The Griffin's Flight Read Online Free PDF

short; he caught up with it in a few strides and then pounced. He landed squarely on top of it, knocking it flat on its stomach. The lizard struggled, its entire body thrashing with astonishing strength. Its tail whipped at him, and as Arren tried to pin it down it turned itself onto its back and tore at him with its claws. One caught him on the back of the hand, cutting him, but the others snagged in the thick fabric of his robe, unable to penetrate it. Arren could feel the lizard wriggling its way out from beneath him, and knew that if it reached the nearest spice-tree he would never be able to get it down again. He snatched up a rock from the ground and bashed it over the head. The blow didn’t kill it but did manage to stun it. Quick as thought, he grabbed it by the head and twisted its neck hard. There was a dull snap and the lizard began to twitch and convulse violently, its mouth opening wide to hiss. Arren flicked it over onto its stomach and bashed its head in with the rock, and it finally became still.
    Flushed with triumph, he carried the dead lizard to the fireplace and began to gather more wood. He’d eaten lizards like this one before, and they had rich, fatty flesh. He could live off one this big for days.
    It took a while to build up the fire again; fortunately there were still some coals that had a bit of heat left in them, and he added some dry grass and blew gently on it until it caught. Once it was ablaze he added twigs and leaves and then a couple of larger branches, working patiently until the fire was going again. This done, he took his knife from his belt and turned his attention to the dead lizard. His stomach was already rumbling in anticipation as he skinned and gutted it. The flesh was thick and oily; evidently this lizard had been eating well recently. It would taste delicious.
    As he was sharpening a stick to serve as a crude spit, he heard the sound of wings from overhead and looked up sharply.
    But it was only Skandar. The black griffin had spotted him and was coming down to land. Arren shuffled back a little way to give him room, and he landed in the middle of the clearing, his four huge paws hitting the ground with scarcely a sound. He paused to preen his wings and then came toward the fire, his tail swinging gently behind him.
    “Good morning,” said Arren. “How was the hunt?”
    Skandar paused and looked at him. “No food,” he said briefly. His speech was slow and clumsy, though Arren had been helping him to improve.
    “That’s not good,” said Arren. “You could try hunting on the ground. There’s a few ground-bears around and some rabbits, I think.”
    Skandar came closer, ignoring him.
    “Well, maybe the next place we go to will be better,” Arren went on. “There could be some sheep there for you.”
    Skandar wasn’t looking at him. Arren realised with a horrible start that the griffin was intent on the dead lizard.
    He got up sharply. “No, don’t even think about it, that’s m— oof! ”
    Skandar knocked him aside almost casually and snapped up the lizard. He swallowed it whole with scarcely a pause.
    Arren got up. “ Skandar! That was mine , damn it!”
    Skandar looked at him and then started to groom.
    Arren rubbed his forehead, trying to restrain his temper, “Listen, you greedy idiot, you can’t take other people’s food like that. I’ll starve if you keep doing it.”
    Skandar glanced up. “Not understand,” he said, clicking his beak.
    “Yes you do,” Arren snapped. “You understand perfectly well. Don’t try and get around me with that excuse. I caught that lizard. If you wanted one, you should have caught your own.”
    Skandar yawned. “We go now?” he said.
    Arren could see he wasn’t going to get anywhere. “Fine. We might as well.”
    Skandar watched while he kicked dirt over the fire to put it out and then scattered the ashes as far as he could. He had left his sword leaning against a tree, and now he picked it up and strapped it to his