Curse of the Gargoyles (Gargoyle Guardian Chronicles Book 2) (19 page)

“What was it like on the outside?”

His gaze slid down my face to rest on my hand. At some point, Oliver had tucked his sinuous body against my side, and I absently stroked his wings where I’d healed them earlier. The rest of his body still needed attention.
Soon,
I promised us both silently.

The other gargoyles remained around the marmot, and their eyes drooped. I sent soft test weaves through them, reassuring myself that all my gargoyles were okay. The ordeal with the purifier and the null had exhausted them, but they’d recover.

“Like running in quicksand,” Marcus said, finally answering my question. “I had so much magic available to me, but no matter how hard I pushed it down the quartz, only a trickle reached you. It felt like I was doing nothing but watching you . . . watching you be drained.” He paused, lifting his face toward the sunset. “Useless. Being on the outside felt useless.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. The sunset turned the high clouds from pink to purple. Nearby, a bird sang a lullaby to the sun and a few crickets added sharp accompaniment.

“The gargoyles were true heroes,” he said. Oliver lifted his head, bright eyes shining in the twilight. “I’ve never encountered a null that big—not even half that big. Without their help, we wouldn’t have been enough. As it is, it’s going to be days before any of us can work magic at full capacity. Right now, without us linking back up, you’re probably the strongest elemental in the park.”

Huh. So he was human after all.

“You saved us twice today,” I said to Oliver. “Terra Haven owes you a medal of honor.”

Oliver hummed, a quiet, happy sound. Despite everything he’d been through, he was more balanced and healthy-looking internally than if he’d spent a week safely ensconced in my apartment. His siblings were listing on their feet, but he was alert.

“You have a warrior’s spirit, Oliver,” Marcus said.

He was right. I took a deep breath and acknowledged a truth I’d been hiding from myself: Oliver needed more than me. His siblings were all finding roosting locations throughout the city, places they could call home where they felt a resonance with the inhabitants and environment. But Oliver had remained with me, and it wasn’t simply because he liked me better than the others did. He wasn’t like his siblings. He wasn’t ready to settle into one place. He was more adventurous. He was happiest when we were rushing toward a gargoyle in need. He was a rare gargoyle who thrived on action.

I leaned around Marcus and called to Grant. We were close enough to converse, but he promptly extricated himself from Kylie’s conversation and strode to my side. I didn’t miss the way he glanced back at my best friend, though, and there was nothing grumpy about his expression. Maybe Kylie didn’t bother him as much as he pretended.

“What can I do for you, gargoyle healer?”

“Could you use a gargoyle in your unit?”

Grant’s eyes widened and his eyebrows flicked up. “Is there a willing gargoyle?”

I glanced at Oliver. The young gargoyle watched me curiously.

“You’ll never find a better group of people to work with, Oliver,” I said, my heart breaking. Oliver had been a true hero today, and he’d thrived in the role. I’d been selfish to keep him as my companion. It was time to set him free. “You’re courageous and strong—a real warrior, like Marcus said. I don’t think you’ll ever be happy in just one place like your siblings. You need adventure.”

“We have adventures,” Oliver said, his brow furrowed.

“Sure, every once in a while. But the squad has experiences like this every day.”

“You were a real asset today,” Grant said. “I’d be honored to have you on my team.”

Oliver perked up.

“Think of all the important work you could do with them. You could save Terra Haven every day.” I wouldn’t cry. This was for the best. With the squad, Oliver could do what he loved, and the squad would keep him safe and healthy. He’d be happy. “I think you’d make a great addition to Captain Monaghan’s squad.”

“Really, Mika? Do you think so?” Oliver’s tiny ears quivered behind his carnelian ruff.

“I do. This is your calling, Oliver.” A bittersweet ache settled in my chest, partially assuaged by knowing I was putting his well-being above my own needs. This was how a true gargoyle healer behaved.

