Modern Magick

The Road to Farringale: 17

My ears rang with the raucous shrieking of the griffin as it descended upon me, all screaming fury and intent to kill. How beautiful it was in that moment, I thought, as I rummaged frantically inside the neck of my dress. What sleek lines, what elegance, what gleaming, velvety hide—

Then Rob was there. Of course he was; that's what I'd brought him for. He was so heroic as to cover my body with his own, making of himself a shield between me and the griffin. How lovely was that? Unfortunately, he also had a knife in each hand. They were the charmed kind: fearsomely sharp, wrought from something silvery and glinting with the light of enchantment. He would throw them and they would not miss. They would bury themselves in the eyeballs of those fierce, glorious, terrifying creatures and the griffins would die and it would be all my fault.

'No!' I screamed, and rolled away from Rob. I had what I needed: my pipes. I scrambled to my feet, shoved Rob aside as the first griffin went swooping past, and raised my precious syrinx pipes to my lips.

The melody I played was markedly different from the tune that had summoned Adeline and her unicorn friends. This one began as a sharp, penetrating sequence of notes, a blast of charmed music intended to interrupt our assailant, to halt it in its tracks. It worked. The griffin stopped abruptly and hovered there, only ten feet from me. What a pity that I could not hold it for long! For I wanted to go up close to it, to study it, to admire it. I could sketch it, take back a detailed record of its surprising existence for the Society.

But no charm could hold so powerful a creature for long, even with my pipes to amplify the effect. My melody changed: from my silvery flutes poured a slow, languid stream of notes, a drowsy lullaby, a tune to invoke yearning thoughts of nests and safety and warmth and sleep...

The griffin drifted a while, caught in the grip of a waking dream. Then, slowly, it floated away upon somnolent wings, returning to its nest in those glorious golden clouds. Its brethren followed, and soon the skies were clear of griffins once more.

Rob was not pleased with me.

'What did you mean by stopping me?' he demanded. 'It nearly killed you!'

'I couldn't let you destroy it.'

'It nearly killed me.'

'I am most assuredly sorry for that, but it did not kill you.' I went to help him up. He took my hand with poor grace and rose with a groan of effort, or perhaps pain.

'I am getting far too old for this,' he muttered, eyeing me with no friendly feelings whatsoever.

Jay and Alban came cautiously out of the mansion again, searching the sky for griffins. 'Are they gone?' said Jay.

'Yes.'

'Was it the pipes? We heard music.'

'It was.' I stashed them in their usual place, a process from which all three gentlemen politely averted their eyes. 'Shall we move on?'

'I definitely need to get me a set of those,' muttered Jay.

Rob was not finished with me. 'Ves,' he said firmly. 'If you bring me along to help keep you from not dying, then I need you to let me do my job.'

'I will, I promise, and I really am sorry. But I did not expect griffins. Griffins, Rob! They're supposed to be extinct!'

'And you were almost dead.'

'Almost! But not! All is well, and nobody had to die. Not me, not you, and not the magickal beasts of legend which we all thought we'd lost centuries ago.'