Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2)

by Lisa Blackwood

  “Warfare?” The pooka’s ears perked up. “I have not rolled in the blood of my enemies in an age.”

  The unicorn shuddered and made a series of distressed snorts. He edged away from the black pony until he was safely behind the shelter of Gregory’s slightly mantled wings, only then did he scrounge up enough bravery to arch his neck to peer at the pooka. “And you call yourself an herbivore?”

  A pale glow gleamed deep in the pooka’s eyes, just a hint of yellow, as if he thought about shedding his pony disguise.

  Gregory was just drawing breath to defuse the situation, when the sound of feet on gravel reached his ears. He swiveled one ear in the direction of the sound, judging distance. Lillian was coming fast, kicking up gravel as she ran. “Don’t start fighting.” He glowered at the pooka for good measure. “I have something of importance I wish to ask before Lillian arrives. Gran told me of Lillian’s parents. Were either of you near when they came?”

  The unicorn bobbed his head in assent, and then to Gregory’s surprise, the pooka followed a moment later. He’d expected the pooka would have been nearby. Of all the Fae, he most wanted to return to the Magic Realm, and Lillian was his best chance to accomplish his goal. But Gregory was surprised by how readily he was getting answers from the ornery beast. While he was getting answers, he might as well see what else he could glean from his new allies. “Later, when Lillian is distracted by Gran or others, I want you two to seek me out and divulge all you know of her birthparents and their possible intentions.” For the pooka’s benefit, he added, “I will be in your debt.”

  The yellow shimmer in the pooka’s gaze intensified, and he stepped closer to Gregory. His warm breath puffed along Gregory’s skin as soft whiskers brushed over his arm and up along his shoulder to stop at the junction of neck and collar bone. Mobile equine lips nipped softly at an artery before pulling away. “We have a deal, Gregory. I imagine your blood is rich.”

  Chapter Three

  By the time Lillian came pelting down the trail, Gregory was already leaning nonchalantly against the fence and both equines were safely on the other side, grazing like they’d been doing so all along. She skidded to a halt beside him, sweating and out of breath. He merely tilted his head in her direction in acknowledgement and waited patiently while she leaned over, held her side, and wheezed like she’d never run in her life.

  When he stepped forward and placed an arm around her shoulders and urged her to lean against the fence next to him, she complied without hesitation and rested her hip against a post. “What’s wrong with me? I’m as weak as a kitten.”

  “You still haven’t completely recovered. Your hamadryad healed you, but now you must rebuild your strength and endurance. You shouldn’t have run so far.”

  She jerked her head up and glared at him. “And whose fault is that? I wouldn’t have had to run if you hadn’t taken off. I still can’t believe you just ran off,” she growled in a remarkably good imitation of him. “Didn’t you hear what Gran said about all the authorities lurking behind every bush? Or did you forget the meaning of ‘stop’ while you slept for three months? Because I’d be happy to give you a little reminder.”

  “I heard what Vivian said about these new human authorities. I simply am not concerned by them. Humans have no power to threaten, hold, or enslave me.”

  “But they can shoot your half-naked ass.”

  Gregory swallowed a growl, not wanting to fight with Lillian about so trivial a concern as humans, not when the Lady of Battles might already be moving an invading army into position at this very moment.

  Lillian’s seemingly peevish demeanor was nothing more than a disguise, one he’d seen many times since he’d first come to this world. He knew her outward crustiness had more to do with worry than annoyance at having to run after him. Besides, he already had a good method for handling Lillian’s fear.

  Inching closer, he dipped his muzzle and licked her from chin to hairline. She responded with the usual squawk as she flailed at his muzzle with the flat of her hand. Her contact wasn’t much more than a pat, so he took advantage of her hesitancy to do him harm by bumping her hands away with his muzzle and landing another sloppy kiss across her face, and then a third along her neck.

  He nuzzled aside the neckline of her top and her giggles choked off on a gasp. Her fingers dug into his scalp as she grabbed fistfuls of his mane and nearly jerked it out by the roots.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Attitude adjustment.” Gregory chuckled at her affronted look. “You were in need of a distraction. You were allowing your fear to affect your judgment.”

