The Shadow's heir

Laela gingerly touched the edge, wanting to test its sharpness. “It’s beautiful. I can’t believe- gah!”

“I should have warned you about that,” said Arenadd. “Are you all right?”

Laela rubbed her bleeding finger on her dress. “Fine. What’m I meant t’do with it?”

“What I tell you to,” said Arenadd. “It’s time you started learning how to fight.”

Laela spent most of that day with the sickle in her hand, practising the different blows and blocks Arenadd showed her.

“Do it over and over again,” he said. “And then do it some more. Do it until it’s second nature-until your body remembers how to do it. Muscles have memory.”

Laela set to work.

By evening, she was exhausted and irritable-something that wasn’t helped by the constant, sickly rocking of the ship. She and Arenadd retired to their cabin, where food had been laid out for them. Before she ate, Laela had to feed Oeka-taking the bloody haunch provided and cutting strips off it. The finicky griffin had refused to take it any other way and wouldn’t take food from anybody else. At first, Laela had found this cute and flattering, but by now she’d realised what it really was: the griffin’s way of showing her exactly where she stood.

Still, it was a small enough price to pay. For now, at least.

Afterward, Laela washed the gore off her hands and sat down with Arenadd-who had politely waited for her before beginning to eat.

“Yeh didn’t have t’do that. It’s probably gone cold by now.”

Arenadd shrugged and reached for the cheese. “Eat up. We’re ready to move on to something a little less tiring now.”

Over dinner, he resumed teaching her griffish. Laela, who had never been formally educated until her adoption into Malvern, was beginning to find it boring, but she said nothing and persevered-knowing the eventual reward would make it worthwhile. And she was far too proud to even think of how humiliating it would be if she were the only griffiner who couldn’t speak griffish. Not knowing Northern was bad enough.

Oeka gulped down the last of her food and listened with interest. Now she’d been taught some respect, the human was working hard at being a worthy griffiner. Oeka was pleased. She’d already done well by claiming the human before one of the larger griffins did; Oeka knew that being a youngster meant it was harder to take the best humans without being challenged. But the others in the Hatchery knew better than to interfere with her-she’d discovered her power early on, and once they knew what it could do, the others left her alone.

I have come far in little time, Oeka thought. As my power means I should. This human will serve me well.

The small griffin’s eyes narrowed on Laela, awkwardly stumbling her way through a griffish phrase. At first she’d disliked the idea of leaving Malvern for so long, but by now Oeka had decided it was for the best. Better to have time to break her human in, unmolested. By the time they returned, she would have her well trained and ready to take all the Kingdom had to offer.

21

Kissing the Snake

Three months passed.

The ship reached Maijan and docked there to take on fresh supplies. The Amorani-controlled island was big enough to support two small cities and even a few griffiners. Lord Vander went ashore with Ymazu to speak to them, and Arenadd went, too. Laela went with him, more than happy to have solid ground under her feet again.

They spent two days in Maijan, and Laela took the opportunity to explore the port-town where they’d docked, with Oeka by her side. The locals were a friendly enough lot-obviously used to visits from their pale neighbours. Most of them spoke some Cymrian, and they received Laela with great interest, many of them pointing out her blue eyes and chattering animatedly among themselves. At first, Laela was offended, but she quickly realised that their interest was nothing but friendly curiosity, and after that she began to find it vaguely enjoyable.

Once the supplies were on board and Arenadd and Vander had completed their business on the island (and Skandar had taken the opportunity to acquaint himself with the handful of female griffins who lived on it), the Seabreath departed.

For the next few weeks, they followed the chain of small islands that Maijan belonged to, anchoring beside one or two of them so the griffins could go ashore. Most of the human passengers went, too, Laela among them, though she spent most of her time on dry land training with Arenadd in the art of the sickle. She could feel herself getting better at it all the time.

She was almost sad when the time came to leave the islands behind and strike out over the Armourfish Sea.

The weather had been growing steadily warmer and warmer as they sailed further east, and by the time they were a month out of Maijan, it was sweltering.

The Northerners, used to cold, looked as if all their energy had been drained out of them. They stayed belowdecks, moaning and grumbling among themselves and trying to cool down by soaking their clothes in sea- water. Laela, too, suffered in the heat, which grew unbearably as the weeks dragged by. She couldn’t believe that any place could possibly be this hot, and almost dreaded what it would be like when they were actually in Amoran.

But as unhappy as they were, nobody looked as miserable as Arenadd did.

The King scarcely moved during the day, and was pale and tight-lipped whenever he was awake. He became snappish and irritable during Laela’s lessons, and only sheer exhaustion stopped them from outright arguing.

Eventually, after what looked like a very unpleasant struggle, Arenadd gave up and took his robe off-going bare-chested like the other men on board. His scars looked even more hideous under the harsh sun and attracted plenty of morbid conversation, which he obviously didn’t appreciate.

Skandar wasn’t much happier than his human. Laela started visiting him with Arenadd as an excuse to get out of the sun, and she was shocked when she saw how thin the huge griffin had become. Whoever had made the stall he was living in had done his best, but it just wasn’t big enough for him. His fur and feathers had become dull and matted from too little grooming. His stall hadn’t been cleaned out properly and stank, but though he’d been lying in it so long that he was developing pressure sores on his paws, he refused to go out into the blazing sun.

By the time Arenadd intervened, the dark griffin’s temper had snapped, and he had begun lashing out at anyone who came close.

Laela, too sensible to try and go too close, hung back and watched while Arenadd did his best to calm his friend down. Eventually, Skandar groaned and laid his head on his talons, and Arenadd could go in and clear away as much of the mess as he could.

Laela realised he was swearing. “We’ve got t’get him out of here,” she said. “He needs-”

“I know what he needs,” Arenadd growled without turning around. “That doesn’t mean he’ll look for it. Go back up on deck and see if you can find someone who knows where to find some ointment for these sores.”

Laela nodded brusquely and left.

As she and Oeka climbed the ramp back to the deck, Laela heard shouting. “What’s goin’ on up there?” she mumbled.

Outside, there was furious activity. The captain was yelling orders at his men, most of whom were already dashing off to follow them. There were some griffiners about, most of them looking anxious and uncertain.

Laela squinted irritably in the sun and stumped over to the nearest person. “What’s goin’ on? Why’s everyone shoutin’? I already got enough of a bloody headache.”