Athera walked down the cobbled street, keeping a loose grip on Tallis’s halter. She balked slightly as a group of kids ran past, chasing after a wooden hoop they pushed along.
“Easy girl,” Athera murmured, but the griffin had already calmed, her tawny feathers smoothing back out, but she still kept a wary eye on the boys. She had been trying to take Tallis to town more often to get her used to the idea of people who weren’t Athera herself, but the griffin was fully in the nesting stage. If it wasn’t to go on a quick flight, she didn’t want to leave the cottage.
Athera wasn’t much better.
“Athera,” a voice called out. Tallis’s ears perked up, flicking in the direction of a lean young man wearing a thick leather apron and a tophat that was old enough to make cityfolk blush. In the countryside however, Tarquin regarded it as the height of fashion.
“Tallis really is coming along, isn’t she?” Tarquin asked, giving the griffin an affectionate pat.
“Yeah, she should be kitting in a couple of weeks,” Athera said, smiling as Tallis began nuzzling at Tarquin’s apron. The blacksmith laughed and pulled out one of the pieces of jerky he always had on him.
“She’d better be. She’s eating enough for it.” He stepped back, leaving an overeager Tallis to start straining at her lead before a quick tug from Athera reminded her to cut it out. Thankfully she actually followed lead commands. It was something Athera was still working on with Cedar.
“I still get the first choice of the kittens, right?” Tarquin asked. “Such a gorgeous creature...I’d love to have someone around the shop again.”
“A griffin, Tarquin?” Athera teased. “Are you sure a dragon wouldn’t be more up to your speed? You are a blacksmith after all.”
He gave her a withering look. “Having a scaly beast overheating the forges, dislodging the steam pipes, and being a nuisance?.” At the mention of the pipes, her hand moved traitorously to the blotchy scars that ran down her face and neck. Tarquin’s expression fell and she quickly jumped in before he could ask if she was ok.
“I’ll let you look at the litter when they’re born,” Athera promised. “Now, how’s that saddle coming for Cedar?”
He nodded and beckoned her further into the shop where a gorgeous leather saddle hung. It wasn’t the lightweight utility saddle she used for Tallis, but heavier, made of darker leather with silver embroidery along the edges.
“You really want a kit, don’t you?” Athera asked, running her hand along the edge of the saddle.
Tarquin just grinned. “It’ll be ready for you in another week, I just need to get the chest harness together.”
Athera nodded gratefully. Cedar was wonderful, but he also had a bit of a habit of sliding his saddles off. The leather strap anchoring the saddle in two directions would be the only hope of riding him when excited.
“Thank you,” she told Tarquin. He slipped Tallis another bit of jerky and they started off into the rest of the town, heading toward the market where vendors tended little stalls with baskets filled with fresh fruits and vegetables.
Athera loaded some potatoes and apples into Tallis’s saddle bag; she preferred to stick to the vendors that knew her, and not the new ones who couldn’t keep their eyes from wandering over her blotchy pink and purple scars. 8 years. 8 years since she had lost everything.
Thoughts of Athera's life back in the city clouded her mind as she finished picking up the week’s supplies, her parents' friends coming over for dinner, the merchant children that would winter in the city, even the fights she and her younger brother had gotten into. Her stomach clenched at the thought of Nestor. He had only been 8 when the explosion happened. That little life had been snuffed out moments after one of the family’s steam pipes had exploded.
Tallis gave a soft rumble from behind Athera.
“It’s ok girl,” Athera said while blinking back tears. “I’m ok.” She reached up to pat the griffin’s beak, taking solace in her presence. Animals were nice that way. They didn’t ask for details.
They had barely made it a few more paces when an unearthly shriek rang out as Tallis reared onto her hindpaws. She jerked at her lead, eyes wild and hackles raised.
“Whoa, easy girl!” Athera cried out as the griffin lifted her off the ground. “Easy, it’s ok, you’re ok.”
The griffin chirped before settling into a nervous growl, picking at the cobbled stone with her hooked talons. What was with her? She preferred flying, but normally didn’t have a problem walking.
