She shook off the cobwebs and processed her surroundings, the dire nature of her new reality dawning on her. She was back in Fort Tryon Park, surrounded by the ring of giant standing stones that had been erected on the museum grounds.
Vines were wrapped around her body, securing her to an elliptical stone altar that formed the center of the Celtic monument. Her dripping wet clothes were pasted to her skin. She strained against the vines but imbued with magical life, they matched her movements. One of the vines tightened around her throat, choking off her air supply. She eased her resistance and the vine loosened its hold on her.
It was hopeless.
She looked up at the stone head of Balor. The malevolent sculpture loomed over her, backlit by a jagged flicker of lightning. Its cyclopean eye was cold and inscrutable, awaiting its human sacrifice. The face seemed more lifelike than usual, almost as if the demon had already begun its transition into the world of men.
Samhain was upon them.
Rhianna averted her face from the sinister effigy and squinted against the downpour. Lightning flashed and revealed Artan, who stood a few feet from the altar. Sheets of rain cascaded down his gray hide. He regarded Rhianna as if she were an insect, his features devoid of any emotion.
For a second she thought Artan might have reverted back to a statue, but the next burst of lightning disproved her assumption. All humanity had left his monstrous features, his eyes now vacant pools of blackness that were bereft of emotion.
A servant of darkness.
She knew it was hopeless but the words flowed from her lips anyway. “Artan, please help me...”
The gargoyle didn’t respond, remaining coiled in stony indifference. Rhianna was totally drenched now and even if she somehow made it out of this predicament in one piece, she‘d be lucky to escape without catching pneumonia. Her hair was plastered against her head in thick, wet clumps and she could feel her teeth chattering. The storm be damned, Rhianna wasn’t going to give up without a fight. If it was her destiny to end up as a sacrifice in an occult ritual on this night, she would fight until the last breath. She directed her words to the stoic sentinel before her, once upon a time her protector, now her captor.
“Artan, you can... You must... Fight this...” Rhianna would have kept going, hoping against hope that her words might reach the man now subsumed by the beast, but Cael interrupted her desperate pleas. “You are wasting your breath. Artan serves a new master now.”
The one-eyed gargoyle loomed above her. The empty eye socket was a dark, gaping wound. Rain cascaded down his leathery wings. Rhianna realized that Cael’s tattoos were dimly visible over his gray, thickly muscled gargoyle skin. Strange the details one noticed before death. She fought back a gasp when she spotted the curved Blade of Kings in his clawed hand. Cael held up the sword, lightning playing over its surface.
“Ironic. The weapon that defeated me will become the instrument of my victory, paving the way for Balor’s return.”
A terrified Rhianna realized that Cael planned on turning the blade against her. The futility of any form of resistance snapped into sobering focus. She was going to die. Artan was her last hope but he had succumbed to the dark thrall of the Otherworld.
Cael clutched the Eye of Balor in one hand, the Blade of Kings in another. “Lord Balor, accept this offering on the eve of your rebirth.”
Without warning, Cael drew the tip of the blade across Rhianna’s forehead. It all happened so fast that she had no time to react. Blood sheeted down her face and pooled on the altar. Cael tipped the end of the bloody blade against the Eye of Balor. The first step in the ritual.
The druid tilted his head skyward and held up the blood-smeared Eye of Balor with both hands. Storm clouds were gathering above, clustering around Fort Tryon Park. It had become the center of a supernatural storm. Another bolt of lightning rent the sky and scythed toward the Celtic monument below. Cael’s grip on the gem never faltered as the incoming beam of pulsating energy rippled toward it.
The beam found the Eye of Balor and the jewel ignited, going supernova. Cael basked in the wave of sizzling energy as it split off into multiple forks of supernatural power. Each tentacle-like beam shot over the Celtic temple and found one of the giant stones. The obelisks ignited with crackling energy, turning into miniature red suns, and deflected the pulse of occult power toward the statue resting at the center of the monument. The face of Balor.
