The Vexation of Vampires (Penny White Book 5) Page 2

  Chapter Two

  We swung away from the loch and towards the nearby hills. Far too late, I wondered if any tourists would be out searching for Nessie. I could only hope that they were looking down, rather than up, and therefore not notice a woman who appeared to be flying through the air. Maybe I should start wearing a superhero cape.

  Raven pounded his wings. We rose higher, and then passed through a thin place. Cold bit into my fingers and face as we soared over a flat stretch of ice. I had the briefest glimpse of a large white bear tearing into a seal before Raven dipped sideways and took us back to Earth.

  We were diving between two skyscrapers. I inwardly lodged a protest. Later, when we were safely landed, I would have to speak to the dragon about his choice of crossing places. Large human cities should be ruled out.

  Traffic roared below us as Raven twisted into a dive. Morey hunkered down, grasping my shoulder as windows and steel flashed past on either side. A black bus was only fifty feet away, and I was certain that at least one pedestrian was pointing up at me.

  Then we were back above Daear. The scrubland sliding past beneath us looked in desperate need of rain. Sunlight blared down onto my head, and I felt my forehead dampen with sweat. Morey loosened his death grip, and pricks of pain told me that his claws had pierced through my clothes. Raven extended his wings and took us into a long glide.

  To my relief, the brown tents of Clan Cornovi were spread out along a nearby ridge. Gryphons were stretched out in the heat, tails making the occasional lazy twitch as they dozed. Raven brought us near, and I saw that the tents had been arranged in a large square.

  We landed just outside. Morey took off and flew over the top of the shelters, then dropped into the centre. I slipped down to the hard ground and rested a hand on Raven’s side. ‘Do you want to join us?’

  The dragon snorted. ‘I decided to leave the matriarch’s service, remember? I can’t think that she’d want to see me. I’ll wait for you here.’

  Mud dropped off my boots as I marched over to the tents. I dug around in my backpack, and was pleased to find a tube of sun lotion. Just outside the entrance, I paused a moment to plaster cream over my face. Maybe one day I’d think to pack a hat. And sunglasses. And a crystal ball, so I’d know in advance where in Daear I’d end up next.

  Actually, it was probably against some church law for a priest to own a crystal ball. I’d pose the question to my archdeacon the next time we met.

  I dumped my backpack at the entrance, then walked through to the square beyond. Carpets of red and brown lapped up to the flaps of the tents. Gryphons were grouped in threes and fours. Most were the clan’s standard combination of brown eagle and tawny lion, but a black hawk and panther mixture sat on my left, and a tawny owl and leopard blend was circling overhead.

  A tent flap shuddered, then was pulled aside. The matriarch ducked her eagle head as she emerged. I found myself straightening. Living with Morey and Taryn made me forget how large a full-sized gryphon could be. Ercwiff’s muscular shoulders were the same height as my own, and her yellow beak looked large enough to tear off a human’s arm. A chain of gold gleamed around her neck, and the jewels embedded in the links sparkled in the bright sunlight.

  Morey marched across the carpets. ‘Cyfarchion, Ercwiff, anrhydeddus Fatriarch y Cornovi.’

  Ercwiff bent her head at his formal greeting. ‘Welcome, Trahaearneifion,’ she responded in Welsh, saying Morey’s real name with an ease which I could never match. ‘Your eyasses are strong and well?’

  ‘They are, Matriarch Grandmother.’

  ‘And they’re ready to leave the nest and be trained by a exemplar?’

  ‘They are, Matriarch Grandmother.’ Morey’s ears flicked. ‘I had expected they’d be here by now.’

  ‘Arnborg has been sent for your wife and eyasses.’ Her red eyes narrowed, and she lowered her head to stare at the much smaller gryphon. ‘I hear that you’ve had them made into Christians.’

  ‘They’ve been baptized,’ Morey replied evenly. ‘I pray daily that they will take on the Christian faith for themselves. Whether they do so is up to them and the Holy Spirit.’

  Ercwiff stamped the ground with one of her lion hind feet. ‘You follow a strange religion, Trahaearneifion.’

  Morey lifted his wings in a shrug. ‘I have found Christ to be the way, the truth, and the life. If you ever want a real discussion, Grandmother, just let me know.’

  Four balls of feather and fur flew at their father, cutting off Ercwiff’s reply. Morey’s back relaxed as his children rubbed their heads along his neck and shoulders. The three female eyasses were nearly Morey’s size, although their bodies still needed to fill out. Morey’s son, and look-alike, was a third smaller than his sisters.

