The Gargoyle Overhead

by Philippa Dowding

  For Paul,

  who knows Gargoth well

  And for my father Marcus,

  who knew him long ago

  Prologue

  The year is 1664.

  It is a beautiful, sunny day in a small churchyard in England. There are rolling green hills as far as the eye can see, beautiful old chestnut trees everywhere, and a very pretty little river running beside the church courtyard. It makes a sweet, soft sound as the water runs past the grassy banks. There is an ancient stone statue of a lion nearby, regally facing west on its pedestal of stone.

  A boy is busy beside the little river, washing a basket of apples. He has just picked these apples from the abandoned orchard behind the church. No one else collects them but he and his father.

  He is flicking flies away from his head. It is a hot day, and he would like to be back under a shady tree. He is dressed in breeches and a loose-fitting linen shirt. His golden hair is cropped very short, and he is barefoot.

  As he is washing the apples, something hard hits the back of his head, and he turns quickly. In the grass beside him is an apple core, which he picks up and stares at, amazed. He looks around, but there is no one there.

  This has happened before. In fact, it happens all the time, but just to him. His father never talks about being hit with flying apple cores, or about the strange sound the boy often hears when he is walking through the orchard. It is like the wind rustling in the winter leaves, or like a language he is just beginning to forget.

  But he is wrong. It is neither of these things, which he is soon to find out.

  Chapter One

  Candles by Daye, at Night

  Katherine stepped off the Queen streetcar and down into the hot Toronto evening. She hoisted her yellow canvas backpack a little higher and turned to whisper into it, “Gargoth, are you awake?”

  She heard a familiar snap and growl and felt a small, hot body wriggle against her back. A sharp claw jabbed her hard in the ribs. Gargoth never did like waking up.

  “Barga memi soth,” a strange, growly voice said. But she heard it say, “Yes. I am now.”

  “Good,” she snapped back. “We’re here.”

  She walked past an old pub, with all the windows and doors open wide, and a tiny library. She never saw anyone at this tucked-away spot except old people and mothers with babies, but the library did have a nice roof garden with a goldfish pond and an ornamental crabapple tree.

  Three stores over was her destination, Candles by Daye. It was an old, old storefront, bright red with a narrow green door. The front window was huge and overflowing with candles shaped like skulls and dragons, incense holders, healing chime balls, yoga and self-help books, crystals in every imaginable size and shape, and much more.

  Katherine pushed hard on the old door, walked in, and locked it behind her. The air was heavily scented with cinnamon and years of burnt incense.

  “Cassandra? Cassandra, we’re here!” she shouted as she lowered the backpack to the floor. Gargoth hadn’t felt that heavy when they’d started out, but by the time they’d crossed the city on the subway, then the streetcar, she felt like there were ten of him in the backpack.

  He wriggled and complained a lot, too, which didn’t help much.

  “Up here! I’m up on the roof,” came Cassandra Daye’s voice from what seemed like miles away. Katherine bent down to her backpack and realized she’d forgotten to open it. There were muffled grunts coming from it, and the backpack wriggled and shook as though it contained a miniature tornado.

  She opened it quickly, and Gargoth’s leathery head popped out. He took a huge breath, as though he’d been suffocating for hours, and struggled out. Even if Katherine had wanted to help him, he wouldn’t have let her, so she stood with her arms crossed, looking amused.

  “Come on, she’s upstairs,” she said, heading toward the steep staircase at the back of the store.

  Gargoth started after her, his heavy arms nearly touching the floor at his scaly feet, his leathery wings held tightly to his back, and a small pouch bulging at his side. At the bottom of the stairs, he looked up at the open door to the roof, the stars beyond twinkling and inviting. He sighed deeply. There were twenty steep stairs to climb to get up to the rooftop, and Katherine had bounded up them in a few seconds.

