She slammed the mage to the ground, pinning his lean, tan frame under her powerful talons with a vengeful roar.
Except his eyes weren’t grey, they were brown and panicked, tears budding at the corners, his hands struggling to shift her claws.
“Aaargh- Karen, Karen, it’s me- it’s me, please, not again, calm down!” Logan begged.
Logan. She stared, then bounded off, flapping winds as a wrathful scream escaped. The memory had felt so vivid, so pristine, as if Matt had tampered with her mind mere seconds ago. But it had been four years.
Yet he was within reach. She knew his home- and her prey didn’t realise she was a threat. A single proper pounce would bring that mind-ripper down as easily as she had his nephew!
“Urgh,” Logan gasped weakly from the ground, fumbling at his bag desperately, “Kar- urgh, my stitches I think… I think you split them! Please, in my bag, there’s… argh, bandages!”
The griffin winced and turned- how hard had she sprung? The boy was fragile, but the longer she delayed, the more likely the damn mage would suspect something. But, so what if he did? He wasn’t that strong, he was tall and skinny, and a few hours wouldn’t make much difference. Karen paced to Logan’s side, and leaned gently down as he produced a flask and poured a drop of Veil into her beak.
It tasted like a thunderstorm. Her insides buzzed and quivered, her feathers and fur stood on end as if shocked by static, and her muscles tensed and contracted in sudden jolts. Her screech of surprise was only cut off when her air sacs shuddered and began to merge into two, breaking up the cry into hiccuping squawks. Her talons tore the ground, snapping and clicking as a new digit grew in, the scales softened and fingers emerged.
Her great pinions were the worst part. The firing of nerves made them flap even as they shrank into awkward meaty paddles, almost flipping her over through sheer momentum. Her tail similarly lashed and whacked off the ground, vertebrae melting away, and flesh crushed and splintered her beak into two dozen teeth. Within a minute she was left gasping on the ground, spitting as if she’d licked a battery.
But there was no time to waste- Karen pulled a blanket over her shoulders, and ripped open Logan’s bag, searching for bandages.
“Wai- where are they? Got plasters What do I do?!”
The mage was sitting, red faced but calm, “Oh, no. No. False alarm.”
“What?”
“I was wrong- I’m fine, just a little bruised- uh, can you get dressed, Karen? Please?”
He turned away, practically reeking of guilt. Karen cocked her head, suspicions building, then grabbed his collar viciously, “No- can’t be too careful- get it off! I’m not going to be your death!”
“Ah- hey, no, I’m not, bleeding, get of-” Her foot caught him in the side and he tumbled, “Ouch! What kind of first aid is that?!”
“LIAR!” Karen stormed, kicking his arm to knock him down, “You tricked me! You played dead!”
“Argh- maybe a lit- you don’t need to give me real injuries!” He backpedalled, arms raised.
“Release the spell!”
“No- no way, you’re not thinking straight! I don’t know what’s wrong, but you’re too berserk for telepathy- you felt like you were going to kill someone! Ah, uh, cover?”
“Don’t tempt me!” She lifted a foot, then stomped it down, pulling the blanket close over her again, cheeks reddening. No, he felt embarrassed too. “Urgh, how come you’re still in my head?!”
“Didn’t get to end the telepathy properly amidst your… reaction. Don’t worry, it’ll fade soon enough, it’s just empathy- emotion sharing.” He stood, rubbing his side, stinking of guilt, curiosity, confusion, interest and discomfort, “Can you please just get dressed now?”
“Turn around and I will.”
“You’ll kick me.”
“Stupid empathy.” She snarled, grabbed her bag and stalked off to the trees to dress, mind still reeling. The memory was all so much, it felt like she’d been told there weren’t mystics, the thought stabbed into her mind. Was that why she’d acted so much worse with Maddie the second time around? Or had she just been less jaded, more open four years ago?
Physically she was a different person, twice over, but was she so different on the inside? Four years wasn’t that long.
“Alright, you can look!” Karen called as she stamped boots on, stuffing the blanket away, “Happy now?”
“Not especially, but thanks." Logan sighed, “Mostly confused- what was the memory? What happened?”
“You didn’t see? Well, let’s see- I found out about all this before!” She waved her hands, then noticed his eyes light up, “No, not griffins, but magic and mystics. Maddie showed me her true form, revealed it all when we were twelve.”
