eva, wait!”

Eva ignored Soot’s call and ran as fast as she could, pushing through the soldiers. Thumping footsteps told her Seppo followed at her heels, but Eva didn’t glance back to see if the others were keeping up. Nothing mattered but finding her family.

Even aided by frenzied panic, Eva soon slowed, lungs and legs burning from the weight of her chain mail, sweat running down her back, soaking her padded tunic beneath the armor. Dropping her hands to her knees, she sucked in a couple of deep breaths. Before she could stand up, Seppo swept her off of her feet as if she weighed no more than a baby.

“I’ve got you, mistress Eva!” His voice lacked the slightest hint of exhaustion, and he hadn’t even broken his stride to pick her up.

Eva started to protest, then realized hitching a ride with Seppo was probably the fastest way to the front lines. She glanced back to see the rest of her guard trying to keep up. Looking ahead, she saw men and women surging to the top of the wall, before being thrown back just as quickly by advancing Smelterborn. In the thick of the battle, she spotted Adelar and Andor both still standing. The pair fought back to back, their gryphons swooping down at the golems from overhead.

Seppo waded through the soldiers, a couple swinging at him until they saw his blue eyes and realized he wasn’t attacking them. Even so, Eva insisted he put her down at the bottom of the earthen mound, the errant swings a little too close for comfort. On her own feet, she climbed the mound, pressing through the knot of soldiers to reach her uncles.

“We need more spears to the left!” she heard Andor shout. “Where are the reinforcements from Maizoro?”

“Stay strong, men and women of Rhylance!” Adelar added. “We can hold! We must hold!” He turned toward Eva just as she reached the top of the bulwark, eyes widening in surprise.

“Eva! What are doing? Get out of here!”

“We came to help!” Eva looked over the rampart and saw masses of Smelterborn just a stone’s throw away, jammed in tight, shields up, pushing forward.

“You’ve got to get out of here!” This time it was Andor yelling. He waved a hand, signaling one of his wing to come and no doubt escort Eva back to the rear. Seeing Tahl approaching, Eva almost collapsed in relief. It took everything she had not to rush forward and throw her arms around him.”

“No!” Eva shouted again as the rest of her guard reached her side. Both Andor and Adelar gave Soot a dirty look as if to say they had expected better of him, but the smith was doubled over, huffing and puffing and didn’t notice.

“What happened?” Eva asked. “We couldn’t get a clear story from anyone.”

“We held the front wall for most of the evening and into the night,” Andor said, shouting to be heard over the battle. “But then this enormous golem came out of the trees. We’ve never seen it before. It cut through our defenses like they weren't even there. We’ve been pulling back ever since — our weapons can barely slow it down, let alone damage it.”

Eva looked out over the mass of Smelterborn pushing against the wall and for a brief moment thought of all the dead and dying trampled beneath their iron boots.

“We can’t hold much longer,” Adelar said, pulling her close to talk in her ear. “You must return to Gryfonesse and prepare the city’s defenses.”

“I don’t —”

Before Eva could finish, shouts of alarm rose to their left. Smelterborn surged over a gap in the defenses, cutting a wide circle on top of the wall as more climbed up behind them.

“Go!” Andor yelled. “Tahl, get her out of here!”

Tahl grabbed Eva’s elbow. She jerked away and drew her sword to enter the fray but before she could take a step, the pass reverberated with a deafening thunderclap.

BOOM

Everyone — men, women, and Smelterborn — halted. The ground shuddered beneath Eva’s boots.

BOOM

Eva look to the sky, expecting to see lightning flashing above. The thunder reverberated through the pass and Eva wondered if the Scrawls had decided to collapse the mountain on top of them.

BOOM

All eyes turned toward the eastern end of the pass. Barely visible in the darkness, a monstrous shadow approached towering over the other golems as if they were children.

BOOM

Rooted to the spot, Eva stared in horror at the colossal Smelterborn lurching toward the wall.

Chapter Twelve

The regular-sized Smelterborn parted before the colossus, lining a wide path down the middle of the Talon. When the enormous golem passed, the others filled in behind it, marching as fast as they could to keep up with its lengthy strides. Horror flooded Eva as she saw its armor, black as the night surrounding it, and deep red eyes burning with the ferocity of a thousand chunks of molten iron. With every step, the colossus beat a mace the size of a tree against a shield as big as a wagon, the cause of the thunderous booms.

“Run, Eva. RUN!” Andor shoved her away, but Adelar grabbed Eva’s hand and held it tight.

“Promise me, Eva,” he said, blue eyes piercing through her. “Promise me you’ll hold the city.”

Overcome with shock, Eva only nodded. The colossal golem drew closer, arrows and spears falling from its armor like straw thrown at an anvil.

“Eva, come on!”

Tahl’s worried face drew Eva to her senses. She drew her sword, scooting sideways down the earthen slope as the rest of her guard filled in around her. The Smelterborn resumed fighting and flanked the soldiers on the wall. In such close quarters, and without the aid of numbers on their side, the human warriors fell left and right, their weapons all but useless against the golems.

A man in front of her went down, leg buckling from a Smelterborn’s sweeping blow. As the golem raised its club overhead, Eva leaped forward to parry the killing strike. It took all of her strength to swing her sword hard enough to knock the blow aside and she stumbled forward, tripping on the injured man beneath her. The Smelterborn recovered faster than any human could have and Eva just managed to side step another swing.

Two more Smelterborn hemmed in around the first and Eva shouted at the man to crawl away. The golems stomped toward her and Eva knew she had no hope of fighting three at once. Suddenly Tahl, Soot, Seppo and the rest were at her side. The Smelterborn stared at Seppo for a long moment as if in faint recognition. It only lasted a moment. The enemy golems shook their heads and advanced.

Eva yelled and ducked beneath the swing of the original Smelterborn, this time thrusting her sword up and into its chest. The runes on her blade glowed like the weapon had just been drawn from the forge, passing through the thick metal plate like paper. Wrenching the blade free, Eva just managed to stumble out of the way as the golem crashed to the ground.

An awful roar shattered the air — an ear-splitting mixture of grating metal and hammer blows. Seppo slammed into the Smelterborn to Eva’s left, still bellowing. The rest of her guard attacked the one on the right. The two golems crashed together like a pair of bulls, the Smelterborn abandoning its sword and shield to grapple hand to iron hand with Seppo. For a moment, they struggled back and forth, arms locked. But whatever craftsmanship had gone into Seppo’s making proved to be superior. Surging forward, the golem threw the Smelterborn down and locked its hands around his opponent’s helmet. In one mighty wrench, Seppo tore his opponent’s head from its shoulders before the Smelterborn could recover.

Eva gaped. She’d never seen Seppo hurt so much as a fly in almost two decades living with him. Now he charged forward like a terrible war machine, shouldering aside another golem in a terrifying display of raw strength. Eva might have remained rooted to the spot if not for Wynn tugging at her arm.

“C’mon!”

Wynn yanked Eva down the Talon as Ivan threw a blast of ice into the face of the other Smelterborn and the rest of her guard fell in around her. Glancing over her shoulder Eva saw Seppo take on two enemy golems at once, caving one’s helmet in with a fearsome punch before hurtling the other back into its counterparts behind.

Soot shouted for Seppo to join them as reinforcements surged around them to stem the iron tide of Smelterborn marching through the breach in the wall. Eva’s guard pressed in around her, fighting to keep from being borne back toward the front lines.

“Make way for the princess!”

“Make way for the princess!”

Eva saw the wall swarming with Smelterborn now, their colossal champion reaching down to tear out chunks of earth and rock and cast them upon the human soldiers like a two-armed catapult. Neither of her uncles could be seen. Eva’s stomach rolled, imagining the worst.

“No time to stop now, missy,” Soot said, putting an arm around Eva’s shoulder to pull her along. “Keep moving!”

They found enough room to jog, still dodging oncoming reinforcements. Farther back, most were in ordered lines and columns, having yet to succumb to the chaos at the front of the fight.

Back at the third wall, officers stood on top of the earthen mound, waving their swords and directing their regiments forward. Scores of Pandion spearmen marched in unison, equipped in heavy plate. More Scrawl rune masters ran forward in small groups, the tattoos on their exposed skin glowing as they prepared their kennings and supplicated to the Muse Mother. Row upon row of Sorondaran knights, most of the reserve, shouldered their war hammers, thronged by Mairozon bowmen and lancers who had abandoned their horses. Roused from sleep, dozens of gryphon riders sped overhead down the pass toward the battle.

Several dark shapes pulled up and fluttered down above them, their screams revealing them as gryphons. Eva recognized Fury and ran to his side. She knew at once something must be wrong if he’d left the tent.

Eva swung onto his back and pulled Chel up behind her. Muttering curses, Soot climbed on Lucia while the others all mounted around him, leaving only Seppo on the ground. Eva saw Soot’s look of trepidation and knew only the dire circumstance got the smith to climb onto the back of a gryphon and break his vow of never flying again.

As soon as they were airborne, Eva’s feelings of something wrong were confirmed. Off to the west, she spotted soldiers running to the north, small dark shapes illuminated by flickering torches. Horses screamed and broke free, bolting down the slope into the trees. A burst of Scrawl fire lit up the cliffs a short distance from Eva’s tent and she saw Smelterborn Shadowstalkers and scouts leaping down from the rocks.

“We’re being flanked!” Eva shouted to the others. Without a command, Fury shifted his flight leading them toward the attack.

Eva glanced back and saw the others flying in close succession behind her. Down below, Seppo hurtled past human soldiers racing toward the rear.

Nearing the golems, Eva and Chel leaped from the gryphon’s back and Fury hurtled himself at the Smelterborn, catching one in the face with his talons and bowling it over. Ignoring her dry mouth and the empty, hollow, nervous feeling inside of her, Eva ran toward the rocks and drew her father’s rune sword.

Instinct took over and Eva slashed through a Shadowstalker pinning a man to the ground with its spear. The sword sliced through the thinner, lighter armored golem like an ax taken to a sapling tree. The leaner golem split in half, wailing as the spirit trapped within fled into the night. Without checking the man on the ground, Eva charged a scout about to cast a spear at the incoming gryphons and took its arm off at the elbow joint.

Swinging his massive two-handed sword like a club, Soot struck one of the Shadowstalkers in the head, not killing it but knocking it to the ground. Sigrid screamed, sounding more gryphon than woman and cast one of her axes, catching a Smelterborn scout just right in the helmet. It collapsed lifeless to the ground. Tahl, Chel, and Wynn rushed to protect Eva’s back while Ivan spouted words faster than Eva thought imaginable, fire and ice shooting from his hands.

The rearguard rallied around them. Together they drove the Smelterborn back against the cliffs but more of the golems leaped down from above. No matter how many Eva cut down with her blade, Ivan with his rune magic or the others through brute force, another always sprang into its place. Even Seppo did little to discourage them, ripping heads and limbs from their armored torsos like they were scarecrows.

In a brief lapse in the battle, Eva watched awestruck as the golem worked his destruction. Seeing Seppo in the midst of battle made the other Smelterborn, even the leaner, agile Shadowstalkers, look like children’s toys next to his precision and skill. Eva would have given almost anything for a hundred more just like him.

The last Smelterborn fell and a ragged cheer rose from the survivors. Many defenders lay dead around them, at least three for every fallen Smelterborn. It was a terrible price but not as heavy as the one paid by the defenders in the pass. By the time the last Smelterborn fell, Eva and the rest were exhausted, shoulders slumped, weapons dangling, chests heaving. Only Seppo looked unaffected, humming as he piled the broken bits of Smelterborn together.

“We need to get to Gryfonesse,” Tahl said as soon as they’d caught their breath and taken a sip of water. “The Talon won’t hold much longer.”

Eva gave a tired nod. They walked toward the gryphons and were about to take flight when a flash of gray passed. Stormwind landed before them, a weary Andor sliding from the saddle. Eva ran toward her uncle with new hope, grateful to find him alive and sure the lord commander’s presence meant the tide had turned.

When Andor looked at her, Eva’s leaping heart plummeted in her chest. Andor’s piercing blue eyes were dull and swollen. In the faint light, he looked gray and ragged, aged beyond his years in the short time since she’d last seen him.

“What is it?” Eva asked, grasping her uncle’s arms. “What happened?”

The lord commander bowed his head and sank to one knee.

“The king is dead,” he said in a broken, rasping voice. “Long live Queen Evelyn.”

Chapter Thirteen

As everyone around her sank to her knees, cold dread settled over Eva. Dumbfounded, she stared at Andor’s bowed head — her last living blood kin.

“We tried to retreat to the middle wall,” the lord commander said in a flat voice. “But by the sky, there was nothing we could do against the colossus. It swept aside twenty men with every blow of its mace. Adelar… he commanded me to oversee the retreat and said he was falling back here. Instead, he and Justicar went straight for that sky-cursed monster. By the time I saw…it was too late. They flew right at its head, I don’t think the golem expected that. By the tempest, his lance struck true, right in its eye…but…there was just no way they could get away in time. The colossus fell and they went down beneath it…took a score or more of Smelterborn with it, crushed them all beneath its weight. I wanted…I wished I could have…”

Andor trailed off, tears running down his grief-lined face. Eva sank down next to him, and they clutched one another, overcome in grief. She couldn’t believe it. She’d just seen Adelar, just spoken with him. The wounds of her father’s death tore open once more, threatening to overcome her.

Wiping his eyes, the lord commander let out a long, ragged breath and rose, lifting Eva with him. She swayed, leaning against her last uncle for support, unable to stand on her own.

“I’ve ordered everyone to fall back to the city and the Gyr,” Andor said. “And sent word ahead to have the Juarag refugees moved north immediately. We must go. Once I see you safe to the city, I will return and oversee the withdrawal.”

Eva managed to nod, still stricken with grief, unable to grasp anything with her numb mind. Andor walked back to Stormwind and Eva turned, in a daze. The others rose, watching her uncertainly. It was Tahl who came forward first, hesitant as if looking at a different person other than his beloved.

“Just get back to the city, that’s all you’ve got to do right now,” he said. “We’ll figure the rest out then, okay?” He squeezed her on the shoulder, those confident, reassuring eyes pulling her from the fog.

Nodding to the others, she ran a hand along Fury’s neck and stepped around his lowered wing into the saddle. Chel followed in silence. In the air, the stillness grew between them. Eva tried to silence the rush of thoughts overwhelming her. She wasn’t ready to run a kingdom, not by a long shot. Just like she’d told Adelar, she was supposed to have years to learn and watch. She scoffed at herself. So much for that.

“What will we do now?” Chel asked.

“I …” Eva let out a long deep sigh. “I have no idea.”

Chel gave Eva a gentle squeeze and continued the embrace as they flew. “I will help you. You are my sister, remember.”

Eva nodded, throat tight. She struggled to fight the tears. One of the last things Aleron had said to her and Chel, before he’d sacrificed himself, was that Eva and Chel had to look after one another. Andor wasn’t her last living family after all, but then again, neither was Chel. She knew she could — and would — rely on Soot, Sigrid, Wynn, Ivan, and Tahl.

They flew well into morning before Andor touched down in a small mountain clearing surrounded by tall, dark, brooding pines. Eva knew he would have liked to make it all the way back to the city, but the gryphons were as exhausted as their riders, heads and tails drooping.

Eva hadn’t considered the grief the creatures must have felt. For every rider that died, a gryphon perished as well. Although the creatures were hatched from hundreds of different broods, they still formed a large family, just like the Windsworn. The massive loss of the majestic animals was a tragedy in and of itself.

She pulled out her necklace, clenching the Wonder stone in her hand, trying to absorb some of its light into her shadowed heart. They would rebuild, she vowed in silence. They would destroy the Smelterborn.

“We cannot rest for long,” Andor said to them. “There will be more Shadowstalkers on the way. Sigrid, you and Tahl take first watch, but only for an hour. Then Soot and I will relieve you. We leave as soon as Seppo reaches us.”

Eva tried to imagine the hulking golem running through the trees, hurtling over boulders and streams. He was fast and did not get tired, but still couldn’t keep up with the gryphons. At least, Eva thought, no Smelterborn would reach them before Seppo did — he outpaced even the swiftest golems.

Everyone settled down. Eva rested her back against Fury, using his warmth to keep away the chill since they couldn’t risk a fire. Unable to even think about sleep, she turned the Wonder over and over in her hands. The light faded from white to pink and gold before at last settling on sky blue.

Eva’s mind emptied and she stared into the depths of the stone. The light looked familiar. Eva thought and thought but her exhausted, grief-stricken mind couldn’t place where she’d seen it before. Just on the edge of recollection, the memory left her frustrated and irritated. Eva stuffed the stone back beneath her chainmail.

A heartbeat later, something crashed through the undergrowth and everyone jumped to their feet, hands on their weapons. The sound of snapping tree limbs and iron boots stomping on rock continued until Seppo emerged from the brush. Eva breathed out a sigh of relief and lowered her sword.

“Hello!” Seppo said in his usual cheerful voice. “It would seem I have found you.”

“You think?” Soot grumbled. “Where’ve you been? We’ve waited for hours!”

“I’m sorry,” Seppo said without a hint of sarcasm, plucking a twig from between two armored plates. “I had a rather hard time keeping up on foot and was not informed of a meeting location.”

Eva snorted. The others grinned as Soot’s face turned red and he ground his teeth together. If he understood he’d made a joke, Seppo’s bright blue eyes showed no sign.

Seppo’s bright blue eyes.

Eva stared for a moment before it clicked into place.

“That’s it!” she shouted, yanking the Wonder stone out again. Everyone looked at Eva like she’d lost her mind as she held the chain above her head, dangling in front of Seppo’s face. The colors inside the stone swirled and changed, no different from any other time. Nothing else happened.

“Eva, maybe you need to get some rest…” Tahl said, lowering her arms with a gentle push of his hand.

Eva jerked away but was too excited to be angry. “Listen to me! The light doesn’t affect Seppo like it does the Smelterborn.” The stone turned the same shade of blue as the golem’s eyes and she shook it in front of Tahl and the rest, who still appeared to be deciding if she’d lost her mind.

“Look! It’s the same color! Why did I not think of it before? What if Seppo made this Wonder to help defeat the Smelterborn?”

A few uncertain looks passed between the group but Eva could tell they weren’t convinced.

“That might be true but, like you said, it has no effect on him,” Ivan said. “Your Wonder is a useful tool for fighting the Smelterborn but… that seems to be about it.”

Eva turned and thrust the Wonder at Seppo once more, determined to prove them wrong. The golem stared at the lights as they changed from gold to pink and the familiar sapphire hue but, as Ivan said, nothing happened. Inside, Eva felt her excitement evaporate and her face burned with embarrassment.

She sighed. “I guess I just —”

“May I see that?”

Seppo held out his hand, still staring at Eva’s Wonder. She shrugged. “Guess so.”

The stone’s golden chain slithered through her fingers and the Wonder made a soft ping, landing in Seppo’s metal palm. Seppo closed his iron fingers around it.

In the next instant, blinding light burst from between his clenched fist. Eva and the others stumbled backward, raising hands to cover their throbbing eyes. Seppo let out a grating moan like rusted metal screeching together and collapsed to the ground. It was impossible to look at the golem or the stone, and Eva felt the warm glow of the Wonder cover her entire body as if a fire burned in Seppo’s hand.

“Put it down, you iron idiot!” Soot shouted. “Drop it!”

The light winked out as soon as the stone fell from Seppo’s grasp. No one spoke. The golem looked around at them in apparent confusion and clambered to his feet, limbs quaking.

Eva blinked and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get rid of the flashing spots in her vision. Her skull throbbed with the worst headache she’d ever felt.

“What in the tempest was that?” Sigrid said. “My head feels like it was split with an ax!”

“Has that happened before?” Andor asked.

Eva shook her head and wracked her memory. “I don’t…Seppo’s never actually touched it before, not that I can remember anyway.”

“He has once.”

All eyes turned to Soot.

“Back at Palantis,” the smith said. “Aleron and I found him laying there, didn’t look like anything but an empty suit of armor. Aleron thought he’d play a joke on the others and drop the stone inside the helm so it looked like it was glowing. The joke was on him — Seppo woke up, scared the feathers right off Aleron!”

“And you never bothered to tell anyone?” Ivan asked, incredulous.

Soot frowned at the Scrawl. “At first I didn’t want that stone to put him back to sleep! In the years since I just kind of forgot about it.”

“May I say something?”

Seppo picked up the Wonder by the chain, careful to not let the stone touch him, and handed it back to Eva. “Things are…clearer now.

“Talus was my name, I was an inventor of some kind. The First Forge… it was meant to be my greatest triumph but it failed.” Seppo paused and heaved a sigh. “I-I was ashamed — my life’s work was all for naught. In my agony, I threw myself into the fires of the forge, to end my existence.”

Eva felt a cold chill run down her back. Memories of her battle against the first Smelterborn in the depths of the Gyr resurfaced and she shuddered to remember the dark blood magics she’d witnessed.

“I awoke in the flames, but I was not burning,” Seppo continued. “When I emerged from the First Forge, I found I had succeeded. I was a golem, my soul protected by an enchanted iron body that would never age. I was immortal!”

Eva took a step back, sensing a change in Seppo’s voice she’d never heard before. He sounded…harsher now, and she sensed the madness that had been lurking in the shadows of his triumph.

“What happened?” Soot asked in a hoarse voice. Eva wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.

Seppo shook his iron head and his fists clenched in frustration. “I-I am not sure. It is all so fragmented. Something — Illmaren, no!”

They waited in silence until Seppo regained his composure. The golem’s broad shoulders sank and he bowed his head. Eva didn’t want to ask, seeing how much pain the memories caused her lifelong friend and guardian. But she knew she had to.

“Who was Illmaren, Seppo?” she asked, mustering an empathetic tone. “Please — I know it hurts, but we need to know.”

“He was my apprentice,” Seppo said, voice flat. “He…he died in the Forge. Afterward…I am not sure. There are large chunks missing. I fled Palantis. It was at that time the Smelterborn were created. I was angry — someone corrupted my creation! I returned, some years later… to destroy the First Forge.

“By now there were very few Palantines left. I led them through Palantis…there were golems everywhere. No! My friends! Fire! Smoke! Ogunn!”

A familiar darkness seized Eva, the same hopelessness that had dogged them on the Endless Plains. She had never heard the name spoken before but somehow she knew, knew this was the evil they faced.

“It was he who corrupted the First Forge,” Seppo said. “The Smelterborn were his vile design. We…fought. The Palantines stood no chance. We failed… The next thing I remembered was being awakened by Soot in the ruins.”

An oppressive silence permeated the forest clearing. The humans looked at one another but no one dared break the quiet.

“So what do we do now?” Wynn asked, unable to contain herself any longer.

“We go back to the city,” Andor said. “And try to save as many people as we can.”

“There is another chance,” Seppo said. He gestured to Eva’s Wonder and then turned to Soot. “Do you have the other?”

Soot nodded and reached for a pouch tied to his belt, extracting the Dark Wonder. The two stones glittered in each other’s presence as if vying for control, Eva’s flashing golden light and the other pulsing blood red from the runes carved in its ebony surface. “Adelar gave it to me for safe keeping. Haven’t let the sky-cursed thing out of my sight since we left the city, why?”

“I used Mistress Evelyn’s stone to power the First Forge,” Seppo explained. “It’s twin is the dark stone. Ogunn killed my apprentice and stole it from him, corrupting it and the First Forge to birth his Smelterborn.

“It is what Ogunn has sent his army of golems for. I am sure of it. He knows I am awake and that he is vulnerable while it is in our possession. With both stones, I believe I could destroy my creation for good and, in turn, the Smelterborn.”

“That’s all well and good,” Andor said. “But unless you can take your forge apart from here, it doesn’t change the fact that hundreds of golems are marching on Gryfonesse right now. The Scrawls will have sealed the pass, but that isn’t going to stop them forever.”

“No,” Eva said, “but it could buy us some time. If the Smelterborn can sense the Dark Wonder and it’s taken back to Palantis, perhaps they’ll follow.”

Everyone but Seppo stared at her like she’d grown a second nose.

“There’s hundreds and hundreds of miles between us and Old Palantis,” Soot said. “And each one of them has a dozen different ways to kill a person. And am I the only one who realizes Seppo can’t fly? It would take months to even reach the coast on foot!”

“And the First Forge will likely be well-protected,” Ivan said. “With golems, yes, but powerful rune wards as well, I imagine. It would take an army to even reach Palantis!”

Eva shook her head. “We don’t need an army. A small group has a better chance of sneaking on the island without being noticed; like my father did.”

“You’re crazier than I am!” Sigrid laughed. “That’s a death wish! We don’t stand a chance!”

“It can be done,” Seppo said. “The Smelterborn will not know for certain where the Dark Wonder is — especially the closer we are to Palantis. The odds of survival are not in our favor, however.”

Wynn shook her head. “You must’ve lost a couple of screws. Sigrid’s right, that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of!”

“So crazy it might work,” Tahl said in a low voice. “And it’s the best chance we have, as far as I can tell.”

“But you are the queen now!” Chel said to Eva, placing a hand on her arm as if to beg her to stay. “You cannot do this.”

Eva looked at Andor. So far her uncle hadn’t said a word, just watched with a brooding expression on his face while the others talked.

“What would you have me do?” she asked.

“I would have you return to Gryfonesse and defend your people,” he said, followed by a long pause. “But as Chel says, you are queen now. The choice is yours.”

Thinking of all the innocents in Rhylance gave Eva pause. There was no easy answer. The chances of them making it all the way to the First Forge, let alone finding and successfully destroying it, was a long shot. But so was defending Gryfonesse from the Smelterborn, especially after what they’d seen in the Talon.

“You asked what I would have you do,” Andor said, noticing her hesitation, “Adelar would probably say the same. But you aren’t my daughter and you aren’t Adelar’s daughter.” He paused and a grim smile spread across his face. “Your father would take the stones to the First Forge.”

