by K. F. Breene
Damarion stiffened, probably because I’d mentioned Austin first. I ignored it.
“First things first—we will find that basa…bas…”
“Basajaun,” Mr. Tom said.
“Right, we’ll find the hairy creature and ask him where to find the lower entrance to the cave. That should help us track them.”
“Excuse me, Jessie, but—”
I held up a hand for Damarion. “I heard about you trying to talk him around. I’ll approach it a different way.” I turned to Edgar, surprised when he flinched and covered one of his eyes. “Edgar, please go grab me the best bundle of fresh flowers you can procure. Your very best.”
“Basajaun eat meat, Jessie,” Edgar said. “I’m sure I can find a haunch of pig or something…”
“Chocolate isn’t strictly necessary for my survival, Edgar, but on occasion I’d gnaw off your hand to get some.”
He pressed the hand not covering his eye a little tighter to his chest.
“We’re going after them now?” Niamh hadn’t moved to put on pants.
“Yes. Now. They’ve had two days to come up with another plan. I don’t want to wait for them to spring it.”
Gargoyle wings flapped above the street, flying low, coming from town. They’d beelined here instead of flying over the woods like we’d agreed. They were too big to be bats—any non-magical folks who were up at this hour would probably call the cops.
“Get them inside.” I waved my arm and motioned them toward Niamh’s house, the closest available enclosed space.
“No, no, not in here! They’re gargoyles. They think they’ll melt if they take a shower.” She waved them away.
Mr. Tom puffed out his chest. “That is an old wives’ tale, and your refusal to allow them into your house is discrimination. Really, woman, in this day and age?”
“The younger ones are a little ripe,” Edgar said solemnly. “It isn’t their species, of course, but just a lack of overall hygiene. Younger guys, you know—sometimes they’d rather not bother washing up. Niamh has a large collection of doilies in her house. They tend to trap smell. Then again, should we need to burn them, I can always furnish her with more. My newest batch—”
“Fine, put them in the back.” I stepped onto the bright green front yard that Edgar must’ve made it his duty to keep up and directed them like I might an airplane. “Thanks for coming, guys. Just head back there, if you don’t mind. We’ll be with you in a moment.”
“I’m a little lost. What’s the plan?” Ulric asked.
“I can’t allow you to approach that basajaun,” Damarion said, his hand gently settling on the swell of my butt. I stepped away. Clearly we needed to talk. Now was not the time.
I felt Austin on the property, cutting through the woods and across the back lawn.
“Edgar, go get those flowers. Hurry.”
“Yes, Jessie.” He took off running, a strange sort of hunched lope with his elbows flared out, his long fingers dangling at his sides, and his head bobbing animatedly with each step.
“I hate to criticize, Jessie…” Niamh said, watching him go.
“If you couldn’t criticize, you’d never utter a word,” Mr. Tom said.
“…but you might’ve given that old vampire the gift of youth. Or even just shaved off a few years so he wouldn’t look like such a muppet when he runs. I don’t think his limbs work quite right. Look at the state of him!”
Austin loped around the house, passing Edgar, before he stopped and shifted into his human form. He stalked toward us, crossing the grass and then the street, like a predator about to take down a kill.
I put out my hand to tell him not to mess with Damarion, but I didn’t need to. He gave Damarion a wide berth, clearly pushing aside their differences because of the situation.
“What’s the plan?” Austin asked, having stopped in the place Edgar had just vacated.
“Find anything?” Niamh asked.
Austin shook his head, his gaze roaming my face and then body, probably sizing up the state of my health. His skin had the same waxy quality as mine, his freckles or sun spots also burned away, and his face looked a few years younger. Clearly we’d lost our top layer of skin and were still in process of growing a second coat, as it were. I hoped I’d never have to do it again.
“All the strangers around town have checked out,” he said. “I have people working on checking the neighboring towns. The communities are small, so we should get some information soon.”
