The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9)

by Lisa Blackwood

  He winced inwardly at her astute observation. “I wish for them to find and bring Whitethorn and Greenborrow to me.” Which was the truth, Gregory reasoned with himself. He’d planned to ask them to do that very thing after he’d talked of Lillian’s parents. “We must discuss battle strategy. You’re more than welcome to join the meeting, but I know both you and Gran would likely appreciate the time to catch up with each other.”

  His ears pricked up and his wings relaxed marginally—his words sounded plausible. She shouldn’t take exception to them. As if on cue, the unicorn and the pooka lifted their heads from grazing and pointed their ears in Gregory’s direction. With a snort and a bob of his head, the unicorn was the first to jump the fence a third time and take off down the trail, the pooka a dark shadow a short distance behind.

  Gentle fingers curled around his muzzle and tilted it until she was able to look directly into his eyes—hers were full of sorrow. “Have I taught my Gargoyle Protector to lie? Is that the gift I have given him?” Sadness echoed in her voice even as the words were carried away on the afternoon breeze.

  “Lillian.”

  She slid one finger against his lips. “Don’t. Not if it’s another lie. In the not so distant past, we both concealed truths with the intention of protecting the other. As I recall, it didn’t work out so well for us.” Lillian stepped up to him, surprising him with a fierce embrace, her arms squeezing him with all the strength she possessed. “I will never knowingly lie to you again. Please have the decency to honor me with the same promise.”

  Nothing and no one possessed the power to unman him as devastatingly as his Sorceress. He bowed his muzzle over Lillian’s head, nuzzling her hair as his arms and wings encircled her smaller form. “Forgive me. Even if I learn nothing in this life, I will learn this lesson well. You have my word. I will not lie to you again.” He dragged in a deep breath, savoring her calming scent.

  Lillian held her silence as she petted his back in long soothing strokes.

  To his shame, his wings trembled at her gentle touch, but something in his spirit eased, and the truth flowed from him freely. “I asked the unicorn and the pooka to tell me what they had learned about your birth parents. Both equines have a unique ability to read the heart of a person—to see one’s hidden personality traits, their loves, hates, their deepest desires—what lengths they will stoop to complete a mission. Dark things no child should have to learn about a parent, beloved or not.”

  Lillian gave a bitter-sounding laugh. “Gregory, there is nothing the pooka and the unicorn can tell me that will be worse than what I already imagine. At most, whatever they say will only confirm what I suspect.” She patted his shoulder in a companionable way before continuing, “Later—together—we’ll listen to what the unicorn and pooka have to say about my parents.”

  “Your words hold wisdom.” He gave her hand an affectionate lick.

  She sighed predictably at the dampness covering the back of her hand, but the muscles of her jaw relaxed enough for a hint of a smile to show through.

  “My words actually hold wisdom? Well, there’s a first. Let’s go find Greenborrow and Whitethorn.” Her lips turned down in determination. “Battle plans await.”

  With a sharp nod of assent, Gregory dropped to all fours and bumped his nose under her hand. Her fingers skimmed over the curve of his muzzle and around the base of one horn before settling in his mane as she took up a long-legged stride, a perfect match for his ground-eating walk.

  With the subtle contact, peace flowed between them and Gregory’s world was back as it should be.

  Chapter 4

  LILLIAN HALTED AT THE edge of the forest’s shadowy perimeter. Gregory mirrored her motion, and she dropped her fingers away from his mane. The breeze blew cool across her heated face, the contrast raising gooseflesh along her arms.

  The gravel path continued for another dozen feet before it turned, winding its twisting way through the trees and out of sight. They walked for perhaps another twenty minutes. All the while the forest grew thicker, the shadows darker, the rich scent of loam heavier in the air. As the forest embraced her, Lillian relaxed further.

  Gregory stopped, lifted his head, and sniffed the air.

  “Now what?”

  In answer, Gregory stepped out around her, veered off the path, and disappeared behind an evergreen’s dense foliage.

  “Why Gregory, thank you for answering my question.” With a snort, Lillian followed her gargoyle off the path and into the forest. They continued to walk, dodging tree trunks, craggy roots, thorny thickets, and boggy low spots. Lillian was used to the forest’s tricky geography and kept pace with Gregory relatively painlessly, though she was envious of the way he moved so gracefully.

  The shadows of the forest thinned ahead, and they emerged into a meadow. At the end of the clearing, the unicorn circled a large pine. He trotted with his neck arched and his tail a bright, white banner behind him. Every inch of his body language said he was pleased with himself.