One by one, eight streams of energy tore from the giant standing stones into Balor’s gargantuan countenance. A web of unearthly energy enveloped the ancient Celtic temple.
Rhianna took in the supernatural lightshow with bated breath. Her fear stood in sharp contrast to the ecstasy flickering over Cael's gargoyle features. This fearsome display of power was merely the beginning – the ritual that would bring Balor back to Earth had entered its first phase. A veil of magical energy enveloped the stone statue and powered up its one huge eye.
“Balor, I welcome your return to this world-”
Cael’s words broke off as powerful tremors shook the ground. Rhianna turned her eyes to the likeness of Balor. The face of the sculpture rippled and shifted with unnatural life. There was a flicker in the cyclopean eye. Horrified but unable to look away, Rhianna grasped what was happening. The statue was coming to life. Its giant mouth extended, revealing rows upon rows of jagged teeth. The soil churned and cracked...
The Stonehengian circle of rocks was rebuilding and reconstituting itself, each boulder snapping into the next, revealing themselves to be broken pieces of a greater whole. Together they formed a giant, one-eyed gargoyle statue.
Becoming...
BALOR. LORD OF THE OTHERWORLD.
Rhianna’s mouth hung open.
A massive figure rose from the ground, soil rolling down its stony hide, rain whipping its gargantuan form. Giant wings extended and the monster let out a demonic bellow. For a moment, both Cael and Rhianna were awed by the savage spectacle unfolding before them. Even Artan appeared affected on some level, emerging from his cocoon of indifference.
Triumph filled Cael's gargoyle features as he bowed before the newly risen Lord of the Otherworld.
“Lord Balor, take this world as yours to rule!”
The giant Balor gargoyle tilted its head toward the blazing sky above, vast eye a red center of pulsating power. Balor unleashed a furious roar and a giant bolt erupted from his eye to streak across the Manhattan skyline.
As the buildings of the city jumped into view, the beam exploded into individual tendrils of fiery energy. The rays wove their way around skyscrapers to find their targets — the gargoyle statues that populated the ledges and rooftops of Manhattan.
The beams slammed into the crouched statues, giving life where none had been before. Everywhere the sizzling tendrils impacted, the gargoyle statues erupted into violent motion. The screams of the awoken beasts echoed through the night, chilling the blood of those unfortunate souls who heard their cries.
One by one, the winged creatures took flight. The gargoyles surged toward Fort Tryon Park, a band of darkness covering the storm-riddled sky.
Lord Balor had returned to the world of men. And he had brought an army.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A HEAVY BASS rumble detonated the night sky. Lightning crackled and flashed. Cael watched the approaching gargoyle horde with awe and pride. They swarmed the night sky, their bat-like silhouettes backlit against the storm raging high above. Their shrieks pierced the night and not even thunder could drown them out.
Balor’s invasion force was gathering.
All too soon, they would descend upon the city and unleash a horror the world had not witnessed to for fifteen centuries.
Cael bowed before his master, Balor. “I offer this sacrifice to you, my Lord. May her life force become yours.”
The words were greeted by another monstrous roar from the giant gargoyle. Its shadow subsumed all of Fort Tryon Park. The cyclopean eye zeroed in on Rhianna...
A strange calm descended over th
e archeology student. She had passed the point of terror. Death awaited her.
There was one hope left. She had to somehow reach the man trapped deep inside the monster. Her voice was imploring as she addressed the former king of Kirkfall. “Artan, you can't let this happen. You're the only one who can stop it!”
Artan snarled and cast a withering look in her direction. A mere beast now.
Something snapped in Rhianna. Her voice exploded with a renewed strength that surprised her. This wasn’t just about her. The stakes had become exponentially higher and the whole world was being threatened by Balor’s invasion force.
“Goddamnit, Artan, Cael murdered your wife and son! The necklace around your neck belonged to Samara. Don't you remember how much you loved her?”
Balor leaned over Rhianna. Rain pelted the towering monster, lightning framing his massive brow.
Rhianna pressed on, the words coming faster now.
“You're not a monster, Artan! You're a man!”
