A Fork of Paths
Page 51
Sensing my approach, the griffin turned around and gazed down at me. I furrowed my brows, gesturing to my clothes and the food. “Did you get these for me?”
He nodded.
My eyes widened, and I was rendered speechless. I wondered where he’d found them… and yet again I found myself wondering, Why would he do this for me?
“Thank you,” I said, taken aback, yet immensely grateful at the same time.
I was feeling starved. I stooped down and scooped up one of the bars, unwrapping it and finishing it within a few mouthfuls. As bland as it tasted, I couldn’t deny it was filling. Cracking open one of the bottles and taking a swig of water, I cleared my throat, unsure of what to do or say next. I looked out at the snowcapped landscape, admiring its beauty as it shimmered in the morning sun. I wondered what time it was. But most of all I wondered, What now?
I turned my focus back on the griffin.
“I need to leave,” I said, still feeling slightly crazy to be having a one-way conversation with an animal. “I live on an island known as The Shade. I need to return there.”
The moment I mentioned the island, he began nodding vigorously. I paused, my mouth agape. “You… You know about The Shade?”
Again he nodded.
Perhaps I ought not be so surprised. The Shade was well-known among supernatural creatures, both in the human realm as well as in the supernatural dimension. I just hadn’t expected this… thing to be so cognizant.
Then a thought struck me. What if this griffin has been sent from The Shade to rescue me? Maybe he’s an ally, and they sent him to find me. What other explanation could there possibly be for his not only rescuing me, but also looking after me so well?
Within an instant, I warmed to the beast.
“Were you sent by someone in The Shade?”
At this, he paused and tilted his head to the side, as if he was perhaps unsure of my question or how to answer.
“Do you know where The Shade is?”
He nodded again.
“Will you take me there?”
He screeched, still moving his head up and down. He threw his head over his shoulder, as if indicating to the world outside. And then his legs folded beneath him and he sank to the ground. His gaze was expectant. He had lowered himself for me to climb onto his back.
Still gaping at him, barely daring to believe that I was understanding the situation rightly, I snatched up the bag of supplies from the ground and, tightening my coat around me, swung onto his back. Planting my legs on either side of him, I placed the bag between my thighs.
Is he really going to take me home?
Home. It was strange that I called The Shade my home when I had hardly spent any time there. And yet it felt more like home than New York ever had.
The griffin’s wings beat, and he launched into the air. With the heat of his body flowing into me, as well as the ski clothes I was wearing, I felt shielded from the cold. The garments seemed to be of high quality, and once I pulled the hood over my head to protect my ears and the sides of my face, even the wind didn’t bother me much.
I gripped the back of his neck tighter as we flew faster. The hunters’ facility was in view. Though I was curious to see more of that place from a bird’s-eye perspective, I still felt so traumatized by the experience that I’d had there—what they’d done to me, what I feared they might have taken from me—that I preferred to keep my eyes straight ahead and ignore their sprawling lair of horrors.
Then I caught sight of the ocean in the distance. I didn’t know how long it would take us to reach The Shade, or how many thousands of miles we were away from it, but as we arrived at the shoreline and launched over the glistening waves, I didn’t feel far away from it any more. I had faith in this griffin—my unexpected savior and protector—and I trusted that it was only a matter of time before I was reunited with my family… And maybe, just maybe, Ben might have returned home in my absence.
Patting the side of the griffin’s head fondly, I couldn’t help but whisper, “Thank you.”
River
The journey didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped. As we soared over the waves with supernatural speed, I got a hunch that the griffin didn’t know exactly where he was going after all. He seemed to fly God knew how many miles in one direction, only to turn back on himself and zig-zag in the other. I could only hope that the ocean beneath us was indeed the Pacific Ocean, for I didn’t even know for sure where the hunters’ lair had been located.
As the hours turned into days, I became increasingly grateful that the creature had thought to procure some food and water for me for the journey, and my only hope that we were headed at least roughly in the right direction came from the increasingly mild temperature. With the heat of the griffin’s body seeping into me, combined with my heavy-duty clothing and the sun overhead, I found myself sweating like a pig and I had to discard the ski clothes in favor of my pajamas alone.
“How much longer?” I wondered out loud several times during our flight, even though I knew my companion couldn’t answer. He only grunted.
By the third day, I’d finished all the energy bars, but thankfully not all the drinking water. As a half-blood, it was lucky that I didn’t need to consume as much and I seemed to be able to bear hunger better than a human.
My impatience and worry satiated a little when I finally spied an island in the distance. A small one. But amidst the endless water, it was a welcome sight.
Then, half a day later, a larger landmass loomed on the horizon. A much larger landmass. Could this be… Hawaii? I hardly dared even hope for it, yet it looked like it could be. Moving closer to the shore, I could better make out the island—a landscape of rugged cliffs and golden beaches. As we continued to fly around its border, I began to notice more developed areas, marked by winding roads and towering skyscrapers.
