Gargoyle Rising

by Meraki P. Lyhne

  “I have no idea what that means,” Meino said, wondering how it could be his soul witnessing something if the ghost could be seen with his eyes.

  “Ms. Theresa once said something about it being a vibrational level talking to another and similar vibrational level. Maybe a Gargoyle is a different one.” Coira shrugged. “There are even humans who can’t see them.”

  Meino hoped he was one of them. But he also thought he’d better just get used to all the supernatural stuff, and maybe being able to see ghosts would help him do just that.

  Burkhart put a hand on Meino’s. “I promise that you have no reason to fear them.”

  Meino turned his hand to take Burkhart’s, still amazed by the softness and warmth. “How do you know, if you can’t sense them?”

  Burkhart smiled. “Because I sense anything that is a threat, ghosts and magic alike, and nothing here is of any danger to any of you.”

  It somewhat calmed Meino.

  “Do you sense fear?” Ethan asked Burkhart.

  “Yes. It vibrates in my being.”

  “Like a jackhammer going off?”

  “Yes. I have found out that it is most pronounced with Meino, since he gave me breath.”

  “Hmm.” Ethan worried his bottom lip, looking half lost in thought.

  Jenny yawned loudly. “And this is why I love beer. Makes me relax.”

  Ethan snickered. “Until you’ve had three, then you’re not exactly lax anymore.”

  Jenny joined his snickering. But Meino had to agree with Jenny—a beer really did help the body relax, and he tried to suppress the contagiousness of the yawn. He failed.

  “How did you sleep in the truck?” Burkhart asked.

  “First ten hours, I was out like someone flipped a switch. Since then, not so much.”

  “Don’t stay up for me.”

  “But what will you be doing?”

  “Talking to my siblings. They have many questions.”

  Meino hadn’t even considered that, and he felt thoughtless for it. “I’m sorry, you’re right. You should have some time with them, too.”

  “I will still stay with you. But tomorrow, after the sun sets, will you come to the roof with me and say hello?”

  “Of course. I hate heights, but I’m safe with you. I just have to get used to it by pushing my boundaries.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Jenny said, smiling. “Speaking of spirits... wanna go test our abilities to push our boundaries when it comes to ghosts?”

  Meino laughed. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

  The maid chuckled and finished her beer. She then collected the empty bottles on the tray. “I’ll be right back.”

  “How many Gargoyles are there here?” Meino asked.

  “Eight, not counting myself.”

  “Is that like a magic number?” Jenny asked. “Because that’s what my mentor has on his property.”

  “There were five of you in the crypt,” Meino said.

  “Not a magical number, no. But we form a strong bond at eight. It’s what allows us to see so far when together. We were eight on the grounds we protected.”

  The maid returned and showed them from the salon before Meino’s tired brain formed a follow-up question. Burkhart ushered them all to precede him from the room and followed behind Meino as they made their way through the castle’s halls and corridors.

  Other than still keeping his eyes on everything that moved, be it a draft causing a curtain to shift, Meino wondered how long it would take to be able to find his way around the place without a guide.

  The wide paneled corridors were full of antiquities and portraits of long-dead people who all stared at them. Several of them looked like they were looking down their noses at the beer-drinking commoners in jeans, and Meino felt the need to glare back at them.

  Further ahead, the corridor opened up.

  “Oh, hell no!” Jenny stopped short. “I’m gonna completely lose my cool if it starts wailing.”

  “If what? Come on, killer, pull yourself together,” Ethan said, grinning.

  Jenny pointed across the overpass. “Fine, spook, then you go say boo to it.”

  Meino snickered at the two and moved closer to the overpass. Once he reached the opening, he saw that the gangway crossed the huge two-story library to the corridor on the other side. A woman in a white dress ran across the room... in the middle of the air. Meino jumped. “That’s... no!”

  “Right?” Jenny turned to stare at him.

  “This one won’t say anything,” Coira said. “I wasn’t that cool about it the first time I saw her. I nearly shat myself.”

  “One, you were a kid. But... then we’re still cool?” Meino asked, glancing at Jenny, who nodded.

  “Do we have to pass?” Jenny asked.

  “Unfortunately. Since the fire that destroyed the overpass the Lady Brina Gillespie walks, this is the only pass to the bedrooms.” Coira smiled sweetly.

  “Gillespie?” Jenny asked, gaping. “I’d be haunting whoever gave me a name like that, too.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Ethan exclaimed. “You’d haunt someone for putting vanilla extract in your coffee—hell, you promised fire and brimstone on some poor kid with acne for missing a scoop in your triple red eye three weeks ago.”

  “Oh, Ethan, you’re so hung up on details.”

  “Spook,” he said, pointing to himself as if he’d just pointed out the most obvious thing in the world.

  Meino slapped a hand over his mouth to smother a laugh, but he figured out exactly why he feared Jenny. It wasn’t the fact she was trained by, among others, the deadly and emasculating Ms. Stephanie, but because the young woman had enough confidence to singlehandedly break balls of... what had David called them? Howler monkeys? Yeah, the young woman could squish balls on that kind by the dozens.

