Levet (Guardians of Eternity #9.5)(15)

No more.

“I do not make you less, Maman dearest. You were born without a soul,” he informed her, his voice clear and perfectly steady. “And I thank the gods that I am different from you. My life has mattered. Truly mattered. You will never be able to say the same.”

Berthe blinked, almost as if his words had struck a nerve. But even as he leaned forward to savor the brief victory, she had twisted her ugly features into a scowl.

“Release me,” she commanded.

“You will give me what I demand?”

A low growl vibrated the air. “Oui,” she at last managed to spit out.

“Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“Levet.”

Levet grimaced. He had no choice but to trust her word. One more second and he would collapse. Far better to allow her to think he’d released her out of the goodness of his heart.

“Bien. Let’s go,” he said, dropping his hands as the threads of magic unraveled and then disappeared with an audible hiss. He had barely managed to suck in a weary breath when his mother was surging away from the wall, grasping his wing between her claws. “Mon dieu,” he squeaked, as she gave a mighty push with her legs, sending them crashing through the ceiling. “Slow down.”

“Tais-toi,” Berthe snarled, spreading her wings to soar across Paris at an impressive speed.

Dangling at an awkward angle, Levet heaved a resigned sigh.

When was he going to be treated like a hero?

It was all very annoying.

Within a few minutes, they landed at an isolated tributary that dumped into the Seine. There was a long-forgotten entrance to the sewers hidden by a powerful illusion, which Berthe stomped through, not even bothering to glance in Levet’s direction.

Blowing a raspberry at her retreating back, Levet slowly followed in her wake. A task made easy by the cramped size of the tunnel that had been chiseled deep in the ground.

Taking full pleasure in watching his mother smack her head into the ceiling as she wrenched her large body through the doorway that protected the inner sanctum, Levet waddled in behind her.

The cavern was large, but empty beside a number of torches that spread a soft glow over the gray stone and the lone desk just a few feet from the door.

“Doyenne.” Rising from his seat behind the desk, a gargoyle several inches shorter than Berthe and built on far more slender lines, hurried forward.

Levet skipped out of the way as Emery performed a bow, deliberately ignoring Levet’s presence.

Ah . . . the pleasure of being shunned.

Not that Levet wanted to be acknowledged by the fussy bureaucrat who always acted like he had a stick stuck up his derrière.

“Emery.” She waited until the Protector of the Wall straightened, her expression impatient. “I have an official pronouncement.”

The gargoyle blinked, his wings fluttering in sudden agitation.

“But . . . the elders.”

Berthe grabbed her companion by the horn, dragging him until they were snout to snout.

“Do you question my right to rule this nest?”

“Non, Doyenne,” the peon said anxiously.

“Then stand aside.”

Emery hastily scrambled back to his desk, his leathery wings pressed tightly against his body as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

Levet knew the feeling.

His mother was an expert at making a man wilt.

With a suitably dramatic motion, Berthe turned to face the far side of the room. She gave a wave of her hand, causing the torches to flare higher so the smooth wall was revealed.

Levet felt a tingle of ancient power rush over him, in awe, as always, at the sight of the ancient artifact.

An object of magic, the Wall of Memories defied all laws of physics to soar through the ceiling into an endless darkness. Not that Levet glanced up. Infinity always made him dizzy.

The names etched into the stone shimmered in the light, pulsing as if in time to each individual heartbeat.

Berthe waved her hand and the names shifted, as if she’d turned the page. Another wave, another page.

Silence filled the cavern as Berthe continued to search through the names, at last squeezing her hand shut to freeze the Wall.

Then, stepping forward, she pointed her claw at an empty space on the stone.

“I, Doyenne of the Ascaric nest, do hereby un-shun Levet, son of Berthe, to the Guild of Gargoyles. From this night forward he is to be accepted within the Guild with full rights and voting privileges.”

There was a faint gasp of disbelief from Emery, but Levet’s attention was focused on the Wall as an unseen power skimmed over the stone, leaving behind his name etched in elegant script.

His chest swelled as pride filled his heart to overflowing.

He might be stunted. His magic might be . . . unpredictable.

And he might need a Dr. Phil intervention when it came to Yannah driving him batty, but he had done the impossible.

He was once again a full-fledged, card-carrying (okay, there wasn’t actually a card) member of the Gargoyle Guild.

Life was good.

Valla allowed Elijah to escort her back toward her apartment with conflicted emotions.

On one hand, she was disappointed they’d been unable to find Levet. As good as Elijah might be at tracking, he couldn’t fly, and while they’d hit most of the usual hangouts for gargoyles, they hadn’t managed to catch Levet’s scent.