Page 197 of Heat of the Everflame

I squinted and strained my ears, but I heard nothing over the whistling wind.

“Is it possible Sorae is here?” she asked.

“Doubtful. Why?”

She slowly stepped backward, dragging me along with her. “Any chance the Umbros gryvern wants to protect us, too?”

Then I heard it—thump, thump, thump.

“Run.”

We sprinted inside to find the men seated at a table passing around a leftover flagon of ale.

“Gryvern,” I shouted. “Hide!”

They jumped to their feet. Taran slung Luther’s arm over his shoulder, and they hobbled to the shadow of an oversized wooden buffet. Zalaric slid behind a hanging tapestry, a shimmer of his light magic helping his outline disappear.

“Do illusions work on gryverns?” I asked Alixe.

“Perhaps. But it won’t stop the gryvern from hearing us. Or smelling us.”

The thumping grew louder, and I shoved her away. “Go. Hide.”

She hesitated. “What about you?”

“Go!”

Her jaw tensed, but she obeyed. She fled to a far corner and crouched low, giving me a final nod before vanishing into thin air.

I grabbed the flagon of ale, then ran to the terrace and splashed it over the entry. It wasn’t terribly pungent, but its odor might mask us long enough for the gryvern to lose interest and fly away.

A winged silhouette emerged from the clouds. My head whipped around in search of a hiding place, but in my panic, the best I could find was a gauzy, fluttering curtain. I swore softly and tucked myself into its pleats.

Seconds later, the floor rattled from an impact, followed by clawed talons clicking against stone. Through the filmy fabric, I spied the yellow eyes of the Umbros gryvern shining in the darkness.

Help, I said silently to my godhood.Do something. Hide us.

My magic turned its curious gaze my way. If it answered, I couldn’t tell. It seemed to be waiting. Watching.

The gryvern paced along the terrace edge, its long tail slapping loudly against the stone. My stomach churned—if it decided to rest here for the night, a violent confrontation would be unavoidable.

The beast dropped its nose to the floor and snuffled loudly in wide, sweeping arcs. I held my breath as it prowled past the area where Alixe and I had been standing.

Suddenly, it stilled. Turned around. Sniffed again. Tilted its head. Took another long, deliberate smell. Then snapped its attention to the dining room.

My sharp inhale was muffled behind my hand. The creature stomped toward me, then paused at the puddle of spilled ale. It sniffed and licked at the liquid, its head angling right, then left.

Broad feathered wings tucked in tight against its body as it splashed through the ale and stepped to the massive archwayleading inside. With lethal focus, it surveyed the room, its scrutiny catching on the overturned chairs at the table, then again at the barricade we’d pushed against the door.

A skittering trill rumbled from the creature’s throat. It sank into a predatory crouch as it scanned the room again and settled its piercing gaze on the buffet near the wall.

Right where Taran and Luther were hiding.

My heart hurled itself against my ribs, desperate to get to him, as the gryvern moved closer. It jabbed its snout against the buffet, and the hefty wooden chest jostled as if it were no more than a pile of sticks.

I jolted in fear, causing the curtain to sway. The gryvern glared in my direction.

Time stretched on for an eternity as I cringed and waited to be discovered, but after an excruciating moment, the creature turned back to the buffet.

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