Gates of Thread and Stone(22)

A figure darted between the rocks, keeping pace with the Gray despite our speed. I squinted. The figure ran on all fours, with a long tail whipping behind it.

“Avan,” I rasped, my hands flattening against his stomach.

A gargoyle.





CHAPTER 11




GARGOYLES HAD BEEN native reptiles once, before Rebirth happened more than two centuries ago. But the mass collision of magic and technology during the war had changed them and killed off their major predators. Then, Kahl Ninurta I had taken their evolution a step further by combining them with other lizards to create monstrous chimera. But something had gone wrong—I didn’t know what; I assumed the Kahl lost control of them—and he’d abandoned the project, killing those he could and unleashing the rest into the Outlands.

“They’ve been following us for a while,” Avan said evenly. “I didn’t want to alarm you.”

Several more figures darted into view. Their powerful legs carried them over the jagged rocks with little trouble. My heart jumped. Of course—they traveled in packs. They must’ve been aware I’d seen them because the one on the rocks jumped off and continued along the flat earth, less than twenty feet away and in full view.

“Well, I’m alarmed,” I snapped, and then felt immediately guilty. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I’d heard plenty about the gargoyles but not much about how they looked. The creature following us had a broad head with frills extending over a thick neck and a spiny back. It was lean and long, with sinewy muscles stretching beneath brown skin that looked as hard and dry as the earth.

Seeing a gargoyle for real made me think about the demons they were whispered to be. The creature looked like something that might have crawled out of fire and brimstone, breathing shadow and smoke.

“What are they waiting for?” I asked.

“Not sure.”

The Gray’s hooves stumbled. I tore my gaze from the gargoyles and held on tight as Avan maneuvered the Gray into a steady gallop. I peered over Avan’s shoulder at the controls. I didn’t know much about Grays, but I could figure out what a frantically flashing light meant. Even in full daylight, I could tell the energy stone was considerably dimmer.

“Hmm,” Avan said, sounding a lot calmer than I felt. “Definitely smarter than I expected.”

I connected the dots. The gargoyles had been biding their time, waiting for our energy stone to die out. I tried not to panic but didn’t do a very good job.

“I thought you said the stone would last us to the Void,” I said.

“That was my optimism talking.”

I dug my fingers into his stomach and felt his muscles contract. I slid my hand higher, my palm pressed to his chest, and was somewhat relieved to discover that his heartbeat wasn’t nearly as steady as his voice.

“Hold on,” he said.

He bent lower over the Gray’s neck, and I followed suit. I turned slightly to keep an eye on the gargoyles as the Gray burst forward. My arms tightened around Avan. The wind stung my face and tugged at our clothes.

Every sense sharpened as we raced closer to the tree line. The gargoyles picked up speed along with us. But we were faster. They slowly fell behind.

The forest was less than a mile ahead. We could make it.

The gargoyles must have realized this as well because they abandoned their strategy to bide their time and began aiming their claws for the Gray’s legs and flanks. I could hear their snarls and guttural snorts. Clicks and grunts.

“I think they’re talking to each other,” I said. Maybe the Kahl had combined them with other creatures we didn’t know about.

Up ahead, the trees were a blockade of brown bark and dry branches, rushing to meet us. I didn’t see enough space for the Gray.

“Drek,” I whispered, and clenched my eyes shut.

We crashed through the forest. I held on as the Gray galloped along, jarring us back and forth. Bark scraped my arms. Branches raked across my skin and ripped through my hair. I tucked my face between Avan’s shoulder blades as he forced the Gray through. I dared a glance behind us but couldn’t see the gargoyles. I heard them, though. They mowed through the underbrush with the coarse sound of claws tearing through roots and dirt and scoring the trees.

The Gray stumbled again.

I gasped as its front legs rammed into a raised root, the noise screaming in my ears. Or maybe that was me. I lost my grip on Avan, and we flew off the saddle, sailing into the branches. Brown and green whirled in dizzying and painful confusion. I brought up my arms to shield my head as something smashed into my back and shoulder. The air rushed from my lungs. For several excruciating seconds, I couldn’t move or breathe.

Then I groaned, prayed nothing was broken, and pushed up onto my hands and knees. A few yards away, the Gray lay on its side, metal warped and chest smoking. I blinked through my burning eyes and found Avan also lying nearby. His arm didn’t look right.

My ears were ringing. I tried to say his name.

A huge gargoyle burst through the trees and landed on top of the Gray. The metal groaned beneath the gargoyle’s weight. The creature looked at me and then at Avan. It pounced.

Time crept to a near stop. I heaved forward, fighting against the threads that tied me to its flow. For the first time, I felt them snap around me. My limbs moved quicker, more easily. I focused on Avan’s prone form and the gargoyle—its body extended midleap, its open mouth exposing two sets of serrated teeth, and its curved claws aimed at Avan. The threads brushed against me but didn’t drag. I was free of them.