“You’re right,” Lark said. “If I had to breach one of Rook’s spells on my own, I’d be here for another twelve moon cycles, but I was here with Truth early this morning when Obsidian was resetting it. I saw the composition of the trigger spell.”
Why, that determined little dryad. The nerve! He’d get Truth to assign her to weeding the fields on the mainland.
Meadow halted and turned on her heels, her expression torn between doing what was right and satisfying a curiosity that had hounded many of the island’s residents. “You can open that?”
“Yes.”
After a long hesitation, Meadow returned to the other three.
“Fine, just a quick peek, and then we get out of here.”
Obsidian waited until Lark had taken down the spell. The four were bunching close to the door, preparing to enter, when he ghosted up behind them.
Lark and Meadow, he tapped on their shoulders. Nightshade he thumped with the edge of his wing. As for Oath, his tail was too tempting a target, and he stomped on it with all his weight.
The dryads yelled. Nightshade huffed and choked like he’d swallowed his tongue and Oath yowled like a wounded cat.
“Very impressive,” Obsidian said with a dose of satisfaction as he released his shadow magic and appeared behind them. “Would you like me to hold open the door for you?”
“Obsidian!”
“Sorry!”
“We’re sorry!”
“Didn’t think you’d be back yet!”
Sheepish looks accompanied the chorus of apologies.
“Next time you wish to enter, you should simply ask.”
Oath bounced up and down, still holding his tail, but his ears swung forward with eagerness. “Would you have let us see her if we’d just asked?”
“No,” Obsidian said with a big grin. Then seeing Oath’s crestfallen look, he softened the blow. “It’s not my right.”
Oath’s face fell. “Why did you say to ask then?”
“So you would think about the privacy of others.” He pushed past them and opened the polished dark wood door. Then turning to face them, he grinned again. “Good night. I assume I’ll see you all tomorrow during the preparations for the festival.”
With that, he closed the door in their startled faces.
A flick of his wrist reset the wards protecting his small domain. A faint blue glow emanated from the polished wood door and the surrounding walls.
Floating balls of magic provided the only other heat and light. Not that he needed much of either to be comfortable, but he kept them burning in case Corporal Anna Mackenzie awoke from her healing stone sleep when he was away.
After giving the room with its carved walls and vine-shrouded windows a once over, he set aside his weapons and armor and shed his ward-spelled wrist and armbands. And then he paced to the center of the homey room where a concave nest cradled Anna’s stone form.
She looked as she always did, her expression unchanged. Only the slight warmth rising from the stone and the slow beat of her heart suggested she was a living creature. None of those things hinted when she would finally wake and take up her destiny. Though, surely, it must be soon.
Feeling the familiar sadness, he dropped to all fours and crawled into the nest, arranging blankets and pillows how he liked before curling around her.
Even though she couldn’t converse with him in return, he’d always told her how his day had gone, sharing his greatest joys and most profound defeats. When he slept and dreamed, his mind would touch hers and share much of what he’d learned that day.
His mentors encouraged it, saying when she finally woke it would speed her training along. But even if there were no tactical benefits to sharing his day with Anna, he’d still do it, the closeness giving him much-needed comfort.
Snuggling nearer, he settled a wing over them both. His one hand pressed against her chest, where, if he waited long enough, he would feel the slow thump of her heart.
That too had always comforted him.
“I miss you,” he whispered along their mental link. “Return to me soon.”
Closing his eyes, he waited. Only after he felt three of the familiar slow thumps of her heart did he surrender to his own stone sleep.
Chapter 4
A RICH, DARK SCENT, one reminiscent of patchouli forest incense and a hint of her favorite café mocha, teased her senses. Because no pleasant dream was complete without coffee and chocolate.
Hmmm. Some dreams were better than others.
Her mind roused further. Well, perhaps it was a rather odd combination. She hadn’t smelled the patchouli incense since she’d last been home, what seemed like ages ago now. She took another breath, inhaling deeply.
Ah. No. That wasn’t exactly what she smelled, but it was familiar all the same, and it reminded her of home. It really was a delightful scent. She would have been happy to drink in the fragrance for days and days if another part of her consciousness hadn’t been piecing together more disturbing details.
She stiffened as she came fully awake.
What the fuck!
She was lying in a fetal position with a big, male body spooning her.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Why couldn’t she remember what had happened or how she’d gotten here? She jerked in surprise as old memories surfaced from where she’d buried them to die. No! She wouldn’t think of that time. She was stronger than the memories. They held no power over her now.
But the memories didn’t care about her mental denials and continued to rise to the surface.
Fuck them and fuck the jackass who’d just roofied me!
She embraced the rage—it was far better than paralyzing fear.
I’ll rip his balls off and stuff them down his throat!
Anna tried to bolt upright only to be brought up short by a weight across her waist. An arm—yep that was an arm—slung around her torso like he owned her.
His hand was cupping her right boob. She reached up to break his thumb, and the feel of large talons gave her pause.
What kind of sicko was she tangled up with now?
Never mind. Neutralize the threat first and worry about what the actual fuck was going on later. Her brothers had taught her that one.
