Chapter Nine
Not for the first time in his many lives, Gregory wished he was just a gargoyle and Lillian was simply the woman he loved. But no amount of wishing on his part could make them anything other than the Avatars. Lillian was the Mother’s Sorceress. He was the God-blessed Protector. Nothing could ever change that fact—stone was more flexible. Yet he still played this stupid and dangerous game with the Sorceress. He couldn’t help himself. Anger had stirred in his gut when the dryads talked of him as if he was a stud to win over with words of seduction and coy looks. Then Lillian had said she didn’t want him, that the young one with the look of a predator could have him. He narrowed his eyes, the ache in his heart still too fresh.
While the Divine Ones forbade their Avatars from mating with each other, his lady had always loved him without uncertainties or regrets throughout their many lifetimes. Even if they never fulfilled their deepest longing for fear of birthing a monster with godlike power upon the three Realms, they had their millennia-enduring love to rely upon when sadness became bitter. Until now, when the Sorceress had said she didn’t want her gargoyle.
Her careless words had hurt more than he’d ever let her know, but the sting had diminished moments later when she defended him from the other young dryad. His lips turned up at the memory of how Lillian had said she would do many unpleasant things to the foolish youngling if Kayla tried to coerce him into mating with her. Not that Kayla would have succeeded. Nothing would make him even consider mating with her. He glanced at Kayla. It wasn’t her form that repelled him. It was her expression. She stared at him with hunger bordering on obsession.
When he inhaled a deep lungful of air, it was impossible to not taste Lillian’s essence, they sat so close. It was sap sweet, but thankfully lacked the heady tang of her blood. He’d already broken one oath to save her life. How many others would she tempt him to break in this life? He glanced down at his hybrid form. Unwise as it might be, perhaps he was the one doing the tempting now.
It was the nagging worry she saw him as more beast than man that had prompted him to first change his shape. His judgment was compromised when he was in the same room with his lady. It was the only explanation. For why else would he complicate the situation more than needed?
He grimaced as the truth came to him. Had he been thinking rationally instead of acting like a hormone-drunk fool, he would have let her believe him a beast, some kind of loyal pet. Instead, his anger had swayed him into taking this form to show Lillian what she was throwing away, what she did not want.
All this would be so much easier if Lillian remembered who she was, but he dared not restore the Sorceress’s memories until he had time to investigate what the Lady of Battles had done to her. There was no telling what traps the dark goddess had cast upon Lillian’s soul.
He’d stalled long enough. While he couldn’t tell the full truth, there was information Lillian needed now. “I don’t know your world or its troubles,” he began, “but I have sensed an unbalance growing in this Realm while I slept in stone. It grows stronger with each season, and if I am not mistaken, it has cost you and your people much grief.”
“The Riven.” Vivian gave him an accompanying nod.
“Yes,” he rumbled, “these creatures are known to me.” He glanced sidelong at his lady. She sat pressed into her chair, leaning back so far it looked like she might break the back off the seat in her attempt to put space between them. If he could have gotten away with touching some part of her, he would have read her thoughts. But to judge by her pale lips and pinched look, she was about to bolt, so he didn’t. Instead, he turned to Vivian. “I listened as you told Lillian about your troubles with these Riven, but when did these problems start?”
“A few years ago. Why?”
“Lillian and I first came to this Realm twelve years ago. Is twelve years a reasonable time estimate for when the dark ones arrived?”
“Are you saying you and Lillian are responsible for the creatures of darkness coming here?”
“Perhaps. I will start from the beginning so you can understand what has happened.” He stared at Lillian while he talked, focusing on her until the others in the room became distant to him, unimportant. “First you must know we share a link of magic and spirit, one which has endured many lifetimes together.” Lillian’s eyes widened at the word lifetimes, but she remained silent.
