Peter was hauled through the crowd, but it didn’t stop him from shouting obscenities at me as they carted him away. Attention was still on me: a sea of Gypsy faces with dark expressions. The mixture of emotions I felt was like a heavy weight pressing in from all sides. I stood slowly, longing for the shadows of my hood, but my shredded jacket lay in a heap at my feet.
‘Father, he’s hurt,’ Josephine said suddenly.
I realized my right wing was jutting awkwardly from my body, and it was bleeding. The blood wasn’t red, but rather a dark, purplish-black. It dribbled down the membrane of my wing and puddled on the ground.
‘I’ll take him back to his trailer and tend the wound,’ said a voice from behind. It was Karl Corsi, the Romany’s trainer. ‘Josephine, will you go and fetch my bag? It’s just inside my door. I’m going to need some help.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied and hurried away.
Quentin’s face went taut as a bowstring. It was wrong, I knew, but I couldn’t help feeling a tiny sense of smug pleasure. Gaining a few extra minutes with Josephine was definitely worth getting my wing sliced by a crazy Gypsy.
Nicolas pulled Karl aside. ‘After you’ve treated him,’ he said in a low voice – but one that my pointed gargoyle ears could easily hear – ‘make sure he stays in his trailer. I’ll have Quentin place a guard at his door. Emotions are running high tonight, and I don’t want his presence adding to the chaos.’
‘Of course,’ Karl replied.
‘Come, Quentin,’ said Nicolas in a louder voice as he left.
The Marksman shot me a look that was sharper than the arrow he’d just pointed at my chest. Then he followed Nicolas across the clearing, his bow clutched tightly in his hands.
‘Are you in pain?’ asked Karl as he mopped my weirdly colored blood away from my wing. It was the first time I’d bled since fully becoming a gargoyle and the sight was a little disconcerting.
‘Not really. Just stings a bit.’
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived today, Sebastian, but I wasn’t expecting you to leave Hugo’s so soon. I was in town, stocking up on medical supplies.’ The old man wrung out the bloodied cloth and set it aside. ‘Although, I heard the Marksmen gave you quite the reception while I was gone.’
‘Ah well, you know,’ I said, giving a half shrug. ‘Deep down, I think they really like me. In fact, I’m sure we’ll all be great friends.’
Karl chuckled. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’
With the purple-black blood gone from my wing, I could see the extent of the wound: a long jagged rip that had separated the bottom section of one of the leathery flaps. ‘So how bad is the damage?’
‘Thankfully, it’s mostly superficial,’ he said. ‘The knife missed the bone structure. As soon as Josephine arrives with my bag, we’ll get you stitched up. You’ll be good as new.’
I held out the tattered remains of my jacket and Velcro straps that I’d brought back with me. ‘Can’t say the same for these.’
Karl set the straps aside, then studied the jacket. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take this to the costume ladies tonight.’ He tossed it near the door. ‘They’ll have it mended in no time.’
‘Thanks.’ I sat back on the cot and pulled my wings in as tight as they would go, feeling exposed on multiple levels. I hated that I’d lost control with Peter Boswell in front of the whole troupe, even if he had tried to stab me. But the crazed Gypsy wasn’t the only thing bothering me. My body trembled with leftover sparks of adrenaline, and my nose still burned with the stench of the creature the Marksmen had killed. ‘Karl, what was that thing?’
‘One of your more brutal cousins,’ he replied.
I flinched. ‘You can’t possibly think I’m related to that. It was some kind of demonic monster …’ The words fizzled on my lips as I studied the edge of my wing. ‘Okay, so maybe we do share a few traits, but it felt and smelled totally different from anything I’ve ever experienced. It was like an animal … like something straight out of one of Hugo’s art books.’
‘It was a grotesque,’ replied Karl.
I scratched my head. ‘Are you referring to its looks, or is that a name?’
‘It’s a type.’
‘I’ve never heard of them,’ I said, feeling suspicious again. ‘Hugo told me right before I left that there were other … shadowen … the Outcasts dealt with, but that was news to me. He’s never been big on talking about this stuff.’