  And Lady Brina Gillespie ran across the no longer existing gangway again.

  “Let’s just... where does she go?” Meino asked. “I mean, once she crosses? Does she run through the halls on the other side?”

  “Just one. She runs into Ms. Theresa’s office.”

  “Why?”

  “Because her husband jumped out the window.”

  “Is he a ghost, too?” Jenny asked.

  “No.”

  “No ghosts in our rooms, right?”

  “No.” Coira laughed. “Ms. Theresa made sure you weren’t housed anywhere near the three. You shouldn’t even be able to hear the slamming door.”

  “Where are the other two?” Ethan asked.

  “One is in the kitchen. We’ve had to close off that room, actually. It’s a maid who died in childbirth. She carried the illicit child of the heir to this place. Speculations always persisted that the old duchess had the maid and the wee child killed to save face. You see, her oldest son had just been married to his cousin. The last ghost, the one slamming doors, is in the east wing.”

  “Why so many ghosts here?” Jenny asked. “I mean, I’ve heard of ghosts in the Order but never this many or—” the ghost raced across again— “this active.” Jenny glared at the figure as it disappeared through a wall.

  “This castle is built very close to a ley point.” Coira held out her hand. “Shall we?”

  Jenny began walking, and the rest followed.

  “What’s a ley point?” Meino asked.

  “Ley lines are very intense streams of energy running inside the Earth,” Burkhart said. “Where these lines cross, a nexus of immense energy exists. All Gargoyles are born on ley points to direct the energy. Think of Angelic energy as the sperm, the stone from the Earth as the egg, and the nexus as the womb.”

  “So the ghosts are here because the energy keeps them here?” Meino asked.

  “No, little one, the energy is what allows you to more easily pick up on them. They are stronger here because the energy of the nexus reflects them that much stronger.”

  “But you can’t see them?”

&nb
sp; “No. But I can sense other things that you can’t, because my soul energy is different from yours and thus lets me connect to different energies.”

  “Like... forget I asked.” Meino wasn’t sure he could handle any more at the moment. He just wanted to reach his room and sleep. If he could forget the fact that there were ghosts in the castle, that was.

  “Meino and Burkhart. This is your room.” Coira opened the door and led them into a bedroom big enough to hold a four-poster bed, a fireplace where the flames were already crackling and eating away a few logs, and a small seating arrangement consisting of a table and two leather armchairs facing the fire. Heavy drapes covered the two windows, and a door ajar let Meino glimpse the edge of a toilet bowl.

  “Thank you. Where will Jenny and Ethan be?”

  “Next door.” Coira pointed further down the hall.

  “Good night.” Jenny smiled and waved, as she and Ethan continued out, and Coira closed the door behind her as she left.

  Meino turned to face the fire, stepping closer to be able to feel the heat.

  “I can keep it going through the night if you need me to.”

  “You never feel cold, do you?”

  Burkhart smiled and stepped up behind him, placing his big hands on Meino’s shoulders to rub them gently. “Once I didn’t. Since you gave me breath, I have come to physically sense things I never have before. Like a touch. When you climbed on me as a child, it felt different from when you touch me now.”

  “Why do you call me little one?” Meino asked and turned to face Burkhart. “Is it because you remember me as a child? Do you still view me as a child?”

  “No.”

  Meino leaned his head back to look up at the great looming figure with the sweetest smile on his handsome face. And the words little one stung even more, making Meino look away. “I’ve never been as tall as my cousins. Never as well-built as the men in the magazines, and...”

  “Meino, what are you trying to tell me? I don’t understand your references, or why you’d look away when... oh. I insulted you.” He sounded hurt by the realization, and that hadn’t been Meino’s intention.

  “No.” But it was a lie.

  “Why do I call you little one? Because you smiled so brilliantly when your father called you his little explorer.”

  That’s it, my little mechanic. You’re gonna do great if you keep practicing. It was probably imaginary, but Meino could still hear his dad’s voice.

  “Little. I was always little... something,” Meino said, not really knowing where his thoughts were taking him.

  “But now you are great at something,” Burkhart said.

  “Like what?”

  “You built your own business.”

  “I built what my dad had,” Meino stated.

  “But you made it your own. Or did you never love what you had, what you did, what you built?”

  “How do you...” But Meino couldn’t finish the sentence. What did he want to ask? How someone made from stone could have such an insight? Because Burkhart had definitely hit the nail on the head with that question. Yeah, Meino loved it. He was proud, and it was more than wanting to be like his dad. If his dad had been a gardener, Meino wouldn’t have followed. Unless green thumbs were genetic. Maybe black thumbs... well, fixing cars, maybe that was a genetic trait as well.

  “I remember your father very well, Meino. You honor him by remembering him. You sometimes quote him to your customers. But you have built so much on your own, grown so much on the foundation he gave you, and you’ve set your own course. He may once have told you to seek out what you don’t know and be brave enough to try again, but you’re the one who sought these things out, you’re the one who kept trying once he had to let go of your hand.”

  “I became a mechanic.”

  “And you sought out the solution to your problem of being alone. You breathed life into me.”

