Page 80 of The Beauty and the Griffin

“The Gamekeeper’s power is diminishing.” Midnight’s tone was grim. “Winter is breaking through. You must end the curse.”

My heart raced faster in panic. “Why would he wander into the gardens at night when he’s been feeling so poorly?” I muttered to myself. More to the point, how could I and a bunch of cinder sprites help him return to the palace? I couldn’t possibly support his weight, and I hadn’t sensed a single servant around since last evening.

Moments later, I sensed the Gamekeeper’s presence.

“Hello? Gamekeeper?” I called out, frustrated by the darkness. “Where are you?”

No answer.

“Midnight?”

I was alone. Even my furry escort had abandoned me. Only the thin wail of icy wind cut through the ominous silence. I blinked and squinted in every direction. All was dark and unfamiliar. Finally, gazing up at the empty black sky, I prayed for help.

When I looked around again, I discerned something tall and bulky and hurried toward it. Not the Gamekeeper but a dry fountain rimmed with rearing unicorns loomed before me. I thought I recognized it, but that didn’t help—my sense of direction was nonexistent, which, to be honest, is usually the case for me.

I kept moving up the path. What else could I do? I navigated icy paving stones between some formal flowerbeds, walking almost as if I had a destination in mind. The ground sloped upward, and there! My heart gave a great leap, then dropped in dread. Ahead, a bulky form lay on the path between patches of ice. Trembling with cold and fear, I forced myself to approach it. “Gamekeeper?”

After a few cautious steps, I distinguished a pawlike foot. Another step, and I saw an outstretched arm clad in a suitcoat. Despite the darkness, I could see him more clearly than ever before. In a quick dash I threw myself onto my hands and knees beside him. He lay on his back, his face turned away from me. When I grasped his huge hand and rubbed it between mine, it felt clammy and limp.

“Oh, my dear friend!” I leaned over him, trying to see his shadowed features. “Why are you out here in the cold night?” I felt his thick wrist for a pulse. Nothing. I pressed my ear against his vest. Was he even breathing? I heard only my own racing heart in my ears. Yet I knew he was still with me: I sensed his spirit.

I couldn’t shift his bulk, so I moved to his other side. Placing my hands on his rough cheeks, I smoothed back his icy mane, then rubbed his furry ears, willing him to open his eyes. He looked drained beyond exhaustion, as if the weight of worlds crushed him.

“Dear Gamekeeper, please wake up!” My heart broke for him, for my dearest friend, for the beautiful soul and spirit he really was—nothing like this grotesque shell of a body.

“I need you.” I ran my hands down his waistcoat, then framed his face with my hands, calling to him, “Please don’t die! Please choose to live! Gamekeeper, I need you!”

He was stiff and cold. No! It couldn’t end like this!

Wrenching sobs began to pour from me until, despairing, I rested my head on his chest . . . and felt it move. He was still breathing! I clasped his face between my hands, willing him to open his eyes.

“Dearest, can you hear me? Please,pleasedon’t die! I love you! You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t care if you look like a monster. You’re beautiful inside. I can’t lose you!”

I thought I felt him stir, and my heart leapt with hope. “Please choose to live!”

His mouth moved, revealing the glint of sharp fangs. “Beatrice, my beauty,” he whispered.

“Yes? I’m here.”

I still held his face while his eyes fluttered open to meet my gaze. “Will you . . . marry me?”

At first, I could only sob, nodding and blubbering like a total mess, but at last I managed to assure him, “Yes, I will marry you. Just please don’t die! I’ll care for you as long as you live and treasure every—”

Utter darkness dropped over us, and something like a magical wind seemed determined to tear us apart. “No. No!” Hardly able to think for fear, I clung to my Beast, determined that nothing and no one would take him from me again. With my arms wrapped around his neck, I lay half on top of him, hiding my face in his mane and babbling, “I’m here, dear Gamekeeper. Don’t be afraid! I won’t leave you ever again, my dearest friend.”

“Beatrice.”

Amid all the darkness and terror, his voice was comforting, familiar. Yet, it sounded . . . different. More human.

“I’m right here,” I assured him and kissed his cheek. It felt different too. Still bristly, but warm. “If only this terrible darkness would lift.”

“Beatrice.” His arms wrapped around me, and he effortlessly sat upright, cradling me in his lap.

But . . . how? He’d been at Death’s door just moments ago! The frigid wind was gone, but the darkness prevailed. “Be careful! You’re very ill.”

“I am quite well now, thanks to you.”

The gentle amusement in his rich voice rang a bell. My mouth dropped open, and my stomach clenched. But . . . but how could this be true? I lifted one hand to his face and the other to his chest . . . and my heart suddenly pounded double-time in rhythm with his as realizations and memories unspooled in my brain. My worry for his health vanished, but—stubborn and insecure as ever—I tried to box up my emotions and ignore the truth I’d realized, or maybe pretend I’d always known?

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