Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2)

by Lisa Blackwood

  Lillian narrowed her eyes, every sense honing in on the Riven. Actually, the beast hemorrhaged a black ooze from a dozen wounds. It looked like it might expire in front of her at any moment.

  “Why,” Lillian pointed at the offending creature occupying her grove, “is that Gods’ blighted beast here? One alone is no threat to Gregory or myself. If this is what you wanted me to see, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m already intimately acquainted with the murdering, soul stealing little monsters. I doubt you can show me anything new about them.”

  “No, but I did find this one and many others on the edge of your territory. As a favor to you and the local Fae, I killed all but this one.”

  “How nice of you.” Lilian’s voice dripped with sarcasm but she was already inching closer to where Gregory slept.

  At some point during the conversation, the Riven had turned his attention squarely between Lillian and the siren. If anything, the Riven looked more distraught and sank lower into its fighting crouch, fangs gleaming and claws extended in extreme threat.

  “I left this one alive because I thought to use it as evidence in case you didn’t believe me about the secondary threat, but then I decided on a better use for the creature.” Tethys gestured for the three Fae to herd the Riven closer.

  Lillian focused on keeping her breath and heart rate slow and even, but she allowed her claws to grow another half inch. Darting her eyes between the Riven and the enchanted ward stones ringing Gregory in a protective circle, she briefly debated ending the Riven before he reached the stone circle or allowing him to fry himself on the protective wards.

  In the end, she decided to leave him to be incinerated on the wards, less tainted blood to contaminate her grove that way.

  One of the spear-carrying sidhe made a jab at the Riven. With a desperate contortion of his body, the Riven avoided being impaled and leaped back another dozen steps to land two feet inside the ward stone circle. A second later, Lillian realized the wards didn’t activate, not so much as a spark of magic flickered along their lengths.

  Tethys had nullified the protection on the stones.

  Her heart starting to pound with the sudden rise of adrenalin, Lillian glanced at Gregory.

  What other protective spells had the siren neutralized?

  The Riven seemed to think along the same lines, for with one last disbelieving look at the stone circle, he turned his hate filled eyes toward the sleeping gargoyle.

  No! Tethys planned to use the Riven to force Gregory to defend himself.

  Lillian snarled her own challenge and bolted toward the Riven, every logical thought forced beneath the need to protect her mate.

  She shifted while still in the air, her wings stretching out, carrying her across the distance. She snatched at the Riven, but the creature twisted away from her claws.

  With a flash of silver in the shadows, he summoned a demon blade and came at her.

  Lillian arched away from the blade, remembering what one had done to Gregory gave her a healthy respect for the thrice-cursed things. Using her powerful tail as a weapon, she swiped at the Riven’s legs, forcing it to jump into the air where she nearly speared him on her talons while he was distracted.

  He twisted impossibly fast a second time and darted under a low hanging branch behind the tree. Growling in rage, Lillian gave chase. A sudden burning pain sliced across her back, just below where her wings attached. Yowling in rage, she spun, slashing out defensively at an enemy who wasn’t there.

  A second slice seared across her side, blood welling from a shallow wound that hadn’t been there seconds ago.

  She smelled the strong odor of sap mixing with the coppery stink of her blood and knew in a moment of lucidity, the Riven was attacking her tree, stabbing and slashing at her hamadryad in a vain attempt to kill her.

  Lillian howled out her wrath again. A second, much deeper roar answered her call. It came from behind and suddenly Gregory was racing past her to circle the tree.

  The Riven burst out from behind the trunk, Gregory on its tail and closing fast. The Riven put on a burst of speed, leaping straight toward Lillian with its demon blade extended before it.

  Gregory lashed out with a blast of bone chilling power, catching the Riven on one side. Its momentum carried it toward Lillian even as Gregory’s magic burned along the length of its body.

  Lillian sidestepped and slashed out at the beast. Her talons severed its head from its shoulders as it careened past. For good measure, Gregory leaped onto the corpse and blasted it with a second wave of magic.