Eva couldn’t help but give a small smile back before growing somber once more. “Then I would ask you, lord commander, to rally our troops and return to the city. Gryfonesse is your command now… I will go to the First Forge.”

Looking around at her friends, their exhausted faces covered in dirt and streaked with sweat, Eva knew she couldn’t ask any more of them. Especially not this. “If —”

“Oh, come on,” Sigrid said, rolling her eyes. “You already dragged me and Ivan and Chel all over hell and back once. You know we’re coming.”

Ivan looked at Sigrid like he’d seen a ghost. He opened his mouth to say something but then seemed to think better of it and nodded. “I’m with you, Eva,” he said in a quiet voice.

“I am with you as well, sister,” Chel said.

“And the only reason I didn’t go last time is because you didn’t give me the chance!” Wynn stepped up with the rest, looking determined to fight anyone who told her no.

Eva’s eyes met Tahl’s.

“I should have gone with you last time,” he said. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

That left only Soot.

“The last time I told you I was going east, you said you wouldn’t go back for anything in the world,” Eva said. Aside from Seppo, who only had partial memories, Soot was the only one who’d been to Palantis before. Eva knew she needed her foster father, as much for his quiet strength as his knowledge.

“You’re going to drive me into an early grave,” Soot muttered in his best grumpy tone. “I reckon this is the only reason worth going back to that sky-cursed hole. Guess that means we’re coming too, eh Seppo?”

The golem nodded. “I am the cause of all this. We will come with you, Evelyn, and help you destroy the First Forge.”

Eva looked at them each, in turn, heart swelling for her friends and loved ones.

“Let’s save the world.”

Chapter Fourteen

With no sleep and a few rations they’d scrounged together, the group set off at sunset, now heading south. Although the gryphons disliked flying in the dark, walking on the ground under an enclosed canopy of pines was worse. They took to the air, circling above as the riders walked along in the dark.

With no idea how far the Smelterborn were behind them, Eva remained on edge for any sign of attack, such as a snapping stick, a looming shadow between the trees or the crunch of an iron boot on rock, but the forest remained silent. One advantage — if you could call it that — of being chased by iron golems, she’d realized after several encounters, was that suits of armor couldn’t move with much stealth. Not even the Shadowstalkers or scouts were quiet enough for gryphon, or even human, ears to miss. Nevertheless, they walked with hands on weapons, ready for an ambush at any moment.

Gray morning revealed they’d kept their intended course, holding the Windswept mountain range to their left. Despite a night of clambering over boulder fields and doing their best not to tumble down steep ravines, they’d made decent progress. But progress came with a price. Eva felt exhaustion dragging at her, tripling the weight of her chainmail until her arms, legs, neck, and back felt like she carried a Smelterborn’s iron shell, not her lightweight armor.

Thankfully, they had Seppo to clear the way for them. The golem hefted broken branches and rocks blocking their way, tirelessly blazing a trail through even the toughest terrain. In the growing daylight, Eva could see twigs, pine needles and dirt caught between the golem’s plates or held fast by blotches of sap.

The golem let out the closest sound he could make to distaste and tried scrubbing himself to rid his armor of the sticky substance.

“What a mess,” Seppo said flinging the handful of rock and sand away in disgust. “I’ll be in need of a good scouring and oiling when this is done.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Soot said. “We really feel for you.”

The rest of them had just as many twigs sticking out of their armor, but also enjoyed a host of cuts and scrapes — collateral of blundering through the pines in the dark. As tired as they’d been back in the meadow, Eva thought they resembled walking corpses now. The dark rings under their eyes were more pronounced, giving their features a sunken, skeletal look. Eva could only imagine what she would see peering into a looking glass.

Seppo found a small stream and the humans did their best to clean up after drinking deep and refilling their water skins in the frigid runoff. Passing around what was left of their rations helped sate everyone’s growling stomachs. Eva didn’t relish the task of foraging in the mountains in springtime when most plants had yet to flower and wild animals had picked the remnants of last year’s bounty clean.

“Looks like it’s back to dried meat and roots soon,” Sigrid said around a mouthful of the last of her biscuit. “Seems like we just got off this yesterday. If I’d have known that, I would have eaten better when I had the chance.”

“Pretty sure my belt thinks it was just yesterday,” Ivan said, tugging at his waist. “I swear, if I make it through this I’m going to get so fat I can hardly walk!”

“There are worse things to eat,” Chel said. “Especially when nothing is all there is.”

Eva silently agreed with Sigrid and Ivan. Although it felt like an age ago, she reminded herself they’d just spent weeks on the Endless Plains, fleeing the Smelterborn west. Now, with barely any time to recover during the flurry of war, they were doing it all over again, in the opposite direction.

“It will be better this time,” Chel added. They all looked at her, but she gave no answer.

“How in the name of the sky will it be better this time?” Sigrid asked, incredulous.

“Oh, I think I can answer that,” Seppo cut in. “I believe what the Juarag-Vo woman means is that this time, the chances of any of you surviving to make the return journey are so small that your suffering will likely be over sooner than later.”

Chel stared at Seppo, a faint look of horror on her face. “That is not what I meant at all!”

“Alright, alright, enough gabbing,” Soot said. “Seppo you get to take watch — all night, every night. Since the rest of us need sleep, how about we all pipe down and try for some, eh?”

While the gryphons went off to hunt — it’d been almost two days since they’d eaten — Eva and the rest hunkered down beneath a large pine. The old tree sat on a short rise overlooking the beginnings of a gorge cut by a torrent of water below. Most likely it had been snow the day before, melted off the mountains just above the tree line.

Eva closed her eyes and focused on the sound of the rushing stream, trying to clear her mind using a meditation technique she’d learned from Ivan. Soon, she felt herself drifting away and finally fell into a deep slumber.

Seppo woke them a short time later — Eva didn’t know how long they’d slept but it wasn’t long enough. Still, she felt the edge of her fatigue blunted and stretched her sore muscles. It was midday, overcast and dreary, but the clouds were far above and didn’t look to hold rain or snow.

Soot gathered them around a bare patch of dirt and began sketching out a rough map of Altaris on the ground with the end of a stick.

“Here we are, about halfway down the Windswepts,” he said, drawing a series of vertical arrow shapes. In any other situation, Eva might’ve commented on how childlike the drawings looked, but she held her tongue and focused on the crude map.

“The Talon is the largest and easiest pass, but there are some on the Rhylance Skrael border that we can take without too much problem,” Soot marked these with a couple of Xs. “Once we cross the mountains, we’ll take the same route as the last time, skirting below the Endless Plains through Ivan’s country.”

“It may still be winter in Skrael,” Ivan cautioned. “Our cold season lasts longer than it does farther north.”

“We’ll just have to deal with it,” Soot said. “There’s not time to swing back around to the north, not without losing weeks and any ground we’ve gained on the Smelterborn.”

“South it is, then,” Eva agreed.

To the right of his mountains, Soot drew a big circle marking Skrael and the other southern lands. “Most of the country through here is hills, mountains, and forest, much like this, if I remember right. Good news is spring should be well on by the time we get into the highlands.” He made several more markings even farther to the right. “Beyond that, we’ll eventually drop into the river country and then hit the woodlands and the ruins of the Palantine Empire. From there, it’s a roughly northeast shot to the coast. We follow it until we see the island and there you have it.”

He sat back and folded his arms over his broad chest. Looking at the rough map, it seemed the simplest plan in the world. What the scratches in the dirt didn’t show were the miles and miles of rough country, spring storms and Smelterborn they’d face, nor did it take into account the fact they’d be traveling slowly, unable to fly beyond what Seppo could walk in a day.

“It’s a good plan,” Eva said. “But what about when we get to the island? How can we evade the Smelterborn?”

“We may have an advantage in our favor,” Seppo said.

They looked at the golem expectantly but he stared at the mountain peaks as if he’d forgotten about the conversation. Soot smacked him on the breastplate. “Focus, rust bucket!” he growled. “What are you talking about?”

“The First Forge gives the Smelterborn life,” Seppo said. “And Ogunn has overstretched his army to recover the Dark Wonder. It may be that if they have sensed the stone is moving east that they will abandon the attack on Rhylance and return to Palantis, lest they become inanimate.”

“So it’s a race to see who can make it to the island first,” Tahl said.

Seppo nodded. “In a way, yes.”

“The good news is old Seppo here is faster than your run of the mill golem,” Soot said, thumping the golem’s chest plate again, pride apparent in his voice. “It’ll be close, but there’s a chance, at least.”

“No time to waste then,” Sigrid said, standing. “The sooner we get through storming Skrael, the better.”

The weather grew wetter and colder the farther south they traveled. Frequent spring storms poured buckets of rain and often turned into giant, wet snowflakes that left them soaked to the bone and shivering. While the gryphons and their riders flew overhead, Seppo ran along beneath them, bounding over the roughest terrain at a pace impossible for a human. When the gryphons needed rest from the additional riders, Soot, Chel, and Ivan walked with Seppo. Even with the benefit of flight, the days grew long and tiring.

Just as Soot promised, the highlands of Skrael proved to be fierce and unforgiving. Sigrid, Tahl, Eva, and Wynn took turns scouting ahead in pairs, a method that helped them circumvent a numbers of ravines and canyons that would have otherwise added days to their journey. Although the humans could be safely ferried across through the air, all four gryphons combined could barely lift Seppo off the ground and then only until the ropes broke from the weight.

After three more days travel, Soot found the pass they were looking for, a high scree field far above the tree line between two snow-capped peaks where nothing but moss and lichen grew. They passed between the two mountains peaks in somber silence. At the top of the pass, Soot pointed out a large pile of rocks off to one side of the narrow trail.

“I’ll be stormed!” he said with a rare chuckle. “We piled those up as a waypost marker on the last trip. Can’t believe they’re still standing — never thought I’d ever see them again.”

Eva walked over to the tower of rocks and saw a large flat stone leaning against the boulder forming the foundation of the pile. It was the size of a table, with names carved into the rock by rune magic. Eva knelt down and ran her fingers over the letters. She recognized several, including Wayland — Soot’s given name — Andor, Uthred, and Celina.

She paused before reading the last out loud. Eva traced her fingers over the grooves cut into the stone. “Aleron Vakarin, Expedition Captain.”

Soot snorted, but a small smile played on his gruff features. “That cocksure young idiot. He gave that title to himself. Drove everyone else half-crazy trying to get us to address him as captain. It was only a joke — I think. Sometimes you couldn’t tell with Aleron.”

Eva closed her eyes and tried to imagine her father and the rest of the expedition standing right where they were now, full of excitement and anticipation for what lay ahead. Little had they known they’d waken an evil capable of destroying all Altaris. Not to mention alter the course of Eva’s family forever. At that point had Adelar already begun courting her mother, attempting to steal his brother’s betrothed? Were the seeds of their love already planted, waiting to grow? Was she torn, even then, between the two brothers?

Regardless of the aftermath, Eva felt encouraged to stand in her father’s footsteps. Perhaps, she mused, she’d been meant to reach this crossroads all her life.

The southeastern tail of the Windswepts changed from barren gray rock to pine forests far darker and taller than those on the western side of the mountains or to the north. Journeying beneath the ominous boughs felt to Eva as if she’d stepped into another world. The thick canopy made it hard for the parties on the ground and air to stay in contact with one another. If anything were to happen, she doubted the gryphons would be able to find a place to land through the thicket of branches.

Ivan, on the other hand, seemed rejuvenated by the sharp scent of pine mixed with the earthy tones of the wet loam. When they descended into the trees he paused and sucked in a deep breath of air, tilting his head back and spreading his arms.

“Smells like home, doesn't it?” he asked Sigrid.

Sigrid frowned and, for a moment, Eva thought Ivan would be sporting a black eye. “The Gyr is home. This is just another sky-cursed forest.”

A tense silence followed. Soot and Chel shot Eva a questioning look. What they didn’t know was that Sigrid was Bersi — a Scrawl who couldn’t use rune magic. Given Sigrid’s natural inclination for violence, it wasn’t a sore spot Eva wanted them to prod at. She shot both Soot and Chel an expression to drop it.

Ivan, knowing full well Sigrid’s background, chose to let the subject fall into an awkward silence as well. “Well, uh, I’ve missed it anyway.”

“Good for you,” Sigrid snarled. “Now can we keep moving or do you want to sniff around some more?”

Before anyone could answer, she stormed off, hacking any unfortunate foliage that crossed her path. Her sour mood continued for the rest of the day and, after seeing to Sven and cleaning her weapons, Sigrid curled up in her blanket and went to bed. Eva waited until her friend’s snores punctuated the night before allowing Ivan to explain to Soot and Chel.

“Almost all Skraelings are born with some affinity for rune magic,” Ivan said, “but not all. These we call Bersi — it translates to something like ‘unblessed’ in your language. Most lead normal lives, but some of the more backward, highlands clans consider Bersi to be a curse from the Muse Mother.”

Chel nodded in understanding. She herself was an outcast of the Juarag and had grown up in a band of misfits called Juarag-Vo, or tribeless.

“It’s not something Sigrid talks about,” Eva said.

“I’ve known Sigrid the longest out of any of us,” Tahl said. “And trust me, this is the last thing you want to talk to her about. We were in the same class of cadets and there were some other children who made fun of her for her rune markings and being a Scrawl. She sent them all to the infirmary on our second day.”

Eva winced, recalling a beating Sigrid had given her when she was a green recruit.

“Like it or not, we might run into some other Scrawls before we make it to the river lands,” Ivan said, glancing across the fire at Sigrid’s still, snoring outline. “I hope she behaves herself — the clans out in the wilds aren’t as… civilized as the Scrawls you’ve all dealt with before.”

They continued over miles of rolling hills, steep mountain expanses, and thick forest. The land east of the Windswepts and south of the Endless boasted crueler country than Eva imagined. Bellowing rivers of snowmelt cut through huge cliffs where mounds of snow still clung to the shadows. The cold, cruel spring storms lashed them with sleet, and whenever the pale sun managed to fight through the clouds, it offered little warmth or light.

Each day blended together and the travelers forged a common understanding between one another. Ivan, Chel, Eva, and Sigrid, having already spent over half a year together, were used to one another’s annoying habits and quirks. Likewise, Sigrid and Tahl, often companions on various Windsworn missions with Lord Commander Andor, got along fine. But the rest, particularly Soot and Sigrid, butted heads like a pair of mountain sheep.

The pair argued over everything until it drove Eva crazy just seeing them tense up and glower at one another. When Soot wanted to continue on for the day, Sigrid thought they should stop and hunt. When Sigrid wanted to change course, Soot wanted to keep their current direction. Constant reminders of her birthplace left Sigrid snarling and spitting like a wet cat. At last, Eva could take no more.

“Enough!” she yelled just as it looked like they were about to come to blows over the best place to build the night’s fire. “I don’t care how the two of you work it out but the rest of us can’t stand any more of this!”

Sigrid bared her teeth at Soot. Eva knew her friend had no hesitation trying the bigger, stronger man on for size. Soot, sometimes sharp-tongued but usually the last to resort to physical conflict, looked just as ready to give Sigrid a sore rear end. After several tense moments, however, the two relented, mumbling unintelligible apologies. Although it was in a worse spot, Eva had Ivan build the fire in a third location different from both Sigrid's and Soot’s. Their meager meal didn’t help to improve anyone’s outlook.

“Now the snow is melting we might find a Scrawl village or camp to trade with,” Ivan said. Everyone glanced at Sigrid, but she seemed completely focused on putting an even finer edge on her favorite ax and didn’t notice or pretended not to hear Ivan.

The thought of eating something besides stale, brick-like bread, dirty roots and fire-blackened meat sounded too good to pass up. In the morning and over the next few days, Eva sent Sigrid and Wynn to scout out any sign of a Scrawl village in their somewhat immediate vicinity. She hoped some time in the sky with Sven would improve her friend’s disposition. But when they returned in the afternoon, Eva could tell right away they bore bad news.

“Well, we found someone,” Sigrid said. “But it sure ain’t Scrawls and I doubt they’ll give us anything to eat.”

“Who —” Eva started to ask. Before she could finish the question, Wynn cut in, eyes wide.

“Juarag!”

Chapter Fifteen

“A whole raiding party by the look of it,” Wynn said. “Twenty warriors mounted on sabercats.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Tahl said, frowning. “The Juarag stay on the plains or foothills —they don’t hunt in the high country. Besides, I thought all of them had been pushed west by the Smelterborn?”

“This looks like a different tribe than the ones that were gathered on the frontier and on the Talon,” Sigrid said. “All their war cats are black and gray, painted with red.”

Eva turned to Soot for his input. The smith shrugged. “Might be nothing. They’ve been pushed out of their hunting grounds — could be they’re just looking for fresh meat in the spring. If the Smelterborn are heading back east, some of the tribes might be returning to the plains.”

Soot didn’t sound convinced and somehow Eva didn’t think that was the case, either. It made no sense for a raiding party of Juarag to just happen to be in the highlands near them. By the look of it, Chel thought the same thing as well.

“There were rumors,” she said, “that some tribes allied with the Smelterborn. Such an act would be beyond dishonorable, however.”

Eva’s stomach twisted.

“How far away are they?” she asked Sigrid and Wynn.

“Ten miles northwest, at most,” Sigrid said. “They’re moving in our direction, but I don’t think they saw us. We were flying pretty high up and had some cloud cover.”

“Nothing to do but keep an eye on them,” Soot said. “Let’s see what we can round up for dinner.”

Over the next few days, Sigrid and Wynn continued observing the Juarag. It soon became apparent they were being loosely followed by the raiders — their path took a turn east, running parallel to Eva and her companions. At last, Eva decided she needed to see the band for herself. She and Tahl followed Sigrid and Wynn on their gryphons, flying high as they could given the elevation and cold.

Once Sigrid pointed out the parties, they landed in the crags, each on their own perch and observed the group far below.

Just as Sigrid said, the group looked to be made entirely of warriors, armed with an array of weapons, including spears, bows, clubs, and hide shields — weapons for war, not hunting. They traveled two wide, the black and gray war cats picking their way through a boulder field with ease, despite their size.

“They’re moving quick enough they might be able to head us off,” Eva said to Fury, huddled down against his neck to stay warm. “Almost as fast as Seppo… Do you think —”

Fury let out an unexpected hiss, drawing Eva from her thoughts. And then she saw them.

Almost impossible to make out against the dark rocks were two Smelterborn, a scout and one of the Shadowstalkers, judging by the golem’s narrow, oblong head. The Shadowstalker carried a long staff in his hands that ended in a twisted shape Eva couldn’t make out at their distance. The golem raised its staff and held it out before him, moving it from side to side. After a long moment, the golem turned all the way around directly facing the ledge where the gryphons and their riders perched.

Eva’s insides turned cold as the Smelterborn stared up at the rocks they were hidden in for several long moments. At last, it shook its head and continued off in the same direction they’d been heading, towards Seppo, Soot, and Chel.

“It’s torn between the two stones,” Eva said, half to herself and half to Fury. “It doesn’t know whether to head toward us or Soot.” The gryphon stared at the Smelterborn, ears pinned back against his feathered head as if he hadn’t heard Eva.

The Wonder stone felt like ice against her skin and Eva reached a trembling hand inside her shirt to wrap her fingers around it. At her touch, the thing grew warm once more and shone with its regular array of colors.

“Put it away!” Sigrid hissed. Eva stuffed the chain and stone back under her tunic and saw the black Smelterborn had paused again, staff held out in their direction once more.

That was all Eva needed to see. “Come on,” she said as soon as the golem turned away after several long moments. “Let’s get out of here.”

They left the crags one by one, not wanting to draw attention to the entire group of gryphons taking flight at once. To further confuse the Juarag and their Smelterborn trackers, Eva led them in a circle around the backside of the mountain peak, the opposite way they’d flown in from.

“They are hunting us,” Chel said when they returned to camp and related what they’d seen.

No one else spoke as the realization sank in. Eva felt like a fool for believing they wouldn’t be followed and chastised herself for not being more careful.

“What if we ambush them?” Sigrid suggested. “They won’t be expecting that.”

“We’d lose too much time, not to mention we’re outnumbered,” Eva said. “I don’t want to risk it. Besides, there could be more out there.”

If the previous silence had been discouraging, this one was downright dreadful. “They could be everywhere,” Wynn said in a hushed voice.

“Stick to the plan,” Soot said, his booming voice striking them out of their despair like a hammer knocking away slag. “We’ll keep scouting, travel fast and make sure no one goes anywhere alone.”

They all agreed, although Eva could tell Chel and Wynn, in particular, seemed less than comforted. But it seemed the best course to take or, as the Windsworn were apt to say, any perch in a storm. They’d simply have to move faster.

But Eva toyed with another idea as well — the Smelterborn and Juarag hunted the stones, her Wonder, and the one Soot carried. If she could manage to take the Dark Wonder from Soot without him noticing, she could lead their hunters away from the rest of the group…

Of course, she realized in the next moment, it wouldn’t work. The First Forge couldn’t be destroyed without Seppo’s help and there was no way Seppo would go with her plan, nor could she escape the others with gryphons with Seppo on foot. Instead, Eva vowed to do everything to keep her friends safe. She thought back to her father’s death just a few months before and told herself she would never let that happen again to someone else she loved.

Once more, they fell into a routine: scout and check the location and distance of the Juarag and Smelterborn, hunt for food, find a camp, repeat. The constant worry of their pursuers dogged Eva’s thoughts, compounded with the constant need to stay dry and fed. As such, she felt an enormous amount of relief when they spotted a Scrawl camp not too far ahead. Ivan, Tahl, and Eva went to greet them. Sigrid naturally elected to stay behind, scowling while she put new edges on her array of knives and axes.

The Scrawl camp sat on the edge of a large meadow, shared by a large, mirror-like pond. Eva and Tahl landed their gryphons on the opposite edge of the clearing to avoid undue cause for alarm. Although the Scrawls were allies with Rhylance, it hadn’t been many years since the nations had been at war, fighting over territory. Some of the more remote clans, Ivan said, still held plenty of grudges against the gryphon people.

“Don’t call them Scrawls,” Ivan warned. “It doesn’t bother most of us, but some of the remote clans find it extremely offensive and disrespectful to our language. Make sure you say it the right way: Skrael.”

Eva was surprised to find the Scrawls living in skin tents similar to the Juarag. She reminded herself that long ago before the Sorondarans came to Altaris or the Palantine Empire reached its height, the ancestors of the Scrawls and Juarag were the same people. Although they also populated a few ancient cities, including the famous Library of Skaal, many still kept to their old nomadic lifestyles as druids.

A flurry of activity filled the camp once the clan saw them approaching. Two Scrawls, a man and woman tattooed with so many runes that their skin looked almost purple, walked toward them as they crossed the meadow. In spite of the chilly spring weather, the woman wore only a few strips of leather and cloth across her chest and a pair of leggings. The man was bare-chested and wore only leggings. They both walked barefoot across the sloppy marsh ground, seemingly unaffected by the bite of the cold mud. Both parties halted several paces from one another.

“You are a long way from home,” the Scrawl man said. He clutched a twisted staff of gray wood in his hand, carved with runes and animal and plant totems. The woman stared at them without offering a greeting, her cold gray eyes passing over each of them in turn. Eva noticed the woman wore a silver ring, a Wonder judging by its craftsmanship, around her neck on a leather throng.

“Is there not war enough in your lands?” the woman asked, speaking in a voice as harsh as her expression. “I would have thought that would keep you from trespassing into ours.”

“There is,” Eva said, carefully choosing each word. Worshipers of language, everything said to the Scrawls had to be measured and selected with care. “And we are grateful for the rune masters that Skrael sent to help us defend our people.”

“Flattering words, but they do not answer my question,” the woman said.

“Two pretty birds with travelers three,” the man said in a singsong voice while he danced a little jig. “What oh what do they want from me?”

Eva shot Ivan a confused glanced but her friend just shrugged. “I’ve heard better,” Ivan told the man. The Scrawl only gave a wide grin in response, leaving Eva with the impression he might be a few runes short of a book.

“We are traveling east to fight the golems,” Eva said. “We are here to barter supplies from you for the days ahead. We also came to warn you — there are Juarag who have joined with the Smelterborn and they are in your mountains.”

“Because you brought them here,” the woman said in an accusing tone. She looked at Ivan and shook her head in disgust. “Why do you travel with these outsiders who trespass on our lands?”

“I am helping them defeat the Smelterborn,” Ivan said, frowning back at her. “The golems are everyone’s enemy.”

“From out of the west into the east.” The Scrawl man sang again and resumed his shuffling dance. “Can’t fight the golems with nothing to eat.”

“Quiet, Rhys!” the woman snapped before turning to the others. “We travel light to our spring camp and have little to trade. Then again, I doubt you have anything we want, either.”

“Our gryphons can bring you fresh meat,” Tahl said, gesturing back to Fury and his white gryphon, Carroc. Both creatures dug at the soft grass and sod across the meadow, clearly bored and eager to be gone.

“Ha!” the woman spat. “So you hunt from our lands and then offer to trade the meat back to us?”

“Please,” Eva said. “Is there nothing we can give that you would like?”

The woman seemed to think for a long moment and then pointed to Eva’s chest. “The relic around your neck would probably suffice.”

Eva clutched at her neck, unsure of how the Scrawl woman even knew about her Wonder, which remained hidden underneath her tunic.

“I…I’m afraid that’s not for trade,” she said.

“Pretty stones and blinking lights. What is the price to buy a life?”

“Does he have anything useful to add to the conversation?” Ivan asked, his patience clearly running thin. “What is the name of your clan? When I next see the Elders, I would like to let them know who among us refuses their hospitality.”

The woman shifted into a stance Eva recognized as preparation for working rune magic. She barked out a couple of words and balls of fire burst to life, crackling in her hands. Eva reached for her sword and Ivan assumed a similar pose, the ground beneath them rippling like water boiling on a kettle. Sensing danger, the gryphons screeched from across the meadow, but luckily waited to be summoned.

