Stone Guardian (10 page)

He stroked up her forearm, willing her with his touch to relax. In small increments she did so, her form growing more pliant under his fingers. “Just because your father does not know about the existence of a group who have long guarded their privacy is not a reason to start doubting him. Your father is a good man and a good protector. Your city could not be in better hands.”

“I don’t...” She backed away, but her movements had gentled, the violence gone. “I don’t mean Dad. Not completely. But the wards are a lie. Zombies got past, you,” she said, motioning at him with her hand as she paced past him, “Got past. My predictable life is turning into a minefield.”

“And I am here to help you, little human. I do not wish you to carry this burden alone.”

Her eyes locked onto his and he could not turn away from the hurt in them. “I believe that, but I also believe that is not the only reason. If you weren’t also helping yourself somehow, I’m not sure you would be here right now.”

She was withdrawing from him, even more than that first night, and being allowed to continue in her life was hanging on these next few moments. “And you are right, little human. Though I will admit to admiring your bravery, if I did not believe more forces were at play I would not be here.”

“Bravery?” Shock colored her words, disbelief written over her face. “What have I done that’s so brave? I froze. If you hadn’t come, I would have stood there as those zombies tore me apart, doing nothing but screaming as I died. And after standing there like a log watching them attack you, I turned and ran.”

“You did not know you could trust me not to hurt you.”

She slashed her arm as though it were a sword, cutting through the air at her side. “Don’t try to make excuses for me.”

Terak stopped her pacing and brought her to stand with him. He cupped her face, that beautiful face which did not flinch as his clawed fingers came into contact. “I make no excuses. You are not a warrior. You are a scholar, one who cares for and nurtures younglings. That you did not act as a hardened soldier who has lived with death is not a reason to call yourself a coward. You feel shame because you ran, but I see that as only strength. You were strong enough to not let the horrific sights around you paralyze you until the battle was over. You broke away. Many can never do that.”

She looked at him in wonderment. Fat, lazy tears started to roll down her cheek, burying themselves in the collar of her sweater.

His wings half closed around them as he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away her tears. “You confuse me, little human.”

“How so?” she asked, her voice not much above a whisper. She closed her eyes and leaned into his palm, letting the weight of her head rest in his hands.

“Most being that I have known feel they are more important than reality dictates. You though, you seem to not realize how special you truly are.”

Her smile was small, quiet, but it suited this intimacy. “You seem to know a lot about me for having known me a weekend.”

The warning from her words tested the mood, but did not shatter it. He must not misspeak. She could not know how long he had been part of her life. “My father once said that once you learn how to see people, it takes only a moment to truly know them. Everything after that moment is details and happy memories.”

One of her hands covered his. “Your father sounds like a wise man.”

“No son alive who loves his father would ever say otherwise.”

Her eyes opened then. The tiny lines around them had eased and the sheen of tears was now absent. They were back to the bright sky color that had his heart beating a little faster as they stared into his. “And what would you say?”

He bowed his head, images of his father and mother from a time long ago dancing in his memory. A time before the collision, when they had all been free of the burdens of this new reality, his father gathering his mother up and spinning her around, only to bring her in and kiss her, the sight embarrassing him, yet warmed something in his chest as he beheld it. “My father was the wisest of gargoyles.”

Terak moved his hands into her hair, pushing the blond strands off her face with gentle strokes. He continued, “My father would have enjoyed meeting your father. From what I have heard, they were both very alike.”

“You know about my father?” she asked, curiosity sparking her eyes and dampening the last of the pain that remained there.

“I am leader of my Clan. It is my job to know of all beings whose decisions could affect the balance of this world. Your father is one such man. He is well respected, and though he issues no decrees, his words are taken seriously by those who do.”

Pride lit her features, her smile going wide and free. “Yeah, that’s my dad.”

The intimacy of their situation hit him then, his hands buried in her hair while his wings surrounded them, protected them in their own universe. Her own gaze held no discomfort yet, but it would in moments.

It was better to back away, remove himself from her space. He forced fingers that did not wish to unwind from the strands of hair to let go. He backed away.

He shifted his gaze away and now focused on her home, to give them both a moment to recover. The room was warm, blue walls and white furniture and an air that suggested everlasting summer. It suited her.

The title of the book on the table caught his eye and he reached down to grab it. From the corner of his eye he viewed Larissa as she made a half lunge to grab the book from his hand before she stopped herself.

“
History of Gargoyles
,” he intoned, reading the title. “I have never read this work. Is it any good?”

He turned his attention back to her to see her little chin raised. “I’m not going to apologize for trying to learn about you.”

Of course she shouldn’t. He would have not respected her as much if she took everything on faith. “I would not expect you to. A scholar always seeks more information.”

Her eyes still held their earlier warmth, though a small shadow entered them. “There is not a lot of information out there, and what little there is, it’s… mixed.”

Here he needed to tread carefully. Her hesitation over the last word spoke volumes. He wanted to keep the level of camaraderie they had developed. “I do not know what the volume contains, but I can say with certainty that we are not as bad as many stories would have you believe.”

Her fingers ran over the cover of the volume, which featured a gargoyle in battle mode. “If gargoyles don’t deserve the bad press, why do you have so much of it?”

“Separation and isolation creates fear and mistrust, on both sides.”

“Which is why you want to start living in the world?”

“Yes.”

“But not all your people do, isn’t that what you told me?” The shadow was growing larger.

