A Shard of Sun by Jess E. Owen

scarcely knew the truth himself, but the elders of the Aesir in the Silver Isles told him what they knew, and he could guess it. “You believe Per fled.”
    Rok stretched his broad wings, for a moment hiding the stars from Kjorn’s sight. “Per fled with the cursed. And all those who would have served him loyally in this land were left to the usurper.”
    Kjorn’s appetite fell away and he bunched his muscles to stand, then remembered he was still supposed to appear bound. He shifted instead, feigning discomfort. “Was your family loyal to my grandfather? Is that why you’re in exile? I can—”
    “I’m not in exile!” The rogue’s tail lashed. “I was born free of the Dawn Spire. My father refused to serve the new kings .” He put a sour twist on the word, and Kjorn’s mind soared. If he could play it right, here could be an ally instead of a foe.
    “Rok—”
    “Stay quiet, Highness. It’s what princes are good at.”
    “Your father would’ve served mine.” Kjorn tried one last time. “Will you not make amends, and be my ally?”
    Rok’s head tilted in the dark, then he chuckled. “No.”
    “Why? What happened to make you so bitter?”
    “Eat your food. We’ll arrive at Vanheim in the morning. You’ll want your strength to argue with them, instead.”
    He turned, tail flicking across Kjorn’s face before he could say another word. Stifling frustration, Kjorn clenched his talons into the mud, and ate. He would need his strength in the morning, though not for arguing.
    “Were you being honest?”
    He nearly jumped out of his binds as Fraenir slipped forward. Kjorn hated the dark. “I’m always honest.”
    He spoke, hushed, head tilted as if listening for Rok’s return. “He tried to return to the Dawn Spire, a long time ago. They wouldn’t have him. King Orn called his family disloyal, oath breakers, exiles, and never gave him a chance.”
    “Ah,” said Kjorn. Then, “You care about him?”
    “Of course I do,” he growled. “He’s like my brother. He practically raised me.” At Kjorn’s silence, Fraenir continued. “He’s good, but because of his father’s act, he’s stuck with this life. He could have been a great warrior at the Dawn Spire, honored.”
    Kjorn peered forward, trying to see Fraenir’s face, but clouds hid even the stars, and they spoke in blackness. The only other sound was the crash of the sea below. “It’s for all of us, in this life, to either live up to, or to redeem the acts of our fathers.” He inched closer to Fraenir through the mud. “You could talk to him for me.”
    A moment of hesitation. “No, I can’t do that. You have nothing. You can’t promise him anything. Even if you really are the grandson of Per, you’re in exile too. You’ve got no pride with you, no warriors, nothing to prove who you are or what you could give him if you succeed.”
    “Honor means keeping your oaths, Fraenir, not for gain, but for the sake of your own heart. Loyalty means following those you’ve pledged to, even if they have nothing to offer. He’ll understand it as a matter of honor. Tell him that,” Kjorn urged. “If what you’ve told me is true, tell him, and he’ll understand that.”
    From afield, Rok called Fraenir’s name. The younger gryfon drew back a step.
    Kjorn tried to keep him close. “Fraenir—”
    Fraenir hesitated, watching Kjorn, one ear turning back. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
    Wind brought the smell of more rain, and Kjorn braced himself for a long, chilly night.
    “Fraenir,” Rok barked again from closer by. “First watch.” He seemed in a black mood, and didn’t bring up any kind of plan to look for shelter. Fraenir edged away a few steps, watching. Perhaps he, or Rok, would have a change of heart, but Kjorn didn’t set store in it. He would be gone by morning anyway.

     
    Even through the cold, wet night, he managed a little sleep, chaotic with dreams of shadowy, fanged beasts and multiple gryfons who all looked like