Stone's Kiss (22 page)

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Authors: Lisa Blackwood

BOOK: Stone's Kiss
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Unable to stand the mystery, Lillian leaned forward until she could see inside the box.

The knife lay within.

The knife which had tried to kill her gargoyle. “You,” she hissed and snatched it out of the box. Her grandmother shouted and the sidhe Whitethorn made a motion to knock it out of her hand, but the gargoyle blocked them with his wings. She glanced first at Gregory and then back at the knife. She turned it over in her hand. A dark reddish–brown stain soiled the smooth mirror surface of the blade. Gregory’s blood.

Rage tensed her muscles and her pulsed pounded in her ears. This was the thing which had tried to take her gargoyle’s life. Power bubbled up from within Lillian, fed by the wrath until it simmered in her blood, lending her muscles strength. She laid the knife flat on the table and pressed her hand over it until the table creaked with the strain. She held the power back, letting it build. When it spiked, she channeled it upon the knife.
Destroy it
, she whispered to her magic.

A bright flash like a bolt of lightning blinded her. Sparks danced across her vision. She blinked. When her sight returned, she looked down where the blade had been.

It still lay there. Perfect. Untouched by her magic.

A growled tore up from her chest.

The amount of power she’d summoned should have reduced the knife to ash. Yet there it lay. She leaned closer. No, it was not completely untouched; the blood was gone.

Without the visual reminder of Gregory’s near–mortal injury, Lillian’s turbulent power and consuming wrath slowly dissipated. Taking measured deep breathes, she calmed, her heart resuming a normal pace.

With her power’s abandonment, she collapsed back onto a chair and rubbed at her temples to ease the tension. Weakness descended upon her body a layer at a time as the seconds flew past. A clawed hand settled on her shoulder. Before she could look up at Gregory, he began to share power with her.

“I’m sorry. I know I promised I wouldn’t use my power, but I wanted
that
thing destroyed for what it did to you.” Lillian rested her cheek against Gregory’s arm.

“Shh … I know. Rest,”
he whispered into her mind through his touch.

“Well, that was fascinating,” Greenborrow stated. The leshii leaned closer and waved his hand over the blade.

A good six inches of empty air stretched between the steel blade and his flesh. And Lillian could still feel how the blade sucked the magic through the air, weakening the old fae.

Greenborrow retracted his hand. “Interesting how a lowly dryad can hold a demon blade and not have it consume her, and yet all I have to do is stand close enough to the thing to feel it draining me,” he said, his tone offhanded like he commented on the weather.

His remarks stirred the others at the table out of their shock. Multiple conversations erupted at once. The hum of discussion buzzed around the table for several chaotic minutes. Gregory flicked his wings in annoyance, then issued a deep barking challenge in his own language. The verbal debates dwindled to silence.

The sprite, Hyrand, was the first to gather her courage. She inclined her head in Gregory’s direction. The gargoyle nodded.

Hyrand bowed her head in thanks, then looked to the leshii. “Greenborrow, are you accusing Lillian of carrying darkness in her soul?”

“Nothing so serious, my dear.” He glanced at Gregory. “Just saying it’s interesting, is all.”

Hyrand didn’t seem convinced, and she studied Lillian from under her lashes until Lillian became uncomfortable. The sprite cleared her throat and continued as if she chose her words with care. “I would hear how you stopped this blade from destroying your gargoyle.”

“Gregory was injured by the vampire. It was my fault the vampire got in a lucky shot. My magic reacted to save Gregory’s life.”

“And the vampire, he just stood aside and let you do this?”

“No, of course not. He was already dead by the time I reached Gregory’s side.”

“Yet you said you distracted the gargoyle and the vampire got close enough to stab him. You did not say Gregory killed the vampire. So, the gargoyle dropped before he killed the vampire?”

“Yes.” Lillian blurted before she could stop and think.

“So what happened to the vampire?”

“I don’t know, everything happened so fast. It was blurry and dark. Gregory was injured. I panicked. I think I ran at the vampire. I must have had a weapon with me for the next thing I know, I was at Gregory’s side and the vampire was dead.”