  He shook his wings for a few moments, and a look of concentration crossed his leathery face. His wings began to move, faster, faster, faster. He pushed his chin into the air as he worked his wings harder and harder, finally as hard as he could. His wings were fanning hard enough to blow dust across the floor of the store in little eddies and to gently move some of the closer crystals and bells hanging from the ceiling. They started softly ringing.

  But nothing happened. He didn’t budge. He sighed and stopped fanning his wings. He started to climb the steps slowly, mumbling about giants.

  And if you have ever seen a gargoyle struggle up a steep set of stairs, you know it is not a pretty sight.

  Chapter Two

  Ambergine:

  On Top of the World

  The little gargoyle held on tight…

  She was perched up high, as high as she had ever been, higher than she had ever wanted to be. It was late in the evening, and she had flown very hard to reach this place.

  It was windy and frightening so high above the gigantic city. It sprawled below her like an enormous anthill, cars and trucks whizzing along in different directions on many, many roads and highways. Below her to the west was a huge, rounded sports stadium with a smooth white top. To the south, where the city ended, there was a dark, peaceful lake and a beautiful green island just offshore, with small twinkling lights on it. A boat was ferrying people back and forth between the city and the island.

  I wish I was over there. It looks quiet at least, and not very windy, she thought just as a huge gust of wind threatened to blow her off her perch. She’d much rather be on the pretty green island than where she was, sitting dangerously on the top of a gigantic pointy building with a strange bulge near the top. She was balanced on the bulge. She couldn’t even imagine what this building was for. She’d never seen anything like it. There were no people in it except for a few walking around in the bulgy bit below her. It was just tall, very tall, with flashing lights on the top. She’d picked this building because she knew it would be the best place to see the entire city splayed out beneath her. Once she got her bearings, she would leave this windy, dangerous spot for good (and the sooner the better).

  She had to get to know this city called “Toronto”, though, since she would be searching every corner of it until she found what she was looking for.

  Chapter Three

  Rooftop Pumpkins

  Cassandra and Katherine were sitting on the rooftop in comfortable lawn chairs, sipping cool glasses of lemonade, deep in conversation. They tried to ignore the noises coming from the stairs as Gargoth climbed them, although they did exchange the odd worried look. Finally, he emerged through the small rooftop door. He stood for a while, glaring, his small chest heaving, and when neither Katherine nor Cassandra addressed him or seemed to notice him (they knew better), he stumped across the rooftop and flopped onto a small cushion.

  Katherine and Cassandra were discussing soccer. Katherine was on a girl’s soccer team, and they played all summer long. Cassandra had joined Katherine’s parents, Hank and Marie Newberry, several times to cheer on Katherine and her teammates from the sidelines.

  Occasionally, Gargoth also joined them, hidden in his yellow canvas backpack with eyeholes cut in the cloth. He was safely hidden but could still see the game around him. He wasn’t entirely ready to admit it, but he was starting to enjoy watching the “ball-on-a-foot” game, as he called it.

  “Well,
that team last week was on steroids or some-thing. Honestly, they were twice our size…” Katherine said.

  Cassandra laughed. “I was tall at your age, almost six feet by then.” Katherine looked awed.

  “You were six feet by the time you were thirteen? You poor thing! I mean, not poor thing, but really, was there anyone else your height? I mean, any boys or anything?” Katherine looked down at her nail then bit it after the word “boys”.

  Cassandra laughed again. “A few, but they were too busy playing basketball to notice me.”

  Gargoth listened quietly. When he’d regained his breath, and his dignity, he left his cushion and waddled over to the lemonade pitcher. There was the cocoa mug which he had chosen from Cassandra’s cupboard. It had an odd diamond-and-circle pattern on it like this:

  He poured himself a large mug of lemonade, downed it in one swig, then wiped his leathery mouth with the back of his claw.

  “GARRPH, ” he gurgled (which is the noise a gargoyle makes when clearing its throat). “Lemmi lumina,” he said. Katherine heard him say, “I need candles.”

