Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2) (19 page)

Ah, the clarity
of innocence.

And her little
brother, no matter what nasty surprise the Battle Goddess might have planted
within him, was innocent of any wrong doing on his part. It wasn’t his fault
he’d been born into a situation beyond his control.

And just like that,
Shadowlight became one of the things she would protect.

It didn’t matter
that she didn’t know he existed this time yesterday. She knew he existed now
and was a part of her family.

More than happy
by his older sister’s acceptance, Shadowlight proceeded to sniff every inch of
her mane, then moved to her face where he started the big, sloppy gargoyle
kisses, which must in fact be a species quirk and not just some inherent
Gregory-ism.

After a few
moments of mutual washing, Lillian pushed Shadowlight’s questing muzzle away.
“I need to talk with our parents for a few minutes.”

He bobbed his
head in that seemingly universal sign of understanding, then wandered off to go
chase the fireflies randomly blinking around the meadow.

He looked so
terribly young.

But just how
young?

From Gregory’s
and the other dryads’ explanations, she knew a gargoyle child was usually
gestated in the hamadryad tree until he was ten years of age, at which point,
the tree would go into labor and birth the gargoyle fully grown.

Even as
ten-year-olds, gargoyles were deadly to evil. Gregory had come to her rescue
when they were both only eight, choosing to be born two years early so he could
free her from the Battle Goddess’s domain.

Gregory had
finished maturing while he’d slept in stone here on earth. She knew Gregory had
faced, and killed many dangers to extract her from the lady’s domain, but he
was an Avatar. That powerful magic already his to control even at the tender
age of eight, and he’d had the added benefit of many lifetimes of knowledge to
call upon.

And yet her
brother had none of that, and still he’d come to her rescue.

It told her
something she’d always suspected about the loyalty and bravery of gargoyles.

It also
explained her own well-developed protective instincts. Those too, must be a
species characteristic.

“Tell me how we
can overcome Tethys’ enchantment,” Lillian paused, her voice shook slightly,
“but first tell me your names because they were stripped from me shortly after
I arrived here. And I very much want to know my parents.”

Her gargoyle
father was the first to step up, and he gave her a huge embrace, nearly lifting
her off the ground.

Lillian held
back a sob, only now realizing how much of an emotional void there was from not
knowing her parents.

When he put her
down, he stepped back and looked her in the eye and said, “I am Stalks the
Darkness.”

After a moment,
she cleared her throat and scrubbed away the tears on her forearm. “Do you mind
if I call you Darkness?

“Darkness,” her
father rumbled, “suits me well enough.”

Her mother came
forward and placed her hands on Lillian’s shoulders and then bowed until their
foreheads pressed together briefly. She said something in a language Lillian
didn’t have a hope of following, but she assumed the alien mouthful was her
mother’s real name.

Perhaps seeing
her daughter’s expression she clarified, “In your human tongue, I would be
called Born at the Mountain’s Foot Where the River Runs Cold.”

Lillian mulled
that name over for a moment. “Do you mind if I call you River?”

Her mother
smiled softly. “Darkness and Shadowlight call me that often. You are welcome to
as well.”

“Thank you.”

Her mother
reached one delicate hand out to Lillian’s nearest horn in wonder. “I don’t
care that it was through the Lady’s manipulation, but you make a most beautiful
gargoyle. Such a strong, brave young woman would make any mother proud, but I
am doubly so, because I know what you had to overcome.”

“Thank you,”
Lillian whispered. “I would like to know more about my family, but Gregory can
track me anywhere.”

Her father made
a deep huffing sound. “He wouldn’t be much of a protector if he couldn’t.” She
thought she detected a hint of reproach as if he thought Gregory hadn’t been
doing a very good job.

Overprotective
gargoyles,
she muttered into the sanctity of her
own mind, before she fully realized she was one of those overly protective
gargoyles. Lillian sighed, mostly at her own folly.

“You said you
had a plan to help me regain Gregory.” She divided her attention between her
parents, allowing them to decide who would answer. She honestly didn’t care
which one explained, as long as she was enlightened.