“Enough!” Eva placed herself between the two Scrawls and held up her hands. Tahl came to her side at once, although how he thought he could protect her from rune magic with a blade, she didn’t know. “I am Evelyn Vakarin, Queen of Rhylance, niece to the late King Adelar. I cannot give you this Wonder, but name your price and if it is fair and within my power, I will grant it.”

The woman smirked and clamped her hands shut, snuffing out the balls of fire. “My, things have indeed changed in the outside world since the season darkened with winter.”

“If you will not trade with us, we will be on our way,” Eva said, tired of the woman’s hostility.

“I never —”

A gryphon’s scream split the sky to the west causing them all to spin around in alarm. Eva spotted Chel and Sigrid winging toward them on Sven, followed close behind by Wynn and Soot astride Lucia. Moments later, Seppo burst from the tree line on the opposite side of the pond, running at full stride.

“What is going on?” The Scrawl woman hissed, stepping back and summoning another ball of fire into her hand. Even Rhys looked alarmed and began muttering under his breath, hands twisting as he worked his own kenning.

“They are with us!” Eva said, hoping to avoid another conflict. “They mean you no harm, I promise!”

Sigrid landed between the humans and the other gryphons and ran toward them, not waiting for the others.

“It was a trap!” she shouted. “There are more Juarag and Smelterborn coming from the east — they’re only a few miles away!”

Chapter Sixteen

Behind them, the Scrawl woman cursed and pointed a finger at one of the rune markings on Sigrid’s forehead. “What have you and this Bersi brought upon us?”

Sigrid’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. Eva recognized the look on her friend’s face and blocked Sigrid’s view of the Scrawl woman before they were fighting Scrawls in addition to Juarag and Smelterborn.

“How many are there?” Eva asked, forcing Sigrid to meet her eyes. She glanced at the Scrawl woman, half-expecting her head to be torched by a fireball.

“Too many,” Sigrid said. “While you were gone, I thought I’d scout out ahead — Soot couldn’t remember which river it was we needed to follow — that’s when I saw them. At least a dozen Smelterborn — and I’m guessing these ones are fresh from Palantis — plus a score of Juarag, all on sabercats.”

“Begone from here, fight your battles elsewhere!” the Scrawl woman shouted raising both hands, which glowed with rising flames. “My clan wants no part of this!”

“The ones we knew about are heading this way too,” Sigrid said, lowering her voice so only Eva could hear her. “No way they’ll pass by this bunch — the pickings are too easy. If this witch doesn’t want us here then I say we leave. We can evade both parties if we swing farther south, but we have to leave now.”

Eva looked at the Scrawl’s camp on the edge of the meadow. The rest of the clan watching the proceedings seemed to include only a dozen men and women in their prime. The majority consisted of old ones and young children. A brief image of sabercats and Smelterborn tearing through the camp made up Eva’s mind.

“We brought them here,” she said. “ Even if we’re not welcome, I’m not going to leave these people to be slaughtered because of us.”

“Forget them,” Sigrid hissed fighting to keep her voice down. “We’re the ones that will be slaughtered!”

Eva shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Then go and get yourself killed for these ungrateful savages, but I won’t!” Sigrid balled her hands into fists and stalked off toward Sven. She made it all the way to the gray gryphon’s side before letting out a roar and hurtling her favorite ax into the soft ground.

“Tempest take you, Eva,” she said, followed by a string of more severe profanities. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“The Bersi is right,” the Scrawl woman said and spat again at their feet. “We do not need your help!”

“They will kill you all,” Eva said. “Together, we can defeat them. Apart, we may both die.”

The woman sneered and spun around to return to her camp but the man Rhys grabbed her shoulder. They spoke in hushed, angry tones too quiet to overhear for several moments. At last, the woman turned to the gryphon riders, still scowling.

“I do not like it, but Rhys is correct,” she said, forcing each word out like it was poison. “We are together in this, like it or not.”

Ivan extended a hand. “Your word?”

Eva knew no matter how much the Scrawl woman despised them, if she agreed, then she could be trusted. She remembered Ivan telling her once that each clan had a word, sacred to them. If Eva had asked for such a thing, the woman would have probably struck her down at once.

The woman’s eyes widened in shock at Ivan’s request. “You dare —”

Before she could say anything more, Rhys grasped Ivan’s hand and muttered something in his ear. Ivan repeated something back — his own word, Eva guessed — and the two nodded.

“Bound by word,” Rhys said.

“Bound in voice,” Ivan replied.

Eva had taken the man for a simpleton, one of the rune-addled whose mind had been twisted by the magic, but he seemed anything but now.

“We have a safe place to send those who cannot fight,” the man said. “Ferike will ready the warriors.”

The woman, Ferike, looked less than pleased that the man had shared her name with them but ran off nonetheless to prepare her people.

“Is there better ground we can meet them on?” Soot asked, gazing around. The meadow wasn’t bad — but it left them exposed on all sides. At least they could see them coming — the thought of facing the Juarag and Smelterborn in the trees, where the gryphons would be all but useless between the close trunks and boughs filled Eva with dread.

“Not that we have time to find,” Tahl said. “We’ll have to make do with what we have here.”

The Scrawl camp dissolved in the space of a few minutes. The young and old melted away into the trees and the defenders selected a position with their backs to the pond. Although it left without a path of retreat, the water also protected their backs the best they could hope for in the given surroundings.

A short time later, Ferike and Rhys returned, with just over a dozen rune workers ranging from teens to older adults following them. They approached Eva’s group with caution, especially the gryphons and Seppo. The friendly golem, on the other hand, seemed keen to meet the Scrawls.

“Delightful!” he exclaimed. “It’s always a pleasure to work with someone who knows their way around the runes, even if you people are a bit… rudimentary compared to the Palantines. When the fighting begins, just remember I’m on your side!”

He finished with a short, metallic laugh that sounded a bit nervous. Eva couldn’t help but notice how the golem’s personality continued to grow the closer they got to Palantis.

“We’ll put you lot behind us,” Soot told the Scrawls, gesturing to the edge of the water where a string of last year’s cattails stalks stood dry and lifeless. “Hopefully we can hold them off while you do your work.”

Ferike nodded and the rest of the Scrawls walked past them, careful to keep from touching any of the riders or meeting their eyes.

“I’m not sure we’re all on the same side,” Tahl muttered to Eva once they’d passed.

Eva didn’t know what to say — the familiar sickness that always plagued her before a battle had crept up. She flexed her torso to keep her rolling stomach from sickening further and thought back briefly to all the fights she’d been in. None, not the Hippiriot on the plains, the Smelterborn on the plateau or the great battle at the Talon had begun with worse odds than this one. She’d been on patrols that had driven off Juarag raiders and had witnessed the brute strength and ferocity of the sabercats. Without question, the beasts were physical equivalents to gryphons.

They’d chosen not to fly during the battle to better protect the Scrawls and to make the gryphons less of a target for the Juarag’s bows and throwing spears. Eva felt very alone and vulnerable on the ground, even with her comrades around her. She shifted her attention to Wynn, who looked even worse on the outside than Eva felt inside. She put on a brave face, catching Wynn’s eye.

“Just stick with us and you’ll be fine,” Eva said, hoping the quaver didn’t come through in her voice.

Wynn nodded and gritted her teeth, trying to show her best impression of Sigrid. The older, dark-haired woman seemed even more incensed with the Scrawls behind them. Sigrid locked her jaw and ground her teeth, eyes darting around, eager for the Smelterborn and Juarag to show themselves.

Eva glanced up but saw no sign of Fury or his comrades returning. The gryphons had gone off together to scout for the approaching enemy while the humans prepared their meager defense. She worried that they weren’t back yet but told herself Fury and the others were smart enough to stay out of harm’s way. On the plus side, the longer they were gone meant the farther away the Juarag and Smelterborn were.

“When they come, go for the golems first,” Eva said. A few nodded and she felt a little more confident. “The Juarag and their sabercats are powerful, but they die like any other living thing. The Smelterborn, however, can only be brought down with strong rune magic or a strike through their helmet openings.”

Before Eva could think of further advice or summon any encouraging words a gryphon scream split the air. Looking over the trees, she saw Fury and the other gryphons flying toward them at full speed.

Eva swallowed hard and tried to summon some steel to her voice. “Get ready!”

The air around them hummed from energy and elemental power as the Scrawls began their kennings. Soon the sound grew to a buzzing crackle. Eva had never felt so much power concentrated in one place. She glanced to her side at Soot. He stood calm and ready, a massive hammer hung loose in the grip of his good hand — her pillar of strength. Tahl gave her a crooked grin and a wink, spinning his sword in his grip. On Tahl’s other side, Sigrid growled over the chanting of the Scrawls and banged an ax against her shield. Eva twisted her grip on her rune sword.

And then…

Nothing.

The Scrawls’ combined chanting slowly died down to silence. Eva’s hand burned and she loosened her grip on her weapon. The gryphons circled overhead — had they been mistaken?

Eva and the rest looked around, searching for any sign of movement on the edge of the forest. The trees were far enough away that the Juarag couldn’t fire from the cover of the forest. With their numbers, Eva didn’t see why they would do anything but a brute charge. The Smelterborn couldn’t approach without causing a racket as they crashed through —

An enraged feline howl split the air. A heartbeat later, a wave of Juarag raiders mounted on sabercats burst from the treeline. Another cacophony of blood curdling screams sounded from the right as another band of raiders charged. The enormous cats pounded across the meadow as fast as galloping horses — a hasty count showed numbers closer to thirty in all.

Rolling with each bound of the giant felines beneath them, several Juarag drew back their bows, firing at random intervals at the bunched up group of gryphon riders and Scrawls. Some of the Scrawls shouted kennings to the wind and a breeze blew most of the arrows awry. A young Scrawl woman screamed in pain as one arrow found its mark, sinking deep in her leg. She let out a moan and collapsed clutching the wound.

Eva twisted her grip on her sword once more, unable to do anything but watch while the enemy drew closer. Time seemed to slow as the distance between them and the Juarag shrank. The Smelterborn followed close behind, the scouts and Shadowstalkers running faster than a man at full speed. Eva suddenly felt very small and vulnerable.

A massed shout burst from behind her and a hot wind nearly knocked Eva to the ground. The Scrawls’ combined kennings of wind and fire struck the sabercats and their riders like a wall, frying several in the charge. The surviving beasts scattered as their riders fought to control the singed, uncontrollable felines. Thick smoke and an awful smell of burnt air and flesh filled the meadow.

But the Smelterborn passed through the wall of fire without pause. The other group of sabercats to the northwest continued unmolested. Eva braced herself for another kenning. None came. Twisting around, she saw half the Scrawls behind her with their hands on their knees, sucking in air.

For the moment, it was up to her and her friends.

Eva raised her sword, signaling the gryphons toward the other pack of sabercats closing in. Screaming their war cries, the gryphons dove toward the Juarag charge. At the same time, Seppo bounded toward them, roaring. Eva gritted her teeth and braced for the collision.

Chapter Seventeen

Seppo and the gryphons crashed into the sabercats head-on. Running full speed, Seppo sank his shoulder into the chest of a cat, flipping beast and rider over backward. The gryphons dipped at the last moment, picking four riders out of the saddle with their talons. They rose, holding the flailing men tight in their grasp and only let go when they were at the peak of their second pass. All four men screamed before smacking into the ground where they laid unmoving.

Eva motioned to the other group of smoking sabercats and scorch-marked Smelterborn. Ferike nodded and took half of the Scrawls with her to press the attack. Letting loose a scream worthy of Sigrid, Eva led the rest in a charge toward the melee of Seppo, gryphons, sabercats and the Smelterborn.

Seppo fought like a machine of total destruction. As Eva and the rest neared, he punched a war cat on the side of the head. The beast went down in a heap. Without waiting to see if it was still alive, he leaped over the cat and locked arms with a Shadowstalker. Twisting, Seppo bored the Smelterborn to the ground. Another jumped on his back. With one hand, Seppo reached behind him and shed the smaller scout golem like a fly. It flew through the air, crashing into another sabercat.

Despite the defenders’ vicious counter-attack, five of the Juarag regrouped and sprinted toward the humans from atop their sabercats. The gryphons struck again, this time hitting the raiders with closed, fisted talons scattering the Juarag line. Eva yelled and swung with all her might, burying her sword in the neck of a sabercat that was struggling to its feet. The beast let out a short yelp and jerked then went limp.

A lanky Juarag woman bowled into Eva’s side and they both went down in a heap. Eva hit the ground hard. Her opponent’s rotten furs reeked of spoiled meat and cat urine. Growling, Eva scrambled to get out from underneath the Juarag, her sword pinned beneath her. She rolled over, one hand fending off the woman's grasping hands, while she reached for the knife at her belt.

Wedging her knee against the woman’s chest, Eva heaved and they broke apart, both rising with drawn knives. They circled one another for half a moment, Eva’s gaze locked on the Juarag’s hard, dark eyes.

Eva didn’t hesitate. She lunged and the woman leaped to the side, falling for the trick. The Juarag’s bone knife sliced past Eva’s face. Planting her foot, Eva pivoted and buried her knife deep into the Juarag’s shoulder. The woman screamed in agony and swung wildly, grazing the mail sleeve of Eva’s armor. At the same time, Eva wrenched her knife free and sank it in the raider’s side. But the blow brought Eva too close. Using the last of her strength, the Juarag slashed Eva across the stomach.

Eva felt the cut and gasped. The Juarag fell to the ground, bleeding from both wounds. In her state of shock, it took a moment for Eva to register the chainmail that had just saved her life. She stared down at the Juarag woman at her feet. Blood bubbled out of the woman’s mouth as she hissed and choked.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, breaking Eva from her trance. She twisted around, knife raised and found Soot staring back at her. He’d lost his cap somewhere and had a long scratch down his bald head.

“You alright, girl?” he shouted.

Eva nodded and picked up her sword. She felt her breakfast rising and did not look back at the dying woman.

Seppo raged through Juarag and Smelterborn alike with the rest of them following in his wake. Eva ran after Soot, searching for the rest of her friends. Sigrid and Wynn fought close together, the younger girl giving a good account of herself against a larger Juarag man until Sigrid dispatched her opponent and came to Wynn’s aid. Ivan and the Scrawls focused most of their attention on the Smelterborn, streaks of fire and ice shooting through the middle of the turmoil towards the golems.

A Shadowstalker sprinted toward Eva and she raised her sword to meet it. Just feet away, the ground boiled and tore open in a chasm, swallowing the Smelterborn whole. Moments later, it smoothed over as if nothing had ever happened. Eva caught sight of Ivan and he waved.

Searching for Tahl, Eva spotted him only a few yards away. Flanked by Carroc — who held his wing at a funny angle — the pair faced off against a Juarag warrior and his sabercat. Screeching, the cat pounced and Carroc met it, rearing up on his lion’s legs. Long, dagger-like fangs and a wicked beak sought each the other’s throat, their claws and talons scrabbling for advantage.

Tahl moved like lightning, slamming his shield into the cat rider’s face and cutting deep into the man’s chest with his sword. Carroc and the sabercat writhed atop the soft loam, throwing tufts of grass and mud into the air. A second sabercat launched itself at Tahl’s back.

Eva screamed a warning, but it was too late. Tahl disappeared beneath the cat.

As Eva sprinted to Tahl’s aid, a red streak flashed through the air beside her. Fury hit the sabercat full force in the side. Just as the two animals tangled together, Eva grabbed Tahl’s arm, dragging him free of the awful fight.

Tahl’s breath was shallow and he moaned, knocked half-senseless. Eva paused long enough to check him for serious injury then rushed to help Fury. Before she could, a sabercat leaped into her path.

The beast was huge, its brindled gray fur covered in scars. Sinking on its haunches, the cat pinned its ears back and let out a whining growl from deep in its throat.

Eva raised her sword in a guard stance and tried to brace her wobbling legs. Yelling, she swung at the beast. The cat hissed at the tip of Eva’s sword flashing in front of his face. In a blur, it batted a massive paw at the blade. The edge caught, biting deep into the pads of the cat’s foot.

Instinct alone saved Eva. The cat shrieked in pain and pounced. Even injured, the brindled sabercat moved like lightning, and Eva felt a whoosh of air as she dove to the side. She barely had time to collect herself as the cat smacked at her again, tearing Eva’s sword from her grasp.

Weaponless, Eva froze. She dared not take her eye off the sabercat but knew she had nowhere to run and nothing to fight back with. The cat hissed and limped toward her. Eva took a faltering step backward and stumbled.

Soot came out of nowhere. Raising his hammer, the smith swung sideways, striking the sabercat before it changed focus from Eva. Twisting around to meet the new threat, the beast snapped at empty air with its long, horrible fangs.

Soot moved with a speed Eva wouldn’t have believed possible. Bellowing, he smashed the hammer on the top of the cat’s head with an awful crack.

The sabercat stumbled.

Thwack!

Eva’s stomach rolled at the meaty sound of the hammer smashing through the beast’s thick skull.

The sabercat collapsed with its mouth agape.

Soot tossed the hammer aside and rushed to Eva. Pulling her to her feet, they embraced, both of their chest’s heaving from fear and exertion. Pulling away, Eva saw Fury worrying at his dead opponent’s belly. Carroc let out a soft call, dripping blood from a ragged wing onto Tahl as he nudged his rider.

“Tahl!”

Eva ran to her beloved’s side. Groaning, Tahl sat up, gently pushing away Carroc’s beak.

“I’ll live, I’ll live,” he said in between coughs.

The surviving Juarag and their cats ran for the trees. Heaps of iron marked the defeated Smelterborn torn apart by Seppo or struck down from the Scrawls’ rune magic. A quick look told Eva all of her friends were alive, although she flinched at the number of Scrawls lying dead across the meadow.

They gathered together, the gryphons picking their way across the sodden, turned up ground. Fury, Sven, and Lucia all had various bites and cuts but none appeared too serious at first glance. Eva cringed at Carroc’s limp wing. By the look of it, he wouldn’t be able to fly until it was healed and rested for a day or two.

Wynn stumbled toward them in shock but, aside from a long cut down her arm, seemed whole. Spattered in gore, Eva couldn’t tell with Sigrid, but she acted none the worse for wear. Chel limped on a swollen ankle. Eva hoped Ivan would be able to patch most of them up, once he stopped throwing up from the kenning sickness and rested.

The surviving Scrawls walked from one fallen clansmember to another, using the last of their strength to heal those not too far gone. Out of the injured, Eva doubted a third would make it, even with the help of magic. She squeezed her eyes shut as the glade started spinning.

Rhys joined them, blood splattered across his bare, tattooed chest. He looked exhausted, but even more pained as he surveyed his clan’s dead.

“Ferike?” Ivan asked. The man shook his head and pointed to a pair of Scrawls pulling her body out from beneath a Shadowstalker.

“I am sorry,” Eva said, bowing her head.

“We have rid the world of some of its evil,” Rhys said. Eva couldn’t believe the change from his former jovial tone. “Do not apologize. It was not you, but the Juarag and Smelterborn who brought this upon us.”

“Should you ever find your way to Rhylance, come to the citadel in Gryfonesse,” Eva said. “I know it will not replace the fallen, but I swear to repay this debt any way I can.”

Rhys nodded but the hollow look never left his face. “I perceive that the road ahead will tax you enough.”

To her left, Ivan winced.

“We must gather our dead and return to the rest of our clan,” Rhys said. “Even so, we will give you what supplies we can spare. And our blessing.”

The Scrawl raised his hands, palms facing them and swung them away from his body, chanting as he did so. Eva felt a small warmth run through her and nodded in thanks.

As the companions tended to their wounds and washed the gore of battle away, the Scrawls’ dirges filled the meadow: songs of life and death that broke Eva’s heart even though she didn’t know any of their meaning.

A rough, untrained voice in their midst joined in. Eva looked in surprise at Sigrid, who stood next to Ivan and sang, eyes locked on the dead. No one spoke or moved as they continued, captivated by the raw, yet somehow lyrical, words and melody. When the song drew to an end, Sigrid bowed her head with the rest then turned and walked away, refusing to meet anyone’s look.

When they were ready to depart, Ivan stopped at the edge of the meadow. He raised a hand in farewell to the Scrawls, who had gathered their dead on pine bough litters and, still singing, faded into the trees. Plumes of acrid smoke rose from the flaming piles of sabercats and Juarag, drifting into the still air. Using the last of their strength, the Scrawls buried the empty husks of the Smelterborn after Seppo piled them together.

Evening set in and a quiet, peaceful calm settled over the meadow. The wind changed and blew the smoke to the west, filling the air with the cool, clean scent of new life and spring.

“We brought this upon them,” Eva said in a low voice. The guilt and grief weighed heavy on her heart.

“Destroy the First Forge, and we will avenge them,” Soot said. “That’s the only way to make sure they didn’t die in vain.”

Eva nodded but didn’t feel any better.

Chapter Eighteen

The following days stretched on, each longer than the last. The expanse of forest and mountains seemed never-ending. Even in the sky, there was no end in sight to the high country and Eva began to wonder if they would ever reach the eastern coast or Palantis.

Spirits remained downtrodden after the battle in the meadow. Most days, no one spoke more than a few muttered words and only when necessary. They continued scouting the surrounding country for Smelterborn and Juarag, but the land seemed devoid of any human life, even other Scrawl clans.

Before they’d gone their separate ways, Rhys provided them with a few supplies, dried fruits and hard cakes made from pounded acorn paste. After the terrible death toll the clan took from the battle, Eva was loath to take the food but knew they needed the added provisions. Although Rhys asked for nothing in return, the burden of guilt ended up a heavy cost nonetheless.

The weather grew cold, stormy and windy. The companions spent nights huddled around a flickering fire that Ivan constantly tended. Freezing and shivering, they ate their meager rations and whatever scrawny, winter-starved animals they dredged up in the high country.

Eva found some small relief lying in Tahl’s arms each night. Since leaving the Talon, they hadn’t spoken further about their engagement and no one else knew about it. Part of Eva wanted to tell them all, to talk with Tahl about their future together — a lone bright spot in a world of gray days and cold nights. Another part cautioned Eva not to get her hopes up, that the journey ahead was still long and fraught with peril.

The others huddled almost as close together as the lovers, a hodge-podge of cloaks, jackets, and pine serving as their shelter when the rains drizzled for days on end. One night, tossing and turning from half-dreams of the battle at the Talon and the more recent scrimmage in the forest glade, Eva could take no more.

Wrapping her cloak tighter around her, Eva joined Seppo on the edge of their camp. The friendly golem stood watch — a quiet sentinel in the wilds. The only sign of life in the golem came from his bright blue eyes peering into the forest night, searching for any sign of danger.

“You should be sleeping, mistress Evelyn,” he said in a low voice.

“I thought you might like the company,” Eva said. “It must get lonely standing watch all night alone.”

Seppo’s iron pauldrons rose in a shrug. “I am happy to do it.”

“Are you…” Eva searched for the right word. “Nervous? Scared? For what’s ahead, I mean.”

Seppo’s eyes rose to the dark night sky above as if seeking an answer there. “I do not know,” he said at last. “I am…confused. I still recall my life as Talus in fragments. I have felt more…alive in recent months than ever before since Soot woke me all those years ago on Palantis.”

“Do you remember what it was like to be human?” Eva asked. As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Seppo let out a sigh and his metallic voice held a note of sadness and longing. “The things I remember are strange: the feel of the sun on my face, water running through my hands, grass beneath my feet, the touch of a loved one — I may be protected from age, disease, and weapons in this shell, but I have come to learn that it keeps out more than it lets in.”

Eva reached up and wrapped her hand around one of Seppo’s fingers. “I’m sorry,” she said, throat tight. “When you put it that way, it sounds like a terrible thing.”

“Once, long, long ago, I thought this was the greatest thing I could ever do for my people,” Seppo said. “Immortality! In my pride and vanity, I thought I would make us like the gods of Palantis. I thought I was a god — fashioning life eternal, cheating death and pain. How foolish I was.”

Silence fell between them, broken only by the faint chirp of crickets. Eva looked at Tahl and the others.

“It doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to want to keep the ones you love safe and with you forever,” she said.

“Ah, mistress Evelyn,” Seppo sighed. He bent down and, with surprising tenderness, plucked a budding wildflower from the edge of a rock at his feet. He held the new plant before him, bathing the delicate, half-grown petals in the light of his sapphire eyes.

“Love, happiness, joy — all the wonderful things of life are treasured because they do not last. Time may decay, but it also heightens, that most dear to us. When time is defeated, when moments such as those are infinite, they lose all meaning.”

The golem fell silent, leaving Eva alone with her thoughts. Eventually, he reached down and nudged her back toward the rest, who were still sound asleep.

“You had better get some rest, mistress Evelyn,” Seppo said. “We still have many miles to go.”

Eva started back toward her spot next to Tahl then paused. “Seppo?”

“Yes?”

“I love you. Thank you, for everything.”

The golem’s blue eyes flared brighter for a moment and he gave a brief nod. Although his helmeted head could show no expression, it sounded to Eva like Seppo was smiling when he replied.

“You are most welcome.”

The next few days were spent wandering and retracing their tracks, up rocky heights where the snow held firm and down into mist-covered valleys. The clouds rolled in and fog settled over everything until they couldn’t even fly the gryphons clear of the haze. Unable to fly for more than a few hours, Carroc stumbled along on the ground with them, making the going even slower. At last, after four days of wandering, Soot threw down his cap in disgust.

“I can’t make heads or tails of anything in this sky-cursed soup!”

Eva could tell he was angry at himself for letting them down and thus irritable overall. “We’re going to have to wait it out, or I’m apt to lead us right off the edge of a cliff. We could be headed north into the Endless or straight south to the Ice Mountains for all I know.”

They hunkered down in a valley by a river, each snapping at one another with nothing to do but dwell on their thoughts and succumb to boredom and irritation. When at last the sun shone clear, and they could fly the gryphons out of the forest canopy and valley, Eva had never been gladder to be in the sky.