“Oh, you caught her as a naga?”
“Nope. She showed me. She trusted me with the secret,” Her smile turned bitter, “Only for our memories to get sealed off by your god damn uncle!”
Logan frowned, tilting his head, “What?”
“Quit the pantomime, you heard me! Matt took our memories! He’s an evil mind ripping monster!”
“No, Karen, you’re confused. He’s not a bad guy. He took us all in- me, and all three dragons,” the youth pleaded, ripe with doubt and fear.
“Oh, he got a free magic assistant and three tanks of super valuable blood? Wow, such a hard choice, can’t think of any ulterior motives there!” Karen wiped her brow, and waved her hands forward. “Look. I’m calm now. I know who I saw, clear as day.”
“But- you mistook me for him- and it could’ve been,” Logan ran long fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth, “A… a disguise, a glamour, a shapeshifter- or you don’t know, and your mind plugged the gap with the closest mage, or…”
“The night I hurt you, Matt threw a fear spell at me. It felt like the same as this memory- down to him slinging around a vial of dragon blood. And besides, I barely know Matt, my mind would use you or Diana as a substi...” She trailed off as his eyes welled, glistening with frantic tears. It was weak, fragile, pathetic, and she felt that deep sorrow brush her mind like a rainy graveyard. “Logan! Don’t… don’t go into denial. Trust me!”
The youth swallowed, thin hungry features looking over her, before he croaked, “He’s my family. Just him. He can’t be some… some evil warlock. Please.”
“I don’t want him to be!” She reached up, hands on his shoulders, “Look at me. He could be dangerous.”
His brown eyes stared down, a knot bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. “You’re being honest. But… you’ve got to be mistaken.”
“Well, then, there’s got to be proof, right? One way or the other. You’re the mage, do you guys have wands, spellbooks or shit?”
Logan cocked his head, wiped his eyes, “That’s… not actually a psychopathic suggestion.”
“Yeah? Yeah. You were trying to get evidence about me, we can try to find evidence about him, expose whatever he did to us!” She grabbed up his heavy backpack, “Come on, you got a key?”
“Karen, you’re not just doing this to get inside and ambush him, are you?”
“What? No!”
“Karen, you were ready to tear his guts out five minutes ago.”
“Well I’m calmer now.” she stomped, and felt a small pang of smugness from him, “Shut up!”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking ‘Oh my clever possum play worked, I’m so smart, dur dur dur.’ When you should have talked, not guilt-tripped me.”
“Is that… what my mind sounded like?” He snorted, “Sorry, panicked, yours is a bit… scary, and territorial.”
“Yup.” Karen chuckled, “That’s fair. And sorry for pouncing on you.”
He went silent, as if fishing for another apology, but she ignored him, instead keeping an eye out for the dragons or Matt as they approached the lodge. His SUV was still missing, but even so, she darted across the drive to skirt the log walls of the big cabin. Logan took an irritatingly slow pace, as if nothing was amiss, and unlocked the door before welcoming her within.
The main lounge took up most of the space, a two story chamber somehow messier than it had been when they had just moved in. Books and games were scattered around the plush couches and wide TV, and random clothes hung like webs on the long balcony of the second floor. A collection of taxidermy animals, antlers and horns lurked in one corner.
“Those definitely look evil.” Karen gave a pointed look, “He didn’t even eat them.”
“They’re not even ours, they came with the place! Mr Noonan apparently loved hunting, and the dragons like them.” He pinched his forehead, “Now, don’t break anything, and try to touch as little as possible.”
“Why? We’re investigating.”
“Yeah, and Matt’s got at least five major books on magic, and another ten I can’t tell if they’re red herrings or real formulae,” He plucked up a few sheets of paper from a counter, and passed them, “Here, this is what we’re dealing with- reckon you can tell what kind of magic that is?”
The writing looked like a modern artist had been inspired by calculus, a mess of brackets, letters, numbers and weird gylphs alongside spidery doctor writing she could barely decipher. “Uh, transformation?”
“Lucky guess.” He opened a side door to release a cloud of steam. The room beyond looked a cross between a kitchen and a glassblowers workshop, stacked with strange pumps, vats and chemical equipment, while more formulae lined the walls on messy whiteboards and bookshelves. “I’ll handle here, you be careful.”
