Free The Subtle Beauty by Ann Hunter Page B

yous to Odessa. Glory gushed to her rider, but he motioned with his hand to keep quiet.

    Through the night they rode frantically. The horse’s hooves hammered the ground with staccato, matching the beat of Glory’s heart. The fields rose and fell, undulating with the countryside, as they passed through Edward’s Bane. They splashed through Four Elders Fjord, through all of Iron Berry County and over the banks of the River Trefnwy near Council’s Realm. That was where Glory stopped recognizing her surroundings.
    She snuggled close to the cloak, feeling its warmth in the chilly midnight rush. She held her arms tight around the man’s waist and sighed, “Oh, Colin, we’re going to be so happy together. We will make a beautiful home with ample fields and crops, and your falconry trade will afford us a few servants. I would help out, of course, except that I will be too busy keeping myself perfect and pretty for you.”
    Glory rambled on and on through the night. The horse’s breaths came rhythmically. He dug in to the earth and sped on when they passed a barren forest of gangly, spectral trees and through a lush, floral fiefdom, barreling up the coast. Cliffs plummeted beside them, the ocean beating against the rocks and black coral. Moonlight glinted off the sea. Something arched through the water that was neither whale nor shark, but serpentine. Glory’s breath caught. “Did you see that?”
    The horse’s excitement seemed to grow even more when he raced through an eerie, hilly valley, and crested over a horizon stamped with a wide and ominous Celtic arch.
    Glory began to wonder why Colin wasn’t responding to any of her comments. Maybe he couldn’t hear her over the wind and the galloping, so she tried speaking louder, but still no response.
    The land changed to high moors, and a castle began to rise in the distance.
    A water droplet landed on Glory’s nose. Another on her forehead. One more on her chin as she turned her face skyward. Suddenly she was soaked as the heavens ripped opened and poured out their anguish. Thunder rumbled and a flash of light split the sky. Glory cringed. The castle came into full view. A heavy iron gate began to open.
    “Colin, when did you acquire a castle?”
    The horse’s hooves clattered into the bailey, slowing to a canter.
    Glory felt faint. “You are not Colin, are you?”
    Something massive and eerie moved in the shadows ahead.
    The horse came to a halt and the rider dismounted. He grabbed Glory’s waist, and the hood of his cloak fell back to reveal a dark-haired man, not at all like Colin. He spoke with a husky brogue. “Do you never shut up? I do not know who this Colin fellow is, but welcome to Blackthorn Keep.”
    Glory tried to fight him. “Unhand me at once! Who do you think you are? My father will hear about this.”
    Suddenly the massive shape in the shadows took form. It walked through the rain on two scaly forelegs and two furry hind paws. Glory screamed. Her fists pummeled the man’s shoulders, and her feet flailed. The horse spooked. The creature in the rain paced with agitation; its tufted tail swished angrily. “ 4
    An í seo an cailín ?” it asked in a clear baritone.
    The man nodded. “ 5 Is í .”
    “How dare you! Do you even know who I am?” Glory howled.
    The creature drew closer, its amber eyes fixed on Glory, studying her features. It was a gryphon, something Maeb had scared her with during bedtime stories as a child. Always imagined, she believed, never realized until now. The hair on the back of Glory’s neck stood on end. The gryphon reeked of wet hide and raw meat, a stench far worse than any of her father’s dogs after a soggy foxhunt. Glory felt hollow.
    “Send her back,” said the gryphon.
    Glory stopped fighting. Both she and the cloaked man asked simultaneously, “What?”
    The gryphon’s black beak clacked, yellow ceres flaring. “You promised to bring Eoghan a beautiful princess, Xander.”
    “And I have.”
    “Indeed!”