Living gargoyles did exist, though they were very rare. The surly, solitary creatures lived in the far reaches of the north, and they associated with no one willingly. She'd certainly never heard of an elf comingling with one. This statue was obviously an object of fantasy for the creator as an elf would never gift a living gargoyle with a sword and clothing--it just wasn't done.
The mistress of the house of Graystone, Lady Moli, claimed the collection had once belonged to her great-great-grandmother, Lady Nia of Leavendor. According to the kitchen staff, Lady Nia was rumored to be the infamous Lady of Maragorn. The cursed lady had inhabited the Maragorn woods for hundreds of seasons until she vanished, leaving only these stone beings behind.
While Lady Moli didn't seem to appreciate the beasts any more than anyone else did, she was adamant that they be well cared for. They were dusted every other week, the room was kept warm and comfortable, and finally, the most important rule, they were never, never to be touched by human hands.
Li shuddered. She'd made that mistake only once. She'd been dusting the one she feared and her bare finger had brushed his boot. A jolt of heat had run up her arm and, at the same time, she'd heard a low unearthly moan that had made all the hair on her body stand at attention. The experience had frightened her so badly she'd run from the room, refusing to return until the sun was high the next day. In the daylight the creatures appeared harmless enough, but in the darkness they seemed to radiate a malevolence that set her on edge.
She shivered. It was still freezing in the solarium. Sometimes it seemed that this room was never really warm. It was as if the stone beasties sucked the heat out of the air.
Overhead the lightning flashed and a rumble of thunder followed. The rain fell in thick waves against the terrace and the trees swayed in the wind. This was no night for any living creature to be out and about. The sooner she got to work, the sooner she'd be safely tucked into her comfortable bed with a good book.
Thankful to be warm and dry, Li hastened to retrieve her supplies from the miniscule housekeeping closet. Armed with a generous feather duster with an extending handle, she headed for the far corner of the room to get to work.
Whenever the rain fell, Li's favorite place to be was in her bed. Memories of the night she'd been cast from Lygas were as strong today as when it had occurred. She still had troubled dreams of stumbling through the woods, cold, injured, and more alone than she'd ever been in her life.
She'd survived, though. After spending several months traveling south and living off the land, the arrival of the cold season forced her to venture into the Graystone realm. She'd mustered up her courage and knocked on the kitchen door of the main house and Cookie had answered. Within a day, Li had been hired and installed in a tiny bedroom in the attic where she'd remained for a number of seasons.
Here in Graystone she'd found the safe place she'd been looking for. She had plentiful food, a modest income, and a reason to get out of bed each day. The only thing missing from her life was male companionship.
Humming under her breath, she moved to the next set of shelves.
Her pursuit of romance had been lackluster so far. During the four seasons she'd been here she'd taken an interest in two men, both of whom she'd had high hopes for, but it just wasn't meant to be.
The first had been a kind, gentle man who was completely cowed by his overbearing mother. When the woman discovered his interest in Li, she'd immediately secured a betrothal to one of the baker's daughters.
The second man, her only lover, had been so repulsed by the scars on her back from the removal of her wings that he couldn't bear to touch her. His leave-taking last season had left a bitter taste in her mouth.
The only man who'd been consistently interested in her was Junal, and he was the one man she wanted nothing to do with. There were times, in the dark of night, when she thought she was destined to be alone.
She pushed that disturbing thought away, allowing the movement of the feather duster to soothe her nerves. She would find her husband when she least expected it. Cookie was always telling Li she was trying too hard. The older woman said she should concentrate on something else and the man of her dreams would just appear. Li didn't think she was trying too hard--she was just making herself available in case the right man should happen along.
A soft smile curved her mouth. The perfect man would be tall and handsome, with dark hair, of course. All of the heroes from her favorite books had dark hair and dark eyes. He would be kind, rich, and ride a white stallion. He would love children, be good to animals, would have excellent table manners--Cookie always said that a gentleman should have wonderful manners. And, the most important part: he'd never betray her.
