The Avatars Series: Books 1-3

by Blackwood, Lisa

With a gasp, Lillian stepped away from both the doorway and the newcomer. Her hurried backpedaling nearly had her running over a smaller body behind her.

  The delicate female sidestepped in time.

  Lillian whirled to face this second newcomer while she tried to determine if there were others with these two, or if they had come alone.

  That they were a threat was all too certain.

  She’d seen them four months before at a distance when Gregory had first discovered the demon seed within her and had tried to dig it out with less than favorable results. That time Lillian had only a glimpse of the dryad and gargoyle standing before her now, but she’d known whom they were even then. They had been a part of the first eight years of her life, a time that was nothing more than a blank void, except for a few details filled in by others and what she herself had uncovered. But she knew them on a visceral level nonetheless.

  Her birth parents.

  The amulet Gran had given her with the cryptic message ‘smear three drops of your blood upon the amulet and it will summon your last allies’ now became clear.

  It all made sense—why Gran had been reluctant to give it to her, and the command to use it as a last resort.

  Well, this was as last resort as it got. She needed to know one thing first however, and she modulated her voice to be heard over Tethys’s song, which she noted seemed not to affect her at all now that the medallion was hot to the touch, nor did the song seem to influence Lillian’s parents. Handy trick that.

  “If you’ve come to aid me for my own sake, I thank you. But if you come only on the Lady of Battles’ order, then leave me to my fate. I will know if you lie.” Her voice came out strong, almost like she was in command of the situation, though her words were completely false bravo, she couldn’t detect lies as well as Gregory. And even he might have trouble gaging her parents. If they had been double crossing the Lady of Battles for the better part of twenty years, they were masters at twisting the truth.

  “We knew we could never sit by and allow the Lady of Battles to destroy you,” Lillian’s mother spoke for both of them.

  A loud growl crested above the siren’s song.

  Gregory.

  She jerked her attention back to her beloved in time to see him launch himself at her father. Her mother danced nimbly out of the way and dragged Lillian stumbling along behind as both males rolled past in a biting, snarling ball of winged fury.

  “Do you accept our offer of aid, daughter?” her dryad mother asked as she calmly watched the two males continue to inflict damage on each other. “We are running out of time.”

  Lillian started toward the two, concern driving her forward even when she knew she wasn’t ready for a fight in gargoyle form, not like the one she was witnessing. The two fighters would break apart, then with lightning fast moves come together again in a fury of slashing, biting, and lethal kicking. Even their tails and wings were weapons. Both fighters already had an alarming number of bloody welts covering their skin.

  “Do something. They are going to kill each other.”

  “Kill each other? Perhaps, but not for days. They’re both hard-headed gargoyles and at the moment fairly well matched.” The dryad made a gesture to the two males. “Normally, your other half could finish your father with ease, but Gregory has had a hard time of it recently, yes?”

  The heat from the medallion increased, forcing Lillian to clasp its chain and hold it away from her skin.

  “Exactly.” Her mother nodded at the medallion and then inclined her head in the direction of the siren. “There lays the true danger. The medallions are reaching the limit of their ability to protect us.”

  At her words, Lillian noticed her mother was also wearing one of the medallions. Had her father been wearing one?

  More importantly, could one help Gregory?

  “Time to exchange greetings with the siren,” her mother said and motioned Lillian forward, back toward the door in the air. When they were almost to the threshold, her mother pulled ahead and gave a formal bow, like something from a long ago court, or two martial artists facing each other. Her skirts swirled around her, made of some glorious burgundy and black fabric.

  Lillian blinked, then a second time to be certain, but yes, her mother had just plucked a bit of black off the skirt.

  As she straightened, she spun the bit of glassy black shadow in her fingers, readjusting her hold on the shard and then flinging it almost faster than Lillian’s gargoyle enhanced vision could track. The bit of black, a tiny little throwing knife, she realized, flew through the air. Unwaveringly, it hit its mark and buried itself inches deep in Tethys’s throat.

