Page 48 of The Beauty and the Griffin

Darkness seemed to drop over me, and I blurted, “No, I cannot!”

The next thing I knew, I stood just inside the door of my guest room, my mind and heart in turmoil. Through a film of tears, I saw shimmering light and recognized my gold egg. Immediately, my racing heart slowed. With a relieved sigh, I climbed onto the bed and gently stroked her shell. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered.

Sparkles like miniature fireworks followed my touch.Chicky love Beeetrice.

“Chicky?”

Beeetrice name Chicky.

“I did?” Realization dawned. “Oh. I’ve been calling you Chicky, haven’t I? Well, the name suits you. You are my sweet little Chicky.” Somehow, the company of a not-yet-hatched baby griffin was exactly what I needed. “I’ll be back soon. I need to wash and dress for bed.”

Chicky was asleep before I reached the bathroom, which was old-fashioned yet pristine, again reminding me of the one in Niel’s palace . . . but one historic palace is much like another. Anyway, this place must have a library, and with any luck it would supply me with information about griffins. I really should have asked the Gamekeeper about that.

It wasn’t easy to hurry through my bath, but if I hadn’t, I’d likely have drowned in my sleep. The towels were like warm clouds. After stinking for the past few days, or however long it’d been, I couldn’t resist slathering on some gorgeously scented body oil. And the frothy negligee and satin nightie draped over a gilded chair . . . well . . . They fit perfectly. My wet hair combed out easily, and I wove it into a thick braid.

Everything I’d seen and done since Auntie sent me to Faraway Castle felt like a dream. Well, Winifred was more like a nightmare, but the eggs were lovely. Niel was a fantasy I could only wish to be true.

And the Gamekeeper? I simply did not know what to think, so I didn’t.

I folded down the duvet and climbed into bed, gave my egg a quarter-turn, then pulled her close again, feeling her delight. I couldn’t possibly have been more comfortable.

Chicky hatch soon.

“You . . . you will?” I mumbled, not entirely certain the voice in my head wasn’t another dream.

Her shell swirled and shimmered with anticipation and, just like that, she was asleep again.

I sat bolt upright in bed, blinking and disoriented. What was that noise?

Silence. Chicky slept soundly amid the fluffy white feathers of the . . . Was it a stole or a boa? I sensed no servants nearby. But a fire crackled on the hearth, so at least one maid must have come.

I yawned, gave my head a shake, and only then realized that light filled the room. Someone had opened my bed curtains and the window draperies. Just as I moved to climb out of bed, a shriek shattered the peace, followed by a thump, a bang, pounding footsteps in the hallway, and the rattle of my doorknob. “Beatrice!” Win battered the door. “He’s hatching! He’s hatching!”

As soon as my feet hit the floor, I snatched up the lace negligee and flung it on over my nightgown, then hurried to admit her. Wild-eyed, wild-haired, and yammering “Whaddoo I do? Oh, help!” Win thrust her unwrapped egg into my bare arms. At my touch, its soft glow flared into silvery spots and swirls of light.

Wow! Her egg seemed to have doubled in size and weight overnight, and its shell was hard, not rubbery anymore. I cradled it in the crook of my arm and felt the baby inside shift his position, trying to nestle against me. He was more introverted than his sister, but he seemed to crave my wordless affection . . . and he returned it.

“Why do you think he’s hatching?” I asked.

Win pointed at a jagged black line on the shell. “He’s been doing that!”

“Oh!” I sensed the little guy’s determination and excitement, although he was tired. After all, he was just a baby. “It’ll probably take hours for him to break his way out.” I yawned before I thought to cover my gaping mouth, which I couldn’t have done anyway, since my arms were full of griffin egg. “Excuse me!”

“Whatever,” Win snapped. “This is terrible! Mirka will kill us if the Beast doesn’t eat us first. There’s no way we’re gonna walk away from this mess.”

“Who knows what might happen in the next few days? I talked with the Gamekeeper last night, and I’m sure he’ll know what to do, how to help the eggs hatch and all.”

“Why talk with a gamekeeper? I’ll take care of the eggs. It’s my job.”

I gave her an incredulous look, but she was serious. “You don’t know? The Gamekeeper is the guardian of Faraway Castle, but somehow he’s trapped here in the Forbidden Palace. He knows Vlad and Mirka, and I’m sure he’ll know how to help the baby griffins.”

Emotions I couldn’t begin to interpret flickered across Winifred’s pallid face.

“He is kind and very powerful,” I added.

“Good to know.” Her tone was flat. Then she raised a brow at my skimpy attire. “You might want to change into actual clothes before you ask this gamekeeper for help.”

Heat flooded my face. “This is what the servants left out for me.” I tardily noticed her flannel pajamas and woolly robe. “I have no idea why.”

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