It was her
father, Darkness, who answered her. “When Gregory comes to find you, we will
already have laid in place several wards in this meadow to prevent him from
building one of the portals that would allow him to return you quickly to the
siren. His instincts will tell him to get you away from anything he perceives
as dangerous—us being the greatest concern at the moment.

“But we will not
be here when he comes,” Darkness smiled, one of those toothy gargoyle grins
that gave anyone who saw it pause. “There will only be you waiting for him. In
no distress whatsoever. He’ll likely check you over for traps, spells or
injuries. That will be the chance you’ll need to follow through with our plan.”

River broke in,
“You will not like the next part, but it must be done. It’s the only way to
break the siren’s spell.”

Her father
nodded agreement, then gestured to his mate. “Show her.”

From around her
hips, River removed a great belt or girdle as they were called long ago—Lillian
didn’t know what else to call the gem-encrusted band. She wasn’t up on her
medieval fantasy fashions.

When her mother
handed the ornament to her father and he demonstrated how it would go around a
gargoyle’s neck, the item went from lavish fashion accessory to slave collar in
a blink of an eye.

“No.” Lillian
uttered the word before her brain had fully registered her intent. “No fucking
way.”

They watched
her, their expressions unreadable.

“Most definitely
not. I’ll just go serve Tethys, doubtlessly she’s the better master.”

“You don’t mean
it, not really,” her mother countered, “not when you have the means to free
Gregory after you’ve broken the siren’s spell.”

“You’re saying
it’s as easy as putting that thing around Gregory’s neck, breaking the siren’s
spell, and then taking it back off again? I’m not that gullible.”

“Easy?” her
father chuckled, “I imagine it will be anything but easy to get the wardstone
collar on your Gargoyle Protector.”

“There is a
matching collar which controls this one.” Lillian’s mother gestured to
Shadowlight and he came galloping over. She held her hand out to him. There was
a shifting of shadows around his neck as River unclasped something, and then
the matching collar became visible in her hand. “Thank you for carrying this
for me, love.” Shadowlight kissed her and then darted off to return to his
firefly hunting. “Stalks the Darkness is forbidden to carry such a thing from
the Lady’s realm, however, Shadowlight was not there long enough to have such
restrictions placed on him yet. And I could only hide the one on my person
without the close proximity causing them to become reactive.” Her mother held
out the control collar.

Lillian shook
her head and stepped back. River continued to hold it out. Eventually, with a
deep sigh of displeasure, Lillian took it because she wanted to see how much a
person’s freedom weighed.

It was
surprisingly light, and so very delicate for something so evil.

“I can’t betray
Gregory like this—I’m sorry, but what are my reassurances that this thing won’t
just turn Gregory over to the Lady of Battles?”

“You have our
word, which I know isn’t much to you yet, but we are telling the truth.” The
dryad sighed, her expression closing once again. “But you must know there is no
guarantee the siren will not turn you both over to the Lady. We are aware
Tethys is bitter about what humans have done to nature. Gregory is already
taxing her power, and if the two of you prove too difficult to break to her
plans, there is a chance, small I would wager, that she might turn you both
over to the Lady of Battles in exchange for aid from that quarter.”

Her father made
a thoughtful grunt and added, “Or she may fulfill her promise to Gregory and
make you whole. Or if that fails, return you both to the master of all
gargoyles—the Lord of the Underworld. There is a chance, a goodly one, Death
may offer her a boon for the return of his most beloved gargoyle.”

“Beloved?” She
really wanted to stop the parroting, but she had to ask. Later, she promised to
make Gregory ‘magic-up’ a concise history of the Avatars. And she would read
the damn thing from cover to cover without complaint even if it was ten
thousand pages long.

“As
relationships go, it is an interesting one. You might think it a father-son
relationship as the Divine Ones used you and Gregory to birth the twins, but
over the centuries, Gregory and the Lord of the Underworld became more like
brothers.”

That explained
one thing. “Then it’s not just the power of the Avatars the Lady of Battles
wants? She wants to specifically break Gregory so she can use him against her
twin. Nice.” Then Lillian saw another option. “I don’t have to choose between
either a device made by the Battle Goddess’s hand or the siren’s song. There is
a third party. If I run to the Lord of the Underworld, Gregory would follow,
and once there, surely Lord Death would set Gregory free.”

