Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2)

by Lisa Blackwood

  At the leshii’s words, the unicorn neighed loud enough to echo through the forest.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Greenborrow leveled a glare at the equine. “Oh…horseback, unicorn, pooka….one’s as unnatural to ride as another.”

  “Then walk next time!” With a twirl of his head, the unicorn spun and galloped back into the forest.

  “That went well,” Lillian mumbled under her breath.

  “I thought so.” Greenborrow bestowed her with a grin and a jaunty little bow. “Always nice to see you.” Then turning to Gregory and Whitethorn, he became more serious. “Well, Lord Gargoyle, what thoughts do you hide behind those black mirror eyes?”

  “Dark thoughts,” Gregory said. He shook out his wings and sat down with his tail curled around his haunches. The other two Fae joined him, and he gestured for Lillian to sit by his side.

  She hadn’t fully settled herself when a semi-heavy weight landed in her lap. Gregory proceeded to coil his tail around her waist twice until the spade-shaped tip was again directly in front, conveniently under her hands. Inwardly, she smiled at the predictability of her touchy-feely guardian while she settled her fingers on the boney ridges and began to massage between the plate-like armor at the very tip.

  Whitethorn arched an eyebrow before he continued the conversation from earlier. “If we don’t take precautions, we may find ourselves fighting a battle on three fronts—the humans, the Riven, and the Lady of Battles. Even you, Gregory, might find those daunting odds.”

  “The Lady of Battles is my greatest concern. While she can’t come here herself, she may send her warriors soon. My normal defensive weavings will not remain effective for any length of time in this Realm so I must try another method. I will gift any Fae who wishes to join me with magic forged weapons and personal defensive spells keyed to an object. It will protect the magic from the ravages of this Realm.”

  “Permanent talismans,” Greenborrow whistled. “You, my boy, are planning on expending a great deal of magic. More Fae will come, curious as they would be of any gargoyle in the Mortal Realm. Many newcomers have already arrived, and felt your power even as you healed. Some of the oldest guessed who and what you are—the Avatars. In this magic-starved land, you my darlings, are an unequaled banquet.”

  Gregory nodded. “And I welcome them to come to feast on magic cast off as I forge weapons and spells.”

  “Is that a bribe?” Whitethorn asked, sounding almost incredulous.

  “Yes, if it will sway more to my side.”

  “And if we are victorious?”

  “My offer is still the same, there is no limit upon it. When I return home with Lillian, any who wish to come with me, may.”

  Greenborrow slapped his knees and chuckled. “And, that, my fine gargoyle, is the best bribe of all.”

  Whitethorn’s nod was dower. “Indeed.”

  “Why are we just sitting here? Are we waiting for the Lady of Battles to show up for tea?” Greenborrow stood up and bowed to Lillian. “Though your lovely grandmother might just be civil enough to bake for even her worst enemy.”

  “A word of caution.” The sidhe leader stood in one graceful motion. “Not all Fae who come to you will be trust worthy.”

  “I don’t expect them to be,” Gregory said and glanced in the direction of a darker shadow, which coalesced into the pooka. “My personal standards are not as elevated as they once were.”

  Gregory unwound his tail from Lillian’s waist. She missed the weight and the warmth, but also the gentle flow of magic between them; however, she didn’t let it distract her from an earlier worry. “But what are we supposed to do with the humans while we wage a war with the Battle Goddess’ minions. Most humans aren’t bad….for goodness sake, I thought I was human. You can’t expect me to stand aside and allow harm to come to them.”

  Gregory huffed.

  “We’re Avatars. Surely we have a duty to protect the humans of this world?”

  “Perhaps, but it’s not a primary one,” Gregory said, looking thoughtful once more. “As Avatars, our first and foremost role is to act as physical vessels for the Divine Ones to pour their power and essence into so they can come together to beget offspring in a way that doesn’t jeopardize all their creation. An age can come and pass before they choose to call on us for that task, but we have a long and varied list of other duties to perform when our primary function is not required.”

