When all the soldiers, cooks, hostlers, menders, laborers, and smiths were arrayed before him, he said, “We live in interesting times, where legends once again walk the lands. It was not so long ago Eletians had fallen into myth, only to reappear after hundreds of years. And we all know what lurks beyond the wall. Now, I have spoken to you before of the gryphon that has been inhabiting the tower. Today we release him so perhaps he may find a mate and bring her back. Kittens could be raised to protect the towers from within.”
He paused, taking in the skeptical expressions on the faces around him. “I know it sounds mad, but such are the times we live in. I want you to meet Mister Whiskers, er, the gryphon. I want you to see him so he can come to no ah-ah-ah—” He sneezed explosively. When he blew his nose, he noticed everyone was gazing at the ground near his feet.
“Meep.”
There sat the fearsome Mister Whiskers in the snow, wearing his house cat form, his orange-striped tail wrapped around his feet. He looked at his incredulous audience with curiosity.
“Yes, this is, uh, the gryphon,” Alton said. “Mister Whiskers, would you change so everyone can see your true form?”
The cat just stared back at him. Members of his audience started to snicker and laugh.
“Please?” Alton asked, wondering if the cat knew just how ridiculous this was making him look.
“Meep?”
Would he have to grovel?
“You don’t want them to fill you with arrows when you return in your true form, do you? They won’t know it’s you.”
The cat blinked, then before his eyes, enlarged, elongated, transformed. His snout turned into a beak, and feathers replaced the fur on his head. His orange coat grew more tawny and wings sprouted from his back. He flapped them, then tucked them to his sides. He was even more fearsome and large than Alton remembered. The crowd had stepped back murmuring in consternation. Yes, they had seen a few “things” while stationed at the wall, but this was certainly something new occurring right before their eyes. Alton did not blame them for their disquiet.
“This is Mister Whiskers’ true form,” he said. “You are not to target him, or any other gryphon that may return with him. Is this understood?”
There was a jumble of uncertain Yes, m’lords and Aye, sirs. Then, to his surprise, Leese, the encampment’s chief mender, came forward for a closer look.
“Hello, Mister Whiskers,” she said. “You are a magnificent creature, aren’t you.”
Whiskers curved his neck as though inviting closer inspection. She stepped up to him and started to scratch his neck where fur met feather. Thunderous purrs rumbled out of him and vibrated the ground.
“What a nice kitty, er, gryphon,” Leese said, her expression one of delight. “You are handsome.” The crowd watched in awe, and, if anything, the purrs only increased in intensity.
Alton cleared his throat. “Mister Whiskers has a mission, don’t you, Mister Whiskers.”
The gryphon glared at him with his sharp eagle’s eyes. He was enjoying Leese’s attention.
“Leese,” Alton whispered, “mission.”
“Oh, of course.” She scratched Mister Whiskers beneath the chin, so close to his raptor’s beak that Alton felt queasy; then she returned to her place with the rest of the crowd. “Good-bye, Mister Whiskers.”
The gryphon ruffled his feathers, gave Alton another look, then spread his wings, which knocked Alton over into a snowdrift. By the time Alton had righted himself, Mister Whiskers had launched into the air, the downbeats of his amazing wings gusting hats off heads and tousling hair. His shadow glided over them. For all his size, he gracefully arrowed high into the sky and grew smaller and smaller. He circled once, then twice, before darting northwestward.
Alton had never thought to see the like. “And that is Mister Whiskers,” he concluded lamely.
Soon the assembled began to disperse, but Leese joined him, still looking to the sky. “I wonder if they lay eggs, or have live births.”
“I’ve no idea,” Alton replied.
Leese smiled. “Maybe we’ll find out if his mission is successful. Professional curiosity, of course, and I do love kittens.”
In addition to caring for human patients, Leese often treated the four-legged variety, as well.
“Let’s hope this all works.”
• • •
Alton reentered the tower to find Merdigen dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. Was the cantankerous great mage crying?
“So, it is done?” Merdigen asked.
Alton nodded.
“It is not a safe world out there,” Merdigen said. “So many dangers. People kill what they do not understand.”
It was true, of course. “If anyone attempts it, it won’t be anyone from our encampments or the castle.”
“There are a lot of people between here and there, and beyond.”
“I think,” Alton said, surprised to hear himself trying to comfort the mage, “that Mister Whiskers will use his best judgment as to whether or not he will approach within arrow range of human habitation.”
“Yes, of course, I did explain it to him, but he hasn’t been out in the world much.”
Everyone had to go out into the world sometime, Alton thought, even if the ones who loved them wanted to keep them safely home.
FAREWELLS
For an ordinary message errand, two days of preparation time was an overabundance, but since this was not exactly a message errand, but a journey into wild country, two days seemed rather inadequate to acquire all the supplies necessary. It was still winter and the weather would be fickle as they continued toward spring, so Karigan erred on the side of caution packing extra layers of clothing. They’d have a pack pony with them, specially chosen by Hep. The pony would be burdened with their gear and food supplies.