“Aha- there’s your proof!” She strode in, winced at the mess of scents and smells, and plucked up a vial housing a deep warm red liquid. “These are what he carries dragon blood in, right?”
“Well, yeah- careful, seriously!” He snatched the vial from her, “That’s just common sense though- you don’t deal dragon blood in gallons or litres.”
“Do you use weird coins too? Hm, there you go then, he had a weird cent with an old lady on it.”
“Probably a penny. Sure, that’d be some kind of evidence, so you leave this valuable stuff alone and let me know if you find one.” He ordered, pulled a thick scrapbook from the shelves and set it down, flicking through the pages in utter concentration. Karen watched for a minute, before it became clear that was as interesting as his research would be, and left the stinking laboratory to explore further.
The lounge was enough of a mess that she avoided it, and found a surprisingly neat kitchen beyond, even furnished with nice offal. She combed a coin and key jar there but only found dimes and nickels, and the rest of the ground floor held a bathroom and utilities but nothing to draw the eye.
Yet would he store secret information in such functional rooms? No, Karen tracked upstairs instead, and tried one door to find a bedroom, orderly but well used. Books on wildlife, myth and legend stocked a shelf, a desk was covered in papers and a smaller chemistry set, and several wooden carvings littered the window sill like the ones Ollie sometimes tried.
She guessed it was Logans, and turned the corner to try the second, larger one that was a complete bomb site. Blankets, torn and singed scattered the floor alongside a hollowed out taxidermy bear. Karen almost gagged at the reptilian stink- why did the dragons sleep indoors? Sure, she did, but she was a person, they were just… children.
The third held what she was looking for. Matt’s room was the smallest, bed taking up most of it accompanied by boxes of books, framed pictures on shelves of people- or things that looked like humans at least. Her eyes found no sign of Logan’s father in them at a quick glance, before they landed on an electric safe, shoved almost under the bed.
“Perfect.”
Logan was onto his second or third tome when she stumbled back, slammed the heavy box down and grinned with triumph.
“Know the combination?”
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“No.” He glanced over the book, “And that’s not proof, plenty of people have safes. Do you think mages would stick real magic instructions in the most obvious place?”
“Not pre-Emergence. But to hide stuff from you?” Karen pointed a finger, “Absolutely. Got any acid?”
“Yeah but not the sort you’re imagining. And, no, I can’t unlock it magically either,” He shook his head and turned a page, as if that disproved the truth about Matt. Not that the safe was any good locked, so she nipped into the kitchen, and relished the look of panic as Logan spotted her chosen tool.
“No- nooo, no, put it back! You said no ambushing!”
“I’m not ambushing,” She bent and set the six inch steel kitchen knife to the keyhole, “I’m lockpicking, see?”
“I can see you really want to stab things.” He winced as she drove the blade in with as much force as she could muster, twisting and rattling the mechanisms frantically, “So much for subtlety.”
Clunk.
“No way.”
“Yes way.” Karen beamed as the door swung open, “See, don’t need magic for everything.”
“No, but it can be helpful,” He quickly pulled the knife out and set it out of her reach, before peering in, “What is it?”
“Folders,” She tugged out the five boring beige binders and flicked through, “Bills, insurance… banking…certificates... clients.”
“Right, contact details for people he’s worked with,” Logan relaxed, “A mage is responsible for the people he provides for- it’s very bad for business if you mess them up.”
“That why you’re so invested in me?” Karen mused, shoved the other four aside, and perched on the desk with the thick heavy folder.
“Partially. And we’re friends?”
“Yeah,” She grunted, taking in the first page. It was in Matt’s hand mainly, spidery elegant writing she could just about read, taking in the page on Edwin Aldrin, age sixty three, and the details of erasure concerning svartalves mistaken for aliens?
Karen’s eyes widened as she flicked forwards. Tanya Berrick, thirty one, erasure of hunting a red dragon near the border.
Lewis Carlisle, fifty two, erasure of the star wars original trilogy from memory.
“Logan- Logan I’m right, look, read these!” She thrust the wad of sheets into his face, “They’re not people he sold stuff to- they’re people whose memories he sealed!”
Jennifer Frank, twelve, erasure of the murder of Carly Frank by Nathan Greenwick.
“No,” She felt Logan’s mind stumble, despair and horror setting in like water from a burst dam as he rushed through the pages.
