Chapter Thirty-One

 

Percival

Now

That gryphon-loving son of a bitch was winning.

Percival had no idea how such a thing could be possible.  Midas was Bad.  Born less and wrong.  A criminal, who sided with those disgusting gryphon over his own people.  How could he possibly withstand the formula?  It was impossible.  No one else had ever withstood it.  He had to be doing something underhanded and evil.

Fucking monster.

Percival’s eyes narrowed in fury.

No matter.  If Midas wouldn’t touch the girl, he would have the girl touch Midas.  Avalon was Bad.  He could control her easily enough, even if the Kingpin was someone resisting.  Percival pressed the intercom button, which was awkward considering his arms were both in casts.  “Avalon, go to him and…”

“No!”  Midas roared knowing what he was about to say.

“Is okay, Daddy.”  Avalon chirped. “We can touch now.  You’s all better, so…”  She stopped short, her eyes lighting up.  “Yay!  Trystan’s here!”

What?

Percival hesitated, the gryphon’s name cutting through his wrath.  His hatred of their kind went deeper than his hatred of Midas.  So did his fear.  A sliver of insecurity sneaked in.  Could any gryphon get past the lab’s security?  Enter the castle’s grounds undetected?  Could Midas’ pet monster have come looking for him?

A sound came from behind Percival, his head whipping around.  He didn’t see anything, but somehow he knew.

“No.”  He whispered.

“I like this invisibility cloak.”  There was a shimmer and the sound of rustling fabric. Then, standing there like he had every right to be walking among the Good folk, Trystan appeared.  “I was against the idea, when Midas’ woman suggested I use it to sneak in here.  It seems like a trick of your kind.”  He shrugged and dropped the unseen garment to the ground.  “But, I must admit, it made it simple to slay all your men without detection.”

“You won’t get away with this.”  Percival spat out, his mind racing.  “Even if you murder me, it won’t matter.  Your people are still finished.”

“My people live.  They are locked in that room.”  Trystan pointed to the window.  “Except Guinevere, of course.  She fights elsewhere.”

Percival surreptitiously dug in his pocket for his final weapon.  He couldn’t defeat the gryphon with two broken arms, but he still had an ace to play.  “She’ll die, just like the rest of you.”

“If you think that, you do not know my sister.”

“She is not your sister!  Guinevere is one of my kind.  You are nothing but a goddamn demon!  Your whole race is evil and deserves to be wiped from existence.  You’re a disease, festering on the Good folk of the world!”

Percival lunged forward.  Ripping the needle from his pocket, he slammed it into Trystan’s arm.  A full and concentrated dose of the formula was injected straight into the gryphon’s bloodstream.

Trystan stared down at the needle like it confused him.

Percival staggered back in righteous victory.  The airborne version of the formula might be malfunctioning, but no one had ever withstood a direct shot of it into their veins.  The massive dosage Trystan had just received would make him nothing more than a puppet.

“Kill the child and Midas and yourself.”  Percival ordered, loving the fact that the gryphon had to obey.  That nature was once again in balance and Good folk held dominion over the lesser creatures.  “And make it painful.”

He stood there, breathing hard, waiting for Trystan to submit.

And waiting.

And waiting.

What the hell?

Nothing happened.  The gryphon’s eyes didn’t cloud over with mindless compliance.  Instead, he yanked the needle from his arm like it was a harmless splinter.  “This will be painful.”  He said calmly.  “But not for me and my clan.”

Terror came over Percival like an avalanche, chilling him from the inside.  “How?”  He blurted out, staring up at the monster who would kill him.

“Your godless science is nothing to me.  As you are nothing to me.”  Trystan flicked the empty hypodermic at Percival, like a cat taunting a mouse.  “It does not work on my kind.”

Percival’s pulse pounded in his temples.  “Of course it works on your kind.”  His voice was too high.  “I’ve used it on gryphons before.  I know it works on gryphons!”

“Yes, but it does not work on Good folk.”  Trystan grabbed him by the front of his chest plate, lifting him right off the ground.  “And I was born Good.”  He smiled.  Fucking smiled.  “How is that not obvious to all?”

With that, he threw Percival backwards, straight through the window.  Percival felt the glass crashing around him and then he was pin-wheeling through the air.  He impacted the floor with enough force to break most of the bones in his body.  Life seeped from him, spilling onto the cement and he made a helpless gasping sound.

“About time you got here!”  Midas shouted up at Trystan.  “Where’s Gwen?”

“She is coming.”  Trystan casually jumped into the room, his monstrous wings allowing him to glide to the ground.  “Is the child alright?”  He didn’t wait for an answer to that, grabbing Avalon up so he could see her for himself.  “Are you safe?”  He demanded, scanning her for injuries.

“Hi, Trystan!  I was brave like Lyrssa and Mommy!”

He let out a shaky breath, his heathen thumb gently tracing down her face, from her forehead to her chin.  “I swear to the gods, I’m going to fucking chain you to my side, Avi.”

“Cursing’s a no-no, but that’s okay,” her tiny arms wrapped around his neck in a hug, “‘cause I missed you a lot.”

The gryphon closed his eyes against her messy blonde curls, whispering words in his primitive language.  He cradled her against his chest, his wings curling around her.  His massive hands covered most of her back, his bloodstained palms spread wide, as if every part of him wanted to shield Avalon forever.

In his darkening consciousness, Percival suddenly remembered fighting in the Looking Glass Campaigns.  Remembered those stupid, senseless, defeated gryphons protecting children of all races in their mountaintop villages.  Remembered King Uther laughing at their doomed efforts and asking their captured leader why she bothered.  Remembered that one-eyed barbarian sneering like Uther was somehow the savage.  “The innocent belong to all who would care for them.”  She’d said with contempt in her voice.  “True warriors know this.”

And then in Percival’s misfiring mind, Galahad stood beside him at the Knights’ Academy, once more, his eyes bright with pride and honor.  They were young again, reciting the oath that all King’s Men had to take.  Saying it for the very first time.  Pledging to always fulfill their primary duty:

A knight protects those weaker than himself.

And there, in his last moments of existence, Percival realized that the gryphons and the knights all vowed to live by the same code.  They all promised to guard the brightest and most fragile parts of this world they shared, even as they slaughtered each other.

What did that mean?

He wasn’t sure and it was too late to figure it out.

The Kingpin marched over to Percival’s dying form, intent on finishing him off.  The small dose of the airborne formula was dissipating, leaving the maniac’s golden gaze clear.

“Still alive?  That’s convenient.”  He crouched next to Percival and very deliberately tapped one bare finger to the middle of his forehead.  His mouth curved when their skin touched without his curse being triggered.  “Well, look at that.  You’re not gold.”

Percival gurgled up at him.

“I’m all cured.  …Too bad you’re not.”  Midas sat back and flexed his uncovered hands.  “You have about thirty more seconds to live, asshole.  Use them thinking about what a fucking waste your life was.”  Midas got to his feet.  “Where’s Gwen?”  He asked Trystan again.  “Why isn’t she here, yet?  You said she was here.”  He looked up at the window, as if he expected to see her.

“She is here.  At the castle.  It is a two-pronged attack.”  Trystan still wasn’t putting Avalon down.  “I came here to get you.  She will keep our primary enemy at bay, ensuring I can fly you and the child to safety.”

Midas didn’t like that plan.  “Where the fuck is my wife!”  He bellowed.

Trystan casually shrugged.  “She’s gone to duel the Scarecrow.”