I nod. “I was a blacksmith and owned an armory—the Blackmoor man with the most military experience, as limited as it was. I led the human resistance, with Jude, Augustine, and Rook—my most trusted friends—serving as my commanders. Together with the surrounding towns and villages, we cobbled together an army of human soldiers willing to fight.”
“A war. An actual war between the dark fae and humans—yourhumans. Draegan, that’s… I can’t believe it.”
“The story of the war itself is a long and bloody tale, but after four brutal years, we finally achieved victory. The Wintermoon king very well could have beaten us, but he hadn’t expected to encounter such a steadfast resistance at all, and eventually he grew tired of sacrificing fae soldiers for what amounted to little more than a game to him. He called back his armies and ceded control of our lands. In exchange, we would allow the fae to come and go as they had for millennia, without interference or harassment from us. We thought that was the end of it and agreed to the terms, but dark fae being who they are…”
“There was a loophole,” she whispers. “A trick.”
“We could keep the land, Verrick informed us. But unless we accepted the rest of his terms, he would burn the crops and homes and slaughter the animals, effectively starving us out.”
“What did he want?”
I close my eyes, a familiar black cloud churning inside me. “The men who led the humans to victory against his armies. Jude, Rook, Augustine, and me… We offered ourselves up as sacrifices, thinking that would be enough. The commanders. The leader. But he wanted more. More.More, until all the men who took up arms against the fae for miles around were finally in his custody. Not as prisoners to be executed, no. That would’ve been too kind a punishment. He had a different sentence in mind for us.”
Silence falls between us again, the fluttering candles casting dark shadows on the walls. She knows now where this part of the story is heading. Sees its crushing, inevitable end on the near horizon.
“As leaders of the resistance who so steadfastly guarded human lands,” I continue, “King Verrick thought it fitting that we become the immortal guardians of Wintermoon, guarding its most powerful portals to the human realm for all eternity.”
“Gargoyles,” she breathes.
“With a combination of demonic magic and their own, they crafted a spell that created the very first ones. Immortal monsters that would appear to others as fae, but were actually ferocious winged beasts who could turn to stone at will,forcedinto stone by daybreak. They positioned gargoyles throughout the world, assigned to all the places Wintermoon armies wanted to invade.”
“But I thought he ceded human lands to the humans?”
“No. Only the lands of Britain—another loophole. The rest of the human world was fair game, as far as he was concerned. And now, thanks to his personal force of immortal guardians, he could ensure the dark fae could come and go as they pleased. Any humans who disturbed them—who so much as looked too closely at them—were simply…”Murdered. I can’t bring myself to say the word out loud. Can’t bring myself to recount the number of humans I killed at Verrick’s behest.
“But, over time,” I continue, “as the human population grew and began encroaching on the natural world, it became harder for the fae to travel to this realm. They require nature—it’s a deeply inherent part of their life force, their magic. The portals began failing. In his rage, Verrick blamed his guardians for the failures. For any portal he could no longer safely access, he turned its gargoyle keeper into permanent stone.”
“Goddess,” she whispers. “Do they die?”
“Death would be better. It merely traps the once-human soul for eternity.”
“What happens if the stone gargoyle itself is destroyed? Does that free its soul?”
I shake my head, the reminder of that cruel fate twisting me up inside. “Unless we can break the curse, a stone gargoyle destroyed means his soul is simply cursed to wander the realms, never finding peace, never able to speak with or touch another. Just… existing.”
She reaches for my hand again, lacing our fingers together and holding tight.
“Our numbers dwindled overseas,” I say. “With more and more portals failing as cities continued to expand all over Europe and Asia, Verrick grew restless. Concerned about his options in a realm that seemed intent on building, he relocated the remaining gargoyles to the Americas. But of course, the same thing was happening here. Colonization, expansion, wholesale slaughter of life, destruction of natural resources. Eventually, he decided to cut his losses and concentrate on a single geographic region, placing the four so-called war heroes in charge.”
“New York,” she says.
“Yes. Though it wasn’t the New York you know now. The region was vast and beautiful, with rivers and mountains, forests… Verrick truly thought he’d found his next paradise. The four of us were tasked with guarding the guardians, so to speak. Well, you know what New York eventually became. All that concrete and steel and glass… It’s nearly impossible for pureblooded dark fae to travel here now, let alone exist here for any length of time. So Verrick once again began turning his guardians to stone until eventually there were none left but us. We kept waiting for that fateful night when he’d turn his ire on the men who led armies against him, but it never came. We finally realized he’d intended it that way.Thiswas our eternal punishment. Existing in a world where everyone we knew, everyone who fought for us and bled by our side on the battlefields of home, was nothing but a stone statue, magically bound to a portal that would exist for eternity, whether or not it would ever be accessed.”
“But… how many portals are there?”
“I don’t know exactly—many have been abandoned. But every gargoyle in this city guards a fae portal.”
“How can they still guard the portals if they’re cursed as permanent stone?”
“It’s all part of the dark fae magic. Our souls serve as… well, the best way to think of it is like a power source. So the stone gargoyles… They’re essentially keeping the lights on for the day Verrick decides to make his move.”
“I thought he couldn’t exist here long-term?”
“Not now, he can’t. But one day—perhaps when humans are extinct and the land reclaims itself from the concrete—Verrick will get his opportunity. Fae are immortal, love. Tens of thousands of years is naught but a blink.”
She’s quiet again, processing everything I’ve told her.
Then, “You guys were from the same village,” she says. “Why do you have such different accents?”