Oliver leapt to his feet with an excited trill that echoed through the park, and the pressure in my chest eased. This was the right call. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and forced a smile that turned genuine when Oliver launched straight into the air, shouting, “I am a
warrior
!”

12

I limped down the library steps and turned to wait for Oliver to glide down to meet me. Pigeons cooed and bobbed along the roofline, but the blue sky remained empty. I turned away, my heart constricting with familiar soreness. It’d been almost two weeks since Oliver had departed with the FPD, and I’d thought it’d be easier by now. For the twentieth time today, I assured myself that I’d made the right decision in encouraging him to go with the squad. Remembering his excitement helped.

Distractions worked better.

I purchased a copy of the
Terra Haven Chronicle
from a newsboy on the corner and hobbled to lean against the brick wall of a building, out of the way of traffic. The healers had done a wonderful job mending my foot, though it’d hurt worse than the original injury. I had another week of wearing a brace while the freshly knitted tissue and muscle strengthened before I’d be cleared to walk unimpeded. I was counting the hours.

The front page of the paper focused on the recent governor’s debate and had nothing to do with me, gargoyles, the full-five squad, or Focal Park. I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d had the dubious honor of gracing the front page again, thanks to Kylie. Sometime before the healers had arrived, she’d snapped a picture of me, Marcus, and the marmot behind us. I’d looked like a disaster victim, not a hero, especially next to Marcus, who even in repose managed to appear ready to rush off to halt a swarming clutch of basilisks. The headline had been equally embarrassing:
Gargoyle Healer Saves Terra Haven
. Kylie had a gift for writing, but she tended to exaggerate my heroism. Thankfully column space had been limited, and after she’d described everything else that had transpired thanks to Elsa’s purifier, she’d only had two inches left to recount my destruction of the null. She still managed to make me seem impressive enough to be a member of the FPD.

I found Kylie’s follow-up story on page 11 today. It detailed the ongoing cleanup at the park and a few facts about Elsa’s career, ending with a simple statement:
Elsa Lansing remains under guard at the Soothing Halls mental hospital, awaiting trial.

I folded the paper and stuffed it in my bag with my haul of books. I slung it over my shoulder and checked to see if Oliver was—

Releasing a sigh, I limped along the sidewalk and tried to picture a punishment a jury could dole out that would be worse than Elsa’s current fate. In her greedy pursuit of more power, she had nullified herself. For the rest of her life, she’d be able to see magic but never touch or use it again.

I shuddered. The few minutes I’d spent inside the null field had been some of the most horrific of my life, even discounting the agony of having magic sucked through my skin from my bone marrow. Cut off from magic, the world had felt dead. I had felt dead. It would be a horrible existence.

Pausing, I searched for sympathy for Elsa, finding none. The dull headache that had been my constant companion since destroying the purifier thumped behind my temples. Drawing magic still hurt, especially in large quantities. The healer had assured me I would make a full recovery, but it would take longer than my foot.

If it had been just me Elsa had hurt, I might have been able to forgive her, but I couldn’t forgive what she’d done to the gargoyles.

The day after my adventures in the park, I’d hunted down the four gargoyles in the city who had been trapped in the purifier’s braids. Healing them had been simple enough for my overtaxed body and brain to handle; distance had weakened the purifier and limited the internal damage it inflicted. The marmot and fox hadn’t been so lucky.

I caught sight of my grim expression in the reflection of a storefront window. My eyes looked harder than I remembered.

Turning away, I resumed my trek back to my apartment. I’d already visited the fox and marmot today. Focal Park remained closed to the general public while it was restored, but I was a gargoyle healer and had received a special guard detail to escort me in and out each day. With daily healing, both the fox and marmot had stabilized even though they remained unresponsive and paralyzed.

I wasn’t giving up. I’d worked alongside a full-five squad to destroy an acres-wide mutation of magic. I’d split my spirit among my five gargoyles to save them from the purifier. I’d rescued the marmot from the largest null field anyone had ever seen. If I could do all that, I could solve the mystery of the dormancy disease and heal these gargoyles, too.

