Chapter Thirty-Four: Shiny Things

To the cliff’s edge they marched, a restless wave of horses and riders. They were shipmen at the mast, braving the beating winds as they sailed straight for the storm. At road’s end, windswept grass gave way to plunging rock formations and a sheer drop into the canyon so far below. The riders divided into two groups. Cemil stood at the head of the larger company, with Sakina at the other, comprising about eight soldiers as well as a secret Tolmish prince.

“Are they really going down into the canyon?” he asked her privately as the mounted soldiers finished assuming their formation for the ride ahead. “Won’t they be—um, easy targets for the gryphons?” The phrase he would’ve used in his own language was sitting ducks.

“Don’t worry,” Sakina said. Then, correcting herself with a wry smile, “Well…worry if you must. But we have a secret weapon.”

Osmund stared. She looked like she expected him to guess. “Me,” she answered herself, winking. “But I need eyes and ears up here. You can help with that, can’t you?”

“O-of course! I mean. I’ll do what I can.”

She smiled at him, as if his assurances meant anything to a woman who could summon massive light constructs from her palms and swing them around like toys. “I’ll hold you to that, then. Don’t let me down.”

Cemil and Anaya cantered up alongside them. Osmund’s heart clenched. The moment of parting was already here.

“Are you prepared?” Cemil asked of them, though he was the one getting ready to lead a raid on a gryphon lair! “If you have any doubts, speak.”

Sakina shook her head. “We’re ready,” she said.

Cemil’s gaze traveled from her, to Osmund, to the rest. “Remember what I said,” he instructed sternly. “If a gryphon flies up to engage, forget us and save yourselves.”

“That won’t happen,” Sakina declared. She seemed irritated for some reason. “I won’t lead them up here.”

“Swear it to me.”

Osmund looked between the both of them, awkward. He still had no idea what this plan entailed. Finally Sakina relented. “Alright, Cemil, I promise. In the event of my negligence, we’ll run.”

Cemil looked ready to argue the point some more, but he relented too. “Thank you,” he said simply. Osmund felt the weight of his gaze as it lingered on him. “We’ll meet again after it’s done.”

He was going to leave without saying a real goodbye. Osmund nearly lurched out of the saddle to stop him. “Cemil,” he said urgently.

“Osmund, what is it?”

Osmund blushed, switching to Tolmish before he continued. “Um…be safe,” he bid, his voice a barely-there breath. He forced himself not to look away. “And…I love you. Come back to us when it’s over.”

Cemil’s eyes widened slightly. There was a brief pause as his throat bobbed. Beneath him, Anaya’s neck swayed back and forth impatiently. At last he gave a tiny nod. “Be safe, Osmund,” he said, and then he really was leaving. Osmund watched his retreating back as he joined the soldiers by the pass, and kept on watching as they started to disappear down the slope. Down, down, until the Meskato prince had vanished completely.

He was still staring at that empty space where Cemil had been when he felt the presence of Sakina and her white-gold horse just beside him.

“What did you tell him?”

Osmund rubbed his nose, finally tearing his eyes away as he made the switch back to Meskato. “…Something I would regret not telling him.” He wasn’t as embarrassed as he thought he’d be—he supposed that would come later. Maybe it was unfair of him to hit Cemil with a love confession as he was preparing to lead a dangerous mission. It was a total romance novel move, to be honest, and those books probably weren’t written as guides to navigating real-life relationships. Still, he was happy he’d been brave enough to say it. Even if Cemil hadn’t said it back.

“I hope fate honors all of our courage today,” Sakina said. It had the air of a quotation, and Osmund looked at her.

“Is that a Meskato saying?”

Her voice was faint, and so was the laugh inside it, both carrying away on the wind. “You know, I’m not sure. I don’t know where I heard it from.”

And then she was leading her mount to the ridge’s lip, overlooking the canyon below. With an anxious heart, Osmund joined her. They saw the indistinguishable dots of the soldiers making their descent. It wouldn’t be long until they reached the floor of the ravine.

Sakina lifted her hands, palms to the earth. A look of great concentration tugged at her features.

Light. Then, life!

A flurry of tiny wings took to the skies in a blinding flash. Osmund lifted a hand to shield his eyes at the moment of creation. “Living constructs!” he cried in amazement. They resembled little birds, darting in the air above their creator. Each seemed to have a mind of its own. “Sakina…this is advanced magic!”

He noticed a glint of sweat on her brow. “It’s no small party trick,” she told him. “If we are attacked, I’m afraid I won’t be much help.”

“You’ll still be able to ride, though?”

“…I can ride.”

Something about her expression unsettled him. But he had to take her at her word. What other option was there?

As the blended shapes of the Meskato riders—scarcely more than specks of color now—spilled out into the canyon below, Sakina sent forth her army to join them. In a golden cloud the little creatures descended, shimmering beneath the sun like a mirage. Osmund didn’t know what to expect until he caught movement from the opposing cliff face.

There! …Gryphons shot out of their lairs, shrieking as they attacked the constructs!

“We tested this on a smaller scale,” Sakina explained, strain coloring her voice. “They’re drawn to attack shiny things. They—ah.”

Osmund jolted in alarm, turning to see her shudder. He’d just seen a gryphon swallow up one of her light creatures in midair, the way the bats hunted beneath the belfry of Valcrest Castle. “Sakina?!”

“I’m fine.” She inhaled a deep, trembling breath. “There’s just—so many.”

His anxious gaze returned to the scene below. With the gryphons thrown into a frenzy over the aerial swarm, the riders swept beneath the trees unnoticed. Their target was the network of caves hewn into the cliffs where the gryphons made their nests. Osmund knew there were light and ice mages among them, ready to conjure the ramps and scaffolding that the party would need for their approach. If Sakina could just keep the beasts distracted a while longer—

But to do that, she needed to be able to concentrate. Osmund longed to keep watching—as if he, too, could keep Cemil safe with his vigil—but instead he pulled on the reins.