  Taryn landed next to her husband, her peregrine-cheetah body a bright yellow contrast to Morey’s purple grey. ‘Where’s Jago?’ he asked, looking up at his larger wife.

  ‘Coming,’ James called out cheerfully. His clean white shirt and dark trousers made me brush uselessly at the stains on my own travel-worn clothing. Jago sat on my brother’s right shoulder. The bright blue gryphon fit easily under James’ right ear. I glanced around at the tall clan members and hoped that our plans would be accepted. The idea of Jago trying to hunt with gryphons whose heads were larger than his entire body filled me with dread.

  ‘And I’ve brought someone else,’ James continued. He swung a backpack from his left shoulder and handed it to me.

  The weight was less than I’d anticipated, so for a moment I wondered whether I’d guessed wrongly. But when I placed the bag on the ground and opened the top, two tentacles poked out of the flap. ‘Clyde! I’m so glad you’re here.’

  ‘Godfather,’ he reminded me proudly, purple swirling through his body. The snail crawled out and into my arms. His wounds had healed enough that he no longer needed to wear bandages, but I winced as I glanced at the part of his shell which had once covered his wings.

  James gave us a quick grin, and then launched into the words Morey had patiently drilled into him. ‘Fatriarch Cornovi, yr wyf yn barod i ddod yn frawd gwaed i Adare, Piran, ac Ivori.’

  His Welsh was, I felt, even worse than mine. Ercwiff tiled her head to look at Morey, who explained quickly in fluent Welsh, ‘He has been invited to become blood brother to the gryphons which had hunted him, and James now accepts that high honour.’

  ‘Then we will undertake that first,’ Ercwiff declared. ‘Come forth, Adare, Piran, and Ivori.’

  The three gryphons swooped down from the sky and landed neatly beside her. The first, a brown eagle and lion combination, was a smaller version of the matriarch. The other two were more of a contrast, one being an osprey-panther combination, and the third a tan and orange owl-tiger.

  They dropped into a deep bow, extending their bird forelegs low to the ground. ‘Greetings to the nest siblings, Penny and James,’ said the owl-tiger gryphon in English. ‘Brave hunters both. We are honoured by your presence.’

  There was an expectant pause. I watched as the muscles along James’ jaw tightened and relaxed. Finally, he muttered, ‘Yes, well, great to be here. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘First we will give you a new name to add to your own,’ the osprey-panther said. ‘We have scoured the wind and the stars to find a name worthy of your courage.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ Red spread across James’ face. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Manawydan,’ the eagle-lion declared. ‘Ffrind mawr ac ymgynghorydd.’

  ‘A great friend and advisor,’ I translated for James.

  ‘And you have chosen magnificent names for us,’ the osprey-panther continued. ‘Larry, Curly, and Moe.’

  James cleared his throat. ‘Actually, I’ve been thinking that over. Consulted, um, charts and stars and things. Space. The final frontier. Remind me what names you have now?’

  ‘Adare,’ announced the eagle-lion.

  The owl-tiger arched her neck. ‘Ivori.’

  ‘Piran,’ the osprey-panther
said.

  ‘Then I name you Adare Kirk, Piran Spock, and Ivori Bones.’ James held up his hand in the Vulcan salute. ‘Live long and prosper.’

  ‘Those are good and strong names, James Manawydan,’ Ercwiff said. ‘I invite all of you to now mingle blood and become one pack.’

  James paled slightly, then nodded. ‘I guess I need a knife. Can I borrow yours, Pen?’

  I shook my head. ‘Not unless we want Raven to fly over. Remember? He always knows when I open the blade.’

  ‘No need for a knife,’ Piran said. ‘Hold out your arm.’

  Jago chirped a note of encouragement. James rolled up his shirt sleeve and held out his left arm. Piran reached out with her ivory beak and slashed across James’ skin. My brother took a sharp intake of breath as a trickle of blood emerged from the short cut. But he held still as the gryphons opened wounds on their toes and, one by one, pressed the bleeding cuts to his skin.

  ‘Welcome to the clan, James Manawydan.’ Ercwiff arched her neck. ‘And now, it’s time for the youngest members of our company to leave nest and parents, and be trained by others in the clan. Let us hear from each of them in turn.’

