I had discovered the library roof last year, on a day when I’d been particularly desperate to escape from everyone and everything that was bothering me. From what I could tell, nobody ever came up here but me, and it had quickly become my secret hiding spot, the one place where I could always find a little peace and quiet, no matter how bad things got. Up here, the memory of finding my parents’ bodies didn’t bother me quite as much as it did when I was down in the main part of the library. Plus, I liked looking down through the stained glass and catching glimpses of the various library levels below. I imagined that was what the gods did, up on Mount Olympus or wherever they were.
Well, except for Sigyn, of course. She seemed to be the rare goddess who walked among us mortals. I had looked for her—as Raven—on campus today, but I hadn’t spotted her anywhere. Maybe she had already gone back to the North Carolina academy. Or maybe Sigyn could be in two places at once. She was a goddess, after all.
Ian glanced over the stone balcony and down at the quad. He blanched a little and stepped back from the ledge. “Tell me again what we’re doing up here in the middle of the night?”
“Well, right now, we’re enjoying the peace and quiet. But if we’re lucky, we might get to go for a ride.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
Instead of answering him, I moved over to a corner of the roof. Over the past year, I had spent a lot of time here, and I had decided to make myself as comfortable as possible. So I’d snuck some supplies up here, including a couple of lawn chairs, a cooler full of bottled water and snacks, and, most important, three lanterns.
I dragged the lanterns out from the corner, arranged them in a tight circle, and turned them on. Together, they formed a bright beam of light that shot up into the night sky. It was my version of a superhero beacon, but what it summoned was much, much cooler than any costumed crusader.
“What are you doing?” Ian asked. “What’s that for?”
“You’ll see.”
I went over and rested my elbows on the balcony railing. Ian glanced at the lanterns again, still wondering what they were for, then came over and joined me. We stood there, side by side, soaking up the silence. I was perfectly content to stare out over the silent, empty quad below, but Ian kept tapping his fingers on the railing, shifting on his feet, and sneaking glances at me. This went on for about five minutes before he finally opened his mouth to say something—
Two shadows suddenly fell over us, blocking out the moon and starlight. Gusts of air whistled down from the sky, tangling my hair. Ian’s head snapped up. He gasped and staggered back, and I hid another grin.
The gryphons always loved making a dramatic entrance.
Two Eir gryphons hovered above the library roof. Each one had the head of an eagle and the body of a lion, and strong, powerful wings were attached to their backs. Their fur and wings were both a beautiful bronze that gleamed in the lantern light, as though the creatures were made of polished metal instead of flesh and blood. Their eyes were also a warm, burnished bronze, while their beaks and claws were as black and shiny as ebony. In many ways, the gryphons were a lot like the chimeras, but I thought their combination of bronze fur and wings made the gryphons uniquely beautiful, unlike the chimeras with their grotesque black prowler heads, ram’s horns, and scorpion-stinger tails.
The two gryphons flapped their wings a final time and dropped down to the roof. One of them was enormous, a strong, fully grown male more than twice my size. I had named him Balder, after the Norse god of light. The other gryphon, his baby, was much smaller but still a force to be reckoned with. I had dubbed him Brono, after the god Balder’s son. The names felt appropriate to me, and the gryphons seemed to like them.
“Hey, fellas,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”
I looked at Ian, who was standing ramrod straight, shocked into stillness by the sight of the gryphons. I rolled my eyes and turned off the lanterns. Then I went over to the creatures and hugged both their necks. Their bronze fur and wings felt soft and smooth under my fingertips, and they smelled crisp and clean, like the mountain air they soared through with such ease. Brono, the baby, gently head-butted me when I drew back, and I laughed and scratched his head again.
“You’ve gotten even bigger since the last time I saw you a couple of weeks ago,” I said. “Pretty soon you’re going to be as strong as your dad.”
Brono lifted his head and twitched his wings with pride. So did Balder.
I petted both gryphons a final time, then turned to Ian. “Want to go for a ride?”
He shook his head and opened his mouth like he was going to say no. So I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms over my chest in an obvious silent challenge.
Ian scowled, realizing that I would never let him live it down if he chickened out. “Sure. Sounds like fun,” he muttered, although his tone indicated that he thought it was going to be anything but fun.
Balder hunkered down, and I climbed up onto the gryphon’s broad back and held my hand out to Ian. He stared at me, then at the gryphon. I thought he was going to back out, but he swallowed, stepped forward, took my hand, and climbed up behind me.
“What do I do with my hands?” Ian asked.
“If I were you, I would hold on to me.”
He sighed, his warm breath kissing the back of my neck, but he placed his hands on my waist. I dug my own hands and legs into the gryphon’s fur and body, getting a good grip on the creature so we wouldn’t fall off. Behind me, Ian did the same with his legs. When I was sure we were both firmly anchored in place, I stroked Balder’s head, telling him we were ready.
“And away we go,” I whispered, although I doubted that Ian heard me.
Whoosh!
We left the ground in a rush of air and wings. Behind me, Ian sucked in a surprised breath, and his hands tightened around my waist. Balder had also felt the Viking’s shock. The gryphon glanced over his shoulder at me, and I could see the laughter shining in his bronze eyes. Balder would never let us fall. Ian would figure that out sooner or later.
Balder and Brono climbed higher and higher, their wings pumping faster and faster, streaking up through the sky like rockets. In seconds, it seemed we were close enough to touch the moon and stars themselves. I laughed, but the wind tore away the happy sound.
“Isn’t this great?” I yelled.
I didn’t know if Ian heard me, but he tightened his grip on my waist. I was going to take that as a yes. Either way, it was too late for him to get off now.
We soared through the night sky. A few lights glimmered far, far below in the town of Snowline Ridge, but we quickly zoomed past them and climbed up the mountain. The evergreen forests and rocky crevices passed by in a blur, although the sharp, tangy scent of the pine trees tickled my nose, even at this height.
I closed my eyes and focused on the wind whistling in my ears, the cool, crisp air tangling my hair, the brush of Balder’s powerful wings rising and falling against my body, making me feel as light and weightless as a feather. Riding on the gryphons always gave me a sense of peace, of freedom, that I had never experienced anywhere else.