They travelled until their legs could no longer bear them. “Time for a rest, I think,” Gretel suggested. “This desolate place is driving me mad! The sooner we kill this thing the better!”
“All in due time, my friend,” said Astrid, who was sharpening a stone into a spearhead.
With the trail going cold, Sam paced back and forth trying to devise a strategy for locating the griffin’s lair. “According to the field guides a griffin will often nest at a high peak with a superior view over the surrounding environment. I suggest we simply go for higher ground. Either way, I think the griffin is close, I can feel it in my gut!”
Astrid tested the edge of her new makeshift spear on her hand and blew the excess dust from the sharpened stone. She stood up. “What is our plan when we do find it? I assisted on a hunt last year where they used crossbows to bring one down, but even with our flimsy bows I doubt we’ll be able to do it.”
“Well, we’ve made it this far,” said Victor. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”
And figure they did, for when they were not searching for the griffin, they were devising a plan to destroy it; one that accommodated for the primal materials they had created. Like all good hunters they would be patient (although after such a long time looking that patience was waning) and they would set a trap to render the mighty beast’s superior power obsolete.
At last the griffin was sighted, soaring high above the mountain tops like a white star, simultaneously filling their hearts with joy and dread. They watched it closely, their eyes glued to its radiant form, until it slowly descended upon one of the peaks, flapping its great white wings and cawing loudly.
“Don’t let it see you!” Hansel cried. “We have to surprise it, remember?” They waited three hours before the griffin took off again. “No time to waste! Let’s go!”
Somehow the sight of their prey so close renewed their strength and made the narrow pass leading up to the griffin’s nest an easier trek than it should have been. The pass dove into the mountainside and the group had to crawl through a tight cave. As they passed through the air became musky and dry. They emerged in an open area near the top of the mountain that was undoubtedly the griffin’s lair. The ground was scattered with bones, feathers and bird-droppings, and the thick animal smell was overwhelming. Still, above them the peak continued to slope up until it came to a final point; a system of caves beneath this would provide the perfect hiding spot for when their prey returned. No other creatures seemed to be alive on the mountain.
They made their preparations and Hansel broke a stick into five and everyone drew straws. Victor’s was the shortest. “Oh dear…”
“If you don’t want to do it…” Hansel began.
“No, I drew the shorter straw. It will be my task.” He exited the cave, but returned for one last word. “And for god’s sake, don’t miss!”
As weird and desperate as it sounds, their magnificent plan involved using Victor as bait. He sat quietly and exposed with his legs crossed in the middle of the clearing, having first set a bundle of sticks alight to draw in the griffin when it returned. The minutes dragged on slower than Victor could bear, and no matter how hard he tried he could not tear his eyes from the sky. He nervously chewed his lip and rocked back and forth. “Any time now!” he cried at the griffin.
Suddenly in a terrible rush of wind the beast ascended from the valley below and over the eyrie. Victor screamed and paled but held his ground as the griffin’s razor-sharp eyes ran him through; it flapped its wings, cawed once again and came down upon him. Sam had given him a special concoction, a leather pouch filled with a mysterious powder, and she told him: “When it comes, throw this on the fire. Trust me. Oh, and please be careful!”
Vic pelted the leather pouch into the flames and it exploded in a flash of light and a ball of smoke. The griffin turned its head and was stunned, granting Victor a moment to dive away and avoid being skewered by its great talons. Hansel charged out of the cave carrying a harpoon that was tied to one of the rock pillars. He hurled it with all his strength and speared the left wing of the beast. The griffin screeched now and tried to soar high into the air, but the rope that had bound it drew tight and it was hurled into the ground. Now came Astrid and Sam, who were waiting ready with the large net they had prepared. They rushed the griffin before it scrambled to its feet and draped it hastily, tightening the noose on the trap; the more the griffin struggled the more it became ensnared. Last of all came Gretel, who’s task it was to deliver the killing blow with her spear.
But Vic noticed something peculiar about the griffin’s behaviour; instead of trying to fight them off it only glared straight through him and attempted to crawl in his direction. Was it looking for something? He turned around and followed its gaze, and then he saw the eggs. They were broken and laying in a large nest that he had somehow not noticed before, for it was hidden beneath the ridge. He saw four baby griffins, featherless and defenceless, watching their mother in tyranny. Victor scrambled to his feet and caught the end of Gretel’s spear. “Stop!” he cried. “We got it wrong! You must stop!”
Gretel grudgingly wedged the spear out of his grip. “What are you doing? We have to kill it before it escapes!”
“It’s protecting its young! I don’t think this is the creature Rodrick was talking about!”
Gretel grudgingly turned to Hansel. “Well, what do you think?”
He looked at her and then nervously looked at the fallen griffin. “Rodrick said that if we slay the wrong beast then we fail our task. If Victor thinks this is the wrong beast then we should consider it carefully. Will that net hold it?”
“I can’t say for sure,” said Sam. “If it does hold, it won’t be for too long. We will have to decide soon.”
Gretel sighed. “Then go and make up your minds! Just be quick about it!”
Each member of the team went away and stood alone for a moment, and when they had made up their minds they gathered before the griffin. Sam was first to speak her mind. “This creature is fierce and dangerous, but I don’t think it is evil in the way that Rodrick described.”
They turned to Hansel, whose decision would determine the fate of their prey. “I keep thinking about the male griffin we found before, and the more I remember it the more I think that its wounds were too large to have been inflicted by this beast. I agree with Victor; the griffin is not our target.”
And so it was decided, and the griffin (with much difficulty) was set free and left to care for her young. The fire that lingered in its eyes dimmed down once the net was removed, and Victor saw in those eyes that it understood what he had done. By saving its life the young griffins were given a chance to survive. It did not pursue them any further than the eyrie.
Sparing the griffins life was hardly a victory, however, when they considered what remained of their task. They had essentially been set back to square one, with only the thought that whatever had killed the male griffin was the true evil creature that they were searching for. The difficulty of their task increased tenfold, and time was running out.
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