Griffa’s world was one of darkness and pain. She spent most of her days sitting or lying on the hard floor of her cell. She was filthy, hungry, dizzy, and very tired. She hadn’t seen Max in what seemed like a long time. She had no idea when a day began or ended. She saw only soldiers and Philo.

Soldiers came in what she thought was probably twice a day with a meager meal, water, and an elixir they made her drink. It made her head spin and her eyes heavy. Philo seemed to only come down to heckler her or hurt her. Griffa had experienced so much pain since she had gotten there, that she forgot what it was like to not hurt constantly.

She sat in the back corner of her cell with her head down and her eyes closed. She worried with the ropes on her wrist, letting the pain they cause help her to stay awake. If she let herself sleep as much as she felt like, she knew she would give up. It would be so easy to just lay down and let herself stop trying. She could stop eating and drinking, and she could just lie still until she drifted off never to wake again.

It was so tempting to give in, but then she would finally see Max, or she would feel her pendant from Ansel warm against her skin. Her resolve would harden, and she would force herself to stay awake and eat. She had promised Max she wouldn’t give up. Sometimes when she would see Max, he would be able to touch her hand, and she would be reminded of the magic inside of her. She hadn’t had the strength to think how she could use their connection to their advantage. Somehow, she needed to focus.

Her pendant would remind her that Ansel was out there, and he hadn’t forgotten them. He would come. She didn’t doubt it. No matter how much time passed, she knew he would not leave them there. Still, the longer she remained in her cell, she wondered when it would be, and if it would be in time. She might have to find a way to save herself and Max.

Griffa thought of Ansel often. She missed so many things and so many people, but she missed Ansel so much it hurt worse than the ropes or any of her injuries. As she sat in the cold shivering, she imagined being held by Ansel. He always made her feel warm and safe. She thought about how he would chuckle and give her a sly smile when she did something ridiculous. She remembered the look in his eyes right before he would kiss her. His look made her feel wanted and loved.

She raised her head and laid it back against the wall. Would Ansel still feel the same about her now that she was the queen? As much as she didn’t want it, she knew who she was. She was the true Queen of Regventus, and Ansel was her protector. She had studied about protector’s magic all winter. She knew what kind of relationship a protector had with his king or queen. A protector did not fall in love with their sovereign. Their sovereign did not fall in love with their protector. It was impossible.

She did love her protector, though. Nothing had changed. She loved Ansel very much. No matter how he felt in their new reality, she could not stop loving him. She tried not to dwell on what would happen if he didn’t love her now. She had other, more pressing things to worry about. Still no matter how much she tried to keep her mind off of it, she still fretted over Ansel’s feeling for her. She shed tears over it. She sometimes despaired thinking about it. Even now she could feel the tears in her eyes. There was nothing she could do about it. She would just have to hope and wait.

Griffa heard a door open at the end of the hall. She stayed where she was wondering if it would be pain or food and sleep.

“Good morning, Gryphon,” said Philo coming to look at her.

Pain it is, thought Griffa looking at Philo silently.

“You haven’t learned manners yet?” asked Philo with a twisted smile.

He raised his hand, and Griffa was forced onto her feet. He brought his hand forward, and she was thrown into the bars next to him. Griffa winced but she did not cry out.

“Just do whatever it is you came down here to do and let me be, Philo,” said Griffa angrily.

Philo smiled bigger and pushed his hand down. Griffa slammed down on the ground.

“We are actually going on a little walk today, so get on your feet,” ordered Philo.

Griffa slowly rose to her feet, and steadied herself on the bars. “Where are we going?”

“Golnar would like a chat with you,” said Philo as he placed his hand on the bars.

A small portioned opened up, and he reached in and grabbed Griffa by the upper arm. He pulled her close and whispered into her ear, “You will behave. If you try anything, you will regret it.” Griffa looked at him defiantly. He pushed her way. “Look at you, you’re a mess. You smell awful.”

“Ask someone to draw me a bath and bring me some fresh clothes then,” said Griffa with false sweetness. “I would hate to offend you or Golnar with my appearance.”