Once again, she marveled at the glorious sights flying brought. Never ending, forest-coated mountains stretched in every direction, cut here and there by the river they’d been camped by as it wound its way to the east. Soaring through the clear blue skies, Eva took a moment to close her eyes and soak in the pale sunlight, glad to be free of the dreary gray smog. Even Carroc seemed to find renewed strength in his injured wing — Eva heard Tahl let loose a shout of joy and his white gryphon stretched his wings. He was almost back to normal thanks to Ivan’s diligent care.

When they landed and reported what they’d seen to Soot, he clapped a hand to his head.

“Of course — what a windblown idiot I am!” he said. “We followed this river on the expedition — if we keep on going, it should open into a lake surrounded by cliffs. The low country is less than a week’s travel away, on the other side of that lake.”

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before they spotted twin gray peaks split down the middle by a river gorge. The entire mountain chain rose so high that the tops were obscured by lofty, white clouds. As they drew closer, the canyon walls grew narrower and narrower, until they were forced to go single file on a footpath cut by wildlife down one side of the gorge. The roar of the water echoed on the rocks loud enough that they had to shout to be heard over its rushing waters. Eva glanced over the side and saw a raging current, hurtling trees limbs and chunks of ice smashing into the rock walls. From their vantage, it was a straight fall down, hundreds of feet to the turbulent river below.

“I think I’ll fly over,” Wynn said, peering down into the canyon below.

Soot shook his head. “Not a good idea. Last time we came through, Uthred almost got thrown off his gryphon trying.” The smith pointed a gnarled finger up at the mountain peaks far, far above. “Canyon’s too narrow to fly through and the winds up there are storming wicked — the gryphons’ll have a rough enough go getting over on their own without the extra weight.”

Eva looked at Tahl and saw concern for Carroc heavy on his face. But Soot refused to be swayed and they set about removing as much gear from the gryphons as they could carry. When they finished, Eva looked Fury in the eyes. “I know you — don’t be showing off up there and get hurt.”

The red gryphon rolled his head in a show of exasperation. Eva jerked on one of his lines to show she meant business. “I mean it, be careful. And take care of Carroc.”

Fury bobbed his head and Eva threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug. Like usual, Fury twisted in her grip but Eva held on until he relaxed and wrapped his beak around her shoulder to return the gesture.

“See you on the other side,” she said.

They waited for the gryphons to take flight. As Fury and the others grew smaller and smaller, Eva couldn’t help but notice the tug of a breeze. She reached out and gave Tahl’s hand a reassuring squeeze before turning to the canyon.

Seppo led the way. Although he technically had no reason to fear falling, his width forced him to edge along sideways, arms extended against the wall of the gorge. The rest followed close behind, Soot behind the golem. Chel brought up the rear, clutching the wall much the same as Seppo, although she had ample room to walk normally.

“What do you suppose we do if the trail ends?” Wynn asked, yelling to be heard over the crashing river. The wind had also increased in the tunnel and tugged at Eva’s hair. She didn’t want to think what it might be like up near the mountain peaks.

Eva glanced back and saw the look of terror on Chel’s face and shook her head at Wynn. She wished she could make her way back to give the other girl some comfort and encouragement, but there was no way past the line of people between them. Instead, she motioned to Sigrid to offer her adopted sister some comfort.

“Don’t worry — the fall alone would probably kill you,” Sigrid yelled over the wind and water.

It didn’t seem possible, but Chel’s eyes grew even wider. Eva shot Sigrid a reproachful look. Rolling her eyes, Sigrid grabbed Chel’s arm and gave her a gentle tug.

“Come on, I’ve got you.”

As they continued in a long, slow procession, one careful step after the other, Eva realized the trail was narrowing. Eventually, Seppo had to press himself against the rock, sending occasional showers of pebbles down into the gorge whenever his heavy iron feet stepped on the edge. Even the humans turned sideways, and Eva found it hard to imagine flying through rough winds could have been worse than their current predicament.

A few yards later, the rock wall and the pathway grew slick with water. Craning her head up, Eva saw snowmelt trickling down the sheer cliff above. The thin path grew treacherous and their progress slowed by half. Eva worried about Chel, but there was no way to see back through the line of people to tell how she fared.

The sound of clattering rock froze them in place. Eva twisted around to look up, but Soot grabbed her arm and yanked her down into a squat.

“Don’t look up, cover your head!”

Sure enough, a small slide of pebbles and fist-sized rocks rained down on them, the larger ones bouncing off the cliff far enough above to shoot out over them into the empty air above the river. They waited several moments until they were sure the slide had stopped before rising again.

An angry, shrieking wind picked up, ripping down the canyon and threatening to pry them from the cliff. Seppo managed to block the worst of it, but a couple of strong gusts left Eva clutching whatever handhold in the rocks she could find with her numb fingers. Eva shivered from the cold gusts, back soaked from the melting snow running down the back of the cliff. The sky above was nothing more than a narrow slit between the looming rock walls.

Morning turned into afternoon with no end in sight. At last, when Eva feared the path would end altogether and they would be forced to backtrack and find another route, they made a long sweeping turn to the north and caught a glimpse of an ice-covered lake.

“We’re almost there now!” Soot yelled over the howling wind. “About a hundred more paces and the path widens!”

A crack of thunder burst above them.

“Duck!” Eva yelled. She crouched down as far as she could, cowering beneath her arms as snow, rock, and ice chunks cascaded down. The thunderous roar grew, accompanied by waves of heavy, wet snow — an avalanche. Just when Eva thought they would be swept away or buried, however, the slide began to slow.

Someone screamed behind Eva and her stomach seized in hot panic.

“Chel fell off the path!” Sigrid shouted. “I can’t reach her!”

Eva shook the snow off her head and wiped her face, heart hammering. From her vantage, she could just see Chel clutching the cliff edge a few feet below the path where she’d been knocked down by the snow and debris.

Without a word, Seppo twisted around so his back was to the to the gorge and dropped off the ledge. He used his hands to pull himself toward Chel while Sigrid stretched out in a useless attempt to reach her.

Halfway to Chel, the rock path crumbled underneath his iron grip and Seppo slipped. Eva gasped. Showing surprising nimbleness, Seppo found a toehold and continued along. Although he’d covered half the distance, Eva still felt like Seppo was forever away. The wind shifted, and hungry, invisible hands tore at Chel.

“She’s slipping!” Sigrid screamed in panic.

“Ivan, can’t you do something?” Eva yelled over the roaring river and howling gusts.

The Scrawl shook his head. “I’d be just as likely to knock her off as help!”

With Seppo still an arm’s length away, Chel’s fingers finally lost purchase on the slick, jagged rock. She fell.

Roaring, Seppo vaulted from his foothold on the cliff and snagged Chel’s wrist as she plummeted down to the river. Stretching out his hand, the golem clawed and dug into the crumbling cliff until he stopped sliding a short distance below the path but even farther out of reach than before.

As the rock gave way beneath his vice-like grip, Seppo swung a screaming Chel like a pendulum. Eva stretched out as far as she could and Soot wrapped himself around her legs, allowing her to descend another couple of feet.

Seppo swung again and released.

Chel shot up into the empty air like she’d been launched from a catapult.

Eva stretched with all her might.

Their arms grasped for one another.

For a brief instant, Eva feared Chel’s added weight would tug her from Soot’s hold. Instead, she felt them rising, her muscles screaming in protest at being stretched in two different directions. Roaring, Soot hauled them up to where Tahl could help pull them the rest of the way to safety.

Both women sobbed, chests heaving. When Eva opened her eyes and looked down, Seppo was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Nineteen

They rushed as fast as possible down the remainder of the path. Down below, the gorge opened up into the frozen lake and the steep, rock path widened into a long, sloping hillside. Eva sprinted down followed closely by the others. Reaching the inlet, she stopped at the edge of the rotted ice, where the roaring river met the lake. No sign of Seppo could be seen.

The gryphons met up with them shortly after. As relieved as Eva was to find them all safe and sound, she couldn’t stop thinking about Seppo. After a short rest, the Windsworn took to the skies above the gorge, searching for the golem while the others made camp.

Eva tried to tell herself Seppo would be fine, that he couldn’t drown and couldn’t break so the fall wouldn’t have killed him. But looking at the raging current, she imagined the golem stuck against a boulder beneath the water, the strength of the river pinning him in place. If that were the case it would be weeks — months, maybe — before the snow-fed river slowed enough for Seppo to fight free. Or, what if the current had pushed him all the way into the lake, under the ice?

Even if no one wanted to admit it, Seppo might be lost forever — their friend and their only chance of defeating the Smelterborn, too.

“It is all my fault,” Chel said, tears streaking her face. “If I had not fell —”

“Better the bucket head than you,” Soot said and then looked at the rest of them. “Seppo will be fine, you’ll see. We’ll make camp here on the lake shore and wait. He’ll turn up.”

But the way he said it, Eva wasn’t sure if the smith was trying to reassure them or himself. Although it was a good spot to make camp — the best they’d had for days, — and the weather remained fair and warm, Eva couldn’t help but feel like they’d lost the golem for good.

By nightfall, Seppo still hadn’t returned. A somber mood fell over them, darker than any since the Battle of the Talon. Trying to get her mind off Seppo, Eva wondered what was going on back in Rhylance. She held out hope that the Smelterborn had been forced to retreat before they reached the Gryfonesse.

They felt Seppo’s loss even more acutely when it came time to post watch. Saying he wasn’t tired, Soot volunteered for the first shift, situating himself in sight of the gorge. Eva’s heart went out to him — no matter how much the smith cursed and belittled Seppo, she knew he and the golem were the oldest and best of friends.

Before retiring, Eva excused herself from the rest and sat down in the loose pebbles on the beach beside her foster father.

“He’ll make it,” Soot said before Eva could speak. “You’ll see.”

“We’ll wait for him,” Eva promised. “We didn't come all this way to let a little water beat us.”

For a while, neither of them said anything, thoughts drowned out by the rushing river.

“What I wouldn’t give to be back at my forge,” Soot said at last. “When this is all over, a whole army of Smelterborn won’t be able to drag me out of it. I’m thinking about starting a garden in the back, by the stables.”

Eva nodded. “That sounds nice.”

“What about you, miss?” he asked. Soot jerked his head back at Tahl and the rest of camp. “Has the new queen found herself a king?”

Eva blushed and stammered, but Soot held up a hand. “The first time I met that kid, I was awful tempted to put a dent in his pretty face with my hammer,” he said. “But now, I can’t think of a better man to be by your side. I have a hunch your uncles — and father — would approve of him too.”

“Really?” Eva said a smile spread across her face.

“Really.”

Overcome with emotion and love for the old smith, Eva flung herself around Soot’s thick neck and buried her face in his burly chest . Soot returned the embrace and gave her a reassuring pat on the back.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Eva whispered into his hairy ear.

“Hey now, don’t go getting all soft on me.” Eva pulled back and caught Soot, wiping a tear from his eye. “You’re going to melt through my old iron heart.”

Eva laughed and then a splashing sound caused them both to peer into the darkness toward the river. Gravel crunched under iron boots and a large shadow loomed closer. Moments later, two bright blue eyes shone through the darkness toward them.

“Are you crying, Master Wayland?” Seppo’s metallic voice rang out in the night, incredulous.

“Am not,” Soot said, sniffing and wiping the back of his hand across his nose. “About time you showed up, I was just about to have to take your watch for you, you old rust bucket.”

“Seppo!” Eva yelled. She jumped to her feet and ran to meet the golem wrapping herself around his cold, wet, armored waist.

“I do not want to do that again,” Seppo said in a flat voice. “Please be more careful next time.”

Morning dawned bright and sunny, enlightening the cheer surrounding Seppo’s return. Foraging, Chel and Wynn managed to find some fresh tubers. Ivan used a bit of fancy rune magic to melt a hole through the ice and catch fresh fish. After short rations for days, the group gorged on the food, grateful for something besides old, dried provisions from the Scrawls and scrawny deer, elk or rabbit.

After they were all well fed, Soot gathered them around again and drew another map in the dark sand along the lakeshore.

“There’s only one way out of the eastern end of the valley,” he said, drawing a crude representation with his finger. “From there, it’s pretty straightforward. We follow the river through the eastern woodlands, all the way down to the sea. Move north along the coast until we see Palantis.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad!” Wynn said.

Soot raised his bushy eyebrows. “The woodlands are probably crawling with Smelterborn. The army might have even beaten us back. The Endless Plains are pretty much a straight shot across Altaris and even though the clankers are slow, they don’t rest. What’s more, there’s not much game in the woodlands — at least there wasn’t when we passed through and I doubt things have improved any.”

“That’s all, huh?” Sigrid said. “You make it sound like a walk through a field of wildflowers!”

Soot shared a look with Seppo. “You neglected to mention the Runefolk,” the golem said in a cheerful voice.

Everyone else shared a confused glance. “What are …Runefolk?” Chel asked.

Soot scowled. “Nasty little people. We ran into them several times on our first journey. As far as we could guess, they’re either the descendants of Palantine slaves or descendants of the Palantines themselves. Not every impressive offspring, either way. They’re more like little weasels than humans.”

“They pose no threat individually,” Seppo said. “Which is why they wait until your back is turned or they outnumber you five to one before attacking.”

Eva held back a long sigh. “Anything else we need to know about? Rivers of lava? Pestilence?”

Soot got the sarcasm but Seppo tapped a finger to his chin, apparently deep in thought. “No,” he said at last. “I think that is all. Until we get to Palantis, of course. Who knows what new dangers await us there?”

“Fantastic,” Wynn muttered, echoing the rest of the group’s feelings.

They packed up camp and the gryphon riders took to the sky, hoping to scout a path around the lake shore and out the other end of the lake valley. Reaching the eastern side, however, the beach ended abruptly. Flying over the lake’s outlet, they found the path heading east had collapsed from the cliffside. Sheer rock rose all the way around inside the caldera meaning the only way out would be by flight…or swimming.

“No,” Seppo said, folding his arms across his chest plate. “I am already rusting from my last trip underwater.”

“Oh you’ll be fine,” Soot said. “A little more water isn’t going to hurt you. But if you’ve got another suggestion as to how we’re going to get your iron ass out of here, I’d love to hear it.”

“I…” Seppo raised a hopeful finger and then sighed, shoulders drooping. “Fine.”

They all lined up on the shore to bid him farewell.

“You humans don’t understand what it is like down there,” the golem whined. “Like walking through tar — I sink up to my knees in that mud. And the fish! They try to swim inside my helmet. My armor fills up with water, it’s like trying to walk in a big wet coat while carrying two buckets.”

“Good thing you’re a wonder of ancient craftsmanship,” Eva said, trying to appeal to the golem’s pride. “If you weren’t so well put together it might be a real problem.”

“Hmph,” Seppo pouted. “Let’s just get it over with.”

They mounted the gryphons in short order: Chel with Eva, Soot with Wynn and Ivan with Sigrid to give Carroc a lighter load carrying just Tahl. As they rose into the air, they waved down at Seppo, who watched them go.

“Hold up,” Soot yelled once they were all in the sky. “I want to see how the big pile of slag does this.”

At first, Seppo tried to pick his way around the base of the cliff. He made it a stone’s throw from the beach before running out of hand and foot holds which forced him to retreat back to where he’d started. Next, Seppo tried to find a place where the ice around the shore wasn’t rotten. He stretched forth a toe forward like a cat testing a puddle. When that proved impossible, he raised a hand and, shaking a fist at them, waded out into the water. When he reached the edge of the solid ice, Eva was surprised to find it thick enough for the golem to crawl on top of. After bouncing a few times to test its strength, Seppo strode across the lake, eager to reach the narrow chasm where the lake spilled out into the woodlands beyond the caldera.

He made it almost two-thirds of the way across when the ice cracked and he sank to the waist. Seppo flailed, trying to pull himself back onto the stable ice, but the cracks spread. Moments, later he was completely submerged to his torso. He shook his fist at them again and shouted something Eva couldn’t hear. They shared a chuckle, which turned into an outright laugh, as the chunk of ice Seppo leaned on broke and he sank below the surface. After a few moments, it was clear the golem wouldn’t resurface.

“Come on,” Soot said. “He’ll be fine. No sense waiting around here.”

With a last look at the hole in the ice, Eva turned Fury eastward and they soared over the peaks of the mountains. For whatever reason, the winds proved to be much gentler on the eastern side of the rock rim. When they reached the peaks, a flurry of white puffs bounded across a narrow precipice. Fury’s head followed the mountain sheep and he dipped lower.

“You can come back and get dinner later,” Eva said, pulling up on the reins. As the shadows of the gryphons passed overhead, the animals scattered with incredible speed across the smallest of footholds.

On the other side of the mountains, just as Soot said it would, the land opened up into a wide park. After a steep drop through some rocks that would surely cause Seppo even more complaint, the river cut through open meadows fringed with trees. At the lower elevation, Eva saw many of the aspens and cottonwoods covered in small leaves — a sign of high spring.

She gazed off to the east, following the line of the river, before it disappeared into heavier woodlands, eventually winding out of sight behind a series of rolling hills miles and miles away. They landed on the banks of the river in grass already above their ankles. With plenty of food from the morning fishing, and young greens scavenged across the meadow, they made a quick sweep of the immediate area then returned to set up camp. With nothing to do but wait for Seppo, everyone relaxed for the first time in ages. The gryphons played, scrapping on the ground like overgrown kittens before shooting into the air to dip and twist at each other in mock battle. Soot propped himself up against a boulder and promptly fell asleep in the sunshine.

“How about a little walk?” Tahl asked Eva while the others each found various forms of entertainment.

“Are you asking to court me, sir?” Eva said in mock formality.

Tahl grinned and extended a hand. “Why yes, fair maiden. Tis too beautiful a day to pass without a stroll along yonder river.”

Laughing, Eva held out her hands. Tahl pulled her to her feet and they walked away from the others, trying not to draw too much attention to themselves. Passing by Soot, one of the smith’s eyes cracked open.

“Hey, you two lovebirds, stay within shouting range,” he muttered. “Just because the sun is shining and the birds are singing doesn’t mean it’s safe to start frittering around with spring fever.”

Eva rolled her eyes but promised they would. Then, unable to restrain herself any longer, she shot off, running through the new grass. She didn’t stop until she passed beyond a stand of bushes, hiding them from the sight of the others. Tahl tackled her to the ground as soon as she stopped. They rolled in a tumble and ended up on their backs, laughing and gasping for air.

As soon as he’d caught his breath, Tahl leaned over and placed a long kiss on Eva’s lips.

“That’s better,” he said when they pulled apart at last. They’d hardly found any private time in the last few months.

“We shouldn’t stay long,” Eva said after she kissed him again.

Tahl put up a finger to her lips. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Soot’s shouts recalled them back to camp sometime later and they came around the bend just in time to see Seppo sloshing out of the river. His dull iron plates were splattered with dark river mud that stuck to the golem like tar. Muttering, he peeled away as much of it as he could, disgust plain in his voice.

“Never. Again,” the golem said after emerging from the river free of mud. The sun soon wicked the water from his armored plates. Seeing them all trying to hide their laughter only soured his mood further. “I’m sure it’s all very funny to you. You’ve been lounging around here for hours while I slogged away through the muck and sand and river to get here. I’ll never get it all out of my joints.”

“It’s alright, big fella,” Ivan said, holding out a handful of young tubers. “We saved you something to eat?”

In a flash, Seppo swooped the Scrawl up in his arms and hoisted Ivan over his head.

“Put me down you storming golem!” Ivan shouted, flailing and kicking. As Seppo neared a small eddy carved out from the river he struggled even harder — to no avail.

“You wouldn’t dare — you don’t even get wet! Put me — AGH!”

Shrugging his shoulders, Seppo tossed Ivan into the frigid water. The Scrawl came up moments later, spluttering and shivering. The rest roared with laughter.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Ivan said. He snapped his fingers to heat his body, sending a wave of steam rising from his clothes. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t get a cough and die out here in the middle of nowhere.”

Although there were still quite a few hours of daylight left, they agreed to stay overnight at their current camp. As evening faded, thousands of stars streamed down overhead among a sky of deep purples and blues. They reclined back, staring into the fathomless beyond.

“The Juarag have a legend,” Chel said breaking the silence and surprising them all. She usually kept to herself, especially since the incident in the gorge. “Our shamans say that the Earth Father fell in love with Lady Night. He waited each day for the sun to rest, for the darkness to fall and the moon to rise. But no matter how hard he tried, he could never get the attention of Lady Night, for she was given to much mischief and trickery and toyed with his affections. After many years, Father Earth grew desperate for her love. In a last attempt to win over Lady Night, he scooped out the precious stones of the earth and flung them into the sky.”

“What did she do?” Eva asked, pulling Tahl’s arms tighter around her as she reclined in his lap, listening to Chel’s story.

“Lady Night was indeed pleased with the gift, but before she could confess her feelings, Grandfather Sun rose again in the east and chased her from the skies. She had waited too long. It is said when you see a star falling from the sky, that is Lady Night weeping, returning one of Fathers Earth’s precious stones to him, for she feels unworthy of such a great gift.”

Sigrid snorted and rolled over but Eva saw Wynn stare up into the night, mouth open. “What a beautiful story,” the younger girl said in a hushed voice.

Before Sigrid could come up with some snide retort, Eva looked at Ivan, who was sitting to her left. “Now that you’re dried off, how about a story, master Scrawl?” she said.

Ivan sniffed. “Huh.”

“Oh come on, Ivan,” Tahl said. “Don’t be that way!”

“Fine, fine,” Ivan said. He thought for a moment and then a smile spread across his face. “There was once a golem —”

“Oh, I like this one,” Seppo said, blue eyes shining across the fire.

“— there was once a golem who picked on folk smaller than himself and threw them into rivers —”

“Ivan!” they shouted in unison.

The Scrawl held up his hands as Seppo began to rise. “Fine, fine. A real story. What do you want to hear about?”

“A great battle,” Sigrid said.

“A golem!” Seppo said.

From outside the fire ring, Fury raised his head and let out a kree, signaling he wanted a tale about gryphons. The other gryphons added their calls to his.

“How about a story that’ll put you noisy bunch to sleep?” Soot huffed, his doze interrupted by the sudden ruckus.

Ivan tapped his finger on his tattooed chin for a long moment. “Alright, I’ve got one. This is the tale of Eleanor, the first Queen of the Windsworn,” he looked over at Fury. “And there’s gryphons in it, I promise.”

“You mean the Queen of Rhylance?” Eva said. “The Windsworn don’t have a queen, they have a commander.”

Ivan shook his head. “According to our records, in the first days the Sorondarans came to Altaris, their kings and queen ruled over both the people and the gryphon riders. It was only in the last few generations that the title was split.

“Eleanor was the only surviving daughter of the King and Queen of Sorondar. Her mother was killed in the great plague that caused the Sorondarans to flee their homeland and sail east. Soon after she landed upon Altaris, her father passed away as well, overcome by grief. Forced to lead her people in a strange new land at a young age, Eleanor didn’t know what to do or where to turn to.

“The Sorondarans made their camps on the beach for a time. Although there were little resources for shelter and they didn’t have much to eat, they feared a journey farther inland would be too hard on the gryphon eggs. None of the gryphons from Sorondar had been put on the ship, for the disease hit them even harder than it did the humans. The people hoped the eggs would hatch free of the sickness. There were less than two score in all, carefully tended all the way across the ocean.”

“Did they make it?” Wynn asked, even more enamored with Ivan’s story than she had been with Chel’s.

Sigrid tapped her on the back of the head. “Think about it! How else would there be gryphons if they hadn’t?”

Wynn’s face flushed and she fell silent, allowing Ivan to continue.

“As queen, Eleanor was the first to participate in the Choosing when the hatching time came. She carefully held each one, waiting for a sign that the egg was hatching, that the gryphon inside had chosen her. But each time, the egg remained still. At first, the Sorondarans feared the egg-chicks had not survived the journey, but behind the queen came others, and the eggs hatched for them.

“As Eleanor passed from egg to egg and reached the last few, the Sorondarans began to mutter among themselves. How could they be led by a girl who was not chosen by the gryphons? The eggs continued to tick down, one by one, until Eleanor came to the last one.”

Ivan paused and looked at Eva. “What color of egg do you suppose it was?”

She’d never heard the story before but Eva had a pretty good idea what the answer was. “Red?”

The Scrawl nodded. “It was the first blood egg — the only one of that line brought over across the ocean. Since then, the line of blood gryphons is a straight one, all the way down to Fury here.” He turned and gestured to Fury, who stretched his neck out and held his head high.

“What about Eleanor?” Wynn asked. “What happened next?”

“According to the legends, when her hatchling had grown large enough to carry her, she began to fly east, in search of a home for her people. They had lived along the coast for the first year and the winter hit them hard. Even with the help of the Scrawls, they did not fare well. Neither did the gryphons thrive in the coastland — they were made for mountains.

“Flying east, it is said Eleanor caught sight of the Gyr just before sunset, the last light of the day illuminating the mighty mountain. She flew all night toward the mountain until morning came and revealed it once more. The stories say she landed on the Gyr’s peak and declared the Sorondarans and their gryphons would never have another home. There are many stories that followed, of how Eleanor settled the Rhylance valley for her people and led them through famine, storms and even civil war to lay the foundations for your people today. She also trained the first generation of new gryphon riders. Although she was young and felt unready to assume the throne, she overcame all odds to be known as one of the greatest rulers in the history of your people.”

As he finished, Ivan looked Eva in the eyes and she glanced away while the others broke into applause. Wrapped in her thoughts, she hardly noticed when Ivan started singing a beautiful, haunting song about a Scrawl returning home to his beloved. Listening to the strange words washed away Eva’s anxiety and she looked around the fire, smiling. For the time being, at least, her loved ones were warm, happy and safe.

