A moment later, the magic feeding the
viewing mirror dwindled to a trickle. The images of the other world quivered
and shattered into a hundred grains of light and misted away into nothing.
“I’m not sure if Gryton bought my little
deception. He may send my mother sooner than expected,” Lillian said, then
nibbled at her lower lip in a way Gregory found interesting.
Gregory struggled into a sitting position,
trying not to dwell on how soft and warm she was, or how much he liked her
weight pressing against him. Instead he snatched at the first question that
came to mind “Why did you ask for your parents?”
She let him up, then sat on the edge of the
bed. “I had to do something to pacify Gryton’s suspicions. He wouldn’t expect
me to ask for help if I had something to hide. Besides, I want to rescue my
father. He’s been a prisoner all my life. Even as a child, I wanted to help
him.”
“And your mother? What of her?”
“My mother was born and raised in there.
That life is all she knows. From what I remember, she isn’t evil, but she does
serve the Lady of Battles.”
“Then she is evil.” He drew a deep breath.
At least in his human form, without her dryad scent affecting him like a drug,
he could almost think clearly.
“You don’t know everything about the
politics there. Those who serve the Lady of Battles do so because they see her
as a lesser evil.”
He schooled his features into a neutral
expression. He wanted to hear her words without his reactions influencing them.
“Not everyone within the Lady’s domain is
evil. At least not compared to the demons which have been allowed to spread
unchecked since the Twins went to war.”
He tilted his head to one side and remained
silent.
Lillian crossed her arms. “These are not
the lies the Lady of Battles tried to feed me. Many of her army started out
serving the Divine Ones, but made mistakes along the way until they couldn’t
face the Light. When the Light shunned them, they sought a life elsewhere. And
the Lady of Battles will give shelter to any who will serve her in her fight
against her brother.”
“Your words sound reasonable. I’ll agree
with some of what you say, but it doesn’t mean they can be saved.”
“I’m not the Lady’s tool,” she said in a
voice tinted with anger. Then it softened. “At least not yet.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not defending Gryton or his kind.
I just wanted you to understand some of them didn’t have a choice. This wasn’t
a life they chose. They were forced into it by circumstance. Some still honor
their ancient duty and guard the Veil between the Realms, preventing more
demons from escaping into the other realms. We may be able to use that to our
advantage one day.”
“Very well. I will keep that in mind,” he
mumbled, his mind already focused on the next problem. He did some quick math.
Time was faster here than in the Magic Realm, but even then, without an exact
arrival time, he might have less than two weeks to prepare before Lillian’s
mother came, trailed by her pet gargoyle. “Do you think your mother can be
reasoned with?”
“My mother loved both me and my father in
her own strange way. And my father was more prisoner than willing subject to
the Lady of Battles. That was when I was a child. I don’t know what has changed
while I was here.”
His stomach churned. No matter that it
should have been impossible to change a gargoyle’s allegiance; it had been
done. And if it could happen to one gargoyle, Gregory wasn’t arrogant enough to
believe it couldn’t be done again.
With Lillian sitting on her bed, watching
him through her lashes, he didn’t doubt he could be swayed from the Light if he
didn’t guard against it. It would be all too easy. He thought he knew how the other
gargoyle’s protective nature might have been used against him. A dryad surrounded
by enemies would be something vulnerable in need of protection. Lillian’s
father had probably thought her mother was a fellow prisoner.
Gregory would do anything to protect
Lillian. He wasn’t certain he’d have fared any better than that other gargoyle.
A warm hand cupped his cheek. Lillian
tilted his head until she was looking into his eyes. “I’ll not let what
happened to my father happen to you. Our love isn’t a weapon for the Lady of
Battles to use against you. I will not allow it.” She came to her knees and
placed her hands on his shoulders. “That’s why you need to put your spell back
on my mind. By blocking my memories, you inadvertently halted the Lady’s
handiwork.”
“I don’t understand.” There was so much he
didn’t know, and he didn’t like feeling helpless.