I gave them a quick rundown about the basajaun as Edgar hurried back with the bouquet.
“I’m going to attempt to fly there.” I took a deep breath. “I might not make it all the way, though. I didn’t do great the other day.”
“It was your first flight, but you held a mountain of muscle with those tiny wings,” Ulric said, and I frowned about the wings comment. I didn’t think they were that small. “You did great.”
“I will carry you when you need it, but we should not approach that basajaun, Jessie.” Damarion moved closer. “It is—”
“I’ll follow in my other form.” Austin didn’t need to step toward me—he pulled my attention to him. Mine and everyone else’s. “We’ll be prepared to extract you if that basajaun decides you aren’t so fun to chat with when you’re out of your cage.”
“This is a mistake,” Damarion said.
“Doing nothing is a mistake,” I said. Niamh disappeared into the house, and I called after her to grab a bag. “Waiting for them to trap me again is a mistake. Striving to protect myself is not a mistake. That basajaun will talk. Get ready to catch me if I fall out of the sky, though. That’s the only part of this plan I’m not real sure about.”
28
Niamh touched down on the mountain right after an exhausted Jessie, who still looked great despite it. She had that beautiful, swirly magic streaking the air behind her wings, the effect incredible. Female gargoyles were worth all the fuss. If only Jessie could get her magic working like it should, she’d be on fire.
All they needed was time. After this, hopefully they’d have a little of it.
If not for Austin Steele, they would’ve already lost her, Niamh had no doubt about that. They would probably still be searching for the lower cave opening, long after the team of mages had already moved her.
Faster than the males, Jessie changed into her human form and then sank to her hands and knees, panting with fatigue. With a thrum of wings, the male gargoyles landed all around them, Damarion changing immediately so he could go to her.
He clearly hadn’t gotten the—pretty obvious—hints that Jessie had been throwing out all morning. Whatever that gargoyle had done the other day, he’d completely lost her interest. Niamh could not wait to hear the story.
First, though…business.
Trees crowded in around them, cutting off their view, and hopefully the view of anyone in the area. That big ol’ basajaun could smell them, though, if it was around. Those things had sharp senses and mean tempers. Niamh did not want to tangle with one of them. She almost couldn’t believe Austin Steele was going along with this plan.
Then again, Austin Steele had changed. The shift had been subtle at first—Niamh honestly hadn’t noticed it—but it had been as blatant as the nose on her face since the incident at the cave.
Something had clicked over for him. A switch had been flipped. He’d become more of an active leader—and not in the chest-beating sense. He was confident, strong. He didn’t bother with Damarion anymore. It was like he’d stopped seeing the gargoyle as a threat. Niamh was very curious as to why.
There came the huge polar bear now, slinking in between two trees, stopping to stare as Damarion helped Jessie to her feet.
“Here.” Earl handed Niamh’s clothes over. “Though I’m not sure we should put them on. I fly faster than I run.”
“That ol’ basajaun isn’t gonna chase us. If it chases anyone, it’ll be Austin Steele or Damarion. Just trip one of those younger gargoyles to put more people
between yerself and the beast, and cut in the opposite direction the others do. Ye’ll be grand.”
“Why Ivy House ever pegged you for a team player, I do not know,” Earl muttered, shrugging into soft white sweats.
“Neither do I.” Niamh put on her shirt. That oughta be good enough. Her lack of pants earlier hadn’t seemed to bother Jessie terribly much. Earl was right, though she hated admitting it—running was not the way she wanted to go if that ol’ basajaun got pissed.
“I’m good, I’m good.” Jessie pushed Damarion away. “Thank you. Ulric, do you have those flowers?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ulric pulled forward the somewhat crushed bouquet of flowers. Stuffing them in his clothes bag probably hadn’t been the best of ideas.
“Thanks,” she said distractedly, taking the flowers and glancing back at Austin Steele. “Are we in the right area?”
