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Heirling of the Red Sword
Chapter 51: The Mastermind Who Stole the Saddle

Chapter 51: The Mastermind Who Stole the Saddle

“Stay where you are.” Said Kenton’s voice, sounding panicked and rushed. Near, but out of sight.

A normal fae may assume this meant Kenton was alive. However, Daniel knew better than to trust voice alone. Especially after he had dealt with the Fear of Self. He knew there was a Fear on this side. If the Fear of Self had looked like Daniel, it would not be preposterous to assume that the fear on this side had morphed to look like Kenton and take his voice.

But…it could also be that Kenton was in some dangerous situation where someone else viewing it may cause magic to come undone.

He had just escaped from the Dungeon, but he was not yet certain he would not be captured again. His first priority was to finish here as quickly as possible, and then depart as he tried to make a plan.

“Okay.” He said, instead. “What are your other demands?”

“Sit down, and close your eyes.”

“That’s not suspicious at all.”

“Please …I’m…in a bit of a situation.” Said Kenton’s voice. It sounded like it was coming from the underside of the ledge.

“Close my eyes, and leave myself vulnerable?” Daniel asked.

“Elswith, when have I ever asked you to do anything stupid? Aren’t you the one doing risky things?”

Daniel realized he was truly back in the Stable when he heard the dead Harbor name of Elswith spoken again. In the Dungeon, all Names had been void. So when he had heard his old name before it had just been syllables. But now, here in the Stable, he felt the hollow loss again.

“The Harbor name of Elswith is bankrupt.” He said. “The Name is dead and gone. It is meaningless now.”

“Not to me. The name still means something to me. You’re a good kid, and you’re going to be a powerful Lord one day.”

And a small, tiny bright blossom of influence flared to life in the name Elswith.

Daniel found himself sitting down, from the shock. When names went bankrupt, they stayed blacked out and grayed.

He checked again, just to be sure.

There was a single, tiny spark. Small, but unyielding.

Elswith

Kenton continued to speak. “So please, just this once, trust me. Sit down and close your eyes.”

And knowing the risk, a tired and exhausted Daniel adjusted so he was sitting down properly. He would not have made it out of the Stable if not for Kenton. He was too tired, too worn out, and too hopeful of companionship that he sat down. He was listening, sensing, and everything else, so he wasn’t completely defenseless. But without his mainstay of power or his eyes, he would be blind to danger.

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A few minutes ago:

After Kenton threw the key and leaped off the ledge, taking the Fear of Failure with him, after he saw the strange square phantom and the Fear seemed to shatter into light, Kenton realized that while he knew the Stable favored him, he did not know if the Stable had a way of saving him.

So much had happened in the span of a few hours. This morning his biggest worry was a blighted griffin playing havoc and stealing the Emerarris’s Dragon Hide Saddle.

Somehow he had climbed to the very top ledge of the Owl’s Scope Room, found Elswith, confirmed that the Dungeon was not destroyed but still functioning, though it seemed vastly limited to its glory days, confronted his fear of Failure, won, and then got the key to that punk and pulled down the escaping Fear.

And now he was falling to his probable death…

Then there was a whoosh of wings, and the creator of all this mess clasped him in her talons.

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“Cinnamon Girl!” He cheered, as the ground stopped approaching and the griffin fluttered her wings, pushing upward.

“Where.” Something rumbled, like from a deep chest.

Kenton looked around, fearful that the Fear had returned. But it was just him and the crazy griffin.

“Where.” Rumbled again. “Is. My friend?”

Stupor stroke Kenton as the griffin rose in the air, back toward the top ledge.

Elswith’s griffin could talk.

The feminine rumble continued. “I miss my Friend. I get so close to my two-legged Friend but then the Mean Rule keep me away. So I take saddle, and you was supposed to bring my friend to me. You almost do it right. I gonna steal my friend. But mean Stable house stole him! Then I hear him again. But…where is My Friend?”

It was a question with an obvious threat. Of course, Cinnamon Girl could talk, Kenton laughed darkly. It was younger than twenty years old, but sure of course it could talk.

What a ridiculous statement. Many young griffins repeated words or sayings. But asking for Elswith was deeper than just saying ‘food’ again and again. Griffins could become highly intelligent. But young griffins, calculating and formulating advance plans...not impossible, but he'd never seen it in his 137 years here in the Stable.

