The writers laughed.
“You know your mythological beasts and you did a great job describing the gryphon as both a potential weapon and a possible friend.” Harris turned to the third page of Millay’s first chapter. “I really like this part, after Tessa’s been pushed and her gryphon catches her in his talons and flies her into his cave.”
He held up Millay’s second page and read, “Despite the piercing light of the full moon, the cave was mostly in shadow. The gryphon’s gold eye gleamed as he assessed his new rider. He watched the blood seep into her gauzy white dress where his scythelike claws had bit into the flesh of her waist. The coldness of his gaze sparked a flicker of fear in Tessa’s belly. She had heard tales of what happened to girls who did not instantly bond with their gryphons. Trembling, Tessa moved toward the creature, awed by his tawny fur, the shimmering feathers of his wings, the massive legs and muscular back, and the daggerlike curve of his beak. She sunk to one knee and bowed to him.”
The group let the words settle over them for a moment. It seemed a fitting segment to listen to as the light waned outside the cottage. Laurel had requested an early evening meeting, as her parents were coming to town after dinner and she wanted to make sure the twins were presentable before their arrival. Millay’s shift at Fish Nets began at eight, so she seconded the motion to begin the meeting at five thirty instead of six thirty. Olivia had left a message about the time change with Chief Rawlings the day before, but he had neither returned her call nor showed up for the meeting. She was surprisingly disappointed by his absence.
Returning her attention to the notes she’d written beside the passage where Tessa dropped to her knees near the gryphon’s nest of dried grass, Olivia raised a question. “The bones scattered about the corner of the gryphon’s cave—animal or human?”
“Eeew!” Laurel squeaked. “You can’t have Tessa’s rescuer be a flying, feathered, people-eater! This is a young adult book, not a Stephen King horror novel!”
Millay patted Laurel’s knee. “Relax, Mama Bear. It’s a pile of cow bones. I’ve got a scene in the fourth chapter that shows the gryphon feeding. I wanted to get the point across that these creatures aren’t oversized, cuddly plush toys. They’re wild animals and fierce warriors. They can be cold, brutal, and unpredictable. And they’re total carnivores.”
“You need to portray them in this light if the reader is to believe that a gryphon is capable of winning a battle against a dragon,” Olivia agreed. “I’m looking forward to reading what kind of bonding goes on between Tessa and her beast. For example, how will she convince him to attack something that breathes fire?”
Harris fidgeted. “Yeah. Um, about that whole dragon thing . . .”
Flicking her black bangs out of her eyes, Millay stared hard at Harris. “You’re well-schooled in the fantasy genre, so tell me, is there a better creature to pick as the enemy than a dragon? They’re like the fantasy world’s equivalent of an A-bomb.”
In order to avoid meeting her penetrating gaze, Harris drew a series of spirals on the margin of his paper. “It’s just that some of your details are a little bit cliché. Tessa and her friends are dressed in white robes. The dragon riders are all good-looking but vicious women dressed in black. They remind me too much of the riders in Anne McCaffrey’s books.” He hesitated and then plowed on. “And the descriptions of your dragons seem a lot like those of the ring wraiths from Tolkien’s trilogy.”
Laurel interrupted. “I know who Anne McCaffrey is! The Dragonriders of Pern was on my summer reading list in high school. I checked it out of the library thinking there’d be lots of hot guys rescuing princesses,” she added with a giggle, clearly hoping to dispel the hostility radiating from Millay. “And even though I’m not as experienced as Harris about these kinds of books, I see his point. Can you change the dragons into something else? It seems that it would be pretty tough to beat a creature that breathes fire unless Tessa knows some powerful magic, and though she’s strong and brave, I get the sense that she’s still kind of finding her way.”
Millay screwed up her lips, still staring at Harris. “What do you suggest? I don’t want anyone thinking my stuff is cliché.”
Harris, who had obviously given the subject serious thought, responded immediately. “Well, if you want to maintain your aerial battle scenes, then why not use a wyvern? They’re reptilian, but usually smaller and less massive than a dragon. You could make yours really different. More like a snake with wings. No legs and no breathing fire.”
“Sounds like a viper,” Olivia added. “I can picture a black, forked tongue.”
“A poisonous, winged viper?” Millay’s face brightened as an image formed in her mind. “With curved fangs and an anvil-shaped tail. That does sound more interesting and even more sinister than your everyday dragon.” She jotted down some quick notes and then flashed Harris one of her rare smiles. “You’re pretty good at this critique stuff. Thanks for being straight with me.”
Harris blushed with pleasure over the compliment. The pronounced ruddiness of his cheeks reminded Olivia that she still needed to find a way to get the young man to New Bern in order to have a consultation with her aesthetician.
“I know this is only the first chapter, but I thought it was a really good beginning,” Laurel praised Millay. “If I read this right, Tessa and her gryphon were born connected to each other, even though they didn’t know it. So when they speak to each other, do they do that telepathically?”
Millay nodded. “That’s why the dialogue’s italicized.”
“One last question.” Laurel quickly checked her cell phone to ensure that she’d received no calls over the last half hour and then asked, “Is the gryphon going to be called ‘the gryphon’ the whole time or will you give him a name?”
“He and Tessa have to seek out his name. They have to succeed in a series of minor quests before they’ll be ready for battle.” She shrugged. “Though to be totally honest, I’ve been having a hard time coming up with a name. Every one I’ve tried out sounds like a brand of organic cereal or a STD. If you guys have any ideas . . .”
Harris leaned forward eagerly. “I have this awesome book that lists the names of all the minor mythological figures. Medieval ones too. I bet you could find something by blending parts of those names together.”
“Cool. Can you bring it by my apartment tomorrow?” she inquired lightly. “I’ll feed you pizza.”
Harris tried to keep his delighted smile under control. Olivia suspected even without the offer of pizza, an invitation to Millay’s home had him flying high. “Sure,” he answered with nonchalance. “I can swing by around six.”
Grinning at her two friends, Laurel folded Millay’s pages in half and tucked them in her purse. “Speaking of names, what are we supposed to call the chief when he joins us? If he joins us, that is. I feel like I’m going to say Chief or Mr. Rawlings no matter what! I’m still calling our pediatrician Dr. Davis even though Steve and I have been to dinner with his wife and him a bunch of times!”
“The chief’s first name is Sawyer,” Olivia replied as she rose to replenish her empty coffee cup. “I don’t know why he’s not here, as he seemed quite sincere about joining us. He even sent me an email saying he’d finished critiquing your chapter, Millay. My only guess is that he got tied up at work. Things aren’t exactly sleepy in Oyster Bay these days.”
Her words immediately forced the writers into silence. Each of them recalled their last meeting in the cottage and how it had ended with the discovery of Camden’s death. Laurel hugged herself as though she was suddenly cold, Harris began to doodle again, and Millay’s expression turned mournful, making her seem incredibly young and fragile.