This, she thought, this is what we’re fighting for.

Chapter Twenty

Days later, signs of the ancient Palantines appeared along the river: ancient, toppled buildings covered in vines, bits and pieces of roads blanketed with moss and grass, and patches of clearings overgrown by wildflowers — all that remained, Seppo said, of once-fertile farmlands. Although Soot warned them to stay on guard, it was impossible not to enjoy the fair weather in the woodlands.

Not long past the feral farmlands, they spotted a small villa sitting atop a grass-covered knoll. The ruins stood watch above a stretch of overgrown fields divided by cracked and fallen stone fences. After flying ahead, Sigrid and Wynn reported the surrounding area devoid of Runefolk or animals. They met together at the top of the hill to survey the surrounding countryside with Seppo.

“This is incredible!” Ivan said. His eyes flitted from one collapsed building to another. Many were two stories high, including what looked to have once been a granary, half of its dome caved in and leaning across the remnants of the building next to it. On the other end of town, a lone tower about three stories high still stood, the dilapidated roof revealing a large tarnished bell at the top. Before they could stop him, Ivan wandered off, poking his head from building to building.

Eva noticed many of the buildings, as rundown as they were, looked very similar to those in the older parts of Gryfonesse. When she pointed this out to Soot, he nodded.

“Gryfonesse was built on top of an old Palantine city. Many of the buildings, including the citadel and parts of the outer walls, were just repaired, strengthened and expanded.”

While they were talking, the others started exploring what was left of structures.

“Not much left,” Tahl said, coming out of what looked like a small cottage. There’s a few rusted tools and things, but they’re far beyond use. Everything else has rotted away.”

“We should keep moving,” Soot said, scanning the surrounding lands below the villa. “We’re too exposed up here — I don’t like it.”

Eva followed his gaze. In many areas, the woods encroached on the old fields, providing plenty of cover for ambush. In the distance, a glint of silver marked the river, still winding its easy path east between hills and trees. She hadn’t realized how far they’d strayed from it until now.

“I agree,” Eva said. “We shouldn’t stay here.”

Gathering the others, she found Ivan last, climbing over a large foundation with only one wall remaining. On the inside, Eva saw a number of runes carved into a large mosaic. The paint was faded and chipped, but she could still make out most of the mural: it showed a series of white-robed people, holding out offerings to a woman clothed in flame, descending from the sun.

“One of the ancient Palantine gods,” Ivan said, stepping close enough to run a hand over the cracked tiles. “The Sun Mother — goddess of fields and the summer. I can’t believe it!”

The Scrawl knelt down below the picture to examine the runes. As he traced over each one, his lips moved in silence. When he’d finished the first line, Eva saw Ivan’s face go pale and he jerked his hand back as if he’d been burned by the stone.

“What is it?” Eva asked. “What does it say?”

“It is a sacrificial altar,” Seppo said. Eva jumped. She hadn’t heard the golem approach. “My people practiced blood sacrifice — our gods were never sated. We should leave this place.”

Seppo’s sudden, somber mood change made Eva nervous. She figured this must be the memories of Talus flooding to the forefront again and needed no further encouragement to get them moving again.

“Let’s go!” Eva shouted, whistling for Fury. “Time to —”

A loud clanging sounded from the tower. Spinning to see the cause of the nose, Eva caught sight of Wynn leaping from the second floor of the bell tower. The ancient bell peeled, the mournful song reverberating across the countryside. A moment later, its beam broke and crashed down. Whirls of dust rose from the skeleton of the tower as Eva rushed forward to help Wynn to her feet after the long fall.

“What in the sky were you thinking?” Eva hissed after making sure the younger girl was okay.

“I…I just wanted to see if it worked is all!” Wynn said, “There was a chain — I didn’t think it would hurt to give it a tug.”

“You storming idiot!” Sigrid yelled. “Next time do us all a favor and let the bell smash you!”

Eva turned to tell Sigrid to let it go, but Fury and then other gryphons interrupted her, letting out a warning call overhead. Falling back on their training, Tahl and Sigrid leaped on the back of their gryphons as soon as they landed.

“We’ve got company!” Tahl yelled once they’d taken off again.

“What is it?” Soot asked, shading his eyes to look up at them.

“Looks like a pack of those Runefolks you were talking about,” Sigrid said. Her voice gave no sign of panic, just mild interest. “Scrawny little things, anyway. We must have done something to tick them off, though — they’re coming out of the forest from everywhere.”

“This will be a sacred site to them, given the altar,” Seppo said. “It is time for us to depart!”

Loading everyone but Seppo on the gryphons, they took off. Just as Sigrid and Tahl reported, dozens of skinny men and women poured out of the trees about a quarter-mile away. Their hair was matted and wild, their clothes little more than raw hides stitched together. They were armed with rusted, ancient weapons: spears, crude bows, clubs, and hatchets. Eva didn’t need to see more.

“Let’s go!” she shouted, as Fury banked away toward the river, wings surging. Chel held on tight behind her.

With Seppo at a full run below them, they pushed the gryphons to their limit. Looking back, Eva saw the Runefolk stop atop the hill, screaming some broken language and shaking their weapons. Thankfully, they didn’t give pursuit. Even so, Eva kept flying until almost nightfall before making camp on a small island in the middle of the river — the safest place they could find.

As they made a meager, cold camp, Wynn remained silent, ignored by the rest of the party as they went about their different duties and assignments. While the others were preoccupied, Eva pulled her aside and saw the girl twist away to wipe her eyes.

“I know, I know,” Wynn said in a dull voice. “I’m a storming idiot.”

“There’s no harm done,” Eva said, “but I hope you learned an important lesson today. What one of us does can affect the entire group. Do you understand?”

Wynn nodded and Eva pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry,” the girl sniffed. “I’ll do better.”

“I know you will,” Eva replied, patting her on the back. “We’re all going to have to be on our guard, especially now.”

On edge from the day’s events, it took a long time for the group to fall asleep, even with the added comfort of knowing they were protected by the river and had Seppo watching over them. Without a fire, the camp felt dreary, even though the night proved to be mild. It took Eva a long time to finally drift off to sleep.

“Attack! Attack!”

Sigrid’s shouts cut through the night, immediately rousing everyone. Eva shot to her feet, trying to pull her sword free and untangle herself from Fury, Tahl and her cloak. It was the gray hour before dawn, but she still spotted several shapes surging toward them from the opposite end of the narrow island.

The others came to their feet, cursing and reaching for their weapons. Eva heard Seppo’s yell and saw a flash of the golem’s blue eyes as he threw himself at the Runefolk, throwing them aside like straw dolls. Hearing shouting behind her, Eva spun to find a man running toward her, his crude spear leveled at her chest. With no time for the fear to set in, she knocked the spearhead aside and killed the unarmored man with a single cut of her sword as he stumbled forward from his missed stab.

“They’re coming from all sides!” she shouted.

Not waiting for the next opponent to find her, Eva ran to the bank, hacking through two more Runefolk on the way. Yelling again, Eva tried to rally the others around her, using the intermittent flashes of light from Ivan’s rune fire to spot them.

Wynn and Chel joined her while Tahl and Soot stood together, cutting through more of the Runefolk as they leaped into the shallows from crudely-fashioned rafts. Behind them, the gryphons tore through another landing party, talons, and beaks making short work of the unarmored people.

Half-submerged in the river, several Runefolk crawled over Seppo like ants, screaming and beating at his armor with their poor weaponry to no avail. Reaching back, he threw two into the swift current. Ignoring those still clinging to him, Seppo waded to another raft and pummeled it to pieces with his fists. Eva, Chel, and Wynn ran to help Soot and Tahl. As soon as they arrived and cut down a couple more of the Runefolk, however, the savages retreated to their remaining rafts, the fight gone from them.

“Get outta here!” Sigrid snarled, slashing at the water with her ax.

Back on the shore, Seppo picked up the Runefolk’s dead bodies and unceremoniously dumped them in the river. Eva studied one of the men she’d killed. He had a ragged beard over a face spotted with sores. Crude rune markings had been painted on his face with what looked like blood. As revolted as she was, Eva couldn’t help but pity the primitive people — by the looks of it, they led a hard, unforgiving life. Once again, she felt an immense relief when everyone reported no serious injury.

“What in the blazes was that?” Soot asked. “Can’t have been the same ones that we saw back at the town — there’s no way they could have traveled that fast.”

“They must have seen us land,” Tahl replied, wiping a streak of blood from his cheek.

“Huh,” Sigrid said. “That’s the last time I ever pee in the middle of the night alone again. Next time I’m waking you up to come with me, Wynn.”

They all stared at her for a moment, everyone thinking the same thing but no one daring to ask. Finally, Eva — fighting to keep a straight face — spoke up. “You…you were?”

“Yeah, they caught me with my pants down, alright?” Sigrid snapped. “I told Seppo to look away, which is why he didn’t see them. Almost got an arrow in my rear!”

Ivan snorted and, like the first trickle of water in a breaking dam, they all burst into wild laughter. Sigrid glowered and looked like she wanted nothing more than to punch one of them in the face.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” she said, voice and temper rising. “It could’ve happened to anyone one of you!”

“I — I’m surprised you didn’t tell them to piss off!” Ivan gasped out. They roared again. Tears ran down Eva’s face and she fought to calm herself, knowing Sigrid was only seconds away from pummeling someone into the ground.

“I hate to interrupt,” Seppo said. “But it appears we have more company coming.”

The laughter died right away. In the gray dawn, Eva looked to the north shore of the river. Dozens of orange eyes burned like the fires of some hellish furnace. No feral, diseased excuses for humans these. They could only be one thing: Smelterborn, and plenty of them.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Storm it all,” Soot said in a low voice. Eva turned around and found just as many Smelterborn waiting on the southern bank.

“The Runefolk were a diversion,” Chel said, breaking the silence. “This is what was really waiting.”

No one spoke as the Smelterborn filed out of the trees and lined both banks, close to fifty in all. They were an array of all makes — wide, heavy plated golems wielding enormous swords, maces and shields three men couldn’t lift, lighter, taller scouts, with their long spears and Shadowstalkers, ebony armor soaking in the first rays of sun stretching through the trees.

“Any ideas, fearless leader?” Sigrid asked Eva. The humans and gryphons all drew toward the middle of the island and formed a half-circle, weapons drawn. The gryphons hissed and gouged the earth with their talons. Meanwhile, the Smelterborn just watched.

Eva could hardly believe they’d been laughing just minutes before. There certainly wasn’t anything to laugh about now.

“We get in the sky as fast as we can,” Eva said. “Seppo, you can outrun them, especially if we head downstream. We don’t stop until we lose them, no matter what.”

“No.”

Seppo’s voice cut through the silence as they prepared to break for the gryphons.

“No, what, you old bucket of rust?” Soot asked. “You got a better idea?”

The golem nodded. “You will run, I will stay. They are here for me.”

Studying the collection of Smelterborn, Eva got the sinking feeling Seppo was right. The golems’ flaming gaze seemed to track Seppo’s every move, studying their prey.

“Seppo, no,” Eva said. “We won’t let them take you.”

“You will find a way,” Seppo said. “It is better to live and fight again than die here, especially for me. They will not kill me. Ogunn needs me — he knows it. You must flee before he reclaims the stones.”

“We’re not leaving you,” Soot said, clutching the black stone in his hand. Red light pulsed between his fingers. “We’re in this together, dammit. You may have started it all those years ago, but we’re going to help you finish it. We’re going to see it done.”

Seppo shook his head. “Please, you must go now.”

Instead, Eva hefted her sword higher, the runes on the blade glowing in the presence of so many Smelterborn. “We’re with you,” Eva said. “They’re not taking you.”

As if hearing Eva’s words, the Smelterborn stepped off both banks, forming lines of five. Each step they took, the dirty water raged higher and higher passing by them like rocks in the current. Eva gave up her brief hope of the golem’s being swept away. After four steps, heads of the front line disappeared beneath the water, with more still coming off the shoreline. Eva gripped her sword tight.

Behind Eva, Ivan’s voice suddenly rose. In the midst of a kenning, he waved and twisted his arms and fingers, voice growing louder and louder. A rumble sounded and the water between them and the north bank began to spin, forming a whirlpool in the midst of the current. Various runes flared to life across Ivan’s body as he invoked their names. Eva saw one Smelterborn tip over and wash away, followed by another.

Ivan shouted louder and louder. His whirlpool raged but the Smelterborn still came on. Seeing them overcome the effort, Eva shouted for the Scrawl to stop. “Save your strength! We’re going to have to fight them!”

Seppo cracked his iron hands and swung his arms like a fighter limbering up. “Come on, slaves! Let us see if you can beat the First Golem!”

A Smelterborn’s helmeted head rose out of the water a stone’s throw from the island, followed by another. Roaring, the golem yanked the first Shadowstalker out of the river and hurled it downstream. Eva swung down on a Smelterborn just emerging from the water. Her sword cut through its head and the empty husk fell back as its spirit whipped by her. Without thinking Eva swung again, her rune sword slashing another’s arm off as it stretched out for her. Seppo wrestled in water up to his hip with two other Smelterborn, smashing them together before ripping the head off one of his opponents.

“A little help!” Sigrid shouted. Eva found them overwhelmed. Ivan desperately held back three Smelterborn on his own while the others desperately fought the rest. With no rune magic or enchanted weapons to help them, they could do little but parry the blows and do their best not to be crushed beneath the Smelterborn’s strokes.

A Smelterborn sliced through the air above Wynn’s head with a giant ax. Eva stabbed up through its back plate and Tahl smashed into the golem with his shield. The golem crumpled, falling on top of another.

No matter how well they fought, the Smelterborn still gained ground. Working in eerie concert, the golems drove the companions to the eastern edge of the island. With the gryphons grounded beside them, there was hardly any room to maneuver. The banks dropped off on both sides, forming a small bottleneck that Seppo did his best to fill with Eva and Ivan supporting him.

The urge to wield her Wonder and drive the golems back gripped Eva. In the past, she’d used it to fight the Smelterborn with great effect, but Seppo had cautioned her not to reveal the stone now that they knew its connection to the First Forge. Now, it looked like it might be their only chance of escape.

“We can’t hold!” Ivan shouted in between kennings. Even in the dim light, Eva could see dark rings under his eyes, in stark contrast to his paling face.

“Go!” Seppo yelled as he locked arms with yet another golem and hurled it into the deep water. “You must go before they get the stones!”

“We’re not leaving you!” Eva yelled. “We’re all getting out together!”

A pair of larger Smelterborn charged Seppo. The friendly golem met them head-on, his iron boots sliding backward in the sand as they bull rushed him and he fought to hold them back. While they were entangled, Eva cut through one, allowing Seppo to crush in the head of the other. The remaining Smelterborn paused, staring at them with burning eyes. Eva wasted no time.

“Everyone but Ivan get on the gryphons,” Eva said. “Ivan, Seppo and I will hold them here.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Tahl said. Eva shook her head.

“There’s not room for all of us down here,” she said. “You can protect us more up there.”

With one last look, Tahl swore and sprinted to Carroc. Sigrid, Wynn, and Chel mounted as well.

“I’m not going anywhere, missy.”

Soot’s voice settled a steady calm over Eva.

“They’ve got the numbers but we can hold,” he said. He thumped his large two-handed maul on the ground. “Come on you damn clankers!”

The Smelterborn held fast. Tahl and the others hovered overhead, no one sure what to do.

Their ranks parted, revealing a Smelterborn unlike any Eva had ever seen before. His armor was a dull black, much like the stalkers, but covered in so many runes they looked like veins of fire running across its body. He stood leaner than the regular Smelterborn, but thicker than the scouts — much like, Eva realized…Seppo.

She recognized the new golem, although he was much smaller than in her dream back at the Talon. Eva sensed the lights of her Wonder fading in the black-armored golem’s presence and felt the stone’s reassuring warmth flicker and snuff out. A shudder ran through her as its deep red eyes burned across her before settling on Seppo.

“Well met, Talus,” the new golem replied.

“Talus is dead,” Seppo said. “He died centuries ago, in the First Forge, as his creations should have.”

The golem flicked a hand away as if to toss Seppo’s reply into the river. “Such are the thoughts of narrow-minded men. Nevertheless, here we are now: master and apprentice. I don’t think I need to tell you I’ve been looking for you. Your work is incomplete, master. Much as I hate to admit it, my grand design cannot be finished without you.”

“Some paths are better left untrod, Ilmaren,” Seppo said. “Or shall I call you Ogunn?”

Ogunn/Ilmaren shrugged. “Nevertheless, it is up to great men such as us to go down them. And Ilmaren is as dead as Talus.”

“Whatever notions of greatness I once had, I know them now to be false,” Seppo said. “And whatever you are now, it is not a man.”

Ogunn clenched his fists and smoke rose from his armor. “I have not spent years hunting for you to trade witty banter. I no longer require living souls to create life from the First Forge. I have surpassed your wildest dreams.”

“You have made the First Forge into an abomination,” Seppo said, voice tinged with sadness. “We were men, Ilmaren, not gods.”

“Nevertheless,” Ogunn said, waving a hand. “I think you already know my new Smelterborn are flawed — they cannot be away from the sustaining power of the First Forge long enough to complete the conquest of my empire. You will return with me to Palantis and help my glorious future come to pass.”

Seppo shook his head. “I am afraid you are mistaken, Ilmaren. My memory was corrupted the first time I stopped your evil work. I no longer recall the secrets you desire.”

Ogunn threw back his head and laughed an awful, booming sound. “We shall see.” He pointed to Eva and Soot. “If what you say is true, I hope you remember for their sake. Otherwise, they will pay with their lives.”

“You can’t have him!” Eva shouted, filled with sudden courage. The Wonder stone glowed against her skin, so bright its golden, blue and pink lights burst through her tunic and chainmail.

Ogunn’s eyes fell on her and Eva felt the courage burn out of her like a hot blade quenched in oil. “I know who you are, girl,” the golem said, voice dropping to a low hiss. “You’re the waif who destroyed my host — that pathetic woman, Celina. And it was you who aided the thief who stole the Deimos from me. You will pay for your impudence.”

Soot growled, twisting his hand around his mattock. Ivan clenched his fists and they flared with a cold blue light. Both stepped forward as if to shield Eva.

“You will not harm them,” Seppo said.

“I know the stones are here, both the Deimos and Aithos. They call to us — do you not feel it, master?” Ogunn’s eyes flared and fire spat out of his helmet as he spoke. “I will have them…now!”

“Run, mistress Evelyn!” Seppo shouted.

The two golems collided.

Eva stumbled backward, staring at the titanic battle between Seppo and Ogunn. Unlike the other Smelterborn, Ogunn was an even match for Seppo, if not stronger. As the golems locked arms, a screech of clashing metal reverberated over the river.

“We can’t help him now!” Soot yelled, pulling a struggling Eva toward Fury.

Eva continued to fight but couldn’t break free of Soot’s iron grip. Seppo and Ogunn exchanged hammer-like blows strong enough to fell a horse. While they pummeled one another unceasingly, the rest of the Smelterborn closed in on Eva, Soot, and Ivan.

Now other Smelterborn joined the fight against Seppo, raining blows down on his back and sides while he struggled to hold Ogunn at bay. One last wild punch from his former apprentice knocked Seppo to the ground.

“No!” As Fury landed, Eva wrenched free from Soot, rushing to Seppo.

Eva slashed through one scout with her rune blade and then another, but the rest of the Smelterborn fell in a circle around Seppo and their master, an impenetrable wall of iron.

Eva turned just in time to see a Smelterborn swinging its shield at her. She attempted to parry with her sword but the blow launched her backward through the air and she landed hard on her back, gasping for air. Fury leaped and landed at Eva’s side as Soot rushed forward, armed with only a hammer.

The smith struck the Smelterborn once. The golem used his shield to shed the blow like it was a child’s toy. In the same motion, it swung its other arm in a backhand and Soot went flying into a motionless heap on the sand.

While Tahl rushed to drag the unconscious smith onto the back of Carroc, Ivan dispatched the golem with a blast of ice to the face. The exertion left him doubled over, completely drained.

Dazed, Eva lifted a hand to her forehead and her fingertips came away wet with blood. Her world spun as Wynn and Chel yelled at her to get on Fury. Next thing she knew, she was slumped over the saddle, Chel holding her in place.

Roaring, Ogunn pushed his way through the throng. Eva caught a brief glimpse of Seppo lying on the ground, alive, although he was held immobile beneath the weight of a dozen Smelterborn as the golems wrapped him in chains.

“STOP THEM!”

Ogunn lunged for Fury as the red gryphon rose into the air. Eva felt a jerk as the golem’s hand wrapped around Fury’s tail.

Like a bolt from a ballista, Sven struck at full speed. Fury screamed and pulled free, wings heaving to rise out of the golem’s reach. As Sigrid and Sven crashed in a tangle with Ogunn, Eva’s senses cleared.

“Sigrid, get out of there!” she screamed. She tried to urge Fury back to the fight but he refused.

Sven clawed and gouged at Ogunn with his talons and beak. Once free from her leg harness, Sigrid dropped down and drew both axes, hacking at the surrounding Smelterborn. Roaring like a thousand blast furnaces, Ogunn’s fist smashed the top of Sven’s head. The gray gryphon crumpled and lay still.

Seeing her gryphon fall sent Sigrid into a rage. She charged at Ogunn, axes swinging. Knocking aside her blows with one arm, the black golem reached down and plucked her off the ground by the neck. For a moment, Sigrid’s eyes — wide as the iron fist choking the life out of her — met Eva’s. She managed a tiny nod against Ogunn’s grip.

Eva screamed and tried to jump from Fury as the gryphon pulled farther away from the island. Chel wrapped her arms around Eva and held her in the saddle.

Ogunn lifted Sigrid high above his head. She kicked one last time before her body went limp. The black golem tossed her to the ground.

Sigrid hit the earth in a crumpled heap beside Sven. Neither stirred.

Staring up at Eva with his raging crimson eyes, Ogunn waved a hand in farewell as Fury flew away.

Chapter Twenty-Two

They flew throughout the night and well into the next day. When the gryphons could go no further, they half-landed and half-collapsed in a giant field of wildflowers. Eva and Chel slid from Fury’s back in silence. Through the haze of fatigue and heartbreak, Eva managed to unsaddle Fury, letting the gear slide from the gryphons back into a pile on the ground. She slumped to the ground beside the gear and pulled her legs in tight to her chest. A shiver coursed through her, although the sun shone bright.

Tahl sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her. “Eva…”

She shook her head. Ivan, Chel, and Wynn sat down nearby. All at once, like a great dam breaking, Eva felt tears she didn’t know she had left in her pour out. Sobs rose from the others.

“Get some rest,” Soot said after they’d cried themselves into a depressing silence. “I’ll take the first watch.”

Eva nodded, weary beyond measure. Despite the hurt inside, sleep overtook her and she slumped into oblivion.

The sun dipped down over the tree line to the west by the time Eva awakened. The rest were already up, going about a random assortment of chores — repairing gear, sharpening weapons, tending to wounds. Eva looked over at the three gryphons resting nearby, in mourning as much as the humans. Sven’s absence brought another fresh wave of pain. Sigrid, who had fought together with Eva through everything, Sigrid who feared nothing and no one — was gone.

Eva rose and walked to Fury. The gryphon stood and uttered a soft peep as she drew close. She half fell into him, wrapping her arms around his feathered neck. When she pulled back, the pain and hurt were clear in his eyes as well. The two of them had known Sigrid and Sven almost as long as each other — flown together, fought together, suffered and triumphed together.

When Eva turned around the others were watching her, as if she had an answer, as if she could be the strong one. Fortunately, Soot took charge. He was Eva’s last remaining pillar of strength.

“Ogunn needs the stones as much as he needed Seppo,” the smith said. “The Smelterborn won’t be able to make it back to Palantis before we can fly there — there’s still a chance.”

A chance. Sigrid hadn’t had a chance against Ogunn. Had she known that? Had she known that saving Eva’s life would cost her own? Eva knew if she’d just listened to Soot and Seppo, just done what the others told her and left, that Sigrid would be alive. Every time she closed her eyes, Eva saw Sigrid hanging from Ogunn’s grasp before being cast to the ground like a straw doll, her life snuffed out in a few heartbeats.

“Eva!” Soot said, in a loud, but not unkind voice that momentarily drew Eva from her thoughts. She shook her head and looked up, trying to focus on the setting sun shining off her foster father’s bald head. “I know it hurts. But we can make their sacrifice mean something if we destroy the First Forge.”

Eva nodded. Inside, however, she wondered how high the cost of victory would be. Sigrid and Sven, Aleron and Sunflash, Adelar and Justicar, the soldiers and gryphons at the Talon, the Scrawls in the meadow and countless others — the blood price was already terrible to reckon.

Eva did her best to edge those thoughts aside as Soot continued.

“We’re only a few days from the coast, I think,” Soot said. “And we’re not that far south of Palantis. If we keep an eye out for other Smelterborn patrols and Runefolk, we should be able to make it to the ocean without a fight. They’ll know we’re coming, though. Be expecting us now.”

Eva tried to sort through everything Soot had just said and she saw the same empty looks on the others’ faces as well.

“Now is not the time to grieve,” Soot said. “Right now, we’ve got to get back on the gryphons and —”

“For sky’s sake, do you hear yourself?” Tahl yelled. “Have you no heart? We just lost one of our riders, one of our sisters, and you’re talking about getting to that storm-cursed island like nothing happened!”

Soot gritted his teeth and grabbed Tahl by the collar. Veins popped out the sides of his bald head as he lifted the slighter, younger man off the ground.

“I’ve lost plenty of friends myself, boy. We left Seppo back there too, if you don’t remember. Either we sit here and wallow in our misery or we can make their lives count for something.”

He finished speaking and released Tahl, with a shove. The younger man stepped forward and raised his fists, but Eva jumped between them, hands pushing both of their chests.