He huffed affirmatively, and then worked around the gathered gargoyles, slipping through the trees and padding over the slushy snow that hung around this high up. Dark clouds slid across the sky, promising rain, sleet, or more snow. At this altitude, maybe all three. Flying in that wouldn’t be much fun. For Jessie, it would be downright life-threatening. She’d need to accept Damarion’s help, although it was sure to be an awkward flight.
“Are you sure about this?” Earl asked Jessie as he caught up to her, his wings fluttering behind him in the wind.
Niamh pushed through the gargoyles to get to Jessie’s other side. “Given enough time,” she said, “we can find that other cave opening, Jessie. Ye don’t have’ta—”
“It’s fine. Honestly, this guy—basa… Why can’t I remember that name?”
“Bigfoot,” Earl said. “Dicks and Janes call them Bigfoot.”
“Right. He mentioned something about that. He doesn’t like being called a Bigfoot, though, since those aren’t real. Honestly, I’ve never even heard of the basa…” She huffed. “I think it’ll be fine. The reason I left Edgar home is so I could trade every edible thing on Ivy House property if need be. I think he’ll go for it.”
Austin Steele stopped and looked back at Jessie.
A trickle of adrenaline seeped into Niamh’s blood. They were here. They were about to see if the basajaun would meet Jessie calmly, or if he’d take one look at the army of gargoyles and the shifter he’d already turned down and raise hell.
“Get ready to run,” Earl whispered.
29
“Stay back,” I said, really hoping I hadn’t made a grave mistake, since everyone else seemed really put off by this creature. “Everyone stay back.”
“This is a fool’s errand,” Damarion said through clenched teeth, pushing up between Niamh and Mr. Tom, who were drifting backward. “That creature has incredible strength. More so than me or the bear. It will tear you limb from limb. Reconsider.”
“No. You weren’t stuck in that cage, helpless,” I said, fire rising through me. “I hated that feeling. I never want that feeling again. I will find those mages. That basa…ha…oon?”
“Very close. Good work.” Mr. Tom gave me a thumbs-up.
“He knows the location of the cave mouth.” I continued forward, my hand clenched around the stems of the flowers. “With that information, we have a much better chance of tracking those mages. We need to be on the offensive, Damarion. We need to be in a constant state of readiness. If we’re ready, we’re in control. I want to be in control of my fate.”
“I applaud your desire to be in control,” Mr. Tom said. “And when the time comes, I hope you will take control, and run to save yourself from this short-tempered creature. Let Austin Steele stay and fight. He’s more able for it.”
“Do you ever just think to yerself, if I wasn’t such an eejit, I’d have more friends?” Niamh murmured to Earl.
“You should talk. The only people who willingly speak to you are paid to. They serve you cider so as to improve your personality.”
“If only there was an easy solution for making ye more agreeable.”
“Here we go,” I whispered, tuning them out. A clearing lay up ahead, blotchy snow lying in clumps on the ground. Gray rocks rose away on the right, and I could see that was the way Austin’s snout pointed. That was where the creature likely sat or hid.
Now or never.
I stepped out beyond the tree line, and Austin moved to block the others from following me. He pushed forward until he was even with the last line of trees, directly behind me, his head peeking out, showing his presence but not engaging. Hopefully that was what it meant, anyway. And if it meant something else, hopefully it wasn’t something that would piss off the basa-whatever.
“She should’ve at least brought Susan,” I heard Earl murmuring. “It’s a fast little cut-and-thrust sword, great for sneak attacks. Get in, slash ’em up, get out.”
“What’s a small sword like that going to do against a basajaun?” Niamh asked. “It’d be like giving ’im a paper cut.”
“Paper cuts sting. That’d make the brute at least pause before backhanding her across the clearing. You can get a good sprint in during a pause.”
“Shh,” I said. They didn’t need to give the creature any ideas.
I edged out further into the clearing, and I wasn’t going to lie: having Susan along wouldn’t have been a bad thing, if only because it would have bolstered my courage.
