The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9)

by Lisa Blackwood

  He paused and glanced up at Gran with an unhappy look. “But before I rescued Lillian and made my escape, I battled a blood witch. I believe a spell that later grew into a Riven may have made the trip with one of us.”

  “Newly birthed. Sleep of stone,” his lady mumbled half to herself. She jerked her head up and met his gaze. Her eyes widened and a surprised breath hissed past her lips.

  Baffled, he waited.

  She brushed her hand along his mane, and her expression softened. “God. You’re just a child. You were born, found and rescued me in less than a day, and then came here and turned to stone only to wake and rescue me again. You’re not even three days old.”

  “You’re looking at it like a human again,” Sable corrected her.

  “No, I’m thinking like a non-perv. There’s a difference.” Lillian came to her feet and faced off against the other dryad. Gregory stood as well in case he needed to intervene, but he was ignored by the two women.

  “No matter what you think, he is a gargoyle. If you don’t believe me, ask him. Dryads normally gestate their girl-children within their trees for three years. But a ‘gargoyle child’ is more prolonged, closer to ten years. When they are finally born, they are mature, fully developed.”

  Lillian glanced in his direction for confirmation. He nodded. “I was only two years away from maturity. I finished maturing while in stone.”

  “I don’t care. That’s not the same as life experience.” Lillian transferred her scowl to him. “You’re still a child.”

  “No more than you. We departed the Spirit Realm together and were conceived within moments of each other.”

  Lillian’s teeth clicked together, and she exhaled another hissing breath.

  “Fine,” she said and patted his hand, her voice calm. “But you still slept through childhood because you needed to heal. You took injuries protecting me, and you lack the experiences you would have learned during childhood and adolescence.”

  He grinned at her dogged determination to protect him. “We have lived many lifetimes. I have all those memories.”

  “We’ll talk about this more later.” Lillian stood between him and the other dryads with her hands fisted at her sides, her spine rigid. “I’m dead serious.”

  The scent in the room changed to one of challenge. His little dryad was so very protective of him. It was... endearing. Gregory hastily swallowed a rumble of laughter.

  “Well,” Vivian said into the silence. “Glad we’ve aired that laundry. Now, where were we, Gregory? You were saying about how you came to rescue Lillian.”

  “Indeed.” His humor vanished with the reminder that creatures of darkness were still abroad in this realm, creating havoc and killing innocents. “As I said, I think I carried more than just Lillian to this realm when we fled the Lady of Battles.”

  Lillian tapped him on the arm to get his attention. “Who or what is the Lady of Battles? Same goes for a blood witch.” To judge by Lillian’s somber tone, her earlier anger at the dryads was forgotten.

  “The Lady of Battles is a creature of extreme darkness. She wanted your power. I put a stop to her plans.” Gregory winced at his evasion. I hope, he added silently.

  “Go on,” Lillian prompted.

  “She was not always evil. She once served the Light as a...” Gregory paused, and then sorted through Lillian’s mind for the proper word. “A warden-like demigoddess granted powers by the Divine Ones to hunt out evil and keep it in check. As their daughter, the Lady of Battles had great power. For millennia, she served the Divine Ones. She had a twin, the Lord of the Underworld. The Lady also had a consort, the Shieldbearer. Although her consort was a demigod in his own right, he lacked the power of the twins. Jealous of the power the Lord of the Underworld commanded, the Shieldbearer attacked the Lady’s twin, intent on taking that power for himself. The Lord of the Underworld saw the evil growing in the Shieldbearer’s heart and deemed him incurable. And as his nature dictated, Lord Death destroyed that evil the only way he knew how. He killed the Shieldbearer and sent his soul back to the Divine Ones to heal.

  “If he had realized what that one act would bring about, the Lord of the Underworld would not have killed his twin’s mate. The Lady of Battles went insane. She blamed her brother for her pain. And so, the war began. The Battle Goddess tapped into the power stored in the Veil between the Realms, turning it into a weapon to use against her twin. Lord Death responded by severing her connection to the Veil. She then turned to other methods.”