“Stop!” she screamed. “Stop it! This doesn’t solve anything. We have enough enemies to fight without fighting each other.”

Eva looked at Tahl and Soot then the others. “We’ve got to keep moving. We’re going to finish this. For Sigrid… for everyone who has died because of Ogunn and his Smelterborn.”

The days blended together in a wash of grief. When at last they reached the coast, Eva stared out over the empty horizon but felt no joy. Burdened with guilt, she wanted nothing more than to destroy the First Forge — any thought of what might come after that evaded her. Home? Sigrid and Sven would never go home.

Soot joined her on the beach while the others set up camp. Together, they listened to the sound of the slate-colored waves crashing into the shore.

“Never thought I’d see this damn ocean again,” he said. A long pause ensued.

“It’s hard,” he continued, “to live with all those thoughts and feelings after the people attached to them are gone. I used to curse the day we came to this storming place, but then you know what I realized?”

Eva shook her head, throat tight, unable to speak even if she had known what to say.

“I realized,” Soot said in a thick voice. “That if I’d never come here, I’d never have been able to raise you. And that…that alone makes it all worth it, Eva.”

Unable to stem the tide, Eva burst into tears. She wrapped herself around Soot and buried her face in his broad chest. Eventually, his reassuring pats calmed her.

“I know things look awful grim right now, but we’ll get through it,” Soot assured her. “You know what they say about the strongest steel?”

Eva lifted her face to look at her foster father. It was a line he’d repeated hundreds of times to her growing up. She knew it by heart:

“It comes from the heaviest hammer blows and hottest fires.”

They took turns scouting in pairs up the coast, flying only a couple hours away at a time to ensure the path ahead was clear. The weather grew warmer and a haze settled over the area, obscuring everything beyond a half-mile or so. Eva worried they would get lost in the hot, sweltering smog that smelled of hot iron and ash, or come across a band of Smelterborn with no warning.

Their scant luck held out until, one day, the winds picked up and blew the haze out to sea. And there is was: hardly more than a smudge to the north, a collection of white ridges sticking out above the ocean.

“There you have it,” Soot said. “We’re still a couple days away from the closest point to the shore, but that’s Palantis.”

They soon spotted a number of Smelterborn patrols and were forced into a hiding place in the ruins of some building that Eva guessed had once been a dock warehouse of some kind. Although the roof had fallen in, the walls looked to be strong and it was large enough to fit them and the gryphons with room to spare. Most of the other ruins around them were little more than rubble and random blocks of stone, giving them a good view of their surroundings so that the Smelterborn couldn’t catch them unawares.

At first and last light, two riders flew out, soaring high above and searching for any sign of Ogunn and his Smelterborn returning with Seppo. Eva volunteered for the duty as often as she could. Alone with Fury, high in the sky, her problems, grief, and worries seemed distant. Each time they landed, however, it all came rushing back.

Smoke rose from Palantis day and night, spreading its murk out across the ocean and often obscuring the island until a sea breeze blew it away. It seemed to Eva that the land itself was trying in vain to erase all memory of the Palantines.

When Ogunn and Seppo failed to appear in the next few days they agreed to make for the island and wait there.

“The island is about ten miles long and three wide,” Soot said. “The main citadel, or what we guessed was the palace, is on the highest hill to the east. The city is ringed by a series of walls separating each district as you move uphill toward the palace. There are four in all. The first is a seawall — not much left of it. The next separates what was probably farmland from the third level, which had the largest number of ruins. We found Seppo inside a cavern within the third wall. The First Forge, if I had to guess, is somewhere within the third ring of the city as well.”

“Where is the best place to land?” Tahl asked.

Soot tapped on the right side of his rough map representing the eastern beach, behind the palace. “Here, definitely,” he said. “There’s a narrow gap at low tide between the farmlands and the cliffs still above water. I’m guessing it will be the least guarded spot on the island, at least until Ogunn returns.”

Eva studied the map, running over the plan in her mind. The full moon was only a couple days away, meaning they’d have enough light to fly after dark, depending on the winds and smog.

“We’ll go tonight and check it out,” she said. Wynn opened her mouth, no doubt to ask who ‘we’ would be, but Eva cut her off. “All of us, together.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Soot said. “Better rest up. Once we’re on the island, we’re in for it whether we like it or not.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Several restless hours passed by until the sun finally fell over the hills and trees to the west. The lack of any distinguishable landmarks left Eva anxious, almost as much as she had been crossing the Endless. She longed for the sight of the Gyr and the Windswepts towering into the sky, their steep slopes a familiar guide.

When night fell completely, they ventured out. Finding the coast clear, they mounted the gryphons and Eva felt a sharp pang from the all-too-familiar absence of Sven and Sigrid. Pushing these feelings aside in an attempt to focus on the task at hand, Eva clicked her tongue and Fury leaped into the air, scattering beach pebbles and sand in his wake.

The night remained mild, but as they climbed higher and higher to stay out of sight, Eva felt a chill in the air. She took a deep breath, glad to be free of the smoke and haze where everything felt cleaner and fresher.

They reached Palantis faster than Eva expected. It was the first time for everyone but Soot to see it up close. Even amidst the decay and destruction, the ruined glory that had once been the capital city of all Altaris could still be imagined. Now, however, the home of the wisest, wealthiest and most powerful people of an empire was but a sad skeleton of its former majesty and glory. Only one tower still stood at full height — a stubborn, ancient, and weathered lord scowling down on the pathetic remnants of his subjects.

A waterfall sprang from the rock just below the palace gates and ran in a straight line down through each of the city’s rings until it emptied into the ocean. Just as Soot said, Eva saw the skeletons of the walls, crumbling into mounds. Even so, they formed almost perfect circles an equal distance apart all the way around the island. Eva couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship that had gone into building the city.

But no matter how skilled its master builders might have been, Palantis still bowed before all-powerful time. The city’s once-magnificent structures were reduced to piles of stone, cracked and overgrown with vines and moss. The outer, undeveloped land sported overgrown, tangled orchards and weed-choked fields. Eva noticed the trees were barren, black and gray as if they’d been burnt and never recovered. Even the fields, separated into square parcels by low, stone walls, only grew clumps of faded, gray-brown grass. Palantis, it seemed, had poisoned itself.

As expected, Smelterborn filled the ruins. Many stood almost motionless and Eva mistook the first few for statues. Others were hard at work, clearing aside the rubble to fill in the many gaps and fallen parts of the inner wall. For all their might as war machines, the Smelterborn’s building prowess left much to be desired. In many places, Eva saw the golems’ primitive patch jobs had already collapsed. It seemed fitting that such instruments of death and destruction would be incapable of creating.

The First Forge sat in the middle of the ruined palace courtyard, a monstrous furnace crafted from the same hue as the Smelterborns’ armor. Harsh runes circled the domed top and ran down the side, glowing orange and red. Eva shuddered, thinking of the death and destruction the structure had caused in its lifetime. The smelter burned so hot she could feel the heatwaves in the air, like an updraft in the middle of summer. Eva’s Wonder pulsed and vibrated, offering no comfort for the darkness seeping over her spirit. She looked away but knew the sight would be burned in her mind forever.

Just as Soot predicted, the small beach below the eastern cliffs was empty. After two passes to be sure, Eva directed Fury into his descent.

On the ground, Eva patted her faithful gryphon, taking note of the sweat marks darkening Fury’s fur from the arduous flight. Fury opened his beak and panted. Carroc and Lucia were in a similar state. Eva’s heart went out to the proud creatures as she noticed again the toll the journey had taken on them.

“Have a rest, boy,” she said, scratching Fury behind the ears. “You’ve earned it.”

Crossing the pale, slate-colored sand, the thought crossed Eva’s mind that, one way or the other, this was it. All the heartbreaking miles and battles came down to one thing: destroying the First Forge or dying in the attempt. One look at Soot, Ivan, Chel, Wynn, and Tahl told her they all harbored similar thoughts.

They made camp at the base of the cliffs, picking their way through giant slabs of fallen rock until they found a bit of high ground large enough for the gryphons to lie down. Unable to light a fire for fear of being seen, they shared a dinner of cold, stale rations. Eva realized they would be hard-pressed to avoid starvation if they had to make a return journey. She told herself to worry about one thing at a time.

“What do we do now?” Chel asked.

Soot and Eva shared a look. “You’re the one who’s been here before,” Eva said. “How do we find the First Forge?”

“And how do we destroy it?” Wynn asked.

Soot jerked a thumb at Ivan. “That’s a question for the Scrawl.”

They all turned expectantly to Ivan.

“How in the tempest would I know?” he said, throwing his tattooed hands in the air. When they continued to stare, he rolled his eyes and paused, gathering his thoughts. “Well…this is only a guess, mind you — but I would guess Ogunn will wait for the full moon before he tries to work the magic. The runes and kennings are more potent at certain times of year: full moons, new moons, solstices, changing season — you get the idea. Plus he still needs the two stones.”

“The full moon is tomorrow night,” Chel said, pointing to the waxing moon overhead.

“And I’ll wager it won’t take long for the Smelterborn to figure out the stones are on the island,” Soot added. “Ogunn will turn every golem out to find us.”

“So we’ve got one night to figure out how to save all of Altaris,” Wynn said.

“If that,” Tahl said.

Ivan gave a dry laugh and shook his head. “Well, if that’s all, it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Chel, seemingly sensing Eva’s distress, leaned forward and clasped Eva’s arm. Her calm, reassuring grip gave Eva strength. “We will do this, Eva-lyn.”

“Together,” Tahl said.

Wynn nodded. “For Sigrid.”

“For Seppo,” Soot said.

In spite of all they’d been through, Eva managed a smile. “Let’s get to work, then.”

Over the course of the next hour, they concocted a plan. Given that Eva and Ivan possessed the only means of destroying the Smelterborn between Ivan’s magic and Eva’s Wonder and sword, the plan hinged on them distracting the golems while the others freed Seppo. Once the fight began, the gryphons would drop in overhead. Between daylight and the full moon, they had no chance of using Fury and the rest in any sort of sneak attack — the Smelterborn would see them long before they could strike unless the golems were already distracted.

“It would sure help if that sky-cursed bucket head had told us how to destroy the First Forge before he went and got himself captured.”

Although he acted gruff and perturbed at the golem, Eva knew Soot worried about Seppo. No one had said it aloud, but they all had to have wondered: what would happen to Seppo when the First Forge was destroyed?

The pale moonlight provided plenty of light to scout the surrounding beach while the gryphons rested. Dividing into groups of two, they spread out and were careful to remain at the base of the cliff, away from any searching eyes overhead.

“Hey!” Wynn said in a loud whisper, rushing to gather the others a few minutes into their search. “You’ve…gotta….see this!”

They followed her and Ivan to a small cave opening, tall enough for the humans to enter — Soot would have to bend over a bit — but definitely too small for the gryphons unless they crawled in. Eva peered inside but couldn’t make out anything past the line of moonlight at the cavern’s edge.

“Where do you think it goes?” Ivan wondered aloud.

“You know anything about this?” Eva asked Soot.

“Hmm,” Eva’s foster father rubbed the scruff on his face. “There were a series of caverns beneath the palace. That’s where Celina found her gauntlet and Aleron that sword you’ve got. Might be this connects in with them. There were too many to explore, so it’s hard to say.”

“Doesn’t that mean it will be watched?” Tahl asked. “If Ogunn can sense the stones won’t he try to set up an ambush?”

“Still worth checking out,” Soot said. “If we can find a backdoor in — well, that’s better than rushing in, swords swinging at an army of Smelterborn. Besides, if I remember right, most of the tunnels were too small for golems.”

After ensuring the gryphons would stay once their riders disappeared into the cavern — it took some persuading to get Fury to calm down and accept being left behind — Eva took the lead. She held her Wonder cupped in her hands to illuminate the tunnel, shielding the light so they could barely see where they were going. Ivan followed close behind, a tiny ball of flame cupped in his hands. Soot brought up the rear after the others.

The tunnel ran up at a moderate incline for a good distance, the walls square and perfectly cut, just like the halls and passages in the Gyr. Unlike the Gyr, however, there were no crystal lanterns — either lighted or broken — along the way. Even with the dimmed light of Eva’s Wonder and Ivan’s flame, they tripped and stumbled, stifling curses. Even the slightest sound carried down the tunnels.

Eventually, the path leveled out and split into a chamber with four different exits, in addition to the one they’d entered from. Rune carvings marked the wall by each. Whereas the tunnel they’d just left had been cut with precision, the runes were jagged and chipped, as if someone had gouged them out of the rock with their bare hands, like digging into half-dried clay.

“Which way?” Eva whispered to Ivan.

The Scrawl walked up to each symbol and studied them in the flickering light of his rune fire. Eva saw his face darken upon the further examination.

“These are foul characters,” he muttered. “Old blood magic, like we found in the depths of the Gyr.”

“I’d say we’re on the right track then,” Soot said. “But which one do we take?”

Ivan studied the runes for another moment before selecting the tunnel second to the right. “This is our safest bet. I don’t understand the two on the left, and I definitely don’t want to find out what’s down the far right path.”

Recalling the series of traps in the bowels of the Gyr, Eva let Ivan lead the way to scan the walls for further markings and signs of snares and pitfalls they might set off. During the short journey she’d undertaken in the bottom of the Gyr with Tahl and Sigrid during her first year training to be a rider, they’d encountered collapsing floors, fake bridges, panels of spikes and a whole variety of ways to die in the mountain’s depths. One look at Tahl told Eva he was thinking the same thing.

The walls on the path Ivan chose were rough and gouged from the stone in complete contrast to the craftsmanship on display in the previous tunnel. The air, growing hotter and thicker, was filled with the same foul smoke they’d watched billow off the island over the past few days. Soon they all dripped with sweat and Eva would have given anything for a breath of fresh air.

All of a sudden, Ivan held up his non-flaming hand, and Eva almost ran into it. Wynn cursed under her breath as she ran into Eva’s back. Ivan lifted a finger to his lips and then held his other fire-filled hand up to his face and whispered something to the flame. It shrank further, giving off only the faintest flicker of light. Eva took the hint and tucked her Wonder into her shirt, feeling the darkness press in around them as she did so.

“There's something ahead,” Ivan said in a low voice. “Something moving.”

Holding her breath, Eva strained to pick up any sounds of something approaching ahead of them. A Smelterborn, she knew, could never fit in these tunnels, nor move silently but who knew what else might be waiting down here in the dark?

A strange, muffled whirring and clicking sound drifted toward them then went silent just as fast. They fell into complete silence listening for further noises. Eva felt her heart pounding in her ears, sensed her shallow breath hissing out of her, felt the beads of sweat trickling down her face. Silence reigned.

Just as she was about to nudge Ivan onward, the sound started again, lasting this time for a few seconds more. Ivan looked at her and nodded down at the flame in his hand as if to ask if Eva wanted him to increase the light.

Eva shook her head, although she wanted nothing more than to see farther than an arm's length in front of them. The clicking sounded again — a tapping noise against the rock. There was no doubting whatever it might be was getting louder and closer.

Eva drew her sword, aware of its limited use in the tight space. As she did, Ivan hissed. Down the tunnel, dozens of tiny, yellow eyes stared back at them from the darkness.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The eyes disappeared.

“Light now?” Ivan asked, a trace of panic in his voice. He stepped back and balled his other hand into a fist.

“Not yet,” Eva said, heart pounding even faster. Her arms felt like willow branches and she squeezed her sword hilt tighter.

The rustling grew louder, like dozens of tiny hammers clinking against the tunnel floor. The volume increased as well. Eva peered into the darkness, but the yellow lights were gone.

“Now?” Ivan asked, apprehension thick in his voice.

Eva hesitated. Behind her, the others shifted, trying to get into some semblance of a fighting formation in the close quarters. All of a sudden, the sound came not only from in front of them but behind as well.

“Now?” Ivan asked, voice cracking.

Eva tossed the decision back and forth faster than the tapping and clinking noise echoing all around them. And then dozens of yellow eyes appeared.

“Now!”

A blinding flash filled the tunnel as Ivan summoned the fire kenning and a ball of flame burst into his hand. The orange light revealed a horde of dog-sized mechanical spiders scuttling on the floors, walls, and ceiling toward them.

Eva bit back a scream as Ivan blasted the closest off the top of the tunnel with a fireball and summoned another to shoot at one on the floor. Eva heard the others struggling in the tunnel behind her, knocking into each other and the tunnel walls in the process of trying to fight off the spiders.

“Let me through!” Eva said, trying to push her way past Chel, Wynn, Tahl and, hardest of all, Soot. The burly smith swung his hammer, smashing a spider into a thousand bits of metal, gears, and cogs. Sliding past him, Eva stabbed out with her sword. One cut from the rune blade was all it took — the sword split the spider in half with ease. But they were fast. Eva barely managed to hold them off as dozens of the mechanical arachnids swarmed forward, reaching with long legs and razor-sharp pincers capable of shredding them to pieces.

Each moment stretched by as Eva cut through the spiders until she pinned the last of the swarm to the ground. It gave a feeble clicking noise through its metal mandible and shuddered before its many limbs went still. Eva sucked in a deep breath, sheathing her sword and shook her aching arms.

“Lovely,” Ivan said, kicking the blackened shell of one of the mechanical spiders. “We’ve got giant golems ready to pulverize us above ground and if that doesn’t work, there’s these little horrors crawling around to flay off our skin in the dark.”

“This don’t bode well,” Soot said. “There weren’t anything like these last time.”

“It would seem the Smelterborn have not been idle, then,” Chel said, doing her best to step around the metal corpses. She, Wynn, and Tahl hadn’t been able to do much in the close quarters but keep an eye out for any of the spiders trying to surround Ivan and Eva.

“Let’s keep moving,” Eva said. “We’ve made too much noise.”

Squeezing her way past the others to the front of the line with Ivan again, Eva followed the Scrawl. She saw the strain on Ivan’s face in the flicker of his rune-flame, the cost of the short but strenuous fight.

The tunnel twisted and turned past dozens of offshoots and dead ends, forcing them to backtrack multiple times until Eva hardly knew where they were or how to get back to the beach. As they continued deeper into the rock, the stone and air around them grew hotter and hotter. Eva started to wonder if they’d brought enough water or if they would lose their way and perish of thirst.

At last, Ivan’s light blended with an orange glow ahead which grew brighter and brighter until the Scrawl could douse his flame. Creeping forward, they saw the tunnel widen ahead. Eva held up a hand to keep the others back while she and Ivan peered around, searching for the source of the light.

The tunnel opened up into a large cavern, a sort of junction for dozens of other passages. From their vantage point high above the cavern floor, Eva saw dozens of Smelterborn working, hammering and heating rods of metal. They formed neat, orderly lines, each golem assigned to a different task. It took Eva a moment to realize they were working in a long line, each Smelterborn crafting a different part of the weapon, all the way down to a section of Shadowstalkers who handled the finishing work and sharpened the blades. The final resulting weapons were crude but made with incredible efficiency.

Eva raised a hand to wipe the sweat from her face — the heat from the room was stifling, making it hard to breathe beneath her chain mail, which felt like a hot blanket. Sliding back on their stomachs, Ivan and Eva rejoined the rest to report what they’d seen.

“I know where we are!” Soot said. “That room is part of the caverns we explored when we came to Palantis the first time.” He nodded to the sword at Eva’s side. “Your father found that in one of the antechambers. There were others, but none of us bothered bringing any — they all looked like a bunch of useless relics.”

“Bet you wish you’d grabbed them now,” Ivan muttered.

“We’ll have to backtrack,” Eva said before Soot could retort. “There’s no way we can get across to another tunnel without being spotted and —”

“Wait up there!” Wynn hissed. Eva shot her an annoyed glance but waited for the girl to speak. “You’re telling me there might be more enchanted weapons that kill the Smelterborn lying around and we’re just going to wander off to look for another passage?”

“We don’t have much time,” Soot said. “But the girl’s got a point — there’s a good chance some of the other relics could do the same damage.”

“If Ogunn has not destroyed them,” Chel pointed out.

Thinking back on their journey through the tunnels, Eva tried to figure out how long it had been since they’d left the gryphons on the beach. At least three or four hours, and there was a good chance it would take them even longer than that to find their way out. They were running out of time.

“If we can dig up even one more weapon, it would be worth it,” Tahl said.

Eva gave a reluctant nod. “Where do we go from here?” she asked Soot.

The smith thought for a long moment and then gave a couple of different guesses where he thought there might be other rune weapons. “Stick to the tunnels small enough the Smelterborn can’t get in,” he said. “If I remember right, that’s where most of the human-sized stuff was anyway, this must’ve been an armory even before the Smelterborn took it over.”

Although Eva hated to do it, she realized they would have to split up to cover the most ground in their limited time. Since Ivan and Eva were the only two with surefire means to kill Smelterborn, they headed the two groups. Soot went with the Scrawl and took Wynn, which left Chel and Tahl with Eva.

After backtracking to a previous split in the tunnels, Ivan marked runes into the walls for direction and they agreed to meet back in two hours’ time, regardless of whether they found anything in their explorations or not. To mark the time, Wynn and Tahl did the only thing they could to keep track in the sunless tunnels: counting.

Before parting, they all agreed that if the other party wasn’t back they would only wait a short time before making their way out to the beach.

“It’s the only way,” Soot said when Eva began to argue. “If we can find something to help us we’ve got to take the chance. But we can’t sit around and wait for one another — the risk is too great.”

After a quick goodbye and round of luck-wishing, they separated. Eva, Tahl, and Chel chose a path to the right of the one that led into the forge area. The others took a path to the left. Soon, the faint scraping of boots faded and they were alone, guided only by the soft glow of Eva’s Wonder cupped in her hands.

The tunnels here were once again smooth and straight, cut at angles rather than winding and curving. Eva thought back to the spider golems and wondered if they’d carved the other tunnel, digging away with their pincers and mandibles, creating an entirely new network of caves. She suppressed the thought of hundreds of machinations scampering around in the dark and focused on Soot’s directions.

After an hour or so passed, according to Tahl’s count, they came across several rooms that looked to have once been a barracks or soldier’s quarters, not dissimilar to those inside the Gyr. There were even crystal lamps fashioned to the wall, although none of them gave off any light.

A search through the first room found nothing but dust. Everything seemed to be rotted away. In the neighboring room, however, Eva spotted the corroded, pitted remnants of a suit of armor. She reached for the tarnished breastplate, frowning at the strange design and jumped back. The cracked and yellowed remnants of a skeleton poked out beneath the armor.

When she’d recovered from the unexpected scare, a look around revealed other soldiers’ remains. They looked hundreds of years old, only fragments of bones, skulls, and armor preserved by the cave remaining.

“If this was the garrison, there should be weapons around,” Eva said to the others.

They spread out and combed the tight quarters to no avail. Eva found a dagger hilt and what looked like the rusted remains of a sword blade, but they were so rusted away they wouldn’t have done any good against a mortal opponent, let alone the Smelterborn.

“I wonder when the last time was that a living human walked in here,” Tahl said.

The thought made Eva pause. She felt a small pang of guilt for rooting through the resting place of these people, no matter how long they’d been dead. They searched a few more minutes without any results. That, combined with Eva’s newfound desire to leave the remains in peace, sent them on their way.

Unlike the Gyr, whose tunnels often opened up into wide corridors and various rooms, the passageways beneath the palace were barely wide enough for two people to pass through. The thought crossed Eva that the ancient Palantines must not have been very tall because her head almost scraped the tops of the walls. Tahl had to duck and she couldn’t imagine what a pain it must be for Soot to wander through such confined spaces.

Although the heat from the forge faded, it never went away. Thankfully, they saw no more sign of the golem spiders and Eva wondered if they kept themselves to the darker, cooler parts of the caverns, even though they’d clearly been crafted by someone or something.

Their continued search yielded nothing. After crossing into a side corridor and coming upon their own tracks on the ground, the three decided to head back to the meeting area while they had the chance to retrace their steps. After all their searching, they had only sweat, thirst and a layer of dust and grit to show for it.

“It does not matter, Eva-lyn,” Chel said, sensing Eva’s disappointment. “We do not need more magic weapons to kill the iron men. It will be okay.”

Eva had her doubts, but she bit back a discouraging comment and hurried their pace. An anxious feeling overtook her and she longed to be reunited with the rest of the group and assured they were all safe and sound. It didn’t take long, now that they were no longer searching every room and side chamber to get back to the arranged meeting place.

No one was there.

Eva’s heart sank and she berated herself for letting the group split up. “I knew we should have stayed together,” she said out loud, slapping a hand against the rock wall. “I knew it. I just —”

Tahl took her shoulders in both hands. “Deep breath,” he said. “We don’t know anything has happened yet. Maybe they found something or —”

“Or maybe they were captured or killed,” Eva said, in a flat voice.

Tahl gave her a gentle squeeze. “We don’t know that. Let’s just wait a few minutes and see.”

Eva heaved a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. But the waiting proved excruciating.

With nothing to do to preoccupy their time, the three sat on the stone ground and checked their weapons. The task only took a few minutes and left them with nothing else to do but worry. Eva’s mind conjured dozens of different things that could have happened. What if one of them were hurt? What if they’d gotten lost? What if? What if?

“I can’t take it anymore,” she said after what was probably a much shorter amount of time than it felt like. “There’s no point in us waiting here, we might as well follow their tracks in and meet up with them. That way we’ll know for sure.”

Both Chel and Tahl looked like they wanted to argue, but seeing the determined look on Eva’s face they just nodded and followed her down the tunnel.

Like the passages they’d gone down, the amount of ash and dust on the ground made it easy to follow the path the others took. When they came to the first intersection, Tahl saw another of Ivan’s runes glowing light blue on the wall and felt grateful for the Scrawl’s foresight. However, the sight of the marking made Eva realize that if the others were smart enough to mark their path, the chances they’d gotten lost were slim. Once more, Eva thought back to all the traps they’d encountered searching the bottom caverns of the Gyr and feared the worst.