He held still as she reached out to caress his hair. Her lips shaped his name. He intertwined his fingers with hers and brought her hand to rest over his heart. At the contact, her thoughts flowed to him from where her hand rested on his chest: an overwhelming sense of peace whenever they were together. Wonder and curiosity. Excitement mixed with a hint of fear at her new awareness of him. But eclipsing all else was her unconditional trust in him.
Basking in that warmth, he continued, “When I was still gestating in my mother’s tree, I felt you in my mind, calling me. I could not deny that summons. Newly born, the fluids of my mother’s tree damp and sticky upon my flesh, I answered your call. I was still learning how to coordinate my limbs when the memories of our past lives came to me, awakening with my power. Not yet a day old and I already knew my purpose—to protect you.”
Her gaze flicked from his face to their interlaced fingers, then back again.
She didn’t pull away, so he resumed his story. “Had my father not been near at the time of my birth, I would have run off in pursuit of you without any weapons but for what I was born with. He couldn’t stop me from seeking you out, but he gave me his warded jewelry as added protection until my magic awoke fully. I went on the hunt, following the direction of your calls. They led me to the Lady of Battles’ domain. I rescued you, but the escape cost me much of my magical strength. Passing through the Veil between the Realms is something only a limited number of immortals can survive. We were still too young. The Veil came close to killing us. Had I been older, with the full force of my magic at my command, I could have sealed the rift and returned home to our own Realm. But I didn’t have the strength and made the shorter journey to the Mortal Realm where I found a family to raise you. Then I surrendered to the healing sleep of stone until you woke me. It’s possible something from that realm followed us here.”
“Newly birthed. Sleep of stone.” His lady mumbled half to herself. She jerked her head up and met his gaze. Her eyes widened with each breath that hissed past her lips. She paled, her complexion turning a waxy tint until he feared she was ill. Then she stood, and lifted her head proudly, shoulders straight. Her colouring improved, if a vivid red was better than a pallid shade. A foreboding expression settled over her face, casting her features into harsh lines. She looked angry—yet not at him.
Baffled, he waited.
She brushed her hand along his mane and her expression softened. “God. You’re just a child.”
“He doesn’t look like a child to me,” Kayla said. “And that brings us back to the reason we are here.”
Lillian whirled on the other dryads, and took a step toward Kayla. “I understood about a third of what he said, but I did catch the part about his age. You do the math. He was born, found and rescued me in less than a day, then came here and turned to stone only to wake and rescue me again. He’s not even three days old.”
“You’re looking at it like a human,” Kayla countered.
“No, I’m thinking like a non-perv. There’s a difference.”
“No matter what you think, he is a gargoyle. If you don’t believe me, ask him. Dryads normally gestate their girl children within their trees for three years. But a ‘gargoyle child’ is longer, closer to ten years. When they are finally born, they are mature, fully developed.”
Gregory nodded. “I was almost mature at birth. I finished maturing while in stone.”
“I don’t care, that’s not the same as life experience.” Lillian transferred her scowl to him. “You’re still a child.”
“No more than you. We departed the Spirit Realm together and were conceived within mo
ments of each other.”
Lillian’s teeth clicked together and she exhaled another hissing breath. “Fine,” she said, and patted his hand, her voice calming. “But you still slept through childhood because you needed to heal. You took injuries protecting me, and you lack the experiences you would have learned during childhood and adolescence. Now it’s my turn to return a favour or three. This situation with the dryads isn’t your concern. I’ll deal with them. You are not duty-bound to . . . aid them.” Her lips twisted into a fierce smile. She sent another glower in Kayla’s direction, then turned her attention to Sable. “I’m not completely unreasonable to the plight of the dryads. Your kind requires a gargoyle, and I gather there aren’t a whole lot of them around. Fine, I can understand your concern. Desperation, even. You or others of your kind can come back in ten years and make your case to the gargoyle.”
“Surely you jest,” Kayla said.
Lillian stood between him and the other dryads with her hands fisted at her sides, her spine rigid. “I’m dead serious.”
