once, clumsily. It was enough. He leapt at Kraee with all his strength. His front talons hit the other griffin square in the neck.
There was a crack and a thump, and Kraee fell, writhing on the ground. Darkheart did not pause over the dying griffin. He hit him again, in the back of the neck, and shook him violently until he stilled. Then, ignoring the yells of the crowd, he began to eat.
In the end it took twelve strong men to fight him into submission. They threw a net over him and pinned him down, and then wrenched his beak open and poured something bitter-tasting into it. A few moments later, exhaustion and weakness enveloped him, smothering his will to fight back. He could only just stand up when they reattached the chains to his collar and tugged him back to his paws, and the journey back to his cage passed in a haze. When he woke up there later, he wondered if it had all been a dream. But there was still blood on his talons, and his wounds ached savagely.
And there was no answering voice from Kraee’s cage.
12
Visions
The Red Rat was bustling. Flell stood uncertainly in the doorway; she’d never seen the place so busy before. Every table was full, and the sheer volume of talk was deafening.
Thrain, perched on her shoulder, shifted nervously. “There are so many of them,” she said. “What do they do here?”
“They’re talking and drinking,” Flell explained, wincing slightly as the griffin’s talons stuck into her. “Can you see them anywhere?”
Thrain was silent for a time, scanning the room with her violet eyes. “Yes,” she said at length. “They are there. By the fire.”
Flell looked in that direction, and sure enough, there were Bran and Gern, sharing a drink. There was no-one else with them, and her heart sank. But she went toward them anyway, practically wading through the mass of people crammed into the tavern. It was so crowded that barely anyone noticed she had a griffin with her, so she didn’t attract too much attention. She managed to get to their table and sat down next to Gern, somewhat awkwardly. He and Bran stopped their conversation and looked at her with surprise.
“Hello, Flell,” said Gern, raising his voice over the hubbub. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” said Flell. “What’s going on?”
“Not much,” said Bran. “Gern’s been tellin’ me about this new griffin they got at the Arena.”
“You mean Darkheart?” said Flell. “I heard something about that. Is it really black?”
“Yeah!” Gern half-shouted. “Black and silver! Arren caught it!”
“So, he is back,” said Flell. “Gern, where is he? Have you seen him?”
“No,” said Gern. “Well, once. Where’ve you been, Flell? I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I had to go to Lansdown,” Flell explained. “Father sent me to see about something—it’s not important. Look, where’s Arren? I can’t find him.”
“Have yeh checked his house?” said Bran.
“Yes. Haven’t you?”
“Yeah, but there wasn’t anyone home. Windows shut up, no-one answerin’ the door.”
“We’ve both been,” said Gern. “If he’s there, he’s not coming out.”
“Well, haven’t you tried to find anything out?” said Flell. “What if something’s happened to him?”
Gern looked grim. “Something has happened to him,” he said. “Haven’t you heard?”
“No, what’s going on?”
“Eluna’s dead,” said Gern. “I heard it days ago.”
Flell froze. “What? How?”
“It’s all over the city,” said Gern. “Arren didn’t have permission to go to Rivermeet. He just heard about it from your father and ran off on his own.”
“But why?” said Flell. “He wouldn’t do something like that!”
“But he did,” said Gern. “Or that’s what I’ve been told. He fought the black griffin on his own, and he caught it, but Eluna got killed. He came back here and Lady Riona sacked him for disobeying her. No-one seems to have seen him since then.”
“We’ve been to his house dozens of times,” said Bran. “Never saw a sign of him. His neighbours ain’t seen him, either. We’ve got no idea where he’s gone.”
“I’ve heard all sorts of things,” said Gern. “Someone said he’s left the city. Gone to the North, to find his people.”
“His people are here,” Flell snapped. “You know he doesn’t think like that, Gern.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” said Gern, holding up a hand as if to shield himself. “I didn’t believe it. And someone else said he’s killed himself, which I don’t believe, either. That’s rubbish. He’d never do something like that. And someone else said he’s been locked up.”