“Good girl.” Athera ruffled her tawny feathers, causing her to puff up a bit in annoyance. “Oh, you’re alright.,” she chided the griffin as she rubbed behind her feathered ears.
Tallis growled, her gaze focused on the skies.
“Tallis?” Athera asked softly. A cry of alarm rang out over the square and she whirled to see an airship, deep mahogany wood with a scarlet balloon and tail fins. Emblazoned boldly on the side of the ship was the outline of a dragon curled around a city with its mouth open and ready to consume it.
Athera swallowed, her mind not fully processing the danger. She knew what that symbol meant, everyone did, but she couldn't reconcile what a gang of pirates would be doing in such a small town.
Something gripped her harness from behind and pulled her back, causing her to stumble slightly. Tallis released her in one of the back allies, leaving Athera to stare up at the griffin’s flattened ears and ruffled feathers.
Then the first cries of pain rang out along with the clang of metal on metal. Following the cries, the acrid scent of burning oil filled the air and Athera wrinkled her nose against it.
She turned back to Tallis, quickly swiping her palm across her closed fist in the signal for her to hide. Reluctantly, the griffin obeyed, disappearing into the edge of the forest overgrowth that surrounded the town.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
Ok, Athera, she thought, taking out the copper rod at her belt. No turning back now. At the push of the button in the handle, the sulfur-magnesium mixture at its tip burst into flame and she finally left the safety of the alley.
The market stalls were already overturned, the colorful fabric ripped while the merchants that usually attended them were locked into combat with various men and women. One man was wrestling a sack of potatoes away from the kindly woman Athera often bought produce from. The merchant glared at the pirate, suddenly letting go and sending him sprawling back where she kicked him in the groin. She was doing fine on her own.
Athera turned, running towards the ship and dodging past an elderly couple who had cornered one of the woman pirates. They were also doing fine.
There. One of the children, head held high and eyes defiant, but shaking under the gaze of the looming pirate before him. The pirate wore a red and blue mask in the shape of a cat, but it couldn’t disguise his glittering eyes fixated on the boy. Athera shouted, a garbled cry meant to draw attention rather than convey any meaning and charged at the pair.
The pirate looked up at her, but before he could react, she had swiped the rod across his face, causing him to draw back, hand held over his fresh burns.
He glared at her through one eye, his gaze lingering on the left side of her face. Athera lunged at him again, this time waving her rod in threatening arcs, hoping to drive him off. Beside her, the child threw a stone at the pirate. He missed by a couple of feet, but the intent was there.
The man’s lip curled and he lowered his hand, revealing angry red swelling across his face. In a fluid motion, he drew his sword and stabbed it at Athera.
Athera glared back, pushing the kid beside her away while leaping back. The kid scampered off, thankfully going to safety instead of staying to fight.
The pirate snarled and took another step toward Athera, trying to force her back with a sweeping stroke from his sword. She caught it against her rod, trying to match his strength, but that was a losing battle. Instead, she ducked away, before having to block yet another slash from the sword.
Athera was blocking so much, it was hard to get an opening to jab in. She needed a little more firepower. Quickly, she tapped the button on the hilt three times and the rainbow gleam of oil began to coat the rod. In the next heartbeat, brilliant flames spread across the length, warming her grip under the seasoned leather hilt.
The pirate stared at it, clearly surprised and unsure how to counter this development. Athera didn’t give him too much time to think it over and swung it at him. He countered with his sword and she narrowed her eyes, pushing with all her strength against him. It was almost like wrestling Cedar, except Cedar wasn’t vicious and bent on killing her.
The pirate’s eyes widened as his blade began to heat. Athera glanced down at the hilt. Completely metal, no leather wrapping like she had. After a few seconds longer, he cursed her and dropped the blade, letting it fall to stones with a clang.
Athera kicked it behind her as he backed away, unmasked hate filling his gaze. A pirate wearing a copper bunny mask ran between them and he followed her after shooting Athera one last look.
An angry shout rang out and Athera looked down to see Tarquin lunging at a young man with dark brown hair. She ran to help, letting the side flames of her rod go out with another three taps, no point in wasting the oil.
