The Marriage of Gryphons Read online

  ‘It’s out of date.’ Then a thought struck me, and my breath caught in my throat. ‘All of their productions?’

  ‘All of them, they have tight budgets. Just like me.’ She pushed her rimless glasses back from her nose. ‘It’s not important. No one’s going to notice.’

  I had to swallow to bring moisture back into my mouth. ‘I’ll get you a Common Worship book. That brings you up to date.’

  Laura waved a hand. ‘All right, let’s make a trade.’ She took the ASB and pressed it into my hands. ‘I’m sure the BBC would prefer to keep vicars happy.’

  I hurried back to the car, lowered the ASB slowly and reverently into the boot, and brought back my own copy of Common Worship. Then I drove home, making my turns carefully, well aware of the precious object which my Ford now carried. Well, beyond one female priest and a small gryphon.

  <><><><><><>

  James had made himself scarce and Morey stayed in the study, catching up on Neighbours with Clyde at his side. I forced myself not to fret that the gryphon’s fascination with Australian soap operas had rubbed off on the young snail shark, and instead paid attention to the handsome man enjoying the evening meal which I’d cooked for him. We’d been dating for eight months now, so I knew Peter well enough to offer nothing more exotic than chilli on rice, albeit accompanied by a very nice Châteauneuf-du-Pape. I’d even splashed out for one of the better years.

  It was only after all the dishes had been cleared that I retrieved the ASB from the lounge. ‘Here it is,’ I told him as I handed over the heavy volume. ‘The director said BBC Wales use it in all of their TV series. It must be the one.’

  Peter laid the book onto the table. ‘Are you sure? Can it really be the one from The Family of Blood?’

  ‘I’m certain.’ I touched the cover. ‘Just think, this was only a few feet away from David Tennant.’

  ‘Wonderful Doctor Who episode.’ Peter very carefully held his wine glass away from the book as he took a sip. ‘Although the Virgin New Adventures novel was better.’

  ‘You’re only saying that,’ I teased him, ‘because you know that Sylvester McCoy is my favourite Doctor.’

  ‘Maybe.’ The lines around his eyes only made him look distinguished, and there wasn’t that much grey in his dark hair. ‘I guess there’s no way to find out for certain?’

  ‘Not really.’ I coughed. ‘The director allowed me to trade for it. But the BCC might want it back if they realised I had a real, actual prop. I’m certain it could fetch good money on eBay.’

  ‘My dear vicar,’ Peter said, ‘this seems rather unethical of you.’

  ‘It’s only human nature.’

  And he laughed as he caught the reference. ‘Well, I’m off duty. I feel no need to arrest you.’

  We exchanged views about a recent Star Trek fan production while he switched to orange juice and I poured myself some more wine. Then I walked him to the door. ‘Sorry, I know it’s still early,’ he apologised. ‘But like I said, I have to go to Birmingham tomorrow. I’m getting up at the crack of dawn to catch my train.’

  ‘That’s fine.’ I picked his coat off the bannister and handed it to him. ‘See you Saturday?’

  ‘Certainly.’ He bent down to kiss me on the lips. This was still a rather recent development in our relationship, and I held him close to savour it. Then he was gone into the chilly February evening. I returned the ASB to the display cabinet. Then I poured myself another glass of red wine, popped the DVD of Family of Blood into my TV, and took a seat to watch Martha convince the Tenth Doctor that he had to accept his destiny.

  Chapter Two

  I was still in my pyjamas, leading Morey and Clyde through Morning Prayer, when the phone rang. ‘You’ll want to answer that,’ Morey told me.

  ‘It’s my day off,’ I grumbled. ‘I don’t answer the phone on my day off.’

  ‘It’s your bishop’s chaplain.’

  I picked up the phone. ‘Hello, Sally.’

  ‘And how does he do that?’ she responded. ‘How does Morey always know who’s ringing you?’

  I glanced at the gryphon. ‘He did try to explain, but I got lost when he started quoting Aristotle. In Greek. Please remember that he can hear whatever you say to me.’

  Sally laughed. ‘No secrets from your Associate, then. And how is that churchwarden of yours?’

  ‘It’s a nice day,’ I complained. ‘Don’t ruin it for me.’

  ‘Point taken. But I'm not phoning about her.’ I could hear a rustle of papers. ‘Do you know a dragon called Hrafn Eydisson?’

