Page 44 of Bite of the Gargoyle

“Thank you.”

To be honest, I’m a little nervous of the lank, sullen beasts that slink out from between the trees towards me to do their master’s bidding, but I don’t want to get lost in this wood—I have something important to do.

The wolves are very well-behaved as they guide me through the twisted trunks until they both come to a stop, flanking the path like ornamental statues on the gate posts of a manor house.

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a little silly for doing so, but not wanting to seem ungrateful either.

The dogs don’t reply (which is actually a relief) but remain sitting, still as statues. I walk on, finding myself in the more familiar woodland surrounding the D’Orsay estate, the woods that Derith and I patrolled just the night before. It’s late afternoon now and night will be here soon.

Perhaps the sensible thing to do would be to go straight to the castle, find where Derith sleeps, and kill him when he’s at his most vulnerable. But that… it isn’t enough. It isn’t what I want or what I need. That might be some sort of revenge, but it isn’tvengeance. My family didn’t get to die in their sleep and neither will the man who killed them. I want to face him, to look him in the eye. I want him to knowwhythis is happening.

That’s important. This isn’t just me killing a monster; this is justice.

But it won’t be easy. In the shade of a tree, I make myself comfortable and intend to get a few hours of sleep before nightfall. I need to be well-rested if I’m going to confront Derith, who is unbelievably strong and powerful. I’ve long since trained myself to manage on the minimum of sleep and to be able to sleep at a moment’s notice.

A few hours on the ground will be fine.

Chapter Fourteen

When I wake, night has fallen.

I’m a bit disappointed. As I slept, I didn’t dream, or if I did, those dreams didn’t stay with me. Privately, I hoped Suisse would visit me again and clarify some of the things I’m still uncertain about. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the only person I can trust because she is, at some basic level, me. And for the better part of my life,Ihave been the only person I can trust.

But no dreams came.

I sit up and spend a moment in quiet examination of what I’m feeling.

Much remains unclear but the need for vengeance still burns hotly within me and that need is targeted at one man. If I’m sure of nothing else, I’m certain that I need to find Derith and make him pay for what he did to my family. Perhaps it’s odd that I feel certain of that need to confront and kill him when I still can’t be certain of justwhokilled my family, but this feels like one of those feelings you just don’t question. It exists as a deeply rooted knowledge within me. A truth I can’t argue.

Maybe I don’t need Suisse because I know what I must do.

The woods seem empty as I pass through them, the cool night doing nothing to quench the heat within me. Or perhaps I’m just too focused on my task to notice anything else. It seems to me that there’s no birdsong, no animals moving about, no passers-by, not even the sound of wind rustling the leaves. All there is, is the path ahead, and at its end, that I now see before me; Baravia castle, the ancestral seat of the D’Orsay’s.

That’s where I’ll find him.

My pace quickens.

The doors stand open as I approach and I wonder if I will find Derith in residence or if he’s gone out for the night—perhaps looking for me. Quests for vengeance aren’t supposed to end with the aggrieved party taking a seat by the fire and waiting, but life can’t always work like a fairy story.

“You’re returned!” Kellen sees me as I pass through the gate. “She’s back! She’s here! She’s safe! Tell the master!”

He seems happy to see me. I wonder what his master will think.

My hand is itching to draw the sword Balor gifted me before leaving, but I don’t want to spook Derith too soon. I want us in a room together, then I will confront him with what I’ve learned, then I will see the look on his face when he realizes I know the truth, and then I will draw my sword.

Though I can hear shouting from various rooms as the word of my return passes around the servants, I keep on my path, heading for the main hall.

Pushing through the door, I find the candles lit around the walls and on the chandelier that hangs heavily from the raftered ceiling. A big fire blazes in the stone fireplace and standing beside it is Kellen, talking excitedly to his master.

Derith.

Even I’m surprised by the strength of my feelings as I see him, by the barbed shaft of hatred that lances straight through me. Everything about him disgusts me and what might disgust me the most is that I fell for his story. In some part, I suppose I fell for him. At that, the disgust is more aimed at myself than at him.

Yet a part of me seems to push back against this feeling. Last time I saw him, my feelings were very different. Confused but different. Then there had been something about Derith that had made me feel…

I shake my head clear and focus on the hatred. That is what matters, that’s what I have to cling to because that is thetruth. Derith killed my family, and there’s nothing else. That’s all that matters.

“Jo!” Derith’s face lights up at the sight of me—keeping my wandering feelings in check is proving harder than I’d hoped. He has quite a smile. “Where’ve you been? We were all so worried. I thought Balor had taken you.”

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