  Rothgen marched forwards. Her peregrine-and-cheetah body was a startling grey and yellow contrast against the tawny hide of her great-grandmother. ‘I am the eldest, and so I speak first,’ she said in Welsh. ‘My birth name is Rothgen, and I relish the strategy of the hunt. Who will teach me how to outwit the wiliest of prey?’

  The owl-leopard gryphon swooped down. A puff of dust flew up from her claws as she landed neatly beside Ercwiff. The large eyes studied the eyas for a moment. ‘Rwyf wedi dilyn trywydd mamothiaid a threchu gwenyn. Mae hyd yn oed seirff yn ceisio fy noethineb. Fi, Tarian, fydd dy esiampl gyw.’

  I whispered a translation for James. ‘I have tracked mammoths and outwitted bees. Even serpents seek my wisdom. I, Tarian, will be your exemplar, eyas.’

  ‘Derbyniaf,’ Rothgen agreed, and the two gryphons moved to one side.

  The hawk-panther eyas leapt over her siblings to place herself in front of the matriarch. ‘Annest,’ she announced, then continued in English, ‘and I’m a great hunter. I will be the greatest hunter the clan has ever known. Who will teach me?’

  I bit my lower lip, fearful that her much larger relations would laugh at her. To my surprise, the gryphons dipped their beaks in nods and glanced at one another. ‘I am the greatest hunter in the clan,’ Ercwiff responded in Welsh, her tone matter-of-fact. ‘Ability has little to do with size, or age. I will be your exemplar, eyas.’

  ‘Oh, she’s going with great-grandma,’ James said as Annest turned to stand beside the matriarch. ‘That’ll be interesting.’

  ‘Great hunter,’ Clyde reminded him, purple swirling through his tentacles.

  Gwilym and Eiddwen stared at each other. Then Morey’s son slowly made his way over the carpets. His voice was low, and I had to strain to hear him. ‘Rwy'n hoffi barddoniaeth. Pwy all ddysgu i mi sut i adrodd?’

  ‘What’s up with him?’ James asked me.

  ‘He’s a poet,’ I said. ‘And I think he’s worried what the clan will think. Oh, but that’s okay.’ Ercwiff was responding in Welsh. ‘Seems one clan member was declared a bard at the last Llanbedr Eisteddfod. They’d be proud to have another poet in the clan.’

  An eagle-lion gryphon walked past the gathering to stand beside Gwilym. A chain of silver links glittered around his brown neck. In Welsh, then repeated in English, he said, ‘It’s the place of a poet to celebrate the hunt with the living, and to chant the lament for the dead. I will teach you to read the wind and the waves, eyas, to wrest words from the land and the sky. I, Canafon, will be your exemplar.’

  Eiddwen gave herself a shake as all eyes came to her. Sunlight shimmered on her brown feathers and fur. I watched anxiously, but the weakness which had once affected her hind legs was gone. She strode without hesitation to the matriarch. ‘My life nearly ended on my hatching day.’ Eiddwen had also chosen to speak in English. ‘I want to study the healing arts, and one day be a medic to the clan. Who can teach me?’

  A tent flap rattled. The gryphon who emerged was nearly white. As she came into the square, limping heavily, I realised that she had once been as brown as any other eagle-lion gryphon. Age had reduced her colour and vigour. But the green eyes which came to rest on Eiddwen were bright. ‘I thought myself too old for another student. But, eyas, if you will be patient with a gryphon who depends on prey brought down by others, I, Heulyn, will teach you.’

  Eiddwen lifted her head, and they touched beaks. The younger gryphon said, ‘Hunt herbs for me, and I will bring meat to you.’

  ‘All agreed,’ Ercwiff said crisply. ‘Now only the griffwn glas remains.’

  Jago flowed down to James’ arm. ‘I am small, and blue, and unlike any other in the clan,’ he declared in English. ‘I don’t know who I am, and I need an exemplar who doesn’t know who he is, so we can find out together. Who will have me?’

  James choked. For a moment, I wondered if Jago’s harsh assessment might put my brother off. But he managed to get out, ‘I’ll be your exemplar, Jago.’

  ‘The eyasses have been chosen,’ Ercwiff announced. ‘Do their parents grant them release?’

  ‘Ydyn,’ Morey and Taryn agreed.

  ‘Then we celebrate!’

  Morey flew up to my shoulder as gryphons flooded into the centre of the settlement. They paired off and began to dance. Well, they considered it dancing. To me, it looked more like a controlled battle, as they snapped sharp beaks at each other.

