Chapter 4

four

. . .

Thaumas

The sun beat down on the rocky plateau like a merciless hammer, baking the air until it shimmered like a mirage. Sweat dampened my feathers as I circled the makeshift training ground, keen eyes tracking my student's every move.

Katarina crouched in a fighter's stance, her lithe form wrapped in close-fitting sparring leathers. Twin daggers gleamed in her hands, their Accatran steel honed to a lethal edge. Determination blazed from her emerald eyes, bright and feverish.

"Again," I commanded, my voice a raptor's bark. "Watch your footing this time. Maintain your center of gravity."

She nodded tersely, launching into the twisting kata I'd taught her. Her movements were fluid and precise, a far cry from the untrained fumbling of our first sessions. The girl learned fast, driven by the specter of the horrific fate she'd barely escaped.

But she was still too slow, too hesitant. In an actual battle, that split second of uncertainty would spell her doom.

I pounced without warning, talons extended. She yelped, barely bringing her blades up in time to deflect my slashing claws. The screech of metal on keratin set my beak on edge.

"Too slow," I growled, pressing my advantage. I buffeted her with my wings, forcing her back. "Your enemy won't telegraph their strikes, Kat. Anticipate!"

She gritted her teeth, sweat threading down her temples. "Trying," she bit out, lunging in a counterattack that I easily sidestepped. "Not exactly a lot of calls for knife fighting in my old life, you know."

I snorted, catching her wrist and twisting until she dropped one of her daggers. "Excuses are for the weak. You think Zarath's goons will go easy on you because you're new to this? They'll gut you like a fish and toss you in the nearest black hole."

She snarled, a fierce light igniting in her eyes. Wrenching free, she dove into a forward roll, scooping up her fallen blade and springing to her feet behind me in one smooth motion.

I whirled to face her, an approving rumble building in my chest. "Good. Use your agility, your speed. You'll never match an attacker's brute strength, so outmaneuver them inst-OOF!"

The breath whooshed from my lungs as Kat's foot slammed into my abdomen. She followed up with a lightning-quick strike at my vulnerable wing joint, the flat of her blade smacking the thin skin.

I stumbled back, more surprised than injured. Kat bounced on her toes, a feral grin stretching her lips. "You were saying?" Her brow lifted.

My beak twitched, suppressing an answering smile. So, the kitten has claws. Good. I enjoyed a female with spirit.

"Not bad," I allowed, shaking out my smarting wing. "But you left your flank open on that kick. If I'd been aiming to kill, your entrails would be steaming on the sand right now."

Kat made a face. "Ugh, graphic much? You know, positive reinforcement works wonders for building confidence in students. You might try sprinkling a few good jobs in with the disembowelment threats."

I rolled my eyes. "This isn't some cozy classroom back on Earth, girl. This is life or death. Coddling you will only get you killed."

Her smile faded, that haunted shadow dimming her eyes. "Yeah. I know."

I softened slightly, sheathing my razor claws. "Kat. You're doing well, truly. A few weeks ago, you could barely throw a punch without breaking your own thumbs. Now you're holding your own against a Griffin warrior, if only for a few seconds."

I cocked my head, studying her closely. "But you're still holding back, second-guessing. There's a...hesitancy in your movements. A fear of diving into the abyss."

She looked away, shoulders hunching. "I'm trying to survive, Thaumas. Not become some kind of stone-cold killer."

I closed the distance between us in two long strides, ducking my head to catch her gaze. "In this world, Kat? They're one and the same. Zarath's goons won't show you mercy. You must be prepared to do whatever it takes."

My heart clenched as she bit her lip, momentarily young and vulnerable. Gently, carefully, I brushed the back of one knuckle down her sweat-damp cheek. She shivered, leaning almost imperceptibly into my touch.

"I understand your fear," I mumbled. "You're worried that violence will change you, twist you into something ugly and unrecognizable."

I took a breath, letting my hand fall away. "I know because I've grappled with that fear myself. The first time I killed in battle...it shattered something in me. Or at least, I thought it did."

Kat's eyes were luminous, her expression rapt. "What happened?"

I shrugged, the old grief a dull ache beneath my breastbone. "My wing brother, Dax. We were just barely fledged, on a scouting mission in the Whispering Wastes. Scavengers attacked our camp - vicious, feral things with poisoned blades. They would have killed us both, but I..."

My eyes unfocused, memory bleeding into the shimmering air. The fading screams. The wet crunch of separating vertebrae. Hot blood splattering my face, my hands, my soul.

"I did what I had to," I finished roughly. "To protect my kin, my pride home. It was brutal and messy...but it was right. Those scavengers would have butchered us without a second thought. I had to put them down like the rabid beasts they were." Raptoria flooded my mind. My home forever lost, unless I find a way back.

I refocused on Kat, holding her gaze intently. "Protecting yourself, protecting innocents...that's not murder, Kat. That's justice. Righteous violence in the face of evil is a badge of honor, not a stain on your soul."

She searched my face for a long, charged moment. I let her see my certainty, my hard-won conviction.

"I want to believe that," she said at last, her voice small. "But I look at someone like Zarath, thriving on pain and cruelty... What if I become like him? What if that darkness is inside me, too?"