“Everything you’ve speculated about is
true. The darkness growing in me is a demon soul. I can feel its foreign magic
where the Lady of Battles grafted it onto my spirit. You were right when you
thought of it as my bestial side. She created me to grow and transform into
something greater than a dryad. Whatever I become, I fear I’ll be far more
dangerous to you. Like a seed, this poor tortured soul needs me to call on my
magic to grow. She feeds on my emotions, my deep love for you. And on my
ancient knowledge, growing stronger until one day she will consume me—or twist
me into something so different, I’ll wish I didn’t remember anything.” Lillian
paused, her expression no longer serene. Tears glistened at the corner of her
eyes. “Your wards upon my memories blocked the demon’s memories, too. And the
lack of magic in this realm inhibited its growth. Until the last few days, the
demon soul slept, but now she remembers her purpose. I’m running out of time. I
don’t know what to do to save us, but I can’t let her harm you.”
Gregory couldn’t watch her struggle, and he
gathered her to his chest. He tucked her head against his shoulder and rocked
her gently. “I’ll find this dark seed and dig it out.”
The tension leaked out of her smaller frame
and she relaxed against him. “You can’t. The Lady of Battles expects something
like that. If you try, the demon soul will trigger a spell woven of the
blackest magic, killing us both, as well as anyone with the misfortune to be
too close. But it will not stop there. It will deliver both our souls to the
Lady, and she will begin again. You must find another way to disable the demon
soul. Wrap it in so many layers of magic it can never escape while I live. If
that fails, you must take me to the Lord of the Underworld; he will prevent my
spirit from being recaptured by his sister. I think my soul would die if I
harmed or enslaved you. Promise me you’ll surrender me to Death’s mercy if you
can’t help me. I don’t want to become the Lady of Battles’ creature, not if it
means betraying the love between us.”
No. His soul rebelled at the thought of
handing her over to the Lord of the Underworld. He’d be sealing her death. It
would be like killing her himself.
“I’ll need your help. The Lady of Battles
will have built traps to prevent me from seeking her brother.”
“I can’t,” he growled as he crushed her
against him. “Ask me anything else, but please don’t ask me to help you die. I
won’t do it.”
She continued to run her hands along his
back, soothing, pleading for him to listen. “For now, you must put the block
back on my memories and my magic. That will give you a little more time to try
to find a way to stop the darkness growing in me. But if there is no cure, you
must take me to the Lord of the Underworld before the demon enslaves us both.”
She leaned into him and rested her head against his chest, over his heart.
His hand shook as he reached out to stroke
her hair. He wanted to cry or rage—anything to ease the horror thickening in
his veins. “Please, I can’t do what you ask.”
“Shh.” She placed a finger across his lips.
“It will be alright. The Lord of the Underworld will free my soul to return to
the Spirit Realm, and then I’ll be reborn again. We’ll not be parted long.”
“No.” Changing his grip on her, he sought
her lips to stop her flow of words. He projected his ancient love for her and
his more recent desire until she returned his kiss with heat. Small, almost
purring sounds escaped her. Molten fire shot through his veins at the sign of
her pleasure. He flipped her onto her back, pressing her into the bed. She
melted under him, warm, willing. He shivered at the soft caress of her fingers
along his skin, intensely aware of her body pressing against his, how she
spread her legs so he fit perfectly between her thighs. Gods, he wanted this,
needed the other half of his soul.
“Hmm.” She turned her head, breaking the
kiss.
He growled in frustration.
“Gregory, no.” Lillian’s breath came in
uneven gasps. “The Lady wants us to get lost in our passions, but we must never
forget our duty.”
It took him longer to gather his own scattered
thoughts. “You talk of duty and yet ask me to help you die.” He buried his face
in her hair, refusing to look at her. “My duty is to protect you. If I break
that oath, then I no longer serve any duty. Nothing is more forbidden than what
you ask.”
“All you need to do is help me find the
Lord of the Underworld.”
“No.” He pushed himself up and leapt off
the bed, catching the corner of the nightstand in his hurry to escape her
words. It teetered for a moment, then clattered to the ground, drawers spilling
across the floor. Uncaring, he continued backing up until his back hit the wall
behind. “Don’t ask me again. I’ll have no part in your death. I’ll block your
memories and do what I can to block your use of magic. I’ll find a cure, no
matter what. I’m not going to let you die because of the Lady of Battles’
manipulations. Death will claim us one day, but not like this.”
“Easy. It’s alright. I’ll not ask that of
you again.” The Sorceress patted the bed. “Come back to me. I want to hold you
for a little while before you make me forget.”
A small, satisfied smile curved her lips as
he inched back toward the bed. Was it his imagination or did she enjoy watching
him struggle with his reactions to her? Her expression softened and she
motioned him to come closer.
