Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2) (22 page)

He awoke by
degrees, fighting off sleep as if it was one of his more insidious adversaries.
It clung to his mind, almost dragging him back to the land of slumber more than
once. With a mental snarl, that in the waking world might have been a sleepy
mumble at best, he shook off the clinging tendrils of sleep, and his mind
finally sharpened enough his other senses started to relay information to him.

That part of
him, buried deep in his brain where his soul resided, the one that always knew
where Lillian was and what her condition was, began feeding him details about
her. She was close at hand, her mind alert, scanning the world around her for
dangers while also keeping an eye on him. There was no panic or fear or pain,
no urgent need for him to wake to defend them—his weary body tried to convince
him that he could nap for a little while longer.

He snapped fully
alert then. No, that wasn’t his body’s weariness trying to woo him back to
sleep. It was most certainly the drags of an enchantment, one very powerful
one, too. Ah, yes Tethys, a demigod of the ocean. The spell had been broken.
Only a few fragments remained, but it was no wonder why he’d slept. That spell
was no trifling thing.

Another scan of
Lillian showed she wasn’t under the siren sway, though there was some residue
from where Tethys had tried to enslave her. Shame flared to life in his heart,
remembering how he’d chased Lillian down like a deer. Well, not a deer, she’d
put up a fight worthy of any gargoyle, and he was a little proud she’d been
able to out run him for well over two hours. Her speed and stamina would only
grow with practice and time.

Hearing was the
next sense to sharpen, and he tracked Lillian as she rose from her crouch and
paced over to him. He detected another emotion he hadn’t noticed earlier.
Anxiety. He reached farther and found her mind, her thoughts and emotions
coming to him.

Her distress and
worry was over something she’d done—worry that he’d be angry and never forgive
her for a rash mistake.

Gregory jerked
awake fully, bolting upright to discover what was causing his beloved so much
stress.

And he choked on
his first deep breath.

The second
wasn’t any better.

Glancing down at
himself, he found he was coated in a layer of the vilest smelling mud he’d ever
had the misfortune to encounter in all his lifetimes. Merciful Father, what had
he been doing? Rolling in a bog?

His gaze sought
Lillian, looking for an answer to this, since he didn’t remember how it had
come about.

Come to think of
it, there were a few other holes in his memory. He remembered the siren, and
hunting Lillian, capturing her and then losing her—to another gargoyle!
Lillian’s parents had come to her aid. Against him.

Had she called
them?

He feared she
must have.

“Hello, how are
you feeling?” Lillian asked, her voice held an edge of uncertainty.

“Like I’ve been
stomped on by the Lord of the Underworld,” he answered her truthfully. What had
happened? He hardly dared to breathe, for more than the obvious reason. It
couldn’t be good if Lillian was acting skittish around him.

“Fancy you
should mention him. He might be the only one able to save us from my
stupidity.”

Lillian ducked
her head and swallowed hard, he could see the muscles working in her throat and
could smell her guilt even over the stench of the bog mud. Why in light’s name
was he covered in the sticky crap?

He refocused his
attention on Lillian and said, “Tell me what has happened,” instead of the
‘what have you done, now?’ that he wanted to ask. Over and over, throughout
their many lifetimes, he’d always bowed to her command in every facet of their
lives except when it came to her protection. In that, his word was law. And
she’d always bowed to his demands without question.

But not in this
lifetime. This time around she repeatedly tried to protect him when she judged
him to be in danger, every time at the expense of her own safety. On one hand,
he secretly admired her for she valiantly defended those she loved, but on the
other hand, she was going to give him a stroke. He’d played with the idea of
tying her up to keep her out of trouble upon a few occasions this lifetime
already.

By her
expression, she’d found her way into another great steaming pile of trouble.

Perhaps he
should put serious thought into tying her up for her own protection.

Lillian’s eyes
narrowed.

“I caught that
one,” she said with a spark of anger, then seemed to change her mind and came
over and hugged him. “Maybe you should in the future if we survive this.”

He raised an
eyebrow.

“You know,” she
said in a weak voice. “Tie me up for safety’s sake. You’re going to hate me,
and I’ll deserve that hate.”

He was about to
say that was nonsense, but she tilted her chin up and brushed her mane back
from her neck and he saw it.

It circled her
neck, the golden glow of its spell shimmered ever so slightly in the moonlight.

****

With equal parts
shock, horror and disbelief, Gregory reached up and touched the twin to
Lillian’s tattoo where it circled his own neck. At his touch, the wardspells
flamed briefly but didn’t cause pain or otherwise incapacitate him.

The stirring of
power was more of a warning. One Gregory acknowledged by moving his fingers
away from the slightly raised skin.

“Lillian,” he
pitched his voice low, holding steel in the tone. He needed answers not
evasions, or worse, apologies. “Tell me what happened. Tell me everything.
Leave out no details. It might mean our survival.”

Lillian
swallowed nervously, but she started to speak, haltingly at first, and then
with more certainty. “I’ll tell you what I remember and what I think I know.”
She paused and fidgeted with the tattoo around her own neck. “There were times
when things became foggy. The siren almost rolled me under with her tidal power
more than once. I only escaped because you fought, and she had to turn all her
attention back to you or risk losing us both.”

What she told
him coincided with the few snippets he did remember when he wasn’t fully under
Tethys’ control. He still didn’t relax since nothing she’d said even remotely
hinted at an explanation about the powerful weaving circling their necks.

She continued
her tale, and Gregory interrupted at key parts for clarification. A hollow pit
opened up in his middle where his stomach should have resided. He’d never been
ill a day in any of his lives, but for the first time he thought he just might
discover what it felt like to heave up one’s last meal.