  “Yah, I remember the coming together equals a ‘glorious death’—as in ours—‘to give new life’ speech. Someone needs to tell the Divine Ones that seems a steep price to pay for a little fun in the sack.”

  Gregory’s one ear flicked forward and then back, but otherwise he didn’t move a muscle, trying to stare her down instead, she suspected. Or perhaps she’d struck him speechless.

  Finally he blinked, and then started to laugh. “When this life is over, and we once again walk in the Spirit Realm as one being, we must remember to mention what you said to our creators. Perhaps they will grant us some freedoms in the next life they have never given before, and we have never thought to ask.”

  Lillian crossed her arms. “You’re making fun of me again, aren’t you?”

  “Just a little.”

  “Thanks, love you too.”

  “Our thoughts, desires, and motivations are so different when we shed our mortal bodies and become one being in the Spirit Realm, I sometimes forget you cannot remember how it is. We have never been unhappy—frustrated, yes,” he chuckled, and took her hand in his again, “but never unhappy with our lot.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Lillian sighed, and fought to bury her more cynical side, the one which wanted to challenge and question and pick apart every little detail to understand what made them tick.

  A throat cleared behind them, and Lillian remembered they had an audience, a rapt one by Greenborrow’s fascinated expression. Whitethorn, who had been the one to clear his throat, nodded his head in the universal signal to continue.

  Lillian flushed slightly, then asked, “But you might be convinced to aid the humans?”

  Gregory bobbed his head. “If they do not get in my way.” He paused and Lillian watched him struggle for the right word. “I cannot risk two realms, not even to save a few innocent mortals.”

  Lillian could be just as stubborn. “But you will try to protect the humans if at all possible, yes?”

  Gregory’s ear flicked to half-mast position in what Lillian was coming to recognize as the gargoyle version of a flinch. “Yes. All innocents deserve our protection.”

  “Thank you.” Lillian reached out and grasped his hands, wanting to show him she knew he wasn’t finding this life or this world easy to acclimatize to. “I know all this would be so much easier if I had your Sorceress’ memories.”

  Gregory stood and stretched, still keeping her fingers trapped within his. “You will one day remember all that has been lost.”

  “I guess I’ll just wait for that day,” Lillian sighed out dejectedly.

  “It will only be for a short while, as we judge time, before you regain your memories and all else you once were.” Gregory sighed and butted his head against her chest hard enough to make her sway.

  “Stop it. You’ve got work to do.”

  He sighed a second time, giving her a much put out look. “Yes.”

  Whitethorn bowed to them both. “I will ask all available sidhe metalsmiths to come to your aid, and Greenborrow will do the same among the rest of the Clan.” He tilted his head in the leshii’s direction. Greenborrow nodded his head in acknowledgement.

  “In the meantime, until the metalsmiths have arrived, I will construct some defensive spells to warn us should the Riven attempt to invade our lands. While the spells will cover a vast area, they will be temporary, lasting mere days in this Realm. However, they will help until the next Wild Hunt can run.”

  “We are honored to have your protection.” Whitethorn folded his arms across his chest and bowed at the waist.

  �
�Until later, then,” Gregory said and started away from the small clearing where they’d talked. Lillian followed, curious about how he would place magic enchantments over a large area. She might lack her own magic at present, but that would not always be the case, and at the very least she could watch and learn.

  Gregory walked a short distance and dropped to all fours. He circled back and sidled up next to her. His one wing dipped in invitation, baring his broad shoulders and back. His tail snaked around her hips before she thought to try and backpedal out of immediate danger. But it was too late and his muscular tail dragged her closer to his back.

  “I’m not tired. I can walk, really!”

  Gregory coughed, or it might have been a laugh. Lillian failed to find the humor in the situation. He wanted her to ride gargoyle-back, as it were, and she wanted nothing more than to avoid that fate.

  Last time, she’d found the whole situation too bumpy, too fast, too scary, and far too intimate—equal parts awkward and thrilling at the same time. And this time, she feared she might not find it so bumpy or scary.

