by Ryals, R. K.
"We are not friends," I spit.
The short man shrugs.
"So be it."
The pain that comes next is disabling, and I fall to my knees, taking Emma with me. She doesn't falter even as her knees hit the stone below.
"You banter with the gargoyle, Demon, when the labyrinth's real test is for the hybrids."
Emma's voice is strong when she faces Kunos while pulling herself up onto one knee, and I fight to push myself up as well. Under water I had beaten Kunos. He is angry, and I know it. Weakness is a tool he will use.
Kunos eyes Emma, his gaze stealthy. "You defend him easily, daughter of Enepsigos."
I manage to get one knee up even as the pain rips through me again. I fight it.
"Our fight, Kunos," I manage, and his gaze swings back to me.
He grins. "So it is. You gargoyles plague me, you know. So much more I could do in the sea if it wasn't for your kind."
I'm almost standing now despite the pain, and I try to focus on the man before me even as my vision blurs. Headaches are the worst kind of weapon. They are crippling, draining. Nausea sweeps me, and it becomes a chore keeping my head up. The muscles in my neck tense against the pain, and a dull pain forms between my shoulder blades.
"You only hate us because we're stronger," I say.
My words are weak, forced, but they are effective. Kunos' face falls, his image the blurred mirage of a man and a seahorse. I blink, and he's a man again. Pain explodes behind my eyes, and I put the heels of my hands against them, pressing hard.
"Stronger are you?" Kunos asks.
I am unable to answer, one hand going behind my back to press against the cavern's craggy stone walls. The stone soothes me, and lessens the pain. I think about the water again, about the foreign magic I battled against to save the hybrids. Water. Water and Stone.
"Emma," I say suddenly, quietly. "Get Gray and move away from me. All of you."
Emma only hesitates a moment before doing as I ordered, and I squeeze her briefly before letting her go.
"A fight then, Kunos," I say loudly, using the version of his name he claims is for close friends.
The Demon smiles, revealing sharp, yellowed teeth. I no longer think he looks like Santa Clause.
"A fight," he says with a nod.
I watch carefully from the corner of my eyes as the hybrids rally and move slowly away from me. Kunos is confident, too confident. He may have an affinity for water, and he may be in Hell, but I have allies here too in the stone and in the water.
I clench my jaw, my palms sweaty against the stone behind me as I call on both allies. The stone strengthens me and water moves back into the cavern, first a trickle that plays with the bottom of my already soaked tennis shoes, and then a swirling mass of ankle deep water. I can hear both Gray and Deidra take deep, unsteady breaths, but I ignore them. The water is mine this time. Mine alone.
Kunos steps forward, the water around his calves. It parts for him as he moves, and he eyes it affectionately.
"Really, Gargoyle? You attempt to use my own weapon against me?"
I grin. "Really, Kunos? Your weapon?"
The Demon pauses, his eyes narrowing. I can feel pain behind my eyes, but I draw on the water, letting it absorb into my skin, running up my body, it's power dampening the pain. I have the advantage. According to my training, one of Kunos weaknesses is arrogance, over confidence. My father fought him once. It was a bedtime story my mother told me as a child before I even knew what I was. The Gargoyle and the Water Demon. I know how to deter him.
The water in the cavern continues to rise, and I pull my sweatshirt over my head before throwing it aside. The weight of it had slowed me down earlier, cost us precious seconds, and I won't risk it again.
"This isn't a wrestling match, Gargoyle. I don't need to see your chest."
Kunos laughs, and I grin at his joke because I know it disarms him. My eyes move only briefly to the hybrids. I am controlling the water, and I reign it in, keeping it away from them even as it reaches my waist. Kunos has transformed into a monstrous seahorse, the water getting too high on his rotund human form for him to stand.
"Who's better looking now?" I joke.
Kunos approaches me, circling me, his body that of a seahorse, but his face still that of a man. It's disconcerting. Santa Claus he is definitely not.
"There will be no fight, Kunos," I say. "You've injured us enough. You've had your turn with the hybrids. It's over."
