Page 22 of The Gargoyle’s Glade (The Gargoyle Knights #3)

Hands pressed over my eyes, I cried in earnest, the heavy emotion making my headache worse. Once I was finally wrung out, I looked around to realize the whole glade seemed far quieter than it should.

“What …?”

The herds and flocks had hemmed me in—a wall of creatures all around me, a wide shadow covered the ground where the birds hovered in the sky over my head.

They had never once felt threatening. Never moved in a way that seemed anything other than curious, patient.

But they were too close, too quiet. I was more raw than normal, so their presence, their sorrow for my sadness felt heavy.

I glanced around, throat dry. I held my hands out as I slowly got to my feet. “Thank you for helping me search. I wish I knew what you wanted, I feel terrible I can’t help you.”

As the fog of my panic cleared, everything went from too quiet to too loud.

It was like I’d had my ears stuffed with cotton, and I’d finally taken it out.

The world around me exploded with violent noise and frantic movement.

Heavy wings beat a brutal tattoo on the air; all of the normally cute little squeaks and grunts stabbed at my ears like screams. I was paralyzed by dozens of sets of eyes locking onto mine at the same time, the sound of my racing heartbeat throbbing in my ears.

I fell to my knees, pain blossoming as I hit the stones.

I pressed my hands over my ears and squeezed my eyes closed. I might have screamed but couldn’t hear myself.

Friend! Listen. Welcome! Blessings, Keeper!

Help, friend! Ceremony soon? Sorceress, friend!

Help too? Celebrate! Happy! Hear us, friend?

Speak now, friend? Welcome! Hear? Accept?

Friend! Speak? Loyal, friend. Hello! Accept pledge.

Excitement, friend. Welcome, Keeper! Hear, friend?

Speak, friend? Contract? Beautiful, friend!

“Please.” The word escaped me as a whisper, nothing more than a puff of air against the gale assaulting my senses. They were not trying to hurt me, but some kind of veil had been lifted, and everything was rushing in at once. “One at a time. Please, slow down, I can’t… It’s too much.”

Their voices piled one on top of another in my head, whispers and shouts and everything in between. There was joy, excitement, urgency, all mashed together in a torrent of sound.

I could feel the edges of my sanity fraying away, and it was almost a relief.

Because if I wasn’t sane anymore, I wouldn’t care a whit about what was happening.

It would all be fine again on the other side of madness.

They crept closer as I curled into myself.

I could feel their concern, that they’d noticed it was more than I could bear, but it was too late.

Help? Unwell? Sorry, friend. Help! Speak now, friend? Danger? No hurt!

The mind fracturing is an odd sensation.

Warm, somehow. Even my awareness of what was happening didn’t overwhelm the feeling of peace as the cacophony in my head lightened to a low hum.

Eventually there was just white noise, like I was trapped with my head under a waterfall. I couldn’t see, couldn’t move.

Then, darkness came.

Coltor’s booming voice cut through the black space in my head.

“Off with you! Leave her be! Shoo! Go on! AWAY, THE LOT OF YOU!” The ground trembled as he loosed a monstrous roar, and a gust of wind blew across me as he beat his massive wings.

There was a brief burst of animal chatter, noises of surprise and fear, then the flap of feathers and clop of hooves as they left.

Many of the creatures had pressed against my body, trying to help restore me in their own way, but I didn’t blame them for fleeing.

There was no way for me to explain what had happened at the moment.

“Merry?” The tremor in his voice echoed through my chest, his fear palpable. “Merry!” His fingertips trembled, but they were warm as they pressed against the side of my throat. “Thank the saints.”

I couldn’t make my muscles relax. My eyes were closed, and the heavy lids wouldn’t budge.

My body had curled into as small a ball as it could manage, a defense against the onslaught of sound from the creatures that had swarmed around me.

By the time they’d realized it was too much and settled down, I was frozen in that position.

“I’ve got you. You’re alright.”

I nodded—or tried to. Nothing seemed to work right. I was present in my own head, but I felt oddly untethered from my body.

Coltor’s warmth surrounded me, one arm under my legs, the other tight around my back. I breathed him in, reveling in warm earth and woodsmoke.

His low voice rumbled through me. “You’re not allowed to go yet, little firebird. I’ve only just found you.” My heart did that funny beat again, too fast, like it was skipping, then squeezed in my chest. The sensation was unnerving, even in my current state.

He crossed the glade smoothly, like his feet weren’t touching the ground. He avoided jostling me, but his large frame moved quickly. It occurred to me belatedly that he’d likely used his wings.

I was finally able to force my eyes open as we neared my cabin. Sensation was returning to my body, but very faintly, like a little needle sting. My fingers and toes were still unresponsive to my demands to wiggle, and my extremities felt like they were buried under heaps of wet soil.