  “Nice attempt at modern phrases.” One delicate eyebrow shot up at his words. “Sadly, it falls flat when your reasoning is positively medieval.”

  Gregory’s ears perked as hope flashed through his being. “Then I’ll stop trying to adapt to this modern world. We’ll both be happier.”

  “You say and do the oddest things.” She shook her head at him. “Let’s leave this entire episode as a species barrier incident, shall we?”

  “As you wish, beloved.” With the danger of Lillian learning his true intent at seeking out the two equines bypassed, he shook the residual tension out of his wings.

  Tilting her head back, her eyes flicked over his features in a way he knew was trouble. She crossed her arms over her breasts and said, “Don’t ‘beloved’ me. You’re hiding something. What did you say to the unicorn and the pooka you didn’t want me to overhear?”

  He winced inwardly at her astute observation. “I wish for them to find and bring Whitethorn and Greenborrow to me.” Which was the truth, Gregory reasoned with himself. He’d planned to ask them to do that very thing after he’d talked of Lillian’s parents. “We must discuss battle strategy. You’re more than welcome to join the meeting, but I know both you and Gran would likely appreciate the time to catch up with each other.”

  His ears pricked up and his wings relaxed marginally—his words sounded plausible, she shouldn’t take exception to them. As if on cue, the unicorn and the pooka lifted their heads from grazing and pointed their ears in Gregory’s direction. With a snort and a bob of his head, the unicorn was the first to jump the fence and take off down the trail, the pooka a dark shadow a short distance behind.

  Gentle fingers curled around his muzzle and tilted it until she was looking directly into his eyes—hers were full of sorrow. “Have I taught my Gargoyle Protector to lie? Is that the gift I have given him?” Sadness echoed in her voice even as the words were carried away on the afternoon breeze.

  “Lillian.”

  She slid one finger against his lips. “Don’t. Not if it’s another lie. In the not so distant past, we both concealed truths with the intention of protecting the other. As I recall, it didn’t work out so well for us.” Lillian stepped up to him, surprising him with a fierce embrace, her arms squeezing him with all the strength she possessed. “I will never knowingly lie to you again.”

  Nothing and no one possessed the power to unman him as devastatingly as his Sorceress. He bowed his muzzle over Lillian’s head, nuzzling her hair as his arms and wings encircled her smaller form. “Forgive me. Even if I learn nothing in this life, I will learn this lesson well. You have my word, I will not lie to you again.” He dragged in a deep breath, savoring her calming scent.

  Lillian held her silence as she petted his back in long soothing strokes.

  To his shame, his wings trembled at her gentle touch, but something in his spirit eased and the truth flowed from him freely. “I asked the unicorn and the pooka to tell me what they had learned about your birth parents. Both equines have a unique ability to read the heart of a person—to see one’s hidden personality traits, their loves, hates, their deepest desires—what lengths they will stoop to in order to complete a mission. Dark things no child should have to learn about a parent, beloved or not.”

  Lillian gave a bitter sounding laugh. “Gregory, there is nothing the pooka and the unicorn can tell me that
will be worse than what I already imagine. At most, whatever they say will only confirm what I suspect.” She patted his shoulder in a companionable way before continuing, “Later, together, we’ll listen to what the unicorn and pooka have to say about my parents.”

  “Your words hold wisdom.” He gave her hand where it rested on his shoulder an affectionate lick.

  She sighed predictably at the dampness covering the back of her hand, but the muscles of her jaw relaxed enough for a hint of a smile to show through. “Well, there’s a first. Let’s go find Greenborrow and Whitethorn.” Her lips turned down in determination. “Battle plans await.”

  With a sharp nod of assent, Gregory dropped to all fours and bumped his nose under her hand. Her fingers skimmed over the curve of his muzzle and around the base of one horn before settling in his mane as she took up a long legged stride, a perfect match for his ground eating walk.

  With the subtle contact, peace flowed between them and Gregory’s world was back as it should be.