She jackknifed her body, then came back down, slamming the back of her skull into his face. Lifting her pelvis for better leverage, she raised her right leg and kicked back with all her strength. Her heel made a direct hit to his balls.
Without pause, she grabbed his hand and twisted the thumb of the offending hand back hard. The move would have broken a typical guy’s thumb, but the big brute behind her merely grunted out an age-old sound of male pain at the hit to his jewels. His thumb seemed not to register at all.
“I will kill you!” She punctuated the sentence with another savage twist and kick.
“Anna!” He howled as broad wings folded back, showing her a glimpse of her surroundings.
More memories returned—newer ones—crashing into her mind like waves racing to shore. Blinking down at herself, she acknowledged she was fully dressed. So was he. Well, as much as gargoyles ever were. No one had roofied her.
Still, her spotty memories didn’t explain what she was doing in a strange gargoyle’s bed. A moment later, the male in question released his hold on her, likely so he could protect his nuts from further damage. Anna wasted no time in rolling away from him and to her feet.
The room spun, and she feared she’d collapse face-first into the pillows and blankets. Worse, the fabric was threatening to tangle up her feet and trip her. But after a few stumbling steps, she righted herself and crawled out of the strange nest.
The male was still hunched over in pain, so she glanced around the room, searching for other dangers. Power glowed, bright lines of magic forming a protective framework over the carved wood of the walls behind. She scanned for an exit, but nothing jumped out at her.
Great.
She didn’t spare the room further study, swinging her gaze
back to her opponent.
The gargoyle was straightening up. And, fuck, was he ever a big, brawny beast. Shoulders, wider than even Gregory possessed, flexed and rippled with strength as he stretched, limbering up stiff muscles. Thighs like proverbial tree trunks and biceps that might actually be bigger around than her waist only added to the ‘I will break you in two’ look he had going.
She desperately hoped he was big, slow, and dumb—a living stereotype. Otherwise fighting her way free would really suck.
She supposed she should try reason first. Though, really, what excuse could he come up with after she’d woken up in this dude’s bed getting groped?
“Hey, big fella, mind explaining what’s going on here?” While she talked to distract him, she inched her way closer to a rack of weapons she’d spotted on one wall. There was an assortment of quarterstaffs, spears, bows, swords, and knives.
A sword would be the most useful. She’d done a little training with a quarterstaff while under the tender care of the Battle Goddess’s captains but didn’t want to trust her life to those skills just yet. And a knife probably wouldn’t even make him flinch.
She was within four feet of the weapons rack when the big fellow released a deep, unhappy sounding huff.
“Don’t you know me?”
Know him? Huh? No. “Never seen you before. And it’s not like I’ve met a lot of gargoyles. Would’ve remembered one as big as you.”
“Is your nose still stone?” He paced closer. “It’s me. How can you not know me?”
His scent wafted stronger the closer he got, and perhaps he was partially correct. Fully awake now, her sense of smell sharpened, telling her something impossible.
No.
Hell. No.
It couldn’t be, not unless Shadowlight and Lillian had an older brother or... years and years and years had spun by while she’d slept and healed in her stone sleep. Like the elder gargoyle had said.
But it felt like she’d only just fallen asleep.
Surely it hadn’t been...
She studied the big gargoyle standing across from her. Ears drooped, wingtips dragging on the floor, tail curled around his midriff, he looked the picture of absolute dejection.
“Shadowlight?”
His one ear flicked forward before flattening against his mane, but he inched forward in the slow, methodical way the kid sometimes would when he wanted a treat he knew he shouldn’t have but was stubbornly determined to have it anyway, consequences be damned.
Even though she was half expecting the crushing bear hug, his speed and strength surprised a gasp from her. Then his arms and wings were folding her in a fierce embrace, and the magic of their link flared to life as if it, too, were just waking from a long sleep. But there was no denying the evidence of their mental and magical link.
“Shadowlight!” she shouted his name and hugged him back.
He was shaking with emotion. She probably was too.
“I missed you,” he said, his voice deep, thickening with raw emotion, or maybe it was normally a baritone now. He snuffled in her hair, nuzzling the side of her neck.
“I’m sorry I left you alone.” And she was. But now she had questions. “How long?”
“Years. You slept for years like Banrook said you would. I didn’t want to believe it would be that long. I always thought you’d wake sooner than this. I never stopped hoping.” There was a world of loneliness in his words, and she’d examine them later, but, for now, she had more significant concerns.
“How many years exactly?” Anna leaned back to look up into his face, trying to see something of the Shadowlight she’d known. It was there, she realized with a sigh of relief. There was still something of Shadowlight’s familiar soul reflecting back at her when she looked into his eyes. But, gods, how he’d grown!
“Almost thirteen years.”
“Thirteen?” God. That long. But she supposed she should be thankful since it could have been far longer. No wonder she hadn’t recognized him at first. He’d be, what? Twenty-one now?
Well, at least he was still younger than her. While he might not permit her to call him a kid anymore, he was still her little brother. Nothing would change that.
“Far too long,” he agreed.
Shadowlight leaned down and gave her face a big swipe with his tongue. Then, his voice deepening with accusations, he said, “You thought I was big, slow and stupid. You didn’t even recognize me!”
