Page 16 of Gryphon’s Fire

“That is good,” Helios answered with a firm nod. “Aurelia and Peaches have informed me why my actions were not seen in a positive light.”

My eyebrows shot to the sky. That was a rather interesting viewpoint. Still, I didn’t think it wise to argue that Helios’s actions had been a bit more negative than that. Though millennia old, djinn were sometimes akin to children in their naïveté. A djinn learning to think and make decisions on their own—without being told what to do and with nearly limitless power—was a dangerous creature indeed.

Instead of arguing, I answered, “I’m glad you have others to ask questions and guide you.”

“Yes, well… Aurelia has had free will longer than I and Peaches is an…interesting master.” Helios sounded just as confounded now as he had the first time I met him. Helios really didn’t know what to make of a master like Peaches. While I’d only spoken to the nature pixie a couple of times, it was clear that Peaches had no interest in holding that type of power over anyone.

I was still uncertain if Peaches was a fool or wise beyond his years. Considering all djinn managed to murder their masters eventually, time would certainly tell. Given that the pixie was still alive and had Helios considering that he might not be so bad—or at least he was more interesting than previous masters—was probably a good start.

“I have wanted to check in on Jima,” Helios said. “But I did not think my presence would be desired.” Helios rubbed the fabric over his heart, as if that thought truly bothered him. “I considered visiting but keeping my presence unknown, but Aurelia said mortals do not appreciate that, and it is important to conform to some of mortals’ silly ideals.”

I didn’t think privacy was that silly. Then again, I was one of the mortals Helios was speaking of. “That is very insightful and respectful,” I replied.

Helios’s lips pulled back before settling into a pout. “It is very tedious.”

I fought my grin. “I won’t argue that.”

If Helios’s widened eyes were anything to go by, I’d caught him off guard with my honesty. Settling back into an impassive, impossible-to-read visage, Helios’s voice grew cold again when he said, “I expect Jima to remain unharmed. I would be very upset should I learn otherwise.”

Before I had a chance to respond, Helios was gone. I’d learned that djinn were like that. Here one moment and gone the next between the space of a blink of the eye.

My breath escaped in a harsh exhale, making me realize I’d been holding that breath at bay for far too long. Shaky fatigue filled me as my adrenaline faded. Making my way to a nearby chair, I fairly collapsed into it. My shaking had barely subsided when I heard Lazarus’s knock followed by the door opening before I could offer an invite. Our borrowed pixie magic understood my needs.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought a few of my… What has happened?” Lazarus was immediately by my side, tossing a few clothing items on the coffee table before kneeling in front of me. His eyes immediately tracked to Vidia’s eggs before craning backwards and checking on Eldon.

“They’re fine,” I said. “Or as fine as they were when you left.”

“But you are not. Did someone call or⁠—”

“Oh, someone came calling, but it wasn’t the phone version.” I gave Lazarus an abbreviated version of the last few moments. He remained surprisingly calm. “I guess the barrier doesn’t work on Helios.”

Moving, Lazarus sat on the clothing-filled coffee table. “Perhaps or perhaps not. Your conversation with Helios was surprisingly cordial and filled with…concern for a certain ferret shifter.”

“I don’t like how fixated Helios is on Jima.”

“Neither do I, but at least that fixation seems to revolve around Jima’s safety. The situation could be worse.”

“Goddess, you did not just say that. Please tell me you didn’t say that.” I groaned. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to say shit like that? Saying a situation could be worse is like inviting it to become so.”

Lazarus grinned wide enough to show teeth. “I did not realize you were so superstitious.”

“It’s called not inviting poor Karma to your door.” As if on cue, Eldon moaned, his eyes fluttering before opening. An accompanying panicked gasp filled the air.

I gave Lazarus a meaningful glare before standing. Not wanting to loom over my obviously traumatized brother, I kneeled on the ground beside the couch and cautiously said, “It’s me, Eldon. It’s Keir. You’re safe.”

Eldon sucked in a breath. Some of his immediate panic faded, but his eyes were still wary as they darted around the room. His hands shook as he clasped the quilt, pulling it up to his neck. “I-I—” Eldon started coughing.

“I’ll get some water,” Lazarus offered before I could ask.

Eldon’s eyes widened again when he caught sight of Lazarus. “It’s okay. He’s a friend. Lazarus won’t hurt you.” I raked my fingers through Eldon’s oily hair. My feelings told me Lazarus was so much more than a mere friend. But now wasn’t the time. I wasn’t certain when the time would be, but it certainly wasn’t now.

Lazarus appeared by my side, a glass of water in his hand. “Perhaps we should help Eldon sit up before offering the water.”

“Good idea.” I stood and slowly placed my hands under Eldon’s armpits, hefting his diminished frame until he was propped up on the pillow Lazarus shoved behind him. I valiantly ignored the moans and groans my actions elicited. I could tell Eldon was desperately trying to hold back his agony.

Heavily panting, Eldon’s eyes slipped closed again, his limbs even shakier than they were before. I gave my brother a minute before lifting the water to his lips. “Can you manage, or do you want me to help?”

“I c-can do it.” Eldon’s quaking fingers didn’t give me a lot of confidence, but he took the glass. Although the liquid within jostled to and fro, Eldon managed to get most of it in his mouth and down his throat. His gulps became increasingly strong, and soon all the water was gone and Eldon was forlornly staring at the empty glass.