The Griffin's Flight by K.J. Taylor

fine could only belong to a griffiner. And you speak griffish. The signs are hardly difficult to see.”
    “So, people know about me,” Arren mumbled, not quite able to take all this in.
    Skade gave an incredulous laugh. “You cannot be serious.”
    “I’ve been out here for months,” said Arren. “I haven’t spoken to another human being in all that time. I have no idea what people know about me.”
    “They know everything, Arren Cardockson,” said Skade. “It has been months since you destroyed Eagleholm. More than long enough for word to spread.”
    Arren stared at her. “I destroyed—?”
    Skade blinked. “Is there anything you do know about yourself?”
    “I never destroyed Eagleholm,” said Arren. “How could I have?”
    “You murdered the Mistress and her council, and you set the Eyrie on fire,” Skade told him. “It burned to the ground. Dozens of other griffiners and griffins were killed. The city is no more. The griffins and the griffiners have abandoned it.”
    Arren was aghast. “I didn’t kill the Mistress! Or her council! I—”
    “But that is the story I heard,” said Skade. “That is the story many people are telling. You destroyed the city in one night, with the help of a black griffin, and now every griffiner in Cymria will be looking for you.”
    Arren closed his eyes. “Oh gods.”
    “I cannot believe that you did not know this,” said Skade. “Or that you trusted me! I could have killed you in your sleep if I had wanted to.”
    “And are you going to try and do it now?” said Arren.
    She spat. “No. What do I care what you have done? I have no love of griffiners or partnered griffins. I only want to know why you did it.”
    “Well, what are people saying?” said Arren.
    “That you did it because you are insane. I did not believe it then, and I do not believe it now. Madness is not a reason. So tell me why you did it,” said Skade. “There is no reason to hide it from me,” she added when he didn’t reply immediately. “Who would I tell?”
    “I didn’t do it,” said Arren. “And I’m not mad.”
    “Oh? Then if you did not set fire to the Eyrie, who did? The city did not destroy itself.”
    “I only killed one of them,” Arren blurted. “Just one. And I did set the Eyrie on fire, but I didn’t know the whole thing would burn down. I just did it so they’d be too busy trying to put it out to chase after me. I didn’t know that … oh gods.” He closed his eyes. The Mistress dead and dozens of others …
    Skade looked curious. “Who was the one you murdered? And why?”
    “Rannagon,” said Arren. “It was Lord Rannagon, the reeve. And his griffin, Shoa. But I didn’t kill her; Skandar did.”
    “Why did you kill them?”
    “Because Lord Rannagon betrayed me. He was—” Arren fiddled with his hair, caught between guilt and fear. “I was a griffiner.” He paused and laughed bitterly. “I was. I really was. A real griffiner. My griffin was white, and her name was Eluna. She chose me when I was just a small boy; they couldn’t persuade her to leave me. The other griffiners didn’t want to accept me because I was a Northerner, but one of them offered to train me. I learnt griffish from him, and other things. When I was old enough I expected to be given a place in the Eyrie, but I didn’t get one. I had to live out in the city with the commoners. I didn’t mind. I always thought that one day they’d accept me. I did well. They made me Master of Trade. And then one day …”
    Before he knew it, the story was tumbling out of him, all of it. Rannagon’s betrayal, Eluna’s death, and the misery and despair that had taken over his life once he returned to Eagleholm in disgrace.
    “I finally did get another job, though, working in the hatchery,” he said at last. “I hoped another griffin would choose me, but none did. Why would they? I was the lowest of the low by then. And then one day some people broke into my house. I still don’t know who