Chapter Twenty
Griffin
Griffin woke the next morning to find Nihal standing atop the cliffs, looking into the rising sun. His dark wings stretched wide, making him a sight to behold.
Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Griffin joined him, his gaze going down to the beach and widening. “The smugglers. They’re gone.”
A pit opened inside him. Was this where they lost, where they failed? Was it because of a winged fae with magical music?
A smaller boat anchored not too far from the beach. “Is that a… fisherman?”
Nihal nodded. “That’s Liam. He comes around here every few weeks to see if I have need of him to run messages for me.”
“Messages for who?” When he didn’t respond, Griffin nodded. “Right, another answer we’ll get in time.”
Nihal shrugged. “Did your clothes dry adequately over night?
