Page 20 of Gifted to the Gargoyles

“There is no one else,” Atticus booms. “No one is more qualified to help souls cross the Bridge to the After Worlds. It’s what you were born to do. You already ease the transition of a few. At the Bridge, you could do the same for thousands. Millions.”

She shakes her head.

Atticus keeps talking. “You’re our last hope. If you refuse to compete in the trials, the Bridge will fall, and we’ll be executed.”

Son of a drunken carver. He didn’t. I want to throttle my twin for the guilt trip he lay at her feet. It doesn’t matter that it’s the truth.

Rosemarie stops and slowly spins to face us. “What do you mean executed?”

“If we fail, when we turn to stone with the next sunrise, we’ll be shattered,” he says. “There will be no putting the pieces together again like in your fairy tales. All that will remain of us is dust.”

“Both of you?” she asks and stares at me. Her dark eyes pull at me, hypnotic and demanding. “Don’t lie to me.”

I can’t lie to her, but I don’t want to answer. Gods, I hate putting her in this position. Saying what might happen to her is one thing, but what will happen to Atticus and me shouldn’t be her problem to deal with. Still, she’s my future queen, and her command is law. My wings droop with the massive weight that falls on my shoulders. The words get stuck in my throat so I nod, the movement jerky.

She shakes her head, glancing at Huey before looking back at me. “All right. I’ll do it.”

I struggle to suck in a breath. No. She agreed to the trials because of me. She didn’t say it, but it’s there in her gaze and in the way she answered. Why would she care about my fate? I’ve done nothing to earn her concern. I don’t know whether to be grateful…or ashamed.

“On one condition,” she adds.

“Name it,” Atticus says.

I can’t bear for him to bargain away her freedom. “No?—”

“I want to speak with my Lala. It’s why I went to the haunted house. If you can arrange that, I’ll compete in your trials.”

“Only the Bridge can give you access to your great-grandmother. When you win, it will grant one wish,” Atticus promises. “That would allow you to talk with her. I’m sure of it.”

“Then, I’m in.” Rosemarie lifts her chin, a regal pose that befits a future queen.

Gods, what have we done?

10

ROSEMARIE

TWO OF WANDS: PICK A PATH AND MAKE YOUR MOVE

Bonus Points If There’s Travel Involved.

Imust be the biggest idiot of all idiots to agree to their mad scheme. Still, the chance to see Lala, to ask her what she’d wanted to say brought me this far, and I can’t live with myself for being the reason a man…or gargoyle…was executed.

Definitely not Jace who looks at me as if I’m the most important person in his world. Of course my friends notice me, but Val and Ava have each other, and Meg loses herself in her game designs. My Lala saw me for who I am. With her gone, I’ve had no one, and now a gargoyle has come to life who dreams of me.

Yeah, the stalking bit is troublesome, but he did save me from the mugger.

Or they did.

Which brings me to Atticus—his grumpy, bossy, possessive twin. Who stares at me as if he might haul me over his shoulder and carry me off to some fantasy realm. Or have his wicked way with me right here in a graveyard. Given the heat and intensity sparking from his gaze, it could be a toss up as to which. Why do they both have to be nearly naked and so muscley? Is that even a word? It should be given their biceps are bigger than my thighs and their pec muscles go on for days.

Atticus sweeps his arm before him like we’re at a renaissance faire and he’s playing courtier. “At your service, my queen.” His tail curls in the same direction. I hadn’t noticed they had tails until Jace put me down, but now? Now, I can’t stop staring at them.

Think. They want me to travel to their realm—like that’s a real thing outside of comic books and movies—to keep their stone forms from being destroyed. I need to concentrate on more than their non-stone forms that are very much alive and attention-grabbing right now.

“This way.” Atticus gestures toward the tomb where I found him perched. I’d aced whatever stupid test he’d meant it to be when he’d pretended to be stone. I might suck at actual school exams, but I pay attention to what matters. Take that, fly boy. Any need to people please strangely deserts me when it comes to him.

The tomb stands twice as tall as me and even above the top of Jace’s closed wings. The marble structure tilts as if tipped by an earthquake.

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