Chương 34

No. It's not possible.

"Stop the carriage," Noah said, his voice suddenly flat.

"What?"

"Stop the carriage!" he shouted. Davan yanked on the reins, bringing the dray beasts to a gradual halt. They hadn't even fully stopped before Noah leapt off the bench and sprinted toward the small burned-out grove. The sight that met him there would stay with him forever. A few coins in a glass jar — their faces melted by fire, but unmistakably not Tenebraean. A wristwatch with a shattered face. A metal lighter. A broken zipper. A charred leather wallet with melted plastic cards.

Things that could only have come from Earth.

"No. No no no…" Noah whispered, sinking to his knees.

"He can't… it can't…" His analytical mind, merciless as ever, assembled the facts whether he wanted it to or not. Lucien came through the portal. He left with Hannah on her ship. She sent him to Crownspire with the Crimson Wyvern. And then— He was killed.

"Noah?" Ciri's voice called from behind him. He stood and turned. She was only a few feet away, hood thrown back, pink hair whipping in the wind. Their eyes met — his full of grief and fury — and he pushed past her, storming toward the carriage as it rolled to a stop.

"What happened?" Noah demanded.

"B-bandits," Davan stammered, paling at the look on Noah's face.

"How do you know?"

"A guard patrol found the wreck. Fire was still burning. They pulled the bodies out and… well…" He trailed off.

"Fuck!" Noah roared, spinning back toward the grave site.

"Noah!" Ciri called, but he ignored her, pushing past again. He stopped at the stake once more. Anger, grief, and helplessness surged through him as he stared at the few remaining pieces of his brother's life. His thoughts turned cruel. You always knew this was a possibility. Tears streamed down his face, hot and uncontrollable. The voices of Davan, Ciri, and Ken faded into a distant ringing. He swayed, then crouched, gathering the items with shaking hands and stuffing them into his pocket.

When he turned, Ciri was watching him intently.

"You believe Lucien was killed here." A statement, not a question.

"Yeah." His voice was hollow.

"Noah, I am—""Leave me here," he said, unable to meet her eyes.

"No." Her tone was firm.

"This area is unsafe. And you are clearly in extreme emotional distress, which makes you prone to irrational decisions."

"So what?" Noah snapped.

"Let me make irrational decisions. Let me—" His voice cracked.

"Let you what?" Ciri asked softly, stepping closer. He clenched his jaw, inhaled shakily, and finished in a whisper.

"Let me say goodbye. Alone."

"Of course." Her voice gentled.

"We will wait in the carriage. I will not allow harm to come to you while you grieve." She paused, then whispered, "Velæn." She turned and walked back to the others. Noah watched her go before sinking to the ground, unable to stand any longer. He closed his eyes, crossed his legs, and leaned forward as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

"I followed you," he whispered in English — the first time he'd spoken it in what felt like forever.

"All the way to another world. You didn't show up at that stupid pizza place, and I knew something was wrong. Everyone said it was just you being you, but I knew. You wouldn't miss it unless something was wrong." He placed a hand on the grass beside the stake.

"I'm sorry. If we'd stayed closer… maybe I would've come sooner. Maybe I could've found you before this. Maybe you'd still be alive." His voice broke.

"I should've been a better brother. Things were never the same after Mom and Dad, but that's not an excuse. I should've been better." Great, shuddering sobs wracked his body. Memories flashed — childhood moments, their parents before the accident, cheap pizza in their hometown. He shook and screamed wordlessly, furious at the injustice of it all. I came so close. Eventually, he felt Ciri approach. She didn't speak. She simply sat behind him and pressed her back to his.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. After a long silence, Noah wiped his face on his sleeve.

"What?"

"I want you to express your emotions to me," she said quietly.

"But I understand it is difficult when someone is looking at you. So I am looking the other way." Mom's trick, Noah thought.

"I don't…really want to talk about my emotions right now."

"Then I will respect that. For now. But I believe it would be unhealthy to keep them inside."

"Probably."

"I must also inform you that if we do not leave soon, night will fall before we reach Crownspire. That would expose us to additional dangers. If you prefer, we can return to Braemont and stay the night. That would allow you more time here." Even through the grief, guilt pricked at him.

"No." He shook his head and pushed himself to his feet.

"Let's…go to Crownspire."

"We can return another time," Ciri said, rising as well.

"I do not know your funeral traditions, but if you wish to adorn his grave or move his remains, I will help you."

"I'll think about it," Noah said.

"I don't know what Lucien would've wanted, but I'll figure something out."

"I understand if you want to stay," she said, meeting his eyes.

"My care for you exceeds my desire to complete my quest quickly. If you are uncertain, we can return to Braemont."

"No. Let's go to Crownspire. Lucien wouldn't want me moping by his graveside anyway."

"As you wish." She turned and led him toward the carriage. In his grief, Noah didn't notice that she didn't reach for his hand the way she usually did, nor the way both Ken and Davan were staring at him. He paused only long enough to grab his crossbow from the front before moving to the back of the carriage as Ciri climbed inside. He began pawing through their luggage, searching for his bag so he could secure the weapon and his brother's personal effects safely.