  The sound of Raven’s Welsh name sent a mixture of guilt, desire, and disappointment churning through my stomach. ‘Yes,’ I said carefully. ‘Why?’

  ‘We’ve had an approach from an Eydis Asgersdottir. Is that his mother, do you think?’

  ‘Dragons seem to follow the custom of naming children after their mother,’ I replied. There was no need to let Sally know that I’d actually met Raven’s mother. And had only been allowed to leave the matriarch’s longhouse because Eydis had decided that I was too thin to be worth eating. ‘She didn’t fly over from Lloegyr, did she?’

  ‘No, she sent a rat.’ Sally chuckled. ‘Of course, he delivered the message in rhyme, so I’ll just give you the summary. This Hrafn has gone missing, and Eydis wanted to know if he’d been seen in our diocese.’

  I didn’t dare look at Morey. ‘Why does she think he might have come here?’

  ‘Penny,’ Sally admonished gently, ‘there are people with the Sight in Northampton. We’ve had reports of a green-black dragon flying over the A45.’

  There was a carefully timed silence, into which I did not speak. Then Sally continued, ‘Eydis would like to meet with you.’

  Dreading another silence, I said quickly, ‘Only on neutral ground. We know that dragons don’t value human lives. I sometimes wonder if James will ever get over seeing Miranda killed in front of him.’

  My comment successfully shifted Sally into pastoral mode. ‘But not all dragons are like that. Bishop Aeron is lovely.’

  ‘I’d still rather be careful. Maybe we could meet in Nenehampton Cathedral? If Angelica doesn’t mind.’

  ‘I could ask the Dean,’ Sally agreed. ‘And maybe arrange a couple of unicorns to ensure the peace.’

  I winced so hard that I nearly dropped the phone. ‘Not some heddlu?’

  ‘You know that dragons have more respect for unicorns than for elves.’

  Possibly because so many dragons served in the Lloegyr police force, I reflected. They knew their elven partners weren’t perfect. But everyone seemed to think that unicorns were beyond reproach. I wished I hadn’t discovered otherwise. ‘Okay. Can you make the arrangements? I’m free next week on Monday afternoon and on Thursday morning.’

  ‘Great. I’ll send a rat to Eydis and call Angelica.’

  We exchanged some observations about the new baptism liturgy and I hung up. Morey’s feathers were ruffled when I finally looked at him. ‘All right, Black, give,’ he snapped. ‘What is it with you and unicorns? What happened when you met with the Archdruid?’

  Clyde made a mournful sound. I found myself reaching out to stroke the snail shark’s shell. Blue and purple pulsed through his grey-brown body as he said, ‘Bad. Sad. Very bad. Very sad.’

  ‘Maybe for snail sharks,’ I said. ‘Can we get back to saying Psalm 41 now? I’d like to finish Morning Prayer before lunch.’

  Morey rose from his haunches and strode over to me. ‘Come along, Penny. You downed a bottle of cheap merlot that evening, so it must have been very bad. What did the Archdruid do to you?’

  ‘“Who so beset him round, with dismal stories,’ Clyde sang softly, ‘“Do but themselves confound, his strength the more is.”’

  I took a deep breath. ‘She tried to convince me to kill myself.’

  ‘Because Susie told Wiseman Agricultural about the unicorn lands?’

  ‘The Archdruid said I was responsible, since I’d promised Susie would keep quiet.’r />
  ‘And how did the unicorn try to persuade you to commit suicide?’

  I glanced down at his head and countered, ‘Why did Taryn shred your ear when she asked you to marry her? Is it because of Seren?’

  ‘My previous marriage to a were-fox isn’t the issue,’ Morey answered calmly. ‘Both of our clans aren’t happy that we’re Christians. We’ll have to prove ourselves worthy of marriage to each other. My ear is only the first test.’

  He tapped his beak against my thumb. ‘Now, give. What did the Archdruid do? And why is Clyde now singing “The Sound of Silence”?’

  ‘He sounds nothing like Simon and Garfunkel.’

  Morey cocked his head. ‘I think he’s doing the version by Disturbed. Black, talk, or I’ll bite your ear.’

  ‘They were speaking the truth, that was the problem,’ I found myself saying. ‘You, Peter, James, everyone. Well, images of you, from my own mind. You all went on about my failures as a priest and a friend.’

