The Shadowed Path

15. Lawrence

15

Lawrence

With Sir Raleigh in the lead, we ran into the woods. My steps dragged, both because of physical weariness and the tug of the battle behind me. Old memories emerged, of gargoyles around a fire toasting to the heroes of legend…who didn't run away. I again felt my inner gargoyle close to the surface, the animal instincts that wanted to run back and snarl in the face of danger, protecting…

…protecting the Fae who had betrayed and lied to me. Who had put me, my best friend, and my goddaughter in danger for who knew what purpose? I lifted my chin and marched on. These humans were my task now, not the Fae. The legends of how gargoyles had protected them in the past must have been a mix-up or something. Old tales did that—took the kernels of truth and dressed them up until they became practically meaningless fodder for kids' movies. What would this one be called—Lying Beauty? Blood Is Thicker Than Truth? Gargoyles Be Stupid?

The farther we went, the more the trees and mist pressed in on us, and we had to slow down so we wouldn't lose the path. Although I had no Fae blood as far as I knew, I had no doubt that if we were to step off the trail, we'd be faced with a mirage of the same rows of trees in all directions, basically like a hall of mirrors without our reflections that would swallow and starve us…or worse.

Kestrel's voice floated through my anxious reverie. "Uncle Lawrence, are you okay? Would you be better if you changed to human?"

"Probably, but I can't. I'm stuck."

John glanced over his shoulder at me. "You're stuck? Has that ever happened to you before?"

"Never." Although Sir Raleigh led us, and I suspected he could report to Reine or Ellerin, there was no point in deception, and I needed them to know the truth. "And the longer I'm in this form, the more likely I am to be stuck here."

Kestrel's eyes widened. "And then what happens?"

"Then I go insane and turn to stone." I shrugged. "Y'know, the fate of magical creatures who tempt the gods."

John, ever the scientist, asked, "Do you have actual evidence for this, or is it legend?"

I chuckled since I'd just been pondering something similar. "Unfortunately, I have evidence. My Uncle Augie, my father's brother, succumbed to his inner gargoyle and stayed there too long. He tried to return to the Aerie—where the gargoyle clans, or what's left of them, now live—but didn't make it before sunrise on his final day. He now guards the entrance to the Aerie in stone form along with all the others who have failed."

John didn't look convinced. "That's a family legend, but a story nonetheless. Have you ever seen this stone gargoyle?"

"No, I've never been to the Aerie." I hoped they didn't ask why. I didn't know myself why some gargoyles lived there and some didn't. I suspected those who didn't liked modern human conveniences, whatever modern meant at the time. Or maybe there weren't enough resources.

Kestrel tripped over something, then righted herself. I couldn't see what had made her stumble. "You okay?" I asked.

"Yes. Something about this place feels off." She wrinkled her nose. "It's like when you walk into a place where something has died, but a long time ago. Like, you know it happened, and there's a sense of wrongness, but you can't tell why."

"Then we should probably stop talking and pay attention."

Sir Raleigh looked over his shoulder and nodded at me, then bared his teeth. Yes. Danger.

I blinked. Had he just spoken to me? He turned back to the direction we traveled in.

The mist grew thicker, although I hadn't thought that was possible. Soon we practically walked on top of each other and held hands so we wouldn't lose anyone. As the rear guard, I felt like something pressed in on me, or at least watched me, from behind. My shoulder blades under my wings twitched with the discomfort of vulnerability and exposure.

John stumbled to a halt and bent, moving his hands from ours to his knees. "I don't know how much longer I can go."

"Dad, what's wrong?" Kestrel placed a hand on his shoulder, then the other to her mouth when she looked up and saw…something. "Oh, gods. Mom."

John stood and put his arms around his daughter. "You see her, too?"

Sir Raleigh sat on the path, his paws pointed forward, for which I was grateful. At least he'd keep us moving in the right direction.

I squinted into the mist. "I don't see anything. It must be the magic of the place."

Sir Raleigh stood and twitched his tail in my face. I hesitated to grab it—what cat likes its tail pulled?—but he flicked its soft end against my nose. I held it, then touched Kestrel. She blinked.

"She's gone. Mom? Mom!"

John straightened. "I don't see her anymore. Beverly!"

"It's something the grimalkin is doing." I smiled down at Sir Raleigh. "You're a creature of the gray Fae, aren't you? That's how you can protect us from its magic."

Sir Raleigh nodded and stepped forward. We moved along with me holding on to him with one hand and to Kestrel with the other, leaving John in the rear. I wanted to ask what they'd seen Beverly doing, but I also sensed that they might sink into sorrow, which wouldn't help any of us get to where we needed to be.

"Are we there yet?" I asked, not expecting an answer but needing to do something to dispel the thick silence around us. All forest sounds had ceased, and although the air moved, it didn't rustle the leaves or give any other indication of its presence. Another illusion?

“Almost. But the Gray Zone demands a price.”

"I see."

"What?" Kestrel squeezed my hand. "Is he talking to you?"

I half-smiled. "Reluctantly. He said the Gray Zone demands a price. Whatever happens, don't let go."

The path turned downward, and the shadows of trees around us disappeared. We came to a stream just wide enough that we wouldn't be able to easily step or jump over it.

Sir Raleigh turned to me and gently pulled his tail from my hand. He touched the back of my wrist with his cold nose. “This is as far as I can help you. Remember your path.” Then he jumped across the stream and disappeared into the mist beyond.

"Wait!" John's voice had gone into full panic pitch. "Wait, don't leave us! What did he say to you?"

"To remember our path." We joined hands in a circle and looked into each other's eyes. "Remember why you're here. That's the moral of most fairy tales, right? Remember who you are and do the right thing. We're in one and have to play the game right."