My extensive testing and probing in the marmot and fox hadn’t revealed the source of the disease, so I’d turned to the library. If I couldn’t find the problem within the gargoyles, maybe I could find answers in the manuals of previous healers and in scholarly journals. I’d checked out every book, newspaper, and scroll that even hinted at a dormancy sickness, and when I’d tapped out the resources of Terra Haven’s library, I’d special ordered material from around the country.

Between recuperating, doctoring the fox and marmot, administering to more mundane gargoyle sicknesses, and doing research, I had almost managed to keep myself busy enough to not miss Oliver.

When Ms. Zubberie’s Victorian came into sight, I sighed with relief. My awkward hobble was tiring and the books in my bag were heavy. I was looking forward to getting upstairs to the room I rented and flopping onto the bed for the rest of the day.

An enormous orange rock plummeted from the roof, unfurling its wings a few feet above the ground. Oliver hit the ground running, using his wings to augment his short legs.

“Oliver!” My heart performed an acrobatic performance in my chest, soaring with elation and dipping back behind protective walls. I couldn’t read too much into this. He was probably just visiting or needed a checkup.

I dropped my bag and crouched in time to brace myself. Oliver skidded to a halt in front of me and wrapped me in his massive eagle wings. It was like being hugged by a flexible wall, one that snuffled my hair and made soft crooning sounds of happiness. I hugged him back, patting his cool sides. Life and magic practically burst from him, and though I knew it was only a figment of my imagination, he seemed like he’d grown an extra foot since I’d last seen him.

“I’m so glad you came to visit,” I said when he released me, sitting so close to me he was almost on top of me. I shifted my weight to my knees, shocked to notice that even with his stubby legs we were almost eye to eye.

“This isn’t a visit,” he said.

“It’s not?” My heart plummeted. Did he need my help? He looked healthy. I’d healed the bulk of his raw patches before sending him off to his new home, and the intervening time had smoothed out the rest. If I was being honest, he looked better than healthy; he glowed. Life with the squad had been far better for Oliver than life with me, and the realization was a fresh jab to a raw wound.

Marcus stepped from the shadows of the Victorian’s balcony. My breath hitched at the sight of him, and I told myself it was because he’d surprised me. He wasn’t in uniform, but even in civilian clothing, no one would mistake him for anything other than an FPD man. From his impressive frame straining the seams of his off-white shirt to the graceful way he moved, everything about him spoke of years of training.

He trotted down the front steps, and I searched his expression. Some of my alarm died at the sight of the barely there smile softening the hard planes of his face, but I rose to my feet anyway. I hadn’t forgotten how big Marcus was, and I didn’t want to be towered over, especially since even once I was standing his height enabled him to pull off some impressive looming. Plus, the last time he’d seen me, I’d been limp from exhaustion and injuries. I wanted to emphasize my strength and recovery. See, the little gargoyle healer can handle herself.

I wanted to impress him. Oh, God, I had a crush on the growly fire elemental.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded normal.

“Nothing. Oliver just wanted to come home. He says his place is here, with you.”

I stilled, holding in selfish hope.

Oliver stared up at me with adoration. “I need to help you,” he said.

“But what about the excitement and adventure?”

“Life with you is more exciting.”

“Maybe the squad had an off couple of weeks.” I glanced to Marcus and he shook his head.

“We rounded up a litter of unchained kludde pups invading the blight. It was pretty dicey stuff.”

“And I met a manticore,” Oliver added.

“You did?” How could life with me compete with that?

“It was fun, but our work is more important,” Oliver said.

“‘Our work’?” I echoed.

“Protecting gargoyles.”

I blinked. Is that how he saw what I did? “With the squad, you have endless magic to feed on. Look at you; you’re glowing with good health.”