Leslie Moore - Griffin's Destiny

The prince’s eyes focused inward, as if he were trying to fit pieces of a puzzle together and make sense of it in his mind. “My wife kept a great deal from me, I see,” he murmured. His gaze sharpened with his next words. “I sensed something had changed about Sonoe, but I couldn’t figure out what. At times, when we’re together, a very strange sensation comes over me and once, I accused her of trying to scan my mind without my permission.”

“The spirit’s goal is simple, Highness. It wants to conquer the material world and enslave every living thing,” Ashinji explained. “To accomplish this, it needs an army that can’t be defeated by ordinary means. It also requires the deaths of all living Onjaras. The spirit may have been attempting to weaken you, drain you magically, which is why you felt the way you did.”

“Yes, that could be,” Raidan replied thoughtfully. “But how does the ghost of my dead ancestor plan on raising an army?”

“The magic Jelena carried within her is a key of sorts. The Nameless One has it now, and with it, he can open a gate into another dimension, a place the Kirians call the Void. According to their ancient writings, it’s not a void at all, but rather a terrible place full of creatures so unlike anything in this world, there are no words to describe some of them. These creatures will be bent to his will by the power of the magic contained within the White Griffin.”

“The White Griffin never leaves the hand of the king, and my brother is still in Sendai,” Raidan interrupted. “Unless…”

“Yes, my lord. Sonoe has it, or rather, the Nameless One does,” Ashinji confirmed. “He stole it, and at the same time, he nearly killed my mother and the other Kirians. My lord, he has everything he needs to complete the spell and open the Void.”

High on the ramparts, horns blared-three short blasts followed by one sustained note. Their clarion chorus rolled across the valley and the gathered troops below. The army stood ready to move into position behind the castle.

Raidan ran a hand over his sable hair. “I hope you’re here with a plan to stop this,” he said quietly.

“I’ll need to get close to Sonoe,” Ashinji answered. “When I do…”

“Say no more,” the prince said, raising his hand. “Take a horse and ride to the pass. You’ll find her there, and Sakehera…” the prince called as Ashinji turned to go, “I’m saddened more than you know about Jelena. Her death must count for something. Stop this Nameless One. Stop him! ”

Ashinji nodded. “I will, Highness…I mean your Majesty.”

Open the spirit box and speak his name. That’s all I have to do. Somehow, I don’t think it will be quite that simple.

Determination warred with despair within him as Ashinji bent low over the neck of the galloping horse, hurtling through the predawn darkness toward a showdown he knew he dare not lose, but yet felt uncertain he could win.

Prince Raidan’s admonition still rang in his mind.

Stop this Nameless One. Stop him!

But what if I can’t?

The Kirians believed he could, else they never would have sent him.

What if they’re wrong?

He could feel the horse beginning to tire, but relentlessly, Ashinji drove it forward. He knew he drew close, for he could hear the sounds of battle ahead-steel ringing against steel, shouts of anger, cries of pain. A brilliant flash of blue illuminated the dark mouth of the pass, now squirming with movement that, from this distance, looked like termites swarming from a crack in the earth.

Before he left camp, Ashinji had armed himself with a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a sword, but he doubted if he would get close enough to the fray to need any conventional weapons. He had no armor to protect his body, and no plans to do any non-magical fighting, at least not now.

He felt certain Sonoe and any other mages she had with her would be well back of the line. He planned to dismount at a distance, then move forward on foot, sticking to what cover he found, and trust he could conceal himself magically from the Nameless One. He had been practicing; when first he had approached Tono Castle, he imagined himself enshrouded by the surrounding darkness. He had walked virtually undetected through the bustling camp, and dropped his concealment only when he had located Prince Raidan.

Avoiding detection by a trained mage would be far more difficult than hiding himself from soldiers and camp servants. He had the advantage of distraction on his side, though. Sonoe was preoccupied with harrying the Soldarans. He counted on her remaining so focused on the battle that she would not detect him until it was too late.

With each passing moment, the sky grew lighter. Soon, Ashinji realized, he would lose the cover of darkness. He reined in the flagging horse, and when the animal stumbled to a halt, he vaulted to the ground and darted in among a stand of alders. A small stream gurgled past the roots of the trees. The ground ahead opened out into fallow fields covered in broad-leafed weeds and wild grasses. A dirt path ran along a drainage ditch, leading arrow-straight toward the battle.

The horse meandered out into the field and bent its head to crop the grass. Ashinji, rather than imagining himself part of the darkness, sought to merge with the landscape, to become no more than a ripple kicked up in the grass by the breeze. With that image lodged in his mind, he left the shelter of the trees and set off.

Another flash of blue light alerted him to the mages’ position, back and to the right of the epicenter of the battle. He changed course and left the path, angling across the uneven earth. Crickets chirped in the coarse clumps of grass. A ground-nesting bird, flushed from its hiding place by some unseen predator, skittered off on a low trajectory, its wings making a whirring noise as it flew. The smell of soil, still moist from the spring rains, filled his nostrils with the rich, dark scent of fecundity.

Ashinji glided along like a wisp of morning mist, silent and invisible. From over his left shoulder, the first rays of the new sun stabbed heavenward, bathing the heights with gold. The light raced down and across the valley floor toward him, putting the night’s shadows to flight. Up ahead, he could see the battle.

He spotted the black boar on gold of his father’s banner, marking the place where Lord Sen stood, directing the action. He wondered if Sadaiyo was there as well, but then decided his brother most likely stood in the thick of things, claiming his share of kills. Sadaiyo might be vicious, sadistic, and manipulative, but cowardice had never been one of his faults.

The elves held their own, at least for now. They had the advantage here at the bottleneck of the pass, where Sen could use his smaller force to maximum effectiveness. The Soldarans found themselves blocked in and pinned down just inside the cut, while withering arrow fire from the elven archers raked their position.

Ashinji didn’t know the exact battle plan, but he could guess.

Father is fighting a holding action here, in order to delay the Soldarans for a time. This must be part of some sort of ambush. There’re troops on the ridges, waiting for Father to lure the Soldarans into the trap.

So far, things seemed to be going according to plan. Ashinji had no idea when Lord Sen would give the order to retreat, but he knew he had to get to Sonoe before that happened.

He reached down to touch the bag at his belt that held the spirit box. He found it hard to believe something so small could hold an entity as powerful as the Nameless One.

But it’s not truly nameless, is it? In truth, its…no, his name will be his undoing. All I have to do is speak it.