  Gregory paused and made a wide, all-encompassing gesture. “The Twins would have destroyed entire worlds had the Divine Ones not intervened. They punished both Twins by ordering them banished from the Spirit Realm and chained to their respective temples within the Magic Realm.” He did not mention that he and his Sorceress were the ones ordered to carry out that punishment.

  He continued his censored tale. “But during the war, many who lived in the once-peaceful Magic Realm fled for their lives. Some sought shelter with the Lord of the Underworld, but a great many more fled to the Mortal Realm while the Veil between the Realms was still weak enough to allow travel.”

  “That is how our ancestors arrived in this world,” Sable added in a soft voice.

  Gregory nodded. “But the Divine Ones’ punishment didn’t stop the Lady of Battles. Even imprisoned, she drew a great army to serve her, the very creatures of darkness she was supposed to keep imprisoned. The Lord of the Underworld gathered his own army. I, like all gargoyles, serve him. For centuries, the Lady has been growing her army and not all her warriors served willingly. By capturing Lillian, she planned to make me serve her as well. As for a blood witch, they use blood, life energy, and souls from innocent creatures to fuel their dark spells.”

  Lillian closed her eyes, her lashes a dark line along her cheeks. She spoke without looking at him. “So... I was captured by this Battle Goddess?”

  “Yes. And I think the blood witch infected one of us—me most likely—with a spell that would infect another, turning that poor person into a Riven.” He turned to Vivian. “In the first days after I arrived, did others come to examine me?”

  Vivian grunted. “Only every powerful fae on this side of the pond.”

  “One of my visitors must have been infected before my body rid itself of the spell. That fae then infected others. Forgive me.”

  “You didn’t create the spell,” Lillian offered. “If I hadn’t gotten captured, none of this would have happened. That makes this mess my fault. It’s up to me to make it right. You said the Lady of Battles wanted my power. If I have power, it must be good for something. What can I do to force the Riven back to their prison?”

  “You claim responsibility that is not yours to take. You were a child, innocent of any wrongdoing. Before you challenge the Riven, you must first be trained in your magic.” Mild panic churned in Gregory’s stomach. If she started to probe for her magic, there was no telling what would happen.

  Until he had time to discover what had happened to her in the Battle Goddess’s kingdom, he couldn’t trust her, no matter how much his heart wanted to.

  “Then tell me what I need to know. Teach me. Tell me about the Realms and our enemy.”

  “You make it sound so easy. There is so much you must learn. I scarcely know enough of your words to explain it in a way you’ll understand.” He sighed, his brows drawing together in thought. What was safe to tell her? He rubbed at his forehead, mildly surprised when he didn’t encounter horns. Already this hybrid body was beginning to feel ordinary. Natural—like the tenderness he felt for his lady. And that was the danger.

  There was so much he didn’t know.

  For now, a half-truth would have to do. “Think of the Realms as layers making up the universe. The layer we reside in now is the Mortal Realm. Surrounding this one, is the Magic Realm, where the Twins were banished. The last and greatest, the Spirit Realm, surrounds the others. All the Realms are protected and separated by the Veil—a great weaving of magic compos
ed of all the elements. Most creatures can’t cross the Veil. The Riven can’t, so they are trapped here in this magic-starved land. That lack of magic likely slowed their spread.”

  “How do we stop them?” Lillian asked.

  He hesitated while he chose the next fragments of truth he hoped would satisfy Lillian’s curiosity. “I must hunt all of them down and destroy them with purifying magic. Depending on how many of these Riven are here and how strong they have grown, I might require help to kill this infection.”

  “Why do you remember all this when I don’t? What happened to my memories if it wasn’t a drowning accident?”

