by Vi Lily
He was exhausted. The flight across the great sea wore him out, then searching the land for the cacao the lass wanted took much longer than he anticipated. The native peoples in the area Gwen had mentioned had never seen a gargoyle, and they had promptly declared him a god, no matter how much he had protested. He'd spent a good amount of time telling them about the true Creator.
After two days, he gave up on finding the cacao and made the decision to return to the lass's time in order to procure the "chocolate" Gwen had so dreamily described to him.
Avisha would do anything to make his mate happy—even if she herself had no idea she even was his mate—and he desperately hoped she at least appreciated his efforts to get the chocolate.
Of course, he couldn't tell her about all those efforts. For one, it would sound like he was trying to get attention for them. Which he was, but he didn't want her to know that. He snorted to himself. He was starting to sound like a fresh-faced lad trying to woo the village beauty.
As he stretched his wings and cracked his neck, he grimaced. He still had a bit of a flight ahead of him before he returned to his fortress. And to his mate.
Once in the air, his thoughts drifted back to the past few days. It had been frustrating, to be sure. First the failure with the cacao and the primitive people wishing to deify him. Then, when he returned to the twenty-first century, he knew that he would not be able to just walk into a marketplace and purchase what he wished. For one thing, he had no idea where items were purchased in that particular time; for another, regardless of the time period, he knew gargoyles didn't just roam freely.
So, he'd had to search for another Fallen Moral for help.
Since he didn't want to take the chance of being seen while flying, he'd been relegated to the dark forests. Even with the ability to call to his brothers through his inner spirit, it had taken nearly a full day to locate another Moral.
His old brother, Yehoash, was surprised to see him, to say the least. Avisha had sent out the call and was led to the wolf shifter in the forest not far from his fortress ruins. Yehoash had been chopping wood beside a small cottage when Avisha had stepped out of the shadow.
Yehoash had laughed and rushed toward him for an embrace. "I heard the call, but I didn't bother to answer. I figured one o' the others would have gone to you, brother, but if I had ken it was you callin', I would have been there in a blink."
Yehoash had invited him inside and then it was Avisha's turn to be surprised: Yehoash had not only mated with a human female, but he'd also fathered two children. And neither his mate nor the children were surprised to see a gargoyle. Or afraid.
Avisha had no idea the Fallen Moral could procreate. There had been the speculation that, had a Moral and a human mated, the children would be abnormal, such as the giants of yore. But Yehoash's adorable brood looked and acted normal in every way.
He started to have some hope for a future with Gwen.
Yehoash hadn't been able to help him with the chocolate procurement, but he had been helpful with information. It seemed that the men who had been after Gwen and Carlie had been combing the woods surrounding the fortress. Yehoash had spied on a few of them and overheard them saying that "Smythe won't stop until they're found."
His brother had then told him that with the methods the modern men had, it was only a matter of time before they found them.
It made Avisha very thankful his girls were safely hidden in the sixth century.
Since the soldiers were still in the area, Yehoash understandably didn't want to leave his family alone in the woods. Instead, he'd directed Avisha to the village of Dundonnell, where their brother, Bogdan, chose to live.
Avisha was frankly surprised to discover that several of his brethren had stayed within a short distance of the fortress. In times past when it had been his land, he'd always welcomed any of the Fallen Moral who'd wished to make their home there. None had ever taken him up on it.
Apparently, they'd waited until the twenty-first century to accept the invitation.
Bogdan was obviously shocked and surprised to see him, but he seemed to be happy too. He had always been the easiest going of his Moral brothers, but the "future Bogdan" was a bit moodier than Avisha remembered…restless. Just as he himself had been before he'd "parked his butt on a rock," as Gwen would say.
Thankfully, though, Bogdan was happy to do as Avisha asked, after teasing him for a long time over going to such lengths just to please a lass. Avisha had told him that she wasn't just "any lass," but was his mate.
He'd explained then how he had used time travel to keep the girls safe. When he told Bogdan that his mate was being pursued by a group known as DEE, like Yehoash, Bogdan had confirmed the far-reach of the group, and the fact that they had the latest technology at their disposal.
Avisha had asked what "technology" was, but Bogdan had laughed again and said it would take a month to explain. But he had been able to give more information than Yehoash had—it seemed the powerful global company was run by the Fallen Immoral.
Once again, he was thankful Gwen and Carlie were safe.
Bogdan said they would have to wait until the next day when the shops in town were opened. He'd laughed when Avisha tried to give him coins.
"Nowadays, trying to buy with gold will draw the authorities to you," he'd said as he pointed to the coins in Avisha's hand. He'd then showed him some strange parchment strips that had pictures drawn on them.
"This is what we use for currency now," Bogdan had informed him. "And it'll be on me, brother. I have plenty more where this came from." He'd snorted. "As with all of our brothers, I've had many lifetimes to accumulate wealth."
They'd spent the night flying over the land, surveying the landscape, watching for any of the Fallen Immoral who might be wreaking havoc. After spending fifteen centuries with his "butt parked," Avisha admittedly missed the duty he'd been given…the duty that he'd turned his back on.
He had finally asked the Creator for forgiveness that night.
He'd also asked his brother for his forgiveness, for leaving him and the other brothers to the guardian duty. Bogdan had given forgiveness, without thought. He had even admitted that the reason he and Yehoash stayed so close to the fortress was that they'd made an oath to the Creator to keep an eye on Avisha's inanimate form. Avisha had told him they were no longer bound by that oath, but Bogdan had just laughed.
"Been here so long, brother, I wouldn't know where else to be."
By mid-morning, Bogdan had changed to human form and left Avisha in the copse, so he could run the errand Avisha had tasked him with. Within a short time, Bogdan was back, a brown sack in hand.
Avisha had taken the bag from his brother and looked inside. It was full of this "chocolate" that Gwen had so lovingly described. There were many different colorful wrappers and he hoped she would be happy with the variety.
He'd put his nose to the bag and sniffed. The smell of the confection wafted up his nostrils and while his mouth watered, his mind was filled with images of silk and honey. Without even tasting the treat, he understood why Gwen was so endeared with it. The scent on his tongue was utterly delicious. He closed the bag and thanked his brother.
"I hope she's worth the effort you've gone to, brother," Bogdan has said with a laugh. "And don't stay away for so long." Bogdan gave him hard clap to the shoulder.
"You have been missed."
Avisha had been shocked at his brother's words; he didn't think any of his brethren had even noticed his absence, other than having to cover his guardian assignment.
Avisha shook his thoughts along with his body. The air was cold, so cold that even his thick skin wasn't impervious to the bite. Winter was upon the land and the cold, wet air coming from the lochs below was adding to his misery.
Flying over village after village, he knew that he soon would be at the boundary of his lands. The fire that would be awaiting him in his hearth to warm his bones beckoned.
As did the warmth of Gwen's smile.
My girls!
Chapter 10
I 'M NOT afraid…I'm pissed. They're gonna pay, these jerks, this mob of insane medieval morons, who have dared to invade my home. Okay, it's not my home, exactly, but I'm living here and that makes it mine for now, right?
The ten guys that managed to get inside by climbing the sheer cliff on the back side of the fortress—which I have to admit is really impressive—are dragging me up the slick stairs. I'm not even fighting them, because I want to get close enough for my little sister to hear me.
Just a few more feet, and then I'm going to call out our special word, the one that tells her to go find a hidey hole and to not come out until I give her the other special word.
Three more feet…two…one…
"Maisy!" I yell, the name of her favorite fairy doll. One of the men holding me jerks my arm, making me slip. I start to fall and think I'm going to yank the jerk down with me, but the guy behind me puts his hand on my back to steady me.
"What are ye bletherin' aboot?" the guy holding my arm growls. I just ignore him.
It's dark on the stairs, since one of the men behind us is holding the torch and the light isn't enough for our whole group. But we get close enough to see the top of the stairs that I can see that Carlie is nowhere around.
Thank God.
I wonder where she's hiding. One thing my sister is good at, it's making herself invisible. I've taught her well. Had to.
So now that I know she's safe, the fear of what these guys have planned for me sinks in, so I decide I'm gonna open a can of whoop ass on them. I figure I don't have anything to lose…"Maurice" already called me a witch, so I figure I'll be a "Gwenbecue" soon.
Might as well go out with a fight.
I'm just going to assume at this point that I now have super strength. Yeah, picking up the big beam like it was a broom and then carrying the heavy water buckets by myself might have been due to an adrenaline rush, but I figure if it was, then I should have plenty of that go-juice running through my system now.
My pounding heart is a pretty good indicator of that.
Because of the narrow stairs, I only have one guy holding me. There are two in front of us leading the way and the other seven are following behind. Since I'm not giving them any problems—and probably because I'm just a "wee lass"—I figure they're not going to worry too much about me trying to escape.
The minute we reach the top of the stairs, I pretend to trip and fall forward and when the guy holding me jerks my arm to catch me, I elbow him as hard as I can in the family jewels. While he's doubled over, I spin and shove him into the guys behind him.
As the goon with the throbbing nuts goes flying back into the others, it's like watching Bowling With Boneheads as they all tumble down the stairs and since the stairs are slick, they fall all the way down.
Strike!
Of course, it's just a matter of seconds before the two guys who were in front grab me.
Thanks to all the years of training in martial arts, plus the awesome new strength thing, it doesn't take any effort at all to send those guys crashing down after their buddies. Unfortunately, though, one of them grabs my shirt as he's slipping backwards and pulls me with him.
There's no telling how long I've been out. My head is pounding once again, and I groan. I'd just gotten rid of the headache from the last head injury. I wonder just how many times I can knock myself out before I don't wake up at all.
I'm sprawled on the stairs and I carefully move each limb, testing for breaks. Thankfully, other than the headache and some really sore muscles, I seem to be uninjured. I lift my head up and look around, then frown as wetness drips into my eyes. I reach up and run my fingers over it, pretty sure it's blood, but it's too dark to see.
