Tiny claws skittered off stone. The griffin held still, barely shifting her wing to expose one sharp eye.
Her den was dimmer today. Her sire had insulated the doors edges to keep heat in and daylight out, but there was barely enough light to pick out the shelves and drawers, bowls and cushions scattered throughout. Feathers and scent marked it as hers, which made a little worm-tailed intruder all the more irritating.
The mouse was trying to scramble up the step, into the hall. Any touch would kill the vermin, if she wasn’t curled up so comfy and tight. Maybe if she straightened slowly, gracefully, planted her paws, uncrossed her forele-
The mouse made the leap and raced into the hall, as the griffin gave a furious growl and blundered after it, trailing tangled blankets. She heard its tiny paws on linoleum and padded after it quietly into the kitchen, keen eyes searching for the mouse.
Then she forgot it.
Her Mom sat, back to the door, pouring over a book as she ate porridge. Unaware. Karen had never seen her with griffin eyes. Her black hair was streaked with colours heralding grey, sharp features eroded with barely perceptible wrinkles. Without thinking, the griffin took a silent step, then another, and stalked over to gently headbutt the woman’s leg.
Sylvia Thomson squeaked, lurched backwards, sent porridge flying and slammed back into the wall, eyes panicked. Karen flinched as she was splattered and quickly slumped- how did a griffin look harmless?! She rolled on her back, staring upside down as her wings protested, and gave a deep, gentle rumble.
“What are you doing?” Sylvia gasped, “You scared the life out of me- how are you even so quiet?!”
Karen rolled back onto her stomach and balled her talon to demonstrate- she could walk on the knuckles to silence the clatter of claws.
“Ah. Well, don’t. My heart can’t take it.” Sylvia breathed, eyes narrow. “What? What do you want!”
She wanted her mother’s touch, her embrace. Karen stood gently, taking a careful step forwards.
“No- Sit! Stay!” Mom barked, and winced as the griffin snarled, before shuffling along the wall to the door, muttering, “It’s too fast, I can’t… no, I need time, more than a week, stay downstairs… stay away.”
Karen resisted the urge to pounce after her. The woman didn’t trust her, forcing contact would do no good. It was hardly fair, Karen had never had a choice in the matter either, but the world wasn’t fair.
Dull anger coloured her morning. She ripped apart a food bag, gorged through the mess inside, lost herself in the burning pain of Veil, and showered the dregs of sticky porridge off. Pa was barely back from the shops when she stormed past him, pack full of supplies for a saturday out. Her Mom wanted her to stay away? Then she would.
The grey sky mourned overnight rain, and deep puddles lay across the roads. She stomped through them, fuming at the mud and the long route on foot to Logans- she should have flown. She was meant to fly. It was faster, it was cleaner, it was common sense. But no, her idiot biped neighbours, her parents, noone trusted her, so she couldn’t fly near her own territory. Ridiculous.
Anger turned wary as she drew near the big triangular lodge, and scanned the woods for dragons, trying to ignore the starlings and pigeons. The wyrmlings couldn’t fly, they couldn’t threaten a griffin, but it would be just her luck to be confronted while human. No reptilian snarls escaped the woods though, and she relaxed a little as she rapped twice on the front door of the mage’s lodge.
“Aye?” A child opened the door- a little girl with freckly skin, wild ginger hair tied into a messy tail as she glowered out, steam and chemical scents wafting behind her.
“Hey, is Logan here?” Karen chirped, then raised her eyebrows, “Oh. You’re… the green one, right?”
“The green one?” she repeated, stepped back, and slammed the door in her face.
Karen wrinkled her nose, waited a moment, then knocked again, harder. “You didn’t step away, Nessie, I know you’re there.”
“Blast!” The young dragon shouted as she tugged the door open again, “Yup, an’ who are you?! Why do ya want to see him?!”
“I’m Karen- the girl that jumped off your back? As for why,” She gestured to her features.
“You… oh, he said ya turned into the griffin!” Smoke flared around the child, then she stepped forward and slammed a small fist into Karen’s midriff, “GET LOST!”