Once she found him, her life would be perfect.
A massive crack of thunder caused Li to jump. With her heart thudding, she dusted faster. Right now, all she wanted was to bundle herself into her bed and get back to her book, The Tales of Rodrigo and the Milkmaid. It was an excellent tale full of romance, intrigue, and lots of kisses. What more could a woman want?
Li finished the final row of beasts, then allowed her duster to drift to the carpet. Her shoulders always ached after this tedious job. What she would give for a neck rub. She rotated her head. All she needed to do now was deal with the beasts on the mantel.
She shot a glance at him. A shiver ran down her spine. His flat beady gaze seemed to mock her fear.
She hated him, feared him, and certainly didn't want to get any closer than necessary. Maybe she should sweep the carpets first?
As the storm raged overhead, she busied herself with giving the light fixtures a quick swipe before running the hand-sweeper over the jewel-toned carpeting. She swished the duster over the sparse furniture before finally adding enough wood to the fire to keep the room warm until morning. She looked around the room, noting that everything was in its place. There was only one more task to complete before she'd be done for the night.
The mantel boasted three gargoyles, a tall one on each end and a short dumpy one in the middle. Her gaze locked on the one that bothered her most. He stared at her with shiny dark eyes and his crooked leer seemed to mock her. Summoning her courage, she walked toward it, stopping when she was several feet away. She extended the arm on her duster.
"It's not like I have to be near you to get the job done," she muttered.
She flicked the duster along the mantel, then across the creature's feet. A faint jolt of awareness ran up her arm and she stopped. It happened every time she dusted him. There was an odd sense of connection, awareness, and he was the only one this happened with. She shook her head. How can one have a connection with a cold lump of stone? It has no heart, no feelings--
Her hand stilled when her gaze met his flat black one.
For a split second she felt as if his dark gaze had pierced her soul. Ice skittered down her back. Her throat tightened and she longed to avert her gaze. She felt frozen--trapped. It was as if the essence of the stone was trying to infiltrate her mind, her body--
A massive crack of lightning startled her and she jumped. The duster swung to the side and straight into the gargoyle. To her horror, the statue tilted forward, tottered for moment, then fell off the mantel.
"Oh no!" She dropped the duster and lunged for it. The stone was cold and heavy in her hand and it sent shockwaves up her arms. Her toe caught on the edge of the hearth and she stumbled. Clutching the creature to her breast, Li fell forward against the ornate fire screen.
A scream caught in her throat when heat seared her palm. Her eyes began to tear and she dropped to her knees. Overhead, the thunder gave a tremendous crack that caused the floor to vibrate. An icy wind whipped through the room.
The sound of glass shattering heralded the arrival of the storm into the solarium. Her head came up when the room went oddly white. Thunder rolled across the sky and a mind-numbing rush of heat struck her, tearing the statue from her grip.
She cried out as a wave of pain washed over her. Something hit
her hard in the stomach, knocking the air from her lungs, and suddenly she was flying through the air. She fell with a solid thud, facedown on the floor. Her ears were ringing.
Shaking her head, she blinked several times, unable to comprehend what had happened. The solarium was in shambles around her. Furniture was overturned and one of the main ceiling panels had been destroyed, allowing the rain to fall in a steady stream onto the carpet. Broken glass littered the floor just inches from her face.
She shuddered. If she'd been standing beneath the pane when it broke she'd have been cut to pieces. She braced her hands on the floor, then moaned as her burned palm protested the pressure. Ignoring the pain, she forced herself to her knees.
Her right side ached and her hand felt as if it were on fire. She looked down. Her palm was red from the brief contact with the fire screen and it would certainly blister. She'd need to get some of Cookie's burn salve before she went to bed.
She dropped her hand. Of all the stupid things--
The beast.
Her gaze flew to the hearth searching for the creature. Was he damaged?
