The Shadow's heir

not very interesting anyway,” she mumbled, and went to stuff it back into the box.

As she lifted the lid, she heard the door open behind her. Oeka started up aggressively but backed down a moment later. Laela’s eyes narrowed.

“If yeh ain’t come to apologise, then yeh can go away,” she said, without turning around.

Arenadd stepped into her field of vision. “I have, actually.”

Laela closed the box and turned to face him. “Is that so?” She folded her arms. “Well, that’s good, because the next time yeh insult me or my mother, I’m leavin’. Understand?”

Arenadd rubbed his forehead. “Yes, perfectly. But listen, you don’t-”

“Yeah, I’m a half-breed,” Laela interrupted. “I think we all know that by now. But I thought it didn’t make a difference to you.”

“It doesn’t, Laela. Honestly.”

“Well, that ain’t the way it looks to me right now,” said Laela. She took a deep breath, to stop herself from outright shouting at him, but it only half-worked. “How dare you go sneerin’ at my mother like that?” she snarled. “Yeah, she was a Southerner, an’ I get that you don’t like ’em, but that doesn’t give yeh any right to be like that about it.”

Arenadd winced. “I know. I’m sorry. I was. . I shouldn’t have joked about it like that. I was embarrassed.”

“Why, because the ambassador thought I was yer daughter?” Laela hesitated. “I. . I’m not, am I?”

“No,” said Arenadd. “I can’t father children; you know that. And I’d never-”

“Never go with a Southern woman,” said Laela, more sharply than she meant to.

“I would never rape a woman,” Arenadd said in icy tones. “No matter who that woman was.”

Laela relaxed slightly. “I’m sorry. I’d never think about yeh like that. I swear.”

“I know.” Arenadd hesitated. “Laela, I was embarrassed because Vander isn’t the only one who thinks you’re my daughter.”

Laela frowned. “He ain’t?”

“Half the Eyrie thinks it,” Arenadd said baldly. “Haven’t you been listening? It’s everybody’s favourite piece of gossip.”

“Is it?” Laela didn’t know whether to be amused or horrified.

“Trust me; I make a point of listening to what people are saying,” said Arenadd. “But it’s an explanation that makes sense to people. Where did the King find this strange girl who looks like him, and how did she get to such a powerful position so quickly? Obviously, it’s because she’s his secret child. His secret half- breed child, which is why he won’t admit it to anyone.”

Laela’s heart sank. “Gods, I’m sorry. They must be sayin’ awful things about yeh.”

“They are,” said Arenadd. He smiled slightly. “You’ve made me quite unpopular.”

All of Laela’s anger toward him vanished and was replaced by embarrassment and a strange feeling of shame. “Should I just go, then?”

“No!” Arenadd shook himself. “No. I need you here.”

“Why?”

He hesitated, just for a moment, and then smiled-genuinely, this time, and put his good hand on her shoulder. “Where would I be without my chief advisor?”

In the end, Laela didn’t show the letter to Yorath. On the evening after their argument, Arenadd sent her a brief message, to the effect that the negotiations with Vander were done and that he and Laela would be leaving with him in four days.

When she went to visit Yorath that night, all she could talk about was Amoran.

“Isn’t it amazin’?” she exclaimed, bright-eyed. “We’re goin’ all the way over the sea! Half the people I knew when I was a girl thought Amoran was just a legend-it’s that far away an’ whatnot. An’ I get t’go there! An’ I’ll stay in the Emperor’s palace, an’ meet all his officials, an’ they’ll give me gifts an’ show me all sorts of amazin’ things, I just know it! I can’t hardly wait!” She stopped herself with an effort and looked at Yorath. “Ain’t yeh excited?”

He smiled uneasily. “I’m excited for ye, Laela.”

Laela took his hand. “But yeh get to see it, too, don’t forget.”

“I’m not coming, Laela.”

All her excitement drained out of her. “What? What d’yeh mean yeh ain’t comin’? The King said-”

“He asked me to come,” said Yorath. “But I said I’d prefer not to, an’ he said it was fine an’ if I felt that way, he’d teach you your lessons himself.”

“But why don’t yeh want t’come?” said Laela. “Yorath, I’m gonna be away for a year an’ all-how can yeh want t’just stay home?”

“I want t’come, Laela,” Yorath said unhappily. “I do, an’ I’ll miss ye something terrible, I know. But I can’t go away for a year, even if I’m paid well for it. My dad needs me to look after him. He’s not well, Laela.”

A quick memory of her own father flashed into her mind. “Well,” she mumbled. “If that’s how it is, then I guess yeh’d better stay.”

“Please, don’t be angry with me, Laela,” said Yorath.

She smiled and caressed his hair. “I ain’t, yeh daft bugger. I looked after my dad when he was sick, too, an’ I know what it’s like. I’d never want t’make yeh leave him.”

Yorath smiled back, with more than a little relief. “It wasn’t easy for me to decide. I don’t know how I’ll cope without ye for so long.”

“As long as yer waitin’ for me when I get back, I’ll be happy,” said Laela. She moved closer to him, her hand still on the back of his head. “Have a little somethin’ to remember me by, why don’t yeh? I got time.”

Yorath was more than happy to oblige, and they fell back onto his bed, pulling at each other’s clothes.

Laela loved it; she’d loved it more every time. Yorath’s touch helped dull the pain of knowing they would have to part, and she thrust the knowledge aside and lost herself in his body yet again.

Four days later, she and Arenadd were ready to leave. Laela had long since packed, and waited while the King got his affairs in order-appointing different people to take up his various duties, giving orders for what they should do if certain things came up, and so on and so forth. Laela had to go with him and listen while he did all of that; it was incredibly boring most of the time, but she went along dutifully, and learnt a fair bit about the things a ruler had to do. A lot of it was surprisingly mundane.

On the last morning before they were due to leave, Arenadd and Laela took some time for a final lesson in the audience chamber. That was mostly because Laela had asked for it; she was bored to death of talking to an endless list of officials and wanted to spend more time with Oeka and learn about her.

“Tell me about magic,” she told Arenadd. “I want t’know how they use it an’ that.”

Arenadd paced back and forth, idly flourishing his sickle. “I can’t tell you too much, I’m afraid; griffins don’t like to talk about magic. Not to humans. It’s almost their religion.”

“What can yeh tell me?”

He threw the sickle upward with a quick flick of his wrist and caught it easily by the handle. “Every griffin has its own power, as I think you already know by now, but they aren’t born knowing how to use it. As far as I know, each griffin discovers his or her particular gift when they’re at least ten years old-in other words, when they’re big enough and strong enough to deal with the strain of using it. Magic takes a lot out of them, you see. It taps directly into their life-force. Using too much can put them in a coma for days, or even kill them.”

Laela rubbed Oeka’s head. “What’s your power, then, Greeneyes?”

Oeka clicked her beak.

“She probably doesn’t know,” said Arenadd. “She’s only about seven years old, by my guess.”

The tawny griffin rose suddenly, pushing Laela’s hand away. “Eeee kree oo eia,” she said, slowly and deliberately.

Arenadd put his sickle back into his belt with an interested expression. “She said, ‘I will show you my magic.’”

Laela stood up. “Show us, Oeka!”

The small griffin stood for a moment, tail swishing. She lowered her head, and a strange stillness came over her.