She wasn’t that strong. But violence demanded an answer. Karen grabbed both arms easily, and hauled the little girl aloft. “Nope. He invited me, it was his idea, and I already apologised for clawin- hold still, brat.”
“Never!” Nessie squirmed, breathed in, and an orange glow filled her mouth. Karen barely let go in time, throwing herself aside as a plume of flame burst from Nessie’s maw, before the girl fell over coughing and spluttering.
“How the hell can you breathe fire!? You’re Veiled!”
“Magic!” Nessie cheered hoarsely, and stuck out her smoking tongue, “I’m guardin’ him!”
“Well then tell him I’m here! We’re friends, I’m not gonna hurt the big beanpole.”
“Aw, that’s nice,” Another voice came as Logan peered out the door, wearing long rubber gloves, steamed goggles and a heavy apron, “Hey Karen.”
“Hey- call off your guard dog. She’s cuter as a dragon.” She demanded as Nessie hurriedly interposed her tiny form in front of Logan’s legs. “You busy? I thought sooner was better.”
“Uh, yeah, gotta catch up on Veil after last weekend, the wyrmlings are… ‘helping’,” He grimaced, “Can we do around… four pm instead?”
“Four? Urgh I’m going to have to unVeil and Veil again, I should’ve texted… but I can’t with talons,” She whined, “Fine, fine, sure.”
“You don’t need to- oi, go help Matt, I’m fine,” Logan pushed Nessie inside, and dropped his voice, “For one thing, telepathy works better with your true form. Come as the griffin. And if you’re keen to fly, I should be able to end your Veil just now?”
“Really? You can break Diana’s spell?”
“Probably? I can definitely do mine.”
She suppressed a look of amazement. It had been scarce weeks since she’d been stuck as a mermaid, and already he could overcome that mistake? But he didn’t need a bigger ego, so she shrugged.
“I’ll turn down ‘probably’, no offence. I’ll handle my end, you just keep Nessie from picking a fight later.”
“I’ll try.” He gave a curt nod and retreated inside as she strode off, seeking out the Camp or some other dry space to wait out the potion.
* * * * *
Her wings hurt less this time. They carried her up and up, riding thermals and her own strength into the heavens as the clouds began to clear, fleeing her presence as lesser avians did. It was still hard to gauge height, but she made a point of flying higher than the surrounding mountains, certainly higher than her last excursion. It was just a good work out, and good practice before she got to play.
Maybe it was more grandiose to use the word practice. Exercise. Experiment.
But play was the right word. It was just too much fun to be anything else.
She tried to loop and flip, spiralled and soared, screeched and roared and rose and fell and rolled and span! When she felt she needed some purpose, she dove instead, mimicking the motions she’d seen Diana do to fold her wings and drop from the heavens like a glass about to shatter into a thousand pieces on the earth below.
Yet shatter she didn’t. She unfurled her wings in time, curved out smoothly, a very generous wide angle that turned her momentum horizontal, then back up and up and up to try again! It was exhausting, yet she could only imagine Diana’s surprise the next time they flew, when she felt the terrifying presence of a griffin in her blindspot. And so she kept practising, only stopping when she levelled off so tightly that her tail skimmed the water and she wanted to dry it.
After a couple of hours, she reclaimed her bag and wheeled back towards Logan’s, powering high over the trees, and circled the clearing. There was still an hour and a bit to wait, she didn’t fancy having to play with childish dragons. So she looped around again, flurried her wings, and landed gently on the lodge’s roof. It was surprisingly comfy, especially with the afternoon sun emerging, and she stretched her wings out to soak up the heat while she waited.
* * * * *
“Miss Thomson, kindly get off my roof.” A short curt call interrupted her nap. Karen blinked and peered over the roofs crest to meet the eyes of Matt, the lean tall mage wiping rectangular glasses, “Logan, your friend’s up top.”
“What whe- oh.” The teenager, now with heavy boots and a big backpack craned his neck, and paused. She watched for the shift of blood in his skin, the widening of his dark eyes, the proper fear of a monster who had injured him, a monster who couldn’t be trusted.
“Are you stuck?”
Stuck?! Karen snorted, pecked up her bag, and hopped the twenty foot drop in an immaculate bond.
“Ah, good. Huh, smaller than I thought- I guess you’re an adolescent after all.” He pondered, offering a hand, “Want me to carry that?”
“Not too close, Logan, she’ll still be flighty,” Matt warned, opening his SUV with a casual glance. As if it was all totally normal. “No veilling, no fighting, no stabbing my nephew, alright?”
Karen rolled her eyes and dumped her bag into Logan’s grip, turned on tail and strode off. The teen followed, calling an easy lie that he was just going to watch her fly, though he soon ran out of breath and insisted she slow down. In return, she bounded further ahead, leaving him in the dust.
It would be easy to keep going. Clearly noone else knew they were planning to try telepathy. Planning to try and track the source of her condition, her mind. Planning to stick his nose in her business, her territory. But Maddie had insisted she give him a chance. And for all the lies and tricks, there was noone she trusted more. So the griffin settled in what little sunlight she could find, and waited for the mage to wearily arrive.
“That looks real comfy,” He gasped, collapsing to sit amidst leaves and grass. “You feel alright?”
Words failed. She gestured up, flared her wings and gave a proud trill. She’d flown well. Logan cracked a grin, wiped his brow, and pulled his hair back into a bun with the old hairband she’d given him.
“Yeah, I bet you rock in the sky. Just lemme…” He scooched a little closer, leaving bags behind, until he was within a metre of her front. “Full disclosure, this is going to feel weird. I need physical contact to forge the mental connection- can be wing, or tail, or head or- head? Okay. Just, relax, try to match my breathing. I’ll field questions once we begin.”
She looked at him. He was liable to topple over, he was so weak. Karen stood, circled and lay behind him, letting him rest against her right wing and flank, a rough spindly hand on her brow.
“Alright, breathe in, hold it, nice and slow, and out,” Logan instructed, “In, and out. Vermu, lughen, Omara. Vermua, lughen, omara.”
He kept breathing, cycling air in and out, nice and steady and in sync with the griffoness. Matching the flow.
His father had always said there was a flow to everything.
Water flowed from rain to streams, rivers to seas, oceans to the sky and back down again.
Air flowed through the movements of the atmosphere, influenced by heat and geography, the pull of gravity, passing through countless beings. Through mages. Through griffonesses.
Griffins.
Her mind felt defiant. Cautiously confident. And as he felt the presence breaching his thoughts, so too did she examine the surface of his own mind, a laser focus intent as the contact grew, a bridge flowing from him to her, and her to him.
Magic flowed too. It multiplied and divided, amplified and trailed, but it flowed with his words and his will and his focus, anchoring the telepathic connection between mage and griffo- griffin.
Her mind relaxed a little as he accepted her spelling, shifting beyond the surface thoughts as he welcomed the focus into his mind. Into unfamiliar territory, in the truest sense of the word.
It reminded Karen of spiderwebs on a rainy day. Connections and tethers, weaving and breaching, stretching through Logan’s mind, all cast under a sorrowful gloom pouring from above. Some flared brighter, thoughts racing through his intellect as he maintained the spell, drawing on his knowledge.
Everything flowed. Everything caused something. Everything was caused by something. Consequence ruled the world.
She sent her attention towards the thoughts most active, murmuring strands of intelligence, interspersed with flashes of his experience. Those were less boring, more comprehensible, and Karen’s narrow focus drew the memories out like flesh from a kill.
- - - - -
Sitting, hand in hand with Uncle Matt. Feeling the cold, geometric, organised mind focus upon his own.
- - - - -
Holding down the red dragon Hex, pulling the knowledge of draconic free as the wyrmling snarled and hissed, his mind ruthless, determined and flexible.
- - - - -
Immersed in the warm, confident wise mind of his Father, Jerak, a big broad man with a strong hooked nose, sun bronzed skin and crinkled eyes, not even touching.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Dad? Why are we stopping?”
“That’s good enough for today. Telepathy’s not a skill you should need to employ too often,” His father instructed, a slight edge in his voice, “It is for communication and examination only, understand?”
“But it could be used for more, right? That’s incredible access to help magic affect an individual, it could completely break an ego’s defen-”
“It could be. But to do so would be evil. Any other crime- enslavement, torture, wounding, attack, illness or imprisonment- leaves the mind as the last refuge of an individual. It’s their heart. But telepathy, mental magic? It completely violates them, only those with an evil heart use it. So we just observe, and communicate, we don’t interfere. Understand?”
—-----------------
Karen recoiled, felt the rainy gloom intensify as her curiosity and concern surged. She swallowed, concentrated, and jabbed a lance of thought towards him,
Logan’s mind was reeling- burning anger, acidic regret, cold sorrow, heavy grief- but he kept breathing. In. And out.
She didn’t want to apologise. She’d done nothing wrong. But she unfurled her wings and stretched them over him, soft and warm, and expressed quiet, wordless sympathy.
It truly was gentle. His awareness felt like morning mist- weak perhaps, but wide spread and multifaceted, curiously sensing the new mental terrain he explored.
She smiled as he imagined it as a sun lit jungle. Bright and bold, chaotic and proud. Clear arrogant streaks illuminated her skill, her love of her father, brother and Maddie, her prides and passions and joys. Behind them deep shadows were cast, hastily piled with all she ignored, fears and doubts an-
She shrugged his hand free and stood, though the curious intrusive fog continued to sift through her grey matter, and she arched her back, suddenly wishing for a shower. A chance to feel clean. Moving did help, a little, but the contact was still there, closer than close and padding around the clearing did nothing to change that. She irritably circled back on the spot she’d started at, stomping grass flat before curling up, tail to beak, wing over legs.
She did. Bounding really. Forelegs down, backlegs gather, bring them down, push off again. Not left-right left-right, but front-back front-back. Easy.
More complicated, though the sensation was fresh in her mind. She showed him her afternoon, diving and swooping, angling and rising, her mastery of the thermals.
She had less to work with there. Just a half dreamt memory. But the basics were simple. It came down to the first second. To swoop down in the prey’s blindspot, break their back or neck, or at least drive her talons deep enough that they couldn’t get free, could finish them off and enjoy the warm wet fresh meat in her beak.
He didn’t consciously respond, she felt him pulling on the shadowy strands of her mind, those of instinct, tracing them, as flashes of memory came.
- - - - -
Flying as a falcon.
She’d flown well. So well. She’d ruled the skies.
Her arrogance. Her pride.
She’d landed weirdly.
She’d gotten onto all fours. Instinctively?
- - - - -
The day they met.
Him moving behind her, too close, into the blindspot.
She’d almost shoved him down the stairs in turn.
She’d stamped on Maddie’s tail.
She’d clambered the climbing frame to feel safe. The highest point.
- - - - -
The day before her change. Eating lots? And feeling so hollow? Why?
- - - - -
The five winged monstrosity hovering in the trees. The blood pigeon on her fingers. In her mouth. The voice in her mind, tearing her down, asserting her insignificance.
- - - - -
He lingered on that, the Bad Egg, and like a kettle boiling, exasperated heat filled the misty presence.
She’d felt worthless, but she didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to sit, didn’t want to think about this. She pushed back, sweeping the feelings away, into the nooks and crannies of her soul, away from his invasive scrutiny.
Cleopatra.
How did her mind have a thought of nothing? Was that what she thought when she wasn’t thinking?
And she stabbed her awareness into the seal’s wound. Into that sound, the echo of babbling water.
Sunlight.
Stones.
A penny dropped.
And her stomach heaved worse than she’d dove from the sky.
- - - - -
Summer was hot under the trees. Karen wiped her brow with her left hand, balancing as she walked along a dry log.
“Are we nearly there yet?” She teased again, eyes on the platinum hair bobbing along in front of her.
“Aaaaaal-moooooost,” Maddie was taller than her, younger but she could pass for maybe thirteen or fourteen if she stood straight, and she used that to add mystique as she pushed through a bush. “Almost… maybe past the next set.”
“You do know where we’re going, right?” Karen hopped off the log, bent, and resisted the chance to show off with a cartwheel. Her right arm was still healing, if she was reckless then it’d get stuck inside a gross cast for another fortnight. “I heard stories that there was a mad axe murderer in the woods around here.”
“No you didn’t.”
“I could have. Or big foot. It feels like anything could be hiding out here.” She bumped into Maddie’s back as the girl stopped, “Ow, move your butt!”
“We’re here.” Maddie gave a mischievous smile, and stepped aside to reveal a stream bubbling through the forest. It tumbled down rocks in a small waterfall that hit a shallow pool, with an old rope hanging over it from a tree branch. From there it burbled and wound, ankle depth once more as it wound downhill towards the lake. “Just, careful- you’re wearing your swimsuit, right?”
“Yeah, it’s boiling!” she patted a strap under her T-shirt, “Is it deep enough to dive into?”
“Why is that your first instinct? It’s deep enough to swim, but let’s not break any more arms, okay?” Maddie took a breath, glanced at her watch, then took a running leap, grabbed the rope and swung across. She landed on the other side with a nod. “I need to get changed, sooooooo don’t look for a sec!”
“You didn’t think to put it on underneath? Fine, I’ll keep watch!” Karen sat, and kicked off her boots and socks as Maddie vanished. She wasn’t sure what to keep watch for, there were little birds and squirrels around, flitting through branches with enviable speed and grace. But no people. So she stuck her shorts and top in the bag too and waited.
A deep growl came from across the stream. Karen startled. It sounded bestial? No. Painful?
“Maddie?” Karen called, the only sound beyond the streams babbling, “You alright?!”
Another growl of pain, a word she couldn’t make out. The girl gathered her legs, leapt forwards and grabbed the rope to swing across. Except her right arm surged with pain, her left was too weak, and she splashed into the pool, ice cold water replacing the warmth of summer and sending hair around her head like a halo. But with a kick, and another kick she breached the surface, stood and gasped.
“Maddie? Maddie!?”
“I’m fine!” A nervous quaver was in her friend's voice, and she saw the platinum hair peer over a bush, “Hey Karen?”
“What? Forget the bottom?”
“No, I’m all good. Don’t panic, but I’ve got something weird I’ve got to show you. Trust me!” Maddie called louder.
“Sure.” Karen smiled, features softening fondly, “You’re my bestie!”
Scales breached the undergrowth. Bronze brown scales, slithering with perfect silent grace, long frilled fins at the end of the ridiculously gigantic snake tail, bigger than she was. And at the other end, upright as if she was being eaten, was the slender blonde form of Maddie, scales scattered amidst her freckles, eyes a reptilian gold, gills exposed under her cute swim top.
Karen frowned and cocked her head. She pinched her cheek, but she didn’t wake up.
“Huh.”
“Huh. Is that all you have to say?” Maddie’s cheeks reddened, hands on her hips.
“Are you okay? Is a snake eating you?”
“Nooo, I’m fine.” A nervous smile touched Maddie’s lips, “It’s all me. Watch!”
Then the snake bit coiled like a spring, extended, and she dove into the pool, spiralling around it in a glitter of copper scales and platinum hair.
“Oh my g- you’re a mermaid!?” It was more eel than fish, but still more than she’d ever dreamed.
“A naga, but yeeeeah, mermaid works!” Maddie breached the surface, whipping her cloud of silver hair around, tail gently flowing like a ribbon dancer.
“Can I touch?” She stepped carefully, bare feet on the pebbly bed.
“Sure, it’s all me!” She moved her arms to counter balance and tail flowed down the current, wide fan as big as a jotter at the end. Karen poked it, recoiled at the slimy, thin texture, then ran her fingers down the small scales there, warm and smooth like rubber.
“This can’t be real- am I dreaming?” Karen splashed her face, then hopped over the tail, and over it, the stones tickling her soles and sunlight dappling off the water. “Mermaids aren’t real!