  ‘The truth?’ Morey asked. ‘Or what you fear to be the truth?’

  I shrugged. ‘At that moment, it didn’t matter.’

  ‘And what stopped you? Raven?’

  ‘No.’ And once again the dragon’s failure burned like a young whisky in my throat. ‘Not Raven. Clyde saved me.’

  ‘Good boy, Clyde.’ Morey’s tail flicked against the snail’s grey shell. ‘I always warned you about that dragon.’

  ‘Who’s gone missing,’ I pointed out. ‘Though why that matters to his mother is beyond me. She tried to kill him the moment he was born.’

  ‘Don’t you mean “hatched”?’

  I blinked at this rare moment of knowing something that Morey didn’t. ‘Seems search dragons are live born, not laid as eggs. And regular dragons hate them. So I don’t understand why she would care what’s happened to him now.’

  Morey’s red-brown eyes locked with mine. ‘The question is, do you care what’s happened to him?’

  ‘He wouldn’t say…’ I swallowed hard. ‘All he had to do was say that he cared about me. And Raven couldn’t even go that far.’

  “’Even my bosom friend in whom I trusted, who ate of my bread, has lifted the heel against me.’”

  ‘Where’s that from?’

  ‘Psalm 41. Which we were reading before the phone interrupted us.’ Morey walked back across the desk, his claws picking out new marks in the unvarnished pine. ‘Come on, let’s finish Morning Prayer and then have a cup of tea.’

  ‘Because it’s too early for whisky.’

  ‘Because it’s too early for whisky,’ Morey agreed. And we sighed in unison.

  ‘Whisky,’ Clyde repeated wistfully. After a rather disastrous experiment, Morey had determined that snail sharks and large portions of spirits were not biologically suited for each other. That didn’t stop the snail from hoping, though.

  Prayers said, tea made, the three of us sat at the kitchen table and tucked into biscuits. Well, the other two rested on the table, which meant they were quicker than me at grabbing Jammie Dodgers.

  ‘Does Peter know? About the Archdruid?’ Morey asked. I shook my head. ‘What about James?’

  My head shake was even more emphatic. ‘James has enough to worry about.’

  As if someone had summoned him, James’ voice was suddenly echoing through the hallway. ‘Hey peeps!’ The front door slammed shut. ‘Any coffee on?’

  ‘There’s a pot of tea,’ I called back.

  My brother strode into the kitchen. As he passed the table, he swiped the last biscuit, which gained him a growl from Morey and a baring of teeth from Clyde. There was a definite swagger in his stride as he marched over to the teapot.

  ‘You’ve had a good night,’ Morey stated.

  ‘That I did, Morey mate.’ James grinned. ‘My luck has finally changed.’

  The gryphon cocked his head. ‘And do you know this one’s name? Or were you too busy to ask?’

  ‘Debbie,’ James announced to the universe. ‘Her name is Debbie, she’s twenty-three, and she’s a real goer.’

  ‘Good for you,’ Morey muttered. ‘And in the meantime, your sister is going to meet--’

  ‘With a shower and a toothbrush,’ I interrupted. I threw the gryphon a warning look. ‘Peter’s coming by in twenty minutes. You boys behave yourselves while I'm gone.’

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  ‘You’re being very quiet.’

  I looked up from my fish and chips into Peter’s blue-grey eyes. Around us conversations were swirling and cutlery clattering as people enjoyed their pub lunch. My fork had done little more than push batter around my plate. ‘Sorry. Made the mistake of answering the phone this morning.’

  ‘On your day off?’ he teased. ‘Isn’t that what answering machines are for? Letting vicars escape once in awhile?’ Then all merriment dropped from his face. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, was it bad news? Has someone died?’

  ‘Nothing like that.’ I couldn’t tell him about my experience with the Archdruid without telling him about Raven. And there was no way I could tell Peter about Raven. ‘Did you know that Taryn has asked Morey to marry her?’

  Peter grimaced. ‘Yes. She came back to the house with his blood smeared all along her beak.’

  ‘I thought she always cleaned up before coming inside.’

  ‘She said it was part of my role as one of Morey’s--’ He stopped, his gaze sliding off mine as he concentrated to remember. ‘As one of Morey’s cefnogwyr, that’s the phrase she used. As one of his cefnogwyr, it was my job to clean her up afterwards.’