‘Because Hugo figured you had enough to handle with your own transformation.’ Karl’s shaggy brows furrowed in thought. ‘I think he always knew you’d end up with the Romanys, despite his parents’ plans. That’s why he instructed me to stay with the Circe – so you’d have an ally here. But Hugo didn’t believe there was any point in introducing you to more shadowen knowledge until you’d first come to terms with being a gargoyle.’
‘Okay, so what are grotesques, exactly?’
‘There are three types of shadowen,’ Karl said. ‘Grotesques, chimeras, and gargoyles.’ He studied me for a long moment. ‘Surely you’re at least aware of that? You mentioned seeing similar images in Hugo’s books.’
‘Yeah, I did.’ I rubbed my eyes, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. ‘My brother has this one book. He was really touchy about it and only let me look at it once – the night he explained what I was. Everything was written in French and some other languages I couldn’t understand, and all the pictures were just drawings: statues on cathedrals, mainly.’
‘We’ve got a lot of history to cover, then.’
‘I guess so,’ I said, propping my elbows on my knees. The room was warm, and my head throbbed. ‘But could we maybe just do the CliffsNotes version right now? I don’t think my brain can handle too much more.’
The circus trainer nodded. ‘Well, the carving of shadow creatures goes back many centuries. The original designs were called grotesques, and the Old Clans believed God ordained them to protect holy places from evil. They were simple creatures, at best, fashioned after images of animals and beasts from the ancient world.’
‘But why so hideous?’ I asked, glancing at my claws. ‘If God told them they were supposed to protect holy places, why didn’t the Old Clans make some kind of, I don’t know, angelic statues?’
Karl smiled. ‘Grotesques were created to frighten away evil spirits, Sebastian. The Roma chose to fight fire with fire, so to speak. But shadowen weren’t just protectors of cathedrals. They looked after those of Roma blood as well: a gift to my people for all the persecution we’d suffered over the years.’
I turned my attention to the window. Most of the Gypsies had retreated to their trailers, but I could see the dark forms of Marksmen patrolling the grounds. ‘So what happened, Karl? If your people created them, then why are they attacking you?’
‘Because our ancestors became greedy,’ replied Karl with a scowl. ‘They sought to use this gift for their own personal gain, for conquest and dominance. Soon, blood feuds divided our clans. More shadowen, like the cunning and vicious chimeras, were created. Rather than protectors, shadowen became weapons. But the creatures became too beastly – impossible to manage. War followed and led to the Sundering of the Clans. Though the Outcasts fled Europe, we couldn’t fully escape our past. We continue to endure the consequences of delving into powers beyond our control.’
I frowned. ‘So how do gargoyles fit into all this?’
‘Gargoyles were our ancestors’ saving grace,’ he replied. He leaned forward and placed his hand on my shoulder. ‘They battled the chimeras and grotesques that turned on our people. They became our true guardians. But that was long ago, and much has changed. Not everyone shares the same beliefs regarding shadowen these days.’
‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’
Karl searched my face. ‘You’re taking all this remarkably well, Sebastian. I’m impressed. You do realize that it’s not going to be easy for you, living here?’
‘Hey, it can’t be any harder than picking steak out of my teeth. Y
ou should see what these babies can do to a spool of floss.’
Karl laughed and scratched his beard. His expression turned thoughtful. ‘Speaking of food, how is your appetite these days?’
‘Hungry,’ I answered. ‘A lot.’
‘Hmm.’
My brows lifted. ‘Hmm?’
Karl waved his hand. ‘But back to what I was saying, about living here—’
‘I’ve made my decision,’ I said firmly. ‘But honestly, I don’t see how I’m going to do much good. Quentin and his men seem to have everything under control, and they know more about this shadow world than I do. Not to mention the fact that they’re keeping guards posted at my door.’
‘Give it time, Sebastian. You’ve only been here a few hours, you know.’
I paused for a moment. ‘Karl, what do you know about my … I mean, where I came from? Hugo said his parents wouldn’t tell him. Or he was keeping something from me. It’s impossible to tell with him.’