Kunos is confused, and I'm well aware of it. My hand reaches behind me, digs into the stone.
"I have a story for you, Demon," I say. "Once, there was a little boy whose mother used to tell him a story about a great gargoyle."
I pause, waiting for Kunos to interrupt, but he doesn't and I have to fight not to smile. It's another weakness, curiosity.
"This gargoyle loved to swim in the sea," I continue. "He spent many hours among the waves, taking strength from the water around him."
"One day, he stumbled on a small fishing boat far from shore. He didn't bother the boat, just watched it. Mortals are fascinating to gargoyles. Weak and yet blessed. We were created to protect them after all. But then, suddenly, out of nowhere, the boat begins to rock, the people on board screaming in terror. There was no storm, nothing that would cause a calm sea to furrow in rage. In confusion, the gargoyle dives and sees a large seahorse beneath the sea, his face stretched into a wicked grin."
Kuno's face brightens, the same grin I'd always imagined him having spreading across his face.
"I killed him of course," he brags.
My fingers dig into the stone hard enough to draw blood, and I smile, my grin wider and more wicked than his.
"No, Kunos. For some gargoyles are beyond even you. This gargoyle you faced was clever. Beneath the waves, there was an underwater cave, and the gargoyle called to the stone."
Kunos' eyes move to my hand now, but it is too late. The stone is mine, and it shifts beneath the seahorse, a gaping hole opening in the floor of the cave. I hold my smile even as the power weakens me. In Hell, I am not myself, but he will not know this. Kunos is pulled toward the hole, and I call on the water, using its strength to pull him under.
"The stone closed around the seahorse in the sea," I say dramatically. "For the Demon Kunopaston is good with water, but he knows nothing about stone."
And with that, I let the stone close around the Demon.
"It took many years for him to break free," I finish weakly.
I pardon the water, sending it back into crevices and secret underground pools before I finally sink to the ground, my strength drained.
My head still throbs.
Chapter 25
Emma
I have never considered myself a great reader, although I love books, but as I watch Conor slide down the cavern wall, his hand pressed against his head, I'm suddenly aware of only two things. The gargoyle and Tolkien. My adopted mother used to read to me in hospital waiting rooms. It gave us both comfort. Her voice surrounds me now, the words from a Tolkien novel sliding from her phantom lips.
"From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
My mother is a fan of fantasy and romance, even erotic romance though she'd never admit it. I only knew it because I'd found the steamy ones in a drawer by her bed. But now it is the fantasy that touches me. I'm not sure which book it comes from. The Fellowship of the Ring, I believe, but the lines suit the moment. Even as weak and tired as we are, as emotionally drained, there is hope. Our crownless have a king now in Marcas Craig. We are here to prove hybrids deserve their kingdom. We have lost two of our own. We won't let them be forgotten.
I am moving before I realize it, kneeling in front of Conor, my cool hands going against his forehead. He's always seen the bravery in me even when I didn't. He saw something in the other hybrids, and he fights for them despite his own co
nfusion. He doesn't know if he fights now on the right side, but he sees enough in us to keep trying.
He opens his eyes, and I smile at him wearily. My heart hurts, my sorrow a weight on my shoulders, but we still have to get the Spear of Destiny.
"Not bad, Gargoyle," I hear Bruno say from behind me.
Bruno lowers his hand, and I move aside. Conor's gaze meets the hybrid's, and a look passes between them before Conor accepts Bruno's hand. It's partly an offer of help and partly a handshake of camaraderie.
"Here's that all for one, one for all crap the 'king' was talking about," Lyre complains, but there is no bite to her words. Only acceptance. Weary, even hospitable, acceptance.
Conor is standing now, and he reaches for his soggy sweatshirt, using his ability with water to shove the liquid out of his clothes before pulling the shirt back over his head.
"You know, that whole dry magic thing you have going on would be really helpful right about now," Bruno says, and we all laugh tensely as Conor grins before calling the water out of our clothes as well.
