The Gryphon's Lair by Kelley Armstrong

The Gryphon's Lair by Kelley Armstrong

Author:Kelley Armstrong [Armstrong, Kelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PRH Canada Young Readers
Published: 2020-06-02T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER TWENTY

Dain and I are out of the tent, slipping through the dew-damp forest toward Alianor’s voice, intertwining with an old woman’s voice, bristling with anger. I know this isn’t a witch. At least, not in the sense of someone who can cast hexes and curses and spells. There is no such thing. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t dangerous. She lives alone in the forest. That means she probably doesn’t like people very much. Plants and herbs can be used for more than healing, as she proved with those darts.

I don’t have my sword. I remember it falling as I lost consciousness, but I have no idea where that happened. Dain’s dagger and bow are gone, too. We have Malric, though, and I’d choose him over my sword any day.

As we creep through the woods, the warg follows at our heels. Jacko rests on my shoulders, his front paws across my head.

In the distance, Alianor argues with the old woman. I catch snippets of the conversation, Alianor saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and the woman replying, “Don’t lie to me, girl.” They keep circling that—the old woman is obviously accusing Alianor of something that she’s denying.

She’s obviously accusing Alianor of filling her house with dropbears. The only solution to this problem doesn’t involve wargs or swords. It requires another weapon entirely. The truth.

Finally, we’re close enough for me to see Alianor on her knees, hands tied behind her back as the old woman snaps at her. I peer at the woman. Her skin is the same shade as mine and wrinkled like a walnut shell. She wears her dark-streaked gray hair in a simple plait down her back, and she’s dressed in leather leggings and a tunic, with a dagger in her belt and boots laced to her knees.

Despite her age, she’s no bent-back elder, toddling along on a walking stick, and seeing her, I quail at the thought of what I’m about to do. I don’t reconsider, though. I take a deep breath, and then I step from the forest, ignoring Dain’s intake of breath and Malric’s jaws snapping at my shirttails to hold me back.

“It was me,” I say as I walk from the forest. “I trapped the dropbears in your cabin.”

The woman turns sharply. Then she sees me and stares. Just stares. Rendered speechless by the sight of the royal princess. Then a voice says, “Is that a…jackalope on your head, girl?”

I quickly pull Jacko down and cradle him in my arms. Then I realize the voice didn’t come from the old woman. I turn to see another woman with a bow. Beside her stands another woman, this one holding a spear. Two more step out on my opposite side, both armed.

“Yes, that’s a jackalope,” Alianor says, her voice ringing out. “This is Rowan, princess of Tamarel, royal monster hunter, tamer of wild beasts…and my friend.”

The women laugh. Throw back their heads and laugh.

“Nice try, child,” one says. “She’s a girl who’s tamed a jackalope.



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