The Flight of the Griffin by C.M. Gray

he glanced past Pardigan’s legs, a monstrous black shape emerged from the water. He still didn’t have a voice, and the sound that came from his mouth was no more than a croak, but he lifted his hand and pointed. They all turned around at the same time. To Loras, everything seemed to be in slow motion. He only had enough energy left to send a weak spark of energy at the demon as it rose to its full height, opening huge wings ready to fall upon the group. It screamed as it pounced forward, mouth gaping in angry indignation at being bested by Loras and robbed of its prize.
    In the same moment that Loras’s spell found its mark, Pardigan’s knife buried itself into one of the creature's huge red eyes, quickly followed by two arrows fired by Quint, which entered it's heaving chest with two dull thuds. The demon's scream turned shrill as it pulled at the arrows and tried frantically to release the blade from its eye. Emitting a moan of agony and frustration, it toppled, only to meet the twin swords of Tarent that parted its head from its body. The demon’s body hit the deck and thick black acidic gore flooded the boat, hissing and splashing over the feet of The Griffin’s crew.
    The whole episode, from stopping the boat to the present, couldn’t have lasted longer than it took to drink a cup of brew, but The Griffin’s crew had experienced their first skirmish with Chaos, and had won.
    ‘That’s disgusting,’ said Mahra, looking down at the steaming mess of dead demon and then at Loras, who was covered in black hissing goo. He was far too exhausted to do or say anything and didn’t care what he was lying in. Mahra rubbed at a splash that had got on her leathers, the only tiny drop to reach her, and went below to change into a cat and clean herself properly.
    Pardigan helped Tarent push the huge carcass over the side, which was no easy task, then sluiced the deck while Quint rinsed Loras off with several buckets of seawater before helping him down below to wash off properly. They then scrambled about hoisting all the sails, eager to be off lest something else was lurking in the depths ready to attack.
    The Griffin sailed for the rest of the day with no other incidents and by nightfall, the boat was once again rigged for ease of handling in dark seas. The going was good with only smaller waves and a stiff breeze pushing them on. Loras was asleep in his cabin but had woken earlier complaining of nothing more than a sore throat. His eyes however, were sunken and surrounded by dark rings. He looked awful and Mahra sent him back to his bunk with a warm brew sweetened with honey for his throat.
    ‘I don’t like the look of him,’ she confided to Pardigan. ‘That thing was a demon and they can be nasty in many different ways. Loras was under that one’s control for far too long.’
    Tarent had been in to see Loras several times attempting to heal him saying that he felt that the ability to heal was one of his gifts. However, as he was unpractised, it only aided Loras a little on each visit, and drained Tarent of his energy at the same time.
    The Griffin made her way steadily on with the crew changing shifts every three hours during the night.
    By morning the sky was decidedly dark and hostile and the sea had risen again, sending the little boat surging from crest to crest with water pouring over the decks and often down into the cabin through the hatchway. To add to their problems, the temperature was dropping and the crew were all beginning to feel quite miserable.
    Quint came below around mid morning having been relieved by Tarent and sat with his hands wrapped around a cup of hot brew, dripping water onto the table in front of him.
    ‘I don’t like this, Mahra, the weather is worsening and we still haven’t sighted this island. It’s raining hard again, visibility is awful and the sea is churning so much it’s almost impossible to keep a course. I’m seriously starting to think we should turn around.’ He blew