She struggled to her feet. Her mistress had commanded Li be meticulous in her care of the creatures and she took her duties seriously. If Lady Moli found out one of the beasts had been damaged on her watch she'd be discharged for sure.
A whimper caught in her throat when her gaze swept the floor. There was no sign of the gargoyle. Glass crunched underfoot as she hurried to the fireplace. What could have happened to him? She ran her hands over the empty spot on the mantel.
From behind, she heard a low guttural moan like that of an injured animal. Her hair stood on end and her heartbeat accelerated. Li reached for the fireplace poker. Brandishing it like a sword, she turned toward the windows.
Near an overturned armchair lay a body in a semi-fetal position. Her heart stuttered and her grip tightened on her makeshift weapon. Moving cautiously, she stepped toward the figure, taking care to avoid the waterfall in the center of the room.
The man lay on his side facing away from her. Long tangled blond hair was fanned out across the floor and she was instantly reminded of her family. She'd always coveted the pale blonde hair of her beloved sisters and stepmother.
Even from his position on the floor, she could tell he was quite tall. Long muscular legs were clad in black suede pants that were tucked into black knee-high leather boots. The shanks were decorated with ornate silver stitching.
Carved leather gauntlets with silver trim covered his wrists and forearms, and his dark green suede jerkin clung to his broad chest. This garment was trimmed with the same style of embroidery as his boots. Narrow leather straps held a quiver of arrows on his back, and beside him lay a bow.
A curious tingling began in the pit of her stomach and she licked her lips. Her gaze fixed on the silvery threads on his jacket. It was ancient Elven, she was sure of it. While a student, her best subject had been the ancient language and she was quite familiar with it.
Her gaze flicked to his face but his silky hair obscured it. Was he an elf? She frowned. If he was one of her kind, he had to be from one of the Northern tribes as she'd never seen a manner of dress quite like this. She'd also heard that some of the Northern tribes didn't have wings though she'd never seen a wingless elf. She reached for his sleeve and the moment her fingers brushed the soft leather, he moved.
A scream caught in her throat when his strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. She dropped the poker when he yanked her forward, knocking her off balance. She fell across his chest. Through the tangle of pale hair, a pair of confused blue eyes stared up at her.
"Who are you?" His voice was husky as if he hadn't used it in a while. His accent was curious, reminiscent of some of the old men from her village. "Are you a witch?"
Her tongue felt thick and she didn't trust herself to give a coherent answer. She just shook her head.
His gaze flicked over her face and she had the feeling this man missed very little. "You look like a witch."
She cleared her throat and gave him a nervous smile. "I don't think you can even see me with your hair in your face."
Li brushed his long hair away and her stomach flopped. He was, in a word, stunning. His face was slim, his skin tanned as if he'd spent a lot of time in the sun. His brows were slightly darker than his hair and his eyes were a deep, rich blue, a hallmark of the Northern clans. His cheekbones were sharp and his jaw well defined. His mouth looked firm with his lower lip slightly fuller than the top. He possessed the mouth of a true sensualist. A mouth to be kissed, a mouth made to suckle a woman's flesh--
Her cheeks heated and she shook herself from her carnal musings. "Who are you?" she squeaked.
He ignored her question. His forehead pleated and if anything he was even more handsome with his slightly befuddled expression. "I know you." His gaze locked with hers. "Don't I?"
She shook her head. She'd never seen this man before, as she'd have remembered him. He was definitely an elf and he possessed the unearthly beauty that was unforgettable. Besides, her tiny southern clan would've had no reason to mingle with a group from the North.
"You're beautiful," he said. "Possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." His voice was faint, as if he was talking more to himself than to her. He raised his hand and, light as a feather, he touched her jaw with one finger.
She froze and her gaze dropped to his mouth again. She was struck by the urge to kiss him. He had the kind of mouth that was made for kissing, touching, biting, sucking...
Her breathing deepened and she leaned forward. Her head dropped toward his.
