Gates of Thread and Stone(23)

I scrambled for the rear of the Gray, reaching for the prostitute’s knife that had fallen from my strewn bag. Then I threw myself in front of Avan and brought up the knife, slashing at the gargoyle’s chest just as my grip on time slipped. Time sprang forward.

All the air left me again when the gargoyle crashed into me. My back hit the ground, the creature crushing me. I couldn’t even shout.

My hands came up as I braced for the pain of claws and teeth—but the gargoyle slid off me, slumping to the forest floor. Blood from the knife wound pooled around its chest.

More gargoyles broke through the trees, pausing near the Gray to take in the scene. They growled, coming closer. I forced myself to my feet, standing between them and Avan. I gripped the knife so hard that my hands hurt.

Don’t think. Don’t think. I could move free of time now. I could do this.

I reached again for the threads.





CHAPTER 12




THE GARGOYLES STOPPED.

It wasn’t me—I hadn’t touched time yet. Since I couldn’t hold on to the threads for long, I had to plan it just right.

One of the gargoyles lowered its head, luminous yellow eyes flicking between me and the dead gargoyle at my feet. A tremor went through its frills, and the other gargoyles backed away. The rest of them lowered their heads as one.

I licked my dry lips, my bravado ebbing. They didn’t look as if they were determining how best to eat me. If anything, they looked wary, but what did I know about reptiles?

Maybe they hadn’t expected to lose one of their own. Honestly, I had no idea how I’d even killed the other one, because I was pretty sure I hadn’t cut it deep enough. Their tawny gazes were unflinching. I held their stares. I couldn’t show them weakness, even while my heart pounded in my ears and my breath came in frantic pants.

“Come on,” I breathed, lifting the knife higher. The threads glittered around me. “If we’re going to do this, then let’s do this.”

After a moment, it dawned on me that they weren’t looking at me at all. They were looking at the knife in my hands.

Avan groaned behind me. I heard the rustling of underbrush.

“Stay still!” I shouted without checking to see if he listened. “You’re—”

“Fine,” he said.

He appeared beside me, brushing off his torn tunic. I didn’t dare look away from the gargoyles to inspect his injury.

“What are they waiting for now?” Avan asked, raising a broken branch that I doubted would be much of an obstacle for their claws.

The gargoyles looked at Avan, then back at the knife. Suddenly, in unison, they slunk away. They kept their heads down and their bodies low, sliding over root and bush until they had melted into the forest.

I waited, fear and adrenaline still pumping beneath my skin. Why would they just leave? Was this a trick? Maybe they were circling to attack from behind.

“I think they’re gone,” Avan said. “That was pretty strange.”

He lowered his makeshift weapon. I barely heard him.

“Kai.” His fingertips brushed over my knuckles, coaxing the knife from my rigid hands. I had to remember how to uncurl my fingers.

Once Avan had the knife, all the energy drained from my limbs. My body folded. Avan caught me around the waist before my knees hit the dirt.

“They left,” I said, sagging against him in disbelief. I didn’t think I could have fought off a whole pack.

“You okay?” he asked, setting me down. “Hurt anywhere?”

Everything hurt. But I shook my head because I could still move, which probably meant nothing was broken. And we were alive. Amazingly.

“What about you? How’s your arm?”


His hair was mussed, and bits of leaves tangled in the dark strands, but his expression was composed. I touched his shoulder tentatively. My hands passed down his arm, at the spot where I was certain it had been broken, but I felt nothing.

“What? I thought . . .” I ran my hand back up to his shoulder and then trailed my fingers down his chest, searching for injuries. I must have seen wrong—I had been reeling from the crash and panicking about the gargoyles.

He cleared his throat. My fingers stilled over his stomach. He gently pushed my hands away and stood. “I’m not hurt.”

I gripped my shirt. My knuckles stung in protest. “Sorry, I didn’t—” I’d practically groped him. “I was worried. I could have sworn I— I’m sorry.”

He flicked hair off his face, leaving a streak of dirt on his forehead. “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

I gathered my wits, which currently lay scattered with the debris from our crash landing. We’d have to leave the Gray behind. It was useless now. Same with the energy stone, which was all but spent. Avan kept the branch; a crude weapon was better than none. Then we gathered up our bags, and I took out the map to determine our location. But after our blind charge into the trees, I couldn’t be sure which direction we needed to take without a compass.

Looked like we were on our own.



We walked for hours. Even though I wasn’t hungry, I ate to keep up my strength. Avan took the lead. I placed the knife in my bag, within easy reach.

The forest looked exactly the way the history texts described it. I was happy to know that some places had successfully recovered after Rebirth. Everything was green. Alive. The trees near the border with the Outlands had been brown and brittle, but the deeper we traveled, the taller and healthier they grew. These looked as tall as the towers in the White Court, and the branches grew so thick that they blocked out the clouds.