  ‘One of Morey’s supporters?’ At Peter’s look of surprise, I reminded him, ‘I’m having intensive Welsh lessons. Three times a week. So I can work better with beings from Lloegyr.’

  ‘Well, it seems to be working.’ He took a sip of his beer. ‘I asked her what she meant by that, but she wouldn’t say. My Associate can be very tight-lipped.’

  ‘Or tight-beaked,’ I corrected absently. ‘I need to open a nice bottle of red and see what I can get out of Morey.’

  ‘What if they do get married?’ Peter wondered. ‘Does that mean we’ll need new Associates?’

  From his frown, I could see that the idea was as unwelcome to him as it was to me. ‘I thought you weren’t that close to Taryn.’

  ‘Not like you and Morey. But I’d miss having her swoop around the house.’

  ‘And killing rabbits in your back garden.’ Suddenly I lost what little remained of my appetite, and I pushed my plate away. The beer, however, was a lovely chocolate stout at just the right temperature. I took a deep, appreciative swallow. ‘By the way, I have a colony of vampires living in my church.’

  ‘You’re sure they’re vampires?’

  ‘Yes. I spoke to their magister.’ I leaned forward, dropping my voice further. ‘Are colonies moving into other buildings, do you know?’

  ‘Yes,’ Peter confirmed quietly. ‘It’s easy to find out when a colony moves into an area. Farmers report that their animals are experiencing sudden blood loss.’ He sighed. ‘There seems to be quite an exodus going on. Many colonies have left Lloegyr.’

  ‘The magister told me that bad times are coming.’ I discovered that I’d started shredding a beer mat, and I dropped the remaining pieces. ‘What have you heard?’

  ‘Not much,’ Peter admitted. ‘But we know that there are tensions in Lloegyr, particularly in their cities. All those different species, now living together in close proximity. Dragons and unicorns and harpies and the rest, with all their conflicting cultures. Think of how we humans struggle over much more simple differences like religion or race.’

  And Peter should know, I reflected. I had always thought that he simply tanned easily, but at Christmas I had discovered that his parents had different skin colours. ‘But why should vampires be the ones to emigrate?’

  ‘Because they can pass for human so long as they don’t smile?’

  ‘And they can probably work alongside humans,’ I mused. ‘Since daylight only makes them weak, not dead. I
hate finding out that Buffy got things wrong.’

  ‘It’s like wondering why, if Susan came up with the name TARDIS, all the other Time Lords use it as well.’ Peter patted my hand. ‘Blame it on the producers. They should have got their facts straight.’ He stood up. ‘Another beer?’

  I stared at my nearly empty pint of stout, then shrugged off temptation. ‘I’d better not. I have to catch an early train to London tomorrow.’

  ‘Then we’d better make sure we don’t have too much Talisker tonight,’ he teased. ‘Leave some whisky in the bottle for another day.’

  We walked out into a cold but bright afternoon. The waters of the canal were still, and some ducks huddled on the tow path. A group of vampires stood near the museum, their shoulders hunched against the sunlight. I pointed them out to Peter. ‘Another colony.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, there’s that haze around them, like weres.’ I looked up at him. ‘Can’t you see it?’

  ‘Nope. I guess you must be more sensitive to it than me. I wonder how many vampires I’ve walked past without knowing.’

  A chill ran through my chest, and I zipped up my coat. ‘Do you really think that Lloegyr might fall apart? Like Syria, or Iraq?’

  ‘Let’s hope not.’ His arm circled around my waist, and I allowed him to pull me in close. ‘Come on. Day off. Let’s talk about the new Star Trek film and buy some food for the ducks.’

  I nodded. But as we passed the vampires, I wondered whether we were seeing just a few migrants, or whether this would be the start of a mass invasion of churches. I might be having many more discussions with magisters about required behaviour in old English buildings.

  Chapter Three

  ‘I don’t like the look of this,’ I told Morey, dropping the stained bandages onto the kitchen floor. ‘Your ear doesn’t look to be healing properly.’

  ‘It hurts like hell,’ he agreed, lifting a forefoot to push at the swollen wound.

  I bit my lip. ‘Even if I could get you some antibiotics, I’m not certain what dose you’d need.’