The scent in the room changed to one of challenge. His little dryad was protective of him. It was . . . endearing. Gregory hastily swallowed a rumble of laughter. Sable coughed into her hand, while Lillian’s grandmother rocked back and forth in her chair like nothing had been said. Kayla exited the room with a stiff-legged gait. Lillian followed the other dryad’s retreat with unblinking eyes.
“Well,” Vivian said into the silence. “Glad we’ve aired that laundry. Now, where were we, Gregory? You were saying about how you came to rescue Lillian.”
“Indeed.” His humor vanished with the reminder that creatures of darkness were still abroad in this realm, creating havoc and killing innocents. “I freed Lillian from the Lady of Battles’ imprisonment.”
“Who is that?” To judge by Lillian’s somber tone, her earlier anger at the dryads was forgotten.
“The Lady of Battles is a creature of extreme darkness. She wanted your power. I put a stop to her plans.” Gregory winced at his evasion. I hope, he added silently.
“Go on.”
“She was not always evil. She once served the Light as a…” Gregory paused, and then sorted through Lillian’s mind for the proper word. “A prison warden created by the Divine Ones to keep evil in check. As their daughter, the Lady of Battles had great power. For millennia, she served the Divine Ones. She had a twin, the Lord of the Underworld. The Lady also had a consort, the Shieldbearer. Although her consort was a god in his own right, he lacked the power of the twins. Jealous of the power the Lord of the Underworld commanded, the Shieldbearer attacked the Lady’s twin, intent on taking that power for himself. The Lord of the Underworld saw the evil growing in the Shieldbearer’s heart and deemed him incurable. And as his nature dictated, Lord Death destroyed that evil the only way he knew how. He killed the Shieldbearer and sent his soul back to the Divine Ones to heal.
“If he had realized what that one act would bring about, the Lord of the Underworld would not have killed his twin’s mate. The Lady of Battles went insane. She blamed her brother for her pain. And so the war began. The Twins would have destroyed an entire world had the Divine Ones not intervened. They punished both Twins by banishing them from the Spirit Realm and chaining them to their respective temples within the Magic Realm. Then in the greatest moment of upheaval the three Realms have ever seen, the Divine Ones sundered them apart, separating the Realms with the creation of the Veil. The chaos caused by the sundering forced many who lived in the once-peaceful Magic Realm to flee for their lives. Some sought shelter with the Lord of the Underworld, but a great many more fled to the Mortal Realm, far from the influence of either Twin.
“But the Veil didn’t stop the Lady of Battles. Even imprisoned she drew a great army to serve her, the very creatures of darkness she was supposed to keep imprisoned. The Lord of the Underworld gathered his own army. I, like all gargoyles, belong to him. For centuries, the Lady has been growing her army, and not all her warriors served willingly. I believe by capturing you, she planned to make me serve her.”
Lillian closed her eyes, her lashes a dark line along her cheeks. She spoke without looking at him. “So . . . I was captured by this battle goddess?”
“Yes.”
“And with your help I escaped to this realm and the Riven followed us here? If I hadn’t gotten captured, none of this would have happened. That makes this mess my fault. It’s up to me to make it right. You said the Lady of Battles wanted my power. If I have power, it must be good for something. What can I do to force the Riven back to their prison?”
“You claim responsibility that is not yours to take. You were a child, innocent of any wrongdoing. Before you challenge the Riven, you must first be trained in your magic.” Panic weighed heavy in Gregory’s stomach. If she started to probe for her magic, there was no telling what would happen.
Until he had time to discover what had happened to her in the battle goddess’s kingdom, he couldn’t trust her, no matter how much his heart wanted to.
“Then tell me what I need to know. Teach me.”
“You make it sound so easy. There is so much you must learn. I scarcely know enough of your words to explain in a way you’ll understand.” He sighed, his brows drawing together in thought. What was safe to tell her? He rubbed at his forehead, mildly surprised when he didn’t encounter horns. Already this hybrid body was beginning to feel ordinary. Natural—like the tenderness he felt for his lady. And that was the danger.