Uncertain of the wisdom in getting within
touching distance, but wanting to be near her too much to care about the
outcome, he glided the last of the way to her side and eased back onto the bed.
A moment later she curled into him, and her arms came around him. It was a
fragile peace. One he was terrified wouldn’t last.
“I love you,” she murmured against his
shoulder. “Let me have this one perfect moment. After I fall asleep, block my
memories.”
He held her until her breath evened in
sleep, then he summoned his magic, placing the wards upon her mind one layer at
a time. When he was finished, he reverted to his gargoyle form and buried his
muzzle in her hair.
“I love you too, my Sorceress.” Surely his
heart was shattering, it ached so much. The overwhelming need to show her how
much he loved her threatened to strip him of his reason, and yet he was afraid.
His simple words of love didn’t begin to
encompass what she meant to him. He couldn’t fool himself anymore. He no longer
served the Divine Ones first and then the Sorceress—he served her above all
else.
As a restless sleep came to claim him, the
last thing he dwelled on was what to do if he couldn’t find a cure for her. Her
death was not an option, not for him. A small selfish part of his soul planted
the seeds of a solution.
Perhaps he could bargain with the Lady of
Battles—become one of her army in exchange for Lillian’s freedom. If what
Lillian said about the Lady’s army guarding the Veil between the realms was
correct, he might be able to become one of them without completely betraying
himself, or what it meant to be the Sorceress’s Protector.
He closed his eyes and rested his head on
her breast, listening to the throb of her heart until sleep claimed him at
last.
Lillian awoke to find Gregory hogging all
of the bed. The damp heat of his breath washed over her shoulder where he’d
buried his muzzle in her hair. If she could feel that, she supposed she wasn’t
a ghost, so she’d survived whatever he’d done. She felt no different than
before; there was no river of memories flowing from the depths of her mind like
she’d half expected. All those lives he’d alluded to; why couldn’t she remember
her past?
But with him spooning her, his wings
warming her better than an electric blanket, she could forget her worries for
now. She listened to the throb of his heart as she lay tucked safely in her
nest. With her head resting on his bicep, she had a clear view straight down
the length of his arm. Every few seconds, his fist would clench and his talons
flex. She raised her head.
He growled and twitched in his sleep, in
the grip of a nightmare. When she turned toward him and rested a hand on his
chest, it calmed him, his twitching and struggles lessening.
“Easy, Gregory,” she soothed. “I’m here.
There’s no danger.” Curious, she lowered her shields and reached for him with
her mind, and like the few times she’d done it by accident, his mind opened—his
thoughts and emotions sweeping into her. After a moment, she sorted through the
chaos until she found the source of his nightmare.
Last night unfolded in his thoughts. His
guilt over causing her pain, the triggering of the trap on her soul, the window
to another world, his love intertwined with bone-deep desire—his every worry
and fear replayed within her mind. And then the horror of hearing her other
self say she wanted him to help her die if he couldn’t find a cure.
“Why, that selfish, sanctimonious bitch.”
She stroked Gregory’s mane until he calmed. “How dare she put it all on you? Heal
me or kill me. What kind of bullshit is that? My poor gargoyle. No wonder
you’re having nightmares. That’s a horrible thing to ask. I’ve heard of
multiple personalities, but this is crazy. She even seduced you with
my
body to get her way,” Lillian grumbled, and then mulled over the situation. She
still didn’t have her old memories back, but after what she’d learned from
Gregory, she didn’t think she wanted to be that person, anyway.
Apparently, she was evil.
She expected to feel something. Great
sorrow, fear, mind-numbing shock. Something. Anything. But there was nothing,
not unless being monumentally pissed off at her “older self” counted. Then,
slowly, a greater concern crept into her consciousness. What if that wasn’t her
old self at all? What if it was the demon soul testing Gregory’s resolve?
Lillian remembered Gregory’s final thoughts before he drifted off to sleep. If
it had been the demon soul in control last night, it had almost found a way to
sway the gargoyle to the Lady of Battles’ cause. It made sense. The demon
obviously wasn’t strong enough to take on Gregory in a fair fight yet, so it
demanded he kill his beloved Sorceress, the one thing that would off balance
him more than anything else.
Faced with that impossible choice, becoming
one of the Lady’s army and guarding the Veil between the realms might not look
so bad from Gregory’s point of view. It would be one way to serve without
completely betraying his oath to protect his Sorceress. Once the demon had sewn
that bit of discord, it had crawled back into Lillian’s soul like a djinn
returning to its bottle where it waited for the next chance to betray its
master. Damn it all to hell. Her theory was utterly, horribly plausible—she
just didn’t have a scrap of evidence to prove it.