‘Your origins are a mystery, Sebastian.’ Karl regarded me carefully. ‘Hugo was telling the truth about that. Shortly after his parents arrived, Hugo contacted me, wanting as much information as I could glean about shadowen. So I began researching – collecting books, speaking with other clans as the Circe traveled, rereading everything my grandfather left to me – but it hasn’t been easy. After the Outcast clans split from the Old Clans most of the information was either destroyed or hidden away.’
‘Why?’
‘Someone with the ability to not only awaken but also control shadow creatures could easily rule the Outcast realms,’ he replied. ‘Only a select few from each clan are entrusted with pieces of our old lore. I believe Hugo’s parents went into hiding to guard that knowledge, like my own grandfather did when I was a boy. Knowledge is a potent thing, just as willing to be used for evil as for good. But until Zindelo and Nadya return, I’m afraid the truth of your origins will remain with them.’
‘Well, Nicolas seems to know things,’ I said. Karl surprised me by laughing, and I frowned. ‘He’s the bandoleer, right? He’s the one who asked me to come here, and he knew about the brand and sclav and everything.’
‘The leadership doesn’t know as much as they would like the clan to believe. You see, all official records of the shadowen as well as our written histories are kept by the High Council.’
‘But you just said—’
‘Yes,’ Karl said, cutting me off. ‘I have my own limited collection of shadowen knowledge. Why else do you think the Romanys allow me to stay here? I’m an asset to them, just like you are.’
I pondered this in silence. Outside, I could hear voices as people hurried through the caravan. ‘So what is this divano thing, exactly?’ I asked as I watched a few Gypsies duck into the Romany trailer. ‘And why’s it all so secretive?’
‘It’s a meeting of our ruling body,’ said Karl with a shrug. ‘Every clan has a bandoleer, but there are leaders and elders that assist him. If matters can’t be resolved in the divano, or if the issue is severe enough, a kris may be called.’
‘Kris?’
Karl moved to the sink and washed his hands. ‘Think of it as a kind of Gypsy court.’
I frowned. ‘Are you a part of it?’
‘Membership is rather selected, and I’m Corsi, remember?’
‘So I shouldn’t be expecting an invitation in the mail anytime soon.’
‘I wouldn’t count on it.’
I allowed my gaze to return to my wounded wing. I didn’t like looking at the leathery things with their strange framework of bones and joints, but I couldn’t exactly ignore them either. I expanded them slightly, feeling the power of the muscles I’d acquired when I’d transformed. I cleared my throat awkwardly. ‘Karl?’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you know what happens to a gargoyle after he’s been sealed to a Gypsy?’
The old circus trainer settled into the chair. ‘How do you mean?’
I gathered myself and plunged ahead. ‘Hugo pretty much kept me confined to the shop since all this happened. He said it was to give me time to adjust, but Esmeralda thinks being cooped up hasn’t been good for me, that it’s kept me in some kind of limbo.’
Karl leaned forward, his wrinkled face alert and curious. ‘Go on.’
‘The last few weeks, something’s been going on with me.’ I puffed out my cheeks and released the air in one quick breath. ‘And it’s a lot more than just my appetite. I’ve been feeling more … well, just … different. Do you think it’s because the Romanys are back in Sixes?’
‘It’s very likely,’ mused Karl, stroking his beard. ‘A guardian and his charge were never meant to be so far apart. And you were separated immediately after the sealing took place. It could have affected your development. Now that you’ve found yourself near Josephine again, perhaps—’
The door opened suddenly and Josephine stepped inside. She was carrying a large black bag, the kind classic movie doctors used when making house calls. My pulse quickened at her presence. I’d spent months conditioning myself to her absence. Now she was here, flesh and blood – and back in my life. I took shallow breaths to reduce that mixture of flowers and spices that I now knew I’d recognize anywhere, but the temperature in the room kicked up several degrees, despite my efforts.
‘Just bring it over here,’ Karl said as he rolled up his sleeves.
