Thoma laughed at him. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“What?” Maggie asked, coming down the stairs. Her hair loose, her curls hung almost to her waist. The simple dress fit her perfectly. She had never looked so beautiful. Her gaze shifted, catching him staring. Griffin dropped the hammer on his foot.
He winced while Jori laughed, enjoying Griffin’s mortification.
“Oh, well, Griffin bet me Oak would last ten minutes with the draignoch. He only made it sixty seconds. Slower than a turtle, that one. A good swat of the tail sent him flying halfway back to the lift. He ran the rest of the way, holding his ribs. It was the yellow one, big, fast. Almost had him. Oak curled into a ball and they hauled him out.” Thoma shook his head, holding his hand out.
Griffin picked the hammer up and slapped it into his palm, drawing a satisfying seized breath from Thoma. “I’ll have to owe you.”
Maggie tossed the tunic and trousers into the fire. “No evidence, although I doubt we’ll make it back before the prince has checked on my injured ankle. I suppose we should go.”
Griffin smiled at the disappointment in her voice. He felt it too. Here, in this tavern, they were among friends, and prying eyes were off. Griffin could let his guard down, be more himself. Maggie had been right about that.
“Thoma, can I borrow the horse? I’ll have Bradyn get it back before sunrise tomorrow.”
Thoma didn’t look happy. “You better. If I have to carry the kegs on my back from the far cellars, you’ll be paying me twice what you lost in the bet.”
The door opened. Several men from the tanner entered. At the sight of Griffin, they extended hands in greeting, offering congratulations.
“What for?” Maggie asked.
“I won the arrow competition today.”
“Ah! He’s left the best part out. He split that ruddy Northman’s arrow. The big one,” one of them said.
“Malcolm must be unhappy,” Maggie laughed.
“The king was pleased; especially after yesterday, that’s really all that mattered,” Griffin explained. “I was in a hurry to leave. There was no time for humiliation on the dais.”
Maggie smirked, her brow twitching. “I suppose then I should do headstrong and foolish things for the rest of the tournament.”
A few minutes later, Maggie rode holding on to Griffin’s waist, making it difficult to think. He managed to break the workhorse into a canter for a good portion of the ride through the Middle. Neither spoke much. Griffin relived every moment of what he’d seen, stumbling headfirst into the realization that Rendicryss could fly.
By the time they reached the stables, it was midafternoon. The place was empty at this time, horses out for exercise or work. Griffin pulled into a stall. He dismounted and helped Maggie down, then removed the saddle, setting it on the ground in the corner. Bradyn would have to ride him back down after the feast. His list of favors owed to him had grown tenfold in recent days because of Maggie.
“We should return to the castle separately,” she said.
“Can you find a good lie?”
“No, but I can come up with one that will leave Jori guessing. My ankle needed tending. I slipped on wet stone. Dress tore. Someone loaned me a new one.”
It wasn’t horrible. “Maggie, what I saw, where was that? And how did the dragon show me?”
“I’m not entirely sure on either account. How can I do what I do? My mother said she gave me my gifts to bring me out of the forest. So returning there is not my destiny.” She crossed her arms. “But then she spoke of bringing hope or destruction. Tall orders and vast extremes. Not that I could accomplish either anyway. I don’t know how to control my abilities. You were right. I meant to break open the gate. I barely cracked the wall, twenty feet away.” Her steely gaze lifted to Griffin’s. “Rendicryss decided to trust you. I want you to know I trust you too, Griffin.” She took his hands in hers, threading her tiny fingers through his. His heart skipped several beats. “I don’t know anything about destinies, but what I do know is that I have to free Rendicryss before she’s hurt or worse in that horrible arena. And I can’t do that, not without help.”
He swallowed the terror attempting to choke him and nodded. “And then you’ll try and leave with her.”
It wasn’t a question because he knew the answer.
She nodded all the same.
He refused to say he wanted to go with her, because it was a ridiculous notion, wasn’t it? Would Maggie even want him? She hated him, didn’t she? Her fingers closed around his said otherwise. And Thoma saw through him with ease. Griffin liked Maggie. Could he maybe even love her? One thing was for sure, he knew he wanted to help her however he could.
“What you were doing to the Phantombronze affected it, but it wasn’t enough. The one thing I’ve learned after training to use all sorts of weapons is that all of them took time and practice.”
“You’ll help me?”
“If you’ll let me, I’d be honored to.” Griffin conjured a plan. “I’ll come to your room tonight, after dinner. Bolt the door and get rid of Petal. In the reverse order . . .” He laughed nervously.
Maggie inched closer, neck craned, so close he could feel her warm breath tickling his chin.
“Maggie,” he said, his voice straining. “I really . . .”
She smiled. “Okay.”
“Good . . .” And then he kissed her.
Softly at first, a feather dusting, then harder.
Hungrier.
He could tell she wasn’t completely innocent to kisses. He wasn’t either. Those same girls in the Middle and Bottom who winced at the sight of his scarred face sought him out night after night in the tavern after he won his title. None stuck out as special.
Not like this.
He cradled her head, slowly pressing his hand against the small of her back until she was flush against him. Griffin didn’t want to stop, but time had long since run out.
He pulled back, regretting it. “We have to get to the palace, Maggie.”
“I know.” She kissed him again. “But I truly wish we didn’t.”
A last embrace, and Griffin was forced to let her go. They parted, both breathless, both grinning like idiots.
He let her leave first. He would wait several minutes, then enter through the kitchens.
As Griffin walked out, he looked up—for the moon. He couldn’t believe what had transpired. Or how much he had changed in the short time since Maggie came through the gates of the city.
Hope or destruction. Two extremes. With both healing and explosive powers, Maggie was capable of either. He was putting all his faith in her, with hope that he made the right decision. Because whether he intended to or not, he had made himself the only thing standing between the king and Jori—and the thing they wanted most of all.
Magic.
Fifteen
Maggie
Footsteps trailed behind me as soon as I left the stables. Shushing though the paddock of tall grasses. Skating on pebbles dumped on the muddy road. But no matter how many times I turned around, whoever it was hid. If they wanted to try to hurt me, capture, confront me, they had ample opportunity. I was in no mood for whatever game he or she or it was playing. My lie firmly in my pocket, I limped as fast as I could, hoping it was the correct ankle. Griffin’s kisses had left me wanting more.