He nodded.
My eyes widened, and I was rendered speechless. I wondered where he’d found them… and yet again I found myself wondering, Why would he do this for me?
“Thank you,” I said, taken aback, yet immensely grateful at the same time.
I was feeling starved. I stooped down and scooped up one of the bars, unwrapping it and finishing it within a few mouthfuls. As bland as it tasted, I couldn’t deny it was filling. Cracking open one of the bottles and taking a swig of water, I cleared my throat, unsure of what to do or say next. I looked out at the snowcapped landscape, admiring its beauty as it shimmered in the morning sun. I wondered what time it was. But most of all I wondered, What now?
I turned my focus back on the griffin.
“I need to leave,” I said, still feeling slightly crazy to be having a one-way conversation with an animal. “I live on an island known as The Shade. I need to return there.”
The moment I mentioned the island, he began nodding vigorously. I paused, my mouth agape. “You… You know about The Shade?”
Again he nodded.
Perhaps I ought not be so surprised. The Shade was well-known among supernatural creatures, both in the human realm as well as in the supernatural dimension. I just hadn’t expected this… thing to be so cognizant.
Then a thought struck me. What if this griffin has been sent from The Shade to rescue me? Maybe he’s an ally, and they sent him to find me. What other explanation could there possibly be for his not only rescuing me, but also looking after me so well?
Within an instant, I warmed to the beast.
“Were you sent by someone in The Shade?”
At this, he paused and tilted his head to the side, as if he was perhaps unsure of my question or how to answer.
“Do you know where The Shade is?”
He nodded again.
“Will you take me there?”
He screeched, still moving his head up and down. He threw his head over his shoulder, as if indicating to the world outside. And then his legs folded beneath him and he sank to the ground. His gaze was expectant. He had lowered himself for me to climb onto his back.
Still gaping at him, barely daring to believe that I was understanding the situation rightly, I snatched up the bag of supplies from the ground and, tightening my coat around me, swung onto his back. Planting my legs on either side of him, I placed the bag between my thighs.
Is he really going to take me home?
Home. It was strange that I called The Shade my home when I had hardly spent any time there. And yet it felt more like home than New York ever had.
The griffin’s wings beat, and he launched into the air. With the heat of his body flowing into me, as well as the ski clothes I was wearing, I felt shielded from the cold. The garments seemed to be of high quality, and once I pulled the hood over my head to protect my ears and the sides of my face, even the wind didn’t bother me much.
I gripped the back of his neck tighter as we flew faster. The hunters’ facility was in view. Though I was curious to see more of that place from a bird’s-eye perspective, I still felt so traumatized by the experience that I’d had there—what they’d done to me, what I feared they might have taken from me—that I preferred to keep my eyes straight ahead and ignore their sprawling lair of horrors.
Then I caught sight of the ocean in the distance. I didn’t know how long it would take us to reach The Shade, or how many thousands of miles we were away from it, but as we arrived at the shoreline and launched over the glistening waves, I didn’t feel far away from it any more. I had faith in this griffin—my unexpected savior and protector—and I trusted that it was only a matter of time before I was reunited with my family… And maybe, just maybe, Ben might have returned home in my absence.
Patting the side of the griffin’s head fondly, I couldn’t help but whisper, “Thank you.”
River
The journey didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped. As we soared over the waves with supernatural speed, I got a hunch that the griffin didn’t know exactly where he was going after all. He seemed to fly God knew how many miles in one direction, only to turn back on himself and zig-zag in the other. I could only hope that the ocean beneath us was indeed the Pacific Ocean, for I didn’t even know for sure where the hunters’ lair had been located.
As the hours turned into days, I became increasingly grateful that the creature had thought to procure some food and water for me for the journey, and my only hope that we were headed at least roughly in the right direction came from the increasingly mild temperature. With the heat of the griffin’s body seeping into me, combined with my heavy-duty clothing and the sun overhead, I found myself sweating like a pig and I had to discard the ski clothes in favor of my pajamas alone.
“How much longer?” I wondered out loud several times during our flight, even though I knew my companion couldn’t answer. He only grunted.
By the third day, I’d finished all the energy bars, but thankfully not all the drinking water. As a half-blood, it was lucky that I didn’t need to consume as much and I seemed to be able to bear hunger better than a human.
My impatience and worry satiated a little when I finally spied an island in the distance. A small one. But amidst the endless water, it was a welcome sight.
Then, half a day later, a larger landmass loomed on the horizon. A much larger landmass. Could this be… Hawaii? I hardly dared even hope for it, yet it looked like it could be. Moving closer to the shore, I could better make out the island—a landscape of rugged cliffs and golden beaches. As we continued to fly around its border, I began to notice more developed areas, marked by winding roads and towering skyscrapers.