Balor’s immense wings unfurled.
“You're the king of Kirkfall!”
The demon’s muscles rippled.
“Husband of Samara...”
Its giant maw opened wide, teeth glittering in the flashing electrical storm.
“Father of Cian and Shair!”
A ten-foot-long ridged, fissured tongue shot out of the giant gargoyle’s mouth. It hovered in the air, a serpent preparing to attack, writhing with a will of its own.
The tongue whipped toward the helpless woman strapped to the stone altar below. The serrated tip buried itself in her chest with a wet sound and all thoughts left Rhianna’s mind. Her world was reduced to pain.
The monster's tongue flooded with blood, turning crimson as it drained Rhianna. Artan still followed the sacrifice with seeming indifference.
Balor’s monstrous skin swelled, growing less rocklike as the evil god fed on Rhianna. Stone became flesh.
Artan observed the dark spectacle, his focus turning to Rhianna;s face, red hair against ivory skin. Zeroing in on Rhianna's agony-stricken eyes, there was a sudden flicker in his inhuman expression.
You’re the king of Kirkfall.
Rhianna’s words echoed through the blackness of his mind. A single beacon pointing to a way out of the darkness. Guiding him toward the light.
“Husband of Samara…”
A flash of an image.
Another woman. Another sacrifice.
“Father of Cian and Shair.”
Something stirred inside the gargoyle. The memories came unbidden, a furious stream of images that surged from the depths of his soul, shattering the dark spell of Samhain.
A clawed hand closed around the necklace that he still wore around his massive gargoyle neck. Humanity edged back into his craggy features.
The king of Kirkfall had returned!
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CAEL WAS TOO entranced with what was happening to notice the change in his younger brother. His full attention was fixed on Balor as he drained Rhianna. The giant statue now glistened with life!
The warrior-druid sensed movement behind him. He whirled, but it was too late. Artan slammed into Cael, sending him flying. The blow achieved the desired result — Cael dropped the Blade of Kings. It hit the rain-soaked ground and within seconds, Artan had scooped up the sword, the blade almost leaping into his outstretched hand. He spun toward the altar...
And with one powerful swing, he severed Balor's tongue! Blood spurted from the severed protuberance. A roar of unbridled agony reverberated as one end of the tongue landed on the ground in a geyser of blood. It thrashed to and fro in the rainy night.
The black sword slashed as Artan cut Rhianna's restraints and he pulled her off the altar. She was barely able to stand.
Above them, the tentacle-like tongue healed itself, the bloody wound closing. Balor’s teeth gleamed as the regenerated tongue lashed out at Rhianna with the power and speed of a cracking bullwhip.
Artan responded with superhuman speed. He spun toward Rhianna and reared back his wings, using them to shield Rhianna. The demon’s serpent tongue punched through the flesh of Artan’s membranous wing and penetrated his massive gargoyle chest. It punctured Artan’s pectoral muscle and found the dark gargoyle blood pumping underneath.
Artan bellowed and let go of the Blade of Kings, body wracked with pain.
Cael witnessed the attack with a look of alarm.
“NOO!!”
The warning came too late as Balor's tongue went from red to black, flush with Artan’s gargoyle life force.
Balor was draining Artan.
And it was initiating a strange reverse transformation.
Artan’s gargoyle features collapsed and grew human once more. His scaly hide was replaced with pink skin. Wings were sucked back into his shoulder blades.
Gone was the gargoyle. In its place stood the king.
Balor had fed on the dark blood of the Otherworld. The monster’s lips drew back and that tentacle-tongue whipped back into its maw.
Artan collapsed to the muddy ground, completely spent. Human now but hovering on the brink of death.
Cael's now dread-filled gaze honed in on the giant gargoyle towering above them, knowing all too well that Balor had fed on the wrong life force. Balor looked more lifelike than ever, but that was about to change. Without warning, the features of the Lord of the Otherworld contorted with pain.
Something was terribly wrong.