  When Lillian squinted at the shadows below the pine’s sweeping branches, she could just make out another shadowy form. Unlike the unicorn, who showed no more concern for human authorities than Gregory did, the one under the tree was wise enough to want to hide.

  Upon closer proximity, Lillian recognized the other fae’s slender form and long silvery hair, the shimmering shade not one she’d ever seen on a human. She raised a hand in greeting to the sidhe leader. Whitethorn cast a glance around the meadow before he edged out from underneath the tree’s canopy.

  Only then did Lillian notice he had his bow at the ready, an arrow nocked. He lowered the point to the ground and jerked his head toward darker shadows to his left. There the forest thickened again, choking out the meadow grasses with the shrubby growth of understory trees.

  Gregory skirted the meadow, and as Lillian paced him, she felt when he called on the cold magic of the Spirit Realm. The air around them became chilled like someone had opened a freezer door. A fine mist rose from the warm ground, and shadows beneath the surrounding trees deepened, blurring and softening the bright light of day into something more like twilight. Ahead, Gregory’s bulk had vanished completely, and Lillian was willing to bet she was now invisible to mortal eyes.

  But it didn’t mean they were immune or hidden from a more technological variety of eye.

  “Wait! Gregory, you might not be as concealed as you think.”

  She grabbed in the general vicinity of where his shoulder should’ve been and encountered a wing instead. Tugging forcefully, she attempted to turn him. “Humans have technology, science you have never seen, which can track things like body heat and movement from high overhead or a great distance away.”

  He became visible as he flicked his wing free of her grasp. “You doubt my ability to protect us from humans?” Then turning to her, he stepped closer until his muzzle was only inches away.

  Lillian held her ground. “I’m not questioning your prowess as a protector, but there are things in this world you know nothing about that might be able to see through your cloaking magic.”

  “Then you need not worry.” Warm breath puffed across her cheeks. When he smiled, she got a worm’s eye view of his very white fangs. His deep voice rumbled in her ears when he spoke. “I sense no humans near us. There is a group within an hour’s walk, but even if they stumble upon us, I promise to deal with them ‘gently.’ As for being seen from above, I have made it impossible.”

  Standing toe to toe, with his bulk dwarfing her, his massive wings curling to partially enfold her in their velvet expanse, it would have been easy to back down to his passive-aggressive stance. Instead, she tilted her head so she could meet his gaze and asked, “Care to elaborate on the last statement?”

  He drew a deep breath which expanded his chest and leaned closer until they were nose to nose. “Not now.”

  Grumpy, she thought. Now, who needs an attitude adjustment?

  “If you’re not going to budge, why are we wasting time wit
h this staring contest?” Lillian tossed back, and then placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. He jumped back, startled, and she hooted. “You moved, points for me.”

  Gregory huffed, folded his wings tight, and stormed off toward Whitethorn.

  “Spoilsport,” she called out to his retreating back. While she might not possess great powers like she’d supposedly once commanded, still she had a purpose—keeping her beloved gargoyle humble. And possibly guiding him through all the pitfalls he might encounter in the modern world.

  “The pooka said you wished to speak with me, Lord Gargoyle.” The sidhe leader’s words were accompanied by a half-bow, the move more graceful than anything executed on a ballroom floor. Without the shimmering silver locks, pointed ears, and dark-grey brocade tunic, he’d look entirely at home on one of those polished floors as well.

  Gregory’s rumbling voice drew her back to the conversation. “Gran informed me that during the time Lillian and I rested and healed we received some unusual guests. We must conceive of a solution to our present problems.”

  “A wise idea. But not here where we are so exposed.” Whitethorn drew back deeper into the shadows, gesturing for Lillian and Gregory to follow. “If Vivian told you of our visitors, she must have also warned you of the increased numbers of humans roaming our lands. It isn’t safe to remain in the open.”

  Gregory’s tail twitched at the word ‘humans,’ but he mellowed enough to follow Whitethorn without argument, for which Lillian was grateful. Perhaps she had an ally in the sidhe leader.

  Deeper into the woods they finally stopped, and she perched on a fallen tree trunk. Gregory and Whitethorn both turned to look out beyond their circle, toward a small game trail to the right of where Lillian sat. She glanced in the same direction but saw nothing. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what they found so interesting when she heard the soft clomp of hooves. Seconds later, the unicorn galloped down the path in their direction, Greenborrow clinging to his back. As soon as the unicorn halted, Greenborrow tumbled off.

