Free Sword of Fire and Sea (The Chaos Knight Book One) by Erin Hoffman

Kara'zul. I must speak with Endera.”
    “That is impossible. Only the inducted are permitted to travel to the High Temple.” At his visible umbrage, her brow furrowed. “I myself have been there only once.” When Vidarian did not waver, the priestess spoke again, folding her hands on the desk with earnestness. “I wish to help you, truly, but what you ask is not within my power.”
    “Then who should I seek?”
    She stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “If you travel to the foot of the Mountains of Sher'azar, where Kara'zul lies beyond, you will find another conclave of our Order.”
    “Sher'azar…those mountains are weeks away.” He spoke mostly to himself, a horrible discouragement sinking down around his shoulders, but she answered.
    “Luck is with you in that much. Your crew must stay here, but there is another way for you to go, if you are strong enough.” A glint of speculation shone in her eyes, and it reminded him painfully of Ariadel.
    “Show me.”
    She smiled. “Go to your crew and tell them of your journey. I will bring the rest to you.”

    When Vidarian returned to the cart he saw the crew in a new light. It was apparent that, throughout his passage in the halls of the fire priestesses, they had not spoken. Each sat slumped, eyes not quite focused, and he recognized their pain as his own. He cursed himself for not realizing that the crew might also blame themselves for not protecting Ariadel.
     
    Breaking into a trot, he closed the gap between himself and the cart and swung up onto the driver's bench. Clasping Calgrath's shoulder, he shook the men from their introspection.
    “The priestesses have agreed to help us,” he began, and they brightened, “but I must ask you to stay here. They have some way of giving me passage to Kara'zul, but only on the condition that you remain. I cannot ask it of you…” He trailed off, looking at them.
    Calgrath glanced at the other two, then settled his eyes back on his captain. “We'll be here, sir.” With that, he reached up to clasp Vidarian's shoulder briefly, but firmly. The others nodded.
    Vidarian was about to offer his thanks when all three of the other men suddenly gasped. Two of them reached for weapons. Expecting the worst, Vidarian turned.
    Passing through a large archway came a trio of creatures, filing one at a time, that were straight out of a storybook. A very lethal storybook—one of those where the children get eaten at the end.
    Their forequarters were of a goshawk, if a goshawk could be the size of a horse—complete with white and navy feathers and slightly unhinged-looking red eyes. The hindquarters were heavily built, something like a mountain lion's, but with claws that did not retract and which dug divots into the packed earth of the courtyard as they walked. Massive wings shifted with each supple movement and their tufted ears flicked to and fro with alertness.
    Gryphons. The holy books said that each of the goddesses kept them, but he'd never quite believed it. Now he understood the statues that decorated nearly every elemental shrine he had visited before. None of them did the creatures justice.
    While he was still gawking, the first of the three captured his gaze with burning red eyes. Then there was a voice in his head, coppery like the taste of fresh metal: // My, my, Captain. You look as if you've swallowed a fish sideways. //
    It was too much. It was too gods-be-damned much. Vidarian, who had ridden three hurricanes and safely navigated Dead Man's Hook four times without breaking a sweat, fell over in a dead faint.

    He woke to the sensation of being gently rocked in the embrace of a soft hammock. A faint creak as of braided hemp on wooden beams vouched for this illusion, and he could almost hear the rush of the sea. Vidarian opened his eyes to the sight of a soaring sky spreading overhead in every direction.
     
    But the rhythmic pulse that vibrated in the air was not the rush of waves against a rocky coast.
    As