The Shadow's heir

animal spirits, made from starlight, to teach them how to hunt and fight.”

Laela had heard this story before, or thought she had. But not like this.

“When Gryphus saw what the Night God had done,” Aderyn continued, “he knew she was preparing to fight him, and he was angry and jealous at the wonderful race she had blessed. And so he created his own race, and he gave them yellow hair like sunlight and blue eyes like the day-time sky. He made them arrogant and angry like himself and filled them with his burning belief that only he should rule. The Night God’s children saw them, and were frightened, and they turned to her and begged for her protection. She told them she would not make them fight the Sun People; she would fight for them, to protect them. So she crept up on Gryphus while he was asleep, and she took the sickle moon from the sky and stabbed it into his back. His blood made the sunrise, but he survived. They fought all that long day, and neither one was strong enough to win until Gryphus took his own sword and stabbed out the Night God’s eye. Her own blood made the sunset, and she fled back into the night. Then Gryphus summoned his griffins and commanded them to join with his people and attack the Night God’s people. And so they did.” Aderyn paused to take a long drink from her cup. “The Day God and the Night God never fought each other directly again. Instead, their people fought each other in their names. And until the Dark Lord came, we were suffering under Gryphus’ hatred. Now, we are free. And the Night God still watches over us.”

Laela stared into her empty cup. That wasn’t how Dad told it. He always said the Night God attacked Gryphus out of jealousy an’ that she chose her people from the outcasts an’ murderers an’ liars.

“What are ye thinking, girl?” Aderyn interrupted.

Laela looked up. “They tell a different version of that story in the South.”

“Of course.” The priestess nodded. “Gryphus would never let his people think of him as a tyrant.”

“Well,” said Laela. “It’s just that I was wonderin’-there’s two versions of the same story. How do yeh know which one’s the right one?”

“When it comes to the gods, there are two truths,” Aderyn said firmly. “This truth is ours. Theirs is theirs.”

Laela scratched her chin. “I’m sorry, but that doesn’t make a lick of sense to me.”

Aderyn chuckled. “It will one day. Now, we’ve probably done enough today. I’ll see ye here again tomorrow.”

Laela left the Temple deep in thought, with a guard as an escort and guide. She had enjoyed learning about the Night God and how her rituals and Temple worked. . and seeing her future-if that was what it was-had thrilled her. And yet she couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt, deep down. A feeling that, in going into the Temple and listening to the priestess, she had betrayed someone or something.

Gryphus, perhaps? Had she betrayed Gryphus? Did he know what she was doing- did he know about her newfound curiosity in the night’s dark goddess?

Her foster father had taught her that people who betrayed Gryphus were always punished. And she was turning away from Gryphus now-turning away from her father.

No, she told herself. No. It doesn’t matter what I worship-I’ll never stop lovin’ him or rememberin’ him. Day God or Night God-it won’t change nothin’.

And she was a darkwoman. She knew that now. She’d come to the North, she’d chosen to live there, and now she had performed a ritual to the Night God and been shown her future. She’d never even been into one of Gryphus’ temples. She’d never been a part of any of his rituals.

But there had been the dream. .

Dream’s a dream, she thought, almost sternly. An’ that’s what it was. The gods don’t talk t’people like that. Everyone knows it.

She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if the Night God came to her. What would she be like? How would she react to a half-breed living in her land? Would she welcome her as one of her followers, or would she be angry?

Laela sighed. Gah, what’s the point? Think about somethin’ else.

Her empty stomach provided a helpful distraction, and she turned to thinking about dinner, which was waiting for her when she returned to the Eyrie. Tonight there was roasted goat, flavoured with wonderfully tart cymran juice.

Now that was something she could love about her new life. Cymran fruit was horribly expensive-only the rich could afford the stuff, and here she was, eating cymran-juice sauce with her dinner, as if she were a griffiner!

That cheered her up enormously-the very good wine they’d given her helped-and she went back to her room afterward feeling thoroughly happy.

When she opened the door, the first thing she saw was that the lamp was already lit. That surprised her.

When she saw that it was lit because there was someone in there waiting for her, she forgot about the lamp very quickly.

“Yorath!” She shut the door and strode toward him. “What are yeh doin’ here?”

Her tutor stood up. He was dressed much more finely than usual, and his tunic hung partly open, revealing the elaborate spirals tattooed over his chest.

“Laela.”

She relaxed slightly. “Good gods, yeh gave me a fright. What’s up?”

Yorath looked nervous, but confident as well. “I wanted to see ye. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh. . uh, not really. I’ve just come back from dinner.”

He smiled. “I just wanted to tell ye somethin’, that’s all.”

“What is it?”

“Well. .” He scuffed at the floor with his boot. “I just wanted t’say. . I like ye.”

She felt as if a floodgate had opened inside her chest. “Yorath!”

He shrugged. “I just do, that’s all. An’ I wanted to tell ye.”

“Yeh picked an odd time t’do it,” said Laela, her mind racing.

“I know,” Yorath confessed. “I just felt like I had to do it tonight. But I’ll go now, if ye want. .”

He didn’t move.

“Yorath, I like you, too,” said Laela. “I’ve liked yeh since the day we met.”

His eyes lit up. “Ye do?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “No-one here seems t’like me much. . It’s nice t’know at least one of yeh looks forward t’seein’ me an’ smiles when he does.”

Yorath came closer-so close they were almost touching. “Ye’re lonely here, ain’t ye?”

“Yeah, I am, I guess,” Laela mumbled. “I never really thought about it. I ain’t really had no-one to talk to since Dad died.”

“I know it must be hard for ye,” he said softly. “My dad used to tell me about how it was here before the King came. We weren’t allowed t’have weapons, we couldn’t worship our own god-we couldn’t even speak our own language. That’s why we all know Cymrian-once, that was all we could speak. The King tried t’pass a law sayin’ we couldn’t speak Cymrian after he was crowned, but most of the common people can’t remember the dark tongue at all. So he passed a law that all children have t’learn it. The Southerners knocked down the stone circles an’ buried them, an’ we couldn’t tell the old legends or wear the manhood tattoos. We were forgettin’ our own ways. They made us second-class in our own land-anyone who fought back or broke any of their laws was killed, or sold as a slave. It was a crime just to be born dark.”

He said it with so much sincerity, and with such quiet sadness, that it made Laela’s heart ache. “Gods, I’m so selfish,” she muttered. “Always moanin’ about my lot in life, when I know what happened to yeh. To a whole people.”

Yorath smiled slightly. “Ye walk down the street, tryin’ to hide yer face. Ye pretend not to hear, but ye do. Ye always hear it. Hear ’em shout after ye. ‘Blackrobe, moon lover, darkman, heathen scum.’ All ye can do is keep quiet an’ hope they’ll leave ye alone. Because if they decide t’come after ye, ye’re dead, an’ no-one’s going to help ye.”