The Shadow's heir

“Nearly there!” he said, more than once.

Laela ground her teeth. She was too tired to say anything, but her mind was full of possibilities, each one ruder than the last.

Finally, Wolf said, “All right, let’s stop for a rest.”

Laela leant against the wall, then slid down it onto the floor and stayed there.

Wolf sat beside her, hugging his knees. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have far to go now.”

Laela managed to make a sound of mingled pain and disbelief.

Wolf chuckled. “Yes, these stairs actually do have a top. You’ve done very well so far, considering how tired you must be.”

Laela grunted noncommittally.

“Well.” Wolf yawned. “Let’s do this last bit together, shall we?”

Somehow or other, Laela managed to drag herself to her feet. “Where are we?”

“Nearly home,” Wolf said unhelpfully.

Laela muttered curses under her breath as the stairs continued. Wolf seemed to understand, and he didn’t hurry her along. That made her like him a little better.

Finally, finally, the stairs ended at a modest wooden door.

Wolf unlatched it. “Through here,” he said, and pushed it open.

Laela stepped through and into warm firelight. The room on the other side was quite large, and modestly furnished-there was a bearskin rug on the floor, and the walls were lined with wooden panelling. There was a bed there-it looked rather unused-and a very large fireplace. She saw an enormous archway set into the opposite wall, covered by heavy cloth curtains, and wondered briefly where it led to.

There were a couple of chairs in front of the fire, but other than a small writing desk, those were the only other pieces of furniture. Still, it looked like a home. For someone.

Laela collapsed into one of the chairs without waiting to be invited. “Thank Gryphus. I thought. .”

Wolf put her belongings down on the floor and stretched, rubbing his back. “Argh. Ooh. Ow. Bloody thing. You’d think after this long. . well.” He turned to her. “Home sweet home. What d’you think?”

“It’s nice,” said Laela. She paused. “What’s that smell?”

It was a strange heavy, almost spicy smell. Musty. It made her think of some kind of animal.

Wolf sniffed. “What smell? Ah, this cloth’s stopping me from smelling anything. Wait a moment. . I may as well take it off now.”

He pulled off his gloves and tossed them onto the bed, and Laela saw the long, elegant Northern fingers on his right hand as he pulled the hood away and shook out his hair. It was black, of course-long, thick, and curly. He took off the heavy cloak that had hidden most of his body, and then untied the cloth from his face and turned to face her.

He was a young man-probably no older than her. He was tall and lean like most Northerners, and carried himself with a certain grace. His face was pale and angular, marred by a long, twisted scar under one eye, and he wore a neat, pointed chin-beard.

He shook himself. “That’s better. This is my face.” His eyes smiled again, but now Laela could see his mouth, she didn’t see it smile, too.

“Er. .”

Wolf shook his head and turned away. “I’ll just get changed if you don’t mind.”

Without another word, he took off the tunic he was wearing and put it away in a box next to the bed. As he straightened up, Laela felt her stomach lurch.

He was hideously scarred. She had never imagined that anyone could be so deeply wounded so many times and in so many different places, and still be alive. Pale lines traced their way over his skin, interspersed with ugly red marks where the cuts had gone deeper. He looked as if he had been stabbed over and over again.

The worst of them was in the middle of his back, just to the left of his spine. It was as wide as her hand, and its edges were swollen and blackened, as if they were rotting. As he turned toward her, Laela saw its twin on his chest, over his heart.

Oh, Gryphus, she thought, nearly sick with horror. It went right through him. .

Wolf suddenly looked embarrassed. “Oh, gods, I’m sorry. I forgot. .” He hastily snatched up a piece of clothing that was lying on the bed and slipped into it.

It was a long, black robe, beautifully decorated with embroidered spiral patterns and tailored to fit his slim body. He did up the fastenings over his chest, fumbling with his left hand. The fingers on it were twisted and bent at unnatural angles, and the forefinger looked completely paralysed.

Laela found her voice. “What happened to yeh?”

Wolf looked grim. “Too much.”

She stood up and came toward him, forgetting her fear. “All them scars. .” She reached out to touch his hand, and he let her hold it and turn it over, touching the warped fingers. They were painfully red and swollen around the knuckles, and they cracked horribly when they moved. “Gods. Yer fingers. . what happened?”

Wolf looked back at her, his expression curiously ashamed. “Laela. .”

She let go and stepped back, suddenly horrified. “Oh, Gryphus, I didn’t mean. . I’m sorry, I-”

Wolf clutched at his ruined hand. “Nobody’s ever touched it like that before,” he said. He sounded a little shaky. “Nobody. . nobody likes to go near it. I know it looks ugly. . I try to keep it covered up. .” He rubbed it nervously, until the fingers cracked.

“What happened?” said Laela. “How did yeh get all them scars? What did they do to yeh?”

“My fingers. .” He wrapped them in his other hand to hide them. “This is what they do to you when they want information.”

Laela went cold. “Torture?”

“Yes.”

She shuddered. “The King lets them do that to his people? What kind’ve monster is he?”

“A monster,” Wolf snapped. “Hah! The Southerners did that to me. In a cell under this very city. Broke my fingers. . one. . by one.”

“Griffiners?” said Laela. “Griffiners do that?”

“Always have,” said Wolf. “But I was dangerous. . a dangerous criminal. I had information they desperately wanted. I didn’t give it to them. And I made them pay. I made them pay a hundred times. Didn’t fix my fingers, though, did it?”

Laela stared at him. Against her will, she thrilled at his words. “What had yeh done?”

“You don’t want to know,” said Wolf. “Now, as far as. .”

“Where are we?” Laela asked suddenly. “What buildin’ is this? Why all those stairs?”

Wolf looked incredulous. “You don’t know?”

“Wait. We ain’t-”

“We’re in the Eyrie, Laela,” said Wolf. “This is my home. This is where I live and work. . This is my prison. Of course, my guards don’t know I sneak out most nights.”

A horrible fear and bewilderment ate away at her. “No. This ain’t. . this ain’t. . Who are yeh?”

Wolf tugged at his beard. “I know,” he said wretchedly. “I shouldn’t have brought you back here, but what was I to do? You needed help, and I couldn’t bring myself to leave you. .”

Laela turned sharply as he suddenly stopped talking and looked to his left.

The curtains over the archway had moved. Laela could hear something stirring on the other side.

“Gods damn it!” Wolf cursed. “Laela, stay behind me.”

He pushed her behind him and stepped toward the archway, but too late. They parted, and something pushed its way through.

Laela staggered backward, wide-eyed, and fell.

It was a griffin. . the biggest griffin she had ever seen-the biggest living creature she had ever seen, or imagined. Its birdlike forequarters were covered in silver feathers, but the magnificent head had a diamond-shaped