  Chapter Four

  Lillian halted at the edge of the forest’s shadowy perimeter. Gregory mirrored her motion, and she dropped her fingers away from his mane. The breeze blew cool across her heated face, the contrast raising gooseflesh along her arms.

  If she had a choice, she would turn back and return to the cottage where her grandmother was probably making another batch of cookies, knowing her. But Lillian did not really have a choice, the Lady of Battles wasn’t giving her one. Gregory was right. A battle was coming—with the humans or the Lady of Battles—Lillian wasn’t sure which. She just hoped it wasn’t both at the same time. A war on two fronts would be too much, even for Gregory, or at least impossible to limit casualties.

  The gravel path continued for another dozen feet before it turned, winding its twisting way through the trees and out of sight. Lillian hesitated a moment longer, and then with a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and marched into the shadow of the trees.

  They walked in silence. The only sounds their own footfalls and the soft rustle of leaves. The forest was unnaturally quiet. No squirrels scurried among the branches. Nothing, not so much as a bird song on the breeze. Even the resident chipmunks were absent. She glanced in Gregory’s direction.

  “It’s exactly like Gran said; it’s as if all the wildlife has been scared off by a pack of city born trophy hunters. No wonder Gran was having fits. Three months of this, and I would be ready to start hunting the invaders, too,” Lillian grumbled more to herself than Gregory.

  They walked for perhaps another twenty minutes. All the while the forest grew thicker, the shadows darker, the rich scent of loam heavier in the air. As the forest embraced her, Lillian relaxed further.

  Gregory stopped, lifted his head, and sniffed the air.

  “Now what?”

  In answer, Gregory stepped out around her, veered off the path, and disappeared behind an evergreen’s dense foliage.

  “Why, Gregory, thank you for answering my question.” With a snort, Lillian followed her gargoyle off the path and into the forest. They continued to walk, dodging tree trunks, craggy roots, thorny thickets, and boggy low spots. Lillian was used to the forest’s tricky geography and kept pace with Gregory relatively painlessly, though she was envious of the way he moved so gracefully.

  She knew he could move much faster without her, but she appreciated the slower pace given how winded she was after even a short run. The shadows of the forest thinned ahead, brightening to true sunlight twenty feet beyond. They emerged into a meadow. This one carpeted with knee high grass and a sprinkling of wildflowers. At the end of the clearing, the unicorn circled a large pine. He trotted with his neck arched and his tail a glowing white banner behind him. Every inch of his body language said he was pleased with himself.

  When Lillian squinted at the shadows below the pine’s sweeping branches, she could just make out another shadowy form. Unlike the unicorn, who showed no more concern for human authorities than Gregory did, the one under the tree was wise enough to want to hide.

  Upon closer proximity, Lillian recognized the other Fae’s slender form and long silvery hair, the shimmering shade not one she’d ever seen on a human. She raised a hand in greeting to the sidhe leader. Whitethorn cast a nervous glance around the meadow before he edged out from underneath the tree’s canopy. Only then did Lillian notice he had his bow at the ready, an arrow notched. He lowered the point to the ground and jerked his head toward darker shadows to his left. There the forest thickened again, choking out the meadow grasses with the shrubby growth of understory trees.

  Gregory skirted the meadow, and as Lillian paced him, she felt when he called on the cold magic of the Spirit Realm. The air around them became chilled, like someone had opened a freezer door. A fine mist rose from the warm ground, and shadows beneath the surrounding trees deepened, blurring and softening the bright light of day into something more like twilight. Ahead, Gregory’s bulk had vanished completely, and Lillian was willing to bet she herself was now invisible to mortal eyes.

  But it didn’t mean they were immune or hidden from a more technological variety of eye.

  “Wait. Gregory, you might not be as concealed as you think.”

  Casting a nervous look at the clear blue sky, she lengthened her strides and came alongside where she’d last seen Gregory. She grabbed in the general vicinity of where his shoulder should’ve been and came in contact with a wing instead. Tugging forcefully, she attempted to turn him. “Humans have technology, science you have never seen, which can track things like body heat and movement from high overhead or kilometers away.”

