Page 39 of The Gargoyle's Glade
It occurred to me then that Grace was similar in many ways to Merry, and my father might have some insight he could share with me. He’d been blessed with her as a second mate many long years after my mother had died in battle and returned to the stones. I hadn’t spent much time with Grace, being as I existed mainly here in the glade, but I liked her well enough. She ran the inner workings of d’Arcan with a firm hand and was good for him. They were well matched.
I must have hesitated too long, because he asked, “Is there something else?” My mouth opened, but my scrambled thoughts were slow to formulate into words. “Mmm, I see.” My father sighed, clapped me on the shoulder, leaving his hand there. “Indigestion?”
Confused, I frowned and stared at him. “Sorry?”
“Do you find yourself with unexplained indigestion? A burn, just here.” He put a fist to his chest.
I sighed and then gave in to the laughter that bubbled up. The sound of it carried an edge of madness. “Yes, actually. My mate bond has been very troublesome since it activated.”
It was his turn to be stunned, and he blinked at me several times before laughing so hard he scattered a bunch of animals and had to wipe tears from the comers of his eyes. “Well good. I’m glad you’re a quicker study than I was, at least. Poor Rylan was in such denial he had to do a spell before he believed it.”
I huffed a breath, simultaneously relieved and terrified at having admitted it out loud to someone else. “She’s human. Gifted. Special.”
“And?”
“I’m … we are not the same.”
“Perhaps, but I’d wager you’re also not that different. Or, if you are, there is good balance there. Have some faith in the Fates, my son. They rarely make mistakes.”
“Not never?”
He shook his head, ancient wisdom and sadness in his eyes. “Nothing is infallible, Coltor. You know that as well as I do.”
I rolled my shoulders, trying to chase some of the tension away. “We hardly know one another.”
He shrugged. “So, get familiar. It’s not as hard as you’re making it.”
“She’s…” I trailed off, unable to get the words out, but my glance at the door betrayed me.
His large hand patted my shoulder again. “She’ll be alright. Nobody in this family knows how to fail when it comes to taking care of our own.”
I nodded, and after another moment of staring directly into my soul, he departed, leaving me an exhausted mess on my own porch.
The next coupleof days brought a constant stream of company. It should have made me uncomfortable, but it was strangely nice to not be the only one in charge of thinking through logistics.
Platters and baskets arrived courtesy of Grace, holding meals and snacks enough to tide the entire population of the glade over for several days. It took all three of our kitchens to store it all, and there was never a time when I felt even slightly more than peckish before I had tea and something to eat in my hand.
After some deliberation with Hailon, I’d taken Merry back to her own cabin. There was more space, and it was closer both to the portal and their cabin. Besides that, it was easier for Hailon to help her friend with things like bathing in the larger bathroom. We were feeding her broth, spoonfuls at a time, while helping her swallow. It gave us both a purpose, doing those things that were still necessary, despite how fully her body seemed to have shut down.
Progress was infinitesimal, but she did start opening her eyes a little bit more starting on the second day. I could tell by her breathing when she was asleep and when she was awake, but other than that, there was no indication of change. I took her outside, so she could see that her plants were cared for. Hailon or I did the watering, but it seemed the animals had taken the job of weeding and insect control on themselves. I narrated my every action when I was the one with her, speaking more during those hours than I had in several years combined. I wanted nothing more than for her to say something back.
The third day, Greta visited with her raven, Belmont. He and the birds hanging about on Merry’s roof had quite a rousingconversation, and then he perched on the porch railing like a king addressing his subjects.
Greta, who was organizing several vials of elixir on Merry’s kitchen table, looked at him curiously. The door was open, and the chatter of the animals camped in her yard was a steady background noise. The pile of gifts had migrated to her porch, an ever-growing mound of berries, flowers, stones and a multitude of shiny objects. I appreciated the gesture but still wanted them all gone.
“Belmont?” she inquired, seeing him open his wings wide and stalk from one side to the other as he made that peculiar corvid knocking sound. Greta stilled, eyes a bit glassy as she communicated with her bird. “Oh,” she breathed finally, and one of the falcons swooped down and dropped something on the steps. She picked up the item, holding it up for me to see.
The band was broken, one whole strand of the braid undone, but I recognized it immediately. “Merry’s bracelet? Where did they find that?”
“Was it missing?” she asked.
“Yes. I don’t know how long, but I noticed it was gone after she collapsed.”
“It’s leaking magic,” she said frowning. “I don’t know how else to describe it. Not necessarily anything bad, it feels protective in a way, but it’s… odd. May I have Rylan examine it?”
“Of course.” Greta grimaced and pocketed the jewelry while Belmont did another display. The animals quieted, several small groups wandering further away. “Is something happening?”
“I don’t understand completely, but they’re telling Belmont that Merry is… keeping something? There’s something about a celebration. No, a ceremony.”
