Page 10 of The Gargoyle's Gift
“I’m going to stop coming by the forge if you keep doing things like this.”
“Promise?” Her smile was full of mischief. “Take it. It’s yours.”
I sighed and tilted my head but put my hand out to accept the lovely yellow citrine-inlaid handle. “Why have you made meanotherdagger? One with fancy yellow stone in the grip?”
She shrugged, a pleased expression on her face. “Because someone brought me the citrine. And when I finished making it, I realized it was for you.”
“But why? I spend most of my days in an infirmary. I have other, much more specific tools at my disposal should I need to cut someone open. I need some of my scalpels sharpened, by the way.”
“Bring them by tomorrow then. And perhaps you need it simply because youhaven’tbeen in the infirmary much lately.” She gave me a long side-eye over her shoulder as she cleaned up her tools.
“How would you know? Are you checking up on me?” I argued as I selected a black leather thigh sheath from her collection on the wall. “Who’s doing all this leatherwork for you? These are nicer than the ones you normally have.”
“Brom is the new leathersmith’s apprentice. I told him I’d use his best work here if he needed the practice. Don’t change the subject.” She laughed low in her throat and shook her head some more as she helped me size it around my leg over the top of my pants and position the dagger in it.
Was it really that obvious? My face grew hot. Were people already gossiping about it, and I just hadn’t noticed? I struggled to keep things from my sister, though regrettably she didn’t seem to have the same issue. Just worrying that she knew something about my recent activities had me sweating.
I hustled after Imogen as her long legs carried her away from the forge and toward the meetinghouse. Father was supposed to be coming, perhaps Grace as well if he’d been able to convince her to leave d’Arcan for the evening.
“Imogen! Seriously, what is it you think I’ve been doing?”
She shrugged, unbraiding her long dark hair as she walked a sedate pace, shaking out the strands and rubbing at her scalp. “I’m sure you’ll tell me when you’re ready. But the aunts have been sure to mention how you and Gaius have each been taking your midday and evening meals to eat in private instead of eating in the meetinghouse.” Her right eyebrow raised. “And you’re both taking more than one plate at a time. Seems a little odd that you’re doing the same exact thing, don’t you think? Especially when the other is never anywhere around when it happens?”
“I—” It was impossible to refute that, because it was true. I had no desire to lie to my sister either. “Is that a crime?”
Imogen burst into a bright raspy laugh, her face turned upward to the sky. “You’re impossible. And you know exactly why you needed a different blade.”
“I’m not agreeing that I do, because the ones safely put away in my apartment are perfectly serviceable, but how didyouknow I might need a new one?” I only got a shrug in return. She was nothing if not cagey about her talent. She was the finest forge mistress around—the youngest the clan had ever seen, and the first female in more than a hundred years—but it was far more than that. She had a sense about things people might want or need, often long before they did. She told me once she could hear the metal, the stones. That they spoke to her. She compared it to music. I wasn’t going to argue; I’d seen similar things with my own gift when it came to healing. I just wanted a clearer understanding because she was my sister, and I was nosy.
As we approached the meetinghouse, I spotted our father and Grace sitting at one of the several wooden tables that stayed outdoors year-round. They’d gathered a full dinner for us already and stood when they saw us approaching.
“I’ve missed you, my lovely daughters.” He smiled broadly as he wrapped us each in a tight hug.
“It hasn’t been that long,” I teased him. “And you’re only a short flight away.”
“True enough, but I’m spending nearly all my time in Revalia, and I miss your faces when I’m gone. Though I do have good reasons to stay there instead of here.” He turned, smiling.
Grace lingered at his side, still nervous around us despite the official welcoming ceremony and vows she’d exchanged with him, it seemed. She was kin now, part of the clan, regardless of her having no stone kin blood. More than that, she was family, we just hadn’t had much time to spend together yet. I could onlyimagine how awkward she might feel walking among all stone kin as the only human, even when we were in our human forms.
“Hello, Grace! It’s lovely to see you again,” I said, reaching out to embrace her.
“Hello, Lovette,” she said, a broad smile on her face. “Imogen.” My sister hugged her as well.
“This is a nice way to eat,” I said as we all took a seat.
“Jorna seemed to take personal offense that we wanted to bring our meal out here. Something about everyone wanting to take their food away instead of eating in the meetinghouse lately?” My father looked confused and shook his head as he rearranged several things between their plates, ensuring that Grace got the nicer slices of meat and more perfectly browned potatoes. Imo and I exchanged a look, and my face grew hot when her eyebrow went up.
“Stop fussing,” Grace chided as he traded her glass with his. “You never do this nonsense at the collegium.” She slapped at his hand when he continued, which only made him grin.
“That’s becauseyoudo the cooking at d’Arcan, and I can guarantee every bite is as delicious. Most stone kin aren’t overly choosy about their food quality. And not one of them cooks like you do.” She rolled her eyes, but I could tell the compliment lightened her heart.
“Don’t let the aunts hear you talking like that,” Imogen warned. “They’ll get their feelings hurt, and in return, hurt you.”
“That’s true enough,” he grumbled, but the way he glanced around confirmed he was just as worried about their wrath as the rest of us, despite him being twice their size. I’d seen them swing a heavy iron skillet once or twice though.
Small talk over our food became a healthy dose of laughter. My father was ornery, and Grace took none of his bull. They were adorable together, and while I would always miss my mother, I was thrilled to see my father had found happiness.
“We have some news,” Father puffed, his hand clasped around Grace’s as we stacked our empty plates in the middle of the table. “We’ve officially started building our home on the property next to d’Arcan,” he enthused. Grace flushed bright red, the scars that ran down the side of her face standing out in stark relief when she did so.