"We need to move," Gray points out unsteadily, and I grimace. I'm really beginning to hate those words. And by the matching expressions surrounding me, I'm not the only one.
"How far do you think we are from the center?" I ask.
I'm honestly not sure our group can handle much more. We've met with the misleading Envy, was trapped under a wall of stone, lost Hesther, was sweet talked by a Demon marquis, was flung down a corridor of spiked gates, lost Ace, and then surrounded by water. Five obstacles, two lives lost. Five obstacles.
My head snaps up.
"One more," I say before anyone has a chance to answer me. The hybrids all look my way.
"What?" Bruno asks.
My gaze meets his, and then moves to Conor.
"We've been through five obstacles. What number is most represented in Hell?"
Understanding fills Conor's eyes even as the other hybrids inhale.
"Six," Fiona breathes.
I nod. "One more obstacle," I repeat.
"Just one more," Bruno says under his breath.
We need to move, but no one budges. We are too tired, too freaking tired.
"Bravery is facing the things we fear. Bravery is not hiding. Bravery is dealing with tears, sweat and blood when we could be at home in a dry bed under clean sheets."
It's Conor's voice that brings us out of our stupor, and he grins sheepishly as he motions toward the unforgiving darkness.
"Bravery is moving forward when it's easier to stay behind."
Bruno raises a brow. "Read that in a book somewhere, Gargoyle?"
Conor shakes his head, his eyes bright. "No. Surprisingly, I'm a philosopher at heart."
I can't help it, I laugh, and the rest of us join in. All of us except Gwenyth. It makes me remember Ace, and I sober up.
"Then I guess we move forward," I say.
We all move together. Deidra leans against me, and I lean against Conor as we walk. Gwenyth leans against a slow, exhausted Gray. Fiona and Lyre both lean against Bruno.
Conor peers down at me before glancing down the line. He smirks and then sings under his breath, the sound echoing in the tunnel.
"Lean on me when you're not strong . . ."
Deidra snorts and then giggles before picking up the tune.
"I'll be your friend. I'll help you to carrrrrry on . . ."
Fiona chuckles, her lilting voice almost haunting in the cavern.
"For it won't be long till I'm gonna need somebody to lean on."
Lyre pretends to retch.
"The three musketeers I can handle. A Demon musical is just a little too much."
Bruno grunts to show he agrees.
"Watch it, Bruno," Conor says lightly. "Girls like a guy who can sing."
Bruno throws Conor a look.
"I'll stick with sandstorms, thank you. Not much running a girl can do when trapped inside by dirt."
Conor snickers. Our jokes and laughter have an edge of desperation to them, a fight for normalcy, and we cling to it.
Bruno slows. "I know you guys are going to cringe when I ask this, but do any of you sense anything?"
We all slow our pace, searching. I feel nothing. No emotions other than the fear, sorrow, and weakness emanating from our own group.
Surprisingly, Lyre is the first one to speak.
"Metal. I feel metal," she says.
"Metal?" I ask.
Lyre shrugs. "And war."
She senses metal and war? I reach out again, my mind searching. No emotions . . . but then, maybe something.
"Emma?" Conor asks.
I shake my head.
"Maybe death," I say finally.
Gray's eyes narrow. "Does death have an emotion? I mean, what do you feel that makes you think of death?"
His voice is full of fear. It's understandable. He's still weak. Out of all of us, he suffered the most because of Kunos. I look forward, my gaze ahead.
"I feel hopelessness . . . decay? It's like a gaping hole. There seems to be an emotion one moment then nothing." I hold up two hands, indicating one palm then the other. "Emotion then nothing."
Gwenyth looks up.
"Death," she whispers.
Gwenyth and I had both lost someone bound to us. We know what sudden emptiness feels like.
"Metal, war, death . . ." Bruno repeats, his eyes going red before he faces us, his expression solemn. "Don't hold back, but stay together the best you can. Marcas Craig is right. Unity is the hybrid advantage."
Bruno looks away a moment before facing us once more.