  With a hiss and final crackle, the Riven’s body burned to ash, and then ash swirled into a fog-like smoke until even it was gone.

  Gregory raked the ground with his talons, then drew a deep breath and coughed it back out on an enraged snort. He took two steps toward Lillian, his muzzle pointed slightly upward and his lips pulled back to inhale another deep breath. She dropped to all fours and padded over to him, both to allow him to inspect her wounds and so she could check for any he might have gathered.

  They were mere feet apart when a beautiful and eerie song filled the glade. Gregory twitched an ear in the direction of the song. He turned his entire head and neck, taking a half step away from her.

  Her own ears swung forward, seeking the source of the sound, her body was just starting to mimic Gregory’s actions when a high pitched snap echoed in her ears, piercing deep with a sudden agony, and then all the world went silent.

  Bereft without the beautiful song, she whined and pawed at her ears, hoping to unblock them, but her hands came back covered in a few traces of blood. She snarled again, thinking this was more of the Riven’s work.

  But there was something she wasn’t remembering.

  Something about that beautiful song.

  Something dangerous.

  Gran had told her about a spell and a song.

  “I should remember this,” Lillian thought, the first clear one she’d had in several heartbeats. “Why can’t I remember?”

  The web of an enchantment fell away and everything came rushing back.

  She shook herself, then stretched, surprised to find herself resting on the ground.

  In a sudden panic, Lillian bolted to her feet and searched for Gregory. She found him halfway between her and the siren.

  He was crouched, his tail flicking in what she first took as annoyance. She changed her mind after she noticed his long ears flicking toward the siren, and then back in Lillian’s direction. Every so often, Gregory would glance at her, his expression vague and uncertain as if he was undecided what he was supposed to do.

  At the bank of the stream, Tethys waited, still half out of the water, her tail lazily splashing water over her body as she sang. For the moment, Lillian couldn’t hear the song. She’d been lucky her shift to gargoyle hadn’t neutralized Gran’s spell, but she didn’t know how much longer her luck would last. If she was to help Gregory, she had to do something now, before her gargoyle blood healed her ruptured eardrums.

  A quick glance down at the one injury she could see showed it had already stopped bleeding. Her hamadryad was much stronger from the periodic feedings of Gregory’s blood. What she’d normally consider a benefit was, in this instance, an unfortunate side effect. She couldn’t assume the healing powers would wait to heal her ears until all the other wounds were healed. For all she knew, her injuries might all be healing at the same rate.

  She glanced between Gregory and Tethys.

  There was no way she could remove Gregory from the siren’s influence, he weighed too much and he seemed disinclined to move from the spot anyway. She turned her attention back to the siren. Was it possible to eliminate her?

  By their very natures, gargoyles were immune to many forms of magical attack. Perhaps her gargoyle body could overcome the siren’s defensive magic where her magic-enhanced crossbow had failed. And Tethys’ magic didn’t seem to be physical in nature, at least Lillian had seen no sign of the dome-like shielding magic.

  L
illian leaped into motion, sending a silent prayer that what she did ranked as bravery not stupidity.

  The distance between Lillian and her prey halved. Her talons extended to their full length, her jaws parted in preparation to savage the siren’s throat. Let’s see if the bitch can sing sans vocal cords.

  Shadows shifted and suddenly Gregory was piling sidelong into her, his greater bulk and massive wingspan carrying them sideways several feet until they both slammed into the base of his stone pedestal.

  She took two swipes of his tongue to her face before it occurred that it wasn’t an attack on his part. Lillian tried to extract herself from their tangle of arms, wings, legs, and tails. But no matter how hard she tried, it was like pushing against a mountain.

  Gregory continued to growl happily as he gave her gentle nips and licks on her exposed skin.

  Lillian fought against Gregory’s overly happy greeting as it dawned on her that no song the siren sang could ever make him harm her. In fact, Tethys might not actually be able to force a person to do something outside of their innate character. Rather like a hypnotist, her power allowed her to influence what was already a part of a person’s makeup.

