Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2) (4 page)

Gregory huffed.

“We’re Avatars.
Surely we have a duty to protect the humans of this world?”

“Perhaps, but
it’s not a primary one,” Gregory said, looking thoughtful once more. “As
Avatars, our first and foremost role is to act as physical vessels for the
Divine Ones to pour their power and essence into so they can come together to
beget offspring in a way that doesn’t jeopardize all their creation. An age can
come and pass before they choose to call on us for that task, but we have a
long and varied list of other duties to perform when our primary function is
not required.”

“Yah, I remember
the coming together equals a ‘glorious death’—as in ours—‘to give new life’
speech. Someone needs to tell the Divine Ones that seems a steep price to pay
for a little fun in the sack.”

Gregory’s one
ear flicked forward and then back, but otherwise he didn’t move a muscle,
trying to stare her down instead, she suspected. Or perhaps she’d struck him
speechless.

Finally he
blinked, and then started to laugh. “When this life is over, and we once again
walk in the Spirit Realm as one being, we must remember to mention what you
said to our creators. Perhaps they will grant us some freedoms in the next life
they have never given before, and we have never thought to ask.”

Lillian crossed
her arms. “You’re making fun of me again, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.”

“Thanks, love
you too.”

“Our thoughts,
desires, and motivations are so different when we shed our mortal bodies and
become one being in the Spirit Realm, I sometimes forget you cannot remember
how it is. We have never been unhappy—frustrated, yes,” he chuckled, and took
her hand in his again, “but never unhappy with our lot.”

“I know. I’m
sorry.” Lillian sighed, and fought to bury her more cynical side, the one which
wanted to challenge and question and pick apart every little detail to
understand what made them tick.

A throat cleared
behind them, and Lillian remembered they had an audience, a rapt one by
Greenborrow’s fascinated expression. Whitethorn, who had been the one to clear
his throat, nodded his head in the universal signal to continue.

Lillian flushed
slightly, then asked, “But you might be convinced to aid the humans?”

Gregory bobbed
his head. “If they do not get in my way.” He paused and Lillian watched him
struggle for the right word. “I cannot risk two realms, not even to save a few
innocent mortals.”

Lillian could be
just as stubborn. “But you will try to protect the humans if at all possible,
yes?”

Gregory’s ear
flicked to half-mast position in what Lillian was coming to recognize as the
gargoyle version of a flinch. “Yes. All innocents deserve our protection.”

“Thank you.”
Lillian reached out and grasped his hands, wanting to show him she knew he
wasn’t finding this life or this world easy to acclimatize to. “I know all this
would be so much easier if I had your Sorceress’ memories.”

Gregory stood
and stretched, still keeping her fingers trapped within his. “You will one day
remember all that has been lost.”

“I guess I’ll just
wait for that day,” Lillian sighed out dejectedly.

“It will only be
for a short while, as we judge time, before you regain your memories and all
else you once were.” Gregory sighed and butted his head against her chest hard
enough to make her sway.

“Stop it. You’ve
got work to do.”

He sighed a
second time, giving her a much put out look. “Yes.”

Whitethorn bowed
to them both. “I will ask all available sidhe metalsmiths to come to your aid,
and Greenborrow will do the same among the rest of the Clan.” He tilted his
head in the leshii’s direction. Greenborrow nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“In the
meantime, until the metalsmiths have arrived, I will construct some defensive
spells to warn us should the Riven attempt to invade our lands. While the
spells will cover a vast area, they will be temporary, lasting mere days in
this Realm. However, they will help until the next Wild Hunt can run.”

“We are honored
to have your protection.” Whitethorn folded his arms across his chest and bowed
at the waist.

“Until later,
then,” Gregory said and started away from the small clearing where they’d
talked. Lillian followed, curious about how he would place magic enchantments
over a large area. She might lack her own magic at present, but that would not
always be the case, and at the very least she could watch and learn.

Gregory walked a
short distance and dropped to all fours. He circled back and sidled up next to
her. His one wing dipped in invitation, baring his broad shoulders and back.
His tail snaked around her hips before she thought to try and backpedal out of
immediate danger. But it was too late and his muscular tail dragged her closer
to his back.

“I’m not tired.
I can walk, really!”

Gregory coughed,
or it might have been a laugh. Lillian failed to find the humor in the
situation. He wanted her to ride gargoyle-back, as it were, and she wanted
nothing more than to avoid that fate.

Last time, she’d
found the whole situation too bumpy, too fast, too scary, and far too
intimate—equal parts awkward and thrilling at the same time. And this time, she
feared she might not find it so bumpy or scary.

“This is
probably a bad idea.” Lillian ran possible scenarios through her mind. “I might
fall off and break something.”

“Now who is
lying? Besides, I won’t let you fall.” Gregory forced her closer. It was get on
his back or be flipped over it to land painfully on the ground on the other
side.

Lillian decided
to save what dignity she still possessed and tossed a leg over his back and
settled in place. Gregory’s wings folded tight to either side of her thighs,
locking her in place. She knew from previous rides she was actually as secure
as she would be if she buckled herself into a car. Probably more so. Gregory
looked out for her welfare—a car was far more indifferent.

The siren
glanced up uneasily at the ocean’s ceiling. A mirror-bright, cerulean blue
reflected from the upper realm, a world of air and strange destinies; a world
she’d soon have to explore.

She swam for
hours, unable to find the source of the oily taint she inhaled with each
flutter of her gills. It was everywhere, had worked its way into every reef,
school of fish, and patch of kelp she encountered. While she did find life, it
was not thriving as it should. The underwater world, her realm to protect, was
changing, its magic diminishing, its species no longer as numerous as they once
had been.