  Her song cut off mid-note as she gagged on blood and the solid bit of blackness lodged in her vocal cords. Clawing at the knife, the siren bent over and retched blood as she dug it out.

  “That will not slow her for long,” her mother said as she dragged Lillian away from the doorway. Seconds later, a blast of power streaked through the magic construction, lashing out at the empty space they’d stood in only a moment ago.

  “Now,” her mother called.

  Another gargoyle emerged from the shadows near where Gregory still fought with her father. Instinctively, she drew breath to call a warning to Gregory, but her father sprang away before she could, his momentum carrying him in front of the doorway. Gregory followed close on his tail.

  And the third gargoyle struck with a blast of magic. It slammed into Gregory and tossed him right through the doorway and halfway to where the siren still thrashed in the stream. Gregory rolled, his arms, wings and tail all trying to slow his momentum; however, it was one of the stone rings circling her glade which finally stopped him. Lillian winced at the impact that shattered stone.

  Looking beyond Gregory to where Tethys struggled, Lillian saw her lips moving, but only blood came out. Oh, she would have been screaming orders to her other slaves, but without her voice to command them, the other Fae stood waiting, blank as sleepwalkers.

  Concern for Gregory drew her eyes back to his hunched form. He remained still for several moments, and Lillian’s traitorous feet were already moving her toward him. With a grunt and shake, he righted himself and then bolted back into motion.

  Lillian’s mother flicked more of the black shards, but her aim wasn’t for Gregory. They collided with the magic doorway, sinking deep into its border. She continued to throw more shards into the weaving until it bristled with them. Then with a high pitched whine, the magic holding the threshold open collapsed, taking the door and its view of the center of the maze with it.

  Gregory vanished still on the other side, trapped there with the siren. Lillian felt hollow inside. She’d allowed her parents to betray him.

  She’d betrayed Gregory, her protector, the other half of her soul.

  As if unaware of Lillian’s inner turmoil, her mother brushed her hands clean of whatever residual magic might coat them and then turned to Lillian. “We must strategize how to capture and hold your gargoyle long enough to free him from the siren’s power, but we need to move first before Gregory returns. It will not take him long to build another threshold to this place. He will be desperate to find you.”

  “I haven’t yet decided whether you’re any better than Tethys. It seems everyone wants to use us, or own us, or possess us.” Lillian left unsaid the uncharitable thought, that that seemed the natural order of things for avatars of the gods. She and Gregory were, in point of fact, tools owned by the Divine Ones. Gregory might word it slightly differently without a hint of censure, but he’d never tried to hide the fact either. “I’ll listen to you, but I make no promises. If you so much as try to force my hand, I’ll take my chances with Tethys.”

  Lillian’s father approached, a great dark shadow, but lacking the comfort of Gregory’s presence. This gargoyle, father though he might be to her, was a complete stranger. Thus suspect until proven an ally.

  Her father’s body language was all open curiosity, and she was certain he wanted to come closer for
a hug, or maybe a sniff? She hadn’t a clue how family relations might work among gargoyles.

  The third newcomer, another male gargoyle, sidled up on her right side. Feeling suddenly hemmed in she shifted her weight, wings spreading for balance and talons coming up.

  Her parents both stepped back.

  “Lillian, easy, don’t hurt him.” Her mother cautioned.

  Lillian blinked at her. Don’t hurt him?

  He was as big as she was, which did put him slightly shorter than either Gregory or her father. And the newcomer was slim, less bulky, his gait somewhat awkward, almost coltish in his movements.

  He continued to approach her position, looking for all the world like he was vibrating with excitement.

  “Lillian, meet your brother,” her father’s tone made it sound like she should already know that detail, but uttered it aloud for clarification’s sake.

  “My brother?” Lillian’s mind blanked and kept trying to visualize her older, adoptive brother Jason, but another part of her knew they meant her natural born brother.