If this was a dream, let her never wake up...
In a flash, his expression changed from slightly befuddled to comprehension. His eyes widened and he shoved her away--hard.
Li landed on her butt with a yelp, and her head connected with the edge of a table. She heard the scrape of steel, then the tip of a sword appeared before her eyes. Stunned, she looked up to see the stranger standing over her. The confused look of a few moments before was replaced by a look of complete disgust.
"Witch," he snarled.
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
Prince Nikolaz of Riverhaven felt as weak as a newborn pup. He struggled to remain on his feet while his head throbbed. His gaze was as clouded as cheap ale. He blinked, irritated when his vision didn't change much--only the very center had begun to clear. He gritted his teeth and barely resisted the urge to snarl.
Nik took a step, and the floor swayed gently beneath his feet. He was an elf who eschewed weakness, especially in himself, which made him feel more frustrated than ever. His grip tightened on the handle of his sword. The hilt was a friend--the only thing familiar in a world gone mad.
Dancing lights threatened to blind him and he squinted against the glare. He took another small step, when his foot struck something soft. He heard an indrawn breath and his gaze landed on the woman huddled at his feet. In the center of his muddied vision, the only thing that was clear was her upturned face.
Partially in shadow, long dark locks framed her heart-shaped face. Her skin was pale and her catlike eyes were a brilliant shade of emerald. Her nose was pert and her mouth, though pinched at this moment, looked plump and very, very familiar.
The infamous Lady of Maragorn--the witch who'd granted him a single kiss then cursed him for all eternity.
He stepped away, not wanting to touch her. In doing so, he lowered the blade until it pointed to her chest where her traitorous black heart beat.
"Where am I?" His vocal cords were stiff from disuse and his voice came out as a croak.
Her head jerked away as the sword hovered within an inch of her breast. Her breathing was jerky and her wide, dark gaze was fixed on the blade. Her tongue snaked out and dampened those plush lips. "Graystone, the household of Lady Moli and her husband, the steward of Graystone." Her voice was shaky.
Graystone? This place was unknown to him.
"What is this...Graystone?" He
stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
She tilted her head, her gaze was still fixed on the tip of the sword. "I don't know what you mean."
Impatient, he moved the sword closer until it grazed her breast. "How far am I from Riverhaven?"
Her breathing quickened and her voice came out like a squeak. "Riverhaven? Is that near Mohran?"
Mohran. Now that was a familiar name. The Mohran province was a rocky mountainous terrain that bordered Riverhaven to the northeast.
"Aye, it is."
"You're about two days on a fast horse from Mohran." She leaned to the side, her movements slow and measured as if she wished to get up but didn't want to alarm him by moving too fast. She stopped when his sword followed her movement. "It's to the north of here."
Two days? His head throbbed at the thought of spending two days on horseback. In his current condition he'd be lucky to survive a few hours, let alone two days in the saddle. He didn't know where he was, or how he'd gotten here. All he knew was that he needed to return to Riverhaven and his people--fast. How long had he been gone?
"I shall need a horse then. Tell me where I can find one." He lowered the sword a few inches.
Her shoulders slumped when the weapon was no longer pointed at her chest. Through tangled dark hair, she looked up at him. "You can rent one at the stable in the village."
"Rent?" He rolled this unfamiliar word over his tongue. "What is this 'rent?'"
She blinked. Her long, sooty lashes made her eyes appear overly large in her pale face. "You pay money to borrow a horse for a few hours or even a few days if you pay enough."
He shook his head and almost immediately regretted the movement as pain threatened to drive him to his knees. "No, no 'rent.'" He spoke through gritted teeth. "You will procure me a horse, immediately--the fastest this Graystone possesses."
Her mouth opened, then closed. "You want me to do what?" Her voice came out as a squeak. She shook her head. "I can't just get a horse for you. They're very expensive and I don't have the resources to do so."
PARADOX III Page 11