saw her homeland below, she shed tears.
They flew, a hundred griffins, a bound Vir Requis, crossing hundreds of leagues, heading to the Marble City, to Confutatis, to Dies Irae's home.
Fly west, Agnus Dei, Lacrimosa thought, willing the words into her daughter's mind. Fly away from here, fly to find your true dragons, fly with Kyrie into distant lands. And my sweet husband, I pray that you too flee, that you too fly west, though I know you're coming here, that you're following.
That last thought made fear wash over her, colder and crueler than any fear she'd ever known. As the talons clutched her, and Dies Irae barked commands above, Lacrimosa shut her eyes and trembled.
BENEDICTUS
Benedictus cursed as he flew.
He cursed such foul words, he thought birds might fall dead from the sky, and the clouds themselves wilt. He cursed his old bones, and the wound on his chest that ached in this high, cold air above the clouds. He cursed himself for sleeping while Dies Irae had kidnapped Lacrimosa. Most of all, he cursed his torn wing; it meant he flew so much slower than griffins, flew so slowly as Dies Irae bore Lacrimosa to imprisonment and torture.
"You got what you wanted, brother," he said as he flapped that wobbly, torn wing. The clouds streamed around him. "You got me out of hiding. I'm flying to meet you again."
He knew what he must do. He knew what he should have done years ago. He would meet Dies Irae, kill the man, and steal back the Griffin Heart. With the amulet, he could reclaim the griffins. With the amulet, he could topple Confutatis, that city of marble and gold and malice. With the amulet, he could save Lacrimosa, save his children, create a world safe for Vir Requis.
"I will face you again, brother, and kill you. I spared you last time. No more."
Benedictus sighed, a deep sigh that felt close to a sob. Were these but fantasies? In his mind, he saw himself biting his brother, spilling his blood, killing him for all the evil he'd done. He saw himself with the Griffin Heart, the old hero, King Benedictus risen to reclaim his glory.
He sighed again. Fantasies. Deep inside his old heart, he knew that he flew to his death, a death at Lacrimosa's side. I will die with you in the Marble City, Lacrimosa, but in our hearts, we will be in Requiem.
He thought of his daughters—of Agnus Dei, who grew hunted, and of Gloriae, who grew molded into evil—and a tear fled Benedictus's eye. It had been so long since he'd cried, and when he looked down to see where his tear fell, he saw the ruins of Requiem. Once those forests had rustled with countless birch trees, and Vir Requis children raced between statues, and wise elders walked in robes upon cobblestones. Now the birches were burned, still blackened, and ivy grew over smashed columns. So many lay dead there—a million skeletons burned and broken. His parents, his wise old uncles, his fussy aunts, the cousins he would wrestle and hunt with, his friends... all dead now, all bones and ash.
Benedictus forced his gaze away. He narrowed his eyes and stared east. Confutatis lay beyond that horizon.
Dawn was rising, the sky was clear, and this was griffin country. It's too dangerous to fly in the open, Benedictus thought.
As if to answer his thought, shrieks sounded below. Benedictus stared down to see three griffins upon a fortress.
Benedictus cursed. He tried to fly faster, but could not. As he watched, riders leaped onto the griffins, and they flew toward him.
Benedictus flapped his wings as powerfully as he could, but his left wing blazed with pain, and he grunted. "So much for out-flying them," he muttered.
He roared, reached out his claws, and then the griffins were upon him.
He took out the first one with a blaze of flame. As it fell burning, the other two griffins attacked, one at each side. Benedictus slammed his tail into the right griffin. He hit its rider, sending the man tumbling to the ground. The left griffin bit Benedictus's shoulder, and he roared.
He clawed the griffin, etching red lines down its flank. The right griffin was riderless, but still attacked, and Benedictus howled as its talons scratched him. He lashed his tail, bit, and clawed. He hit one griffin, and it tumbled. The second bit again, and Benedictus roared and blew fire. It caught flame, and Benedictus bit into its roasting flesh, spat out a