Sitting on top of the highest rock sat a creature whose hair draped his body in dusky brown waves. He rose when he saw me, and slowly worked his way down to ground level, standing on the same plane as me. I had to tilt my head up to see his face and enormous nose, even from the distance across the clearing. He had to be nine feet tall, with ridiculously huge arms hanging at the sides of his massive upper body.
“This is, quite possibly, her worst idea yet,” Mr. Tom muttered from the trees.
I had to agree with him. The big guy looked a lot bigger when not viewed from above.
“Hi,” I said, and gave a stupid little wave. All of my cool confidence had gone out the window in the face of this massive creature. Now, standing face to stomach with him, not even remotely on a level playing field, with a bunch of smooshed flowers instead of a sword, I was definitely having second thoughts.
“How do you hide from hikers?” I blurted. I couldn’t help it.
“Oh.” He tilted his head at me, his wide nose shadowing his mouth. “How nice of you to ask. It is an art, really.” He looked behind him, found a flat part on one of the rocks, and sat. He crossed an ankle over his knee and put out his arms for inspection. “My coloring does help me blend in, but don’t fool yourself—it’s not easy being mistaken for a tree. I have no branches.”
“Is he not very bright, or does he think we’re not very bright?” Mr. Tom whispered much too loudly.
“The trick is standing very still. Also knowing where the hikers will pass you.” The creature motioned in front of him like he was peering through the trees.
“If I had to guess, I’d say he is the one who is not very bright,” Mr. Tom whispered, still much too loudly. “There are actual hiking trails, after all. It isn’t rocket science—”
“Would ye stop, you donkey?” Niamh berated.
“But it wouldn’t be enjoyable to go unnoticed. I wait for them to pass, and when I’m in their peripheral vision, I move just a little. Hardly noticeable. If I don’t catch their eye, I move again, a bit more. Sometimes I am not obvious enough, and I lose them. This happened a lot in my youth. Or I move enough that they think I’m a bear, and there is great confusion and much screaming. But I have gotten pretty good at it, like I said. It is an art. I move a little, they glance over, and catch me looking at them. I stay there for the right amount of time—not too little, not too much. Enough for them to realize that I am an intelligent creature—”
“That’s debatable,” Mr. Tom muttered.
“—and then I move away, into the trees, out of sight.” He slid his ankle off his leg and planted his feet on the ground, his body shaking with laug
hter. “You should see their faces!” He laughed harder, tilting his head up to the sky. “It is fantastic. They search frantically for their phones to get a picture. Or they freeze, as though they think I might not see them if they do not move. Or they take off running like the devil himself is chasing them! You just never know!”
His laughter shook his whole body, and I felt a smile crack my face.
“How is it I’ve never heard of you before now?” I asked, forgetting myself for a moment. With this new life, I’d learned to take the bumps of crazy and roll with it.
He stretched his arms wide. “Because I am the best at this! I am a myth! This is what diligent practice will get you. Mastery.”
I couldn’t make out what Mr. Tom had muttered this time.
“Well, that’s pretty crazy, and I’d love to see it in action someday—”
“An audience. I’ve never had an audience, although I did have an apprentice or two in my day. Good kids. Fairly light on thinking ability, if you know what I mean.”
“They must be as dumb as posts if he’s saying that,” Mr. Tom murmured.
“Shut it,” Niamh hissed.
I shrugged. “Up to you. Listen, what I wanted to talk—”
“I can see how that might be fun. An audience. You would have to be very quiet. And very still.”
I stared at him with my eyebrows up and my mouth open, really wanting to move the conversation along but not wanting to push him. Given he’d chased two alphas off this mountain, there were clearly hidden depths to him that I didn’t want to see.
“If you dressed in brown, or maybe brown and green, you would blend in better.” He eyed my outfit. “The white sweats would only do for heavy snowfall.”