Philo threw her roughly in front of him. He pushed her forward with a boot to her back. “Walk and stay silent.”

Griffa walked slowly down the hall. When they got to the door, Philo reached over her to place his hand on it and open it. She walked up the long spiral staircase. By the time they got to the top, she was exhausted. She leaned against the wall as Philo opened the door. He grabbed her and threw her through the open door.

“’I’m afraid we have quite a few more steps to travel, Gryphon. If you can’t make it, I guess I could levitate you to the top.”

“I’ll make it,” Griffa said quietly.

They walked down the hall and turned down another hall by the throne room, where they came to a large staircase. Philo pushed her towards it and Griffa started ascending the stairs. Halfway up she thought she might faint, but she put her head down and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She thought of all the awful things she wanted to do to Philo. She thought of all the spells and curses she wanted to throw at him.

Eventually they reached the top and came to a door. Griffa was breathing heavily and her head swam. Her vision was blurry. She felt sweat running into her eyes from her forehead. She wanted to lie down and sleep, but she kept on her feet with her head held up. Philo knocked on the door.

“Come in, please,” came a voice from the other side.

Philo opened the door. Griffa walked in and saw that they were in a large circular room. There was a fireplace on one wall with a kettle over it. The walls had many shelves with different books and potion ingredients. Four soldiers stood against the wall in various areas. In the center was a sitting area with a sofa, four chairs, and some small tables. Max was sitting in a chair staring at her. His hands were still bound in rope.

“Griffa,” said Max standing up with wide eyes. “What have you done to her?”

Griffa had no idea what she looked like, but she knew it couldn’t be good. She could imagine her hair was one frizzy tangle that fell down her shoulders. She knew she was filthy. She had dirt and blood caked on her arms. She probably had bruises and cuts on her face.

“I’m fine, Max,” assured Griffa with a voice as strong as she could muster. She was glad to see that Max looked uninjured. He was even mostly clean with different clothes on than the ones he arrived in.

Max walked over to look closer at Griffa. “You said she wouldn’t be harmed.” Max turned to Golnar and gave him a harsh look.

“Miss Keene’s time here will be more comfortable when she starts cooperating,” said Golnar. “Now come sit, both of you. I have some food here I think you might enjoy.”

Max walked to the sofa and sat down. Philo shoved Griffa, and she walked over and sat next to Max on the sofa.

“Eat, please, Miss Keene. I know you must be hungry,” said Golnar sitting down in a chair close to her.

“No thank you,” said Griffa dryly. “I’ve been poisoned before, and I don’t wish to go through that again.” Griffa stared at Philo who stood by the door.

“It’s rude to not accept our hospitality. I can assure you the food is safe. I will show you.” Golnar reached over and took a bit of bread and ate it.

“Griffa,” muttered Max under his breath. “Please, just do as they ask.”

Griffa sighed. She leaned forward and grabbed some cheese off a plate and ate it.

“Good, now the young king tells me you are quite talented with potions,” said Golnar smiling at her.

Griffa took a bit of bread and looked at Max. He nodded encouragingly.

“I suppose you could say that I am proficient with potions,” replied Griffa eating a bit of the bread.

“I have something I would like you to look over for me. I would like your opinion on it.”

Griffa nodded. Golnar got up and grabbed a book off a table near the fireplace. He walked over and handed it to her as he sat back down. “I have the page marked as you can see.”

Griffa opened up to the marked page and looked at the potion instructions found there. She ran her filthy bound hands down the page trying to focus and read what it was saying. It was an old blood potion. Griffa had never seen it before, but some of the ingredients looked familiar.

She looked up at Golnar. “Is this what you have used to release magic in the people of the city?”

Golnar didn’t respond. Griffa looked back at the page. At the bottom was some ancient writings. She understood some of it. Her father had taught her a little from some of the potion books he had back at the manor. It was a language used even before King Nathin took the throne.

“What exactly is it that you want to know about this?” asked Griffa as she tried to make out what the language was saying.

“Is there anything that would make this elixir not work correctly on some, but work fine on others? Is there a way it could be made incorrectly that would affect some in a different way than others?”

Griffa looked at the ancient writings. There was something about a bind between magic users. She could make out the word curse and responsibility.