Cracks formed and zigzagged over the giant’s body. Loud cracks sounded as limbs and wings separated from his torso.
The demon was falling apart, crumbling all over the park. As the pieces plummeted to earth they reverted back to slabs of stone. Titanic rocks tumbled over the park grounds.
A scream of dismay erupted from Cael's throat. It was the cry of defeat.
Artan took in the unfolding scene, mesmerized by what his gargoyle blood had set in motion. He had won the battle but not the war as...
SPLASH! A puddle erupted next to Artan as Cael landed beside the restored king. The gargoyle leered down at his younger brother, voice bristling with hatred.
“You think you can best me?!”
Artan took a step back, never losing sight of Cael. The final battle awaited, a contest of man and beast.
Cael's claws swiped at him. The impact of the blow spun Artan around and he hit the ground in spray of mud and rainwater.
Cael’s features flashed with madness as he closed in.
“How do you abide this place? Everything and everyone you ever cared for have been gone for centuries. Your world is nothing but dust. Why fight to save it?”
Lightning bathed Cael in its sickly glow as he launched himself at Artan...
The former king of Kirkfall, existing on pure adrenaline, rolled away as Cael slammed into the ground where his head had been seconds earlier. Artan scrambled back to his feet, body covered in mud.
Cael roared in frustration.
“I took Samara from you, and once I finish with you, I will kill this one, too!”
Artan took in his surroundings...
The stone head lay right behind him… three feet away.
Rhianna was crouched behind the altar… about fifteen feet away.
And sticking from the muddy ground beside Rhianna was the Blade of Kings.
A look passed between Artan and Rhianna. Her face filled with understanding and she turned toward the blade.
She knew what to do.
Rhianna jumped into motion. Her fingers closed around the pommel and she liberated the sword from the mud. Tapping into a strength she didn’t realize she possessed, she flung the blade toward Artan...
The sword spun end over end as it arced over the altar. It thudded into the ground near Artan. The hilt vibrated from the impact.
Meanwhile, Cael was closing in. Almost upon him…
Summoning his last bit of energy, Artan dove for the sword.
His fingers closed around the hilt and pulled.
“This is for Samara!”
Artan brought up the sword in one smooth, powerful motion and drove the Blade of Kings into the fast-approaching monster.
Cael roared with agony as steel punched through his natural armor.
Artan withdrew the sword with a splash of black blood, a wild, crazed look on his face. This was the moment he had dreamt about for so long. He swung back the sword for the next blow.
“This is for my son...”
Artan delivered a diagonal slash that ran the length of Cael’s face and shattered the Eye of Balor. History was repeating itself with a twist. The surface of the warrior-druid’s face had been nearly carved in two. Cracks ran through the jewel sitting inside Cael’s ruined eye-socket but Artan had tempered the blow, making sure the jewel did not shatter on impact. Before the jewel could break apart and Cael reverted to stone again, a final task remained.
“And this is for Kirkfall!”
Artan’s flashing blade found Cael’s neck and physics took care of the rest. Steel slashed through hide, bone and sinew until the gargoyle’s head was separated from its body and flew through the air. A stunned expression was etched on Cael’s destroyed features.
In midflight, the Eye of Balor shattered inside the eye-socket. Cael’s head turned to stone, slammed into the altar and exploded into a thousand fragments.
At the same time, the gargoyles circling the park high above turned back into statues and rained down on Fort Tryon Park. Artan snatched Rhianna's hand, pushing her against the altar, and used his body to protect her as...
A hail of stone figures pelted the ground like bombs for what seemed like forever. Finally there was silence.
Artan peered up from the altar, the Blade of Kings still clenched in his hand, now slick with the blood of his slain enemy. A surreal and grotesquely beautiful graveyard of stone gargoyles awaited him.
It was over. Artan had won, regaining his humanity in the process. A new world awaited the medieval warrior.
The rain had eased and was now turning into a steady drizzle. Artan eyed Rhianna and smiled. For the first time in centuries, he was truly happy.
Gargoyle Knight: A Dark Urban Fantasy Page 15