Greenborrow interrupted. “The vampire was torn to shreds. Gutted. His heart missing and half his ribcage spread out across the grass. Tell me, what kind of bladed weapon does that?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head, more to deny the existence of a void in her own memories than in response to Greenborrow’s question. Gregory leaned down and rested his chin against her hair, saying in his silence way not to worry. It didn’t work. She trembled and her hands shook like she’d been in a car accident. “Why does it matter? He was evil, and now he’s dead.”

“Exactly. He’s dead. A dryad has no hope of killing a vampire in a one–on–one fight. But if that dryad is something rarer than her sisters, and she could draw magic directly from the Magic Realm, well then—that is one sorry vampire.”

Silence thickened like fog on a cool autumn morning.

“I have magic. I don’t really know anything about it. Heck, I didn’t even know about it until a couple days ago. I certainly don’t know how to use it. That I have magic is no secret. You all say the gargoyle and I raised magic the night of the Hunt. So maybe I did use that power to kill a vampire. So what?”

“But,” Greenborrow continued, “that’s my point. We saw the remains of the vampire and felt the echo of the magic used to do the damage. That was not dryad magic.”

Lillian fisted her hands against her thighs. “First I am a human, and then I’m not a human. Next I’m a dryad and now I’m not a dryad. What do you think I am?”

“I didn’t say you weren’t a dryad, only that the magic used wasn’t dryad magic.”

“My gargoyle can string together better sentences. Say what you mean or leave me alone.”

Gregory tightened his hold on her shoulders. “The leshii is older than the others, his memories run deeper. He recognizes what we are, or has, as you would say, put two and two together.”

“Huh?”

Greenborrow clapped his hands together. “Ah, I’m right.”

Gregory tightened his hold on Lillian’s shoulders, and his tail lashed. Both signs he was faced with something he’d rather leave untouched. Curious, Lillian craned her neck to meet his eyes. “What is he talking about? Please tell me.”

“Very well. The time for secrets is past. I have tested everyone here; there is no recent darkness on any of your souls.” He paused and looked at the pooka and the banshee. “I will share a truth with you.” Gregory’s voice rumbled over her head, darker and more sinister than she’d ever recalled hearing. “If you want the truth, stay. But you shall never repeat this to anyone outside of this meadow—you will not be able to for my weaving will steal your words. After you’ve heard what I have to say, if any of you try to harm my lady, I will steal more than your words, I will escort the betrayer to the Spirit Realm myself. Stay or go, the choice is yours. I will give you a few minutes to decide among yourselves.”

Even immortals could be shocked into silence. Lillian didn’t take comfort in that fact though. What was so terrible about her past that Gregory would kill to keep it secret?

After his ultimatum, Gregory turned and marched over to her tree. He merged with the shadows to await the Council’s decision. When Lillian realized all the faces had switched from following the gargoyle to staring at her, she lost her nerve and bolted after the gargoyle.

She probed the shadows until she caught him, then locked her fingers around his arm. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Giving the truth.”

“Like the stuff you told me last night about our history?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t make me swear some kind of death oath.”

“No.”

She clinched her jaw. His one word answers were scaring her. “If we’re going to trust each other, you need to fill in some details.”

“What I reveal will be more than I’ve told you.” He sighed. “While I have not lied to you, I have not told you the full truth. I hope you can forgive me.”

Gran came over to them before Lillian could ask what he was talking about.

“The others are in agreement,” Gran said with a glance over her shoulder at the other tense–faced individuals waiting at the picnic tables. She frowned and Lillian wondered if Gran was annoyed that Gregory hadn’t told her everything up front. Gran wasn’t the only one.

After a moment, Gran schooled her expression and continued. “We agree to Gregory’s terms. If there is a secondary danger to us beyond the Riven, then we need to know what it is and how to protect ourselves.”

The gargoyle bowed his head in acknowledgment and followed Gran back to the table. Lillian trailed after, unsure if she wanted to hear what he’d kept secret.

Gregory didn’t sit. He seldom did, but now he stood unmoving, like he’d grown roots. “As Greenborrow already guessed, I am not
just
a gargoyle and Lillian is not
just
a dryad. She is the Mother’s Sorceress and I am the Father’s Gargoyle Protector. We are the Avatars of the Divine Ones, born to fulfill their purpose, to maintain the balance and hunt down evil intent on upsetting that balance.” He paused, his head bowed, like he fought for words.