He waved his hand over the cover and need to make her understand struck him with the force of a warhammer. Of all beings, he didn’t want her to look on him with fear. He didn’t want to lose the closeness they were developing. He wanted to be able to touch her face again. “Stories like this tell only one side. They never speak to the many betrayals gargoyles suffered at the hands of other races. My people do need to move on, but many cannot forget the past, a past where they learned that they can only depend on other gargoyles, lessons learned with blood and fire. They have learned that other races would destroy us if they got the chance.” He sat across from her, not wanting to force her to keep looking up at him. “But we must move forward now, not forgetting those lessons, but not letting them control us either. We no longer live in the Magic Realm, and I need your help to accomplish what I want.”

The shadow was gone. Her eyes now held only curiosity, the question in them not on his trustworthiness but on the worthiness of his plan. “Spell it out for me then. What exactly is it you want?”

“I want what every leader wants. I want to protect my Clan. My people have been in flux since the Great Collision. I want to bring calm and prosperity and peace to my people. I want us to be able to move in this world without fearing or bringing fear to others.”

She motioned at the book with the gargoyle drawn to inspire fear. “And you believe helping me will help you achieve that goal? That it will change centuries of mistrust on both sides?”

“It is only a first step, but yes, it is a valuable first step, one that will set my people on that desired path. While the outcome is not guaranteed, I can only hope so.”

She studied the book still in his hand. Reaching for it, her fingers brushed his as she took the book from his hand, soft and warm and gentle, the sensation sparking nerves and tendons in ways not even the fiercest of battles had ever caused. There was a split-second pause, a hesitation before she drew away and leaving him bereft. Without a word she went into her kitchen and the book was tossed in the trash, the look she gave him as the rattle of paper hitting metal hung in the air almost defiant, as though she was waiting for him to comment.

When no words came from him she changed from defiant to bashful, pink once again dusting her skin while her hand reached up to rub the back of her neck. She cleared her throat. “Bringing the conversation back to my school crashers, Fallon said something rather interesting to me.”

“I do not doubt that. What did she say?”

Larissa started giggling, sweet, nervous sounds that she covered by placing her hand over her mouth. She was as adorable as any youngling at that moment, her shining eyes still visible inside of half-closed lids and her cheekbones rounded in mirth. Something in him loosened at the sight, freeing space in him that let air travel easier and deeper, as though now was the first time he knew what it was to truly breathe unencumbered. “She is a very intimidating woman when you are up close and personal.”

Perhaps a diplomatic meeting with the Guild was in order. He did not wish Larissa to fear in the place that should be her sanctuary. “Do not feel cowardly for thinking that. Most warriors would rather run than face Fallon in battle.”

“Have you ever fought her?” she asked, stark interest in her tone.

“No, and while I would if I had no choice, I would never wish to. What did she say?”

“Well, like you,” Larissa said, giving him a pointed look, “She didn’t seem to believe me when I said I had no idea why I was attacked by zombies. I then asked her why she didn’t know what was going on. Obviously, she had some information if she was there waiting. And she had the funniest look of annoyance come over her face. She said some meddling bitch sent her to my place that night and didn’t have the courtesy to tell her why she was there. Would you have any idea who she meant?”

There was only one being who could possibly cause that reaction in a warrior of Fallon’s caliber. “My guess would be the Oracle.”

“The Oracle?
THE
Oracle?”

“As far as I know, there is only one.”

Larissa’s mouth hung open for a moment. “The Oracle,” she repeated. “I’ve heard about her, but… wow.”

She is connected to the future of your Clan. Guard her well.

“I don’t understand,” Larissa continued. “If the Oracle is involved, why didn’t she just tell them who was behind this and what they want me for?”

“Yes, it would be nice if she was something other than inscrutable.”

“Have you ever met her?”

No, he would not tell.

His protection of her was all that mattered. There was no reason to inform her of the Oracle’s visit which started his interest in her, or the months he watched over her without her knowledge. He would not risk their fragile relationship over the truth.

There was no reason then for this gnawing sensation that crawled through his insides with sharp teeth, eager to tear into his flesh and let him bleed.

None.

“No, I have not.”

A clock chimed in the background, bringing Larissa’s head up. “It’s later than I thought. I need to get to bed.” She became unsure again, the same uncertainty that colored those first minutes. “Thank you for coming in and answering some questions. And thank you for…” here she colored again, her eyes softening at the memory which played behind them. “Thank you for everything you said to me tonight. I might not want what is happening, but I’m grateful to have you helping me.”

His wings flickered, and for the first time in his life he had to hold them steady against him. “I would not have you afraid if I can prevent it.”

Her hands were twisting together lightly, broadcasting her nervousness in the next question. “Is there some way I can contact you if I need to speak with you again?”

“I will be around often.”

“Yes, but unless you want me jumping up and down on the balcony and hoping you are on guard duty to answer, I was thinking there was an easier method of communication.”

With rare exception he was the only one who watched her. Her worry was for naught, but to not scare her he said, “You may ask any gargoyle any question. They have been given orders to keep you apprised.”

“Thank you for thinking to order that, but,” she licked her lips again, a pink and glistening temptation amidst silken hair and fathomless eyes. If he had not so much experience listening to those around him even as his concentration was directed elsewhere, he would have missed her next words. “I like talking to you.”

Warmth lit up his chest, inappropriate and all-consuming. Clearing his throat, he gave a gruff nod and stepped back toward the balcony. “I will bring something the next time I guard you.”

“Good. I guess I should see you out then.” She stepped out with him onto the balcony. “Try to get some rest.”

“I shall.”

She looked down at the ground, pushing her long hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. “Next time you come, you don’t have to wait for an invitation. I wouldn’t mind if I saw you knocking on the door.” Without waiting to see his reaction to those words, she entered her home, turning off lights as she made her way to her bedroom.

Terak leaned against the wall. If he quieted his breathing he could hear her going about her nightly rituals, hear the splash of water and the soft music she used as a background noise to lull her to sleep.