The Griffin's Flight by K.J. Taylor Read Free Book Online Page A

Asking the griffin to keep an eye on her for a few moments did not seem like the most intelligent idea. “I mean,” he went on, “could you just get my robe and my sword? I left them on top of the cliff.”
    Skandar appeared to listen, but he didn’t move.
    “If you go and get them, I’ll catch you another lizard,” said Arren.
    Skandar stood up. “Big lizard?”
    “The biggest I can find. Now go and get the robe.”
    Skandar paused to consider the offer and then flew off. He returned a few moments later and dropped the robe and sword next to Arren, then looked at him expectantly. “Lizard?”
    “Later,” said Arren. He picked up the robe and used it to cover the woman. She looked as though she was starting to recover; she stirred when he touched her, and he put his hand on her forehead. “It’s all right,” he told her. “You’re safe.”
    Bored, Skandar started to take an interest in her again. “Food?”
    Arren pushed his beak away. “ No , Skandar.”
    “Hungry,” the griffin complained.
    “Well,” said Arren, deciding to use a different tack, “there’s no point in eating her. Look how thin she is. She’s even thinner than I am. Why don’t you go and catch something bigger? A goat, maybe.”
    Skandar made a grab for the woman, but Arren smacked him in the face. “Don’t you dare .”
    The black griffin hissed at him and snapped his beak, trying to intimidate him, but Arren glared at him until he looked away.
    “I go find food,” the griffin muttered sullenly and flew off.
    “Thank gods for that,” Arren said aloud. He patted the woman’s face. “Hello? Can you hear me?”
    The woman’s eyes opened, and Arren jerked backward in shock.
    Her eyes were not human. They were burning gold from edge to edge, without any whites or irises, and the pupils were jet black. As Arren sat there staring in bewilderment, they turned and focused on him.
    The woman suddenly came alive, starting up and scrabbling at the ground beneath her, hissing. But she was still weak; she couldn’t sit up and fell back onto the grass, breathing heavily.
    Arren tried to restrain her. “You’re safe,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
    The woman recoiled at his touch. “Do not touch me, slave,” she rasped.
    The words were spoken in griffish. “I’m not a slave,” he snapped, unable to bite back on the anger that word automatically provoked. “I saved you.”
    She snarled back at him. Her eyes, fixed on his face, were full of hate. “Come near me and I will kill you with my teeth,” she promised.
    Arren drew away, both shocked and concerned. “Please, don’t try and get up. Just lie back. I promise I won’t come near you if you don’t want me to, but you need to rest. You nearly died.”
    She subsided, panting. “I—am—not weak, human.”
    “I didn’t say you were. No, you’re strong. I can tell.”
    That seemed to mollify her a little. “How did you find me?”
    “You were in that pond,” said Arren, gesturing toward it. “I saw you in there and pulled you out. How did you get in there? What’s your name?”
    The woman was silent for a time. “Named Skade,” she said at last.
    “Skade,” said Arren. “That’s a nice name. I’m—well, no-one much.”
    “You are blackrobe,” said Skade.
    Even now, the word struck a painful blow. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose I am. How do you feel?”
    She made another attempt to get up, and then lay back again. “Do not touch me.”
    “I won’t,” Arren promised. “Rest there. I’ll look after you.”
    She didn’t reply. She stared up at the sky for a while, unmoving, and then closed her eyes. Arren got up and wandered around, hoping to find some food. There were a few berries growing on a bush not far away; he cautiously tasted one and found it was sweet and juicy. He picked the rest of them and stuffed them in his pocket, then found a sharp stick and dug around for grubs and roots. He eventually found some; they were thin and