Oliver wriggled the ruff of rock fur behind his ears, as if he were trying to mimic the movement of my earrings. Laughing at his antics, I completely missed seeing the bundle of elemental energy barreling toward me. The outer air layer hit me like a pillow upside the head, then bounced back and expanded into an oval sheet of fire held together with traces of air and water. Heat radiated from it, and I retreated a step when the golden and red flames reshaped into the perfect likeness of a man’s face. He scowled, his bright eyes blazing straight into mine.
“Mika Stillwater,” he snapped. “Your services are required on an urgent matter. Come at once.”
Seeing the fiery face move was disconcerting enough; hearing the burning mouth bark my name chased a thrill of alarm down my spine. I clutched the handle of my bag tighter and shifted another step back. The disembodied flaming head followed.
I’d seen long-distance projections sent with such precision before, but only as invitations to special events. Given the tension in the man’s face, he wasn’t summoning me to a social gathering.
I opened my mouth to respond, but he looked to the side at something only he could see, then back at me. This time his gaze rested beyond my shoulder, and I realized it was a captured message, not a projection. I also realized I knew him.
“Your specialty is needed,” he growled. The sphere collapsed into an arrow of pure flame. It darted away from me, then spun and pointed left down a side street. It held that position, quivering in place.
“Wasn’t that—”
“Full-spectrum guard Velasquez,” I said, finishing Oliver’s question. The most powerful fire elemental I’d ever met, I added silently. You didn’t make it into the ranks of the Federal Pentagon Defense, the country’s most elite law enforcement organization, unless you were an FSPP or nearly so. I’d had the good fortune to meet the local FPD full-five squad when I’d rescued Oliver and his siblings, but I hadn’t expected to encounter the specialized team again, let alone receive a personal summons from the burly fire elemental.
Velasquez’s words sank past my surprise. The only reason he would need me was if a gargoyle was in trouble.
“We need to hurry,” I said, yanking my backpack’s straps securely over both arms.
“Someone needs us!” Oliver shouted gleefully.
The moment I lurched into motion, the flaming arrow moved. As if attached to me by a stiff tether, it kept exactly the same distance between us even as I picked up my pace to a run. Oliver loped like an enormous inchworm ahead of me, his back arching and straightening with each stride, and he unfurled his wings for short glides to increase his speed.
Watching his increasingly long leaps, I was struck by a feeling of déjà vu. It’d been a race through the streets after a baby gargoyle that had altered the course of my life. Until that moment, I’d been a rather typical earth elemental, with a stable job and a life spent mostly behind a worktable. These days, I did a lot more rushing about, usually racing toward injured gargoyles, and I didn’t think I’d ever get used to this nauseating jolt of adrenaline.
Between Oliver’s stone feet pounding on the cobblestones, my heavy steps, and the clatter of seed crystals knocking together in my bag, we made enough racket to sound like a rampaging minotaur. People scurried out of our way and gawked from the edges of the road. Several waved and pointed, calling out encouragement. A few actually knew my name.
Our guiding arrow took us through downtown, winding along the least crowded roads. We pounded down wide sidewalks and through narrow alleys, and every time the arrow darted out of sight, I prayed it had stopped just around the corner so I could rest. My lungs and legs burned, and the heavy sack pummeled bruises into my lower back.
I zigzagged past a tavern and a haberdashery, before the narrow street opened into Focal Park. Or it should have. I stumbled to a halt. A massive blue-green ward twice as tall as the nearest building cordoned off the mile-long public park. As far as I could see up and down the street, emergency personnel held focal points of the shimmering ward at regular intervals. I braced my hands on my knees, sucking in oxygen. I’d never seen a ward that huge. It looked like it was designed to keep out an invading army.
And Velasquez’s fiery arrow pointed straight at it.
A crowd of people loitered outside the park’s earth entrance, where guards blockaded the pathway to a tunnel hidden behind the ward. Most of the people must have been herded from the park, judging by the number of blankets, picnic baskets, and various sports equipment they held. Questions rumbled through the displaced citizens, but I didn’t hear any answers.
Together Oliver and I wormed through the crowd, and as people noticed Oliver, they cleared a path.
“Is there a sick gargoyle in the park?” someone shouted.
“I’ve heard gargoyles go berserk. Is that what happened?” another person asked.
I shook my head at the absurd question, but I couldn’t take my eyes from the towering ward. What was Velasquez involving me in?
A woman burst through the crowd and grabbed my arm, and I yelped before recognizing Kylie.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the burning arrow hovering just this side of the ward. It’d received some nervous looks from the crowd and a few from the guards, too.
