Page 6 of The Gargoyle's Glade
“Do you hear that?” I asked Hailon, a tremor in my voice.
“Hear what?” she frowned at me.
Ophelia, on the other hand, exclaimed happily. The bird startled at the sudden rough noise, wings out and clawed feet tapping on the wooden window sill. “Sorry, sorry.” She patted the bird on the head in apology, then turned back to me, a pleased look on her face. “That explains quite a lot, actually.”
“You can hear it?” I forced the words from my throat, muscles aching from how tightly strung they’d become.
She nodded, fingers gently petting the feathers between the bird’s eyes. “Easy now. Gentle.” The golden orbs closed, shielded by the bird’s inner lids, and I could move again. “You and Calla should have a talk. Have you met her cat?”
“Cat?”
“Or the birds? There are several familiars at d’Arcan now. They all live there quite harmoniously.”
“Familiars?” I knew I sounded foolish, but the single words were all I could manage as I tried to sort out what was happening.
“Whose is that?” Hailon asked, amused by the petite bird.
It turned its head in that decidedly unsettling way owls had, and looked directly at Ophelia.
“Oh, I see. Well. I’ll send a message to the demon in charge of things then, if requests are getting backed up that badly. I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.”
I had learned plenty since my arrival, but I found myself as lost as I’d felt the first day when Hailon had informed me that her charming man was a demon and her in-laws as well. Their friends were stone kin—gargoyles—and she was a null, someone who could cancel out magic. It boggled my mind, but honestly it also made a certain kind of sense. I’d yet to figure out why any of that actually mattered, however. They were all lovely, kind people, and she was the same woman I knew from back home.
“Can someone please explain why I can hear the bird speaking to me in my head? And why it felt like I was paralyzed when it looked at me?”
Ophelia patted the bird again, and it flew off. She closed the window and refilled her cup of whiskey tea before taking a seat.
“First things first. What did our charming little friend say to you?” she asked me, reaching for two thick slices of bread and the pot of honey. She handed me one, keeping the other for herself. “Eat that, the sugar will help.”
I did as she instructed, having to chase the thick honey with my tea. If nothing else, at least the whiskey loosened my throat again. “I think it asked for help? Something about a bond?” I finally managed.
Ophelia chuckled as she chewed, head bobbing enthusiastically. “Yes, yes. Well, isn’t that wonderful! Now they’ll have someone other than me to go to. The immobilization should get better with some practice. Seems he was rather eager to get his message across and perhaps was a bit heavy-handed to be sure he could communicate with you. We can probably find you a trinket or stone to help with that.”
My mind spun, none of the thoughts coming through in a comprehensive way. “I don’t understand.”
“Familiars, like that little owl, speak mainly to their bonded. They tend to keep it within the family, in a way—mages, witches, fae, and the like. But there are outliers like myself who can communicate with all of them as a kind of…” She waved her hand, searching for the right word. “Intermediary. A conduit. Seems you’re like me in that way.”
“How? Why?”
“That’s the mystery, now isn’t it?” She smiled. “It used to be that the crossroads demon managed all the paperwork and there was a stone kin or witch assigned as Keeper to manage all the creatures topside. They’d offer blessings, hear grievances. Negotiate population sizes and needs for their area, things like that. The animals all had an emissary of sorts too, so they could check in periodically, offer their support to the Keeper if needed. It was a very symbiotic relationship and ensured the health of nature as a whole.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “But there hasn’t been a Keeper in ages, not since… Well, I’m not even sure, it’s been so long.” Ophelia pulled at a chin whisker while she pondered, eyes squinted as she sifted through her memories. “No matter. The absence of a Keeper is likely why the ability to hear them has started cropping up more in individuals like yourself. Spread out the duty, help the balance.”
Ophelia tilted her head, eyes narrowed. “Come sit.” She patted the cushion to her right and set her cup on the low table in front of her. “As far as I can tell, you’re not stone kin. But that doesn’t mean you’re strictly human either.”
I did as she asked, and the old woman took my face in her warm hands once I was seated, intelligent eyes searching mine. After a thorough inspection, she took my hands in hers, tracing the lines in my palms and the blue veins in my wrists. Thoughtful noises rolled from her throat. She paused, examining my bracelet. Her finger turned the small stone woveninto the center around. “Red jasper? That’s an interesting choice.”
“My father hunted stones. It was one of his favorite hobbies. He brought several of these home one season when he was helping dig new wells. He said the color reminded him of me.” I touched my hair.
“Yes, yes. I can understand that. Is this your work?”
“No, I’ve no talent for this kind of thing. The bracelet has been in my family for ages. There are strands of hair in the braid of the band from everyone who’s worn it since my many-times great-grandmother on my father’s side. My mother added the stone and it became mine after…” I swallowed, the old pain somehow still had a sting in it. “After he left.” He’d gone on a trip to hunt for precious stones, perhaps gold. There’d been a disastrous collapse in the old mine he was thought to be in. Nothing had ever been the same again.
Ophelia patted my hand sympathetically and moved on with her inspection, still humming.
“Merry’s family has been in Ravenglen for at least five generations,” Hailon said helpfully. “I know that guarantees nothing, but the odds of her being human are fairly high.”
Ophelia looked away from me to Hailon for a brief second, amusement putting a twinkle in her eye. “Says the girl with a mix of all six factions in her blood who knew very little about herself until not all that long ago.”
Hailon was chagrined, but she smiled. “Well, that’sme, not her.”