A long silent
hesitation was punctuated by uneasy looks between her parents. Her father was
the one to answer. “Yes, the Lord of the Underworld would restore Gregory.”

Lillian took a
deep breath. “You’re a gargoyle. You must know how to get there. Can you teach
me what I need to know to seek him out?”

“You are
correct. All gargoyles can find the way. Though it is much easier to travel
from the Magic Realm to the Mortal Realm than the other way, the trip is
possible from here. However, it would take much power, and even more will.”

Lillian cocked
her head. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Before Gregory
started expending large amounts of power to prepare the Fae of this world for
the coming battle, he had power enough to bring you to the Lord of the
Underworld. Yet he chose not to. Why do you think he made that decision?”

“Because of me.”
Her tail twitched in sudden, fearful understanding. She forced it to still. “To
protect me.”

“As I said
earlier, the Lord of the Underworld would restore Gregory.” Her father’s look
took in her form, from the tips of her horns to the sharp talons on her toes.
“He would not stop there. He would free you from what his twin has worked upon
you.”

“I wouldn’t be a
gargoyle anymore, you mean.” She had feared this side of her nature. It was so
primal, and yet it had fast become a part of her. Would she miss it if it were
stripped from her?

She flexed her
talons in the loam under foot and gave her wings a little shake, and feared the
answer to that question would be a ‘yes’.          

“Your gargoyle
side isn’t something the Lord of the Underworld can just unmake,” her mother
told her bluntly. “You were born this way. And I’m afraid once he was finished
with you, you wouldn’t still be among the living.”

“But surely…”

Her mother made
a sweeping motion with one delicate hand. “He would grant you and your
hamadryad a swift death and then watch over your soul to prevent his twin from
working her mischief a second time. That is the swiftest way to restore you.
Once you were yourself again, you would thank him for his aid.”

“But what about
the Riven preparing to overrun this world? The Lady of Battles’ scheme?”

“If he freed
your spirit, you could then be reborn as you were intended. Gregory, too, since
your other half would seek a quick end by Death’s hand. Once that happened, the
Lady of Battles’ plans would unravel and she’d no longer be a threat to this or
any Realm.”

“But surely the
Riven…”

Her father
interrupted her again. “Once you and Gregory were reborn, you both would make
short work of cleansing this Realm of the Riven.”

“But it would
take at least another ten years before Gregory or I could return.”

“Likely longer,”
her mother added. “Gregory, always choosing to return as a gargoyle, would be
battle ready long before you fully matured.”

“But by then the
Riven would have claimed hundreds of thousands of lives, if not more.”

“The Lord of the
Underworld deals in death. He would see it as an unpleasant set of
circumstances that might take longer than he’d like to fix, but all would be
set right in the end, with the Riven destroyed and the souls trapped within
freed.”

“And this is the
being Gregory reveres as noble?”

Her father
sighed. “Your thinking is that of a human. The Lord of the Underworld is
immortal. Ten or twenty years is nothing to him, a blink in time, a tiny drop,
it is as nothing compared to the long years of his existence.”

Lillian
shivered. To seek the Lord of the Underworld’s aid, was that her only option?
Was she brave enough to act upon it if it was? She liked to think she would be
brave enough to do what was right if that became the only path open to her.

She could never
allow either herself or Gregory to fall under the Battle Goddess’ power. But
the road to the Lord of the Underworld was one she wouldn’t be taking either,
not until she had exhausted all other options, for she knew that twenty year
delay would doom both the Clan and the Coven. They would be among the first the
Riven hunted down. Gran, Jason, Uncle Alan, Whitethorn, Greenborrow, the
unicorn and the pooka would all die, or worse, become hosts.

“I won’t serve
the Lady of Battles, and the Lord of the Underworld is only a very last resort.
I won’t doom this Realm, or those who raised and sheltered me simply to make my
own life easier. There must be another way to win Gregory back from the siren.”

Both her parents
relaxed.

“Good,”
Darkness’s voice sounded strained, “for no parent should have to help their
child find death.”