  Meino looked up into the so livid pools of stone. He could barely believe they weren’t organic.

  “He showed you where to look. You dug it out, you fought for it, and it took you almost twelve years, but you uncovered what people have been looking for, for almost a century. You didn’t copy that from your dad.”

  Meino’s throat constricted at the praise. “You think so much of me, Burk.”

  “And you, little one, think too little of yourself.”

  And there was that word again. “So why call me little?”

  “Size is not what makes us great. You are great because of what you’ve accomplished with your life. I call you little one because I like... holding you. Since the first time you snuggled up to me in the crypt and declared that you were safe there.”

  Meino let his forehead fall to rest against Burkhart’s chest.

  “What else do you like? What else do you feel?”

  Even though Burkhart had no lungs or need to breathe, his chest still rose and fell with the sound of wind, as if he’d heaved a contented sigh. Or was it all the ghost business and supernatural things that made Meino imagine things?

  “Since you gave me breath, many things have changed for me. Once I didn’t feel cold at all. Now I can distinguish temperatures. When I flew tonight, I wondered if you could be comfortable up there. I remember not being able to distinguish temperature the same way when I flew you away from the fire breathers coming to your home. I fear I may have neglected your human need for certain comforts that first night.”

  “Well, I’m comfortable about being alive, so I’m okay with that one.”

  “I have come to recognize other feelings. I think they were just dormant in me.”

  “Like what?” Meino felt more curious than tired, so he backed up to one of the armchairs and sat. Burkhart crouched in front of him on a huge pelt and ran his fingers through it. Meino wondered what animal it was from and scooted to the floor to sit on the big skin.

  “Once, I would never consciously have understood the difference between coarse and soft, just like I couldn’t tell the difference between heat and cold. I couldn’t feel the rain on me nor the wind ripping over the roof of the house I sat and watched from. Now I can.”

  Meino reached out to stroke Burkhart’s arm. The Gargoyle watched his hand. Then Meino gently scratched a fingernail down the area he’d just caressed. “Do you feel the difference?”

  “I detect a touch. Not much more, I’m afraid. Yet I can now contemplate the broad spectrum of what humans talk about when they mention how things feel. So many are physical. There are many emotional ones I understand, like your pride in making your parents proud. I wish to make the Angel who made me conscious proud. I wish for my charges’ gratitude. It soothes something deep inside me. Something I can’t explain.”

  Meino thought he understood that feeling—it was the one he had when he worked on the Charger alone. To see what he accomplished a bit at a time. To see it evolve. It wasn’t the goal, but the journey and the part about taking pride in every step. It was the feeling of being happy and content with doing his best for no one else but himself. Yeah, it was also linked to some sense of wanting his parents’ approval and them being proud of what he’d accomplished, but he’d never be able to show them and hear them say you did well, son. It was ultimately for himself he did it.

  Meino moved closer to lean against Burkhart. He liked the castle, minus the ghosts. But right there, sitting on a pelt in front of the fireplace, was soothing after so many nights on the run where he’d been cold when turning in after a long day and walk.

  He smiled at feeling safe and warm, and he fell asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Packing the last of her stuff from her room at school left Rebecca with a sense of insecurity. Would she be returning, or had she messed up so bad that she would no longer be trusted to finish that particular assignment? Father had said she would be sent back to the team once she had stilled herself enough to hear God, but... what if she couldn’t hear him?

  The last t
hing she packed was the crucifix, just like it had been the first thing she always unpacked and hung.

  Someone knocked on the door, and she opened it ajar to peep out.

  It was Tavi. He offered up a sad smile. “You ready?”

  “Yeah, I’m all packed up.”

  “Can I give you a hand? Carry your bag?”

  Rebecca smiled appreciatively and let him take the heavy one down the stairs. They walked in silence for a while, and she was grateful that he didn’t try to fill it with idle conversation. She’d had two missions at the school—furthering her education and finding the Collectors’ apprentices—and she would sorely miss the education part. She loved it there. At least that stood clear as they walked the long stretch from the dorms to the visitor’s parking lot. The grounds were so beautiful and tranquil at any season.

  “He won’t take you off the mission completely, you know,” Tavi said after a while.

  “Did Father say something to you?”

  “Well, yeah, but not in so many words.” Tavi stopped to face her under one of the lamp posts. “I won’t tell you that I condone what you did, and I’m sad you didn’t talk to me before you did something, but... we’re only human, and we make mistakes. And you know Father has never been angry for long. He forgives.” Tavi cupped Rebecca’s face and smiled with all the sincerity she needed.

  “Thank you, brother.”

  “Now. Let’s get you to the car.”

  They continued, and Rebecca spotted the familiar car waiting for her. There were more cars than were usually present at that time. She wondered whether it had to do with Professor Gershman’s death. He’d been a sweet old man, and Rebecca had cared a great deal for him. She was sorry she wouldn’t be able to pay her last respects when the school held the memorial service. He would be in her prayers, though.

  The driver got out when he saw them. She didn’t recognize him, but with the size of their army, it was no wonder. An unknown face was nothing new. The man helped Tavi put her belongings in the trunk, and she hugged her brother before she got into the car.