12. Blindly Trusting a Survivor #2
Then she extended the blade with the pointy end up and grew serious. “And if you ever need to use this, don’t hesitate.”
I met her eyes in question.
She replied in a low voice, “Griffon won’t know that you have these if you don’t show him.”
There was concern in her eyes. I knew Griffon was a dangerous man. He was sullen and cold, and even cruel at times. But would he try to hurt me?
“I don’t think he…”
“He’s not a good man,” she interrupted.
I swallowed my denial. A part of me suspected that all along. Knew that I had aligned myself with someone I might not have sided with if I had other choices, or if I had another way to escape my fate.
“Tell me what you know about him,” I pleaded, desperately needing more answers.
She stopped. “Do you not know who he is?”
“Not really. He doesn’t say much about himself.” Understatement of the century. The memory of him smashing off a chunk of the boat and then berating me was enough to convince me to avoid the subject for a while.
She hesitated for a moment, a question in her eyes. I guess it made little sense to travel with a complete stranger. When you look at it that way, stars above, wise choices may not be my forte.
I guess she decided not to press the issue and answered my question instead.
“He’s the queen’s assassin, Wren. He has killed.
Many people. Even innocent ones. Anyone that the queen orders him to kill, and then anyone that impedes that.
It is said that life matters very little to him. That he relishes ending it.”
It hit me like a cold splash of water. I had to stop myself from physically recoiling at her words.
Puzzle pieces clicked into place. The weapons.
Charis’ question about who Griffon was after.
His reluctance to talk about himself. His general aura of ‘I’ve seen some things and done worse.
’ The weight of the truth pressed down, freezing the air in my lungs.
“Do you know what his ember is?” I struggled to push the words out.
“Strength and speed, I would assume. There are rumors he has taken on a score of trained men and still walked away the victor.”
How fast did he have to move to catch me as I fell out that window—and with one hand, for that matter? I pictured him scaling the cliff as if he were climbing a simple ladder. He seemed to move faster than the soldiers during the sword fight.
“Why do you owe him?”
Straightening, she looked away.
“There has to be some reason you allowed us to stay here.”
She sighed. “Griffon learned I was Sideri, and obviously not in the queen’s service. He not only kept it to himself, he made sure I evaded detection entirely. He could’ve turned me in. It’s what he was supposed to do.”
“So he saved you from being discovered?”
She looked at me with what I could only guess was pity. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s a killer and will always be a killer.”
“I’m not denying that.” And yet, there was that look in his eyes back on the boat. There was pain there. Was he a victim as well as the villain? I pursed my lips at my naivety. Maybe I should be smart and think twice about blindly trusting a survivor until I learn what they did to survive.
I held up the barrettes between us, the engraved metal catching the lamplight. “Do you really think he would hurt me? I mean, if he did that for you…”
Gannet's expression didn't soften. “I don't know what he'll do, Wren.
That's the problem. He's unpredictable. And just because he chose mercy once doesn't mean he'll choose it again.” She shook her head. “One moment of goodwill doesn’t change who he is. I’ll be happy when he is out from under my roof.”
There were still pieces that didn’t fit into the picture she painted, though. Griffon was running. He took me with him. He saved my life. Assassins didn’t typically do that, did they? I really needed to read more books about assassins.
Was he just a bad person who did good things once in a while? Or a good person…who sometimes killed people. Ugh, I cringed internally. Both sounded like the setup to a very depressing philosophical debate.
It made little sense, especially when there was an example of his one moment of goodwill sitting right in front of me. Gannet re-wrapped the lanolin soap and gathered her supplies.
“What could your ember be that you can influence whales?”
She stood and walked over to the porthole and stared at the sea for a moment before she answered.
“I can communicate with some of the sea creatures.”
“Some of them? Which ones?” My curiosity perked up like a dog hearing a dinner bell.
She turned back to me then. “The large predators.”
“You’re a beast singer.” Wow. “You can communicate with sharks, too?”
“Yes.”
“And…sea serpents?”
She nodded.
I lowered my voice and leaned forward. “I saw one—a sea serpent—outside the window in the bathing room.”
Her mouth lifted at the corners. “She visits now and then.”
My eyes popped. But there was no fear in Gannet’s smile. Maybe the wreckage had nothing to do with it. Or…her. “People think she’s behind shipwrecks just north of here.”
She tilted her head, gauging my reaction. “They get too close to her eggs.”
Oh…so it was her. And to think, only a pane of glass separated us. Maybe both my naivety and my curiosity will get me killed one day. I swallowed at the thought.
“You’re not afraid of her? What if she attacks Inframare?”
Gannet’s smile softened. “We pose no threat to her.”
“But what about those ships? Isn’t she dangerous?”