Free The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy) by K. J. Taylor Page A

watching him with those pale green eyes while servants laid out the food.
    Erian’s mouth had gone dry. He drank some cider to calm himself down and tried to think of something to say. All his words seemed to disappear when Elkin was there.
    “Try some of the venison,” she said. “It’s roasted in cymran juice and honey.”
    He obeyed. “It’s delicious.” Any possible follow-up escaped him.
    They ate in awkward silence, while behind them Senneck and Kraal huffed at each other. Senneck seemed intimidated by the massive white griffin and kept her distance from him. Erian saw her, and felt more empathy for her than he had in ages.
    As the uncomfortable meal drew on, he started to panic. He’d barely said anything since he’d arrived, and if he didn’t speak soon his last chance would be gone.
    He was so caught up in his own embarrassment that he utterly failed to notice that Elkin was just as quiet and fumbling as himself. But in the end, it was she who spoke.
    “What do you think about all this, Erian?” she asked.
    He started, nearly upsetting his cup in the process. “What—I mean, uh . . . what do I think about what?”
    “All this,” she said. “Everything that happened today. After all, you were mixed up in it.”
    Erian glanced at Kraal. “I don’t really know what to think. I’m . . . scared.”
    Elkin half-laughed. “Of course you are! I’m afraid. If you said you weren’t, I would know you were lying.”
    Erian blushed, but his old desire to impress her made him square his shoulders. “I’m afraid of him, but I’m going to fight back. I swore to see him dead, and I’ll keep my word. I’ll always keep my word, the way a griffiner should.”
    Elkin smiled. “I knew you would. But I wonder . . . what does Kraal think you’re going to find on this island?”
    “A weapon,” Erian said instantly. “Something that can kill him. I’m sure of it.”
    She put her head on one side. “Why so certain, Erian?”
    He could feel his blush deepening, but he pushed on regardless. “What else could it be? If I’m the one to find it—I’m not much, but I know I’m a warrior. I was trained in swordplay since I was seven years old. If I’m going to be given something to defeat him, it has to be a weapon.”
    “I suppose so,” said Elkin.
    The cider had already gone to Erian’s head. “And—and—I’ve been thinking. If he’s been sent to fight us, then maybe I’m meant to fight him . Maybe it’s destiny. Maybe—maybe it’s Gryphus’ will.”
    Elkin watched him. “May—be,” she said, very slowly. “You could ask Kraal that, but now isn’t the time. He never talks when he’s eating.”
    Erian’s look toward her didn’t waver. “I think it’s Gryphus. I think he sent me. Made me. To stop the darkness.”
    “You sound very certain,” said Elkin, in the same cautious manner as before.
    “I have a reason,” Erian told her hastily. “There’s a reason I think that.”
    “Yes? What reason?”
    He looked at the tabletop. “I’ve . . . I’ve never really told anyone this before, but . . .”
    “Yes?”
    Erian gathered his wits, and ploughed on. “I was born in a village called Carrick. They farmed cows there. And bees. It’s where Eagleholm got most of its honey. There were orchards there, too. I remember them . . . they smelled wonderful in the spring. I used to practise there, with my wooden sword.” He looked wistful. “My mother was a tavern maid. Belara. Bell, they called her. My father stayed at the tavern on his way back home from the war, and he and my mother—well, they spent the night together. He left after that and never came back to her. But when the tavern owner found out she was pregnant, he threw her out. She went to the temple instead. There was a small one there, with just one priest. No griffin, just a bell. The priest let her stay and help him gather flowers and bring new candles.” Erian took a deep breath. “I was born in that temple. My mother