The Griffin and the Wren

By A. C. Williams

The forest was alive with every one of Wren’s nightmares. Trees beckoned with branches like witch’s fingers. Reptilian skin rustled through the leaves underfoot. Unseen birds complained.

The darkness around her shifted as though it were something tangible.

Wren stumbled over a gnarled root that had crawled out of the loam. She caught herself on her palms, scraping them against broken twigs and sharp rocks buried in the dirt.

This wasn’t how her journey was supposed to go. She and Florence had left St. Lucy’s together, seeking a cure for the crimson plague at the Emberstone Tavern. But when Wren stepped through the Waygate, it transported her to this dark, evil place, with no Florence in sight.

Brushing mud and sticky broken twigs from her skirt, she shivered in the cold, muggy air. Surely if she just kept moving, she’d find someone.

She crawled over a log in her path when a hissing sound stopped her.

Was it a snake?

Oh, please don’t be a snake. Wren scanned the dirt at her feet.

In the gloom and fog, the ground was difficult to see.

The noise repeated, this time followed by a thrashing motion in the leaves beneath the log she’d just climbed over. A flash of white fur.

Is it… a furry snake? Is that a thing? Is that worse?

But if the animal had wanted to attack her, it wouldn’t have tried to hide itself. Wren knelt to peer under the log.

“Hello?”

A high-pitched growl answered, and a huge pair of blue eyes blinked at her from a round, fluffy face.

“A kitten?” Wren gasped. “How did you get here?” Slowly, she reached her hand toward the frightened animal.

The kitten snarled but then sniffed her hand. The tiny creature bumped its nose into her knuckles, and Wren gently scratched her fingertips under the kitten’s chin.

The transformation was instant, and Wren had an armful of squirming, purring kitten demanding more scratches.

Wren laughed as the kitten stretched and rolled in her arms, desperate to rub itself against her from every angle.

“You’re so friendly.” Wren giggled and held the kitten close. “Are you lost?”

The kitten whined pitifully.

“I know. I’m lost too.”

A low rumble shook the murky air, trembling in the fog. Wren clutched the kitten to her chest, and the kitten uttered a growling squeal, flicking its tail sharply.

Wren scanned the darkness, and her heart stuttered in her chest as she caught the outline of something beside a giant oak. A creature. Eight feet tall with a monstrous beak that curved into a killing point. White feathers ruffled around its face and neck and blended into the muscled body of a lion. A giant pair of brown wings spread from its back.

Wren had heard about brutal voidbeasts who prowled the netherwoods. Was this one of them? She held her breath. What would it do? Had it already seen them? Would it attack?

The kitten trilled, turning its ears forward.

Wren clutched the kitten tighter. No, little one, now isn’t the time to make friends.

But it persisted, and its cute mewling became dramatic yowls. If the monstrous creature hadn’t noticed them before, it certainly did now.

The kitten clawed at her hands, and Wren dropped it. The dirty fluffball pranced toward the indignant monster.

Its golden-green eyes studied the kitten as it approached.

Would it squash the kitten with one of its massive paws? Would it snatch it up in its razor-sharp beak?

The kitten meowed at the monster. The beast fluffed out its feathers and rustled its wings, snapping its tail. It lowered its huge head to nudge the kitten with its beak, and the kitten bumped its nose against the monster’s beak.

Because of course it did.

The beast ruffled its feathers and made a threatening noise, like a cross between a muffled shriek and a growl. Then it stepped forward like a majestic creature of legend.

Wren yelped and scrambled for the nearest tree, but what good would that do? She couldn’t outrun it or overpower it.

The beast snorted.

Wren stopped.

She turned around and stared. The beast had lowered itself on the springy forest ground and dropped one wing. It eyed her with its sharp gaze and shook its feathery mane.

The kitten pounced on the monster’s tail and yowled with delight as the monster flicked its tail away, allowing the kitten to chase it.

Maybe—maybe it wasn’t a monster after all.

Carefully, still uncertain, Wren stepped back toward the beast and held out her hand to it. The giant creature nudged her hand with its beak.

“You—you want me to ride?” Wren stammered.

The beast nodded, eyes glittering.

Wren glanced up toward the tree canopy. “This is the Veil, right? I need to go to the Emberstone Tavern. Can you help me?”

The warm beak bumped against her hand gently.

“You’re not a monster at all.”

The beast whipped its head around and screeched at the kitten, who had a mouthful of the tail between its fangs. Wren quickly gathered the kitten up and slowly climbed onto the animal’s back. Once she was settled, it stood up and spread its wings with a loud, reverberating shriek.

With several bone-jarring flaps, they were off the ground and sailing into the canopy of the dark forest. Then they were in the clouds, with a floating island hanging in the sky ahead.

“That’s it!” Wren shouted over the wind. “That’s where the Emberstone is!”

The kitten purred in her arms, and Wren laid her head on the beast’s shoulder, feeling the muscles ripple with every wing stroke.

“Thank you,” Wren whispered into the animal’s fur.

She was pretty sure the beast couldn’t hear her, and even if it could, it probably wouldn’t have understood. But the beast’s head did swivel most of the way back to look at her, its sharp golden-green eyes warm.

So.

Maybe it understood after all.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A.C. Williams is an author and entrepreneur who loves cats, country living, and all things Japanese. She’d rather be barefoot, and if she isn’t her socks will never match. A proud Hufflepuff, she takes her coffee with cream, her pizza with pineapple, and her stories with spaceships. Follow her travel adventures with Hermes the Frog on social media.

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