Lillian
described how she’d escaped from the siren through the help of a spell laid
upon her by her grandmother.

Gregory’s
emotions churned within him, hopelessly out of his control—part guilt that he
hadn’t been strong enough to fight off the siren’s spell, and part anger over
the fact her grandmother had led Lillian into danger in the first place. What was
Vivian thinking?

“Why didn’t you
stay away where you would have been safe? Why must you always act so rashly?”
The words flowed out of him. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but more came
flying out. “Had you only gone to ground somewhere, I would have remained as
stone, out of the siren’s reach.”

Lillian jerked
like he’d slapped her. Then her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. With her
tail flicking in agitation, her anger was impossible to miss. “Well forgive me
for caring, I was concerned,” she snapped her teeth at him, her wings
unfurrowing as if she prepared for a physical fight. “Tethys was enslaving
everyone in sight.”

“And you, what?
Thought it would be a good idea to make it easier to get to me through you.”

“You’re being an
ass,” she said and whirled away from him and then spun around and slapped him
on the chest. “How dare you judge me? If our positions had been reversed, you
would have run to my side without a second thought, even if I’d been standing
upon the steps leading up to the Lady of Battles’ bloody throne. So you don’t
get to judge me for coming to your rescue.”

“I protect you.
It’s my purpose.”

“Says who? Did
the Father sit you down on his knee when you were a mere speck of power and
tell you that was your role?”

“It was
implied!”

“Ha. I call
bullshit! We’re two halves of the same being, equal in power and purpose.” She
smacked him along one arm for emphasis. “I bet in the beginning we were more
similar than we were different. How could we not. We were one creature. Did our
separate personalities develop over time? It makes sense in a way. You always
choose to be born as a gargoyle, whereas, from what you’ve said in the past,
I’m more varied in my choice of forms. You’re stuck in a rut. Always choosing
to be a gargoyle, imbibing more and more of their nature into your own.
Gargoyles are protective by their very nature, it’s hardwired into them, and
it’s becoming hardwired into you. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me to my face without
lying. Go on tell me.”

“Why must you
question everything? Can’t you just do what you’re told?”

“Do what I’m
told? Like a child! Is that what you think I am? I’m twenty-one. By human
standards, I am an adult. Start treating me like one.”

Gregory slapped
his ears flat against his mane. “I’ll start treating you as an adult when your
actions show a rational, mature reasoning behind them. Choosing agents
belonging to the Lady of Battles over Tethys is not a mistake my Sorceress
would ever have made.”

“Well, I’m not
your Sorceress, am I? I don’t have her memories or her magic. I don’t even
possess her soul at the moment. My hamadryad stripped me of all that. Even she
didn’t think I was worthy.” Her voice quivered and she turned from him.

“Lillian, it’s
not…that’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s still
true. An ugly truth, but true all the same.”

“No,” Gregory
said, feeling again that sick heaviness in his middle, but for different
reasons this time. His words had harmed her, and he would do anything to take
back that pain. “Your spirit is beautiful. You’re brave, noble and protect
those you love with everything within you. Perhaps you’re not, at present, the
Mother’s Avatar, but you are and always will be
my
Sorceress.”

Lillian turned
back to him. “But I lack her power and we sorely need it.”

She fell silent
and so did he. In good faith, he couldn’t contradict her.

“We’re supposed
to be equals, Gregory. But we’re not.”

He sighed,
feeling cold seep into his body. “I know.”

She gripped his
chin and lifted it until his gaze was level with her throat. “I may not be the
Mother’s Sorceress at the moment, but as a mature adult, I accept that this,”
she touched the tattoo-like brand, “is one hundred percent my fault, and the
stupidest thing I’ve ever done and that it might get us killed. I gambled and
lost. Yep. My epic fail. But I had to try to get you away from Tethys. She was
going to use you, use us, to kill humans by the millions.”

“All the Magic
Realm will suffer if the Lady of Battles can now command us.”

Lillian flashed
fang. “So save the Magic Realm and screw all the humans in the Mortal Realm?”
she sounded more tired than angry, or perhaps defeated was a better word. He
could understand that emotion.

He shook his
head, his own anger and frustration spent. “All the Realms will suffer equally
under the Battle Goddess’s rule.”

“Okay, that’s a
trump. You win this round.” Lillian drew in a big breath, her shoulders
squaring, and with a little shake, she seemed to rid herself of her weariness.
“We’ll just have to defeat her, but first we need to free our allies from the
siren. As I see it, I tossed a wrench in her plans. I’m free of her influence
and, now, so are you.” She gestured at him. “You’re coherent and capable of
logical thought. Which, I might add, you couldn’t have claimed two hours ago.”

Gregory drew in
a deep breath, and let it out again. He couldn’t really counter her argument
this time either. He had been, without a doubt, firmly under the siren’s sway.

Oh, but he knew
in his gut Tethys would have been a better choice for the greater good of all.
“It shames me I failed you so badly, that you were forced to make such a
terrible choice to begin with.”

Lillian took
three swift steps toward him, and then she was hugging him with all the
strength in her arms, even her wings came up to encircle him. “Can we stop
raking ourselves and each other over the coals for a while?”

“Yes.” He hugged
her back, the act giving him much needed comfort.

“Promise?”

“Yes,” he
rumbled, “And, Lillian, it is you as you are now, sweet and rash dryad and
fierce and equally rash gargoyle, who has captured my heart. You, not the
Sorceress of old, which I fell in love with all over again in this life.”