  His stomach contracted into a tight knot. “You were not strong enough to travel through the Veil. You were damaged.” His words sounded rushed to his own ears. Merciful Divine Ones, please don’t let her guess the truth, not yet.

  “Will I heal in time? Remember all these past lives you mentioned?” she said, her eyes thoughtful.

  “Yes. Though I don’t know how long it will be before you remember.”

  “Please,” he whispered in his mind, “don’t let that be another lie.”

  Lillian frowned, as if sensing his lie, but her expression smoothed out after a moment and she asked, “In the meantime, how do we go about hunting these Riven?”

  “I will be able to hunt and track them once I find a trail. However, there is a more immediate concern that needs our attention,” Gregory explained. “Your hamadryad tree was wounded during the attack, and I didn’t have the strength to heal both the tree and you. I placed a weaving over the injuries to protect against further damage, but the wounds need tending. I would appreciate it if one of the dryads would guide you in learning a dryad’s magic.”

  He pointedly focused on Sable. “I can supply strength and my blood as needed, but the actual act of healing isn’t one of my greater skills.”

  “I would be honored.” Sable bowed, and then after straightening, she glided up next to Lillian. “Come, Sister. I will direct you in the use of a dryad’s power.”

  Lillian glanced back at him questioningly, but Sable tugged on her arm and dragged her in the direction of the back door. He tracked the pleasant sway of his lady’s hips as she descended the stairs outside.

  Alone now, shadows curled around his body, hiding him as he summoned his gargoyle form. When he had his familiar shape back, he dropped to all fours and followed the lingering scent of dryad.

  Chapter 12

  HOT, HUMID AIR HINTED at the chance of an evening thundershower. Gregory hoped for one. Perhaps it would wash away some of the stink. He wrinkled his muzzle in distaste. The mixed odors of slaughter, old death, and burnt flesh hung over the grove. If they managed to awaken Lillian’s dryad magic, it might help purify the grove. Her natural dryad magic wouldn’t be linked to her powers as the Sorceress, so it should be safe for Lillian to summon it without triggering any trap left by the Lady of Battles. He hoped.

  Shadows cast by the maze’s west wall stretched across the glade as the sun eased closer to the horizon. A slash of white glowed among the darkness. As it came closer, the pale shape glided between the slender trunks of the trees, weaving and bucking in his joyous frenzy.

  Had the unicorn kept up his antics all day?

  Probably.

  Gregory had eaten rabbits with more intelligence.

  The stallion bolted straight toward Gregory. He wished the unicorn’s natural power wasn’t to see through deception; in this case, a gargoyle’s shadow magic. Dirt and bits of grass bombarded him as the unicorn skidded to a halt within arm’s reach. Gregory’s displeasure increased when the unicorn pranced over to Lillian with his neck arched and tail sailing like a banner in the wind.

  The unicorn bobbed his head and rubbed his muzzle against the dryad. Lillian laughed and stroked the unicorn’s nose, then moved up to scratch the base of his spiraled horn.

  Gregory directed his thoughts at the stallion. “Have you forgotten it was a woman who tempted you into taking human form and caused your... predicament?”

  “I have not forgotten.” The unicorn rolled an eye in Gregory’s direction. “But she’s stunning and she smells delicious.”

  “And you look and smell like food, too,” Gregory warned.

  “Predators are all the same, but you’re worse than most. Do you even know what a sense of humor is?”

  “No.”

  The unicorn inched away from Lillian.

  Content, Gregory returned his attention to Lillian, where she stood between Sable and Russet. The three women were standing at the base of the hamadryad. Sable had begun the first lesson, unaware of what went on between gargoyle and unicorn.

  “Feel your tree,” Sable was saying, “her life force humming under your hands. She is the source of your power and your strength. From her, you draw life. Without her, there is only death.”

  Lillian glanced back at him and then beyond the arch of one of his wings to the remains of the shattered stone circle. She paled. But a moment later, she straightened her shoulders and placed her hands on her tree in a decisive move.

