Page 10 of The Gargoyle and the Maiden (Nightfall Guardians #1)

The space inside was smaller and more intimate than the main chamber, dominated by a large depression in the floor lined with soft furs and cushions. His sleeping place. She curled up in the shadows behind a carved screen, her heart hammering as she listened to the muffled conversation outside.

“—just a training accident,” Brandt was saying. “Rikard got a bit overenthusiastic. Nothing serious.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“Barely scratches. How was the skyball?”

“Crowded as usual. I talked with a fourth-tier female whose daughter might be looking for a mate next year.”

Brandt made a noncommittal grunt. There was a pause, and Idabel held her breath. Could his mother smell her? Even washed, did some trace of the war-bat scent remain?

“If you’re certain you’re all right...”

“I’m fine. Go roost. Dawn will be here soon.”

More footsteps, then the sound of a door closing. After what felt like an eternity, Brandt appeared in the archway to the nest. In the pre-dawn gloom, she could barely make out his silhouette.

“Stay here until full light,” he said quietly. “Then slip out while we’re stone. If the keepers ask you what happened, pretend ignorance of the whole affair. It’s better if they don’t drag you in front of the Nadir.”

She nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

She could feel his heavy gaze on her even in the darkness. “This has to stop, Idabel. Whatever you’re truly after, whatever someone has promised you, it’s not worth your life. I told you, we don’t bite .”

“I know,” she whispered, cheeks heating with shame. He had warned her against it. Some things were worth the risk, though, even if it didn’t work out.

“Do you? Because I’m leaving soon. I won’t be here to pull you away from the cliff’s edge next time.”

Before she could answer, the first pale light of dawn crept through the doorway behind him.

She watched, transfixed, as Brandt’s form began to change.

It was swift and silent. His breathing slowed, then stopped altogether.

His hide took on the matte finish of stone, and within moments he stood frozen like a statue in the archway.

Idabel crept closer, studying his transformed face. In daysleep, the harsh lines of worry and command had smoothed under the layer of hardened skin. She reached out tentatively and touched his cheek. Cool and smooth, like marble.

The stitches she’d sewn with such care were still there, binding the wounds closed, but what had been silk thread was now hard as rock and bound together cracks in a stone statue.

Her shoulders sagged, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline of the night was wearing off, leaving her shaky and hollow. She rubbed her forehead, then realized she still had Brandt’s blood on her hands. She rushed to the basin in the main chamber and scrubbed it off.

The daylight strengthened, and she knew she needed to leave before the keepers began their rounds.

Hurrying to the training tier, she found her bucket tucked in a corner where it had rolled last night.

Then she made her way to the storage rooms on ground level, where she changed her apron and tied a rag over her hair, pretending as though she’d just arrived at work.

“You there!” A sharp voice cut through the quiet. Idabel looked up to see one of the head keepers approaching, her hood drawn up. “Did you stay late last night?”

Idabel’s pulse quickened, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. “No. I finished my rounds and went straight back to Maiden Hall.” The lie came easily. “Why do you ask?”

“There was some kind of disturbance. A gargoyle claimed there was a goblin spy in the Tower.” The keeper’s eyes were sharp beneath her hood. “Nonsense, of course, but it has everyone on edge. You didn’t see anything unusual? Anyone who didn’t belong?”

“Nothing at all.” Idabel returned to her polishing, letting confusion color her voice. “A goblin spy? How would one even get past the city walls?”

The keeper made a dismissive sound. “Exactly what I told the Nadir. Young warriors seeing enemies in every shadow, that’s all. Still, keep your eyes open. Report anything strange.”

“Of course.” Idabel bobbed a dutiful curtsy as the keeper moved on, her heart hammering against her ribs. When the woman’s footsteps faded, she sank against the wall, hands trembling. How easily the deception had come. How naturally she’d become someone who lied to keep her secrets safe.

As she began her rounds, she tried to lose herself in the familiar tasks of scraping, sweeping, scrubbing, and polishing. But her mind kept drifting back to the way Brandt had begged her to stop risking herself. Her gargoyle had turned to stone with that pleading expression frozen on his face.

She had a choice to make. She could continue down this path, seeking out ways to provoke the gargoyles until one of them finally gave her what she wanted. Or she could find another way, a way that didn’t involve putting gargoyles like the poor confused young warrior in impossible positions.

The trouble was, she wasn’t sure she knew any other way forward. Not if she wanted an apprenticeship.