Royal Griffon Ch.14

In hindsight, this had been a bad plan.

Truly, Nic could be referring to any number of things with that statement. The taking of the egg, the sneaking around in the vents, everything he’d done since setting foot on that flying brick pretending to be an airship, it all qualified. Do first, regret later, that had been his method today. Not a very techne way of doing things, but since when had Nic ever let that stop him?

At the current moment, the bad plan in question was firmly settled on his decision to shoot out the window. On the plus side, it did spare him from the immediate threat of a knife wielding goblin. On the much more negative, it did so by replacing it with the new threat of being in an open room hovering thousands of feet in the open sky.

All the air in the room rushed out the opening in a single gust, Nic’s ears popping at the sudden pressure change. Ice cold wind moved to take its place, every loose object in the chamber instantly caught in the flurry. The lightest things rode the wind directly, vanishing through the window, while the heavier were freely thrown about like ragdolls. This included the people, Nic scrambling for something to hold onto as the wind began to pull him towards the edge. He caught sight of the egg, rolling wildly in the corner, heavy enough to avoid being lifted but in danger of being smashed against the walls.

Nic dove for it, the wind fighting every movement as he crawled the short distance between them. His arms burned, already tired from the vents and covered in fresh scratches as loose objects pelted him from all sides. Only by sheer grit did he manage to push through, wrapping one arm around the egg and pulling it in close. He wrapped his other arm around what had once been a lamp, its base securely bolted to the ground and giving him purchase as the wind continued to howl all around.

 Nic jumped as something large flew past, opening his eyes just in time to watch Hob disappear out the broken window. He saw Jeffrey lying nearby, holding on for dear life to the knife he had stabbed into the ground. Their eyes met briefly, Jeffery still moving to lunge, only for Gob to appear from nowhere and slam into his boss. Jeffery lost his grip immediately, the two tumbling away to join Hob in the clear blue sky.

Everything else was cut off as heavy metal shudders descended from the ceiling, slamming shut over the entire window. Instantly the wind fell silent, objects clattering to the floor like rainfall. This too quickly settled, leaving only the sound of Nic’s ragged coughing behind. He took a moment just to recover, enjoying the pleasure of his continued existence. There was a proper freakout building inside him to be sure, but he could put that off until later.

Checking on the egg, Nic winced at the sight of even more cracks across its surface. It was getting to the point that there was more damaged shell than intact, not all of which looked to be the result of hatching. More worrying, the thing had fallen as still as the rest of the room, the little one’s previous excitement completely absent now.

He had no time to dwell on what that could mean as the sound of armoured footsteps struck up again. Distant but rapidly growing closer, his little ploy obviously having attracted considerable attention.

Trembling from residual adrenaline, Nic forced himself up and staggered over to the door, relieved to find it hadn’t locked itself. Sprinting through it shoulder first, he emerged into the hallway and nearly ran straight into the last person he wanted to see.

Arthur Worthington had never liked Nic. The feeling had been mutual pretty much from the beginning, though it had taken Nic a little bit to share the animosity. It was that smug smile that he always wore, much as Nic hated to admit it. The way Arthur could with just a single expression convey exactly how much he disdained you for having the audacity to speak to him.

He wore it now in that hallway. It had been tinged, briefly, with surprise and confusion, but the underlying arrogance was already bleeding through. He glanced down at the egg clutched in Nic’s arms, then back up, terrible calculus behind his eyes as he started putting things together. All the while, the clatter of armored boots grew ever louder, closing in on their position. What they saw would look extremely bad, no matter who they were loyal to. A conclusion that Arthur appeared to have arrived at as well, his smile growing wider.

“Don’t,” Nic said, pouring all the threat he could into the word. Arthur was unimpressed, turning his head to shout towards the encroaching footsteps.

“Guards!” he called. “Guards! I got-”

His words were cut off as Nic drove his fist straight into that smug smile. He missed, intending to hit the cheek but catching teeth instead, their edges cutting sharply into Nic’s knuckles. It still did the job, the Worthington heir staggering back and falling straight on his pampered ass. He looked utterly stunned, just like the last time this had happened, but Nic didn’t hang around to enjoy it.

All he could do now was run.

*

Many people reached the scene all at once. Despite her desire to get in there herself, Isabella hung back for a moment, just to make sure that Saku and Kalthus didn’t realize she’d been following them. Waiting around the corner, she listened to the great ruckus of footsteps and voices as many people moved about the same space. Only when she had finished counting to twenty did she compose herself and step forward.

Judai soldiers swarmed everywhere, moving in and out of the room or taking guard positions at the walls. Saku and Kalthus were there of course, though Isabella’s heart sank when she saw Arthur standing nearby. He had his wounded expression on, a very carefully curated look of quiet dignity, only slightly ruined by a swollen upper lip. He was putting on a good show regardless as he spoke to Zulathon’s Seneschal, absolutely loving the attention.