If someone attacks us, Ciri and Ken can handle it, he thought as he pulled the bag free. I just want to sleep. I just want to… His thoughts trailed off when he heard a soft, wavering cry — an animal's cry. He frowned, set his bag on the ground, and turned slowly, searching for the source. Only after a full turn did he realize the sound was coming from directly in front of him. From inside his bag. The griffon egg. He tore open the straps holding the top closed.

The egg he'd carried for months had shattered from the inside. Nestled among the broken pieces was a tiny creature, yowling weakly. Its avian eyes were still shut tight, its pink tongue lolling from its beak. A layer of fuzz covered the front half of its body and wings, blending into fur along its back and yellow skin down its foreclaws. Its long tail flicked, and its tiny feline claws flexed instinctively against the nest of clothes Noah had made. The griffon I saw before was white and tan. He furrowed his brow.

This one is all black. From beak to tail. Without thinking, Noah reached forward to wipe some of the amniotic fluid from its matted fur. The creature cried out and nipped him gently. He pulled his hand back, checking for broken skin, then shook his head. This thing looks more like a wet sock than a scary monster.

"It's okay," he murmured, dropping his voice into the soothing register he used with animals. The hatchling cried again.

"I know you didn't mean to." The creature struggled to open its eyes. For a moment, Noah caught a flash of green irises before they closed again. It cried, tried to lift its head, then toppled forward into the remnants of its shell.

"Let's clear those away for you," Noah said softly, carefully removing the shards.

"I don't want you hurting yourself." It was slow work, but when he finished, his hand brushed the creature's fur and found it shivering. Instinctively, he cupped his hands around its tiny form and lifted it.

"I've got you, little guy," he whispered — then corrected himself as it rolled in his palms.

"Oops. Sorry. Little girl." Without thinking about claws or beaks, Noah brought the hatchling to his chest. Seeing her still shivering, he unbuttoned the top of his shirt and pressed her gently against his skin, right above his heart. She stopped yowling immediately, nuzzling into him with a soft, vibrating purr.

"You like skin-to-skin, huh?" he murmured.

"Okay. You can stay there for a bit."

"Noah?" Ciri's uncertain voice came from behind him.

"The…uh…griffon hatched," he said without turning.

"Oh. Oh!" She reached for her notepad.

"Where is it?"

"It's…napping on me," he said, turning slowly. Her eyes widened at the sight of the tiny black form curled against his chest.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. I don't think she could hurt me even if she tried. She's pretty weak right now." He hesitated.

"I know I said I'd release her once she hatched, but… I can't do that yet. Not until she can fend for herself. If I let her go now, she'd just get eaten. Carrying her all this time would've been pointless." Ciri nodded.

"An understandable point."

"We should get in the carriage. Baby animals get cold easily." She nodded again and climbed inside. Noah followed, holding the hatchling carefully as he settled onto the leather bench. Ken's eyebrows shot up, his gaze flicking between Noah, the griffon, and Ciri.

"The griffon egg hatched," Ciri said, already sketching.

"I see that."

"It is black," she noted.

"I have neither heard of nor seen nor read about a black griffon."

"Me neither." Davan climbed back onto the driver's bench and whistled, setting the dray beasts in motion. Noah looked down at the sleeping creature.

"So that's unusual, then? The coloring?"

"Truthfully, I do not know," Ciri admitted.

"Griffon biology was not extensively covered in the ancient texts. Most of what remains are warnings — how to avoid them or kill them if necessary." Her last words made Noah's jaw tighten.

"We're not killing this one."

"I was not suggesting that," she said quickly, hurt. Noah exhaled.

"Sorry. I'm…a little raw right now."

"Understandably," Ken said.

"Perhaps this griffon is Danu, Dôn, and Anu giving you a chance." Noah raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you do not believe in our gods," Ken said gently, "but they teach that grief can numb a person completely. It can take life away even before death. Danu, Dôn, and Anu have given you a new life to care for." He gestured to the hatchling.

"Perhaps in doing so, you will find life for yourself again."

"I'm just caring for her until she's big enough to set free," Noah countered.

"Of course. My mistake," Ken said, a knowing twinkle in his eye. Noah fell silent, leaning back as the events of the last hour replayed in his mind. Grief rose again — but before it could overwhelm him, the hatchling stirred and clawed weakly at his chest. She's probably hungry, he realized. He looked at Ciri.

"What do baby griffons eat?"

"I…do not know," she admitted. She's part lion, Noah reasoned. Lions drink milk. But she's also part bird… and birds… His face twisted. Please don't let it be pre-chewed food.

"Are there any dairy farms between here and Crownspire?" he asked.

"I saw some farms on the way out of the city."

"It is likely," Ciri said.

"Davan might know." Noah leaned out the window.

"Davan! Any dairy farms between here and Crownspire?"

"One! About twenty minutes from here!"

"I'll give you ten extra gold if you get us there fast and make a stop!"

"Happy to!" Davan shouted, whistling sharply. Hang on, little girl, Noah thought, looking down at the yowling hatchling. I'm going to get you something to eat.