The silence was so complete Lillian would hear a hummingbird if one flew across the glade at that moment. She stepped up next to Gregory and placed her hand in his. He glanced sideways at her and nodded his head. “Lillian does not remember who she is because I stole her memories.”

Lillian’s mind blanked at his words, too stunned to function. White noise filled her ears. It took her a few seconds to realize it was the buzz of conversation she heard. The other fae creatures at the table were shouting questions. She shouted louder than the others. “What? You … you stole my memories?” She jerked away from Gregory. Horror opened a hollow in her gut which betrayal quickly filled with bitterness. “Why?”

She had trusted him. All this time, he’d been responsible for the void in her mind where her childhood memories should have been.

Everyone at the table fell silent.

“I could not trust you because of where I found you.”

“Yesterday you told me you rescued me from my abductor, the Lady of Battles. You saved me from whatever she had planned.”

“I said I had rescued you from her, not that she had abducted you. And I’m not even sure if I’ve thwarted her plans.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A gargoyle stays in his mother’s tree for ten years before he is birthed fully mature. A dryad carries her daughters for only three. When we were both eight, you called me from my mother’s tree early, so I could rescue you from the Lady of Battles’ domain: the place where you had been conceived, born, and lived for eight years.”

Conceived. Born. Not kidnapped. His word shook her soul like felled trees crashing to the ground.

He continued, unaware he was trampling her fragile sense of truth. “From the time of your birth, and perhaps while you were still within your mother’s tree, you were shaped to become a tool for the Lady of Battles. I escaped with you, and then too weak to return home to the Magic Realm, I came here.”

“Oh my God. You couldn’t trust me,” Lillian said as she thought of something worse. “You were afraid of me, of what the Lady could make me do.”

He didn’t answer her right away, and that was enough to start a chill crawling up her spine.

“The Lady of Battles might have been using you as bait to lure me to her. Once she had us both, she may have planned to make us serve her by threatening the other. I don’t sense any evil upon you. When first I found you in the Black Kingdom, there was a dark taint, but here in this place, far from the dark one’s influence, you may have managed to purify yourself.”

She heard the doubt in his voice. “But you took my memories and still haven’t given them back. You’re afraid.”

“I can’t risk this world until I know for certain what she did to you.”

Lillian grabbed the edge of the table to stop her hands from trembling while she calmed the churning in her soul. It made sense now. Gregory hadn’t betrayed her; he’d done what he could to protect her—but not just her, everyone else too. If she wasn’t such a fool, she’d have seen that sooner. They were two halves of one soul—she could only imagine what keeping this secret had cost Gregory. Placing her hand in his, she touched his thoughts and projected her understanding and thanks, and then intertwined their fingers. “How will you find out if I’m a threat, and how will you deal with it if I am?”

“We need time.” He squeezed her fingers and then turned on the others sitting at the tables. “If I am given time, I think I can heal whatever was done to my Mistress. In a way, being trapped in this realm was a blessing. The Lady of Battles cannot reach into this realm from her prison, and likely has no idea what happened to the Sorceress. As long as we stay here, I think Lillian will be safe. At least for a little while.” He paused with a long look for the silver–skinned leader of the sidhe. “For the first time in many, many years I find myself in need of allies. I cannot defeat the Riven if I’m too busy protecting Lillian from both the Clan and the Coven. I must put my trust in you here today. Know I will fight your enemies alongside you if you agree to continue to shelter Lillian.”

Another silence stretched by, longer this time than the last, until the banshee pushed back her chair and stood. “Why should we help you? For all we know, when you breeched the Veil between the Realms, you opened a way for these evil creatures to enter our world. For the matter, it might have been your precious mistress who opened the way for them. You claim you don’t know what happened to her. How can you ask us to protect her when you don’t even know if she’s the one who betrayed us all?”

Greenborrow rapped on the table. “I say we give the gargoyle what aid he needs and then we accept his aid in turn. We grow fewer with each year. How much longer can we go on if we will not work together?”

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