Andrew Lang, twenty eight, erasure of the discovery of a kobold nest, sponsored by Brian Noonan.
Felicity Mahon, twenty one, erasure of exposure to sphinx veil by Blake Winchester.
Thomas Orwell, thirty seven, erasure of investigations into the occult, sponsored by Olive Drake.
Discoveries, murders, kidnappings, crimes, grief, attacks, the list went on and on, dozens or hundreds of people whose minds had been torn into. Here and there were amounts written, payments high or low for the destruction of their memories. Some names came up again and again, others were scored out in crimson highlighter.
“Karen,” Logan whispered after a long moment, letting the papers slide from his grasp, “You were right.”
“I know- I wish I wasn’t, but… look at this! I thought it was just me, but… he’s been doing this for years and years.” She stood, and noticing his limp state, laid a hand on his shoulder, “Logan, we’ve got to tell Exi or someone, they need to know he’s been stealing people’s memories!”
“Not quite, Miss Thomson,” His low, icy voice echoed through the stinking laboratory as Matt limped through the lounge, pulling blue rubber gloves onto his long spidery hands. His face was cool, grey eyes almost as emotionless as a fish, though a vein throbbed at his temple under the tied back hair. “The memories are repressed, not stolen. It’s a crucial distinction.”
“Uncle Matt,” Logan croaked, eyes watering, “How could y- did you really do all this?!”
“Why are you still asking that!? We have all the evidence, we know he did!” Karen snarled, stepping between them protectively.
“The truth hurts. I’m very impressed that you figured this out, your skill is simply excellent Logan. To break through one of my repressions?” A bitter smile twisted the corner of the mages lips with a dull bark of laughter, “Especially given the absolute mess Miss Thomson’s mind is in? I’m so proud. But this isn't anything for either of you to worry about, so, my apologies, but…”
His hands moved fast to his pockets- one pulled out a coin, the other revealed three crimson vials stuck to his belt.
Karen screamed at the motion- no wonder he had been so fast that night with the fear spell, he was ready to tear away knowledge at a moment’s notice. Her legs moved and she shoved forwards, charging the spindly mage even as he lifted the coin and vial.
Anyone looked spindly after a certain height. As long limbed and thin as Matt was, he was also tall, lean with muscle, and his reach and strength far outmatched a teenage girl.
The penny dropped as his hand lashed out, grabbed her wrists in a fluid motion, and Karen found the lounge spinning as her momentum was turned against her. She was thrown head over heels, tried to gather herself to roll, but a game-board slipped under her footing and she crashed into the wall.
Stars flared in her vision, then her eyes aligned the blurs, saw the crimson blood spiralling around Matt’s arm as the mage hissed.
“Inaequalis.”
Her attempt to stand sent her backwards as the world revolved. Her balance lurched every which way, the room was too small and it felt like she was stuck to the ceiling, stomach heaving, limbs writhing. Karen could only watch as the mage turned back to the laboratory, to Logan.
“Now, sorry, you’ll feel much better in a moment.”
“No,” Logan growled, tears writhing down his cheeks as he stood, grabbing at the bench, “Leave her alone!”
“It was only self defence. You know how feral Miss Thomson can be.” Matt began to bend, hand reaching for the fallen penny.
“Right. Yeah. I get it. You’re the one they wanted.” The teenager’s hands found the kitchen knife, the single vial of blood, and he grimaced, “Not Dad. Mages who covered up crime and victimised people? You’re the one the Revealers wanted, WHY ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?!”
He screamed and moved as Matt bent, smashing the vial off his knee with the first step to produce a flare of crimson blood.
“So you’ll finish the murderer’s dirt work, boy?!” Matt back-pedalled, clapped his hands, “Traho.”
Within an instant, the blood in mid air flowed towards him, Logans’ hand barely touched by the catalyst, robbing him of fuel. Yet his expression only darkened, knife lashing forward as he snarled, “Why the hell not!?”
Then his fingers loosed the knife. Karen watched it tumble in the air, as Matt’s grey eyes tracked it too, going wide, going clear.
And the sharp shards of the broken vial in Logan’s other hand stabbed into his side like fangs. “You got my Dad killed!”
Matt grunted, doubled over and brought his knee into Logan’s gut. The youth was winded, and before he could react, a spidery hand snared his long hair, whirled him around and slammed him into the floor.
