Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2)

by Lisa Blackwood

  Her heart surprisingly heavy, Tethys made her way back to the boat.

  All was as she had left it. The human male still waited where she had ordered him to sit. Focusing her magic, she sent another command. Ready the boat. We will be leaving soon.”

  After waiting a moment to assure herself the human did as she said, she frowned down at the dead female. She’d waited a touch longer than was best, but the body wasn’t so old as to be useless. With a mighty heave, Tethys dragged herself up and over the side of the boat and flopped down next to the body.

  She leaned over and placed her hands on either side of the female’s head. Again, the ocean’s magic filled her, eager to her command, and with the slightest push, it invaded the dead woman’s body. Even with her magic bolstering it, the little residual consciousness lacked the sharp clarity of a living mind, the memories accumulated over a lifetime already faded, disintegrating into the grey afterlife. But Tethys found the scraps of what she needed. With a touch of desperation, she hurried to gather those fragile leavings. It wasn’t enough to allow her to function in this new modern world, but it was enough to give her the bare bones of a language.

  Besides, she still had the male to act as her guide. She trailed her fingers along the woman’s cooling cheek, over the line of the jaw, and down the pale column of her throat where the skin was already taking on a grey tinge. With the flick of one sharp nail, the delicate skin parted to reveal the red meat below. Blood oozed from the cut. More followed those first sluggish drops, but it wasn’t enough for the siren’s purpose. With a soft hiss, Tethys turned the body onto its side and pressed her cupped hand underneath the wound. Long moments crept by. When her palm finally contained a few sips, she brought it to her lips and drank.

  She grimaced in distaste but drank it all, even licking the residue from her webbed fingers. She was just cleaning the last of it away when a splash at the side of the boat caught her attention. A familiar grey muzzle, with a fish grasped in its teeth, poked up out of the water. Surefin bobbed up and down as if uncertain of his welcome.

  With a smile and click of encouragement, she heaved her bulk over to the edge of the boat and gave Surefin a rub of welcome.

  “You returned.”

  “Yes. I come too.”

  “You belong with your pod.” The siren rubbed under his jaw and along the undersides of his fins to take the sting out of her words. “Where I go, there is danger. Too much for one so young.”

  “I go until there is danger. Then I return to pod. Dolphin family wait.”

  Tethys sighed, knowing she would have to use magic upon the dolphin to keep him from following. Perhaps he could follow for a short while. At least until they were farther north. She had planned for her human guide to stay close to the shore as they headed north. It would be easy enough to command him to keep their craft’s speed down enough so the dolphin could follow them. And to be honest, she expected the journey would prove long and lonely.

  “Very well. You may come. But only until we are farther north. Once I go inland, you will have to remain behind.”

  She winced as an explosion of excited clicks nearly deafened her.

  “Calm, Surefin. You may come. But you must tell your family pod first.”

  Without further ceremony, Surefin deposited the fish in her lap. Then with another series of excited clicks and whistles, he sank back below the waves. His speech too fast for even another dolphin to understand, Tethys could only assume the slur of sound meant Surefin would be back once he had informed his family pod.

  She returned to the boat and pulled herself aboard. Turning her attention to the pale sad corpse, she studied it from head to toe in one long sweep and determined it was of no further use. She grabbed one chilled shoulder and fought with the dead weight until she had it positioned, ready to heave over the side of the boat. One more powerful shove and the body teetered at the edge for a moment before it slid over the side and into the ocean. The dark water rippled as the body disappeared in a flurry of bubbles.

  After washing the blood from her hands, Tethys frowned at her own long tail knowing what she had to do next. Her body had had enough time to process the human’s blood.

  She closed her eyes and took one deep breath and then another, willing her magic to the surface while at the same time pushing away the dislike of what she must do. Power flooded out from her center, down the length of her arms, to the tips of her fingers. She stiffened her spine and grasped the side of the boat in a punishing grip. The webbing between her fingers parted down the middle and was absorbed back into her hand. Her silver grey skin tinted with a soft rose hue as the magic continued to burn through her body. Scales receded, smoothing into the soft, drab skin of a human. The conversion continued to race down her body, leaving the frail appearance of a human in its wake. More of her magic rose at her command, concentrating in the region of her tail.

  A pained gasp, almost a sob, escaped her. She clenched her jaw, refusing to admit any weakness. The pain intensified. Her tail receded, shrunk. Bones, muscles, and veins all rearranged themselves as her magic continued its work. With a wet sound of shredding, her tail split in two, which made her cry out in a guttural scream. Her vision greyed out and she slumped to her side.

  She drifted for a time on the edge of consciousness, no longer really feeling the pain. But her magic continued the transformation. She could still feel her body shifting as it settled into a new form. For a time, the only thing she was aware of was the gentle rocking of the boat and the soft splash of surf, the calming sound of her home. And there was a louder splash and a heavy wet thump next to her head. She blinked blurry eyes to clear them. The world came into focus slowly, too slowly, and the edges were still grey. She blinked at the still flopping fish as it twisted and jumped on the boat deck.

  “I bring you fish.”