Unlike the passages Eva, Tahl, and Chel searched, the corridor the others went down didn’t seem to branch off into any rooms or antechambers. They continued to follow the tracks, pointed in the right direction whenever they came to a junction thanks to Ivan’s runes on the wall. Eva wondered how long before the markings would fade and hurried her pace even more.

Much to their chagrin, the air grew hotter again and Eva realized they were swinging back around toward the Smelterborn armory. Eva found small comfort that the tunnels remained too small for the Smelterborn to fit through. There was no sign of the mechanical spiders anywhere, either, or any other struggle.

After an hour, Eva’s stomach twisted as if full of snakes. She didn’t dare call out and they’d seen and heard nothing to suggest they were getting any closer to Ivan, Soot, and Wynn. She knew both of the others were wondering if they should go back to the meeting place and part of her wondered if the group might have circled around another route back and were even now back at the juncture, waiting for them to return.

“Eva…” Tahl began after they continued into what felt like their second hour.

“I know,” she snapped. “Just a bit farther and then I promise, we’ll turn back.”

Inside, Eva doubted they would come across anything but wasn’t willing to turn back yet. The tunnel widened. Eva’s stomach clenched even tighter when she realized the corridor they were in now could definitely fit a Smelterborn. To make matters worse, the ash and dust had been blown away by a slight breeze ahead, erasing all traces of their friends’ footsteps.

“Eva,” Tahl said again, this time in a much firmer voice.

“We should go back, Eva-lyn,” Chel added, although her tone was more nervous than insistent.

“I know,” Eva said, still walking forward. “ I just —”

She paused, mouth dry as the dim light from her Wonder illuminated an object on the floor. Rushing forward she knelt down, confirming her worst fears — Soot’s hammer.

The others joined her. No one spoke as they stared down at the smith’s weapon.

“Maybe…he left it here to mark the way so they didn't risk a rune on the wall?” Tahl said. Eva could tell by his tone that he didn’t believe it. They were in a long, straight hallway, with no offshoot or any possible way to get lost.

“It could be morning,” Chel said, rubbing her sleep-deprived, reddened eyes. “We may have less than a day to go back.”

“I don’t care!” Eva hissed with a venom that surprised her. Chel took a step back, the hurt look on her face falling into a scowl.

Eva paused and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But if there’s still time, we’ve got to keep going.”

Continuing down the hall, it wasn’t long before they came across another sign of struggle: a Windsworn sword snapped off just above the hilt. Tahl picked it up, face pale even in the darkness.

“Wynn’s.”

Eva drew her sword but the faintly glowing runes offered no comfort in the heart of their enemy’s domain.

They continued down the hall, which by now had grown into a corridor three times their height and almost twice that wide. The size was similar to some of the main halls in the Gyr, complete with columns down either side. Although the large passage looked abandoned, Eva kept the light from her Wonder cupped as best she could, afraid of revealing their location to searching golems.

The light spilled on a large form in the middle of the hall. Eva froze, heart pounding. After a moment’s studying, they walked forward to find the shell of a Smelterborn, followed by two more beyond. Their helmeted faces were still wrapped in ice.

“Ivan,” Eva muttered.

Bright orange light waved and flickered ahead out of a side passage, with an entrance wide enough for a gryphon to pass through wings extended. It was taller than three Smelterborn standing atop one another. Eva moved to one side of the hall, behind the columns, Tahl and Chel close behind. They flitted from one column to the next, hiding in the shadows.

At last, they reached the corner. Eva felt overwhelmed by the heat — even the stone wall was too hot to leave her hand on for more than a few moments. Blinking the sweat from her eyes, Eva peered around the gigantic arch.

The chamber looked like a larger version of the armory complete with anvils and a furnace several times bigger than the one in Soot’s smithy back in Gryfonesse. Smelterborn crowded the room, facing the opposite direction. They were circled around something, but Eva couldn’t see what.

“Are they in there?” Tahl asked from behind her.

Eva shook her head, hair lank and soaked with sweat like she’d been out in the rain. “I can’t tell, they’ve —.”

“Welcome,” a familiar, booming voice said, its words echoing throughout the chamber. “Welcome to the heart of my empire. I thank you for delivering the Deimos to me — perhaps I will make your deaths quick in return for this service.”

The Smelterborn jerked to attention and Eva got a clear shot through their ranks. Wrapped in chains, Soot, Wynn, and Ivan knelt before Ogunn. The dark golem paced back and forth before them.

Eva felt a burning against her chest and yanked her Wonder away from her skin. As soon as she touched the stone, Ogunn’s helmeted head shot toward them. Although Eva ducked away, she could feel his fiery eyes on her.

“There you are, skulking about my palace like a little rat,” he said in a rumbling voice. “Seize them!”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Run!” Eva shouted, turning and sprinting away.

Tahl and Chel followed close behind and together their feet pounded down the long dark hallway. Out of the corner of her eye, Eva saw dark shapes descending from the pillars on either side of the hall. Looking up revealed Shadowstalkers leaping from the heights where they’d been hiding.

Eva realized they’d fell right into the trap and cursed herself for being a fool twice over. Ahead, a line of scout golems ran toward them, metal hands empty of weapons, their arms stretched out to catch their prey.

Drawing her sword in mid-stride, Eva cut through the lead golem. Tahl and Chel managed to stay with her, dodging past the grasping arms of the other Smelterborn. Farther down the hall, Eva spotted more moving to intercept them. They were being surrounded.

The next golems forced Eva to a halt but she still manged to cut through two of the Shadowstalkers. A sharp cry rang out and Eva spun to find Chel on the ground, stabbing hopelessly at a Smelterborn that had its hand wrapped around her ankle, pulling her backward.

“Keep going!”

Eva ignored Tahl’s shout and slashed through the golem’s arm before stabbing it in its helmeted face. The Smelterborn fell down, its shadow shooting away as Tahl pulled Chel to her feet.

But the act had cost them precious time they didn’t have to spare. The other Smelterborn circled around, hemming them in. Eva lashed out at them, Tahl and Chel pressed close to her, back to back. Seeing the effect of her weapon, the golems hesitated. A series of thunderclaps burst through the passage and Eva saw Ogunn running toward them, as fast as the Shadowstalkers.

Desperate, Eva searched for a way out. In the darkness she could see nothing beyond the burning eyes of the Smelterborn.

With nothing else to turn to, Eva pulled her Wonder free. The stone gave a weak flicker.

“Come one,” Eva growled, squeezing it in a death grip. “Come on, shine!”

As if on cue, bright gold and rose-colored lights burst forth between Eva’s clenched fingers. The golems staggered backward, shielding their eyes. It was all they needed.

Eva cut her way past two golems, creating a gap in the circle of Smelterborn for them to leap through. Ogunn’s voice grew louder and closer behind them.

“Catch them! CATCH THEM!”

The thunderous noise sent bits of rock from the ceiling. Eva’s ears rang and she willed her burning legs to move faster, begged her aching lungs to suck in just one more breath. The light of the Wonder stone revealed the smaller passage less than a hundred paces away.

Risking a glance over her shoulder, Eva saw Ogunn gaining on them. Recovered from the stone’s effects, the Shadowstalkers resumed their chase as well. Eva allowed herself to believe they had a chance.

For some reason, Eva noticed the many cracks and uneven spots in the floor, minor details that hadn’t been a problem when they were creeping in the shadows, but now posed a serious threat as they sprinted over the broken ground.

Just as she leaped over yet another treacherous crack, Tahl yelled and went down hard to Eva’s left.

Eva skidded to a halt, boots sliding on the loose rock and dirt. Tahl pulled himself to his feet, holding one foot off the ground.

“Come on, I’ve got you!” Eva managed, gasping for air. She pulled on Tahl’s arm but he pushed her away.

“Won’t…make it,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’m not leaving you!” Eva screamed.

Chel stepped between then shoved Eva away.

“Go, Eva-lyn!” her adopted sister yelled. “You are our last hope. You must run!”

Eva remained frozen in place, eyes darting from Tahl’s pain stricken face to the approaching Smelterborn. She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss, then nodded at Chel.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise!”

Eva ran.

New strength surge through her and Eva hurtled across the broken ground like she’d never ran before. She didn’t look back. She didn’t heed the booming iron footsteps, drawing closer. She focused all her attention on the smaller side passage ahead.

Twenty paces away now.

The ground rumbled beneath Eva’s feet as a Smelterborn — most likely Ogunn — closed in.

Ten paces.

A gust of wind behind her back told Eva one of the golems had just missed her.

Her lungs burned like a blast furnace, her legs screamed for respite.

Six paces.

Summoning the last vestiges of her strength Eva threw her sword ahead of her and dove into the smaller tunnel. She hit the ground hard but scrambled and managed to grab her weapon as a Smelterborn’s metal hand wrapped around her ankle. As the golem dragged her backward, Eva twisted and lashed out blind with her sword, hoping she didn’t cut her own foot off.

The blade struck metal and she felt the grip release. Swinging one more time to break free, Eva scampered on all fours down the tunnel, out of reach for the golems.

BOOM!

The ground quivered again. Dust and chips of stone fell from the ceiling as Ogunn struck the passage entrance. The dark golem forced his head and torso into the passage, one arm flailing around just out of reach.

“Pathetic human, do you think you can hide from me?” The golem roared. “Do you think —”

Overcome with rage, Eva screamed, a wild, gryphon-like sound and swung her sword as hard as she could at the golem’s outstretched hand. The blade cut through Ogunn’s fingers, severing the top half of his hand.

Ogunn’s bellows of outrage were deafening. He jerked his hand back, the shorn-off fingers rusting away on the ground before Eva's eyes.

“I WILL BURY YOU!”

BOOM!

Eva felt the walls tremble as the gigantic golem rained down blow after blow on the tunnel entrance. Dust filled the air. Without waiting to see what happened, Eva turned and ran a dozen more paces down the hall. When she looked back, large slabs of stone fell free from the ceiling and walls. In moments, the passage was completely blocked. Only the occasional stone skittering across the ground broke the silence.

Sucking in a breath, Eva sobbed, her entire body quaking. The rune sword fell from her slackened hand and she slumped to the floor, gasping. Her Wonder fluttered like a candle in a windstorm, barely putting off enough light for her to see her feet.

Alone.

Completely alone, small, and scared.

Lord Vyr’s words echoed in her mind: What will do you, Evelyn? What you will do, when all hope seems lost and you find yourself alone in the darkness?

Eva buried her face in her hands, overcome with hopelessness. A small sob escaped her and faded away into the surrounding abyss. She didn’t feel like fighting anymore.

As if responding to her bleak thoughts, Eva’s Wonder glowed, growing brighter and brighter until it lit up the tunnel like noonday for a dozen paces in each direction. Eva shaded her eyes and felt the calming warmth and light bask over her, filling her with strength and courage. She felt the encouragement of all those who’d helped bring her to right where she was now: her mother and father, her Uncle Adelar, and Sigrid as if they were standing beside her.

Eva grit her teeth and clenched her hands until her dirty, chipped nails cut into her palms. “I won’t let you down,” she said aloud.

It took several paces for Eva to realize she hadn’t returned down the same passage they’d entered the hall from. In her haste to escape the Smelterborn, she’d dove into the closest narrow passage for protection. Now she was thinking with a clearer head, nothing looked familiar. Pushing aside another wave of despair, she held the Wonder stone out in front of her and did the only thing she could, aside from sitting down and waiting to die: she walked.

The tunnel twisted and wound in a mixture of smooth, square passages and rough tunnels carved from the rock. Whenever the pathway split, Eva wandered without reason. Even so, she thought clear enough to mark each junction and felt a tiny relief that she wasn’t crossing her paths. She realized she was descending again, but had no idea in which direction — it would be impossible to tell if she was headed toward the eastern side of the island and the gryphons or another part of Palantis’ underground caverns entirely.

Eva’s mind wandered to Fury, Lucia and Carroc. She wished she had a way to let them know she was alive and trying to find them. They would wait for their riders indefinitely, but she could imagine what they must feel like, waiting on the outside of the tunnel with no idea what was happening or going on within.

As these fears took hold of her, Eva noticed the Wonder stone began to dim. Sensing the light fading with her resolve, Eva forced the fearful thoughts from her mind. The light grew and, for the first time, Eva noticed a line of runes along the wall at shoulder height.

How long had they been there?

Eva held her Wonder closer to the wall. She was certain there hadn’t been runes like these throughout the entire labyrinth. Unlike the other marks here and there, closer inspection revealed lines of script running from ceiling to floor. The light from the Wonder seemed to reveal them, for when Eva pulled the light back they began to fade.

“Well, it’s better than nothing,” Eva said, the sound of her own voice in solitude strange to her ears.

Heartened by her discovery, Eva pushed on.

The rune walls continued for hundreds of paces and now the passage remained in almost a completely straight line. Although she still had no clue where she was, Eva felt hope coursing through her and picked up her pace to a jog. A faint blue glow appeared ahead, giving her pause. Eva continued at a steady, cautious pace. The blue light grew stronger and Eva rounded a sharp bend, finding herself in a small, round chamber with a domed ceiling.

A lantern hung suspended in the middle of the room. It was the source of the blue light but, unlike the magic lights in the Gyr, this was made of thousands of tiny cut and polished crystals. Eva saw rows and rows of runes carved all around the room, all the way up across the ceiling and circling the dome. In one corner sat a stone slab that looked like it might serve for a bed and against the opposite side she was a table and chair. She guessed the piles of dust sitting on shelves carved into the curved wall might have once been scrolls or books.

But it was the object in the middle of the room beneath the lantern that captured Eva’s attention: a silver anvil, carved with the same blue, shining runes. A box of silver, inlaid with the most intricate work Eva had ever seen, sat atop it.

Eva tore her eyes away from the anvil and the box, looking up at the light. And then it hit her. The blue light, the vivid, cerulean glow, was the same hue as Seppo’s eyes, the same color her Wonder often turned. Indeed, looking down at the stone in her hand, she saw it had changed to match the color of the lantern and runes within the room.

Trembling, Eva’s fingers undid the clasp. The box’s lid opened down the middle, like a pair of tiny doors. An empty slot sat under the lid, just the size of…

Eva felt a tingling sensation as she removed the Wonder stone from its golden chain. Holding it over the slot in the box, it looked like an exact fit. Eva’s mouth went dry as she lowered the stone into the slot within the silver box. A perfect fit.

As soon as Eva’s finger’s left the stone, gold and rose-colored light burst forth. Throwing her hands over her eyes, Eva stumbled backwards and fell hard on the ground.

“Hello?”

Eva’s eyes widened in shock and her hand went to her sword hilt. She wasn’t alone.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Hello?”

The greeting sounded familiar but no one appeared.

Eva glanced around the room. She was alone.

Except for the box.

“Is someone there?” the voice asked

“What in the…” Eva trailed off. The box was talking. Talking in Seppo’s voice!

“H-hello?” Eva replied in a shaky voice. “Seppo, is that you?”

The box ignored her question.

“Pronouncement ‘Seppo’ recognized. Rune sequence will begin.”

Several of the runes on the outside of the box glowed before the voice continued.

“To whom it may concern: My name is Talus, Master Runesmith of the Palantine Empire. I am writing this message in the hopes that one day it will be found and my errors may be corrected. I began experimentation with rune engravings and enchanting upon inanimate objects almost two decades ago. My experimentations stemmed from a simple theory: if runes can augment living things such as people, animals, and plants, is there not a way to harness this same energy and power for inanimate objects?

“My tests began with weaponry. I sought to imbibe the written scripts for flame and ice into a sword blade. At first, these experiments all failed. After much toil, I realized that I could use certain combinations of scripts to augment power from the rune casters themselves.

“Upon this realization, I was successfully able to make armor and weapons inscribed with runes. Although they had no power of their own, they could store the energies of the rune casters. At the young age of fifty-three, barely an adult by Palantine standards, I became a famous and respected member of the Palantine Senate.

“Yet even after this success, I still retained the belief that there could be a way to transfer more than energy into objects. If a rune caster could put his summoned magic into an item, would it not be possible for him to transfer something else, such as a memory? I believed this could be used as a recording device, a way to store the collective knowledge of my people for generations to come. This box is proof that these experiments too, were a success. Alas, if I had only stopped there.

“It was at this time that I took upon a new apprentice, an extremely bright and talented young boy by the name of Ilmaren. I confess, his praise and flattering was something I reveled in. By this time, I had become one of the wealthiest members of the Palantine Senate, but this new apprentice of mine fueled the fire in me to do more.

“He posed a question to me, based on his readings of my earlier work: would it not be possible to craft objects that created their own power, rather than just storing it? Although not living things, wood, stone, and metals were still comprised of elemental matters.

“I told him this was the crux of my work, the one question I had not been able to answer. But I knew there must be some connection between the transference of rune magic and the transference of memory into objects. I had begun my life first as a smith and, as I experimented with rune carvings into inanimate objects in my early years, I returned to this vocation as part of my experimentation. Aside from my work with runes, I was also known as a master craftsman, aided, of course, by the rune tools I could create.

“After much pondering and experimenting, Ilmaren and I came to the conclusion that it might be possible not only to combine inanimate objects with rune power, but to also create a complete transference of conscious into these same objects. What we were working on, although we told no one of our secret experiments, was a way to create immortal life — a way to outlast the decay of the body and mind by placing one’s collective within something that could never be destroyed by age or disease.

“I confess, our early experiments were immoral, to say the least. We used the bodies of the recently deceased and attempted to reanimate them with rune magic. However, a dead thing that was once living, we soon discovered, is not the same thing as something that has never lived. I thank all the gods that we failed at this juncture and altered our course.

“We returned to our research and, after months of calculations, I believed I had finally solved the problem. The transference had to occur with a live host, meaning the enchanting of an object combined with the transference of a live host would meld the two together.

“Naturally, the only thing that would work would be a suit of armor, as the person would have to be completely encased in the object. The person, wearing the enchanted and inscribed rune armor, would then be placed inside the smelter. The difference from our earlier tests was the inclusion of two runestones of opposing energies: the Aithos of Light and the Deimos of Darkness. These stones served to channel the rune magic and, we hoped, protect the person inside from the fires of the smelter. We named the completed structure the First Forge.”

Here, there was a long pause and the voice of Talus/Seppo heaved a sigh.

“I, in my hubris, insisted that I test the process first, although Ilmaren volunteered numerous times. I told him I did not want to risk his life needlessly. In reality, I did not want him to succeed in my place and take even a fraction of the glory. And so I encased myself in a suit of armor, crafted specially for the experiment….”

Another long pause. When Talus/Seppo continued, Eva had to strain her ears to hear his voice.

“If only it had failed.

“I will spare the listener of this record and account the excruciating pain I went through inside the forge as my script was activated and the armor began to meld itself to and then, consume me. The pain caused me to lose all consciousness. When I awoke, I was lying outside the First Forge, my apprentice weeping over my body.

“When I opened my eyes and spoke to him, Ilmaren jumped back in fright and struck me with a hammer. Looking down at my body, I saw the reason for his fright. I was still in the armor. However, I realized there was no physical remnant of me inside the armor. My memory and consciousness or, as some would call it, my soul, were all that remained of the man known as Talus.

“Now that I had become immortal, I did not find it glorious. I was an abomination. I confess terror filled me — I had no way of knowing how long the imbibed rune scripts would last and expected to die at any moment.”

Eva thought back to her conversation with Seppo that night in camp: The things I remember are strange: the feel of the sun on my face, water running through my hands, grass beneath my feet, the touch of a loved one — I may be protected from age, disease, and weapons in this shell, but I have come to learn that it keeps out more than it lets in.

“I fled Palantis that night. I attempted to take a boat off the island but it capsized and I sank to what I thought would be a watery grave. It took several minutes to realize I did not need to draw breath — was I truly alive? I sank to the bottom of the ocean and walked to the shore.

“I wandered for many years in self-imposed exile. I, Talus, who had once been counted among the mightiest in the empire, was now an outcast. It took many years to come to terms with my fate but eventually, I returned to Palantis.

“My homecoming was not as I expected. I was betrayed. Ilmaren convinced the Senate I was an abomination and they locked me away deep in the catacombs beneath the palace. I marveled at how great my fall was: from Rune Master to monster.

“Ilmaren came to me one night and, in our conversation, I saw his true self: he was a bitter, envious boy. He had continued my research and incorporated even more blood magics and dark runes into my design. Moreover, he had convinced the citizens that he could offer them a gift only the gods should ever have — immortality. The Palantines, in their pride and vanity, would have given him anything. ”

Talus/Seppo stopped again and a cold chill crawled over Eva. She knew what came next but listened on, the hopes of finding some hint at how she could destroy the rune master’s work.

“The corrupted First Forge gave the citizens what Ilmaren promised: in their iron armor, they were impervious to pain, sickness, and age. Thousands flocked to Palantis, drawn by the promise of life everlasting. Bound in my prison by Ilmaren’s rune magic, I could do nothing to stop them. When the number of golems swelled beyond reckoning, Ilmaren completed his vile, treacherous design: he cast himself into the First Forge and emerged as the dark golem, Ogunn. All those who had gone before him were turned to mindless slaves and forced to serve his every command — the first Smelterborn.

“A hundred years of blood and war ensued. My people, the proud and mighty Palantines, were slowly destroyed by a runesmith’s apprentice. By the time I escaped my prison, there were hardly any left to oppose the Smelterborn.

“And now we come to the time I record this message, using the rune box I created so long ago in my innocent experimentations. I have returned to the island of Palantis with all that remains of my people. In addition to being slaughtered by Smelterborn, they have been wracked with disease and hunted by the rebellious primitives on the mainland. The high bloodlines are all but extinct. Those few left who can fight have joined me, in a last desperate attempt to destroy Ogunn and the First Forge.

Talus/Seppo paused. For a moment, Eva thought the voice had gone for good and despaired — she still had no idea what she needed to do. When the voice returned, it spoke in a heavy, reluctant tone.

“It is my belief that a willing victim may cast themselves into the First Forge and, with this sacrifice, undo its corrupt evil power. As I am the one responsible for the complete destruction of my people, it is only fitting that the sacrifice be mine.

“I make this record in the event we fail at this task. Perhaps, one day, someone may find this account and use this knowledge to destroy the First Forge. Be warned: whoever enters the First Forge will not survive. It is my hope that my death will end the great evil I have unleashed upon the Palantines and, in some small way, make amends for my great folly. These are the last words of Talus, former Rune Master of Palantis, now a wretched abomination of his own making. Goodbye.”

The light faded and the voice ended. With a shaking hand, Eva retrieved her Wonder — the Aithos stone — and threaded it back on its chain. When she placed the stone around her neck, the burden of her task pulled at her as if she was wearing a millstone.

Why had Seppo’s sacrifice not completely destroyed the First Forge? It seemed he had only managed to put the golems to sleep — albeit for a very long time — until Eva’s father found the Wonder stone and inadvertently brought Seppo back to life, along with Ogunn and the Smelterborn.

Eva held the stone in her palm as it turned the same shade of blue as the lantern above — the same shade of blue as Seppo’s eyes. She thought back to when she’d touched the stone to Seppo’s chest plate. It was almost as if a piece of Talus existed in the Wonder…

An idea formed in Eva’s mind: what if Seppo hadn’t been able to destroy the First Forge because he wasn’t human anymore? Perhaps he had survived because a piece of his soul — the Aithos stone — hadn’t been with him when he cast himself into the furnace?

The realization of what was required struck Eva like a hammer blow. But rather than being afraid, a calm settled over her. Her mind had never been more clear. She had a purpose now. She had a plan.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Eva caught a glimpse of sunlight ahead and ran as fast as she could, bursting outside into the orange, fiery glow of late evening. The moon shone faint on the edge of the dying sky but promised to be at full glory come nightfall. She wasn’t too late.

Hearing her approach, the gryphons shot up spraying sand everywhere. Fury, Lucia, and Carroc rushed to greet her. In his excitement, Fury almost knocked her over, keening with joy as he rubbed his beak against her shoulder. In spite of the dire circumstances, Eva laughed and ruffled her gryphon’s head feathers. There had been a time in the caves when she wasn’t sure if she’d ever see Fury again and felt grateful for the small mercy.

Her smile faded, however, upon seeing the concerned looks of the other gryphons.

“It’s okay,” she said, running her hands down Lucia and Carroc’s beaks. “I’ve got a plan to free them. It’s going to be alright.”

Truth be told, Eva knew it would still take a miracle for one woman and three gryphons to free their friends and destroy the First Forge. At least they had a chance now.

By now, the sun had fallen behind the cliffs and ruins of Palantis. Time grew short. Especially Eva’s.

The gryphons paced the beach restlessly, watching the full moon rising in the night sky.

Walking away from Fury and the others, Eva stopped at the edge of the short beach, watching the waves lap into shore. She’d only seen the ocean once before in Pandion. Although it’s white sands and blue water far outshone the bland, bleak waters of the eastern ocean, Eva still appreciated the sight.

A warm sea breeze blew through Eva’s hair, heralding the fair days of summer ahead: Days of soaring through clear blue skies with Fury, bathed in sunlight. Days with Tahl, walking through the summer markets in Gryfonesse. Days she would never see.

Eva closed her eyes, letting the sound of the waves and the feel of the wind wash over her in a few last moments of peace. When she opened them, she withdrew the Wonder from beneath her mail and cupped it in her hands. Its soft glow reassured her and warmth spread throughout her body, pushing away death’s shadow.

She unbuckled the straps of her Windsworn armor and bent over to slide the mail shirt over her head. Eva felt a greater weight than just the steel rings and lacquered leather falling away. The armor, like her fears, would only slow her down.

When she returned to the gryphons, Eva wrapped her arms around Fury, burying her face in his neck feathers to hide the tears. She thought of all they’d been through since that day so long ago when she’d found Ivan hiding with a blood-red gryphon egg inside of Soot’s woodshed.