“The wards will be a little better there. And I have my supplies.” He muttered the words to himself as much as me as he continued past my cabin toward his.

Once inside, he set me carefully on the plush chair in the living room.

He knelt down, a warm palm on either side of my face, his dark eyes rounded with concern.

I realized then that my gaze wasn’t following him when he moved, though my eyes blinked at regular intervals.

I was truly trapped inside myself, not in control at all.

It should have worried me, but I was floating somewhere above such inconvenient emotions.

“You’re still in there, aren’t you, Merry?”

I tried to signal to my body that my head should nod or that my eyes should blink— anything to show that I’d heard his question. But nothing happened.

“Not dead, but not alive either. Useless, cursed gift.” It sounded almost like an accusation, but it didn’t feel like it was aimed at me.

Coltor stuffed pillows around me so I couldn’t slouch or tip out of the seat, then crossed the handful of steps into his tiny kitchen. Cabinet doors opened and closed as his muttering devolved into colorful swearing.

“I need you to drink this. I got it from Greta, so it’s as safe as any magical elixir can be.

It should help.” I couldn’t do any kind of assisting, so Coltor tilted my head back, parted my lips and poured some of the contents from a vial of pink, shimmery liquid into my mouth.

His thumb massaged my throat so that it would go down properly.

It struck me then how truly precarious my situation was. If such a thing had happened anywhere else, I’d have been in serious trouble.

He frowned but rose to dispose of the dishes. I could only stare at the wall as he moved around me, grumbling.

“What do I do? Take her with me to the demons? Go to Lovette?” I could hear the splash of water, the clank of dishes in a sink. “The elixir should work soon, and resting is probably safe.” He returned to my side. “Tell me what to do, Merry. Yell at me. Cry. Anything.”

I didn’t feel particularly unwell, disconnection between my mind and body aside. I didn’t know what a healer could do that whatever was in that elixir couldn’t. Not that I could tell him so.

“I can’t leave you like this. You need to be seen by someone.” He stood, took two steps, then stopped again. “But I’m not sure it’s best for you to portal right now.” He growled. “What do I do ?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he bent and scooped me into his arms, and there was sky above me again. I watched over his shoulder as his wings deployed, and he carried us quickly to Seir and Hailon’s cabin.

“Coltor?” Seir’s tone held a note of urgency.

“I need your help.” The desperation in Coltor’s voice broke my heart. I couldn’t even hold onto him as he carried me.

“Of course, come in.”

Hailon’s voice came from the other side of the cabin. “What’s happened?”

“I found her by the pools. The animals, they were all around her. She was curled up, like she was protecting herself.” He set me on their sofa, and Hailon came to kneel in front of me, her eyes full of concern.

She snapped her fingers, waved her hand.

I blinked, but not because I was intentionally responding.

I could hear the animals still, quiet now, worried and apologetic. But there was no way for me to tell them that the creatures hadn’t intentionally harmed me.

“Seir? Can you?—”

“I’ll get the mirror.”

My body started to feel warm, tingly. It wasn’t unlike how I’d felt one Yule after enjoying far too much spiced cider the Mullvaney twins had spiked with their father’s corn liquor.

I lay there on the plush sofa, melting into the cushions as the elixir began to work, their voices blending together into a soft, familiar noise.

I floated back into consciousness over several brief intervals, never long enough to truly grasp onto how much time might have passed.

Once, there’d been a very concerned blonde woman staring into my face and gently prodding at my limbs.

Another time, I could hear both Rylan and Vassago, but I got the impression they were not actually in the room.

Then, I heard Greta, but the same odd distant echo was there.

Nobody seemed overly panicked, and that was oddly reassuring.

I still controlled no part of myself, but it was warm and cozy in the little cocoon I was in, so I didn’t care.

The next time I woke, it was to the sound of furniture scraping the floor. The woodsy smell of Coltor was heavy in the air.

“We’ll fix it,” he promised on a whisper. “You’re going to be alright.” He picked me up as though I weighed nothing and carried me a few steps, then laid me on a bed.

Coltor maneuvered me under the blankets and tucked me in tight before settling in behind me. I was immersed in the scent of woodsmoke and warm earth, his essence all around me.

I begged my eyes to open, if only for a moment, and was granted a couple of seconds to orient myself.

I was next to and facing a wall, and I suspected that the bed was the furniture I’d heard being shifted around.

It was thoughtful, honestly. While I wasn’t normally one to roll off the side of a bed, as I had no control to speak of, I supposed it was a possibility.

His palm wrapped around my neck, his fingertips resting over where he could feel my heartbeat. Normally, someone’s hand on my throat might have made me feel either murderous or like an overheated puddle in their hands. This, however, was a sweet gesture of concern.

My eyes slid closed, and I settled in, comfortable as the darkness took me again.