waited, both dreading and hoping he would come
back. The seasons changed and another year matured and died. One early spring
day, while the mist still shrouded the land, a shadow darker than the
surrounding forest crashed into her quiet glade and collapsed under her tree.
The dryad woke and left her tree to find the gargoyle wounded, bleeding upon
her ground anew. Uncertain what else to do, she took the strength she gained
from his blood and used it to heal his many wounds. Under her care, the
gargoyle recovered from the demon-inflicted injuries, which would have killed
most other creatures.”
Again Lillian frowned, thinking she knew
where this story was going.
“When he was strong once more, he made to
leave, but she persuaded him to stay and make his home in her glade. He gave
her many dryad daughters and she gave him his gargoyle son. And that was the
beginning of dryad and gargoyle life pairings.” Kayla ended with a wistful
sigh.
Lillian started to laugh. She couldn’t help
it. The younger girl was smitten at the thought of a legend. “That story sounds
a little like a Greek legend, like the bull from the sea and how the Minotaur
was sired. Kinky sex, anyone? Have you actually ever seen a gargoyle?
No, I didn’t think so.”
“Your thoughts are polluted by a human’s
outlook. We are not human.” Kayla’s response dripped with disdain.
“But you’re human-sized and human-shaped!
And he’s not. I don’t see how. . . .” She let the sentence die while she still
had a wee bit of dignity left.
“I’ll have him, if you won’t.”
“You’re welcome to him,” Lillian blurted. A
moment after she’d uttered the words, she already regretted them. Gregory
deserved better from her. He was his own thinking, intelligent being, worthy of
respect.
Gran cleared her throat. “Maybe this
gargoyle doesn’t want to be fought over like a prize. I think you’ll find he
left as soon as you started talking about him as if he were a pair of hand-me-down
jeans. While Kayla has already showed her…youth, I expected better of you,
Lillian.”
“Sorry,” Lillian muttered.
Kayla, clearly still affronted by Gran’s
words, crossed her legs and sat back against the sofa and stared off into one
corner without an apology.
“So have any of you actually seen a
gargoyle up close?” Lillian asked.
The third dryad cleared her throat and
quietly introduced herself as Russet. “Kayla is too young,” she continued in
her soft-spoken way. “But I have, once long ago. While they are fierce in their
true forms, they are also capable of great compassion and gentleness.”
“True forms?”
“Lillian,” Gran cut off Russet. “We’ll talk
more about the gargoyle later, but now Sable and I need to discuss business.
Why don’t you make some tea?”
Lillian winced at the dismissal, but got up
from her chair and went to the kitchen. She couldn’t sense her gargoyle
anywhere near. Like Gran said, he must have disappeared at some point during
the conversation about kinky sex. Smart fellow.
Alone in the kitchen, she put the tea
kettle on to boil while she thought over the last conversation. It was best the
gargoyle wasn’t around. It would be beyond awkward to ask him outright if he
expected fringe benefits for saving her. And the stress of the last day had
obliterated the filter between her brain and her mouth. No telling what would
come out if she talked to him now.
She gathered her grandmother’s fancy cups
and saucers from the cupboard by the back window. While placing them on a tray
next to the teapot, she glanced out. Her uncle and brother were cleaning the
garden. Her uncle lugged an oversized gasoline jug.
It hadn’t occurred to her what “cleaning
up” would entail. Now she witnessed the gruesome details as he poured a
generous amount of fuel on one dark spot. Of course they’d need to burn away
the blood and remains. If a gargoyle’s blood could heal, there was no telling
what evil-tainted blood might do.
back. The seasons changed and another year matured and died. One early spring
day, while the mist still shrouded the land, a shadow darker than the
surrounding forest crashed into her quiet glade and collapsed under her tree.
The dryad woke and left her tree to find the gargoyle wounded, bleeding upon
her ground anew. Uncertain what else to do, she took the strength she gained
from his blood and used it to heal his many wounds. Under her care, the
gargoyle recovered from the demon-inflicted injuries, which would have killed
most other creatures.”
Again Lillian frowned, thinking she knew
where this story was going.
“When he was strong once more, he made to
leave, but she persuaded him to stay and make his home in her glade. He gave
her many dryad daughters and she gave him his gargoyle son. And that was the
beginning of dryad and gargoyle life pairings.” Kayla ended with a wistful
sigh.
Lillian started to laugh. She couldn’t help
it. The younger girl was smitten at the thought of a legend. “That story sounds
a little like a Greek legend, like the bull from the sea and how the Minotaur
was sired. Kinky sex, anyone? Have you actually ever seen a gargoyle?
No, I didn’t think so.”
“Your thoughts are polluted by a human’s
outlook. We are not human.” Kayla’s response dripped with disdain.
“But you’re human-sized and human-shaped!
And he’s not. I don’t see how. . . .” She let the sentence die while she still
had a wee bit of dignity left.
“I’ll have him, if you won’t.”
“You’re welcome to him,” Lillian blurted. A
moment after she’d uttered the words, she already regretted them. Gregory
deserved better from her. He was his own thinking, intelligent being, worthy of
respect.
Gran cleared her throat. “Maybe this
gargoyle doesn’t want to be fought over like a prize. I think you’ll find he
left as soon as you started talking about him as if he were a pair of hand-me-down
jeans. While Kayla has already showed her…youth, I expected better of you,
Lillian.”
“Sorry,” Lillian muttered.
Kayla, clearly still affronted by Gran’s
words, crossed her legs and sat back against the sofa and stared off into one
corner without an apology.
“So have any of you actually seen a
gargoyle up close?” Lillian asked.
The third dryad cleared her throat and
quietly introduced herself as Russet. “Kayla is too young,” she continued in
her soft-spoken way. “But I have, once long ago. While they are fierce in their
true forms, they are also capable of great compassion and gentleness.”
“True forms?”
“Lillian,” Gran cut off Russet. “We’ll talk
more about the gargoyle later, but now Sable and I need to discuss business.
Why don’t you make some tea?”
Lillian winced at the dismissal, but got up
from her chair and went to the kitchen. She couldn’t sense her gargoyle
anywhere near. Like Gran said, he must have disappeared at some point during
the conversation about kinky sex. Smart fellow.
Alone in the kitchen, she put the tea
kettle on to boil while she thought over the last conversation. It was best the
gargoyle wasn’t around. It would be beyond awkward to ask him outright if he
expected fringe benefits for saving her. And the stress of the last day had
obliterated the filter between her brain and her mouth. No telling what would
come out if she talked to him now.
She gathered her grandmother’s fancy cups
and saucers from the cupboard by the back window. While placing them on a tray
next to the teapot, she glanced out. Her uncle and brother were cleaning the
garden. Her uncle lugged an oversized gasoline jug.
It hadn’t occurred to her what “cleaning
up” would entail. Now she witnessed the gruesome details as he poured a
generous amount of fuel on one dark spot. Of course they’d need to burn away
the blood and remains. If a gargoyle’s blood could heal, there was no telling
what evil-tainted blood might do.
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