  “He’s newly emerged from my hamadryad,” Lillian’s mother said with a touch of pride. “He came early, sensing our distress at your situation. As soon as your grandmother gave you the medallion, we were able to sense the danger to you and your gargoyle. We came as soon as Shadowlight was mobile.

  “Brother?” Lillian croaked, still hung up on the fact she had a younger brother. He’d just emerged—by that her mother meant born. Her little brother had just been born and had already come to help her battle Tethys.

  Lillian drew a calming breath. So far, she’d say her family had risked more for her than she’d ever risked for them. The image of Gregory and her father fighting flashed across her closed eyelids. There was no way she wanted Gregory and her little brother to meet, not until her other half was in full possession of himself again. She opened her eyes and speared her mother with her gaze. “I want to hear more, but not here. You’re correct. Gregory is going to come storming back any moment.”

  Lillian’s mother nodded and then gestured to where her father was standing next to a doorway, one like Gregory had created, only this one opened onto a night-shadowed meadow, the darker bulk of trees marking the boundaries.

  She could well be looking at a very pretty trap. Then again, her parents were presently the only hope she had of freeing Gregory from Tethys’s spell. And if they were still serving the Lady of Battles, well then, they had even less reason to want Gregory entrapped by another. Lillian would use them to help her free Gregory, and if they planned to in turn betray her to the Battle Goddess, she would just double cross them first.

  A touch of guilt was followed by a strong protective instinct. It warmed her heart as she looked upon her younger brother. All she saw was innocence and determination in his gaze.

  Him she would protect, and give Gran another grandchild to mother if Lillian’s own parents prove deceitful.

  Decision made, she met her little brother’s gaze and held her hands out to him. He clasped them eagerly.

  “Come,” she said with a gentle squeeze of her fingers, “I want to get to know you. My grandmother, the human woman who raised me,” Lillian clarified for him when his ears flicked forward in question, “named me Lillian. I heard our mother call you Shadowlight, correct?”

  “Yes.” His voice was deep and rusty with disuse, or maybe it was more that he was just learning to use his voice for the first time.

  They walked through the doorway and into the tall grasses of the meadow. The moon was still climbing the sky, but its nearly full brilliance bathed the meadow in light bright enough she could make out the fluffy seed heads swaying in the wind.

  “Here, in the Mortal Realm, we must hide ourselves from the humans, or blend in as best we can so they do not learn of our existence and hunt us down. Is it okay if I call you Shad for short? It sounds more like the nicknames we use here.”

  “That would please me. Our parents hope to make this Realm home for a little while. At least until it is safe to return to the Magic Realm.”

  In other words, until she and Gregory taught the Lady of Battles a lesson not soon to be forgotten, and it was safe for everyone to return.

  Ah, the clarity of innocence.

  And her little brother, no matter what nasty surprise the Battle Goddess might have planted within him, was innocent of any wrong doing on his part. It wasn’t his fault he’d been born into a situation beyond his control.

  And just like that, Shadowlight became one of the things she would protect.

  It didn’t matter that she didn’t know he existed this time yesterday. She knew he existed now and was a part of her family.

  More than happy by his older sister’s acceptance, Shadowlight proceeded to sniff every inch of her mane, then moved to her face where he started the big, sloppy gargoyle kisses, which must in fact be a species quark and not just some inherent Gregory-ism.

  After a few moments of mutual washing, Lillian pushed Shadowlight’s questing muzzle away. “I need to talk with our parents for a few minutes.”

  He bobbed his head in that seemingly universal sign of understanding, then wandered off to go chase the fireflies randomly blinking around the meadow.

  He looked so terribly young.

  But just how young?

  From Gregory’s and the other dryads’ explanations, she knew a gargoyle child was usually gestated in the hamadryad tree until he was ten years of age, at which point, the tree would go into labour and birth the gargoyle fully grown.