“Sooooo?” Maddie purred with a shape toothed smile, “Here’s a riddle. Do you know why you’re like Cleopatra?”
“My grace?” Karen guessed, dodging a splash from her long tail.
“Nooope, because you’re the queen of de nial!” She broke into giggles.
“Okay, it’s really you!” Karen jumped and landed in the deeper pool, taking a hand for support, “How?! Are you a mutant?”
“Nope, I was born this way. This is a mega-secret, so don’t tell anyone. But magic’s real. And so’s bigfoot and tons of stuff- we use magic to look human, live human, but we’re really mermaids and things!” Maddie chattered fast, scaly hands holding Karen’s tight.
“So- so all the time I’ve known you, you were a secret mermaid? Why tell me now?”
Maddie’s teeth were sharper as she grinned, “You’re my bestie!”
Her eyes felt wet and she ducked under the water, looped around, then popped back up, “It’s awesome! You’ve got gills and… thankyou! Can you even swim in the lake?”
“If I wanted spotted. This is private. And it’s got a rope swing! Wanna try it?”
She did, especially since the mermaid clearly couldn’t, and clambered out to jump again, splashing with Maddie for hours, her secret known and safe.
- - - - -
The Carpenter’s style choices made a lot more sense now. The wide low house, the weirdly broad stairs, the overly big shower booths- it was all made for mermaids! And one merman she tried not to imagine, as Hugh welcomed her inside.
“There you are- how’s the arm?”
“Getting better!” She threw a playful jab at him, and the round jolly man chuckled, making boxing gestures of his own.
“Gentle now, you’re getting big!” He cheered, “And learned your lesson?”
“Yup- need to work on my long jump more, aim better!”
Hugh snorted, “Isn’t the lesson not to jump off roofs?”
“There might be a fire or something though! Pa says it’s always time to learn new skills. And Maddie taught me new stuff. About you guys.” She winked.
“Very subtle, but we know. You can talk freely here. In fact, we actually have a friend of mine here for dinner who knows even more than I do!” He steered her into the lounge, with their big seats and abundance of beanbags, “A real life wizard!”
“Mage, Mr Carpenter,” The tall lanky man corrected, skin bronzed by the sunset through the blinds, sitting beside Maddie. His black hair was tamed back, and neat rectangular glasses framed grey eyes that glanced over her. “Good evening Miss- nice to meet you, call me Matt.”
“Karen Thomson- but Karen’s fine,” she nodded, but lunged for the beanbag beside Maddie, almost bouncing the blonde girl into the air, “Heya! What’s up? Is he real?”
Her friend’s blue eyes looked a little red and puffy, and she nodded, looking to the floor, “Yeah, y-yeah, he can do magic, he’s a real wizard.”
“Mage. If you’d like, I can show you a magic trick too, Miss Thomson?” Tohaken knelt down in front of her, folded long legs, and pulled a crimson vial from her belt.
“Really? Is that okay?” Karen wondered. the room was suddenly silent. Hugh and his wife were in a corner, watching with furrowed brows, and she felt Maddie shake beside her. “Maddie?”
“Y-yeaaah. It’s really cool. He showed me it, it’s g-great,” The blonde girl patted her hand, shaking, and stood, “I’m just… uh… using the… bathroom.”
“Alright? Can we go up to your room afterwards?”
“Yeah, suuuure!” Maddie said, and ran away.
“Alright, Miss Thomson.” A pop sound came as Tohaken’s thumb flicked the cork off the tiny test tube in his hand, and he held up a british coin, brown and copper. “I call this one, ‘a penny for your thoughts’- just follow the coin for a moment...”
“And guess what hand you hide it in?” She teased, only for crimson liquid to suddenly flow into the air from the vial, forming a circle that span so fast the single coin suddenly looked like six swirling through the air, “Wooow!”
“It’s quite beautiful. Keep following the coin, Miss Thomson,” Matt gave a gentle smile, nodded.
Then his hand pierced her mind.