“I guess we lived up to the expectations after all,” Eva said, recalling the prophecies surrounding the birth of a red gryphon. She looked in Fury’s fierce yellow eyes. “We’ve come a long way together, boy. Let’s end this.”

The last rays of sun winked out as Eva took to the sky on Fury with Lucia, and Carroc winging close behind. Down below, the great circle in the midst of the ruined palace courtyard was wreath in flame from hundreds of burning braziers and cauldrons. Rows and rows of dark-armored shapes surrounded the central place — Ogunn’s Smelterborn witnessing their master complete his vile work.

Eva hadn’t thought it possible, but the First Forge pulsed with unnatural rune fire, brighter and hotter than when they’d passed over it coming to the island. It burned like a beacon set to rival the full moon above, sending waves of dread and heat alike from its dull gray walls.

Although they were far above, Eva spotted what could only be Ogunn inside the circle, Seppo in chains next to him. Farther back, other, smaller shapes were just visible in the glow of the fires: Tahl, Ivan, Soot, Chel, and Wynn.

Now that she saw him again, and knowing all Seppo had gone through, Eva’s heart went out to the Palantine-turned-golem. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to see everything you loved destroyed by something you created. Or to face years and years of blame and regret afterward. She wondered if he now viewed his days as Seppo, when he had no memory of being the rune master Talus, as simple bliss.

Eva’s eyes roved over the ruins, knowing her time was short. A wall stood on the eastern side, butting up against the gathered Smelterborn, riddled with empty windows and door frames that looked like pockmarks in the stone. The First Forge sat a stone’s throw away from the wall — the closest cover available.

Eva turned Fury away. She’d seen all she needed to see. The other gryphons followed in her wake and they landed back on the beach again. Eva explained everyone’s role — Lucia and Carroc would provide a distraction while Fury landed Eva on the backside of the wall, where she would climb through the ruins and drop down into the courtyard when the golems were distracted. From there, she hoped to herself, there would be a clear shot to the First Forge.

The gryphons dipped their heads in understanding and Eva swung onto Fury’s back. She felt her insides twist and wrench not with nervousness but with regret. She realized, as Fury spread his powerful wings and leaped into the air, that this was her last flight, the last moments she would share with her gryphon companion.

In spite of herself, Eva felt tears running down her face as Fury flew low through the sagging towers and caved in ruins of the palace. He landed on a large slab of stone jutting out from the back side of the interior courtyard wall. A window frame to their right glowed like noonday from the light shining from the First Forge.

Eva slid from Fury’s back, her limbs growing heavy. She stood in front of Fury, holding his gigantic eagle’s head with her hands, staring into his eyes.

“You be a good boy, okay?” she said. “Take care of them after — while I’m gone.”

Fury let out a tiny chirp, reminding Eva of the long-ago days when he’d been an angry hatchling, eager to nip and scratch at her whenever he got the chance. The weight of the memories caused Eva to collapse against the red gryphon. She forced herself to pull away when Ogunn began speaking in the courtyard below, the ruins echoing his booming, ancient words.

“Good luck, boy,” Eva said, squeezing Fury one last time. He shook his head and puffed out his feathers to reassure her and then launched off the stone slab with his hind paws, gliding away into the night.

“Goodbye,” Eva whispered, watching him disappear into the darkness.

Eva made her way to the window opening and crouched down to watch Ogunn below. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt the need to wait until the golem was at the peak of his incantations before making her move. The flames billowing from the First Forge grew as the chanting continued until a pillar of fire blasted hundreds of feet into the air. Eva thanked her good fortune — the added light from the flames would mask the approach of the gryphons.

Bound in black chains, Seppo struggled and shouted to Ogunn in what Eva guessed must be ancient Palantine. The black-armored golem ignored his former master and spread his arms higher as he chanted, the Deimos stone glowing in his hand. Eva’s Wonder began to pulse and surge and she folded her arms over her chest to cover it up.

Her loved ones were on the steps below Seppo and Ogunn, chained and kneeling. Momentary relief surged through Eva. Aside from a few cuts and scrapes, they were all alive: Wynn, Ivan, Chel, Tahl, Soot. Just seeing them gave Eva strength and she wished she could call out to them and let them know everything would be okay.

A series of gryphon screams split the air as Fury, Lucia and Carroc burst from the darkness above. Illuminated in the light of the flaming pillar, the gryphons made a fierce sight, smashing into the Smelterborn on the western side of the courtyard. Surprised by the unexpected attack, the golems toppled over, several of their counterparts falling as well due to their close quarters. Before the golems could recover, the gryphons rose and landed in the midst of Tahl and the rest.

Ogunn’s hands fell and he roared in frustration, striding toward them. Seeing her chance, Eva pulled herself over the lip of the stone window frame and extended her arms down as far as she could before dropping. She hit the stone hard but rolled on instinct, lessening the impact.

Leaping to her feet she rushed to Seppo, who looked up at her in surprise. Eva drew her sword and swung, cutting through his black chains just as Ogunn turned.

Seppo let out a roar of his own and rose, stretching his arms to snap the last of the chains binding him. He turned to Ogunn, who stood at the bottom of the steps, gigantic iron fists clenched. The Smelterborn began to advance, but the dark golem raised a hand to hold them back.

“No!” he shouted. As one, the ranks of golems froze in place, awaiting their next order.

“I knew you would come — I sensed the Aithos drawing near,” Ogunn said. He raised the hand ruined by Eva’s blade. “Before you die, you will watch as I feed your friends to the fires, making them my slaves for all eternity.”

“I am Queen Evelyn Vakarin of Rhylance,” Eva replied, her voice carrying across the courtyard. “And I have come to put an end to your abominations.”

Ogunn laughed and shook his head. “Foolish mortal, do you think you can stop me? You will need more than a pretty rock and an inscribed blade for that.”

“Enough!” Seppo placed himself between Eva and Ogunn, blocking their view of one another. “Let us end this, Ilmaren.”

Eva felt the blistering heat of the First Forge to her right, its pillar of orange and red rune fire stretching higher and higher into the sky as if to burn the heavens. The sweltering heat from the enchanted furnace was at the point of overwhelming the humans and Eva felt her vision spin. She judged the distance to the forge, hoping she would be able to make it to the furnace before Ogunn or the Smelterborn realized her purpose.

Thunder boomed across the clear sky as if the ancient Palantine gods pounded hammer and anvil. The island shook. A flash of green light split the air above them and Seppo moaned, sinking to his knees. Pale wisps of smoke poured from the openings of his helmet and the runes carved into his armor.

“You are too late, girl!” Ogunn proclaimed over the thunder and howling flames. “The ritual is complete: the First Forge will consume its creator and my reign will truly begin!”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Seppo collapsed and Eva rushed to his side. Before them, Ogunn let out a deep booming laugh as dark flames wreathed his armor.

“Seppo, get up!” she screamed, slapping his breastplate. “Get up, I need you!”

Seppo groaned, his blue eyes flickering. In desperation, Eva reached into her shirt and yanked the Wonder from its chain. She pressed the stone to the golem’s armor. Seppo’s eyes shone bright once more. He attempted to rise only to have his strength give away once more.

“He is finished!” Ogunn said, his proclamation mixed with the screams of Eva’s friends.

“Seppo,” Eva said, leaning close to the golem’s helmet so only he could hear her. “I heard your message, in the silver box. I know what to do. But I can’t do it without you.”

Seppo’s head lolled toward hers. Eva’s Wonder glowed, brighter and brighter, a perfect shade of blue. Seppo moaned again and clamped a hand over the stone of his breastplate.

“What is this trickery?” Ogunn hissed, as Seppo’s fingers curled around the Wonder. “What are you doing?”

The dark golem bounded up the steps toward them. Golden light burst from the Wonder in Seppo’s hand.

“Go, mistress Evelyn!”

Surging to his feet, Seppo met Ogunn in a terrible clash of iron.

Eva darted past them and heard Tahl, Soot and the rest yelling at her from across the courtyard. She shot a wild glance at them as the Smelterborn closed in, forcing the gryphons into the air to combat them. Whatever spell Ogunn had used to hold their bindings gave way when he engaged Seppo and the humans picked up the lengths of iron chain, swinging them overhead as Smelterborn closed in.

Eva glanced back at the two golems grappling with one another. Seppo struck his former apprentice like a battering ram in the side of the helmet. Ogunn reeled and Seppo pushed his advantage, hammering the black-armored golem relentlessly. Ogunn continued to retreat under the rain of blows, backing toward the First Forge.

Torn by indecision, Eva took an unsure step toward her friends. But more Smelterborn closed in, blocking her path to them as well. Her head swiveled back to Seppo and Ogunn. As the dark golem neared the First Forge, his strength recovered. Seppo swung another haymaker, but this time, Ogunn caught it in his fist and blocked Seppo’s other punch with his gauntleted forearm. Closing the distance between them, Ogunn rammed Seppo in the face with the top of his helmet.

The dark fires raged across Ogunn’s armor and now it was his turn to take the upper hand, raining blow and blow upon Seppo, who staggered back toward the steps where Eva stood.

Unable to reach her loved ones or the First Forge, Eva ran to Seppo’s aid, drawing her sword. As she sidestepped the brawling golems, Eva swung the blade at Ogunn’s knee. To her surprise, the strike rebounded in her hand and the dark flames shielding Ogunn’s armor hissed.

“Your weapon is useless against me now, girl!” Ogunn said. He blocked Seppo with a forearm and swung at Eva with the other. She flew across the courtyard and struck the ground hard, head spinning.

With blurred vision, she saw Seppo continue to falter under the onslaught of Ogunn’s attack. A whoosh of air blew behind her, and Eva twisted around as Fury landed beside her. The gryphon let out a worried screech and nudged her with his beak. Whether it was Ogunn’s orders or Eva’s Wonder that had held the Smelterborn back, they seemed to disregard it now. Stepping in unison, the golems closed in, their shields forming a wall to push everyone closer to the First Forge. Eva wrapped her hand around Fury’s wing and pulled herself up, shaking her head to clear away the dizziness.

Seppo fell to the ground again as whatever strength he’d found in the Wonder faded. He looked to Eva, helpless and raised a weak arm to block Ogunn’s incoming strike. Bellowing, Ogunn punched Seppo in the head once, twice, with blows that would have shattered an anvil. Pale smoke billowed out of Seppo’s helmet and chest runes.

Eva looked down and spotted her sword on the ground. She bent over to retrieve it, the weapon suddenly feeling heavier than a forge hammer.

“Help him, boy!” she yelled at Fury.

Fury leaped into the air and struck Ogunn in the back with all his might as the golem stood over Seppo. The dark golem spun around, batting at the gryphon but Fury pulled away too fast.

With Ogunn temporarily distracted, Eva staggered forward as fast as her battered body would move. Ogunn turned his back to her, fending off Fury’s attack and Eva swung her sword back and hurled it toward Seppo. The blade clanged off the ground and Seppo rolled over pulling it into his fist with outstretched fingers.

“Go, Evelyn!” he shouted.

Summoning the last of her strength, Eva half ran, half limped toward the forge, willing her broken body to go faster.

Twenty paces.

She glanced to her right and saw Fury spin out of the air as Ogunn’s fist gripped his wing and yanked him down. The heat of the forge scorched Eva’s face.

Ten paces.

Seppo staggered to his feet, clenching the rune sword. Ogunn spun away from Fury and saw Eva nearing the mouth of the Forge. The intense heat instantly dried the sweat from her body and scorched Eva’s hair. She held up a hand to block the blinding light.

Five paces.

Eva’s whole body screamed for respite. Three steps away, her injured leg buckled and she fell to the ground.

Ogunn roared and sprinted for her. Behind the dark golem, illuminated in the hellish glow of the forge, Eva saw Seppo leap, driving the rune sword through the back of Ogunn's helmet. The blade flared white-hot like the day it had been forged as it pierced through the front of Ogunn’s helmet. The black flames on Ogunn’s body quenched in an instant. Eva crawled forward and pulled herself to her feet.

She stood at the mouth of the forge now and the flames licked at her, hotter than anything she had ever imagined. She didn’t know how she hadn’t been burned to a crisp already.

“EVA!”

She heard Tahl’s screams but refused to look at him, afraid she would lose her nerve.

Closing her eyes, Eva took one last step and fell forward into the mouth of the First Forge.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tahl watched Eva give herself to the flames and screamed. Screamed like he wouldn’t have thought possible until his throat burned like the fires of the First Forge itself. Eva disappeared in an instant as the flames engulfed her. He twisted in the iron embrace of the Smelterborn holding him until it felt like his arms would tear from his shoulders. It did no good.

The sky shook again, thunder booming so loud many of the half-standing walls around them crumbled and fell, crushing the Smelterborn beneath them.

A flash of white light burst from the mouth of the forge, knocking the host of golems around them to the ground. Still wrapped in the Smelterborn’s arms, Tahl fell hard. His head snapped back and collided with the golem’s breastplate. Everything went dark.

Sometime later, Tahl’s eyes fluttered open. Groaning, he rolled over and realized he was lying next to the Smelterborn who’d been about to crush him. Dazed, Tahl stared at the golem for a moment before coming to his senses and scrambling away. The Smelterborn didn’t move — the orange fires beneath its helmet extinguished.

The golem’s armor started corroding away before his eyes until it was nothing more than a pile of rusted filings. Everything came rushing back.

Eva!

Fighting his pounding head, Tahl clambered to his feet and ran to the First Forge. The domed top was split in half, the runes dull. The hellish heat and flames were gone.

Eva’s body lay upon a pile of ash.

Morning sunlight streamed down through the crack in the dome, illuminating her golden hair.

A wounded cry escaped his lips and Tahl fell to his knees beside his love. He eased his shaking hands beneath Eva and gently turned her over. Somehow, the flames hadn’t consumed her but it made little difference. Her head lolled back, eyes closed, body limp. Aside from a smudge of ash on her face, she could have been sleeping.

But she was gone.

Sobs wracking his body, Tahl fell over Eva and clutched her as his tears fell into the ash. Gathering her in his arms, Tahl carried his love out of the ruins of the First Forge and laid her beneath the morning sun on the pale stone of the courtyard.

Moments later, a heavy hand settled on Tahl’s back. He turned and found Soot, Wynn, Chel, and Ivan standing over him. Each of them stared down at Eva, tears coursing down their smoke-blackened faces.

A heartbreaking scream cut through the silence and Fury bounded forward to his rider. The red gryphon nudged Eva’s cheek with his beak. When she didn’t respond, he sank down on all fours on the opposite side of Tahl. Fury’s head dipped to the ground and he let out a quiet chirp once, then fell silent.

“Not her!” Tahl screamed. His heart-wrenching protests echoed throughout the empty city.

The sky was a clear, bright blue — the same color as Eva’s eyes, Tahl bitterly reflected. The Smelterborn continued to decay around them until all that remained were piles of corroded dust. All was as it should have been, except Eva was gone. Chel and Wynn clutched each other, shaking. Soot just stared, silent tears running down his face. A broken, grief-stricken dirge rose from Ivan as he fought his emotions to honor the Queen of Rhylance.

A mechanical groan rose behind them and the group turned. It was Seppo.

The golem crawled toward them, the lower half of his body unmoving as he stretched out and pulled himself forward with one hand, the other dragging behind, clenched. Ivan fell silent when the golem reached Eva’s side.

“You did this!” Tahl screamed, his face twisted with rage and agony. “She's dead because of  you!”

The glowing blue orbs inside Seppo’s helmet flickered as he looked down at Eva.

“I…no…”

His garbled and broken voice fell silent. Tahl shook his head, overcome by grief. He unclenched his shaking fists and brushed away a strand of hair blown across Eva’s face by the gentle breeze stirring around them.

Seppo groaned and stretched out his closed hand. Slowly, his fingers uncurled to reveal the Aithos stone — Eva’s Wonder. Tahl lifted the stone from Seppo’s palm and the white stone gave a weak flicker. He arranged the necklace around Eva’s neck, vision blurred with tears. The light of the stone blinked once more then faded away.

“Th-thank you,” Seppo gasped, his voice fading. “For being…my…friendsssss…”

The golem’s head fell forward and his armored body fell still.

“Seppo?” Soot knelt down beside his longtime companion. He gave the golem’s shoulders a gentle shake. “Come on you old rust bucket, get up.”

Seppo didn’t respond. All that remained of the friendly golem was an empty suit of armor. Whatever rune magic had once given him life was gone.

Tahl looked down at Eva again. In death, she looked at peace. He closed his eyes willing it all to go away, to find himself back on their ledge at the Gyr in each other’s arms.

Someone coughed.

Wild hope surged through Tahl and he looked down at Eva. The white stone on her breast rose as she took a ragged gasp of air. Woman and Wonder flickered back to life.

Eva’s eyes opened and she saw Tahl kneeling over her.

“Eva?” he said in a disbelieving voice. “Eva!”

Soot, Ivan, Wynn, and Chel crowded around them shouting, laughing and crying. Suddenly a huge feathered head knocked them all away and Fury let out a screech of joy, rubbing his beak against Eva’s neck.

Eva groaned and Tahl helped her sit up, with the aid of several trembling hands. She looked down at her feet and saw Seppo’s still body lying on the courtyard stone.

“He saved you!” Soot said, tears running down his face. “He brought you back to life!”

Soot’s words cut through Eva’s confused and foggy mind. “Ogunn!” she yelled, glancing around, eyes wide. “The Smelterborn!”

“They’re gone, Eva,” Tahl said, wiping the tears from his face and smearing it with ash and charcoal in the process. “You did it. They’re all gone. The First Forge is destroyed.”

Eva’s heart sank as she looked at Seppo and realized that he too was no more.

“It’s okay,” Soot said, sniffing and wiping the back of his good hand across his nose. He heaved out a deep breath, shoulders drooping, then looked at Seppo. A small smile crossed the smith’s face. “He’s at peace now. And he gave you back to us.”

“But…how?” Eva trailed off. “I should be dead!”

“It was the Wonder.” Ivan pointed to the stone which had fallen into Eva’s lap. “Whatever power Seppo imbued it with, whatever life it held brought you back.”

Eva stared down at the stone, its surface swirling with a blend of gold, rose and cerulean light. She thought of her father, and his golden gryphon, Sunflash, of their courage and daring. She thought of her uncle Adelar, his love for Rhylance and its people. And she thought of Sigrid and Sven and their loyalty. Last of all, she thought of Seppo. Their sacrifices hadn’t been meaningless. They hadn’t died in vain.

“What now, your highness?” Tahl asked. He winked a bloodshot eye and Eva saw that familiar, cocky smirk on his face. Smiling, she reached around his neck and pulled him close.

Soot gave an awkward cough, and Wynn a gagging noise before their lips parted.

Eva looked at the others and shook her head, laughing. An old smith, an outcast plains warrior, two gryphon riders and…her. A scared, awkward smith’s assistant who had somehow become a queen. Together, they’d done the impossible. They’d stopped the iron storm.

Eva stood and leaned against Fury, swaying on unsteady feet. The red gryphon gave her another reassuring nudge and Lord Vyr’s pronouncement came to mind as she looked from Fury’s eagle head to his lion’s body.

“The eagle, the lion and the queen,” she whispered. “How about that?”

With help, Eva swung onto Fury’s back, Chel climbing up behind her. Mounted on Lucia and Carroc, the others waited for her to take to the sky.

She smiled. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter Thirty

“You sure about this?” Soot asked in his usual, gruff voice. “Doesn’t seem fitting for some lowly smith to crown the Queen of Rhylance.”

Eva laughed. “Don’t you try to get out of this. You promised!”

Soot held up his metal hand, newly fitted to replace the one tarnished and battered from their journey. “What if I drop it?”

Eva rolled her eyes and stood on her tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek. “You’ll be fine.”

They were in Adelar’s private chambers in the citadel. Eva took a deep breath and examined herself in the long mirror while Wynn fussed with her white dress. It was a thing of beauty, woven with gold and silver so that it shimmered like her Wonder whenever she moved. The white stone hung from her neck, winking and sparkling as a reminder of Seppo, the friendly golem.

Chel, her hair braided with flowers, held Eva’s rune sword in her hands with its gold-chased scabbard and belt. Soot frowned at it.

“I still don’t know what kind of queen wears a sword to her coronation and wedding.”

“A warrior queen,” Chel said with a grin as she buckled it around Eva’s waist.

Wynn made her last adjustments and stepped back to admire Eva. The young Windsworn cut a dashing figure herself in the royal blue of the gryphon riders combined with a silver cloak, marking her a member of the Queen’s Wing.

The study door opened and Andor stood before them in his finest uniform, armor polished until it gleamed like a precious gem. “Ready, your highness?” he asked, grinning.

“I told you not to call me that!” Eva said. But a smile tugged at her lips and she held out her arms for Andor and Soot to escort her. Wynn and Chel took their places behind to carry Eva’s train.

They walked slowly through the empty hall, Eva’s heart racing as the guards came to attention. The doors opened and a wave of jubilation hit them.

All of Gryfonesse seemed to be packed into the courtyard and palace grounds. The crowd cheered and laughed as they passed, tossing flower petals to line the path of their new queen. Eva fixed a nervous smile on her face and butterflies fluttered in her stomach from the sheer number of people watching her.

Farther down the corridor, rows of visitors from Pandion and Maizoro, in addition to Scrawls and even a few Juarag, waited to pay their respects to the Queen of Rhylance. Eva nodded to the Scrawl Elders, Belka, and Arapheem as she passed by. The old Juarag raider inclined his head, a measure of how far they’d come over the previous months.

Beyond the foreigners, a line of Windsworn, both riders and gryphons, stood at attention. The summer sun glinted off their winged helms and the gryphons joined together in a wild scream when Eva reached them, sending a chill down her back.

At the front of the line, Eva saw Fury and Ivan. The red gryphon’s copper-colored feathers and fur shone like burnished steel. He ruffled his head and clawed at the stone flagging in anticipation. Ivan shot Eva a reassuring grin and gestured toward the man standing beside him.

Tahl.

He looked like a hero straight out of a Scrawl's legend in his shining armor and golden cloak. When he winked at Eva her heart fluttered like the first time she’d seen him all those years before in the market.

“You’re beautiful,” he said when Soot and Andor stepped back and Eva took his hands.

The sounds of the crowd and Ivan’s words wedding them together fell way as Eva and Tahl looked into one another’s eyes. She stirred when the Scrawl stopped speaking and they turned to face him.

“Please kneel.”

Eva and Tahl dropped to one knee as Soot crowned Eva and Andor did the same for Tahl. When they rose, a thunderous cheer filled the palace grounds, rising into the clear blue sky above. The applause lasted for several long moments until Ivan raised his hands for quiet. When the last shouts and claps faded, Ivan grasped Eva and Tahl’s wrists and lifted their hands overhead.

“All hail Queen Evelyn Vakarin and her husband, King Tahl! Long may they reign with fair winds under peaceful skies!”

The end?

The gryphons will return.

Author's Note

Gryphons first captured my attention years ago when, as a young, impressionable kid (well under the suggested age for “Teen” video games) I was introduced to Warcraft II: Tides of Darkness by some irresponsible older cousins. Whenever I got kicked off the computer and had to *gasp* play outside, I often took on the imaginary mantle of said gryphon riders on my many childhood adventures. When it came time to start a new series, the noble gryphon riders resurfaced again and the Windsworn were born.

Writing the Gryphon Riders Trilogy has been my most rewarding and challenging project to date. My goal from the onset was to create a fresh take on “dragon rider” fantasy books with plenty of new ideas and familiar tropes mixed together. Of course, like everything fantasy I write, I threw in a splash of frontier fantasy and medieval western elements just for flavoring. Altaris, if you hadn’t gathered, has many features similar to North America: the formidable Windswept Mountains much like the Rockies with the Endless Plains and the Juarag taking the place of the Great Plains and its Native American tribes. On top of that, I laid a hodgepodge of other features: Ice Age animals, a shifted equator (if you were wondering why it’s warmer to the north and colder to the south in Altaris) and the shadowed remains of an Atlantean/Grecian empire.

In short, I had a blast creating this world and I hope you had just as much fun venturing into it with Eva and company. I’ve got many more plans for Altaris and I hope you’ll come back and visit many more times.

If you’re reading this then chances are you’ve stuck with me through all three books. You don’t know how much that means to me. Writing isn’t always some mythical, magical thing: it’s often frustrating and lonely. I’m not saying that to complain — I love being an author. I say that because it’s readers like you that make it all worthwhile. Thank you.

On that note, if you want to be even more awesome, one of the greatest things you could do is write a review for this book (or any of my books). Or, if reviewing isn’t your thing, just recommend them to a friend! If you feel the inclination to do either of those things, you can find a complete list of all of my books on the next page.

Until next time, thank you again. Here’s wishing you fair winds and clear skies.

— DAS (Derek Alan Siddoway)

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Author Bio: Derek Alan Siddoway

Derek Alan Siddoway is the author of Teutevar Saga, a medieval western/frontier fantasy series, and Gryphon Riders, a young adult fantasy trilogy. He was born and raised in the American West at the foot of the Uinta Mountains. An Undaunted and Everyday Author, Derek spends his free time reading, obsessively filling notebooks, adventuring outdoors and celebrating small victories. He's also a sucker for Star Wars and football, namely the University of Utah and Minnesota Vikings.

For more shenanigans, find Derek online in the following places:

@D_Sidd (Twitter)

Teutevar Saga (Facebook)

derekalansiddoway.com

Also by the author

Gryphon Riders Trilogy

Windsworn (Gryphon Riders Book 1)

Windswept (Gryphon Riders Book 2)

Windbreak (Gryphon Riders Book 3)

Teutevar Saga

Into Exile (Teutevar Saga Book 0)

Out of Exile (Teutevar Saga Book 1)

Return to Shadow (Teutevar Saga Book 2)

Other works

Lone Wolf Anthology: A dark and heroic fantasy collection

Swords for Hire: A Frontier Fantasy and Medieval Western Story Anthology

Valiant (short story)