Page 2 of Gryphon’s Fire

Laughter erupted from deep within my chest, throwing my head back and bubbling up with a force I hadn’t felt in months. “No?”

“No.” Elvira was very firm.

“Then how, pray tell, do you communicate with Martin?” As far as I knew, Elvira couldn’t use electronic devices. Her ghostly form sucked all the energy from them, leaving cell phones little more than paperweights.

“Martin and I have worked out a system. To be fair, Grayson was the one who thought of it.”

“And that would be?”

“I am able to manipulate the lights without fully manifesting. If the lights are on, I turn them off. If the opposite is true, I turn them on. If this is ineffective, then I rapidly flash the lights.” Elvira’s tone made me think she derived pleasure from the latter. “It has proved most effective. Martin is to come—fully clothed—to the door, and I will be waiting in the hall.”

“Ah, that does sound prudent.”

“As I said, it has proved effective so far.”

“Hmm.” My mind wandered to another, more minuscule resident. “And Henry? He tends to pop out of crevices within the wall now and again with no warning. I wonder how he’s coping with the changed situation?”

Elvira scoffed. “I doubt Henry would find such things unpalatable. In fact, I suspect just the opposite. The little house dweller is far from prudish. One might even accuse him of being voyeuristic.”

I didn’t necessarily disagree. Most likely there were times Henry was about and none of us were aware. When you were only four to five inches tall and wily as a cat, there were a lot of places to hide.

Pushing thoughts of Martin and Grayson’s more intimate activities along with their impact on the members of the Magical Usage Council aside, I asked, “Did Eddy have any problems?”

Elvira shook her head. “Not that I know of, but I only stayed for a brief time. I am certain Martin will seek you out when he is finished. I suspect that will be some time from now as there is much Martin needs to convey.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, vaguely realizing I could use a trim. “Since Martin is speaking with her, I assume Eddy had no problem getting through the barrier.”

“You assume correctly.” Elvira’s head tilted to the side, as if she were listening to something or someone. I’d seen her do that innumerable times and understood the reaction to mean Tabitha was speaking with her.

With a heavy eyeroll, Elvira’s lips twitched before settling back into their typical impersonal line. Elvira didn’t illuminate the cause of her earlier reaction and I didn’t ask. The relationship between a medium and the dearly departed was oddly intimate.

Eyes losing their distant gleam, Elvira’s attention snapped back into place. “I will seek out Lazarus and find out what I can.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your willingness to help.” Those words were heartfelt.

“As with your concern, your gratitude is unnecessary but welcome.”

Elvira vanished with those parting words, leaving me alone with Vidia’s eggs. Alone. When had I gotten used to that state of being? When had I begun to find comfort in solitude and when had that same comfort transformed into complacency?

But was it really such a wonder that I relished my hard-won privacy? If my friends and colleagues understood where I’d come from—the pressures my family had placed on my shoulders—they would understand the peace I found in solitude.

Ironic how I’d run from the crushing weight of responsibility only to have a much heavier burden thrust upon me. Had the Goddess favored me when I’d survived Huxley’s purge? Or was it punishment for turning my back on my family and species all those years ago?

Easing back into my chair, I laid my hands on my lap, interlacing my fingers as my gaze once more fixated on the glowing coals cradling Vidia’s infantile young. Truly, the eggs were beyond beautiful. My mind wandered, becoming lost in the eggs’ glory. I didn’t fight their pull. I went willingly, comforted by the reprieve their brilliance offered, soothing my mind, body, and soul.

Two

Lazarus

Heat. Blessed, comforting, healing, heat.

I curled deeper into myself as the warmth of the earth seeped through my damaged skin and scales, easing the pain Verona’s and Axios’s acidic venom had inflicted on my body. Whatever the damage, my sacrifice was worth it. I would have willingly died to protect my sister’s eggs from the wyvern who’d slaughtered her. And yet, my death would not have saved Vidia’s young.

That knowledge was more than a blow to my ego; it damaged my very nature. I’d been unable to protect and save my sister. I’d been nearly as useless to her offspring.

I could not—and would not—lie to myself. My actions had bought time. Those same actions had not saved the day. I doubted any single wyvern could have done better. That should have made me feel better. Sadly, it did not.

If it weren’t for the remaining members of the Magical Usage Council, the outcome would have been very different. It was difficult wrapping my mind around their combined sacrifices. All of them willing to place themselves at risk, to court death, to save two infantile wyvern who could have been their ultimate downfall.