Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(52)

The gargoyle cocked its head to the side, studying me with bright, blazing sapphire eyes, and I realized it was the same creature that had been watching me from the city rooftops earlier. Was this Maeven’s doing? Had she somehow enchanted the gargoyle and ordered it to kill me?

My hand tightened around my sword, and I reached for my immunity. I didn’t know how much magic gargoyles had, but I wasn’t going to be eaten alive without a fight.

The creature’s eyes narrowed, and it let out a low, angry growl, as if it knew exactly what I was thinking—

A girl’s face popped out from behind the gargoyle’s right wing, and I had to hold back a surprised shriek.

“That’s enough growling, Grimley. I think you’re scaring her.”

The girl moved around the gargoyle’s wing and stepped out where I could see her. Dark brown hair, blue eyes, pretty features.

“Gemma?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

She stared at me, blinking and blinking as though she couldn’t believe that I was really here. Then she let out a long, ragged sigh, rushed over, and wrapped her arms around me.

Her tight, enthusiastic hug surprised me and knocked me back against the railing. Grimley narrowed his eyes and let out another low, warning growl, telling me what he wanted me to do. I quickly put my arms around Gemma and hugged her back.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” She hugged me again. “I was so worried about you!”

Tears filled my eyes, and this time, my hug was entirely unprompted and completely genuine. “I was worried about you too.”

I’d thought she was dead, and Alvis and Xenia along with her, but there was no need to tell her that.

Gemma and I stood there for the better part of a minute, hugging each other. A shudder rippled through Gemma’s body, as if she was remembering everything that had happened that awful day at Seven Spire. Yeah, me too.

She held on to me a moment longer, then dropped her arms and stepped back. “I wanted to meet you at the rail station, but my father and grandfather wouldn’t allow it.” She rolled her eyes. “Stupid protocol.”

I grinned. Gemma seemed to have as little use for protocol as I did. “I understand.”

“I did make you a pie, though. Cranberry-apple, just like the ones you made at Seven Spire. I was going to bring it to you”—she winced—“but Grimley ate it.”

The gargoyle opened his mouth and let out a short, sharp growl that sounded suspiciously like a burp, as if confirming her words. I wondered if he’d eaten just the pie or if he’d gobbled down the tin with it. I eyed his razor-sharp teeth. Probably both.

“That’s okay.” I looked at the gargoyle, then over the balcony at the steep drop below. “So you . . . flew up here on the gargoyle?”

“Of course, silly. How else would I get up here?” Gemma rolled her eyes again, then went over and started rubbing Grimley’s head right behind one of his triangular ears.

The gargoyle grumbled with pleasure, then flopped down, rolled over onto his back, and stuck his short, stubby legs up into the air so that Gemma could lean down and scratch his tummy like he was an oversize puppy. Made of stone. With razor-sharp horns. And talons. And teeth that could either rip into or completely crush just about anything to bits.

“Is Grimley your . . . pet?” I asked.

The gargoyle fixed his bright blue eyes on me again and let out another low, angry growl.

“Hush, Grimley,” Gemma said, still rubbing his tummy like he wasn’t seconds away from jumping to his feet and eating me. “She didn’t mean that. Grimley doesn’t like the word pet. He’s my friend. All the palace gargoyles are my friends, but Grimley is my favorite, and I’m his favorite human. That’s why he came with me from the Spire Mountains when we fled from Bellona after the massacre.”

The gargoyle had followed her from the mountains all the way back to Glitnir? Gemma truly must have been his favorite human for him to travel such a great distance.

Xenia hadn’t told me about the gargoyle. Then again, she hadn’t said much of anything about her journey with Gemma and Alvis. But I was getting the impression that the three of them had had more adventures—and had been in much more danger—than I’d realized.

Grimley let out a happy little grumble, and Gemma grinned and scratched his tummy again. I’d heard of people having special connections to gargoyles, along with strixes and caladriuses, and I had seen some of those connections with the trainers who worked with the creatures at the Black Swan troupe. But even with the trainers, there was always the slight worry that the gargoyles and strixes would turn on them someday, since the creatures would always be wild animals at heart, no matter how much time they spent around humans.

However, I didn’t get any sense of that from Gemma and Grimley. She was totally unafraid of the gargoyle, and he seemed completely devoted to her. Perhaps she had some magic that let her have a deeper bond with the creature, or perhaps it was part of her royal blood. Legends said that the Ripleys were the first ones to ever befriend gargoyles.

Either way, I didn’t want to get on Grimley’s bad side, so I walked over, crouched down, and slowly held out my hand. The gargoyle stuck out his nose and sniffed my fingers.

“Magic . . . killer,” he rumbled in a low voice that reminded me of gravel crunching underfoot.