"I don't want to let any of you down. I am who I am, and I think over the past couple of months I've learned to accept that. We have Demonic parents. So what? I think it's time for a new beginning where we are bigger than our parents, bigger than our births, bigger than life. For the first time, this road has never looked so dangerous and yet so un-lonely. I don't feel alone. It's a vast improvement to our lives before. It's a testament to those among us who won't come back."
Bruno pauses and gestures at the tunnel in front of us.
"Don't hold back."
We are all silent mainly because it's hard to see Bruno feeling much of anything other than power hungry. He's got more feelings than that. He's suffered as much loneliness as the rest of us.
Fiona places a hand on Bruno's shoulder and smiles before nodding at the tunnel. Deidra grins, her hand slipping into mine before waving at the rest of the group.
"I'm feeling the love!" she chirps.
I laugh even as Lyre shakes her head. "Imps!"
But then Lyre pauses and looks over at the short dark-skinned hybrid and smiles. The grin is devoid of sarcasm and hatred.
"I'm glad you're with us," she says.
Deidra stands taller, and I squeeze her hand before we all begin moving forward. Conor is quiet next to me, and I reach over and slip my hand into his.
He looks down and winks, one corner of his lips lifting.
"Don't hold back," he says quietly. "Words to live by."
Chapter 26
Conor
We haven't gone far when the cavern suddenly opens up. We step into a round chamber. The stone walls have been smoothed down. No craggy outcroppings, no jagged rocks, nothing to mar the perfection. I sense magic in the stone. Peace.
And there in the middle of this empty, perfectly round chamber is a boulder with the head of a spear laid out perfectly in its center. The Spear of Destiny.
It looks in fairly good condition despite its age. It's longer than I expected with the iron, or whatever metal its made out of, tarnished some by age with a rusted red stain on its tip. Blood?
The spear doesn't quite look like the images I've seen in the movies, books, or legends. It's simpler. There's nothing ornate about it. Just metal. At the butt end, it opens up some where it once connected to some sort of staff or pole or whatever it is they placed the head of spears on in ancient times.
"So simple to be so re
vered," I hear Gray say.
I have to agree with him.
"Simple maybe, but its power is great. It can destroy Demons, and its mark is always true. It also has the ability to give its wielder power."
"Can we even touch it then?" Emma asks. "Those of us with Demon blood, I mean."
I shake my head because I'm not sure.
"I would think you could since Enepsigos has it."
Bruno takes a deep breath before stepping forward.
"Only one way to find out."
We are all engrossed by the spear and Bruno when the attack comes.
There are eyes in the dim chamber--greenish, sickly gleaming eyes, coming at us out of nowhere, circling us and then . . . metal? I feel something sharp run across my side, and I cry out.
"Down!" I yell, but its unnecessary.
The rest of the hybrids are already on their knees on the floor. Bruno is holding his arm, blood seeping through his splayed fingers. I look at the other hybrids, and breathe a sigh of relief when I see no more injuries. The chamber is silent.
"What was that?" Deidra asks tremulously.
No one answers. We are all quiet, still, alert. There is no place to hide within the chamber. We are out in the open and vulnerable.
Gwenyth cries out, and I get a glimpse of gleaming eyes again before red wells up along her leg. She grasps it, her eyes wide. Gray leans over her. Her jeans are split open over the wound, and he pulls his shirt over his head before pushing it into the cut.
"It's too fast," Lyre calls out. "Whatever it is, it's too damn fast! All I saw were eyes."
We all agree. Bruno's gaze is frantic as he looks around before standing.
"Maybe I can slow it down," he says.
The room is suddenly filled with power, with wind. I don't know where Bruno gets the excess air. There must be water nearby for me to call on it. Maybe Bruno doesn't need that, but whatever it is he's using, he uses it well, causing small twisters of air that bounce around the room's interior walls. I think he's hoping the force will slow down our intruder.
There are gleaming eyes again, and I just manage to land on top of Emma when I feel my shirt split open in the back. The wound is not deep. I can tell it instantly, but there is blood, and I gasp at the soreness, at the searing pain down the middle of my back.