The Shadow's heir

Laela blinked. “The what?”

“Oh-of course, you don’t know what it is.” Arenadd’s eyes glinted. “The Blood Moon is a very important time for us. A sacred night. It’s a time when the Night God is very close to the mortal world. When that happens, her power weakens, and she needs an offering of blood to save her. I thought our good friend Aled would be a perfect candidate.”

Laela blanched. “What?”

“Tomorrow night, I have to sacrifice someone,” Arenadd explained blandly. “I chose him. I thought you might be pleased to know.”

“Yer gonna kill him?” said Laela.

“It’s always a condemned criminal,” said Arenadd. “As long as it’s Northern blood, she doesn’t care. Anyway.” He drew himself up. “I have things to do, so I’ll leave you to have lunch in peace.”

7

The Blood Moon

Lying comfortably in his nest, Skandar snuggled deeper into the dry reeds and straw.

“Human sad,” he rasped.

Arenadd, sitting near his head, sighed. “Yes.”

“Always sad!” Skandar said, in an almost accusing tone. “When not sad, human?”

“I don’t know.”

The dark griffin nudged at him, none too gently. “Why sad? You, me, live together. Have good food-have females, good nest! Have good land. Why sad?”

“Why am I sad?” Arenadd buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know; what right do I have? Skandar, I can’t live like this. I can’t.”

“Why not live?” said Skandar. He sounded unhappy. “What not right?”

Arenadd raised his head but stopped abruptly and cringed before he could speak. His hand went to his chest, and he groaned. “Ugh. .”

“Hurt,” Skandar said softly.

Arenadd sat very still, teeth gritted until the pain subsided. “Yes,” he panted. “Every so often.”

“But pain is not why sad,” said Skandar.

Arenadd looked away from him, out through the archway at the dark sky. “I can’t live without her, Skandar. I just can’t. Every day, waking up and knowing she’s gone. .”

Skandar clicked his beak. “Female gone!” he said. “You not gone! Other female come-you Master. Good strong human-all female want!”

“That’s different!” Arenadd snapped. “It’s not all about. . mating, Skandar. I didn’t love any of those women. I loved. . her. And I. .” His voice faltered. “I let her die.”

Skandar shuffled closer to him and pressed the side of his head against Arenadd’s shoulder. “Am not dead,” he said. “Am still here. You still here.”

Arenadd ran his fingers through the warm black feathers on the top of his friend’s head. “I know. I should let her go. . She’d want me to. She’d want me to move on-but to what? I feel like the Kingdom barely needs me. . Most of the people in the Eyrie certainly don’t want me-not Saeddryn, that’s for sure. And now. .” His eyes narrowed, and he stilled. “And now her. This girl. Why did I find her? Why is she here? Why. .?”

“Is female,” Skandar said dismissively. “Is another human.”

“But there’s something about her,” said Arenadd. “Something. . something. She reminds me of. . of something. Someone. But I don’t know who, or why. I don’t know, Skandar. . I want her to like me, trust me-but why would she? Why would anyone?”

Skandar chirped. “Not need female. Have me. Have Skandar trust, like.”

“Yes. Yes, I certainly do. But I need other humans, too, Skandar.”

“Skra!” Skandar snorted. “Why need human? Human lie, human weak. I not lie, not weak.”

“No. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Skandar-and don’t let me ever tell you otherwise.”

“You do great thing, Arenadd,” said Skandar. “Give me all you promise-all I want. You, only human I like. Best human. My human.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Skandar. You know that.”

“Yes. Know that.”

They sat together in companionable silence for a while, each busy with his own thoughts.

“Who am I, Skandar?” Arenadd said at last. “Who was I? Who died to create me?”

Skandar only stared at him, uncomprehending.

“I was someone before I fell,” said Arenadd. “I had another. . I had a life. Before I was dead. Before I was this. This thing, this monster, this Dark Lord.”

“Why want know?” said Skandar.

“Because that was me, Skandar,” said Arenadd. “If I could only remember. .”

“Skandar remember,” said Skandar. “I live in mountain nest. Look for human. No human talk. One day, you come. See you, think, human different. Human have dark fur, like Skandar. Try and take you, other griffin protect you. White griffin. I kill. Then you-you put me in. . thing. . cage. You take me back to place-human nest. I watch you, think you strong. You leave me, other human make me fight. Kill human-many human. Kill griffin. Always wait for you to come back. You special human. Then you come to place. . fighting place. . you come back. I catch you, not kill you. Tell you, ‘Set me free, or I kill you.’ You promise. You come later-night. Set me free, and I kill many human. I fly away from human nest, not know where to go. Hear you call. Find you. Hurt. See you die. Use magic, you wake up. Then you, me, go back to nest. Kill human, griffin. Then we fly away, and you my human. Then come North.”

Arenadd nodded. “You told me that much. I captured you, and later on you forced me to set you free. But why did I capture you in the first place? Why was I living in the South if I wasn’t a Southerner or a slave? What was my name?”

“Not remember human name,” said Skandar.

“But I want to know. And I want to know why I forgot.”

Skandar yawned. “Maybe Night God know,” he said unexpectedly.

Arenadd’s fists clenched. “Yes. And I intend to make her tell me.”

The Blood Moon ceremony took place the following night in the Moon Temple out in the city. The Temple had been built on the site of the old Sun Temple on Arenadd’s orders, as a deliberate sneering gesture at Gryphus, the Day God. He’d always thought the Night God appreciated it.

The witnesses had already gathered by the time Arenadd made his entrance-alone, as tradition demanded. He came in via the dark wood doors and walked slowly toward the altar, admiring his surroundings along the way.

The Temple had been designed to look like a forest. The pillars that held up the roof were covered in tiny brown tiles that spread onto the floor in the stylised shapes of roots, and here and there lantern-holder “branches’ jutted out from them. The lamps they held were silver and had blue glass, so the light they gave off was cool and muted.

There were no benches or seats of any kind, and the gathered worshippers were standing. More than two hundred of them had crammed themselves into the Temple, and more were standing in the street outside. Many of them reached out to touch Arenadd’s robe as he passed. He paused to touch some of them in return, sometimes