“Don’t scare me like that,” I said. “It’s a summons from Velasquez.” Kylie knew who the fire elemental was without me needing to remind her. She’d been there when the full-five squad had carted away the man who’d kidnapped Oliver and his siblings. Since then, she’d followed the squad more than once for a story. In fact . . . “Was your rumor scout about the captain?”
Flushing, Kylie crossed her arms defensively. “Yes.”
My stomach sank. Kylie had a standing rumor scout patrolling for mention of Captain Grant Monaghan, the air elemental in charge of Velasquez’s squad. If the captain was here, the whole squad probably was, which meant the danger level of whatever I was rushing toward was far greater than a sick gargoyle. The ward more than confirmed it.
“What did he say?” Kylie asked.
“He needs me.”
Kylie’s eyebrows shot upward. “That’s what Mr. Gruffy-Pants himself said?”
“Basically.” My footsteps had slowed while I talked, and Oliver butted my palm with a soft whine. The same urgency hummed in my veins, but I couldn’t have Kylie following us into danger.
“Wait here,” I told Kylie. “I’ll tell you everything later. It’ll be an exclusive.” I winked, then spun toward the tunnel entrance.
“Really? You thought that’d work?” Kylie fell into step on the other side of Oliver. “The people have a right to know what’s going on in there, and if Grant is in there, I need to make sure he—ah, that the squad—is okay and . . . acting in the best interest of the citizens. A government that keeps secrets from the people is a corrupt government.”
Her slipup was more telling than her ongoing protests about democracy and the balancing power of the press.
“Fine,” I hissed as we approached the guards posted at the park entrance. The burning arrow hadn’t moved from where it pressed an inch away from the ward, crushing my meager hope that Velasquez stood on this side of the ward.
“The park is closed,” a tall woman in uniform said.
“I see that,” I said, and Kylie snorted, then turned the sound into a cough. The guard scowled at us both. “I was summoned by FPD Fire Elemental Velasquez.” I pointed to the arrow. “I’m a gargoyle healer, and he said I’m needed.” I added a point toward Oliver, in case she’d missed the presence of the excited stone dragon who pranced between Kylie and me.
“And I’m her assistant,” Kylie said. I wanted to protest, but I knew how much her career meant to her, and there was obviously a story on the other side of this magical curtain. Plus I was beginning to suspect her crush on Captain Monaghan might have developed into something more, so I kept my mouth shut and tried not to fidget.
The guard looped a bubble of air around the burning arrow an
d yanked it to us. She probed the elemental strands, and the message unfurled again. Velasquez’s hard expression glared at the guard this time as he called me to his side without a single please or an ounce of deference in his tone.
When the message reverted to an arrow of flame, the guard released it and gestured for her companions to let us pass. Oliver trundled ahead with Kylie close beside him, but my footsteps lagged. As long as I remained on this side of the ward, I was safe.
But a gargoyle wasn’t.
I hurried to catch up with Kylie and Oliver.
* * *
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Acknowledgments
When I sat down to write Magic of the Gargoyles, I thought it would be a ten-page short story, sort of a palate cleanser between writing two novels. Instead, it grew into a tiny novel of its own, in a world ripe for adventure. The structure of a short story and a novella vary greatly, and this book went through many rewrites, left a lot of text on the editing room floor, and treated a few characters to Play-Doh-like remolding makeovers. Major alterations like these can blind me to smaller problems, so thank you to the many great authors at the Online Writing Workshop for Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror for giving me so much valuable feedback. Also, thank you to my fantastic beta readers, Deb, Debbie, and Sara B., for your eagle eyes and helpful suggestions. Finally, thank you to Carrie Andrews and Amanda Zeier for giving the story its final editing polish.
I am endlessly grateful to my family for all your support. I know this story veered into darker territory than you prefer, Mom, but you read it anyway. At a time when I’d become numb to the story during rewrites, your response to the gargoyles’ torture reminded me that greater evil doesn’t always make a greater story. The rewrites were so much better because of it; thank you! Sara E., you are officially my most valiant beta reader; thank you for your invaluable feedback, as a reader and a sister. Is it too soon to ask if you’re ready to read the next twelve iterations of my WIP?
Finally, Cody, thank you for your infinite patience, the time and space to write, and your perpetual support. You’re a shining example for writers’ spouses everywhere.
About Rebecca Chastain
REBECCA CHASTAIN is the USA Today bestselling author of the Madison Fox urban fantasy series and the Gargoyle Guardian Chronicles fantasy trilogy, among other works. Inside her novels, you’ll find spellbinding adventures packed with supernatural creatures, thrilling action, heartwarming characters (human and otherwise), and more than a little humor. She lives in Northern California with her wonderful husband and three bossy cats.
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