  Pride swelled in his heart. His lady was strong. The Sorceress always had been—but this lifetime, he had worried she would not be strong enough. For once he was happy to be proven wrong.

  Lillian leaned forward until her forehead rested on the rough bark of the tree, scant inches beneath the lower of the two long slashes. The blue lattice of his weaving still glowed in the shade cast by the upper canopy.

  “Do you feel it?” Sable asked her student.

  Lillian nodded her head. “Yes, it’s... it’s so much—such strength. Why did I not know of this before?”

  “I’d ask your gargoyle that question, were I you. Perhaps because you didn’t know your true nature, you had no idea this was even possible, so didn’t try.” Sable gestured at the hamadryad. “Now direct some of the power you feel into the redwood. Visualize the wounds. Imagine all signs of dirt and disease pushed from those wounds. Good. Now envision the wound knitting together, the edges closing, the bark intact once again.” Sable patted Lillian on the shoulder. “Excellent, young one. It comes so naturally to you. It will not be long until you are truly a dryad in all ways—wait! What are you doing?”

  The startled edge to Sable’s tone jolted Gregory into action. Power raised the hair at the back of his neck and tingled in his lungs as he drew another quick breath. This was not a dryad’s weaving. This was energy drawn from the Magic Realm—an act of power as the Sorceress, not just a dryad. He rushed to Lillian’s side and placed a hand on her shoulder. When she turned to him with power bright in her eyes, he knew how dangerous the situation had grown. Energy bled from Lillian. It bubbled from the Magic Realm, flowing across the land like a spring-fed brook, Lillian its headwater. The current caught at his wings, tugging at them.

  “My lady, you have healed your hamadryad and using more magic now might be too taxing.” He spun another web of half-truths, not caring if she figured out later she had been lied to. The Magic Realm was bad enough, but if he didn’t stop this now, she might switch and draw power directly from the Spirit Realm.

  “I don’t feel tired at all. This is wonderful... I can feel the evil shriveling and dying all around the meadow. It’s magnificent. Look,” she said as she pointed toward where the stone circle lay shattered. Magic shimmered along her arms, barely visible, like heat waves in the desert. “I can fix it and make it stronger, watch.”

  Sable took one look at Lillian’s arms and took several steps back. With shock replacing her usually serene expression, the older dryad’s gaze followed where Lillian pointed. Gregory held his breath.

  Fragments of stone rose up from the grass as Lillian returned the shattered stones back to their proper places. Stone pillars formed out of the rubble. Not a stone or piece of gravel was out of place or showed even a hint of damage. Power continued building. She’d said she could make it stronger. No doubt she could, but not with the supplies she had at her call here. She needed additional mat
erials and better-quality stone if she wanted to create a more powerful ward.

  Small tremors under his feet warned him he needed to stop this now. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, subtly absorbing the power she’d summoned before it could cause an unbalance in the natural world. “Enough. Listen to me. You’re not yet ready for this. You don’t have what you need to make the circle stronger—if you try to force extra power into those stones, the circle will erupt like it did when the Riven attacked you.”

  “I can control this. I know I can.” She sounded drunk.

  He shook her. “Do you want to be responsible for the deaths of Sable and Russet?”

  His meaning must have penetrated her power-drugged mind. She froze and then paled. “I wouldn’t harm you or the others. I’d stop before the stones became stressed.”

  “How would you know when they reached that point?”

  “I...” Her shoulders hunched and the vast flow of magic dwindled. “You’re right. What am I doing?”

  He held her until the last trickle of power died away. Magic strained under his skin, filling him to the point of pain. A neigh from behind him had never been so welcome. A moment later, the unicorn started siphoning power. When the magic was a more manageable presence, Gregory looked over his shoulder and inclined his head in thanks. The unicorn echoed the motion, and then with a spray of grass and clumps of mud, the stallion bounded off into the shadows of the grove.