  Even as ten-year-olds, gargoyles were deadly to evil. Gregory had come to her rescue when they were both only eight, choosing to be born two years early so he could free her from the Battle Goddess’s domain.

  Gregory had finished maturing while he’d slept in stone here on earth. She knew Gregory had faced, and killed many dangers to extract her from the lady’s domain, but he was an Avatar. That powerful magic already his to control even at the tender age of eight, and he’d had the added benefit of many lifetimes of knowledge to call upon.

  And yet her brother had none of that, and still he’d come to her rescue.

  It told her something she’d always suspected about the loyalty and bravery of gargoyles.

  It also explained her own well developed protective instincts. Those too, must be a species characteristic.

  “Tell me how we can overcome Tethys’s enchantment,” Lillian paused, her voice shook slightly, “but first tell me your names because they were stripped from me shortly after I arrived here. And I very much want to know my parents.”

  Her gargoyle father was the first to step up, and he gave her a huge embrace, nearly lifting her off the ground.

  Lillian held back a sob, only now realizing how much of an emotional void there was from not knowing her parents.

  When he put her down, he stepped back and looked her in the eye and said, “I am Stalks the Darkness.”

  After a moment, she cleared her throat and scrubbed away the tears on her forearm. “Do you mind if I call you Darkness?

  “Darkness,” her father rumbled, “suits me well enough.”

  Her mother came forward and placed her hands on Lillian’s shoulders and then bowed until their foreheads pressed together briefly. She said something in a language Lillian didn’t have a hope of following, but she assumed the alien mouthful was her mother’s real name.

  Perhaps seeing her daughter’s expression she clarified, “In your human tongue, I would be called Born at the Mountain’s Foot Where the River Runs Cold.”

  Lillian mulled that name over for a moment. “Do you mind if I call you River?”

  Her mother smiled softly. “Darkness and Shadowlight call me that often. You are welcome to as well.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her mother reached one delicate hand out to Lillian’s nearest horn in wonder. “I don’t care that it was through the Lady’s manipulation, but you make a most beautiful gargoyle. Such a strong, brave young woman would mak
e any mother proud, but I am doubly so, because I know what you had to overcome.”

  “Thank you,” Lillian whispered. “I would like to know more about my family, but Gregory can track me anywhere.”

  Her father made a deep huffing sound. “He wouldn’t be much of a protector if he couldn’t.” She thought she detected a hint of reproach as if he thought Gregory hadn’t been doing a very good job.

  Over protective gargoyles, she muttered into the sanctity of her own mind, before she fully realized she was one of those overly protective gargoyles. Lillian sighed, mostly at her own folly.

  “You said you had a plan to help me regain Gregory.” She divided her attention between her parents, allowing them to decide who would answer. She honestly didn’t care which one explained, as long as she was enlightened.

  It was her father, Darkness, who answered her. “When Gregory comes to find you, we will already have laid in place several wards in this meadow to prevent him from building one of the portals that would allow him to return you quickly to the siren. His instincts will tell him to get you away from anything he perceives as dangerous—us being the greatest concern at the moment.

  “But we will not be here when he comes,” Darkness smiled, one of those toothy gargoyle grins that gave anyone whom saw it pause. “There will only be you waiting for him. In no distress whatsoever. He’ll likely check you over for traps, spells or injuries. That will be the chance you’ll need to follow through with our plan.”

  River broke in, “You will not like the next part, but it must be done. It’s the only way to break the siren’s spell.”

  Her father nodded agreement, then gestured to his mate. “Show her.”

  From around her hips, River removed a great belt or girdle as they were called long ago—Lillian didn’t know what else to call the gem encrusted band. She wasn’t up on her medieval fantasy fashions.

  When her mother handed the ornament to her father and he demonstrated how it would go around a gargoyle’s neck, the item went from lavish fashion accessory to slave collar in a blink of an eye.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven