Stone

by Linda Mooney

  But the idol’s call to him was inescapable. He shoved his hand into the hole and dragged out several pieces of what appeared to be paper…

  And a black bag.

  Garenth turned to leave when the man used his weapon again. It impacted against his upper arm and sent shockwaves through him. There was pain. Real pain. His fingers went numb, and the bag fell onto the floor.

  The man aimed his strange sword at Garenth’s legs. It was clear the man didn’t want to kill him, only incapacitate him. To wound him to prevent him from leaving with the vial. To debilitate him long enough to take him down into another dark dungeon and put more chains on him.

  Garenth realized he could either take out the man, or take off.

  Scooping up the bag with his other hand, he ran for the broken wall and threw himself out into the air. He heard another popping sound, and he tensed, waiting for the fire to slice into him. Something struck the back of his calf, but that pain was minimal.

  Giving a hard stroke of his wings, he flew off into the night, clutching the black bag to his chest.

  Chapter 21

  Broken

  The mother idol was silent as Garenth winged away from the building, but he knew it was because he had secured her. She was content to be back in his possession, yet for some reason that didn’t reassure him.

  He hurt. With every stroke of flight, the pain increased, making it increasingly difficult to keep flying. The wound in his side felt hot. It was becoming difficult to focus. Worse, he couldn’t use his right arm.

  Minbar told him he wouldn’t die as long as he retained possession of the idol. But he had lost it, and now he believed he was being punished for that transgression. He would have to suffer to pay for his disobedience before Petbe would allow him to resume his non-human state, if he regained it. I may be too late. I may have to remain this way…forever?

  Garenth breathed in the crisp air. This high up it smelled not of the city and its noxious odors, but it was clean. Pure. If he had to remain in this form, awake for all eternity…

  Agony lanced through him. He stuttered, his wings halting in mid-stroke. He started to drop as his body seized up on him. Alarm and fear spiked as he struggled to resume lost altitude.

  Blinking, he searched around for someplace to land, but nothing looked familiar. The obelisks appeared to have changed, both in shape and location.

  Coasting downward, he circled and crashed onto the nearest roof. He was lost. He knew it and had to admit it. Crawling toward the edge, he tried to stand but his leg almost went out from under him. Overwhelmed by a bright spear of pain, he dropped onto his knees, still pressing the precious black bag to his chest.

  He knew he’d been wounded, but now he was beginning to wonder if his injuries were life-threatening. Were they so intense that the mother idol couldn’t save him? Or was she condemning him to die because he’d allowed her to be taken from him?

  He rubbed his forehead. It was getting harder and harder to think. His thoughts were growing confused. His logic was becoming tangled and twisted, and more convoluted by the moment.

  A metal bird fluttered overhead, drawing his attention. At the sight of it, he realized he was flying around aimlessly. He had the mother idol back in his possession, but now what? What should he do now? He knew he hadn’t thought past acquiring the vial. He hadn’t made any plans beyond regaining it. It was time he did.

  His first impulse was to return to his native lands across the seas, but that wasn’t feasible. Not now, anyway. Not while his body continued to be wracked with pain. These next few hours would determine whether or not he would completely regain all of his humanity, or if he would revert into his stone self again. If he became fully human, there would be no way he could fly back to his homeland. And it was too dangerous to start on his journey and risk losing his power of flight while he was over the seas.

  He struggled to get to his feet when something warm ran down his side and over his arm. In the dim light coming from below, he stared at the dark fluid oozing over his stone exterior.

  Blood. He was bleeding.

  “What do I do?” he murmured.

  He was answered as an image, a visage, appeared in his mind. A face. A beautiful face with a heart-tugging smile and dark eyes that had learned to look past the outer monstrosity of his own appearance.

  Brielle. He had to return to Brielle. She would be able to help him. She would take him in and allow him to recover until he could figure out what to do next.

  Lifting his face to the heavens, Garenth opened himself to the winds. Holding the black bag to his chest, he prayed to Petbe for guidance.

  Something nudged him, urging him to turn around. He obeyed, and found himself staring across a wide expanse where the waters of a river sparkled under Khonsu’s light. Garenth straightened and looked to his left. Yes, that tower. And to his right, that obelisk with the glowing red beacon on top. He knew where he was. He knew in which direction lay Brielle’s home. He was no longer lost.

  Giving a prayer of thanks, he leaped over the edge of the roof and gritted his teeth as he fought the pain to go to her.

  *

  She still felt groggy when she awoke. The nap hadn’t revived her. If anything, she felt more out of it and less inclined to get up.

  Brielle glanced around the dark room. Not seeing a familiar figure on the fire escape landing, she rolled over in bed to glance at her alarm clock.

  8:29

  Damn. She’d been out of it for hours.

  Her first inclination was to go ahead and get her bath, and go straight back to bed. Getting to her feet, she went into the bathroom to relieve herself, when she was hit with an intense thirst. She padded into the kitchen and withdrew the quart of milk from her fridge to drink straight out of the carton. In the back of her mind she imagined what her mother would have said if the woman caught her pulling such a stunt. She smiled as she imagined what she would have told her.

  “Hey, it’s my apartment, my rules. I’ll use a glass at your place, but here I don’t feel like needlessly dirtying one just for a few swallows.”

  A loud noise interrupted her reverie. Brielle froze, unsure if she’d imagined it.

  A definite scraping sound came from the bedroom. No, from the fire escape.

  Setting the milk on the bar, she made her way over to where she’d tossed her purse on the side table near the front door and withdrew her cell phone. Grabbing her umbrella from where she kept it propped in the corner, she held it out in front of her and entered her bedroom. She hoped it was Garenth on the landing. But in the event some asshole was trying to get into her apartment via that route, he’d find himself on the stabby end of her bumbershoot while, at the same time, she’d be dialing 9-1-1.

  Someone was definitely on her fire escape. A dark shadow blocked the moonlight. There was a grunt, and the figure collapsed next to her window. She paused beside the bed and debated whether or not to turn on the lamp on the nightstand, when a voice faintly whispered.

  “Brielle.”

  Garenth.

  Throwing the phone and umbrella on the bed, she rushed to the window to find him bent over on the landing.

  “Garenth? What’s wrong?” She remembered he wouldn’t understand what she was saying, but she hoped he could hear the concern in her voice.

  She placed an arm across his shoulders to help him to his feet, when her hand encountered something wet and warm. Lifting her fingers to her face, she smelled the unmistakable metallic whang. “Oh my God! You’re bleeding! You’re hurt!” She flung her arms around him and tugged. “Come on. Get inside. How badly are you hurt?”

  With a little more cajoling, she managed to get him to step over the transom and into the bedroom. She guided him over to the bed where he half-sat, half-laid. It wasn’t until after she pulled down the window and drew the shade that she turned on the lamp.

  Brielle gasped in horror to see bright red streaks of blood flowing down his arm and leg. A wide swath of smeared blood covered hi
s side, hip, and stomach. “Oh dear God, Garenth!” Snatching up her phone, she threw the umbrella to the side of the room and opened up the translation app. “What happened? Why are you bleeding? Stay right here.” She laid the phone on the bed beside him and rushed into the bathroom for towels and a wet washrag. When she returned, she saw him holding out a bag. It took her a second to realize what it was.

  “Mother idol,” the app intoned.

  Stunned, she took the bag but didn’t open it. Laying it on the nightstand, she proceeded to try and staunch the flow of blood coming from a hole in his right bicep and a nasty gash running across his ribcage. Garenth flinched and hissed at her touch but didn’t try to stop her.

  “Where else were you shot?”

  “Shot.”

  “Yes. You were shot with a gun. These are bullet wounds, Garenth.” Her mind reeled. He needed immediate medical care, but taking him to a hospital was out of the question. Neither could she call EMS.

  Pressing a towel to his arm, she snatched up his free hand and had him hold the towel in place. “Garenth, you need medical care. I-I don’t know if I can help you. I don’t have anything here outside of a Band-Aid, Tylenol, and some spirits of camphor.” Her throat constricted as she fought the tears welling up in her eyes. “You could die, and there’s not a fucking thing I can do!”

  An odd little smile quirked the corners of his mouth, and the app replied, “Fucking.”

  “It’s a curse word,” she quickly explained as the heat rose into her face.

  She gathered more towels from the bathroom. Pressing several washcloths to his arm, she used a bath towel to secure them in place. “We have to keep pressure on that wound to stop the bleeding.” The mark on his side already appeared to be healing. “It looks like you were grazed here.”

  “Leg.”

  “Your leg?”

  He vaguely pointed to his right calf. Getting on her knees, she lifted his foot to see blood soaking into the coverlet. Quickly, she raised his leg higher to see where another bullet had plowed into the back of his calf. Although she wasn’t medically trained, it was evident the bullet had exited and taken a chunk of the muscle with it. Brielle hastened to try and staunch that wound, too.

  “Are you injured anywhere else?”

  “’La.”

  “No,” the app intoned.

  Garenth groaned softly as she stood up. There was nothing more she could do. She couldn’t even give him anything to help with the pain. There was no telling how his body would react to modern chemicals.

  “Lie down.” Standing over him, she pushed on his chest to make him lie prone on the bed. “You must rest. If you keep moving around, you’re going to bleed out.”

  He stared up at the ceiling, but his eyes seemed unfocused. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear his rocky exterior had either faded or gone white. Placing a hand on his chest, she waited until he finally looked at her.

  “Would you like some water?”

  “Na-am.”

  “Yes,” the app replied.

  ‘La and na-am. No and yes. Her first Arabic words. Brielle smiled to herself.

  “Stay here. I’ll bring you some.”

  She went into the kitchen and filled a glass from the tap. Fortunately she had a few unused straws she’d saved from eating out, and placed one in the water.

  When she returned to the bedroom, she found him lying still, his eyes closed. A flash of fear went through her at the thought that he’d died while she was away, until she saw the faint rise and fall of his chest. He was asleep, and that was good. It was the best thing for him, but he was far from being out of the woods.

  Sitting the glass of water on the bedside table, she went back into the living room and curled up on the couch, expecting it to be a long night.

  She had no recollection of falling asleep.

  Chapter 22

  Evidence

  Elso glared at the police officer, not caring whether or not the man took offense by his attitude. Behind him, another officer surveyed the ruined safe and scattered contents on the floor.

  “And you’re certain all that’s missing is a bag of artifacts?” Officer Billings inquired, taking notes in his pocket spiral.

  “Very unique and rare artifacts,” Elso made sure the man understood. Regardless, the officer seemed nonplussed.

  “Care to give me a description of those artifacts?”

  “I will have my assistant email your department in the morning.”

  Billings wrote that down. “And they were inside a small black bag?”

  “A black velveteen bag, approximately six by eight inches.” Elso glanced over his shoulder. “When is the crime scene investigators due to arrive?” It had been nearly an hour since he’d gotten the call from building security. By the time he’d gotten here, the police were already on the scene and waiting for him. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to be too inclined to investigate any deeper other than to question a couple of people, him included.

  Billings sighed loudly. “Mr. Elso, this appears to be a simple breakin and theft. There was no loss of life, although the guard says he shot the man responsible before the guy took a header out that window.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “We’re currently searching for the body.”

  “The guy could have lived.”

  “Twenty-eight stories up?” The officer chuckled. The sound of it grated on Elso’s nerves.

  “How do you know the guy didn’t have a parachute on him?” he countered irritably.

  The officer’s expression changed. “It’s possible. I mean, considering he was wearing a costume. He very well could have had one hidden in the costume.”

  Elso gave the officer a surprised look. This was the first time he’d heard about a costume. “What kind of disguise did you say the man was wearing?”

  “The security officer who accosted him said he was wearing some kind of bat costume. Not Batman. More like a monster bat, with large wings.”

  Elso lifted his chin. “Could it have been a gargoyle costume?”

  Billings shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Where is the security guard? I want to speak to him.”

  “He was escorted to the station for further questioning, and to have our sketch artist come up with a picture of the suspect,” Billings informed him. “In addition, because the man discharged his weapon, he’s been put on suspended leave until this investigation is over.”

  “Hey, Daryl.” The officer who had been checking out the damaged safe was standing over by Elso’s desk. He crouched down and pointed to the floor. “What does this look like to you?”

  Billings excused himself, adding a request for Elso to remain where he was, and went over to check the carpet where his partner was indicating. Pulling a latex glove from his hip pocket, he snapped it on, then ran his fingers over the plush pile. Nodding to the other officer, he keyed the mic on his shoulder.

  “Sixty-four to dispatch.”

  “Base, go.”

  “We may have a possible one eighty-seven. Requesting CSU at this address.”

  “Affirmative, Sixty-four. Dispatching CSU to your location.”

  Elso straightened his shoulders. Having the crime scene unit called meant a new detail had emerged. “What is it?” he almost demanded.

  Billings and the other man stood. “We don’t know, Mr. Elso. We’ll find out once forensics goes over this place. In the meantime, we’re going to have to cordon off this area.”

  Elso almost sneered, his patience already thinned to the point of breaking. “Well, what do you think you’ve discovered?”

  The two officers glanced at each other.

  “It’s my office, damn it! It’s my property that’s missing! I have the right to know!”

  “We’re not certain,” Billings repeated. “But it could be blood. The security guard did admit that he fired six rounds at the intruder, and knew he’d struck him.”

  Blood. The creature had been hit and wounded.


  Elso stared over at his shattered floor-to-ceiling window. Somewhere out there was an injured gargoyle creature with the bag of artifacts that included the seal. To him, it didn’t matter if the creature died from his wounds. What was imperative was that Elso had to get the kalorshai back before it did. He had to regain possession of the seal, and now time was of the essence.

  “Mr. Elso.” The second officer gestured for him to leave the room. “We need you to leave. This office is off-limits until further notice.”

  Elso glanced around at the mess, when he caught sight of a small object lying on the carpet almost directly underneath the broken safe. Recognizing it, he started to retrieve it when a hand came up to stop him.

  “Mr. Elso—”

  “I need to get something,” he snapped, and shoved away the hand. However, the officer refused to budge, grabbed his arm, and quickly pulled it behind Elso’s back. Elso gasped at the pain.

  “Let me go, jackass!”

  The officer—Barnes, by the name on the tag—remained calm. “You need to leave, Mr. Elso. This site is off-limits.”

  “I still have business to conduct! At least allow me to gather a few things first!”

  Officer Barnes shook his head. “Sorry, sir. But if it’s any consolation, CSU should be finished with their investigation by morning. You should be able to return by tomorrow at the earliest.”

  Elso realized he couldn’t press the issue. Nor could he bulldoze his way past the officer without getting himself arrested and possibly raising suspicion as to what he was so eager to retrieve. Glowering at the man, he shook himself free of the officer’s grasp and left the office.

  As he entered the elevator, he placed a call. It was answered on the second ring.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you aware the esmesh broke into my office this evening and stole the bag containing the kalorshai?”

  Finestra gasped. “No. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “The security guard managed to wound it. Somewhere out there is a wounded esmesh with my seal. Worse, it has knowledge of my office and its location.”