  Tethys flinched at the sharp whistle but only sighed at the young one’s exuberance. Her ocean-born companion would continually remind her of the purpose for her quest, the reason for her leaving the ocean, for the sacrifice of becoming human.

  Chapter Eighteen

  True to his word, Gregory knew of a good hunting spot. It wasn’t too distant, perhaps only about five kilometers. The exact distance was hard to judge as her gargoyle body allowed her to cover greater distances relatively quickly. She was fast coming to like her new body.

  They’d only just reached the place he’d promised when a small furry creature broke cover and darted off ahead of them.

  Gregory snorted and shot off after the creature in the time it took her to realize it was a rabbit she’d seen. Moments later, a minor scuffle ensued punctuated by a short squeal of terror.

  Appearing out of the deep shadows, Gregory padded to her side, the carcass of a rabbit clasped in his jaws. With great ceremony, he deposited the furry creature at her feet. He sat down beside her and curled his tail around his flanks. Daintily, he cleaned a few specks of blood from his muzzle and claws. When he was finished, he pointedly looked at her and then glanced at the rabbit, his perked ears dropping slightly.

  With a mild churning in her stomach, she glanced down at the rabbit, and then back to Gregory. He still watched her expectantly.

  Did he expect her to eat the rabbit? Raw, fur and all?

  Her uncle Alan had taught her the basics of bow hunting, and she’d taken down a few rabbits and even a couple deer over the years, but she’d never done the nasty work of gutting, skinning, and cleaning. She’d found the blood and mess just a little too disturbing.

  “Mmm, thank you.” Not wanting to hurt Gregory’s feelings, she crouched down lower on her forelimbs and nudged the small carcass with her muzzle.

  Warm and furry, the mildly musky animal scent coiled in her nose, but overlaying it was the copper scent of blood. Her mouth filled with saliva, and her stomach cramped. It wasn’t nausea; no, it was much worse.

  Hunger.

  She suddenly found the small carcass far from repulsive.

  Jerking back s
o she wouldn’t bite into the rabbit like her instincts demanded, she leaned into Gregory and whined instead.

  “Would you like me to gut and skin it for you?”

  Burrowing her muzzle between his shoulder and wing, she nodded. She took a deep breath, hoping his scent would drive away the all-consuming hunger. The soft wet sounds of shredding flesh reached her ears and the coppery scent intensified.

  Gregory shifted, his wings folding back and away from her, forcing her to face what he held in his jaws. Dryad Lillian was still repulsed, but Gargoyle Lillian was hungry and he offered it so sweetly. He presented it to her again, still held tightly in his jaws.

  She inched forward, nudging his muzzle with her own. Whining, she licked him in submission. With a grunt of pleasure, Gregory dropped his gift and stood over her. She snatched it up, giving the still warm flesh a couple bites before gulping it down. Snatching up another piece, she chewed and swallowed it in seconds and bent for another.

  When the last of Gregory’s small ‘kill’ was gone, she cleaned her muzzle as she’d seen him do, and then looked over her shoulder at him. He stretched out on the ground less than a body length from her. Not bothering with words, he merely patted the ground next to him and laid his head onto his folded forearms.

  She circled a couple times before she flopped down next to him. As she curled into his side, she decided a nap sounded like a lovely idea.

  ****

  When she woke from her short nap, Gregory greeted her with another wet gargoyle kiss and then stood and stretched.

  “Do you feel up to a real hunt now?”

  “What? Rabbits don’t count as hunting?” She arched her back and stretched, even giving her wings an experimental flap before folding them tight again. Flying was still far outside her comfort level, but hunting didn’t sound too advanced.

  “No. They are emergency snacks. Come, I’ll show you how to track and stalk a deer.”

  “A deer? Shouldn’t I start smaller?”

  Gregory sidled up next to her. He landed another one of his surprise swats along her flank and bounded off before she could react. With a mock snarl, she gave chase, playfully trying to snag the tip of his tail each time she managed to get close to him.

  They continued their playful run. Gregory sometimes allowed her to catch him and other times she put on a burst of speed, startling him enough to overtake him all on her own. Their wild run continued for an hour in much the same fashion until he picked up the scent of a small group of deer.

  Gregory ran at a slower gait, dipping his nose to the ground every few strides as he tracked the deer. Lillian matched his pace, her gaze locked on the terrain ahead, scanning for the telltale silhouettes of deer.

  Her ears warned her of an incoming beast running toward them. The sounds of snapping twigs and the swish of foliage grew louder by the second. A deer suddenly broke cover on the path ahead of them. It spotted them and veered hard to the left, sailing over a tangled thicket of underbrush. Another deer, running two body lengths behind the first, followed the same path. Lillian spun and lunged to give chase but Gregory pounced first, landing directly in her path, blocking the way with the bulk of his body.

  “No, stay still and quiet.” Gregory turned to study the way the deer had come.

  She hunched down next to him and remained silent.

  He raised his head and flared his nostrils. Lillian mimicked him and caught a very faint scent. Warm mammal, mixed with something metallic and oily.

