Page 70 of The Beauty and the Griffin

As if on cue, Win rolled her eyes. “C’mon. Let’s go find Dodger and Chicky, and we’ll discuss this and make plans. Now is the safest time of day, while the enemy is distracted.”

“What are you talking about? We’re safe from our enemies here.”

“So you think. First, we find the griffins, then I’ll explain.”

“Just so’s you know,” I shot back, “you’ll never get me to fly on a griffin’s back. Not a chance.”

I repeated that statement more than once while following Win through the breakfast room’s back door into a hall I didn’t recognize, then through an exterior door into a chilly afternoon. Exclaiming over the cold, I wrapped my light jacket closer, hugging myself.

“You should have brought a coat.” Win shrugged into hers.

“Why? Where are we going?”

“To a practice field.”

“You might have warned me.” I scrambled to catch up with her, looking around with growing curiosity. “Practice for what?”

“Flying, of course.”

We traversed a gap between the palace’s back wall and the nearly vertical stone cliff. Beautiful vines and shade-loving shrubs and flowers formed a bower of green and color, and water trickled into a frost-lined pool beside a path. Win strode ahead without hesitation, so I followed her. Some of the vines and flowers had withered in the cold. “I’ve never seen the back of the palace before. Why’s it so cold?”

“You’ve never seen most of this place, but I’ve been scouting around. The griflets know to meet me up ahead, and I’m giving you another chance.”

“Another chance for what?” This did not sound good.

“You’ll see.”

As soon as we emerged from behind the palace, our path began to zigzag downward between large boulders. I was too busy watching where I put my feet to give the mountain views more than fleeting glances, but my suspicions rose higher with each step. I needed to know what Winifred was planning.

Look up at me, Beeetrice!

I paused, shaded my eyes, and found Chicky high overhead, her great golden wings spread wide, and that long tail of hers trailing behind. Dodger chased her while they bickered, laughed in their squawky way, and enjoyed the freedom of the skies. Those two were devoted siblings despite their constant competition.

“Beeetrice!” Dodger called, and when I looked his way, he performed a loop-de-loop, tipped into a steep dive, spread his wings to stall, and made a neat landing in a grassy field.

From my standpoint on the rocky slope, I clapped and cheered. “Awesome landing!”

Certain that Chicky would attempt a “top this,” I hurried down to the level clearing just in time to hear inside my head:Beeetrice, watch me!Shading my eyes, I obediently looked up to where she soared, a tiny silhouette in the vast sky. With dizzying speed, she spiraled downward and at the last moment cupped her huge wings to perform a perfect four-point landing in the field.

“Bravo!” I shouted, applauding again. “You both are amazing!” Forgetting their dignity, they scrambled toward me like happy puppies.

“Get over here, all of you,” Win called, her tone peremptory. “We’re safe at the moment with no one to overhear, but there’s no time to waste.”

Something in her voice set my teeth on edge. After all the generous kindness we’d received, she still believed the palace staff and the Gamekeeper were spying on us?

She might as well have saved her breath. The griflets never so much as paused in their rush to bunt their feathery heads into my shoulders—gently, as though afraid they might break me, which they could easily have done. Win was still shouting orders and angry-walking in our direction when Chicky paused to meet my gaze.I think Win wants us to do something bad.

I gave my head a little shake.You may be right, but we need to hear her plans.

Both griffins agreed.

I could only wish for the gift of appearing as emotionless as they did. Maybe it was their feathers? Yet their emotions were clear to me: Chicky was skeptical, and Dodger was hopeful. I could only hope Winifred wouldn’t hurt my brave, kind boy.

I rested one hand on the back of each feathery neck as the three of us approached Win.

“Hurry,” she demanded, beckoning us closer. Win’s magic was minimal—hembez level—yet I suspected it could be quick and sneaky. Dodger walked straight up to her, but Chicky and I stopped at a wary distance.

Win scowled, as usual. “Okay, listen up. First, you need to know the history of this place.” She indicated our surroundings with a sweeping gesture. “Do you know how Adelboden stopped being a kingdom?”

---