There was so much he didn’t know.
For now, a half-truth would have to do. “Think of Realms as worlds within worlds. The smallest, centermost one, is the Mortal Realm, where we are now. The one surrounding it is the Magic Realm, where the Twins were banished. The last and greatest, the Spirit Realm, surrounds the others. All the Realms are protected and separated by the Veil—a great weaving of magic composed of all the elements. As I said before, when I came to the Mortal Realm, I damaged a small section of the Veil separating the two realms. Something from the Magic Realm may have followed us here.”
“Can the Veil be repaired?” Lillian questioned. “Can I send the Riven back to the Magic Realm and seal them there?”
He hesitated while he chose the next fragments of truth he hoped would satisfy Lillian’s curiosity. “Depending on how many of these Riven are here and how strong they have grown, I might require help to kill them or banish them. Once the enemy is defeated, I can seal the tear that permitted their invasion in the first place. But all of the Riven must be routed from this land or they may be able to reopen the rift.”
“How do you know all this?” Lillian asked. “You’re less than a week old.”
“Like all gargoyles born of a dryad mother, I carry many of her memories with me—absorbed along with the food and water while I was a part of her tree. And as I’ve said before, I have memories from my other lives. More resurface each day.”
“Right.”
Lillian’s word was one of agreement, but her tone and the set of her shoulders said otherwise. Sighing out a deep breath, he wondered if he’d ever understand his lady in this lifetime. She was so different in her speech and her manner.
“Why do you remember all this and I don’t? What happened to my memories if it wasn’t a drowning accident?”
His stomach contracted into a tight knot. “You were not strong enough to travel through the Veil. You were damaged.” His words sounded rushed to his own ears. Merciful Divine Ones, please don’t let her guess, not yet.
“You did mention the Veil before,” she said, her eyes thoughtful. “Will I heal in time?”
“I believe so.” Please, don’t let that be another lie.
“In the meantime, what are we going to do about these Riven? And why this Realm? You call it the Mortal Realm, like it’s the poor cousin. What benefits would they gain by coming here?”
Gregory nodded his head, pleased she’d asked a question he could answer without lying to her. “Here they have the freedom to gather bot
h strength and numbers, free from the Lady of Battles’ notice.”
“They’re planning to set up their own dictatorship. Lovely.”
“Yes, I fear that is so. However, I have more immediate concerns,” Gregory rumbled as he looked at her anew. She was coping with her new situation remarkably well. It was time to test her magic to see if he could detect any taint upon it. “Your hamadryad—your tree,” he explained, when he saw the look of confusion on her face, “was wounded during the attack, and I didn’t have the strength to heal both the tree and you. I placed a weaving over the injuries to protect against further damage, but the wounds need tending. I would appreciate it if one of the dryads would guide you in learning a dryad’s magic.” He pointedly focused on Sable. “I can supply strength and my blood if needed, but the actual act of healing isn’t one of my greater skills.”
“I would be honoured.” Sable bowed, and then straightening, she glided up next to Lillian. “Come, little sister. I will direct you in the use of a dryad’s power.”
Lillian glanced back at him questioningly, but Sable tugged on her arm and dragged her in the direction of the back door. He tracked the pleasant sway of his lady’s hips as she descended the stairs. Alone now, shadows curled around his body, hiding him as he summoned his gargoyle form. When he had his familiar shape back, he dropped to all fours and followed the lingering scent of dryad.
* * *
Hot, humid air hinted at the chance of an evening thundershower. Gregory hoped for one. Perhaps it would wash away some of the stink. He wrinkled his muzzle in distaste. The mixed odors of slaughter, old death, and burnt flesh hung over the grove. If they managed to awaken Lillian’s dryad magic, it might help purify the grove. Her natural dryad magic wasn’t linked to her powers as the Sorceress, so it should be safe for Lillian to summon it without triggering any trap left by the Lady of Battles. He hoped.
The Avatars Series: Books 1-3 Page 9
