Page 11 of Winds of Darkness
Except it wasn’t an eagle.
It was a griffin.
Fuck.
He slipped a medallion from his pocket, clenching it in his fist while he kept moving. He didn’t make it very far. The griffin dove, hard and fast. If he tried to make a run for it, Rayner knew he’d find more than one arrow in his back. His only real option was to stop and pray to Anala that the Witch would escort him to the border.
The ground beneath his boots shook when the beast landed fifteen feet away from him, its rider slipping from its back. And as she stalked towards him, drawing her sword from her back, he knew he was well and truly fucked.
Hazel Hecate. The High Witch.
She stopped in front of him, her blade leveled at his throat. “Lower your hood,” she ordered in an icy tone, violet eyes burning into him.
“I would rather not,” he replied, fingers itching to reach for his own weapons.
“It was not a request.”
Keeping the medallion in hand, he slowly lifted his arms, pushing back the hood of his cloak. If the High Witch was surprised by the swirling smoke in his eyes, she did not show it.
“I have heard rumors one of you had been spotted on the continent.”
“I have heard rumors the Oracle resides in your kingdom,” Rayner countered.
The High Witch’s lip curled slightly in disgust. “Do you know what we do to males in my lands, Ash Rider?”
“I do.”
“And yet here you stand.”
Rayner did not answer. Just held her gaze, waiting to see what she did next.
She slowly lowered her sword, holding it at her side. “There has not been an Ash Rider born in centuries.”
“That you were aware of.”
“What business do you have with the Oracle?”
“None of yours.”
Her head tilted. A predator assessing prey. “Tell me, Ash Rider, do you value your tongue?”
“I find it useful,” he conceded.
“Then I suggest you mind how you speak to me.” She took a step towards him. “I do not care if you are the last Ash Rider that will ever walk this realm. I will not hesitate to take you from this world for male arrogance.”
“I meant no disrespect, Lady,” Rayner replied. “Truly.”
“What is in your hand?”
“A trinket.”
“Show me.”
He opened his fist, showing her the medallion. She held out her own hand, and he begrudgingly dumped the medallion into it. She held it up between two fingers, studying it intensely, before she slipped it into a pocket of her witchsuit. “I will take you to the Oracle.”
It took everything in him to not show the shock that rippled through him. “Why?”
“The Oracle told me one would come with such a trinket. When he did, I was to show him the way.” She turned, sheathing her sword down her back as she added, “It is the only reason you are not dead.” Rayner watched her walk back to her griffin, the beast lowering to the groundat her approach so she could hoist herself onto its back. When its large wings flared wide, preparing to take to the sky, the High Witch said, “Meet me where you see him land.”
