The Necromancer

Chapter Twenty

The impact onto the Griffin's back is jarring. Angela's knives dig into its thick hide, and she pulls herself onto its body at its shoulder blades. Wing blades? She promises herself she'll look that up if she survives the night. Lightness tingles her stomach and fingertips, threatening to give way to the feeling of numbness. She refuses, tightening her grip and letting the wind blow her hair against her back.

They're considerably high up, and the Griffin's powerful wings are bringing them higher with every passing second. She looks over its dark body, trying to see James' pale face, but he's either taken cover or disappeared entirely.

Plan—I need a plan. There hadn't been time to make one on the ground, but now she wishes she would've thought a little harder. Taking her hands off the knives would result in her falling—probably to her death—but she needs her hands to reach her back up knives tucked in her waistband.

The Griffin squawks, trying to buck Angela off its back. She clenches her arms, pulling herself closer to its neck, the wind threatening to blow her away and screaming in her ears. Tess' voice screams louder, telling her to cast. The words are coming out her mouth before she even has the chance to process them; the ancient commands swirling around her body—protection, weightlessness. She focuses her mind, compelling herself to grab command of the Griffin. Its wings flex as she delves deeper, and it squawks loudly, trying to throw her off.

Finally, she gains control. Her vision focuses; her grip on the knives relaxes. Gently, she pets the Griffin's thick neck, trying to calm its wild thoughts. Kill—dive—kill. There's a dark ooze in its brain—Angela can feel it threatening to overtake her command, but she hunkers down, forcing it back. Still, it feels vile, and burns her muscles.

From somewhere below, James shouts something indiscernible. Angela only sees it a second before it's too late; something rising from the ground with incredible speed. The arrow seems to glow as it fills Angela's vision; it strikes her hard along her forearm.

She screams as her balance fails; Angela topples over the side, her fingers straining to grab the Griffin's feathers. She just manages to hold on, digging her nails into the beast's tough hide, but her hold on its mind has fled. The Griffin thrashes through the night, its wings beating desperately to remain airborne. The arrow, however, seems to have struck true; and the beast tilts downward.

Wind tears at Angela, grabbing at her dangling legs and threatening to snatch her away. She feels like she's in a tornado; the Griffin's terrified squawking pounds in her ears, mixing with her own screaming gasps.

They're going down; Angela can feel her stomach twirl as they descend, the Griffin pounding its wings to no avail. She screams again when the beast topples into a treetop, her arm jolting as she hangs on for dear life, and she feels herself start to slip. Desperately she tries to swing her other arm around the beast's thick neck, but it hits another tree and her grip finally fails.

She's not flying anymore; she's falling.

Screams tear around her, and they're not all her own. They tear at her hair, snatch at her wrists and snag her ankles, trying to drag her toward the ground. She can hear her father's music box voice, and Katie and Caleb's lonely laughter. Alex's quick wit slams into her lungs, threatening to drown her, and Nik's quivering expressions wrap around her heart, freezing her bones.

And even still, there's one voice she can hear above the others. It's new, and not yet familiar, but there's a depth to it that feels dynamic warm and safe. It catches her only yards from the ground, landing gently on its toes.

James holds Angela against his chest as the last utterance of his battlecry fades against her ears. The Griffin screeches as it hits the ground only a few yards away; it's so terrible Angela can't manage tear her eyes away. It finally comes to a halt when the beast's head slams into a thick looking tree, the once proudly stretched wings now bent at awful angles and beak smashed like glass.