with nothing.
By helping the hybrids and killing
fellow gargoyles, Will and I will be shunned from gargoyle society.
When this adventure is over, I am left with nothing. No duty, no
gargoyle family. I have no idea about my mother. I have avoided her
for fear of her response. But even if she accepts me, she will be
duty bound to turn me into the gargoyle council where I will sit in
judgment. In the end, my sacrifice will mean nothing except to the hybrids.
Chapter 15
Emma
Only Marcas appears at the cottage door
the next morning. He stands tall, stoic, his hands behind his back,
his hair even blacker in the dim light of dawn. It smells and
sounds like morning, the dampness sweet, a few lone birds twilling
in the distance. But as I look around at the solemn group of
hybrids, I realize it doesn't feel like morning. Dawn is about new beginnings, about a world
awakening. It's saying hello to a new day. The expressions around
me look like silent farewells.
"Hell," Marcas says thoughtfully, "is only
dark in the nether realms, in the inner levels deep in the bowels
of the underworld. The outer levels exist within the human world,
parallel to it. Enepsigo's power is tied to the moon. Her realm is
the outer most level of Hell just beyond mine. It will not be dark
until you enter the labyrinth."
"That's a relief," someone mutters, but I
didn't look to see who it was.
My eyes are on the training field beyond
Marcas' shoulder. There, standing in the dew dampened grass, his
body leaning casually against the stone fence, is Conor. Will
Reinhardt is seated on the wall next to him, his expression grave,
angry. They are exchanging words, heated words.
Conor's hand grips the fence's wall, rapidly
becoming one with the stone before he closes his eyes and says
something to Will that makes the gargoyle look away. When he turns
back to Conor, his expression is no longer angry. It is grave and
weary. Conor speaks again, and Will cracks a small smile before the
two of them bump knuckles. No hugs, no awkward goodbyes, but the
eyes say enough. My heart clenches. I care about Conor. I care
about his carefree nature, his resolve to do right even when it
seems wrong.
And then Conor smirks before lifting his hand
in a silent gesture to a figure hiding behind a tree in the
distance. All I see is red hair, and although I had once felt
jealous of the girl I knew hid there, the feeling is mostly gone
now replaced by amusement as she flips Conor the bird. It only
makes him grin wider.
Marcas is still talking when I turn back to
face him. His eyes move to my face, and I fight not to cower. I
picture the short, small redhead behind the tree, and it helps. If
Marcas is human enough to love, then I can look past the darkness
in him.
"It's time," he says, and we move forward as
he leads us into the open field. Conor joins us, but Will only nods
before turning to walk away. I think he's had enough of
goodbyes.
"The older a hybrid becomes, the more
powerful. As we age, we need less food, less sleep, less human
amenities," Marcas explains.
He lifts his arm, and the air before us
suddenly begins to shimmer. I feel Deidra shiver from behind me,
and Ace snuffles nervously near my feet. Marcas had vetoed the
drex's involvement the day before, but the creature is bound to me,
and I refuse to leave him behind. I wait for Marcas to fight me
over his appearance, but he only glances disapprovingly at the
creature before gesturing at the opaque air now in front of us.
"As you grow, many of you will also obtain
enough power to open portals between this world and Hell. This
portal will take you to the labyrinth. I have no idea what
Enepsigos has planned for you. The journey will not be an easy one.
Stay alert. Take your time."
"And don't die, right," Lyre says crossly
from behind me.
Marcas's expression remains even, although
his eyes redden. "That too," he says simply. "The portal will open
at the labyrinth's entrance. It is made of stone, carved
By helping the hybrids and killing
fellow gargoyles, Will and I will be shunned from gargoyle society.
When this adventure is over, I am left with nothing. No duty, no
gargoyle family. I have no idea about my mother. I have avoided her
for fear of her response. But even if she accepts me, she will be
duty bound to turn me into the gargoyle council where I will sit in
judgment. In the end, my sacrifice will mean nothing except to the hybrids.
Chapter 15
Emma
Only Marcas appears at the cottage door
the next morning. He stands tall, stoic, his hands behind his back,
his hair even blacker in the dim light of dawn. It smells and
sounds like morning, the dampness sweet, a few lone birds twilling
in the distance. But as I look around at the solemn group of
hybrids, I realize it doesn't feel like morning. Dawn is about new beginnings, about a world
awakening. It's saying hello to a new day. The expressions around
me look like silent farewells.
"Hell," Marcas says thoughtfully, "is only
dark in the nether realms, in the inner levels deep in the bowels
of the underworld. The outer levels exist within the human world,
parallel to it. Enepsigo's power is tied to the moon. Her realm is
the outer most level of Hell just beyond mine. It will not be dark
until you enter the labyrinth."
"That's a relief," someone mutters, but I
didn't look to see who it was.
My eyes are on the training field beyond
Marcas' shoulder. There, standing in the dew dampened grass, his
body leaning casually against the stone fence, is Conor. Will
Reinhardt is seated on the wall next to him, his expression grave,
angry. They are exchanging words, heated words.
Conor's hand grips the fence's wall, rapidly
becoming one with the stone before he closes his eyes and says
something to Will that makes the gargoyle look away. When he turns
back to Conor, his expression is no longer angry. It is grave and
weary. Conor speaks again, and Will cracks a small smile before the
two of them bump knuckles. No hugs, no awkward goodbyes, but the
eyes say enough. My heart clenches. I care about Conor. I care
about his carefree nature, his resolve to do right even when it
seems wrong.
And then Conor smirks before lifting his hand
in a silent gesture to a figure hiding behind a tree in the
distance. All I see is red hair, and although I had once felt
jealous of the girl I knew hid there, the feeling is mostly gone
now replaced by amusement as she flips Conor the bird. It only
makes him grin wider.
Marcas is still talking when I turn back to
face him. His eyes move to my face, and I fight not to cower. I
picture the short, small redhead behind the tree, and it helps. If
Marcas is human enough to love, then I can look past the darkness
in him.
"It's time," he says, and we move forward as
he leads us into the open field. Conor joins us, but Will only nods
before turning to walk away. I think he's had enough of
goodbyes.
"The older a hybrid becomes, the more
powerful. As we age, we need less food, less sleep, less human
amenities," Marcas explains.
He lifts his arm, and the air before us
suddenly begins to shimmer. I feel Deidra shiver from behind me,
and Ace snuffles nervously near my feet. Marcas had vetoed the
drex's involvement the day before, but the creature is bound to me,
and I refuse to leave him behind. I wait for Marcas to fight me
over his appearance, but he only glances disapprovingly at the
creature before gesturing at the opaque air now in front of us.
"As you grow, many of you will also obtain
enough power to open portals between this world and Hell. This
portal will take you to the labyrinth. I have no idea what
Enepsigos has planned for you. The journey will not be an easy one.
Stay alert. Take your time."
"And don't die, right," Lyre says crossly
from behind me.
Marcas's expression remains even, although
his eyes redden. "That too," he says simply. "The portal will open
at the labyrinth's entrance. It is made of stone, carved
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