Chapter One

A Chance Meeting

Dawn broke warm and wet, the world seeming to sparkle from the thousand myriad drops scattered about like broken jewels. A griffin, soaked through and shivering, slept beside a boy who huddled close to her sodden feathers. The bandage around his arm was stained purest red, and thin trickles of dried blood traced his skin down to his fingertips.

A soft breeze, almost a mockery after the fierce gales of the night before, wound its way about the sleepers. The boy shuddered, the griffin yawned, and they both awoke.

Grake sat up and gasped with pain. The movement broke the scab and fresh blood dribbled down his wrist. Kanling squawked in sympathy. She put a paw on his shoulder, forcing him back down to the ground. Her cruel beak gently ripped another strip from his shirt, which was little better than a rag now. Nimble fingered, monkey-Kanling replaced the old bandage with the new, tying it firm. Grake cried out as the cloth tightened, eyes closed and teeth set.

"I know it hurts Grake, I know." Kanling soothed, "I can feel it too. But it must be done or you will bleed to death."

Grake nodded his head in understanding. "Are we away?"

"Aye, indeed we are. But we best find a town and get your arm set. It's broke bad."

"I noticed." The boy smiled slightly, before the pain set him wincing again. Kanling, horse formed, licked his forehead, then knelt beside him.

"Climb aboard. We had best be off." With a grunt of pain, the boy grasped his daemon's mane, and with not a little difficulty, hauled his protesting body onto her broad back. Every muscle ached, from the wild ride, from the fall, from the loss of blood. Kanling got to her feet as gently as possible, and walked off down the still muddy road, across the bridge over the still frothing river, and into the rain soaked horizon.

Noon came and went, the bright sun bathing the world in its warmth, but there was still no sign of a town. Kanling limped across muddy fields, through flooded pastures long deserted, too tired and pain-wracked to be bothered by the half wild cows that snorted and ran at the sight of her. Grake lay in a stupor against her side, his breathing shallow and ragged. His wound had started bleeding again, and he moaned whenever the road grew rough and his arm bouncedupon his daemon's withers. Both of their eyes were glazed with pain and fatigue, and hunger, though neither of them recognized it. The small pack of food had been lost in the night's wild scramble.

So neither of them noticed when the curvingdirt path turned to gravel,whenthe forgotten and downtrodden pastures became bright and well-groomed paddocks, fat horses and cows and sheep grazing contentedly on the sweet grass.

Grake woke from his half daze with a start. His grip on Kanlings mane was slack, and he found himself sliding down her side towards the ground. Blood oozed along his fingers, making them sticky and slick.Before he could right himself, a loud, rattling contraption roared its way along the road toward the pair. Kanling jumped sideways off the road as the approachingthing... wound its way nearer to them, crashing along at an alarming speed. That one jump was all that was needed to send Grake tumbling again to the ground. Pain collided through him as helanded on his bad arm, and he screamed in agony. It was too intense. He rolled to one side and retched. This accomplished him nothing but aburning pain in his stomach. He moaned as he lay there, panting.

The man in the car screechedto a stop and leapt from his seat. He wasa tall, imposing figure, with a square jaw and handsome dark hair. He had been utterly surprised at seeing a boy riding a horse with no saddle or bridle down this small country lane. Either he was a magnificent rider, or...the thought popped unbiddeninto his head. But no, that was impossible. Shrugging away his doubts, he hurried over to the boy's side.

It was obvious that he was injured, his right arm was drenched in blood and he lay quitestill. Flashing black hooves stopped the man from approaching any closer. The horse pinned its ears back, teeth bared, and snorted outraged defiance at him. The man turned and spokesoothingly to the black beast, hand outstretched invitingly. The horse shied away from his touch, and again the nagging doubt tugged at his mind. Moving slowly, so as not to alarm the equine any further, he knelt down by the boy.

"Easy lad. I'm not going to hurt you."The man lifted the boy's shoulders gently into his lap, the horse prancing about him nervously. "What's your name, son?"

"G-Grake, sir." Grake whispered, eyes wide with fear.

"No need to be afraid Grake, I won't hurt you, I promise."

"Kanling thinks you might."

"Is Kanling the horse?" The man asked softly, nerves on edge.

Grake nodded slightly. "She says we can't trust you. You ain't got a daemon."

The man gasped with shock. The little nagging thoughts at the back of his mind were accurate. But-but, it was impossible!Completely impossible.

Grake flinched away from the man's touch. "Don't worry, Grake," The man said, then turned to look at the horse, "Kanling. I do have a daemon." And at his words a large, shadow colored cat stepped delicately out of the still humming car by the road.

The boy relaxedvisably, andthe horse stopped her nervous prancing. Dog-formed, Kanling crawled toGrake's side, licking his cheek encouragingly. Then she turned to the man. "Who are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"I?" Echoed the dark haired man. "I am Will Parry."