  A few choice words in an unknown language colored the small clearing. In more dishevel than usual, Greenborrow straightened his baggy clothes and squared his shoulders, growing taller as she watched. He stomped his feet a couple of times as if it would knock the wrinkles out of his long tunic, and then he closed his eyes and curled his bare toes into the forest loam. After a deep sigh, he opened his eyes and took them all in with a merry look. “That’s better. Solid ground under my feet. No leshii was ever intended to ride horseback.”

  At the leshii’s words, the unicorn neighed loud enough to echo through the forest.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Greenborrow leveled a glare at the equine. “Oh...horseback, unicorn, pooka...one’s as unnatural to ride as another.”

  “Then walk next time!” With a twirl of his head, the unicorn spun and galloped back into the forest.

  “That went well,” Lillian mumbled under her breath.

  “I thought so.” Greenborrow bestowed her with a grin and a jaunty little bow. “Always nice to see you.” Then turning to Gregory and Whitethorn, he became more serious. “Well, Lord Gargoyle, what thoughts do you hide behind those black mirror eyes?”

  “Dark thoughts,” Gregory said. He shook out his wings and sat down with his tail curled around his haunches. The other two fae joined him, and he gestured for Lillian to sit by his side.

  She hadn’t fully settled herself when a muscular weight landed in her lap. Gregory proceeded to coil his tail around her waist twice until the spade-shaped tip was again directly in front, conveniently under her hands. Inwardly, she smiled at the predictability of her touchy-feely guardian while she settled her fingers on the boney ridges and began to massage between the plate-like armor at the very tip.

  Whitethorn arched an eyebrow before he continued the conversation from earlier. “If we don’t take precautions, we may find ourselves fighting a battle on three fronts—the humans, the Riven, and the Lady of Battles. Even you, Avatar, must find those daunting odds.”

  “The Lady of Battles is my greatest concern. While she can’t come here herself, she may send her warriors soon. My normal defensive weavings will not remain effective for any length of time in this Realm so I must try another method. I will gift any fae who wishes to join me with magic-forged weapons and personal defensive spells keyed to an object. It will protect the magic from the ravages of this Realm.”

  “Permanent talismans,” Greenborrow whistled. “You, my boy, are planning on expending a great deal of magic. More fae will come, curious as they would be of any gargoyle in the Mortal Realm. Many newcomers have already arrived and felt your power even as you healed. Some of the oldest guessed who and what you are—the Avatars. In this magic-starved land, you, my darlings, are an unequaled banquet.”

  Gregory nodded. “And I welcome them to come to feast on magic cast-off as I forge weapons and spells.”

  “Is that a bribe?” Whitethorn asked, sounding almost incredulous.

  “Yes, if it will sway more to my side.”

  “And if we are victorious?”

  “My offer is still the same; there is no limit upon it. When I return home with Lillian, any Clan or Coven member wishing to come with me, may.”

  Greenborrow slapped his knees and chuckled. “And that, my fine gargoyle, is the best bribe of all.”

  Whitethorn’s nod was dour. “Indeed.”

  “Why are we just sitting here? Are we waiting for the Lady of Battles to show up for tea?” Greenborrow stood up and bowed to Lillian. “Though your lovely grandmother might just be civil enough to bake for even her worst enemy.”

  “A word of caution,” the sidhe leader stood in one graceful motion, “not all fae who come to you will be trustworthy.”

  “I don’t expect them to be,” Gregory said and glanced in the direction of a darker shadow, which coalesced into the pooka. “My personal standards are not as elevated as they once were.”

  Gregory unwound his tail from Lillian’s waist. She missed the weight and the warmth, but also the gentle flow of magic between them; however, she didn’t let it distract her from an earlier worry. “But what are we supposed to do with the humans while we wage war with the Battle Goddess’s minions and the remaining Riven. Most humans aren’t evil...for goodness sake, I thought I was human. The collateral damage of a war here in this realm will be immense. You can’t expect me to stand aside and allow harm to come to the humans.”

  Gregory huffed.

  Lillian frowned and then tried another tactic. “We’re Avatars. Surely we must protect the humans of this world?”

  “Perhaps, but it’s not our primary purpose,” 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 bring about change to the universe and sometimes 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.”

  “Yeah, 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 motiv
ations 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, “but never unhappy with our lot.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Lillian sighed and fought to bury her more cynical side, the part of her that 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 words. “I cannot risk all of creation just 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’s memories.”

  Gregory stood and stretched, 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 soul and 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.”