His tone sparked anger despite my gripping fear. “Yours?” I spat. “You have a garden that could help people. And you keep it locked away to rot and die while people suffer, children burn with fever?—”
“Don’t.” The word cracked like a whip. “Don’t you tell me about suffering.” He seethed.
I flinched but forced myself not to cower. “I brewed an elixir for my brother.”
“I don’t care what you were making. You’re trespassers. Thieves.” He straightened to his full height, towering over us, and slashed his arm to the side. “And now you’re prisoners. All of you.”
“Hadrien,” Victor implored.
“But they didn’t know—” Genevieve tried.
“It doesn’t matter.” His voice carried such authority that both stopped speaking.
Mom’s hand found mine and squeezed. “Please. Just let us rest for the night. My son is doing much better and we just need to get him to a healer in?—”
“No. You stay. All of you!”
“Why?” I demanded.
The gargoyle’s jawline hardened. “You crossed my wards. You’ve seen my castle, my gardens. If the queen finds out…”
“She won’t!” I protested. “I’d never tell her a thing.”
He leaned closer, and I could see every scar, every curve of muscle ripping through his torso.
“Word will spread that the wards are failing. And then she’ll come with her soldiers to take what’s not hers.” His eyes burned into mine. “I won’t allow that. I’d turn to dust before that happens.”
“We won’t tell a soul,” Mom said. “You have my word?—”
“Your word means nothing.” He turned and faced her. “You’ll stay here. All of you. Until I decide what to do with you.”
“No.” The word came out before I could stop it. I stepped forward, putting myself in front of my mother. “Let them go,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady despite my trembling hands. “I’ll stay. You have to let my mother take my brother to the healer.”
Mom gasped. “Lilia, what are you doing?”
“We have to, Mom. For Henri.” I turned back to the gargoyle.
His lips curved up into a fierce smile. “Why would you think I’d let you make demands, Little One?”
“Because—” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to come up with something. “Because maybe I can help you with…whatever you need.”
“There’s no helping me.” Bitterness leaked through his words.
“Anything,” I pleaded. “I can help with the garden, the castle,” I stammered. “With whatever’s making your wards fail.”
His eyes flickered with something. Was it interest? “How? Are you gifted with magic?”
Not the kind he’d demanded if I’d used to pass the wards, but I was skilled in green magic. “I work with plants. And you have some rare, magical ones in the garden. With my books and those plants, maybe I can do something. Give me a chance…”
He assessed me for several pounding heartbeats, and I was sure everyone could hear them echo off the stone castle walls. “You have some kind of magic,” he affirmed.
“How do you know that?”
“I can sense it.” He straightened. “Fine. Twenty-one days. That’s the time you have to reinforce the wards.”
I swallowed. One epic problem was that I had no idea how I was going to tackle this problem. How would a green witch reinforce wards that extended beyond a massive castle? And what would happen if I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain after twenty-one days?
The gargoyle turned to my mother. “You can go with your son to the healer, but if I hearoneword, senseonewhiff of your betrayal…”
