𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄

Pt 18: Griffith Resorts to a Life of Crime

"Kingston!" Griffith called. He tripped over a hidden tree root, quickly rising to press on. After walking for ten minutes, he'd changed his mind and circled back to look for the librarian, guilt wracking him.

"He went this way," Quentin confirmed. He bent down, running his long fingers through the dirt. "Look, these are hoof marks but there are only two." Back hunched, he walked along the trail into a small clearing. "And then he just disappeared."

"Oh, oh no!" Vexx said in a distressed tone. "What if Orion found him and took him away?" Griffith shook his head, refusing to believe it. Quentin sighed, straightening.

"Unfortunately, that's sure what it looks like," he said sadly. "Look at those prints — nothing natural made those." He pointed to a ring of grass that had been squished by feet that consisted of three circles creating a sort of triangular shape. In the centre was a pair of boot prints and hoof prints going round and round, that trailed to the centre and became a shape that vaguely resembled a body. One of the machine tracks led to the middle where the body had been, and then all of them moved away, following the boots. Griffith couldn't make heads or tails of it, but it seemed to make perfect sense to Quentin.

"Kingston was here," he said, pointing at the centre of the ring, "when someone approached him from behind." He pointed to the boots. "He was surrounded by the machines, and one of them grabbed him and carried him off, following whoever had these boots." He stepped over to them and ran his finger around the marks. "Size nine combat boots. He wasn't too tall but taller than Kingston — five eight, five nine."

"That sounds like Orion," Griffith said dismally. "Which means..." he didn't want to finish the sentence.

"He's most likely already dead," Quentin finished grimly. The Atlantean's heart sank into his stomach with the bitter pronouncement when he caught sight of something shiny in the grass and scooped it up in his hand — the librarian's watch. The time was completely inaccurate, but the watch was intact. Griffith slid it in his pocket, staring at the indentation in the grass where Kingston had been.

"I should have told him everything," he said, a kind of numb feeling creeping over him, like he'd been curled up in a weighted blanket too long and his limbs had fallen asleep.

"It's not your fault," Vexx tried to console him, squeezing under his arms and hugging him. Quentin stood off awkwardly to the side, his thick eyebrows furrowed. Griffith didn't feel the siren's embrace, or his shaking hands, or his buckling knees. He didn't believe Vexx. Even if Kingston had chosen to leave, it hadn't been his choice to be dragged along, or to have the truth hidden from him like wool pulled over his eyes. He was too good, too trusting, one of the few truly good at heart Griffith had ever come across; and he had put him in the path of evil. Griffith put his right hand in his pocket, clutching the watch as Vexx backed away.

"We need to keep going," he finally said quietly, "before everyone else dies, too." He took his hand out from his pocket, bending down to pick up Minerva, who pressed her scaled cheek against his and made a kind of purring noise. Tiamat's voice in the key had lied to him, and he'd been doing the same to Kingston instead of learning from his own mistake and being trustworthy and honest.

And now he was dead.

"Don't beat yourself up," Quentin said, putting an arm round his shoulders and guiding him away from the clearing. Griffith tore his eyes away, and the four set out toward the lake between them and Germany.

It didn't take long to reach the lake, but Griffith was afraid of his Core freezing anymore, so Quentin picked the lock of a clothing donation box and the Atlantean wrapped himself in four additional layers, which added cumbrousness but subtracted a lot of cold. After much persuading and cajoling from Vexx, Quentin finally let Griffith give him an air bubble. There were fishing boats on the lake, so they would have to stay away from the surface. Once they were deep enough, Vexx returned to her usual, shark-tailed form, which freaked Quentin out for a moment. Griffith led the way, following the map, but he didn't say anything, unlike Vexx, who suddenly seemed determined to get as much information on the elf as possible.