I don't see anyone else around me, but again, it's dark. At this point, I'm going to have to assume that the men tumbled all the way down to the bottom and someone must have dropped the torch. Hopefully they're all incapacitated. Dead or otherwise.
Good. Serves them right, I think, and then for good measure, I call down to them, telling them what I was just thinking.
"Hope you're all dead, you medieval cretins!"
No one answers.
But now I need to find my sister. I turn so I can get up on my hands and knees, and I almost throw up at the pain that shoots through my skull. I swallow the bile back down, then push myself to my feet. It takes a few tries as I slip on the slick steps, and I curse more than once when I whack my shins on the edges of the steps, but I finally get my feet under me and climb back up to the top of the stairs.
I make a note to ask Avisha if we can put a handrailing on the stairs.
I'm pretty surprised by how far I fell…at least a good flight of stairs' worth. It's a miracle I didn't break my neck, or something else.
As soon as I get into the kitchen, I start yelling our "safe words," the words that tell Carlie it's safe to come out.
"Fairies fart flowers!"
It's silly, I know, but it's a great tension reliever after the stress of having to hide and be quiet. It always makes Carlie giggle and that makes me happy.
But I don't hear any giggling. I run out into the foyer and notice that the door is still intact. Thankfully, the beam is still in place. I also notice there isn't any more pounding on the door. Maybe the mob gave up. Doubtful, but one can always hope.
The fortress seems too quiet. It's eerie. I panic and start running from room to room yelling about farting fairies, but no Carlie. I then run up to the second floor and run up and down the hall yelling. But then I have the thought that she might have gone back up to Avisha's bedroom where the others were.
It's not what I've taught her to do—when I yell "Maisy" she's supposed to immediately crawl into whatever little place she can find and to be as quiet as a mouse. But we've never been around other people before, so maybe she thought it would be okay to "hide" with the others.
I take the steps two and three at a time, my heart pounding in time with my head. It's not pounding from the exertion—I could run up and down the seven flights fifty times before I even got winded. But the fear for my sister is making my body react violently.
I had felt fear before at the idea of the Maurice mob burning me for a witch, but that was nothing compared to the terror I feel now that I can't find my her.
When I burst into the room, I notice that it's empty. Except for the butcher, who is lying by the window with an arrow in his throat, his eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.
I then I start screaming Carlie's name and our safe words.
She doesn't come out, so I run to the window and look out. The grease fire is still burning, which tells me I wasn't out that long. But the mob is gone. I don't see them anywhere. Considering I saw them coming toward us from miles away, I know they didn't go back the way they came, because I'm sure I'd be able to see them.
My brain doesn't even register how weird it is that I'm all alone in the fortress as I run screaming up and down the hallways. My voice is echoing back at me from the stone walls and I know that if Carlie is anywhere in the place, she would have heard me by now. The place is huge, but as far as fortresses go, it really isn't that big…only twelve bedrooms.
I stop in the foyer and spin around wildly. I can't even think straight, I'm so freaked out.
It occurs to me then that I need to go look for Carlie outside. Maybe she ran to the stables. I know it's crazy to think that she would have done that, but she loves the horses and Aonghus was always letting her feed them apples. Maybe she went through the kitchen and out the back door.
I grab that huge beam and yank it out of the brackets, then just toss it to the side, where it slides over the stone floor and slams into the wall near the great hall. Something falls and m
akes a big rattle, but I don't care. I don't even bother to close the door when I run outside.
The fire is still burning really high, but I don't even care as I run right through it. Of course, then I have to smack at my legs where my jeans caught fire, but I never slow down for a second.
When I fly through the stable doors, I start yelling the safe words. Of course, this startles the poor horses who are in there. I can sense their fear—yeah, I'm empathic with animals too—but I don't have time to calm them. I just tell them it's okay and then I run back out, with no real destination in mind.
I don't want to, but I have to admit that my sister is gone, most likely taken by those medieval a-holes. In fact, everyone is gone and other than the horses and the barn cat, I'm all alone.
My heart hurts and I scream in frustration when I think about how for three years I've kept her safe, kept her hidden and out of the hands of those who would hurt her, despite the latest and greatest technology they used to track us.
I've had to beat the crap out of DEE-men who'd managed to catch up to us, and I'm pretty sure I killed one of them when I stabbed him in the chest. I've kept my little sister safe, gone to ridiculous lengths to hide her and gladly risked my own life to keep her from getting captured.
Yet now, in a day and age where they've never heard of such advanced technologies as indoor plumbing or fly swatters, and they believe a head cold is caused by an evil spirit, I managed to let her get caught.
There's no way of knowing where they could have taken Carlie. No way to find her. Hell, I'm not even sure where we are. The fortress is in the middle of nowhere in both times. When we were in the twenty-first century, the last town we'd come to had been Ullapool, and I have no idea if that town even exists now.
But even if it does, after leaving Ullapool Carlie and I did so much running through meadows and forests, over mountains and valleys, that I have no idea where it was that we'd ended up when the DEE-men caught up to us…near Avisha's fortress is all I know.