  “This is probably a bad idea.” Lillian ran possible scenarios through her mind. “I might fall off and break something.”

  “Now who is lying? Besides, I won’t let you fall.” Gregory forced her closer. It was get on his back or be flipped over it to land painfully on the ground on the other side.

  Lillian decided to save what dignity she still possessed and tossed a leg over his back and settled in place. Gregory’s wings folded tight to either side of her thighs, locking her in place. She knew from previous rides she was actually as secure as she would be if she buckled herself into a car. Probably more so. Gregory looked out for her welfare—a car was far more indifferent.

  Chapter Five

  The siren glanced up uneasily at the ocean’s ceiling. A mirror-bright, cerulean blue reflected from the upper realm, a world of air and strange destinies; a world she’d soon have to explore.

  She swam for hours, unable to find the source of the oily taint she inhaled with each flutter of her gills. It was everywhere, had worked its way into every reef, school of fish, and patch of kelp she encountered. While she did find life, it was not thriving as it should. The underwater world, her realm to protect, was changing, its magic diminishing, its species no longer as numerous as they once had been.

  Even the great whales were not untouched. From them she gathered more knowledge. As she’d suspected, humans were responsible. The whales’ perception of the source of the taint—some cataclysm—was vague, the details scattered and full of holes. They could only relate what they themselves had heard, but they spoke of a family of dolphins that had witnessed the event.

  With greater determination, Tethys set out to find the dolphins.

  ****

  For leagues, the siren swam, her anger banked, but still glowing like a land-bound’s fire. Around her, the ocean’s waters raged in sympathy. White capped waves rolled away from her location with greater and greater frequency.

  A soft clicking sounded in the distance. Twisting her body, she whipped around, honing in on the location. The water carried the sound from a long ways, but it was still distinguishable as dolphin speech even over the deep drone of the raging seas.

  They sang their approach across the vastness of the ocean. A small pod of six pale grey shapes drew closer, their compact bodies elegant in the water. As the dolphins neared, the ocean calmed, and Tethys let the last of her rage go. She’d never been able to remain angry in the presence of the playful ones.

  With a lighter heart, she went to meet them. The first dolphin broke rank and bolted ahead of the others. A young male, his curiosity clear by his body language and chattering clicks. He swam close enough to bump his nose against her tail before his bravery deserted him, and he darted back to the rest of his family pod.

  The other members of the family, perhaps older and wiser, held back, studying her. The young male broke rank a second time and slid closer. He continued to chatter at her, questioning what she was. She answered in kind, the clicks and whistles a language she’d mastered long ago.

  At length, she explained to the dolphin family who and what she was, and they gave her their names in turn.

  A deluge of playful greetings distracted her from other, darker questions. It wasn’t until they had hunted together and were well fed that Tethys asked about the condition of the air and water. Her line of questioning was too complex at first. The results were a mix of confusing clicks and meaningless whistles.

  She tapped the fingers of one hand along her flank and tried another question.

  “What makes the water taste bad?”

  There was more clicking and swift darting bodies as the group worked out a spokesperson.

  The young male ignored his elders’ debate and answered the siren. “The Not-Island sank.”

  “Not-Island?” She asked, hoping for something more conclusive.

  The oldest matriarch of the pod bumped the young male aside, scolding him in the process. Once she was finished, she came alongside the siren. They swam with near perfect unity for several body lengths, and then Tethys reached out a hand to rest on the dolphin’s side.

  At the contact, a confusing series of images marched through her head. A great metal monster perched out in the ocean, close to shore. Its metal roots borrowing deep into the earth’s crust.

  Above the surface, bright flames burned on the metal Not-Island. Darkness floated upon the water and impossibly, burned there too. Great poisonous clouds billowed up into the air.

  Humans had jumped from the metal island, trying to escape their own folly. The dolphin pod circled farther out, wanting to help the humans, but too afraid of the monstrous island to come near enough.