“Er. Sorry?” Anna rubbed at the back of her neck, only then realizing her hair wasn’t in its customary rows. Damn it. Some do-gooder had taken them out. Or maybe that had happened when Lord Death had blasted away much of the blood witch’s taint with his chilling power.
She glanced down at her clothes in more detail this time. A pair of plain drawstring pants and lace-up shirt covered her from neck to ankle. It was the same outfit she’d been wearing when she’d first woken up in the healer’s quarters after Lord Death had finished working on her.
To her, it felt like no time had passed. But looking upon Shadowlight, she knew so much had changed.
“I...Oh, Shadowlight, I don’t even know where to begin or what questions to ask.”
He bumped his muzzle in her hair and dragged in a few deep breaths before speaking. “Well, I go by the name Obsidian now. Journeyman Obsidian. Or Rasoren if we’re being formal.”
“They changed your name?”
If they’d forced a new name upon him what other things had been forced upon him as well?
“Be at peace. It’s part of the gargoyle legion’s hierarchy. Novices keep the names their dryad mothers gave them until they reach Journeyman status. Once at that level—when a gargoyle is what you would call a young adult—we take on a new name of our choosing. I chose the name Obsidian Shadow.”
“Huh.” Well, at least they hadn’t forced a name upon him. Though she was curious why he’d picked that name, she had other more immediate concerns.
“What’s it like here?” She tried to use their mental link, wanting to feel the emotion behind his words, to see if he was hiding something, but she came up against a smooth impenetrable barrier.
Obsidian grinned at her startled look. “I’ve been training hard for over a decade, and my command of magic is almost greater than my mentors’. Since gargoyles naturally use mind magic more than other races, one of the first things my mentors taught me was how to erect a mental wall when privacy is required. It’s far more advanced than what we learned in the Battle Goddess’s domain.”
“Oh.” He didn’t want her in his head. She supposed she didn’t blame him. They were almost strangers to each other now. It drove home how unprepared she was for this new life. He knew so much more than her.
He’d no longer need to look to her for guidance. That knowledge left a hollow ache in her heart. She’d look at those tangled feelings in more detail later.
Unaware of her turmoil, Shadowlight... er... it was Obsidian now wasn’t it? He merely wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her over to a bench to sit.
“Come, sit. You’ll be weak. Your body’s resources depleted after so long in the stone sleep. Let me get you a drink.” He went over to his weapons rack, took down a canteen and returned to her side swiftly. “Here, drink this. It’s a tea fortified with minerals and herbs to replenish a weary body. Its taste leaves much to be desired, but it will hold you over until I can hunt up something more solid for you to eat.”
Anna took the offered canteen, hesitated a second as she scanned Obsidian’s expression—there was no deceit evident—and then drank deeply of the liquid. It was room temperature and had a mildly bitter, metallic sort of flavor to it. Kind of like chewing on a vitamin pill, Anna decided.
Not the tastiest drink, but now that moisture had hit her mouth, she realized how parched she was and swiftly took several more swallows. After she drank half the contents of the canteen, she sat it on her lap and looked up at Shadowlight again.
“It’s Obsidian,” he said in gentle remin
der.
“You can read my thoughts, but I can’t read yours. That’s hardly fair.”
“I’m much stronger than I was last time you were awake. Our link is now imbalanced. I don’t trust that my mind won’t overwhelm yours. Best we wait until your body is strong before we embark upon the first of your new magic lessons.”
“Fair enough.” For now, she agreed. But later she planned to get inside his head and gather intel about this place and her new, mature Rasoren. Maybe then she could reclaim some of the old Shadowlight.
Anna wasn’t a complete emotional cripple. She’d known she’d loved the kid more than her own life. He was family. He was oh so easy to love. He’d been the first to breach the barriers she’d built around her heart after the ‘incident’ three years ago and to her surprise, she’d been fine with that chink in her armor.
He’d been safe, void of threat or peril. Because of that, she’d been able to love him in a platonic way that didn’t risk stirring memories better left buried.
But looking at him now, she feared that love was lost—impossible to reclaim because he was no longer a safe, uncomplicated child. He’d grown into an adult. It was like Shadowlight had died.
Sorrow welled up. New pain to add to all the old. With a great deal of difficulty, she shoved all the emotion back deep inside. She wouldn’t think or feel. She’d just adapt and survive like she always did.
“I’m still him. Still Shadowlight. Never a threat to you.” He knelt before her. “A name change doesn’t erase all that I was. Now I am just more. You’ll come to see that before long. In the meantime, I’m happy to answer questions you might have while you eat. Afterward, if you still don’t trust me or are unsatisfied with the answers, we can attempt the link.”
Right. Mind reader.
“I promise I will answer all your questions, but first you need food. Come with me.”
Food was always an excellent way to break the ice with a gargoyle and get him talking. Besides, he was correct. She was starving. But she needed to do a couple of things first.
Anna patted her hair and glanced down at her baggy clothing. “Don’t suppose you have a proper change of clothing and a magic wand hanging around to tame this?” She pointed at her hair.
The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9) Page 123