“You’re sure it was him?” the hovering goblin asked.

“Certain,” Arthur replied. “I am unfortunately familiar with Master Greytower’s apprentice.

Isabella swallowed a bark of laughter, now being very much not the time.

“I tried to stop him,” Arthur continued. “But he got the drop on me.”

“You did all you could, I’m sure,” Kalthus said.

“Thank you, my lord,” Arthur beamed, some of his quiet dignity slipping away.

“What is happening here!?”

Lady Nathyl emerged into the hall, flanked on both sides by her personal guards. She had changed since last Isabella had seen her, now sporting battle garb of her own, including metal sheaths over her talons. They clicked sharply as she walked, the points sharp enough to leave visible scuffs in the stone.

“My lady,” Kalthus said with a quick bow. “We have identified the kidnapper.”

“Yes, we have,” Arthur interjected, Isabella forcing her eyes to remain still.

“Who?” Nathyl asked, ignoring the ongoing contest for her attention.

“Nicholas Greytower,” Arthur said. “I caught him red handed leaving this room. And he had the egg with him.”

“Greytower?” Nathyl said. “Orlin’s apprentice?”

“Do not be deceived my lady,” Arthur continued, pointing to his wounds. “He’s far more brutish than he looks.”

While Isabella didn’t disagree with the assessment exactly, this conversation was going in dangerous directions. She considered speaking up about what she knew but dismissed it just as quickly. Even if Nathyl was completely innocent of the plot, what reason did the Judai ruler have to believe Isabella’s claims when her own heir and champion would undoubtedly side with Arthur’s version of events. Better to play the long game and wait for a better opening.

“This isn’t like him, your Ladyship,” Isabella said, affecting her diplomatic tone.

Everyone turned to look, some surprised to see her there, others by what she had said. It was Kalthus who spoke up first.

“You vouch for him?” he demanded.

“Merely observe,” Isabella lied, keeping her tone perfectly poised. “One apprentice techne could hardly do all this alone.”

She glanced at Kalthus, satisfied to find him glowering in barely contained rage. He had no angle to question her logic and so had to concede the point.

“True,” Nathyl said. “And he clearly has allies given what happened to the Queen. Unless he was there during the attack, Saku?”

The champion betrayed nothing but nodded gruffly.

“If he was, I did not see him.”

Nathyl nodded. “Then we need him alive for questioning.” She tilted her head. “All channels new orders, locate and capture Nicholas Greytower. He is wanted alive for questioning and is not to be harmed under any circumstances.”

Well, that was something at least. Now if anyone tried to take a shot at Nic there’d be repercussions for it. There was still the possibility that this little performance was just for the benefit of the non-Judai present, but anything more was pushing her luck. Isabella contented herself with the knowledge that Nic now had a good chance of living long enough to explain himself.

“Saku, Kalthus,” Nathyl said. “Take command of the hunt and find him.”

Or maybe not.

“Yes, my lady,” Saku said.

Nathyl nodded, then turned to point at Arthur. “You, come with me. Zulathon will want to know what you saw.”

“Of course, your ladyship, lead on.”

He moved to follow Nathyl as she turned and walked away. Isabella took her chance to speak up, seeing a chance to get close to Orlin again.

“My lady, may I-”

“And you Miss Hemlock,” Nathyl said, firmly interrupting. “I suggest you return to the party.” She gestured around her with a wing. “We wouldn’t want you to slip out of sight on us, would we?”

Well, that was one of the nicer veiled threats that Isabella had heard in her life. The implications weren’t lost on her either, the young Hemlock apparently not the only person who had snuck some unpermitted magic into the spire. It could of course be a coincidence, but Isabella had long ago learned not to take such things for granted.

She let none of that show, instead nodding at Nathyl as she surreptitiously turned her ward down to its lowest setting. A show of silent acquiescence, just in case.

“Of course, your ladyship.”

“Good.”

Nathyl turned and left, Arthur following along like a puppy, leaving her alone with the Judai retainers. She briefly exchanged a glance with both Saku and Kalthus, nodding to their stony glares with perfect diplomacy.

“I will leave you gentlemen to it,” she said. “Good luck.”

They said nothing as Isabella departed. The second she was out of sight, her ward came back up, stronger than before as she heard more guards moving behind her. Presumably sent to make sure she went back to the main hall as ordered. Before they could catch up, she stopped and pressed herself up against the wall. She watched with satisfaction as they marched straight past, baffled expressions on their faces as they tried to figure out how they’d managed to lose her already.

Once they were gone, she retraced her steps until she found the two Judai griffons again. She shadowed them as they began their hunt, relying on her wards and silent feet to keep her close. This game was drawing to its close, she could feel it.

It was time to see who had the winning move.

*

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