  More humans arrived in boats, rescuing their fellows. They battled the fierce blaze for a time, but it proved too much, and the heat pushed them back.

  Both humans and dolphin pod watched as the structure weakened. Then with a great, tortured groan, the whole of it twisted sideways. Pieces of debris sheared off, dropping into the water below with great splashes and much hissing of steam. Another long stretch of time passed, then finally the massive Not-Island died, collapsing down into the ocean. Like a Leviathan with its spine severed, chunks of metal piping twisted and crumpled upon themselves as it made its slow, painful way to the ocean floor.

  The fires on the surface burned out, the sounds of tortured metal ceased, and the ocean grew silent once again.

  To Tethys’ horror, she realized it was only the beginning.

  Oily black death bubbled out of the earth as if a vein had been severed, spreading an ever enlarging stain upon the ocean realm.

  For days upon days, humans had scurried about in boats. Their actions desperate and ineffectual against such an insidious enemy.

  The dolphins had stayed in the region to learn if the disaster would be contained, but the waters grew steadily more tainted, fish sickened and died or fled the area. Sea birds and other life succumbed to the black menace.

  With no other choice the dolphins abandoned their hunting grounds, following the schools of fish, and left the humans to battle their mistake.

  The siren sensed it took the humans days to stop the leak, far longer than it should have. A year passed, the ocean defused the toxins, and the humans’ clean up continued. Yet she could still taste the legacy of disaster.

  Her tail flicked with agitation and her mind filled with thoughts of hate and revenge, but she forced herself to calm as she faced the dolphin matriarch.

  The dolphins were fond of the land-bound humans for some reason she’d never been able to comprehend.

  “Where can I find knowledgeable humans? Ones with water and land wisdom?”

  “You seek searchers and studiers?” The matriarch chirped.

  Tethys nodded at the female’s question. “Yes, I require those with knowledge so I might learn from them.”

  “Friendly ones that like us. We show you.”

  Th
e dolphin darted off, angling toward the far distant shore. The siren and the rest of the pod followed.

  As they travel just under the blue mirror, the young male who had first approached her bumped her again. In a burst of juvenile enthusiasm, the youngling broke the surface and arched through the air.

  With barely a splash, he dove back in, and with three powerful tail flips he was back at her side, nudging her to play. Subduing her anger at the humans, she opened her heart to the dolphins’ joy of life. Arching her back and swishing her tail in rapid, strong strokes she clipped the young male with her tail as she darted toward the surface.

  Chirping wildly, the male gave chase. Seconds later, they broke the surface together, curving through the air before they fell back into the cool embrace of Mother Ocean.

  The rest of the pod joined in the fun of surf dancing, leaping and twisting into the air. When they tired of the game, they hunted schools of fish. All the while, the dolphin matriarch guided her family under Tethys’ watchful eye.

  Chapter Six

  From her position under a giant grandfather of a sycamore, Lillian watched Gregory pace out an invisible circle, an area roughly the size of his outstretched wings. Periodically, he glanced up from his study of the ground and eyed the surrounding trees with a simmering intensity. After two more circles of the area, he returned to Lillian’s side.

  “This location will do. Here the land’s magic is stronger than anywhere else we’re likely to find within three day’s flight.”

  “Whoa! The use of ‘we’ and ‘flight’ together in the same sentence is strictly prohibited.”

  His head cocked to the side. “You have always loved flying with me. I will help you overcome your irrational fear.”

  To cover up the rush of terror his words inspired, she tossed her hands up in surrender and then turned and stomped back to the shelter of the sycamore. The gooseflesh standing at attention all along her arms testified to the fact she wasn’t fond of riding gargoyle-back. Not to mention her hardy dislike of anything that combined speed and heights. The mere thought of flying while perched precariously upon Gregory’s back was the culmination of some unholy nightmare, only one she hoped to postpone indefinitely. “Good thing this spot will work, because there’s no way you can just go for a ‘little three day flight’ without finding yourself on the nightly news or the permanent guest in some super-secret government institution.”