  “Human warriors, headed this way,” Gregory said barely above a whisper. “Stay close. Don’t move unless I do.” He curled a wing over her and shifted until they were just off to one side of the game trail, situated in the deepest shadows the immediate area had to offer. “I want to study them while they are unaware anyone else is near.”

  A tingling, chilled magic flowed over her. She’d experienced his protective spell of invisibility a time or two before. To the best of her knowledge, he’d never tried to cloak more than himself. “Is your spell sufficient to shield us both?”

  “Yes. As long as you move with me and stay in contact the entire time.” His warm breath washed over her ears and stirred her mane.

  It tickled and she butted him gently on his shoulder.

  He inched back very slightly, still keeping contact between them.

  “If I had more time, I could have created a spell specific to you, to shield you even if I wasn’t near.” He licked her shoulder, and twined his tail with hers while they awaited the human soldiers. “Remind me to create one for you later. It can be part of tonight’s spell work with the Fae metalsmiths.”

  “It would certainly be helpful,” Lillian rumbled against Gregory’s throat.

  After a huff of agreement, he turned his attention back to the humans easing their way through the trees.

  A voice drifted to her. “I heard something come this way,” one soldier said in a low whisper.

  Another soldier, this one a few paces ahead of the one who had spoken, replied in the same quiet tones. “Probably just a deer. We’ve seen enough of them the last few days.”

  “And if it was something other than a deer,” a third soldier said as she emerged from around a tree almost beside Lillian, “you two would have frightened it off with all your talk.”

  “Personally, I’d rather not run into whatever created that crater, or those malformed bodies,” the first soldier said dryly. “If noise is likely to scare them off, the more noise the better.”

  “If noise is the key, we’re not going to find anything anytime soon. Town’s too much of a shitstorm.”

  “What, the reporters getting to you?”

  “Them and all the medieval society members running around. It’s like the circus arrived. A masquerade ball. Dumbass idea.”

  The shorter, stockier one Lillian had started to think of as the squad leader, turned to the speaker. “Oh it was far from stupid—tactical more like. But meant to look like a money grab. There’s something strange with the whole family, the ones running the spa. The grandmother is too nice, and the rest of the family is too helpful and perfect.”

  “How can you not like Gran?” the female soldier asked.

  “Her real name is Vivian. Who actually goes by the name Gran, and bakes cookies for complete strangers? I keep expecting to find the Big, Bad Wolf and Goldilocks lurking in these woods.”

  “You’re getting your fairy tales mixed up,” the first soldier injected. “It’s Red Riding Hood.”

  “You know a lot about fairy tales.”

  “Welcome to fatherhood, the truest test of manhood. Come to think of it, my kid would love a picture of Bigfoot.”

  “Joke all you want,” squad leader countered. “But I’m telling you there’s something strange about the whole family. My money’s on a cult.”

  “And you’re bull shitting again.”

  The leader’s laugh grew fainter, but Lillian swiveled her ears and heard a ‘Maybe I am.’

  Gregory held his position until the last soldier had moved on down the game trail. When he deemed it safe, he folded his wings, allowing Lillian to stand. She turned her attention from where she’d last seen the humans. “It’s much like Gran feared. The authorities are suspicious of our family. It’s only a matter of time before we slip up and get our asses tossed in a cage.”

  “You could let me handle the humans,” Gregory added dryly.

  “No…no massive memory wipes, or missing persons. It would only raise more questions.” Lillian flicked her tail in agitation. “We’ll proceed as planned. Keep working on enchanting the weapons for the Clan. I’ll keep working with the Coven to find ways to confuse and confound the humans.”

  Gregory nodded. “As you wish. However, I think we must continue your hunting lesson tomorrow. Our duty will not wait for us tonight.”

  “I think you’re forgetting one little detail.” Lillian waved a hand down her body. “I don’t know how to return to my dryad form.”

  “I’ll show you
once we’re closer to home. Come.” Gregory dropped back down onto all fours and started off in a direction that would lead back home without bringing them too close to the human patrol. Lillian followed in his wake.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The day of the masquerade arrived sunny and clear, with the promise of an equally temperate night, which was good. The better the weather, the better turn out there would be. She wondered if the Coven had something to do with the perfect day, but hadn’t asked. She’d add the question to the list of things she planned to ask Gran one day, if things would ever quiet down enough in her life to have something as mundane as idle time.

  She stifled a yawn and took another sip of tea, and then shifted to find a more comfortable position on Gregory’s stony thigh. Her beloved was presently resting on his stone pedestal, like he’d taken to doing each dawn. Lillian hadn’t seen a reason why she should change her long standing habit of having breakfast in the center of her maze, in the shadow of her tree while sitting on Gregory’s knee. She smiled ruefully. He made a solid bench, but maybe she should start bringing a pillow.

  Finishing her bagel, she drew her legs up to brace her feet against his opposite thigh. Sitting crosswise on his lap, with her back braced against his slightly mantled wing, was the most comfortable position. She took another sip of tea and let her mind wander.

  In the five nights since she’d first learned to shape shift, Lillian had met Gregory each evening at sunset and he would run with her in gargoyle form, teaching her to shape shift swiftly as well as how to hunt for herself. Last night, he’d started her training in gargoyle magic.