Josephine placed the bag beside the chair and sat next to me on the cot. I kept my eyes on the old trainer, focusing on his actions. Karl popped open the bag and pulled out a silver case lined with intricate designs. Inside the case was a small sewing kit. But the needle looked odd, and the spool of thread was silver in color. With an expert’s hand, Karl measured a length of line and cut it with a pair of glittering scissors. He threaded the needle.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
I’d never been to the doctor before, but I’d seen enough television. ‘Don’t you have to sterilize the equipment first?’ I was feeling uneasy at the sight of the sparkling needle and thread. ‘Or my skin?’
‘You don’t require any of those human precautions, Sebastian.’ He held the needle out, turning it to catch the light. ‘There’s only one thing that can pierce a gargoyle’s skin.’
‘Diamonds,’ breathed Josephine, staring at the needle in wonder.
My stomach did a weird flip. ‘The needle and thread are made out of diamonds?’
‘Coated with the substance, to be more accurate,’ Karl replied. ‘The Outcast clans perfected the process over the centuries, but it’s very difficult.’
My eyes widened. ‘So the Marksmen’s weapons—’
‘Are made the same way,’ Karl finished. ‘After all, diamonds are harder than stone, are they not?’ He gestured pointedly at my gray skin.
‘So I’ve heard.’
‘Now, Josephine,’ said the old trainer, ‘if you’ll hold Sebastian’s wing steady, I’ll get him fixed up.’
Apart from Karl, I’d never allowed anyone to examine my wings since my transformation, let alone touch them. I felt strangely embarrassed as Josephine’s hands gripped the edges of the leathery membrane. My arms sprouted goosebumps. I didn’t dare risk a glance at the Gypsy girl, so I watched Karl carefully as he stitched up my wound.
With each stinging pass of the needle, I felt more uncomfortable, but it didn’t take Karl long to repair the rip. With a quick snip of the scissors and a knotting of the thread, he was finished. He wiped the needle clean and replaced everything in the silver case. Then he handed it to Josephine to put away.
Karl rolled his sleeves back down. ‘The diamond thread in your wing may be a little annoying, but based on my knowledge of gargoyle physiology, you should be completely healed in a matter of hours. We’ll take it out, then.’
I looked up, a question forming on my lips that had been plaguing me for the last few minutes. ‘Karl, what does it take to … to kill me?’
‘Well, you know you can be wounded. And you feel pain.’ His gaze drifted to the do
or, and he lowered his voice. ‘Shadowen can kill other shadowen. But diamonds are the only human weapons that can do permanent damage to your kind. They can pierce your flesh and, once a diamond blade gets through your gargoyle skin, you’re as vulnerable internally as any other living creature.’ He put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Fortunately for you, weapons fashioned in this way are hard to come by and generally entrusted only to those of Marks’ blood. That’s why this clan has been so well protected for so long.’
‘What about Peter Boswell?’ I asked, remembering his glittering knife.
‘Stolen, most likely.’ The circus trainer’s eyes narrowed. ‘Fear of the unknown can make people do irrational things, Sebastian. You have the approval of Nicolas and many of the council, but things are unstable. Give it time, and I believe the others will come to accept you. But until then, play things safe.’
Karl filled a glass of water from the sink and handed me two red pills. I eyed them suspiciously. ‘What are these?’
‘You can trust me, Sebastian,’ Karl said. ‘They contain a very low dosage of vitamin D.’ I recoiled, remembering the nasty shots Hugo had used to sedate me. Karl read my expression and shook his head. ‘No, not like you received before. These will take the edge off the pain and help you sleep. Nothing more.’
I closed my fingers around the pills. ‘All right.’
‘Well, my work here is done,’ he said with a satisfied smile. ‘I’ll come by in the morning to check on you.’ He retrieved my tattered jacket from the floor. ‘And I’ll have this mended.’ He opened the door and was gone.
I placed the pills and water on the small nightstand. Josephine shifted beside me, and I jerked, startled, as I realized we were alone. I bit my lower lip between my sharp teeth, too afraid to move, scared that she would stand and follow Karl out. But she didn’t. She didn’t say anything either. We both stared at the wall. I slid my thumb over my wrist, and I saw Josephine watching the movement out of the corner of her eye.
‘So,’ I said, ‘how’ve you been?’
The question hung absurdly in the air. Josephine made a noise that was almost a laugh, followed by a heavy sigh.
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