  She was so surprised that Gargoth had spoken, she left her mouth open. They had visited Cassandra’s rooftop several times since school ended, but in all those visits, this was the first time he had uttered a word.

  His sudden request left her momentarily speechless. His rudeness didn’t bother her; she was used to that.

  “Candles? What for?”

  Gargoth just glared at her, clearly not in the mood to answer any of her questions.

  “Oh, never mind. Um, Cassandra, Gargoth would like to know if you have any candles…” she said.

  “Candles? This is Candles by Daye, after all! Of course he can have candles. How many would he like?”

  Cassandra loved Gargoth and adored everything to do with statues and gargoyles in particular, but try as she might, she had never been able to understand a word that he said. To her, his language always sounded like garbled whisperings, or like the wind rattling in the winter leaves.

  Katherine on the other hand, understood every word (since most children can, and the occasional very wise adult). But understanding Gargoth was sometimes a mixed blessing, since he had a very short temper and tended to say things which would be better left unsaid. She turned to the little gargoyle. “Well? How many candles do you need?”

  “One hundred and forty-eight,” he answered in gargoyle, without hesitation.

  She gasped. “One hundred and forty eight? You need one hundred and forty-eight candles? Why?”

  She knew immediately that she had been too abrupt. Gargoth hated to be questioned. He turned from her, a heavy scowl on his face, staring off toward the dark city. The city skyline blazed in the distance, and tall office buildings shed thousands of bars of light over the dark houses and smaller buildings below. The CN Tower stood out majestically, a tall sentinel watching over the city.

  Cassandra smiled. “Don’t worry, Katherine. I have lots of candles. I just received three crates of Halloween candles—they’re tiny orange pumpkins—and I only ordered one crate. I must have three hundred of those he can burn if he wants.” She whisked away, and they heard her clomp back down the narrow stairs into her store.

  Cassandra was not only very tall, she was also very clumsy. Katherine flinched when she heard a giant crash in the building below them: Cassandra had tripped or dropped something heavy.

  “It’s okay! I’m okay!” she yelled up to them as she tromped back upstairs. Gargoth hadn’t moved from his cushion and just stared up at the stars.

  Cassandra stomped heavily back onto the rooftop with a gigantic crate in her arms, out of breath and puffing hard, but looking very happy.

  “Here, Gargoth! All the candles you could ever need. I hope you like orange-scented pumpkins!” She opened the crate and started pulling out tiny pumpkin candles. Gargoth hopped off his cushion and waddled over to the crate. He peered inside.

  “They’re smiling. They’re smiling pumpkins. Why are they smiling?” he grumbled in his strange language. He looked up at Katherine, as though the boxful of happy, smiling pumpkins was somehow her fault.

  “Does it matter?” she said. “You haven’t told us what they’re for yet. And Cassandra has very nicely donated them to you, without a second thought. You could just say ‘Thank you Cassandra’, without complaining.”

  Sometimes Katherine felt like she was teaching a rude little brother how to behave, except this little brother happened to be much, much older than her. Almost four hundred years older than her, in fact.

  Gargoth mumbled something, which sounded very like “I hate pumpkins” and began carrying them in his leathery claws to an open part of the rooftop. He started to build a pile of tiny smiling orange pumpkin candles, oblivious to the girl and woman watching him.

  “He says ‘thank you, Cassandra’,” Katherine lied.

  Cassandra just smiled. She didn’t care what Gargoth did. She didn’t care that she didn’t understand him. He was a living, breathing gargoyle, waddling around on her rooftop. He could have snarled and snapped at her every second of the day, and she wouldn’t have minded.

  Some people love dogs. Some people love small children. Some people can’t get enough of bugs.

  Cassandra Daye adored gargoyles, which, luckily for Gargoth, will one day soon save him from a terrible fate.