  When Tethys dialed up Gregory’s affectionate nature, he in turn became boisterous as a six-month-old puppy—if ever a puppy weighed in at half a ton.

  She forced her head to the side so she could study the siren. Her adversary was still half out of the water, seemingly in no hurry for Gregory to bring her his prize. But then, maybe Tethys couldn’t force anyone as powerful as Gregory to do anything he didn’t want to do.

  But what if she asked him to perform a task he didn’t find abhorrent?

  That gave Lillian pause.

  She broke out in a cold sweat.

  Gregory had made no attempt to hide his dislike of the human race and what it was currently doing to the planet and each other. Tethys had pretty much come out and said she wanted to reduce the human race to its hunter-gatherer origins.

  Could the siren influence Gregory enough to help?

  Oh, hell, yes. It wouldn’t take much more than a nudge to get Gregory to exterminate anything he perceived as evil. It was his sole purpose, his reason for existing. That, and to protect his Sorceress.

  That’s how the siren will use him, Lillian thought with growing panic. All Tethys need do is command him to protect his ‘Sorceress’ against the threat the humans represent. And he would.

  Hell, she needed to escape, buy herself sometime to think and strategize. There had to be a way to breach the siren’s influence on Gregory.

  Lillian glanced at the surrounding forest.

  Maybe she could escape and lead Gregory deeper into the woods. If she got him away from the siren’s immediate vicinity, then maybe he could rest and heal enough on his own to shake off Tethys’s influence.

  Gregory would know how to fight the siren. Lillian relaxed, realizing fighting with him was getting her nowhere. She lay still while Gregory cleaned her Riven inflicted wounds, but her mind was far from idle, and she formed the basis of a plan.

  He’d loosened his hold marginally as he worked his way lower. When she shifted her weight enough to free one arm, he tensed. Lillian followed through with the motion anyway, pretending his mane had been her destination all along. Once her fingers were buried in his thick mane, she started to groom the few tangles loose.

  Gregory’s death grip eased enough to allow her to shift positions so she could better reach his mane. The new position placed her sitting more upright with only one leg still trapped under him. He sprawled against her, curled in a semi-circle around her, his tail completely encircling her. She changed position again, bringing her muzzle closer to where his neck met his shoulder.

  As she reciprocated his grooming, Lillian dragged in another breath of his heady pheromones and nuzzled him in return. Her tongue lapped at his skin a moment or two before her teeth scraped over where her tongue had been moments before.

  Gregory rumbled in appreciation, shifting his body enough to reach the soft, delicate skin of her throat. Lillian freed her leg from under him and sat on her haunches.

  Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead to his and their horns clicked against one and other. She nuzzled him in a heartfelt apology and then brought to bear a palm-sized river stone from where it lined the border between the manicured grass and the stream’s edge.

  The impact against the side of Gregory’s head made a dull thud, which turned her stomach. He keeled over sideways with a little push from her, but he caught himself on his arms and braced himself as he shook his head.

  Lillian darted forward, placed a kiss on the abrasion she’d just created, whispered another apology, and then launched away from him.

  Her leap landed her a good ten feet from where she’d started. She didn’t slow or look behind like instinct clamored for her to do. The knowledge that Gregory would follow was equally instinctive.

  He had always been her Hunting Shadow. It didn’t matter what spells or enchantment might have been cast, he would always follow.

  She might not know what had befallen Gran and the unicorn, but once she freed Gregory from the siren’s influence, they would return together to face Tethys and learn the fate of their friends.

  With an easing of the despair, which had gripped her earlier, she raced into the depths of her maze with a lighter heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lillian made it clear of her maze, and quickly left the garden, cottage, and spa grounds far behind as she made her way deeper into the forest. The darkness under the trees didn’t hinder her gargoyle eyesight, and she barely slackened her pace. The only times she slowed was to maneuver around patches of underbrush too thick to go straight through. More often, she was forced to hurdle over a group of sleeping Fae or human soldiers.

