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Coup
4
“Thank you, Rae.” Crystal took the ice pack, and in a flurry of golden feathers, disappeared into the master bedroom. That left the high-flyer with the twins, who stared up at her with huge solemn eyes; grey eyes that seemed far older and far wiser than their age of little over a year. There was Sular, so named after his famous ancestor on Muse’s side, the Vahazayi Sular Ventrishika; he was a bit bigger in frame, but wirier, taking after his father in that, as well as in coat color. Little Sular had the same rich smokey-blue plush fur as his sire, but his wolfish tail was tipped in black and he had a splash of white on his breast. His dexterous forepaws also looked as if he’d been dipping into his mother’s inkwell and splashed it onto his pinions. Shyne, his sister, took after their mother in color, although she was a more rich gold. She also had the tipped tail, wings and fore, but her ears were also tipped black and she lacked the white breast. Both children had the gryphonic structure of Muse with Crystal’s eight Vahazayi crest feathers and grey eyes.
“Auntie Rae…?” Sular inquired. “Is Daddy gonna be ok? Momma didn’t say much after she had to drug him in the room.”
Raeliyah coughed delicately and glanced at their sober little toddler faces. A wild howl echoed from the master bedroom.
“THAT’S COLD!”
Sular and Shyne’s heads swiveled towards that sound and rushed up to the closed door, leaping up and putting their forepaws on the outside. Shyne turned her head back towards an awkward Raeliyah. “Auntie! That was Daddy! Wuz wrong? Why won’t anyone tell us?”
The door opened and the twins fell backwards, rolling like twain bundles of fuzz onto the rung. Crystal stepped out, but hooked her hand on the frame and called back into the room: “Now, keep it there! I know it’s cold. It’s supposed to be.”
“And what do I do if it falls off, eh, love?”
“We’ll get Fareme to meld it back on, so there!”
Crystal closed the door and looked down at her bundle of children. They both got up and ran into her arms. “Maaaaaaaa-maaaaaaa!” they chorused. “Is Daddy ok?”
“What’s gonna fall offa Daddy, Momma?”
The golden gryphoness bent to nuzzle her offspring. “Nothing’s going to fall off of Daddy, loves. Daddy is being what we call tevensar back home; he knows that it’s good for him. Go play, Momma needs to talk to Auntie Rae.”
She gave them a love-tap that sent them sprawling and rolling into each other. The twins set off for their room and set upon their toy box. Once they’d gone, Crystal rubbed her nares and grinned at the stunned Raeliyah. “Oh, don’t look so poleaxed, hun! I swear, those who come from cold climates can be such babies at times.”
The red kite gryphoness nodded and scratched under her flying harness methodically. “Anything else you need, Crystal?”
“Mm? Me? Oh no. I’ll just be staying here and tending to my third child.”
“Ah, well, the Winds keep you both. I’ll be heading out, then.”
“Thanks again, hun. I’ll see you at dinner or something …”
Raeliyah turned and left, closing the door behind her as she did so. Males, she heard Crystal say with affection.
As she stepped out into the corridor, she stopped and watched the odd trio of workers across the hall. “How’s it coming, Kynekh?”
The vulturine gryphoness gripped the ladder and faced her. “Eh? Not bad. SilverFlame’s a pretty good painter, even if he can be a grump,” she mouthed with a smile. “We should be done in a bit with this extra hand. Could you alert the café to have a meal prepared for three in about, oh, an hour?”
Raeliyah chuckled to herself. First ice-carrier, now messenger. “Sure. What do you want?”
“Hey!” Kynekh tossed out to her comrades. “Whatcha want for dinner?”
SilverFlame shrugged. “I’m not particularly picky,” he said, standing back to eye-ball his dripping wall. Ember tossed him a rag which he dutifully used to mop up the spillage.
“Ember?”
“Uhm… a salad, I suppose. Is that ok?”
“Oh yeah,” Raeliyah replied, committing it to memory. “Kynekh?”
The vulturine gryphoness’ eyes twinkled. “Do you really want to know—I mean, look at me, dear! Just tell the staff I’ll take whatever they were gonna throw away, ’kay?”
“Uhm, sure!” With a wave, she bounded off.
* * *
Storm clouds rolled in the distance, aggravated by the mistress’ fury and temper. “WHO DID THIS!?” she demanded, shaking her fists to the air. “Answer me, now!”
Something moved in the darkness of the cave entrance. Maly hovered on tiring wings, straining to see what was going on.
A body—there was a body coming out. The limp figure was almost indistinguishable from the charcoal rock around it, but the one bit of brightness on it clinched its identity. A hole in its neck still oozed—sign of a recent kill; the sluggish black blood pooled on the rock, the head hanging on by a mere line of sinew and shattered bone. The esophagus was pulled out and the tongue stuffed down the throat to poke out like a gruesome tie.
Maly’s ire rose thick and vacuous. Someone had killed one of her Doomhound guards! As she watched, another Doomhound body was placed alongside in the same invisible manner. This one had its guts hanging out like snakes, streaming onto the platform.
The hematite dragoness had enough. She drew back and leveled herself at the lair. With her waning strength, she plummeted—straight into the force field. Bone cracked and horn splintered. Malystryxx clawed at the wards, blood flowing freely from her grey muzzle. Her blunt yet sharp claws caught on nothing, slid down the face of the ward as if she were trying to grasp an eel.
Twin tails came lashing out from either side, the spikes bouncing off the ward in vain. As Maly beat upon the immobile device, a shadow detached itself from the rest, resolving itself into a familiar pattern.
But different form.
At this point, Maly didn’t care to reproach her slave. “Poison! What is the meaning of this? Who has infiltrated Nightwings and killed my guards?”
The purple dragoness sat on her haunches and cocked her head. “No one has infiltrated Nightwings, lady,” she replied evenly.
“Don’t give me any of that bullshit, Poison! I want answers and I want them now!”
Poison raised her forepaws and spread them apart disarmingly. “Answers, lady? Fine then, I’ll tell you. I am the one who has infiltrated Nightwings—with your own spells, lady!”
Malystryxx’s heart dropped into the bottom of her belly scales. She tried to compose herself, but the audacity and utter betrayal set before her was too much to bear. With an ear-splitting roar, she drew on her powers and sent a vile levinbolt into the wards.
Her bright green eyes went utterly round when it came back and hit her in the chest. And she fell.
* * *
“Did you hear that, Eth?”
Etherrawen raised her head off the couch arm and eyed Tyr. “Hear what?”
The tigergryphoness made a vague motion in the air. “That rumble. It’s not the season for storms yet; the mages said the next one should come in a few weeks.”
Eth jerked her head in the direction of the Nook. “That’s your rumble, over there, Tyr.”
Tyr turned her head and flicked her long ears forward. There was a loud noise, much like that rumble, coming from the Nook. She slipped off her chair and padded over to investigate.
“No, no! Please, get down!”
The DarkEmpress slid around the corner of the small enclave and stared in shock at the sight: Diana, the changeling dragoness, was tied up in the corner by two newbies, who were then rampaging the room. Tath, Diana and Crystal’s carefully-ordered files were all over the room, as well as hanging off of Diana’s head.
Copyright 2002, Crystal Shekeira. All Guilders are © themselves. The Gryphon's Guild is trademarked to Tserisa Supalla. All other names, places and events are © MH. Do not alter, copy or distribute.
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