David Drake - Out of the waters

She now understood where it was that she had visited her friend-and why he was there. The Sages had robbed Uktena of his memories and placed him in a vast prison beneath the sea, cut off from the cosmos in which humans lived. By doing so they had preserved not only themselves but all men.

"I would kill you all…," Alphena whispered to her memory of the villagers. She could understand how they thought, even Mota's mother, blaming the hero because he hadn't saved her daughter and thus excusing her own willingness to betray him.

But Uktena was her friend. The fact that she understood the villagers' reasons didn't mean that she was willing to accept what they had done.

Alphena laughed. Not that they knew or would care if they did know. But it made her feel better to have determined the truth to her own satisfaction.

She was rotating slowly as she drifted. She could see the lesser blur, now; the Moon, if the larger blur was the Earth as she assumed.

I'd take my chances with a magician riding a vulture, now, she thought, quirking a smile. She considered waving, but she didn't really believe that would rouse the attention of the Atlantean outpost. Besides, she would feel silly doing it.

Alphena thought she saw something. She squeezed her eyelids closed. She was afraid to hope, but she really thought she had seen something. When she opened her eyes again- "It is!" she shouted. "It's wings! I see wings beating!"

She didn't see the glint of orichalc armor. If this was one of the vultures, would it attack without its rider?

She was seeing the gryphon. The gryphon was coming back for her!

Alphena waved and shouted, "Gryphon, it's me!"

The gryphon had obviously already seen her, so flailing about didn't help; she just spun a little faster. She didn't care. She had to do something!

The great beast banked around her in a lazy circle. His brindled fur had a sleek sheen, but there was a long scratch on his right flank that could have been caused by either a sword or a vulture's claw. The tuft of feathers over his right eye had been clipped off also.

"If you will stop pretending to be a rope dancer, girl," the gryphon said, "I will approach you from the front and you can catch me at the root of my right wing. If you're strong enough-"

He had swung out far enough that his deep voice was fading. He paused and with a quick, strong wing-beat angled back toward her again.

"If you are strong enough, as I say," he resumed, "you can pull yourself onto my back as before. Saving me the necessity of catching you myself."

Chuckling, he flared his foreclaws again. Like his beak, they were those of a giant eagle.

"I'm strong enough," Alphena said. "I'm ready."

The gryphon swept toward her. He looked huge, and however well-intentioned he was, the hooked beak really was capable of biting her head off.

He flared his wings like a hawk landing, bringing his great body to a near halt in space. Alphena, tense in expectation of the lion smashing into her, caught the gryphon's neck and the base of his right wing. He flapped, and she used the renewed momentum to swing herself back into a safe seat on his back again.

Alphena felt relief so profound that it made her dizzy. Laughing hysterically, she threw her torso down on the gryphon's neck and wrapped both arms around him.

"I am glad you find humor in your situation," the gryphon said with a touch of pique.

"I don't, please, I don't," Alphena said through her giggles. "I was afraid I was going to faint and make you do this all over again. You would have, wouldn't you? You wouldn't leave me here?"

The gryphon snorted. "I hope I know my duty better than that," he said. Then, in a tone that seemed to be apologetic, he added, "I'm sorry about the earlier trouble. I saw that pair off, right enough, but by the time I did, the wizard from the Western Isles had gathered you in. I didn't try to take you away, because, ah… I wasn't sure that I could. In fact-"

He paused long enough that Alphena thought he had decided not to finish the thought. Then he said, "In fact I was sure that I couldn't remove you. But it seemed to be working out all right."

"Yes," said Alphena. "It was all right."

My friend. She felt dizzy again. She hugged the gryphon's warm neck and felt the play of muscles under the stiff fur.

"Lady Hedia, isn't in Poseidonis any more," the gryphon said. "I could take you there, but Typhon has destroyed the city and-"

"Wait!" said Alphena. "My mother isn't in Poseidonis? Where is she, then?"

"I believe she has returned to Carce by now…," he said in a clearly guarded tone. "Though it isn't so simple as that, I'm afraid. I'm not avoiding your question, Alphena; I just don't know."

"Well, if you think mother is in Carce, then take me there!" Alphena said. She heard her tone and added, "I'm sorry, gryphon. I'm tired and, and upset. And I spoke without thinking. I would appreciate it if you would take me back to Carce or wherever Lady Hedia is. Ah, if you can?"

"Lady Alphena," the gryphon said. "It is not my place to advise you. I have agreed to serve you where I can, and I can certainly return you to the woman you refer to as your mother, if you wish. She is or shortly will be in the Field of Mars in Carce. But-"

"Go ahead, if you please," Alphena said more sharply than she had intended. She noticed that though the gryphon's wings were beating in a steady rhythm, neither Earth nor any other world was coming into focus they way it had when they flew up from her father's garden.

"There is a place where, if I understand your thinking, you would wish to be if you were aware of facts which it is not my prerogative to tell you," he said. "But if you direct me, I will take you to the Lady Hedia."

"You're as bad as my brother and his teacher, playing at words instead of saying what you mean!" Alphena said; but as she spoke, she knew she was wrong. The gryphon had said what he meant very clearly.

"I apologize again, master," she said, hoping he understood the sincerity with which she was speaking. "I'm tired, as I said, which isn't really an excuse. And I'm afraid my brother was the bright child of the family. I'm bright enough to take your advice, though. If you're still willing, please take me to the place you think I should be."

The gryphon gave his throaty chuckle. "With pleasure, little warrior," he said.

He banked toward one of the lesser blurs to which Alphena hadn't paid attention previously. She saw purple lightning crash.

I wish I had my sword, she thought. Or the copper axe.

But she felt excitement, not fear.

David Drake

Out of the Waters-ARC

The sprite looked in disgust from the flame projector to Corylus. "That?" she said. "It makes fires. Why would I know anything about that?"

She shuddered theatrically. "It's ugly," she said. "You shouldn't use it."

Corylus felt a wash of frustrated anger, then despair. He gripped the starboard railing hard, wondering if his gauntleted hands would leave dimples in the wood.

He had no power over the sprite, no threat to offer that could force her to do what he wanted. More to the point, the worst torture imaginable wouldn't give her knowledge that she didn't possess. He didn't imagine that she was lying when she said she didn't know anything about the apparatus. Why would a tree nymph know how to operate a flame projector?

The ship circled as it rose, banking slightly to the right so that Corylus could look straight down if he wanted to. Wholesale establishments and market gardens lined the road into Carce, interspersed with the occasional tavern for travellers.

People looked up and pointed. A sailor was lazing on his back as mules hauled his wine barge against the current. He stared at Corylus, then shouted, "Baali!" He leaped to his feet and dived overboard.