“Argh. You know, for such a smart boy, you can be spectacularly dumb. Those madmen hunted down any mage not on their side. I hid and used my skills, while my brother saw pragmatism as evil- just like always!” Matt winced, found the glass in his side, and plucked it free, “Blame his principles, not me.”
Logan groaned from the floor, pointed his blood hand out, and snarled, “Release.”
“Release what? I’m not using magic on you, you’re just too green, Logan. I’ve dealt with danger, I’ve dealt with monsters, and I’ll put down your little tantrum as many times as it takes for you to forget i- oh.”
Karen growled as she felt the rage flow into her. She felt Logan’s fury, even than she’d had earlier, grief and sorrow whipped up into pure hatred as his spell lashed out not at Matt, but instead cut through the spells restraining her.
Her heart pulsed as if lightning shot through her body, muscles burned and sprouted, feathers tore through skin, and talons shredded out of her fingers. In a moment, her boots split as great hind-claws tore through them, her wings split her jumper into rags and her tail ripped her skirt off as it lashed out.
To his credit, the mage was turning as the realisation hit, words on his lips, blood spiralling around his hand, forming new shapes.
Yet he was almost deafened by the murderous hunting screech that filled the lodge as the griffin slammed her talons down, flared her wings and sent tit and tat flying across the lounge. It scared him, plain and simple, enough so that he threw himself to the side just in time to dodge the griffin’s pounce across the chamber.
Instead of tearing into his body, her talons ripped through a sofa, and she flipped it as she landed, wings wide over Logan.
“Don’t worry about me, GET HIM!” The young man stood and shoved against her back, his mind reeking of anger and grief. It was time to hunt. Time to put down this annoying spindly prey who had wronged them so.
With another scream she brought her wings around, slamming forward in a burst of air that made Matt stumble as he tried to stand. Her hindquarters bunched and she leapt, not at the mage, not immediately, but across the entire two story room. She landed on the balcony, already turning, already shifting her weight for the pounce as the prey darted his eyes between them.
The wretched biped knew her mage wasn’t helpless, not completely- he’d grabbed the knife back up, stood ready and eager to use it.
Matt still deemed her the bigger threat of course, which was completely accurate, with her magnificent talons and powerful wings, instruments of wrath for his hunt. She faked him out again, leapt across to the other balcony corner, slammed her wing across the light completely intentionally and not by accident, showering glass down.
“Tulvaro-”
Karen screamed over the incantation again and pounced in that instant, even as something crimson flared towards Logan. Many coloured light, octarine and Red Two, flashed in her eyes, she missed him barely as Matt sidestepped. But her wings were there too.
A giant pinion of muscle slammed into his waist, smashing the vials there as the man stumbled, and the griffin headbutted him in the gut, then span. Her other wing took him in the back, sent him sprawling, splashing blood across the floor, and she pinned her talons on him. One on the arm and back, the other holding his other hand outstretched, her weight far too much for the lanky man to shift and she gave a low menacing growl of triumph.
“Finally,” Logan padded along her flank, reeling, his face a mask of pain streaked with tears, “Hold him still.”
“Logan. Miss Thomson. Calm down,” Matt croaked, fidgeted a little, then closed his eyes. “You’re going to regret this.”
“Maybe. But I’ll remember it,” Logan choked, knelt over him, teeth bared, knife held in trembling hands, “Why can’t I remember that night, Matt? I’m not sure I really blacked out. Why can’t I remember his death?”
Karen blinked, and bent as she noticed the scattered dragon blood on the floor, still too close to the pinned mage for comfort. But within her reach, so she quietly swept her wings and tail over the puddles.
“Yes, Logan, I sealed that night.”
“You took the last memories of my father!” Logan screamed, “You took him!”
“I gave you sleep!” Matt snapped, “I’m your uncle. Did you think I’d let you torture yourself remembering that every night!? No child should see their parent die. Maybe you think I’m some mad warlock, but it would be far more evil if I let that haunt you! Why do you think I do this?! For the jollies!?”
“Because you’re a sick twisted creep!” Logan yelled and the griffin added her screech to the noise, even as she listened.
“No. Maybe traditionalists think it’s wrong. But no, telepathy is a tool like any other kind of magic. And some things need to be forgotten.” Matt swallowed, growing calmer, “Do you really think that Veil, little disguises were sufficient to keep magic secret?”
