The Protector and the Peacemaker

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

(Glenda)

"Open wide, your honor."

Arch-Mythic Rayalga begrudgingly opened his beak and allowed Glenda to pour the contents of her vial into it. He shuddered as he tilted his head back to swallow the dark yellow liquid.

"It tastes horrendous," he grumbled, eyeing the old woman with undisguised revulsion.

"It does, Arch-Mythic," Glenda agreed, bowing her head respectfully, "but I'm afraid there's no avoiding it. As long as the potion does its work, surely the taste is worth suffering through, wouldn't you agree?"

"Indeed," the gryphon agreed, "though I'm sure a Mythic would have been able to make it taste tolerable."

Glenda bit back a sharp remark. As much as she disliked the Arch-Mythic, the Arch-Mythic disliked her even more. Given the current state of affairs, she couldn't afford to offend him, lest what little trust he had in her be broken.

He lay on the floor of his personal chamber inside the Guaroff Mines, his body bruised and cut beyond any state she'd ever seen him in. The burns all over his body were the work of the djinn, Azkular. His right wing was stretched out beside him at an angle that was obviously broken. He blamed the former commander for that, as well. None of this surprised Glenda, though. She'd seen Azkular fight before, and knew that the fire-blooded djinn was not to be trifled with. What impressed her was the single cut he had on his side, a stab wound that was neither deep nor overly painful for such a strong Mythic. He claimed it had been given to him by Porter, who had rushed to the aid of his other human friend. As insignificant as the wound was to the Arch-Mythic, the idea that Porter had been able to give it to him was astounding. Glenda felt herself glow with pride for her adopted son, but she wisely hid it from the injured gryphon.

With her potion doing its work inside Rayalga's body, the Arch-Mythic nodded, signaling the other Mythics that were standing by the wall to approach him. They stepped up to him, one for each of his many wounds, muttering healing spells under their breath and aimed the beam of magic at their designated injury. Rayalga sighed with relief as he felt his wounds begin to heal. The potion Glenda had given him increased his body's natural healing rate, which in turn made the spellcasters' work less taxing than it otherwise would have been. Glenda watched as his cuts closed on themselves, burned patches of fur regrew, and his wing snapped back into place. In less than five minutes, the Arch-Mythic stood again, as tall and proud as he ever had.

Except that his eyes were alight with madness.

He flapped his wing a couple of times experimentally before he was satisfied. "You have all done well," he said to each of his healers as they stood back against the wall again. "You and your families will be rewarded for your service."

Glenda didn't miss the fact that Rayalga hadn't even looked in her direction when he'd said this. She wasn't surprised. Even after twelve years of service to the Arch-Mythic, the gryphon still viewed her as nothing more than a tool that could be easily replaced. He had said as much several times, adding that whoever she was replaced with would likely do far better at her job than she did. While she doubted that this was true, she knew that the only reason she'd gotten this position at all was because she had Rayalga's pity, not his respect. That was the best a human like her could hope for.

"Leave me now," the Arch-Mythic ordered. "I have much to discuss with my commanders."

The Mythics all bowed their heads and filed obediently out of the chamber. Glenda followed them, but was shoved rudely aside as the commanders made their way in. She recognized three of them, but the fourth was new— likely Rayalga's replacement for Azkular. He almost looked like the sphinx Porter had been travelling with. He had a lion's body, rippled with muscle, and the face of a particularly ugly human. His cold black eyes glittered with sadistic anticipation. However, unlike Sarah, he had no wings coming out of his back. Instead, his tail stretched farther behind his back than a lion's. It was segmented, like an insect's, and what looked like spear heads poked out of it in several places.