It didn’t really matter if it was the demon
or Lillian’s older self, the problem was still the same. Sooner or later,
something was going to take her over.
“Fine. I’m evil. I’ll deal with this,
somehow. You won’t have to,” she told the sleeping gargoyle. Leaning forward,
she kissed him on the forehead between his horns.
Then, deciding she’d better get up before
he figured out she’d learned some important details he’d planned to keep from
her, she scooted out of bed. A shower and proper clothes were the first order
of business, followed by coffee. Maybe by then she’d have come up with a plan
so Gregory wouldn’t have to make choices that would destroy him.
Hell, a chainsaw to her tree might solve
everyone’s problems, but she doubted she’d be able to accomplish it with the
gargoyle and the unicorn always on guard—not to mention, she’d probably pass
out at the first cut.
* * *
The bathroom door’s hinges creaked as she
opened it. Lillian winced at the jarring sound. Gregory bolted upright on the
bed, his surprise and confusion evident by his peaked ears and flared nostrils
while he took in his surroundings. Calming down, he extracted himself from the
sheets and eased off the bed. He turned his back to her and tidied the sheets.
“Morning,” she said. Her greeting sounded
more cheerful than she’d intended. Odd that Gregory seemed not to notice her
forced note.
He returned her greeting after a short
pause. Brushing her damp hair out of her face, she narrowed her eyes. If she
hadn’t known what had transpired last night, she would have just thought he was
still half asleep. But she knew better. Gregory couldn’t tell a lie to save his
life. With his back to her, she couldn’t read what was written on his face, but
if she could see, she thought she’d see shame and embarrassment.
She cleared her throat and prepared to lie.
“Since I’m still alive, I assume everything went well.”
“Yes, you passed the test to everyone’s
satisfaction.” The gargoyle returned her lie.
“Then I think I’ll go hunt up some
breakfast for us.” She smiled, a stiff-muscled expression, just in case he
happened to look her way. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
He nodded and vanished into the bathroom.
As far as she could tell, he still hadn’t detected her lie. The truth must be
so much worse than she thought if he was so distracted he didn’t catch the lie
in her voice.
She fled, leaving behind the gargoyle and
the room full of deceit.
Downstairs, the living room was empty, but
murmuring voices drew her toward the back of the house. When she reached the
kitchen, Gran and the pooka stood close together, deep in conversation.
Gran looked up. Her expression flashed from
worry back to her usual jovial look so fast, Lillian nearly missed the slight
change.
“I saved you some muffins, and there’s fresh
coffee,” Gran said as she gestured absently at the kitchen counter.
While Lillian mechanically took a bite out
of a muffin, the pooka edged closer to her. His equine eyes, while not
friendly, were less hostile than she remembered. Had she been better at reading
body language, she’d have said the pooka wanted something.
“Come walk with me. There’s something I
want to tell you,” Gran said, interrupting Lillian’s thoughts about what a
pooka might want from her.
Lillian allowed herself to be herded out
the sliding door and onto the back porch. A warm breeze beckoned her to walk
the maze, but she needed to know if Gran would lie to her. “What is it? Did I
fail the test? Are the others going to try to harm me?”
Gran’s eyes widened, surprise warring with
displeasure. “No one will harm you, and while some of them are not satisfied
with all they learned, we all agree we have more immediate concerns.”
“So there
is
something amiss with
me.”
“Not to cause you more worry, but do you
think you’d still be here if you harbored evil within you? I’m sure the
gargoyle would kill you himself if he thought you evil. The Clan is more
concerned by the vast amount of power at your command, and your lack of
training to control it.”
“Then I’ll be careful not to draw on power
when Gregory can’t help me control it.” Lillian’s stomach soured at Gran’s
lies. Her family knew what the gargoyle had tried to hide. She wanted to crawl
away somewhere deep and dark.
“While you and Gregory rested, the rest of
us have been finalizing our plans. If the Riven want a fight, we’ll give them
one. The dire wolves think they’ve found one of the daytime lairs of the Riven.
We’ll take some of the Pack and check it out. I want you to stay here. There’s
enough wards on this land to protect you and the other dryads while we’re
away.”
Lillian nodded. “What about Gregory?”