“No. Maybe once, but not in an age of phones and internet. No, monsters kept us secret- the mystics in the underworld, the government, the mafia and mobs and corporations. And they didn’t keep magic secret out of the goodness of their heart, they did so because it was profitable.” the mage spoke, sounding almost numb, bitter, “If there were witnesses, then do you think these monsters would just pay them off? Leave loose ends?”
“You were their hitman.”
“I saved more lives than your father ever did.” Matt writhed, and Karen tightened her grasp, licking her feathers clean of the weird zingy taste, “I gave them a safe, easy option to remove witnesses- seal their memories, let them go home and never have to worry about the real boogeymen out there. Less mess, less collateral. It worked.”
“Until it didn’t,” Logan hissed.
“No. The monsters had enemies. That’s who the Revealers were fighting, Logan, that underworld, those conspiracies. And… damn surprise of the century, the Revealers managed to pull it off, made more leaks that any plumber could block, more stories than could be hushed.”
“And now… now you’ll go wherever they got sent. Prison or an underworld or area 51 or whatever, we’ve got evidence.”
Matt gave a bark of bitter laughter, “Ooooh, oh no. Too late, boy, I’ve already done that. Changed sides. I had twenty years worth of material, blackmail and crimes on the worst of the worst, I gave them to OAR and the Revealers on a silver platter!”
The young man fell backwards, eyes wide, incredulity mixed with fury, “You betrayed your clients?!”
“I took the chance to help take down murderers, druglords and worse. They don’t believe in loyalty, I owed them nothing.” He sighed. “So, sorry, but you can’t call the authorities. They already know.”
Furious confusion wafted from Logan. “What?”
“Yup. And you know what the real kicker is of this sorry parable? You want to guess what my reward is, for playing smart, for helping the winning side?” His spidery hands slapped the floor, “I get strapped down in a doomed town, looking after kids with endless energy and no common sense! Stuck making veil, day in, day out, in the ass end of nowhere, with a tracked stabbed through my ankle. I can’t go to prison, kids- this is my prison.”
Silence reigned for a moment, before Logan stood, circled and Karen watched as he pulled up Matt’s trouser leg. A blinking device was strapped there, a small cast stuck around his ankle, wired and embedded partially into the flesh.
“See,” Matt wriggled slightly, voice turning cool once more, “As I said. It’s all over. Justice has been done. All you’ve managed to do is scratch me and upset yourselves with this knowledge. But we can take care of that, we can put all this unpleasantness behind u- AAAARRGHHH!”
He screamed as the kitchen knife stabbed in his his leg, and Logan staggered upright, reeling and wild. “NO! No, you can’t just… you can’t call this justice! You can’t just make us forget this!”
“You don’t have any other options. You have a good life here, you have friends. Go ahead and call the authorities, all you’ll get is shuffled off to some foster care or another.”
“No.” Logan lurched, eyes blurred red through tears, shaking as his mind reeled, considering the dripping red knife, “I can think of another option. You pay for what you’ve done. Quick and easy!”
It felt wrong.
She tackled him.
Gently.
Karen simply stepped off the mage, wrapped her wings around the boy and held him tight as he screamed and writhed.
“NO! Get off, you stupid bird! Don’t let him in your head- GET OFF ME!”
The knife pierced her shoulder, and she tightened her grip, engulfing him in dark feathers and hues he couldn’t see. She didn’t like this Logan. He wasn’t a hunter. He wasn’t a torturer.
“Let go! Release!” He tried to find blood in her fur, and she pecked and spat the knife away as his hands moved. “Release! Re… release! Release!”
His mind felt like shattered glass as he realised there was no enchantment. Nothing but the empathy connecting them, where his rage met her determination. Karen held him closed as he went limp, sobbing even after his eyes were too tired to cry, tear ducts empty from grief and anger.
Matt barely moved. He sat and tore some fabric to tie his leg and side, covering the wound there, face pale and calm. “I tried to warn you.”
The griffin glowered and shook her head. No, that wasn’t an answer- she didn’t want to forget, she didn’t want to leave Logan here with THAT! And the fragile boy wouldn’t manage in the woods, he needed somewhere safe away from Matt.
So she headbutted, cajoled and pushed the mage onto her back, between her wings, licked away the funny tasting blood on her talons and tail, and stalked out into the evening and the long road back to Ranelk.