“This is what you used to release magic throughout the city isn’t it?” asked Griffa looking up at Golnar. She took a breath and listened for Golnar’s magic. “Your magic is very unstable. Has anyone told you that? Philo should have at least noticed it. I’m not sure why he hasn’t said something.”

Golnar snapped his head around to look at Philo who was walking towards them. “She is lying, Golnar. I told you she would never willingly help us. I better take her back to cell, or let’s just get rid of her permanently.”

Max made a noise as Griffa looked at Philo. “What reason do I have to lie? You know it’s true. This man’s magic is not stable. I’d be surprised if he could lift a feather off of a table with magic.”

Philo looked at Golnar as Golnar looked around at the soldiers in the room. Golnar turned to Griffa with hard eyes, “She is lying. You are right, Philo. Taker her back to her cell. I will decide what to do with her later.”

“You said you would treat her well if I did everything you asked,” said Max loudly standing up. “I have done everything.”

Golnar waved Max away. “She will be fine in her cell. I won’t have her killed yet. I have other things I need your help with, young king. When I have what I need, we will talk again about Miss Keene’s arrangements.”

Philo came and grabbed Griffa and lifted her off of the couch.

“Griffa,” said Max frantically. He reached for her hand. Their fingers touched, sending a ripple of magic through Griffa’s body. Philo pulled her away.

“Max,” said Griffa as she was being forced from the room. “Stay safe, I will see you soon.”

Philo walked quickly forcing Griffa to stumble down half the steps. He took her back to her cell, dragging her most of the way. When they got to her cell, he opened the bars and threw her down hard onto the floor, slamming the bars shut.

“You know that man’s magic is not working properly,” said Griffa looking up Philo. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“What could I do about it? Making him angry will do me no good. He knows he is powerless right now. I rather like him that way. The question is, what good did it do for you to tell him?”

Griffa sat up and moved back to lean against the wall. “If he used that potion on the people of the city, it will not end well. I didn’t get to finish reading, but I believe that old blood magic elixir can come with some harsh consequences.”

“So, how does that affect me or even you, really? These new magic users are useful for now, but eventually even if they can’t do magic, what will it hurt? Those of us with old magic can rule as we should, as we always should.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“No,” said Griffa. “We were not meant to lord over people simply because we have use of magic. We were meant to help one another no matter what magical ability we have. We will only destroy the kingdom if we disregard each other.”

“Your father taught you that, didn’t he? He always was such a weak man. He even married a non-gifted woman. He was very proud of her for some reason. Then came you. He let you do whatever you please. He said you were intelligent, strong, and independent. You were actually a wild, unmannered, spoiled little girl.

“Look at you now. Do you think Renweard would be proud of you, giving yourself to that lowly protector? The Keene name used to mean something. Marcus loved you for some reason. He would have married you and taken your name. He would have wanted a child of yours to take the Quick name, but your first born would have been a Keene. He would have brought some respect back to your family. Instead you spurned him to have Ansel in your bed for a few months. Where is Ansel now? I guess he got what he wanted from you, and has left you here to die. Now the Keene name will die with you.”

“If it does, it will die with dignity. It will die standing up for what is right. You have spoiled the Quick name with your grab for power. None of our people will ever be able to think of your name without thinking of an evil traitor.”

“You think everyone back in Abscon holds your values, Gryphon? You are the leader of the Ring, and you don’t even know what a pit of vipers you lead. It’s a pity you’ll never get to go back and face them. You could ask those Ring members what really happened to your father, ask them how Renweard really died.”

“You are lying,” said Griffa vehemently. “You are poisoning me with your words.”

“Believe that if it makes you feel better.” Philo turned to leave. “Your medicine will be here soon. Be a good girl and drink it without too much struggle this time. I’ll see you soon.”

Philo left as Griffa laid down on the floor. She took as deep of breaths as she could with the rope fastened around her stomach. Was what Philo was saying true? Did it even really matter at this point? She didn’t expect she would ever be in a position to ask anyone in Abscon anything ever again. Griffa closed her eyes and waited for sleep to overtake her.

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