Page 13 of Griffin Undone
That didn’t mean I understood thewhyof the message.
I dared to let that small uncertainty out. “All these years without a sighting. After that last hunt, he disappeared completely. We assumed he was dead.” Though I had refused to stop looking for another hundred years.
“That was the last in a long line of mistakes.”
The words, stabbing deep into my chest, vibrated with the rage Solomon had never let go. Rivalen had been his second, leader of the Archai armies. The only male—only shifter ever—that Solomon had let close to him. I and my mother, Cordelia, had certainly never been privileged to do so.
Solomon stared into my eyes, igniting that millennia-old instinct to squirm beneath my father’s censure. Something else I refused to do. I was a thousand years an Archai now, head of our armies, not an impulsive fledgling taken in by an elaborately laid plan of the enemy. I might still fight the guilt within my own mind, but I wouldn’t share the weakness with others, not even my father. Nor my king.
Solomon held my gaze a moment longer, then gave a hard nod and turned to pace. “Why would Arik need the Aomai?”
“Because he’s wounded?” The logical answer slipped out despite my doubt that things were quite so simple. Shifters healed with astonishing speed, though some injuries even our potent gifts couldn’t overcome, at least not completely. Amputations, for instance. Crippled Archai were rare but not unheard of. The Aomai were our most powerful healers, and there was only one per clan. If Arik needed access to the healer, what other reason could it be than that he was hurt and needed help?
If Arik had no other shifter to turn to, would he ask his clan? Or would he simply let himself die? I would have bet the latter, but maybe not. Maybe the will to live couldn’t be ignored.
Don’t assume, remember?
The request was a trap—I knew it; so did Solomon. And knowing was half the battle. The risk was worth it—Arik’s escape had lain on my conscience far too long.
My father echoed my thought. “And if he’s not wounded?”
“Then he’s not,” I replied without hesitation. Nine hundred years seemed a long time to wait for revenge, but trap or not, I would go to the meeting. My king need not command me for this to be done.
Solomon stopped his pacing to stare hard at me. “Speak with the Aomai—and Basile. You will not go without reinforcements. Find Arik and kill him. No more mistakes.”
As Solomon returned to his throne, I found I couldn’t keep the question circling my mind behind my lips. “Did you think I wanted him free?”
My father didn’t turn, didn’t stop. “I think your loyalties were divided. My son, the warrior, unable to find one inexperienced shifter?”
“He wasn’t any more inexperienced than I.” Arik, Maddox, and I had trained as soldiers together, after all.
Solomon came to a halt before his throne. A heavy sigh lifted his shoulders. “You didn’t do your duty. That speaks for itself.”
A tsunami of anger broke through my restraint. “Don’t! Don’t accuse me of putting Archai welfare below friendship.”
Solomon was in my face faster than even my shifter eyes could follow. “I will accuse you of whatever I deem appropriate. You do not and never will dictate to me, Sun.” He pointed behind him. “That throne is not yours yet. It may never be if this is how you rule. I could never bestow the position of king to one I cannot trust, one who cannot fulfill this small duty, even if that one is my own blood.”
We were both breathing hard, both refusing to back down. A dangerous game when it came to the Archai king, but no matter what my father thought, I was not afraid. Nor was I incompetent. To accuse me of valuing a traitor over my people? If that was the case, I didn’t deserve the throne. I wasn’t sure I’d ever desired it. Duty alone dictated my future. And love—not for my father, but for my people.
But Archai society was built on strength, and only the strongest ruled. We were part animals, after all, not that far removed from the true animal kingdom. It would’ve been amusing if it wasn’t so damn painful sometimes. And dangerous. For all our gifts, the Archai were not without our prejudices.
I didn’t bother responding to my king’s accusations; it would not be heard, anyway. When it came to Arik, Solomon had labeled his own son a failure nine hundred years ago, and that label would never disappear, even with Arik’s head on a pike and his ashes scattered to the four winds. I could only do what I knew to be right, not what would please my king. My friends deserved justice, no matter how long it took to exact.
Instead of answering Solomon, I committed the cardinal sin—I turned my back on the throne and its king and strode to the door.
“Sun! How dare you? Sun!”
But Solomon’s rage fell on deliberately deaf ears.
ChapterSeven
Arik
Nestled in the arms of Nashville’s busy streets lay the green oasis that was Centennial Park. During the day, joggers and walkers, strollers and bicycles overran the space. Even the chilly winter dusk couldn’t rid the park of diehards soaking in the outdoors, but it wasn’t the wooded walking paths I needed. It was the Parthenon.
The imposing building at the heart of the park was an exact reproduction of the original Parthenon in Athens, complete with a forty-foot-tall replica of the goddess Athena. I’d never seen the original despite being a thousand years old; maybe I should remedy that someday. For now, though, the Nashville version would have to do.
With the exception of special events, the building was closed in the evenings, providing both dark and isolation for the meetup with Sun. And traffic a mere block or two away ensured the isolation wasn’t absolute. Sun wouldn’t greet me with open arms, assuming he showed up at all, and I refused to take more risks than necessary—not for myself, but for Katherine. No one knew where she was, and even if they did, they couldn’t heal her rapidly weakening body. Though the obligation chafed, I wouldn’t abandon her now, not even for revenge.
