A squire? Leslyn blinked. That peppy imbecile is drafting me as his SQUIRE?

He considered protesting, but prudence held him back. He wanted to be here, in Nilvar. This was a sure way to be permitted to stay as more than just his brother’s temporary guest.

He squinted at Koben, trying to reconcile his much more reserved idea of what royalty should be with the bubbly blond oaf that the man appeared to be. It started to make sense when he recalled the severe look on Koben’s face when they first met, and the way he sprang into action when Leslyn and Erin were in danger. Instead of a royal uniform and a severe haircut to look tougher, Koben appeared to have gone the opposite way, dressing casually and acting the part of a harmless puppy.

But is he really smart enough to use it as an advantage over people, or is it just his personality?

"Is there something in my beard?" Koben asked, stroking his chin stubble just in case.

Leslyn looked away for a moment, but then changed his mind. "Sir—"

"It's 'Sire' or ‘milord,’ now, dear squire. You’re working for a prince, you know."

"S-Sire." The title felt foreign in his mouth. "I’ve lived in Gerrit all my life, so I’m not too familiar with your city. How long does it take to earn citizenship here?"

"How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Ah. Not too long, then. You can petition at twenty-five, if you've proved useful enough to society. Won't be a problem of course. I’d vouch for you right now, were you old enough."

"And me?” Erin piped up. “I’m only nineteen.”

"Your age doesn’t matter. Tannoran will provide for you until you can marry in. I’ve got a few recommendations, if you’re in a hurry."

Erin made a quiet, strangled noise. Leslyn was beginning to think she deserved whatever discomfort she was feeling, but wondered if she wasn’t just insane and in need of pity. Who was this “Desmond” she kept talking about?

“There’s a crack,” said Arlis.

Everyone seemed a bit nonplussed by his comment, but Gunu went to join him where he still stood in front of Wrath’s cage. “Ah. I see,” he said. “One of the eggs is damaged.”

“What?” Koben frowned and went to look himself. “Sure it’s not hatching?”

“Not yet. Imminently, though.”

“Well, it didn’t happen under my watch, I guarantee. Those eggs were treated like they were my own children.”

Right. The wild cart ride to the Aerie certainly validated that claim.

One of the darker eggs did have a crack, Leslyn saw. It was hard to see at first glance, but it was there, stretching nearly from the tip to the round base. The egg was also noticeably smaller than the others. Perhaps its shell was equally weaker, too.

“A wind-egg,” Tannoran snorted. “It’s for the best, then.”

“Won’t it hatch?” Arlis asked.

“Not likely,” said Gunu. “We’ll be taking it out to the hogs later. It’s a shame and a waste, but eggs with broken shells usually don’t survive.”

“Why?”

“They just don’t.”

The boy was not satisfied with that answer, giving the Aeriemaster his full attention. “But why, Gunu?”

“Some things can’t be explained, Arlis. This is one of them.”

“Actually,” Leslyn said, “it’s because dirt gets in through the crack and poisons the egg. It can slow growth, or kill the chick outright.”

“Can you not use that tone?” Erin interjected. Leslyn shot her a surprised look.

“Keet,” the Aeriemaster corrected. “You seem to know a lot about griffin eggs.”

He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Chicken eggs. I’ve seen dozens hatch. Can’t imagine these big ones are all that different.”

Leslyn grunted as Koben slapped him in the back. “Who knew commoners could have such insight?”

Recovering from the unexpected blow, the younger man studiously straightened his shirt. “Perhaps that’s why they call it ‘common sense,’” he muttered under his breath. He caught a look from Erin that begged him to just stop. He almost laughed—what did she care what he said?

Any amusement he felt dissolved as the prince enthusiastically slapped him again.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The musical purrs coming from Wrath’s cage grew louder, drawing their attention. The blue griffin had ceased her work on the nest and was nosing her eggs, positioning them just so. Small raised cracks had begun to appear on several of them as their inhabitants pushed a bit of shell outward from the inside. Faint chirps could be heard coming from within as the keets breathed fresh air for the first time.

Over minutes, the cracks lengthened, each one a line drawn by an infant beak around the circumference of its shell. One of the sandy-colored eggs rocked, then fell over. The top portion of the shell popped off, and a pathetic mass of wet black fuzz with comically over-sized eyes wriggled out. It flopped much like a fish, flapping its stubby, featherless wings and pedaling its legs until it was lying relatively upright upon its chest. It tired quickly and rested its chin upon another egg as it suddenly slowed and fell asleep in seconds.

“Gosh, it’s ugly,” Erin said.

Leslyn had to agree, though he kept his mouth shut. It looked very similar to a baby chicken or parrot when they came out of the shell. The smell of the wet inside of the egg was also equally unpleasant, in his opinion. A slightly sweet, slightly rotten smell that clung inside the nose and got stronger with each successful arrival. By the time thirteen eggs had hatched over the course of about two hours, the entire room reeked.

The black keet had dried a good deal in that time, along with others who’d been among the first to hatch. They were mostly black or shades of brown and tan, two red, and one a steely gray. The dry ones proved to be cute after all, revealing themselves to be little puffs with big eyes and tiny beaks, each about the size of a medium dog.