Lillian didn’t
delude herself into thinking she was as good at reading people as Gregory, but
she was certain that was honest concern in their eyes.

“You find
yourself in a difficult situation,” her mother said with a sad nod. “One of our
making. Your father and I didn’t know the Lady of Battles planned to trap one
of the Avatars, or we never would have made it so easy for her to use us to
beget a host body.”

Lillian laughed.
“I doubt willful agreement factors into any of the Battle Goddess’ plans. If
you had known and protested, I’m certain she would simply have found other,
less savory ways to get what she wanted.”

Pacing away from
her parents’ searching gazes helped her think. Out of the corner of her eye,
she watched as her little brother hunted something in the tall grasses, honing
his newly discovered gargoyle reflexes. He leapt forward and nabbed a bit of
brown fur in his jaws. A quick snap stopped its struggles. A rabbit, Lillian
idly noted, her thoughts galvanizing around her newly made decision.

She came back to
the center of the meadow where her parents waited. “Tell me more about the
slave collar.” There was no point calling the magical device anything other
than what it was.

“Once the final
spells are in place, the wardstones prevent tampering and once activated, none
but you will be able to command Gregory. You both must wear one for either to
work.” River held out the chunk of metal and jewels. Reluctantly, Lillian accepted
the command collar—it was almost as large as the slave collar. From a dream a
few months ago that was not in fact a dream at all, but the Battle Goddess’s
attempt to communicate with her, she remembered how immense the dark one was,
like the mythological Titans of old, towering taller than a lofty tree. Lillian
eyed the collar again. “A little small for a certain goddess, isn’t it?”

Her father
nodded. “The spells weren’t yet finalized and I was able to shape it into
something more to our needs.”

It hummed with
power. She thought she detected a slight vibration, almost like the device
possessed its own electrical power source.

Well it did have
a power source, after a fashion—layers upon layers of spells were woven into
the metal and jewels. She could feel them, sense them with that wildness in her
blood, her gargoyle heritage. But none of that told her what they were actually
designed to do.

“So they protect
the wearer from outside magic?”

“Yes,” her
mother said, then elaborated, “The Lady wanted them designed so her brother
couldn’t override their magic—not quickly at least. Of course, there are two
sets and they are supposed to be worn together. You and Gregory were to have
worn the slave collars and the Battle Goddess, the controlling bracelets. Used separately
as we plan, some of their inherent strength might be compromised, but they
should still prove enough to overcome Tethys’s enchantment. Neither set was
finished, but we were only able to steal this pair as General Gryton was
presently working on the other.”

“I’m sorry, but
I can’t do this to Gregory. Even if I trusted you implicitly, nothing you’ve
said guarantees these things won’t just hand us over into the Battle Goddess’
keeping. You, yourself, can’t know that for certain.”

Her father
sniffed at the bracelet with distaste. “Then don’t trust us alone. When Gregory
arrives, if he is lucid enough, have him examine the collars. He can verify I
did not miss anything or have sinister intentions. He will not tolerate them
near you if he thinks they are a danger to you.”

Lillian’s ears
perked up. She hadn’t thought of that possibility. And just before Gregory had
tried to drag her back to Tethys, he’d been talking. If not himself, at least
lucid. She just didn’t know if it would be enough to allow him to study the
collars with any kind of accuracy.

“Truthfully, I
do not like this plan,” her father admitted, “but there is little else that
will free Gregory from the siren now that her song has had time to dig deep
into his spirit, and nothing we will be able to get our hands on before General
Gryton learns this set is missing. He didn’t get his position by being slow of
wit. He’ll know almost instantly what has happened. Once he alerts the Lady of
Battles that she has been betrayed, nowhere within the Magic Realm will be safe
for any of us.”

Lillian’s ears
perked forward. “You said ‘little else’ not ‘nothing else’. What else can break
the siren’s spell?”

“Dragon’s
blood,” Lillian’s mother supplied. “It negates even the most powerful
enchantments—perhaps even the spells upon the collars, given enough time.
However, this siren is ancient, and would require blood from an equally ancient
dragon. Fae grow stronger with age. We would need a dragon of equal strength to
give its blood freely as it’s doubtful we could survive long enough to take it
by force.”