My wings flared, mantling over us both instinctively. "Never," I growled, the vehemence in my voice startling us both. "Kat, you have one of the brightest, most compassionate spirits I've ever encountered. Experiencing hardship and learning to defend yourself will only make that light shine brighter. You could never be anything like that sadistic worm, not if you lived a thousand lifetimes."

A trembling smile touched her lips. "You really believe that, don't you? Even though you think you know me?"

"I know enough," I said firmly. "I see your true colors, Katarina Mayberry. Believe me, evil isn't even in the palette."

She huffed a laugh, swiping at suspiciously shiny eyes. "Careful, Big Bird. That sounded dangerously close to a compliment. Wouldn't want to tarnish that badass rep of yours."

I grinned, about to shoot back a playful retort, when an ominous buzz shivered through the air between us. I frowned, tipping my head to catch the sound better.

Kat tensed, gripping her blades tighter. "What is it?"

The buzz crescendoed, resolving into the unmistakable whine of approaching hover engines. A lot of them.

"Down!" I barked, already moving. I tackled Kat around the waist, bearing us both to the ground just as a hail of plasma bolts raked the plateau. The super heated air sizzled over our prone bodies, making my feathers smoke.

Kat gasped beneath me, eyes wide and frightened. "Thaumas, what the hell- "

"Zarath," I snarled, fury and fear warring in my gut. "He's found us."

No sooner had the words left my beak than a dozen armored hovercrafts crested the stony ridge, disgorging a small army of heavily armed thugs. They ran the gamut from gap-toothed Hyraxian pirates to coldly efficient Psyrian mercenaries, all bristling with enough illegal weapons to level a small moon.

At their head strode a ghoulishly pale humanoid clad in funerary black, a cruel smirk twisting his cadaverous features. Rage boiled up in my throat at the sight.

Zylo Vex. Zarath's right-hand man and chief enforcer. Rumor had it the sadistic freak actually got off on the suffering of the "chattel" he helped enslave. Trafficking wasn't just a job to Vex - it was a passion.

And now this walking nightmare had my Kat in his sights. Over my dead, fucking body.

I surged to my feet, shoving Kat behind me. "Stay back," I warned her, my voice guttural with fury. "Let me handle this."

"Well, well," Vex called out, his voice a nasal whine that set my teeth on edge. "The elusive Miss Mayberry and her pet feather duster. Imagine my surprise when I heard you two mates had shacked up on this pitiful dungheap. Naughty little slaves, running away from home."

"Katarina is no slave," I spat, wings half flaring in challenge. "She's under MY protection, scum. You want her, you go through me."

Vex cackled, the sound crawling over my skin like centipedes. "Oh, I'm counting on it, beaky. Zarath was VERY clear - bring back the blonde bitch...and mount that overgrown vulture's head on his wall."

He smirked, gunslinging a wicked-looking photon rifle from his shoulder. "I'll be sure to leave that bit about going through you on your tombstone."

Kat sucked in a sharp breath behind me. I reached back blindly, finding her hand and squeezing it once in silent reassurance. "As long as you include how pathetically you begged for your life first, you prancing gobshite," I called to Vex, baring my talons.

The merc leader's face mottled an unlovely puce. "Cute. Let's see how sassy you are with a few new holes in that puffed-up chest. Ventilate him, boys!"

As one, the wall of thugs raised their weapons and opened fire. The air came alive with the scream of plasma and the stink of ozone.

I shoved Kat to the side, roaring loud enough to shake the stones. "Run, you bloody fool!"

Then I charged straight into the hailstorm, talons flashing.

Time did that funny stuttering thing it always does in the thick of battle. I was dimly aware of Kat scrambling for the dubious cover of the boulders ringing the plateau. A few mercs peeled off to pursue her, but the bulk of them focused on the eight-foot killing machine barreling into their midst.

Good. The more of these bastards I could keep occupied, the better Kat's chances.

I hit their front line like a meteor, scattering bodies like ninepins. Plasma bolts sizzled past my head as I spun and slashed, my fighting claws opening throats and bellies with ruthless efficiency. Wet red mist filled the air, painting my feathers crimson.

"SHOOT HIM, YOU IDIOTS!" Vex screamed from the rear, his sallow face twisted in rage. "HE'S JUST ONE FUCKING BIRD!"

I grinned savagely, gore dripping from my beak. "Wrong!. I'm a griffin."

I lunged for the nearest knot of mercs, my wings giving me the momentum of a runaway grav-train. Bones crunched and blasters wailed as I plowed through them like a force of nature.

On some distant level, I knew I was being reckless, leaving myself open to counterattack. If the mercs got their shit together, used their superior numbers to box me in, I was a dead griffin.

But the cold, calculating part of me didn't care. All that mattered was buying Kat time to get away, even if it cost me my life.

The two halves of me, the warrior and the lovesick fool, were in perfect agreement as I fought like a Griffin possessed. I was a whirlwind of talons and fury, painting the stones red as I?—

PAIN.

Searing, blinding, world-ending PAIN exploded in my chest. I staggered, my wings faltering, as I looked down at the smoking hole punched clean through my torso.

"NO!" Kat's scream cut through the fog, raw and agonized. I tried to turn, to call out to her, but my beak wouldn't work. Blood bubbled up my throat instead of words.

The last thing I saw as I crashed to my knees was Kat, my fierce, beautiful warrior woman, standing on an outcropping with murder in her eyes and my name on her lips.

Then the darkness took me, and I knew no more.