Page 32 of The Gargoyle's Captive

He tries to speak, but I don’t release him. Finally, Bram nods slowly. I’m nearly certain that he’s only agreeing to appease me, but I don’t care. His energy is a swirly mass of colors that makes me dizzy to look at. I’ve never felt more like a monster than I do right now. I release him and push his face away. It’s awkward climbing down from the table, but it’s a small price to pay for escaping this room and situation.

I lit him on fire.

Of all the unhinged, unacceptable courses of action, that has to top the list. That’s something my grandfather would’ve done. It’s not something you do to someone you care about.

The realization that I care about him is almost enough to give me pause, but my need to escape is stronger. I don’t run for the door, but I move with urgency. I almost make it, too.

“Grace.” Bram doesn’t lift his voice, but it feels like he reaches across the room and hooks me in the chest. I stop. Even as I tell myself not to, I turn to face him once more. He’s exactly where I left him. The only change is that his wings now droop on the ground, mirroring the defeated slope of his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I took it too far.”

“We both did.” I flee from the room.

* * *

I spendthe next week avoiding Bram and every other gargoyle who tries to cross my path. This happens with increasing frequency as I keep myself busy exploring the castle. I don’t see Luna again, but the other nobles have obviously taken a page from their book and want to approach me too. I have no interest in that bullshit.

The fact that I can see auras helps. All I need is a glimpse of color to know I need to change my route. Day after day passes, and Bram doesn’t seek me out. I’m pretty sure he’s following me, shadowing my path through the winding halls and spiraling staircases, but he’s a much subtler hunter than his people are. The only indication I have that he’s there at all is a hot feeling at the back of my neck.

I don’t know if he’s being a coward or if I am. Probably both. I scared myself that night in the dining room. Worst of all, I’m pretty sure he only apologized because I was upset, not because he felt like things were out of control. Bram has no brakes. And I don’t when I’m with him either. It’s a recipe for disaster.

The clearest answer is the one I refuse to accept. I should leave. I haven’t seen Ramanu since that first visit, but I’ve taken to carrying around the ring they gave me in my pocket. All I have to do is speak their name to summon them, and they will whisk me away to bargainer territory once more. The thought should fill me with relief, but instead it makes me want to dig in my heels all the more.

I find the massive cave on the seventh day. It’s so wide that I can’t see the far walls as I carefully descend the staircase. Down and down and down, so deep that I’m surprised I can’t feel the pressure against my skin. Gargoyles might be people of the sky, but there’s plenty of space to fly here in this room. Once I reach the bottom, I am surprised to find buildings carved into the stone. It’s an... underground city?

I only explore a little bit before caution gets the best of me and I ascend once more to return to my room. But curiosity is a powerful thing, and the next day I’m back in the depths, exploring the streets between the strange stone buildings. There’s no sign of life, no food or perishables. But there is furniture, and I notice a distinct lack of dust in the few places I dare explore.

Whatisthis place?

On the third day of exploring it, I enter far enough into the city—because itisa city—to find the underground river. Curiosity causes me to dip my fingers into the icy water and press them to my lips. The water’s fresh. Possibly even drinkable.

“Back away from the water, Grace.”

I startle so badly, I almost fall into the river. I didn’t hear Bram approaching. I didn’t even feel his attention on me this time either. Apparently I don’t move fast enough, because he lands next to me and hauls me back ten feet. He releases me just as quickly as he grabbed me, doing a strange hop that, accompanied by the flap of his wings, sends him farther away. “I’m sorry. But it’s not safe. That river goes all the way to the sea, and the kraken people can reach this place using it.”

“I thought you weren’t at war.” It’s such a silly thing to say. Only my shock excuses the ridiculousness of it.

“Just because we’re not at war doesn’t mean you’re not in danger. Plenty of accidents happen during peacetime.” He looks around us. “Why do you keep coming back here?”

That’s the question, isn’t it? There are other things I should be doing. If I really mean to escape... But I can’t lie to myself and say that’s the goal anymore. If it were, I would have made it work by now. I don’t even have to go through the dramatics of escaping when all I have to do is summon Ramanu. If I haven’t done that by now, I’m not going to.

The realization washes over me, bringing something almost like relief. I don’t want to leave. Bram and I’ve been absolute disasters for each other, but I’m drawn to him like I’ve never been drawn to another person before. He might not know my full history, or be able to map every scar, but he sees my fault lines clearly enough. Anyone else would look away, wouldturnaway.

Not Bram.

He was right before. In some ways, looking at him is like looking into a fractured mirror. I don’t know what it says about me that I want to touch him so much, I’m willing to cut myself on the mirrored pieces.

“I think the more important question is: Why are you following me?”

19

BRAM

Itold myself I was protecting Grace by following her. The truth is that I can’t stand the thought of having more distance between us than necessary. It seems like I haven’t done anything except fuck up since meeting her, but she hasn’t taken her readily available exit route. Azazel would remove her from my presence without a second thought if she asked. She hasn’t asked. I want to believe that means something. I’m terrified that it doesn’t.

I owe her honesty. Truth be told, I owe her a whole lot more than that. “You were right before. I wanted to provoke a response out of you, and I didn’t care if you were hurt by it. I didn’t care if I was hurt by it, either.”

“I know.”

The tailor I finally convinced to come to the castle has done good work with Grace’s clothing. She wears fitted pants, sturdy boots, and a thick tunic that seems to be keeping away the cold of this cave.

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