Page 55 of A Lost Light

He held the faintest ball of magic between his big hands. I watched curiously as he knelt down and gently pushed the magic into a nearby plant. Mint of some sort. And the thought made me crave some good quality catmint. I could almost feel the euphoria the herb could cause. Maybe Oleander would be able to grow some for me, if I could manage to obtain the seeds….

I sat cross-legged on a nearby bench made of large, twisted vines and patiently waited. Eventually the gargoyle finished what he was doing and glanced up at me with his fascinating yellow eyes. “Hello,” he said in a deep, gravely rumble that always made me want to purr.

I gestured to the plant he had just been fiddling with. “What were you doing?” Magic was always interesting to me. I couldn't really cast spells or anything like that. A shifter wasmadeof magic, and if we had additional abilities they were limited to a few specific tricks. Most paranormal creatures were the same—only able to perform whatever magic was inherent in their nature. Witches and fae were the only real casters. But it was my understanding that while gargoyles were also made up of magic, like us shifters, they could learn to do some casting.

Zhong's light gray cheeks flushed dusky pink as he ran a hand through his springy curls and over a horn, looking adorably flustered. “Oh. I… Um. Andy has been teaching me some magichere and there, when she has time. I can't do much. It's hard for me to make my magic… external, if that makes sense? But I was practicing. Just a little charm to help the plants grow.”

I smiled at him. A gargoyle's focus was usually on the home, on protecting the physical structures and fortifying the place their master resided. But somehow, I wasn't at all surprised to find this particular gargoyle extending his skills to gardening. There was something so… solid and warm about him. Nurturing. I thought perhaps his idea of “home” and what needed protecting might be a bit different from some others of his kind. Maybe that was what made it possible for him to use his magic this way.

“Do the others tease you for wanting to learn magic?” I asked, tilting my head as I observed the way he looked at the ground when he stood. As if he was embarrassed.

He glanced at me in surprise, then came over to sit next to me, taking up the rest of the considerably large bench. “No,” he replied to my question. “Why would they?”

Interesting. “You seemed embarrassed about it.”

He shrugged and resettled his massive wings against his back, the ends trailing over the back of the bench to the ground. “Oh. Well… before I came here, I was determined to learn magic. To make some sort of living for myself. People I knew then seemed to think it was a stupid dream.” He met my eyes, and a small smile quirked his chiseled lips. “But it’s different here. When I told Andy about wanting to learn magic, she didn't seem to think it was silly at all. And she doesn't mind teaching me. No one else seems to really have an opinion about it one way or another. It's nice. That they just accept my interest as normal.”

I hummed in understanding. Then I frowned. “Even the jinn?”

Zhong laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up and honest amusement in his open expression. “Everyone knows not to take anything Aahil says at face value.”

I arched my brows at him. The gargoyle seemed like he might be more… sensitive, I supposed. It was surprising to me that he seemed unconcerned with any implied slights the tiny terror might throw his way. “Is that so?”

He shook his head, his smile fading a bit, but still lingering around one corners of his wide mouth. “It took us all a while to really get to know and understand one another,” he said easily. “And I admit, Ihatedhim at first. He was out of control. A danger to everyone around him—especially Andy. But… he's gotten a lot better. And somewhere along the way, I realized that the more he pushes someone away, the more he actually wants them to love him.”

Now that answer really was surprising. And insightful. I considered this for a moment. But it seemed to fit. Hadn't I just witnessed the affection between Niamh and Aahil not too long ago? I was surprised that they all had the patience required to love someone as difficult and complex as the fiery jinn. But by this point, I supposed nothing should surprise me anymore.

“Are you intimate with him?” I asked, my mind whirring with questions, still putting all the puzzle pieces together. If I remained here, what would bemyplace in this clearly tight-knit family? I only realized the rudeness of my question when Zhong paused. “Oh. I'm sorry. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain.” I waved a hand. “I was simply curious how you all fit with each other and the nature of your relationships. I didn't mean to pry.”

But the gargoyle just shrugged and answered the question honestly. “We have been a time or two,” he said, looking down at his big hands, which were clasped between his knees. “He has a way of knowing what a person wants. Part of what he is, I suppose. And… he's a better person than he likes everyone to think he is.”

I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them as I considered this. “I know that Niamh isn't interested in men. But do you all fuck each other? Are you all Andy's lovers? How did that happen?”

He gave me a sideways glance, but didn't balk at my odd questions. I expected at least a little reprimand for being so weird and direct. But no. The gargoyle just rolled with it.

“Well… it's not like she's collecting some sort of super-powered harem or something,” he said slowly. “Master—uh, Andy—rescued us all. She freed us from a grimoire where her ancestors had trapped us so they could call on our magic and abilities anytime they wanted.” He shrugged his massive shoulders.” I think every one of us came out of that situation with a different set of wounds. But we all had one thing in common—we were suddenly lost and adrift. The lives we had led and the people we knew before our imprisonment were gone. And Andy just… took us in. Gave us a home.” His smile was warm and genuine. “I can't speak for the others, but I felt drawn to her the moment I met her—once I convinced myself I wanted to keep on living, that is. And the others grew on me along the way. We’re all in love with Andy. And some of us have found deeper connections with the others as well.” He shrugged again, and I had to pry my eyes away from the distracting way he rippled with muscle.

“I see,” I said slowly. “I suppose the connection was natural, given what you've all been through. And your master certainly is an attractive woman. She seems to love you all fiercely.”

“What about you?” he asked, turning to face me on the bench, a curiosity to match my own etched on his handsome face. “I'd like to think you aren't really here to spy on us like we first suspected. But you have a family out there in the real world, right? A clan. A place you belong. And you seem pretty invested in the rebel cause. Why are you here?”

Why was I here? I had asked myself that question quite often since I made the decision to stay here with these people in this strange mansion in a pocket world. “I don't know,” I said honestly. “You know about my luck magic, right?” At his nod, I continued. “Well, I tend to be a bit of a… free spirit. I go where my magic directs me. I've lived my whole life based on what feels right. And for some reason, this feels like the place I should be.” I shrugged, confounded. “It makes no sense, logically. But I've never put much weight in logic—at least, not when it comes to the heart and soul.”

He grinned at me, showing fangs. “All that knowledge you're always gathering. The books you've always got your nose stuck in. I would have thought you'd be logical to a fault.”

I waved a hand dismissively. “I like to know things. Learning new information is exhilarating. But I've never understood the scholarly need to be all serious about it. Information leads toideas, andimagination, andexploration.Why try to make it all fit into a bunch of arbitrary rules? We have instincts, and hearts, and souls for a reason, don't you think?”

He watched me for a moment, maybe thinking what everyone always seemed to think about my approach to life—that I was flighty, scatterbrained, not serious enough about some things and too serious about others. In a word, weird.

“I get it,” he said finally. “That's kind of how I felt about staying here once I was free. I just knew. I didn't have to think about it or question my reasons. I knew I belonged here, with Andy. And that was it.”

I reached out and touched his hair, tracing the tight coil of a white curl. It looked as perfect as a marble sculpture, but was surprisingly soft to the touch. Then I pulled my hand back and scrunched my nose, realizing I was being weird yet again. “I'm sorry,” I said immediately. “Sometimes I just can't help myself.”

He just chuckled, soft and deep. “And my hair was interesting?”

I nodded. “Of course. You're like a work of art, you know. You look like a marble sculpture. I had to know what it felt like.”

Yellow eyes met mine but, oddly, there was no judgement there. “And?”

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