The Dark Griffin - K. J. Taylor Page 0,35

able to live together without fighting. It was something alien to him. They were too intelligent to be herd animals, like goats, and yet they swarmed together like a herd.

The black griffin tensed. Now.

He dived, front talons spread wide. The human never even saw him coming. He passed over it and snatched it up in his talons before he flew upward again with scarcely a sound, taking the human with him.

The human didn’t move at first, but as he flew away with it dangling beneath him it started to struggle and cry out in distress. It was calling for help from its fellows, but the black griffin knew it wouldn’t be heard. He flew off in a leisurely way over the village and the fields beyond, heading back toward the mountains and his valley. The human continued to writhe in his grip, and he was glad about that. If it could still move around then it probably wasn’t badly hurt.

He passed over the tallest mountain and into his valley, and landed in the overhang. There he let go of the human. It tried to crawl away almost instantly, but he blocked its way—not hitting it but simply forcing it to turn back. It found its feet and bolted, taking him by surprise, but he caught up with it in a few quick bounds and dragged it back. It kept on trying to escape, but it was far too slow, and in the end it gave up and huddled in the back of the overhang, whimpering pathetically. The black griffin curled up and watched it. The others had done this, too. He would have to stay awake all night to keep an eye on it, in case it ran again.

When the sun finally rose, the man woke up from the shallow doze he’d managed to fall into and jerked upright almost instantly, terror hitting him in the chest. The light of dawn showed him the overhang and the huge, hunched shape of the black griffin sitting not far away, watching him. The man pulled back as far as he could into the overhang, staring at the beast in terror. He was expecting it to rush at him at any moment, but it didn’t. It stayed where it was, perfectly still except for the twitching of its tail, not taking its eyes off him.

The man looked around, searching for a weapon, and that was when he saw them.

Bones. Human bones scattered over the dirt floor of the overhang. There was a pair of pathetically small skulls at the far end, one smashed open by a huge beak. Bits of torn cloth lay with the bones, along with coins and boots and the bits and pieces of things people carried around in their pockets. And there was a smell, a rank, rancid, choking smell.

The man started to shudder. He forced himself to look away, toward the weird shapes painted on the back wall of the griffin’s lair. But he could not block the smell from entering his nostrils. His arm and shoulder hurt from where the griffin’s talons had cut into him, and he was cold.

He realised that there were tears starting to stream down his face.

“Ee ar kaee?”

The man turned sharply, raising his hands instinctively to defend himself. The griffin had risen to its claws and was moving toward him, tail swishing.

“Stay away from me!” he screamed.

The griffin stopped and sat on its haunches, regarding him threateningly. The man’s eyes darted to and fro as he searched for an escape route, but there was nowhere to go. He backed away until he hit the wall and slid down it onto the ground, nearly sick with terror.

The griffin moved closer. It stretched its head toward him, beak opening slightly. “Ae aa krae ae?” it said. The sound was a weird, hoarse screech-snarl, low and aggressive.

The man’s fingers closed around a bone. As the griffin lowered its head to sniff at him, he screamed suddenly and swung the bone as hard as he could, hitting it on the head. There was a hollow thunk as it connected, and he lurched away from the griffin and started to run.

Something hit him in the back almost instantly. He fell hard onto his stomach, and then the griffin was on him, lifting him off the ground and hurling him back into the overhang. He hit the wall and landed on the floor among the bones, winded and gasping.

The griffin rose onto its hind legs, wings spread wide,

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