Princess Willowyn's Arc

Chapter 27 of 70

Willowyn poked the fire and turned the last of the fish over the flames. Sparks rose into the dark. She was warm at last, the minx curled in her lap, the griffin resting behind her. Then a crash rolled across the water. A few cold drops struck her face. She looked up. Heavy clouds pushed in over the sea, and the wind bent the fire flat. "A storm," Willowyn said. "Of course a storm rolls in the moment we get warm." Raven was already up. The witch scooped her green fox off the sand and pressed it under her cape. A year of training together had taught Willowyn to trust that speed. When Raven moved without speaking, it meant there was no time to speak. "We need shelter," Raven said. "The camp won't hold. The animals can't sit in this." Another drop hit, then ten more. Sand darkened around the fire. Willowyn stood and looked down the beach, but she saw only open shore and rising surf. Nothing to crawl under. She grabbed her cloak from the stone. "Then we find it from the air," Willowyn said. "Hop on. We fly the beach until we see a way in." Raven climbed up behind her, fox still tucked in the cape. Willowyn set the minx inside her own cloak against her chest. She pulled the reins. The griffin spread its white wings and pushed off the wet sand. Rain came down hard now. It stung Willowyn's cheeks and ran into her eyes. She kept the griffin low and steered along the cliffs above the beach. Wind shoved the great beast sideways. Willowyn dragged a thread of rain from the air with her mind and swept it clear of her face, holding it steady the way Raven had drilled into her. "There," Raven said, close to her ear. She pointed at the rock wall. A dark gap split the cliff. A cave, wide enough for the griffin. Willowyn turned the reins and brought them down toward it. The griffin's claws found stone. They ducked under the ledge as thunder cracked behind them. Inside, the roar of the storm dropped away. Willowyn set the minx on dry rock. Raven let her fox down, and it shook the wet from its green coat. The griffin folded its wings and lay against the far wall, warm and safe. Willowyn caught her breath and pressed her wet hair back.