  He became visible as he flicked his wing free of her grasp. “You doubt my ability to protect us from humans?” Then turning toward her, he stepped closer until his muzzle was only inches away.

  Lillian held her ground. “I’m not questioning your prowess as a protector. I’m questioning your ability to find a peaceful resolution regarding humans.”

  “Then you need not worry.” Warm breath puffed across her cheeks. When he smiled, she got a worm’s eye view of his very white fangs. His deep voice rumbled in her ears when he spoke. “I sense no humans near us. There are a few within an hour’s walk, but even if they stumble upon us, I promise to deal with them ‘gently’. As for being seen from above, I have made it impossible.”

  Standing toe to toe, with his bulk dwarfing her, his massive wings curling to partially enfold her in their velvet expanse, it would have been easy to back down to his passive aggressive stance. Instead, she tilted her head so she could meet his gaze and asked, “Care to elaborate on the last statement?”

  He drew a deep breath which expanded his chest and leaned closer until they were nose to nose. “Not now.”

  Grumpy, she thought, now who needs an attitude adjustment? “If you’re not going to budge, why are we wasting time with this staring contest?” Lillian tossed back, and then placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. He jumped back, startled, and she hooted. “You moved, points for me.”

  Gregory huffed, folded his wings tight, and stormed off toward Whitethorn.

  “Spoil sport,” she called out to his retreating back. Grinning so hard it hurt, she followed in his wake. While she might not possess great powers like she’d supposedly once commanded, still she had a purpose—keeping her beloved gargoyle humble. And possibly guiding him through all the pitfalls he might encounter in the modern world he so despised.

  Lillian hung back while Gregory and Whitethorn exchanged formal greetings. Even when she’d still been an Avatar to a Goddess and possessed the title of Mother’s Sorceress, somehow she doubted decisions involving war, weapon-making, and troop placements would have fallen to her. Those details seemed more in line with Gregory’s overprotective personality.

  “The pooka said you wished to speak with me, Lord Gargoyle.” The sidhe leader’s words were accompanied by a half bow, the move more graceful than anything executed on a ballroom floor. Without the shimmering silver locks, pointed ears, and dark
grey brocade tunic, he’d look perfectly at home on one of those polished floors as well.

  She had yet to meet a Fae lacking in elegance—well, excluding the times she glanced in a mirror.

  Maybe elegance sometimes skips generations like other genetic traits?

  Gregory’s rumbling voice drew her back to the conversation at hand. “Gran informed me while Lillian and I rested and healed for three months, we received some unusual ‘guests’. We must conceive of a solution to our present problems.”

  “A wise idea. But not here where we are so exposed.” Whitethorn drew back deeper into the shadows, gesturing for Lillian and Gregory to follow. “If Vivian told you of our visitors, she must have also warned you of the increased numbers of humans roaming our lands. It isn’t safe to remain in the open.”

  Gregory’s tail twitched at the word ‘humans’, but he mellowed enough to follow Whitethorn without argument, for which Lillian was grateful. Perhaps she had an ally in the sidhe leader.

  Deeper into the woods, they finally stopped, and she perched on a fallen tree trunk. Gregory and Whitethorn both turned to look out beyond their circle, toward a small game trail to the right of where Lillian sat. She glanced in the same direction but saw nothing. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what they found so interesting when she heard the soft clomp of hooves. Seconds later the unicorn galloped down the path in their direction, Greenborrow clinging to his back. As soon as the unicorn halted, Greenborrow tumbled off.

  A few choice words in an unknown language colored the small clearing. More disheveled than normal, Greenborrow straightened his baggy clothes and squared his shoulders, growing taller as she watched. He stomped his feet a couple times as if it would knock the wrinkles out of his long tunic, and then he closed his eyes and curled his bare toes into the forest loam. After a deep sigh, he opened his eyes and took them all in with a merry look. “That’s better. Solid ground under my feet. No leshii was ever intended to ride horseback.”