  Chapter Four

  Ambergine:

  Among Hot Dog Eaters

  The little gargoyle was tired…

  She had flown all night, and she needed to sleep. Dawn was breaking over the city, and she wanted to be safely hidden before the sun rose. Lately, she had been sleeping among the statues of giant people at the big white sports stadium by the lake. The huge fibreglass figures were sort of like gargoyles, although none of them was alive (which was probably just as well, she decided, since they were all about ten metres tall).

  Today she’d decided to sleep on the statue of a giant man with a hot dog stuffed in his mouth. “He doesn’t look very appealing,” she thought, “but I guess he’ll do.” Her small leathery wings carried her slowly off the roof of the dome (it was closed for the day), and let her settle awkwardly on the giant hot dog man’s bronze head.

  She waddled along the statue’s head then nestled deep into the wall of the building, safely hidden. She pulled her wings close about her and let her head fall onto her little chest.

  I wonder what a hot dog tastes like? she thought as she began to doze. Soon she was snoring quietly.

  Well, as quietly as a gargoyle can snore, even a delicate lady gargoyle like her.

  She was hidden completely from the street, safe for now. If anyone looked up at the giant statues, they wouldn’t notice one small gargoyle tucked away among them, even if she was snoring. There was no one around anyway except for an old man wearing very thick glasses and a baggy brown jacket resting on a bench nearby, a white hat on his knee.

  That night, Ambergine would continue her search.

  Chapter Five

  Master of the Candles

  Gargoth and Katherine were back on Cassandra’s roof a few days later, with the stars twinkling overhead and the city blazing off in the distance to the west. The lemonade pitcher and apples were laid out again. Katherine and Cassandra were relaxing comfortably in folding chairs, but Gargoth’s cushion was empty.

  He was working feverishly on his pile of unlit pumpkin candles, moving them around the roof, placing a single one here, then there. He would put one down, lean his head to one side, then move the candle again a few centimetres in a different direction. Sometimes he would lie down flat on the roof to line up the candles, or sometimes climb up the small chimney ladder (which made Katherine very nervous) to see his creation, all the while with his lit pipe clamped tightly in his leathery lips. He was concentrating very hard, not paying any attention to Katherine and Cassandra at all. It was almost like they weren’t there.

  Although they knew better than to ask, Katherine and Cassandra were very curio
us about what he was doing. Was it a piece of art? Was it some ancient game? By now the candles were covering the entire roof in some sort of sequence, but it didn’t make any sense to them. Since Cassandra had provided the candles, Gargoth hadn’t said another word. He just went about his mysterious business, so until he decided to tell them what he was doing, they would just have to wait to find out.

  Instead they were talking about soccer camp. “They play soccer all day, then swim all afternoon at the university pool. It sounds hard, but it’s really fun. Two professional soccer players are running the camp this year, and we get to play an exhibition game on their field. A professional field, Cassandra!”

  Cassandra smiled. Katherine sighed. “I might not be able to go, though. Mom and Dad have to go to my mom’s cousin’s daughter’s wedding in Saskatoon or something. I’ve been begging them to let me stay home, but they won’t let me stay alone. Also, we aren’t sure what to do with…” she hesitated and glanced over at Gargoth.

  Since he was a good way across the roof, she dropped her voice to a whisper and said, “We aren’t sure what to do with Gargoth for an entire week, though. He knows we’re leaving, and I don’t think he’s all that happy about it...”

  The week before, her mother had told him they were leaving for a holiday. He’d stormed into the bushes at the back of their little yard and wouldn’t come out for hours. He’d sulked and pouted and wouldn’t even stroke their calico cat Milly (and they were great friends). And he hadn’t talked to her mother since.

  It was a little awkward. They couldn’t take him away for a whole week. He was a gargoyle, not a pet, after all. Even if they were used to him walking and talking and being very much alive in their backyard, Katherine doubted that the nice people at the wedding would be all that okay with it. Besides, Gargoth was terrible in the car. They’d only tried that once, and it hadn’t gone at all well. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he would be like in an airplane.