Even the great
whales were not untouched. From them she gathered more knowledge. As she’d
suspected, humans were responsible. The whales’ perception of the source of the
taint—some cataclysm—was vague, the details scattered and full of holes. They
could only relate what they themselves had heard, but they spoke of a family of
dolphins that had witnessed the event.

With greater
determination, Tethys set out to find the dolphins.

****

For leagues, the
siren swam, her anger banked, but still glowing like a land-bound’s fire.
Around her, the ocean’s waters raged in sympathy. White capped waves rolled
away from her location with greater and greater frequency.

A soft clicking
sounded in the distance. Twisting her body, she whipped around, honing in on
the location. The water carried the sound from a long ways, but it was still
distinguishable as dolphin speech even over the deep drone of the raging seas.

They sang their
approach across the vastness of the ocean. A small pod of six pale grey shapes
drew closer, their compact bodies elegant in the water. As the dolphins neared,
the ocean calmed, and Tethys let the last of her rage go. She’d never been able
to remain angry in the presence of the playful ones.

With a lighter
heart, she went to meet them. The first dolphin broke rank and bolted ahead of
the others. A young male, his curiosity clear by his body language and
chattering clicks. He swam close enough to bump his nose against her tail
before his bravery deserted him, and he darted back to the rest of his family
pod.

The other
members of the family, perhaps older and wiser, held back, studying her. The
young male broke rank a second time and slid closer. He continued to chatter at
her, questioning what she was. She answered in kind, the clicks and whistles a
language she’d mastered long ago.

At length, she
explained to the dolphin family who and what she was, and they gave her their
names in turn.

A deluge of playful
greetings distracted her from other, darker questions. It wasn’t until they had
hunted together and were well fed that Tethys asked about the condition of the
air and water. Her line of questioning was too complex at first. The results
were a mix of confusing clicks and meaningless whistles.

She tapped the
fingers of one hand along her flank and tried another question.

“What makes
the water taste bad?”

There was more
clicking and swift darting bodies as the group worked out a spokesperson.

The young male
ignored his elders’ debate and answered the siren.
“The Not-Island sank.”

“Not-Island?”
She asked, hoping for something more conclusive.

The oldest
matriarch of the pod bumped the young male aside, scolding him in the process.
Once she was finished, she came alongside the siren. They swam with near
perfect unity for several body lengths, and then Tethys reached out a hand to
rest on the dolphin’s side.

At the contact,
a confusing series of images marched through her head. A great metal monster
perched out in the ocean, close to shore. Its metal roots borrowing deep into
the earth’s crust.

Above the
surface, bright flames burned on the metal Not-Island. Darkness floated upon
the water and impossibly, burned there too. Great poisonous clouds billowed up
into the air.

Humans had
jumped from the metal island, trying to escape their own folly. The dolphin pod
circled farther out, wanting to help the humans, but too afraid of the
monstrous island to come near enough.

More humans
arrived in boats, rescuing their fellows. They battled the fierce blaze for a
time, but it proved too much, and the heat pushed them back.

Both humans and
dolphin pod watched as the structure weakened. Then with a great, tortured
groan, the whole of it twisted sideways. Pieces of debris sheared off, dropping
into the water below with great splashes and much hissing of steam. Another
long stretch of time passed, then finally the massive Not-Island died,
collapsing down into the ocean. Like a Leviathan with its spine severed, chunks
of metal piping twisted and crumpled upon themselves as it made its slow,
painful way to the ocean floor.

The fires on the
surface burned out, the sounds of tortured metal ceased, and the ocean grew
silent once again.

To Tethys’
horror, she realized it was only the beginning.

Oily black death
bubbled out of the earth as if a vein had been severed, spreading an ever
enlarging stain upon the ocean realm.

For days upon
days, humans had scurried about in boats. Their actions desperate and
ineffectual against such an insidious enemy.

The dolphins had
stayed in the region to learn if the disaster would be contained, but the
waters grew steadily more tainted, fish sickened and died or fled the area. Sea
birds and other life succumbed to the black menace.

With no other
choice the dolphins abandoned their hunting grounds, following the schools of
fish, and left the humans to battle their mistake.

The siren sensed
it took the humans days to stop the leak, far longer than it should have. A
year passed, the ocean defused the toxins, and the humans’ clean up continued.
Yet she could still taste the legacy of disaster.

Her tail flicked
with agitation and her mind filled with thoughts of hate and revenge, but she
forced herself to calm as she faced the dolphin matriarch.

The dolphins
were fond of the land-bound humans for some reason she’d never been able to
comprehend.

“Where can I
find knowledgeable humans? Ones with water and land wisdom?”

“You seek
searchers and studiers?”
The matriarch chirped.

Tethys nodded at
the female’s question.
“Yes, I require those with knowledge so I might learn
from them.”

“Friendly
ones that like us. We show you.”

The dolphin
darted off, angling toward the far distant shore. The siren and the rest of the
pod followed.

As they travel
just under the blue mirror, the young male who had first approached her bumped
her again. In a burst of juvenile enthusiasm, the youngling broke the surface
and arched through the air.

With barely a
splash, he dove back in, and with three powerful tail flips he was back at her
side, nudging her to play. Subduing her anger at the humans, she opened her
heart to the dolphins’ joy of life. Arching her back and swishing her tail in
rapid, strong strokes she clipped the young male with her tail as she darted
toward the surface.

Chirping wildly,
the male gave chase. Seconds later, they broke the surface together, curving
through the air before they fell back into the cool embrace of Mother Ocean.

The rest of the
pod joined in the fun of surf dancing, leaping and twisting into the air. When
they tired of the game, they hunted schools of fish. All the while, the dolphin
matriarch guided her family under Tethys’ watchful eye.