The young man stumbled back, clutching at his mask. He, like the rest of the pirates, had one in the shape of an animal, his a grinning fox. He froze when his gaze locked on Athera, entranced. Then an angry sound halfway between a yowl and a screech rang out and he had to leap away to narrowly avoid being on the wrong end of Tallis’s swiping talons.
“Tallis?” Athera asked sharply, not daring to take her eyes off the pirate.
The griffin growled in response, and Athera could imagine her crouched beside her, hackles raised and talons glinting menacingly. What was she doing back here? She never disobeyed commands. They’d work on them later, after she had her litter. A small surge of guilt went through Athera as she thought of the griffin’s swollen belly. She should not be here.
“Good to see you, Athera,” Tarquin said from her other side.
The pirate glanced between them, his gaze hardening. He was well muscled, the body of someone who was no stranger to this kind of work, but Athera could see no scars. He hadn’t seen too much fighting. That or he was very good at it.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. It didn’t make sense, the village was too small and too remote to sustain their band.
He didn’t respond, but stared at her, those deep brown eyes peering out from behind the fox’s face.
“Nestor, look out!”
A rush of wind from behind her and something knocked her onto the stones, sending Athera’s rod clattering away. The pirate from before was on top of her, having retrieved the sword with the edge to her throat.
“Not so high and mighty now, are ya?” he laughed.
Tarquin gave a cry of anger and tackled the pirate, shoving him off of her and giving her the chance to roll away.
A panicked yowl touched with an eagle’s cry sounded and Athera whipped around. A pair of pirates had Tallis by her halter, dragging her towards the ship. Her talons scratched futilely against the stone, unable to dig in. She snapped at one of them and the other jerked her halter the other direction, tightening the loop around her beak and wrenching her away from the other.
“NO!” Athera screamed. In that moment, all thoughts of the village faded. She ran for her griffin, not caring that she had no weapon. She lunged at one of the men, managing to get a strike across his back. He stumbled, but didn’t fall. Instead, he sunk his fist into her stomach with enough force to cause her body to freeze up and instinctively gasp for air. Athera dropped onto the hard stone, still gasping as sharp pain exploded in her side. Another blow hit across the back of her head and a piercing shriek sounded from her griffin.
From her position on the ground, she locked eyes with the young pirate with the dark brown hair. His mask had been knocked free, revealing that face. How could he have that face? Younger for sure, but the same features, the same wide nose and the same tousled brown hair. He stared at her, eyes wide. Athera tried to rise and another blow exploded across the back of her head. Tallis roared, but that was cut off suddenly with a whimper that twisted Athera heart. She couldn’t save her.
As Athera’s vision cleared, the young man came back into focus. He was still staring at her, hadn’t moved an inch. Those eyes, tiny golden flecks reflected in that deep brown. How could they be so familiar and so strange at the same time?
“Men, clear out!” a voice bellowed.
He shot Athera one last startled look before following the other pirates back to the airship. Athera rolled over, ignoring the pain in her side. The ship was already moving, the ramp retracting back into the hull. A rope ladder was dropped, leaving the last couple of pirates to leap and grab it, disappearing as quickly as they had arrived.
“Athera!” Something dropped down beside her. “Athera, are you alright?” Arms wrapped around her as she struggled to sit up, helping her past the last couple of inches.
“They took Tallis,” Athera choked out, unable to disguise the whimpers echoing out of her throat.
“I know,” Tarquin’s expression hardened and he drew her against him. “We’ll get her back,” he promised. “We’ll destroy the--”
He stopped as she started to shake her head, pushing away from the blacksmith.
“That boy had my father’s face…” she trailed off as the weight of what she had seen settled over her shoulders like the black soot from the airship over the town.
“That’s impossible,” Tarquin said immediately.
“No, it was exactly the same. Just younger.”
“Maybe you imagined it,” Tarquin’s voice grew gentle. He didn’t understand. How could he?
Athera swallowed, trying to calculate everything in her head. 8 years. How old would he be? No. He had died too, hadn’t he? They had told her nothing could’ve survived that blast, that it had been a miracle that she had gotten out at all.
“I think he was my brother,” Athera said quietly. As soon as she said the words out loud the truth of them rang through her. “He’s my brother, and he stole my griffin.”