The roar of approval that bellows out of all the gryphons surrounding us shocks me. Wekun explained that the gryphons here were exiled for one reason or another, and I’m completely taken aback by the longing and determination I feel all around me, to take back what was taken from them. I look around, and for the first time, I don’t see a fragile and wilted people, I see belief and fortitude.
It fills me to the brim with conviction and hope. Now all I need to do is find the words to break the Vow.
15
“So I said to him, I wish you could use the sword between your thighs as well as the one in your hand.”
Raucous laughter shoots up all around me, and Cree downs her drink and wipes her mouth as her tankard plops back down to the table.
“And that’s how I got this scar,” she states, pointing to the nick in her ear.
I give a small chuckle and take a tentative sip of my own drink. It’s mead, which should make me happy, but I find myself drifting off to thoughts that just don’t support frivolous joy at the moment. Maybe I’ve reached the sad-drunk portion of the night, or maybe there’s just too much going on for me to really let go. Plus, Wekun was right, Cree can talk about her scars like Bubba Gump talks about shrimp.
They’re all entertaining stories, and it seems everyone around us has their favorite they like her to tell, but my heart isn’t into the carefree night it seems Cree and her people are up for. I’m happy to say that after the fight, Cree seems more normal and less “covetous bitch.”
I must have passed all her tests, because she’s been nothing but welcome and kind since we all traipsed in here to indulge in some day drinking. The sun has long since tucked itself into bed though, and I keep thinking about my dad and everything he told me the other night when my marks returned. His sad eyes and strong hug haunt me tonight. I can’t help feeling like time is running out and I’m still trying to put everything together.
I take another sip of my drink and force a smile as more laughter titters around me. I pretend like I’m participating in the girl chat, but I’m far away in Vedan, and in Colorado, trying to remember the things my dad taught me. I keep expecting the words to tumble out of my mind like a long-lost key clanging to the ground and making its presence known, but nothing happens. He said I already knew; the problem is I can’t remember.
Maybe when I’m done here, Wekun can try to hypnotize me or something, because the answers are in my head, I just need to shake them out somehow. I look up, feeling bad that he wasn’t allowed to join in on the fun. I tried to vouch for him, but it’s clear the gryphons aren’t a fan. I thought that maybe they take issue with the kind of magic he has, but Bond magic is laced in my blood too, and here I am. Guess it still is a Gryphon versus the Ouphe thing, even if the camps here are reliant on each other. That appears to be a begrudging thing they all try to ignore.
Someone else is telling a story now, but I can’t focus on it. I can feel Zeph’s, Treno’s, and Ryn’s eyes weighing me down, and their presence makes everything feel even more complicated. I’ve been ignoring them all night. Wisely, they haven’t approached me, but the stage five clinger alert is fucking strong.
I try to push thoughts of them out of my mind for the thousandth time tonight. There’s no amount of alcohol that will help me untangle the mess between us; I just wish my body and mind could come to some sort of agreement on that. It also doesn’t help that Pigeon is once again in a forgiving mood. Shit is so much easier for me when she hates them too.
The intense need to pee suddenly takes over my senses. I quickly chug down the rest of my drink so my relieving my bladder doesn’t completely fuck with my buzz, and focus on trying to get my fizzy body to whatever bucket around here has been designated as a bathroom.
I push away from the table, and Cree looks over at me expectantly.
“I need to piss like a racehorse,” I announce, and she smiles, confusion sparkling in her glassy gaze.
Shit, they don’t know what horses are, I realize.
“It’s an animal we have where I’m from. They have four legs, long noses and they run really fast,” I quickly explain. I take my index and middle finger and crisscross them quickly as I try to explain that they run. I then make my hand rear up and release a neigh, which for some reason, makes all the females sitting at the table with me crack up, like I just told the best joke.
I shrug and chuckle, their mirth a little contagious, and then my bladder gets all threatening, and I quickly make my way out of the tent that serves as this place’s bar, in search of a tent or bush I can piss in.
Bush it is, I decide as I stumble behind the bar tent into the night in search of a good place to do my thing. I spot one of those weird looking crystal trees and stomp over to it, unlacing my pants and crouching down, the trunk hiding me from view. My mind wanders as