“If he can bring himself to leave your
side, I imagine he’d like another chance to take out some vampires.”
“It sounds too dangerous. I . . .”
I
should be the one to go since I’m already evil.
But Lillian held her
silence, unable to voice her concerns without revealing she knew more than she
was supposed to. “I don’t want him or any of you to go.”
Perhaps understanding the root of Lillian’s
fear, Gran sobered. “Don’t worry honey, we’re all aware of those wretched
daggers, and we won’t let them in past our guard. We’re better prepared now. They’ll
find we’re not so easy to defeat this time.”
Gran’s words didn’t sooth the tension in
Lillian’s shoulders where fear had lodged along her spine. Sweat dampened her
palms. She rubbed them along her jeans. Her fingers felt stiff. After a moment,
she’d started rubbing the base of each nail and realized they were actually
itchy and aching, like she’d grabbed a fistful of poison ivy—or like the time
Gregory had been injured, just before she’d blacked out.
Gran continued to speak, but Lillian no
longer heard. Something rose within her: an alarm flaring within her mind.
Lillian opened her mouth, about to say she didn’t want them to go without her
when the ground shook. Nearby birds erupted into flight.
An inhuman scream split the air, high,
eerie. Fast on its heels, the low rumbling growl of a dire wolf joined it. The
growl, too, was cut short, ending in a yelp. Like a river in a flash flood, a
wave of power broke across Lillian’s skin. She grasped at the magic but it
slithered between her fingers and raced away. A familiar scent lingered.
“What was that?” Lillian jerked her head in
the direction the commotion emanated, then turned to look at her grandmother.
“Jason,” Gran cried, her eyes narrowed, her
features stilling. “That was a witch’s staff being shattered. The Riven have
Jason.”
Such cold rage looked foreign on her
grandmother’s face. Before Lillian had a chance to react, Gran was pushing her
in the direction of the house.
“Go,” Gran ordered. “It’s a raid. They’re
attacking the wards. Get to the house and tell the others. I’m not letting them
take any more of my family.”
A protest died on Lillian’s lips. Gran was
already running toward the unseen danger, unarmed. Every cell in Lillian’s body
screamed to follow her grandmother, to challenge whatever had invaded her home
and taken her brother, but reason prevailed. She’d need a weapon first.
She turned toward the house just as an
immense black shadow skidded to a stop at her side. Gregory was on all fours,
Gran’s quarterstaff clutched in his jaws. He spat it out so he could speak.
“Get on my back; I’ll take you to the
house. My wards there will assure your safety. Once you’re safe, I’ll return
for Vivian.”
“No! Go help my grandmother. I’m fine.”
“I can’t leave you. And I won’t take you
into battle with me.” He butted her in the stomach, like he could physically
herd her to safety.
Lillian gasped and stumbled a few steps
before she caught her balance. “I’ll go to the house, but you need to help Gran
rescue Jason. She said the Riven were attacking the wards. If they breach the
defenses, I’ll be in greater danger.” While she held Gregory’s gaze in a battle
of wills, three dire wolves, each carrying a sidhe on their backs, ghosted
past. “If you go help Gran and the others, you’ll be protecting me, too. I’ll
follow your progress through our link. Please Gregory.”
More cries echoed across the meadow, now
accented by the ring of metal on metal.
Gregory snarled and pushed her toward the
house once more, then he picked up the staff and bolted off in the direction
Gran had run. He spread his wings as he ran; each of his bounding strides
covered a vast amount of ground. Within moments, he’d overtaken the dire wolves
and vanished into the distant tree line—one shadow among many.
Lillian turned and ran back to the house.
She hadn’t said she’d stay there. Besides, she needed a weapon and a way to
track the Riven. Somewhere hidden in the house was the perfect tool for the
job. She just had to find it and coerce it into serving her.
* * *
The gardens outside the house were silent,
the emptiness a strange contrast to the death-cries and blood-scent of battle
she experienced through Gregory’s senses, where he battled over a kilometer
distant. Lillian slowed to a walk, and with some regret shut down the flow of
sensations coming from her gargoyle, but kept a light touch on their link in
case he was injured.
She glanced around the gardens again, this
time searching with something other than her eyes. Magic stirred, flowing out
from her, seeking dangers. She sensed nothing between her and the house. Within
her home, she detected a spark of magic. Another dryad? Probably, judging by
the forest-scented magic, but there was another source of power coming toward
her.