“Let’s go, girl,” he murmured to Banu as they spun carefully in place. They needed a spot where he could keep watch over Sakina as she worked. The other soldiers in their small party were barely vigilant, their expressions complacent, almost bored. If Osmund held any sway with them at all, he’d give them a dressing-down.

He led Banu a short ways up the incline until he had an unimpeded view of their surroundings. Like this, they’d be sure to spot any lone individual returning from the hunt. The skies were wide and empty, he noted with satisfaction. Clear skies meant no gryphons. They were safe.

Unfortunately, that was where he was wrong.

Since he was a young lad, Osmund had been learning an important lesson about wild creatures. There was actually a Tolmish proverb about it: when the houndsman believes himself an expert, the heavens send him a pup that talks, just to mess with him. The lesson was that no matter how well you thought you knew an animal, be it cat or cow or carrier pigeon, you could never discount the possibility that they would do something to totally surprise you.

It made sense. Horses were the same way. And weren’t people?

Gryphons lived in their cliffside lairs, leaving only to hunt, which they did from the air. So said every book on the subject.

Therefore when Osmund, ever alert, spied the conspicuous rustle of brush over by a thicket of trees about sixty meters to their right, his first thought wasn’t gryphon.

The thing emerging from that dense throng of trees was slow-moving and massive, like a titan issuing forth from the earth. As it rose from its midday nap, it shook itself clean of clinging dirt and stray leaves, an action so ordinary and animalistic. Osmund’s dreamlike disbelief morphed brilliantly into vibrant, shooting fear.

Fly away. Fly away. Don’t look at us!

The monster’s eyes locked onto their party, and on Sakina’s unwitting form. Its head lowered in feline interest, a hunter spotting a convenient meal. Osmund didn’t wait another second. He spurred Banu down the hill.

“Sakina!” he hollered as he got close. “To the right! Gryphon!”

Sakina’s head jerked upwards. Her arms trembled, but didn’t lower.

Every head swiveled with the mighty bellow that followed. The gryphon had started to charge. Its enormous wings were beating as if it meant to take off, but its gaze never strayed.

The soldiers came out of their stupor, kicking their mounts into action and forming a defensive line around Sakina. “Ready to move out!” one of them cried.

“I’m not leaving!” Her voice was ragged. “Flee if you must!”

They were thrown into disarray. Two men turned and ran, dutifully following Cemil’s orders (and clearly valuing their own lives). The others formed an unsure formation, weapons raised as if they meant to face the gryphon head-on.

“Sakina!” Osmund tried again once he’d reached her. Banu was stamping her feet fretfully in the chaos. “What are you doing?! We have to leave!”

“They need me down there!”

“You’ll die!”

“Yes! Now shut up and get out of here!”

There was no more time—the creature was upon them. On the right, a Meskato imperial mage sent a burst of flame at the gryphon’s face. It shrieked and reared back, thrashing its fearsome wings to kick up a storm.

In the whipping wind and dust, all except Sakina rushed to shield their faces. One rider toppled from her mount. Her horse narrowly avoided trampling her as it fled; Osmund didn’t see what happened to the unfortunate woman after that. Jumping into the fray, two soldiers attempted to corral the gryphon with their spears, but it was too big. On the defensive like this, there was no room to maneuver.

This looked bad. The gryphon was on a rampage, and they were outmatched. If this continued on, they were going to be wiped out!

“Don’t back down!” Sakina screamed, coiled strands clinging to the sweat on her cheek as she focused with all her might. “I need more time!”

Osmund didn’t know what to do! It wouldn’t make any difference if he could fight—what they needed were numbers if they were going to hold this position. He needed to run, like they’d promised. He couldn’t stand here waiting to die. But he couldn’t leave Sakina, either!

Shaking off more of its attackers, the gryphon sent another powerful gust at their party. Osmund braced every muscle in his body and held on for dear life, miraculously staying in the saddle even as Banu screamed. Then he heard a terrible sound.

Sakina cried out in pain. She’d been thrown from her mount onto a freshly-twisted arm. Her horse was staggering to its knees, blinded by dust and panicking.

Before he knew it, Osmund had slid down onto the ground and was pulling the woman to her feet, but she was already leaning back over the cliff’s edge, breathing life back into her decoys down in the canyon with the last of her strength. Osmund fought her. “Stop!” he pleaded, the adrenaline sparking up his every nerve. “Please stop!”

“Don’t tell me to stop!” she cried, wild. “How can you ask me to stop? You love him, too!”

The gryphon’s eagle-like scream was shrill and splitting. Osmund let go of Sakina after she hit him with a burst of light strong enough to disorient him for a few precious seconds. She had no intention of being rescued.

Poor terrified Banu was waiting loyally for Osmund as he swung clumsily back in the saddle. A quick assessment of his surroundings told him he was the only one still on horseback. There’s still time to run. If he started off now, the gryphon would take the others, and leave him alone. And Sakina…Sakina would……

Well, his main rival for Cemil’s affection would be dead.

Horrified, Osmund rejected the hideous thought. No. No. This wasn’t over yet!

The gryphon was prowling up to its defenseless quarry down to her last wisps of power when a spray of flashing silver coins went whizzing by its pointed beak. The beast turned to stare down the source of the assault.

Osmund on Banu stood nearby, his arm poised for another throw. In his hand glinted enough Meskato aspers to buy an entire week’s worth of really good meals.

Shiny and distracting.

The gryphon’s gaze was focused. Cautiously it started in on him. For good measure, Osmund threw the coins anyway.

Then, at last, he ran.