Yes, the bird man definitely reminded Morgis more of a Seeker than he did the Gryphon. Awrak was an opportunist just like the former. His people had fought their Aramite conquerors not so much out of a desire to be free, but because they had seen that the rebels already had the upper hand. Under the yoke of the wolf raiders, Awrak’s kind had supposedly not suffered as much as most.
He had not wanted to be saddled with any companions, but the Master Guardians, the only true form of leadership in the freed lands, had insisted. Leonin, for all his sniffling, was a skilled swordsman, while Awrak’s kind were immune to the magical mind tricks this keeper might still be able to use, something the drake could not claim. In fact, it was supposedly because Morgis had been magically distracted that the Aramite had managed his desperate flight out of the city of Luperion.
Everyone, from the simple forest dwellers to the Master Guardians, had come to depend upon him for so much after the Gryphon’s departure that this failure ate at Morgis. He had led armies, seized cities, freed realms. Several times his father had sent missives demanding his return, but Morgis had ignored them. He had no desire to become a Dragon King, no matter the power his father wielded. The drakes were losing their control over that part of the world. Here… here he could carve out a new destiny for himself.
Here he could avoid certain matters.
The keeper could not be far ahead of them and, in truth, even Morgis felt fatigued. Besides, something about this land made him uneasy. Better to traverse it in what laughingly passed for day than to go wandering into some Aramite trap in the dark.
It was nearly night by the time they reached the old building, a once-formidable keep. Judging by what little he could see, the drake guessed that it even preceded the wolf raiders’ empire. A good portion of it had collapsed, but the central building was in surprisingly excellent shape, even with an intact stairway.
The main chamber was clearly empty, but two closed doors at the rear piqued the curiosity of the newcomers. While Awrak and Leonin went to check the one on the right, Morgis investigated the other.
Sword in one hand and torch in the other, the drake kicked open the half-rotted door. A new gust of decay enveloped him. Hissing, Morgis strode in, ready for an ambush.
He found no wolf raiders, but an unsettling sight on the floor set every nerve taut.
Splatters of dried blood decorated the center of the floor, almost as if someone had just died there. Sniffing, Morgis noticed the blood was still fresh enough to have a scent. The battle had been a recent one, anywhere from a week or two to even the previous night.
“Where are you, keeper?” he muttered to the air. Had he found the Aramite’s most recent lair? Some of the other sorcerers’ attempts to regain what they had lost had to do with sacrifices, both animal and otherwise.
A raucous noise above made Morgis look up. Something dropped to the floor just before his face.
The blood-soaked leg of a large rat.
Two cat-sized carrion crows perched atop the rafters, ripping apart the unlucky rodent. A bit of fur wafted its way to the floor, following by a couple of crimson drops.
Sheathing his weapon, the drake grimaced. All he had found was the birds’ feeding place. A life of war had made him almost miss the obvious. He was thankful neither of his companions had seen his reaction. Awrak and Leonin would not have let him hear the end of it.
“The great warrior,” Morgis hissed. “The great fool.”
The Gryphon would have made no such mistake. The Gryphon would have immediately recognized the situation for what it was, not what he expected it to be.
Small wonder that she had fallen for him so completely. How could a monstrous, scaled creature such as himself compare with the ultimate champion?
Retreating from the room, the reptilian knight sought out the rest of his party. To his dismay, however, they were not where they were suppose to be.
With a snarl, Morgis drew his blade again, then stepped to the center of the main chamber. “Leonin! Awrak!”
His shout echoed throughout the keep. He almost called out again, when suddenly he heard movement above and caught a glimpse of torchlight.
Awrak stood atop the stairway, his curved sword ready. From such a view, Morgis could make out the avian’s backward-bending legs and taloned feet, yet another similarity to the Gryphon or the Seekers.
“Will bring down the roof, dragon, the roof you will bring down.”
“What are you doing up there? Isss Leonin there, too?”
The slim form of his other comrade materialized next to the bird man. “No need to shout, Morgis. We and every critter for miles around can hear your booming voice.”
“If you were where you were meant to be, I would not have to shout out your namesss!” He glared at the duo. “Find your treasssure?”
The human’s sour expression gave Morgis some satisfaction. “Just a dress cabinet too big for us to drag along. Nothin’ in it.”
“Then come and help ssset up camp. Can I trussst you pair to deal with the horsesss while I gather wood?”
Leonin nodded. Satisfied, the drake sheathed his sword once more and went outside. He hooked the torch into a hole in the outside wall, then started rummaging around the overgrown foliage nearby.
Whatever else one could say for this misbegotten land, it certainly offered up enough firewood. All Morgis had to do was walk along, tearing off branch after branch. All the trees near the keep had died, some of them long, long ago. After only a few minutes, he had an armful, nearly enough for the entire night.
But as he reached for another branch, something amidst the foliage caught his eye. Squinting in the dark, Morgis thought he made out a rather large shape. It almost looked like-
Then a gasp from further down the hilly path made him forget all about wood and sinister shapes. Morgis threw the firewood aside and peered in the direction of the sound.
A cloaked form ducked into the woods nearby.
Weapon unsheathed, the drake darted to where he had last seen the figure. He found no sign at first, but then the rustling of leaves and branches to the west alerted him. Again he noted the dark outline of someone in a travel cloak.
“Halt! Ssstop where you are!”
The figure hesitated, then hurried on. Slashing his way through the woods, Morgis gave pursuit. The dry limbs readily fell to his massive blade while ahead of him the figure seemed caught by every twig. Nearer and nearer Morgis drew.
As another gasp escaped his quarry, he realized that he pursued a female. She stood as tall as a human, but moved more lithely even despite being slowed constantly by the trees.
But then Morgis had troubles of his own. Catching his foot on an exposed root, the drake found himself falling forward, his blade flying from his grip. He struck the harsh ground with a grunt.
Rather than make use of his blunder, the figure hesitated again. To Morgis’s surprise, she turned back, slowly making her way to him.
Distrustful of this change of heart, he pushed himself up as best he could. His blade lay out of reach, but Morgis had other skills. Not as adept at magic as his sire, he nonetheless could cast a defensive spell in an emergency. It was a secret very few of those he battled beside knew.
But instead of attacking, the cloaked female carefully took his sword up by the point and reached the weapon back to him. Morgis cautiously accepted it, then waited.
“You-you’re real, then,” the shadowed figure uttered.
“Do I ssseem like some figment of your imagination?”
She shook her head. “No. That’s not what I mean. What I mean to say is-is that you’re you. You’re… alive.”
“A trait we share in common.” He held back from any other retorts, though, seeing the fear in her expression. She bundled the cloak tight around her. “You are one of the cat people. One of Troia’sss kind.”
Her large, feline eyes blinked. Of course she did not know Troia, who had become mate to the Gryphon and mother to his children. Troia had stayed in the background, but she had been every bit as much a part of the downfall of the empire as the Gryphon had. With the grace and swiftness of her people, she had leapt into every battle, a true warrior queen in the eyes of many.
