Page 17 of Dragon in Denial
“No,” Ketu said. “We are leaving. We just needed to land safely. We’ll make our way back to town now.”
The gargoyle canted his head and studied Ketu. “It is late. And we are far from any other civilization, dragon or otherwise. Flying is your most logical means of returning.”
Ketu shook his head. “Our enemies are no doubt up there, searching for us.” He pointed through the branches at the night sky.
“You will be walking all night, and this one looks tired.” The gargoyle nodded at Antoinette.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, straightening her slouching shoulders. If Ketu could hang, so could she.
“You have another suggestion?” Ketu asked the gargoyle.
“Fly away home.” He flapped his arms.
Ketu made a noise of impatience. “That’s not an option.” He glanced at the dark shack, barely discernable against the unlit landscape. “Is your mistress home?”
“No. She is away, visiting family. I await her return but do not expect it for another day or two.” He sounded wistful. Like maybe their relationship was more than protector and mistress. Or at least he wanted it to be.
Ketu glanced at Antoinette then stepped up to the gargoyle, maintaining eye contact for several seconds before inclining his head. “I am Argyle’s friend.”
“Argyle? One of the protectors of the City of the Dead? Why did you not say so? Come, come inside. My mistress will not mind that you’ve stopped to refresh yourselves before returning on the morrow.” The stone-like man cracked a smile as he headed down the dock toward the shack, waving at them to follow him.
“Who’s Argyle?” Antoinette asked.
Before Ketu could respond, the gargoyle asked, “How is Argyle? When did you see him last? My name is Pongo, by the way.”
“Ketu. And this is Antoinette. I saw Argyle yesterday. He is doing well, now that he is back to protecting his City of the Dead.”
Pongo nodded and held the door open to allow them inside first. “I am glad to hear he is no longer obligated to protect that half-witch. Her spirit was not good; I never understood that relationship. Gargoyles protect only those who deserve protection.”
“It’s a long story,” Ketu said. “But basically, the witch you refer to had cast a curse, tying another, good witch, to herself. That was how she was able to force the gargoyles to protect her.”
How the hell did Ketu know so much about witches and gargoyles? Were things that different in Detroit?
Antoinette allowed herself to be distracted from her unanswered questions by glancing around the interior of the shack, which was as small as it looked from the outside. The single room consisted of a tiny kitchen on one end and a bedroom on the other. There were two doors on the far wall, one of which Antoinette presumed—hoped—led to a bathroom.
The only pieces of furniture, other than kitchen appliances, were a rickety, old, wooden table and two chairs, a dresser with flaking, faded paint, and a lumpy-looking bed covered haphazardly by a frayed, patchwork quilt. Pongo indicated the two ladder-back chairs.
“Sit. Would you care for something to drink?” He opened the fridge and the sudden appearance of bright light caused Antoinette to shield her eyes with her hand.
But at least that meant the place had electricity.
And hopefully a bathroom.
Or better yet, a car they could borrow to get them back to town. Because it suddenly occurred to her what Pongo said earlier. “You expect us to spend the night here?” she blurted.
Pongo nodded. “My mistress will not mind. And you need to rest before you are able to go on. My mistress took her motor vehicle with her; however, tomorrow I will take you in the pirogue to the nearest town, where you can secure transportation back to where you came from.”
“Henri. I have to get home to him.”
Ketu pulled his phone out of his pocket. “The signal’s weak, but I should be able to text my mother, let her know we’re okay and that we’ll be home tomorrow.”
“But…”
His phone vibrated and he glanced down at it. “She says as long as we’re together, she knows we’re safe, and she’ll give Henri a kiss goodnight for us.”
Us?
Antoinette surveyed the room again. The bed couldn’t be more than full sized. It would be a squeeze with two of them, let alone three, sharing these sleeping quarters.