Alone against the wall of the nest, the dark brown egg with the crack had still not hatched, or even moved. Leslyn noted that Arlis watched it intently, and kept looking to Wrath. The massive blue mother was still warbling, and would get louder when her attention fell on the egg. Did it mean there was still hope for it?

Kaleit and his father had remained for the entire hatch, and now stood before the bars of Wrath’s cage, observing the keets.

“That black will be the strongest of the clutch,” Tannoran said. “Perhaps the largest as well. Keep your eye on it.”

He’s already got it there, Leslyn thought. He disliked the covetous light in Kaleit’s eyes as he looked upon the first keet that had hatched.

The two men left a few moments later, escorting Erin along with them. She looked over her shoulder at Leslyn with anxious eyes as she went. He felt a pang of guilt, for some reason.

“What do you think of the keets?” Koben asked, coming up beside Leslyn. “Made up your mind about my offer yet?”

Instead of answering, Leslyn posed his own questions. “What is so special about griffins? Why does Kaleit want one so badly?”

“You really aren’t from around here.” The prince’s brow creased with genuine dismay. “Didn’t your brother explain it to you? They’re our lifeblood. Without them, we—”

“Arlis, NO!” The Aeriemaster’s shout rang out at the same time as the squeal of the metal door of Wrath’s cage sliding shut.

The boy was inside the cage, flattened against the bars. Wrath had crossed the space in an instant, flaring her mane and wings over him with a high trill of warning. Leslyn let out a gasp of fear, remembering exactly what it was like to be where the other boy was in that moment, her green eyes locked on his own and her rancid breath blowing on his face.

Gunu and Koben were poised as if to go after him, but both had gone still, clearly afraid of setting the beast off.

Arlis was very pale, his large eyes riveted on Wrath. “Let me help,” he said in a small voice. “That’s all I want to do. I won’t touch any of your other keets, I promise.” He began edging toward the egg.

The screech that rang out made him drop backward onto to the floor, cringing and clenching his eyes shut. Wrath dropped her wings down on either side of him with firm thumps, boxing him in.

Leslyn held his breath.

“I know you’re mad, but that one is going to die if you don’t let me help.” The boy’s voice trembled. “Didn’t you hear Gunu? They’re planning to feed it to the pigs later tonight. Is that what you want?” With that, Arlis determinedly moved again, taking an immense risk in laying a hand on Wrath’s wing and pushing on it.

Sounds of surprise and disbelief came from Koben and Gunu as she let him pass. As she had done to Leslyn while in the cage on Koben’s ship, the griffin followed Arlis’ every step, turning in place to keep her eyes on him. Her sharp beak was inches from his head in case he made one wrong move.

Very slowly, the boy stepped into the nest and knelt in front of the unhatched egg. After giving its shell a comforting stroke, he produced a knife from his pocket and slipped the tip of it into the crack. He chipped away at the shell bit by bit. At last, he pulled away a large portion of it, then reached inside with both hands to scoop out the creature within.

Solemnly, Arlis laid the awful-looking keet before Wrath’s talons. It was fully a third the size of the others, a little lump of damp sallow fluff with a spindly neck and legs that looked incapable of supporting its head and body. It gave a few feeble kicks, blinked its sickly pale blue eyes, and went still.

The boy looked up at Wrath, while the two older men bowed their heads. Leslyn couldn’t tear his eyes off of the keet. If only Arlis had gotten to it sooner…

“As I told you, boy. It wasn’t meant to live.” Gunu’s voice was surprisingly gentle.

“It’s not dead,” Arlis said softly. “Just exhausted. It’s been fighting in there for hours. I’ll go now.” That last was addressed to Wrath, who still watched him keenly.

When he at last exited the cage, whole and hale, Koben snatched the boy to him in a tight hug, while Gunu hastily shut the door and locked it with a key. Leslyn nearly dropped to the floor in relief. Koben held Arlis out and quickly looked him over as if searching for wounds, then hugged him again.

As the prince released the boy, Gunu went to him and fondly patted him on the shoulder. “I’m pleased to see you safe, and another live griffin to show for your bravery, but you know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

“You don’t have to say anything. You’re the Aeriemaster. You can do what you want.”

“And what I want is to maintain order and safety in my Aerie.” His look became stern. “Your conduct was unacceptable. You put yourself, the rest of us, and the keets at risk. She might have crushed her healthy children by accident while she dealt with your fool hide over a runt that may not even survive the night. Effective immediately, you are banned from the Aerie for thirty days.”

“But I’ll miss the assigning of the keets!”

“I know. Thirty days, Arlis, and you’ll never make that mistake again.”

Arlis dropped his eyes to the floor, but not quickly enough to hide the glimmer of tears. “Yes, sir.”

Gunu sighed heavily. “If you could take your leave, Koben—I’ve had enough excitement for one day, and now that the keets are here, I have to plan for tomorrow's event."

“Get some sleep,” the prince told him, wrapping a supportive arm around Arlis’ shoulders. “Leslyn, with me.”

Leslyn took one last look at Wrath and her keets, eyes lingering on the sickly one. It might not even last the night, the Aeriemaster had said. Leslyn spoke an earnest prayer for it under his breath, then followed Koben and Arlis out.

He didn't fail to notice that Wrath avidly watched them go, ears pricked.