He knew the griffin was throwing the tests with the griffin trainers, but he had imagined that he had been privy to its true ability.

She had been playing with him too, then.

While his body may not be as-young-as-it-was anymore, his not-as-naïve-anymore experience kicked in. He hadn’t liked to make deals and play games, but he knew how they worked. “Let’s make a deal. My dragon saddle for some time with your friend.” As Kenton said this, he hoped that he was right and Elswith would be out soon.

If for whatever reason Elswith did not return, he was certain the griffin may play a game of drop the retired mapper.

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Daniel sat, listening. Either he was going to trust, or he was not going to. Closing his eyes would leave him vulnerable.

He decided to trust, wondering what had occurred in the few minutes between Kenton throwing the key to him in the Dungeon and his escaping.

The moment the former Heirling of the Red Sword truly closed his eyes, he heard a sound. A whoosh, flapping, the sound of feathers.

And then a gentle landing and a gentle soft wet nose pressed against the side of his head.

“Keep your eyes closed, randon stranger.” Whispered Cinnamon Girl, as clearly as something with a cat/bird mouth could say faespeach words.

“They are closed.” He said, to the random griffin passing by.

The Game was unhappy instantly, but the Law of Fae allowed it. Within reason...

A warm feathery blanket of wings encased him, as soft fur was pushed against his body.

“You was late.” cooed a very familiar voice.

“I was late.” He acknowledged, feeling worry and fear melt away. Cinnamon Girl was not dead. She was not taken away and imprisoned.

“When you no come, mean liars come. They lie, try take me away. Oh no, he falls down. Hehheheheheheh.” The griffin cackled in a very scary tone. “Over the suspicious ruins Diver tells me never go to.”

A spike of anxiety tried to ruin this wonderful moment. Daniel knew the smart thing would be to get as many details as he possibly could.

But he shoed that thought away. The Law of Fae could be postponed, but never ignored. The Game was very clear that no true Ally or Friend should overtly help or hinder the challenger.

And what was Cinnamon Girl if not the best ally and friend, though she did like to steal his bed when they were on campaign.

He had never spent so long separated from her. Not since she was so little she could curl up in his arms. Now she was so big she fully enveloped him with soft feathers and silky fur. She kept nuzzling his head, and her warm breath tickled him.

“I thought you find dead things without me,” purred the random griffin.

“I was doing things that you think are silly. But I promise they are very important.”

“I thought you would take yummy food from strangers and get locked in a cage and then I would have a rescue you. Or they would try dead thing you, OH NO!”

Considering that was exactly what Daniel feared would happen to Cinnamon Girl, he almost chuckled.

The large cat was not done. “I Wanna. I wanna. I wanna steal you and go find dead things.”

That was very sweet.

And the worst thing that could possibly happen.

Time to speak griffin. Others mocked him when he did that, saying he sounded foolish. But speaking words the griffins understood helped them learn new words. Just because there was a nine-syllable word that worked in a sentence did not mean it was the best word, after all. “That nice girl who give you yummy chicken boc boc. She and her friends are in big trouble. So I have to stay.”

“Stay and no see me?” Cried the griffin, horrified.

“Stay and no see you.” He said, mirroring her simple words but putting forth his own reassurance. “But only for a little while.”

A large and strong paw gripped his shoulder, eagle talons poking through his shirt in a warning. The purr changed from one of contentment to one of displeasure. Then the purr stopped entirely as the griffin articulated her next thoughts. “If you save boc boc girl, she give me more boc boc?”

Daniel smiled, despite himself. “You don’t have to sound so eager.”

“You sure I can no steal you, take you?” purred the griffin.

“Not this time. I need to stay where I am.”

The talons deployed but only served to pull Daniel closer into a hug. He could hear his bird kitty’s heartbeat.

“I trust you. Thank you for new friend who read bedtime stories to me. Very nice. Not as good as you. But okay.”

Daniel very much wanted to ask which ‘friend’ took over the bedtime routine. But he knew he was close to crossing the line.

He had fought all day long.

He could enjoy this one single moment.

“I love you, CG.”

“I know you do. Silly two-leg friend.” And Cinnamon Girl ruffled his hair with her soft nose. “You was always smart.”