  But the latter became fewer the deeper into the forest she fled. She didn’t really have a destination in mind, as her plan didn’t go much beyond running for her life and hoping Gregory followed. Once they were far enough away, she held a small, naïve hope he might shake off the siren’s spell if he wasn’t within range of her song.

  Part one of her plan had worked far better than she’d ever dared hope. Her hearing was mostly recovered and she had only to twitch an ear to her back trail to easily hear Gregory following even over the whistle of the wind in her ears. He wasn’t bothering to be subtle, which also told her he was still firmly under the siren’s sway. Had Gregory been in sole command of his wits, he’d never have made so much noise.

  Refusing to be disappointed, she continued doggedly northward, her gargoyle body not even winded after running for the better part of an hour.

  ****

  It had to be close to midnight. Two hours of running had worn away her earlier exuberance, but still she ran. Her muscles burned and her strides grew shorter even as she ordered her body to run faster. As if sensing victory, Gregory put on a burst of speed until his nose was even with the tip of her tail. She could feel the heat of his breath.

  One lunge would spell disaster. She had no doubt if he caught her this time, he would take her back to the siren, and she wouldn’t get a second chance at escape. Jumping over a fallen tree, she used the momentary cover it provided to veer sharply to the left.

  Gregory leaped over the trunk and changed course in the air, flapping his wings and shooting ahead of her to drop down almost directly in her path.

  She dropped to the ground, kicking up a wave of loam and leaf litter in front of her and then kept rolling, right under Gregory’s out stretched arm. She felt his fingers graze her hip as she slid by. But then she was off and running again faster than he could catch up.

  Blood surging in her veins, she wanted to shout that she was still free.

  For the moment.

  But she didn’t fool herself into thinking there would be many more moments of freedom. Her body was tiring, it was only a matter of time before it failed her. She was fast running out of options.

  Gregory sh
owed no signs of returning to himself, and she had no other tricks up her sleeve.

  There was only the medallion bumping against her breast as she ran. Gran had given it to her, and Lillian had never doubted her grandmother’s wisdom before, but as she ran and mulled over who else there was to offer aid, her mind kept going to one logical conclusion no matter how her heart shied away from the answer.

  Gran had given her the medallion, knowing what could happen. But did she dare to use it?

  Was Tethys worse than what aid the medallion might bring?

  Lillian feared she was, but also feared Gregory would not agree.

  But presently, he was a mindless tool of the siren’s making, and Lillian wasn’t feeling too confident in allowing the siren to continue unchecked.

  Oh, please, let this work and not backfire in my face.

  With a prayer, she skidded to a halt and brought one talon to her palm and sliced a small line in the fleshy base of her thumb. Three beads of blood welled up as she hastily smeared it across the medallion’s surface.

  She half expected the medallion to absorb the blood, or for the metal to flare up with bright fire in her hand. Even a slight glow? Something to show the magic worked.

  A whole lot of bloody nothing was what she got for her trouble.

  Useless medallion and overrated magic.

  Was she doing something wrong?

  A full body-bruising weight slammed into Lillian’s back. It drove her to her knees and then flat to the ground with her muzzle half-buried in the forest loam. Breath rushed out of her lungs in a pained whoosh. She grunted and dragged in a new breath of air; it hurt worse going in than it had coming out. Jolly. Her mane covered her eyes so she couldn’t see a thing, but she did feel an earthworm wiggling between two front teeth.

  She snarled and spat, trying and failing to get her limbs back under her so she could lever the dead weight from her back.

  A rumbling purr was the only response to her struggles.

  “Gregory, get off me.”

  A warm, wet tongue stroked a path between the joints of her wings. She debated boxing his ears with them but decided he might take it as an invitation to play. Another happy rumble emanated from just behind her head. She supposed she should be glad it wasn’t one of the darker sides of his personality dominating him at the moment.