Page 59 of The Beauty and the Griffin

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling old and frail.

And terribly guilty.

21

BEATRICE

My lecture about acceptingreality hadn’t so much as dented Win’s iron-clad opinions, but for the next few days (weeks? months? I had trouble keeping track of time) we girls were so busy feeding, cleaning, exercising, and teaching the griflets that she couldn’t possibly have found opportunity to plot my demise or imagine new unhappy endings.

The griflets grew so quickly that our schedule was never the same for two days straight. When they outgrew their nesting boxes and became a hazard to the priceless musical instruments, we moved their things into a large meeting hall downstairs. Actually, the staff did all the heavy work, and we’d followed gratefully with our scampering, wrestling, quarreling griflets.

We spent most of our time in the gardens and grounds, which were extensive—larger than those at Faraway Castle and even more magical, which I wouldn’t have believed possible. Less than two weeks after hatching, the griflets were fully feathered, talking in sentences, and catching their own small prey. Both were growing into handsome griffins. The top of Chicky’s head nearly reached my shoulder, and Dodger wasn’t far behind her in size. He was the better hunter, which annoyed his sister, but she could fly farther . . . which at that point wasn’t saying much.

Winifred still tried to boss both the griflets and me. Dodger did his best to please her but never quite succeeded. Chicky totally ignored her. I listened politely to whatever she said, then did what I thought best.

Dodger was sweet-natured and compliant from the start—a great blessing, since Chicky surpassed even Win at pure bossiness. Both griflets now talked into my head, so to speak, but I could communicate mentally only to Chicky. And whenever I spoke to Dodger aloud, Win freaked out and the two griflets quarreled.

I really wished I understood what was going on with those three!

One bright morning, Win and I watched our griflets dunk for fish just offshore in a small lake, and afterward the four of us relaxed on some flat rocks at the shoreline to soak up sunshine. My head knew it must still be winter here in the mountains, but the weather felt more like spring.

Chicky primly preened her glossy feathers while Dodger sprawled out, spreading his wings and legs to catch more heat. His barred shades-of-silver feathers made me think of a falcon, and his fur was also silvery. Chicky’s feathers shimmered a pale gold that shaded into the tawny fur of her legs and body. They were both incredibly handsome creatures, though I might have been slightly biased toward my golden girl.

Lying flat on my back with my hands behind my head, I noticed a winged horse flying in a large circle high above, rather like a sentry. Another one circled in the distance. Did they do that every day and I hadn’t noticed? Sitting upright, I saw a herd of unicorns on a distant hillside. They were known as shy, peaceful, elusive creatures, but this group seemed aggressive, sparring with their flashing horns.

“Do you see those unicorns?” I asked Winifred, keeping my voice low.

“Of course.” Her tone was grim. “They’re practicing military drills. All the sentient creatures here are preparing for war.”

“War?” I nearly choked on the word.

“Of course. Don’t worry, we won’t be fighting here.”

I nearly asked if she knew what was currently happening at Faraway Castle, but a second thought shut down that impulse. She was a young girl with very little magic. If the Gamekeeper didn’t know, how could Winifred?

That afternoon, while the griflets dined on fresh game in their quarters, then collapsed into a near stupor, I slipped upstairs to bathe my grubby self before dinner. While soaking in the tub, I determined to privately tell the Gamekeeper about the unicorns we’d seen and Win’s talk of war. He probably already knew, but in all the craziness since we arrived at the palace, I’d sometimes forgotten to wonder about what might be happening at Faraway Castle. Was Auntie Bella safe? Were my friends all right?

It felt incredibly good to be clean again. Back in my room, I found a pair of skinny jeans, a downy white cowl-neck pullover, and cute boots laid out for me. Everything fitted me perfectly, of course, and I thanked my maids even though I didn’t sense their presence. A simple French braid tamed my damp hair, and a touch of makeup boosted my confidence before I headed down to the dining room.

Win was consuming some kind of messy sandwich when I arrived. “What took you so long?” she mumbled with a full mouth.

“I took a bath.”

She shrugged. “The griflets won’t sleep much longer.”

“I know.” They took brief naps all through the day but still slept hard at night.

When an invisible servant seated me, I said, “Thank you. I can hardly wait for the chef’s specialty of the day.”

“You are so weird,” Win observed.

“Since when are good manners weird?”

“Who in their right mind talks to ghosts?”

“I do.” I gave her a cheery smile just to see her roll her eyes. “Wow, I’m hungry! It’s a good thing we do so much hiking around, what with all the gourmet meals and divine pastries we snarf down like hungry griflets.”

She couldn’t argue. Both of us enjoyed every bite of every meal.

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