  ‘Trust Jago to be so honest,’ Morey said into my ear.

  ‘Picked it up from you?’

  ‘No. My son made his own assessment of his namesake.’

  I turned my head to look him in the eye. ‘But you didn’t quite tell James the truth, did you, when you named Jago? “Jago” is not the Welsh for “James”. You should have named him “Iago”.’

  ‘We did think of that,’ Morey admitted. ‘But we couldn’t. Not with the connotations.’

  ‘What connotations?’

  ‘Shakespeare, of course. Othello.’

  ‘“To be or not to be, that is the question,”’ I said. ‘“Et tu, Brute?”’

  Morey reared up to recite:

  ‘“The Moor is of a free and open nature,

  That thinks men honest that but seem to be so,

  And will as tenderly be led by th' nose

  As asses are.

  I haven't. It is engendered. Hell and night

  Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.”’

  He settled back down, then added, ‘But, of course, it’s better in the original Welsh.’

  I grinned. ‘Don’t you mean, in the original Klingon?’

  Morey growled. ‘Keep it real, Black.’

  A sweep of wings was my only warning. I grunted as Taryn landed on my left shoulder. She was larger and heavier than Morey, and I shifted Clyde to my right in an attempt to provide some counter-balance. ‘Most of our eyasses are well matched,’ she said, her fierce voice ringing in my ear. ‘And Jago can take care of himself.’

  ‘James,’ I reminded her, ‘raised Jago after his injury. Maybe it’s best to say that they’ll care for each other.’

  ‘Friends,’ Clyde agreed.

  ‘I’m sure they’ll all do well,’ Morey said. ‘And it’s time we left.’

  ‘You don’t want to stay for the dancing?’ I asked.

  ‘Dad dancing,’ Morey explained. ‘As embarrassing to gryphon children as it is to those of humans.’

  ‘If you two want to find the dragons, I’ll collect James and Jago.’ The two gryphons left my shoulders, and I carefully stretched my back before sliding Clyde’s case around. The snail’s body was tinged with browns and greys, but he slid inside without verbal protest. He twisted around the small space, then poked his tentacles out, so I left the backpack resting against my chest.

  Convincing James to leave was a bit more difficult. Jago finally
nipped my brother’s ear, forcing James to pay attention to me. ‘But it’s just getting interesting,’ my brother grumbled as we made our way out.

  ‘You’ll be able to visit some other time.’ I held back, allowing him to go through the entrance tent ahead of me. ‘You’re a blood brother and a clan member now.’

  ‘Yeah, okay, but how do I get here? Not everyone has a dragon on tap.’

  ‘I thought you had an understanding with Tyra?’

  ‘She’s happy to take me, when I can get hold of her.’ James nudged my arm. ‘I don’t have a magical dragon-summoning knife.’

  Just as well, I thought to myself. Who knows what you’d get up to if you did? Aloud I asked, ‘Where do you want Arnborg to take you now? Caer-grawnt, or Northampton? I have an appointment in Nenehampton tomorrow, so I’m flying to England. But I’m sure Lord Willis would be happy for you to go back to his house.’

  ‘Let’s see, I could go to a cold vicarage to eat pasta, or to a warm mansion for a three-course meal.’ James cocked his head. ‘Gosh, it’s so hard to decide.’

  ‘Then I’ll see you in a couple of days. Can you take my backpack with you?’ I glanced at Jago. ‘And you, keep an eye on him, please?’

  The small gryphon’s purple and blue crest swayed as he laughed. ‘Staying in tonight!’

  I smiled back. ‘Sounds like a good idea.’

  ‘James is teaching me how to play poker.’

  The smile slipped from my face. ‘James--’

  ‘Look, the only game Morey’s taught him is chess.’ James spread out his hands. ‘Like that’s going to impress the ladies.’

  ‘Jago won’t need any help in that department,’ I said. The gryphon’s grey feathers shimmered with blues and greens in the afternoon sun. The fur on his fox hindquarters shifted between grey and purple. Taryn had once told me that griffwn glas, the name for Jago’s colouration, were considered to be the most beautiful of all gryphons. I had to agree with that opinion.

  We walked over to the waiting dragons. Morey and Taryn were perched on Raven’s neck. ‘I’m going back to England,’ I told them. ‘If that’s okay with you, Raven?’