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“Plague seize you,” Vanore called out as she tossed a handful of powder from her pocket at the guard. The contents sparked and bounced against him, but he didn’t budge.
“Run, child!” She nudged me toward the back of the house.
I stumbled into the kitchen, gasping. “Vanore, what’s the rest of the spell?”
But she didn’t answer me and hissed at the monster, “Devil take you!”
The guardian charged and shoved a hand against Vanore’s chest. She flew across the room and slammed into the wall, her breaths gushing out with a grunt. Powerful and final. Being hit by the side of a mountain wasn’t something one got up from. Vanore slumped to the ground in a heap and didn’t move.
“Vanore!” My body wracked with shivers. I ought to have dragged her to her feet, make sure she was all right. But the gargoyle now faced me, and it made more sense to lead him away from her so he wouldn’t hurt her further.
My heart hit the back of my throat, and I whipped around, sprinting across the kitchen and ripping open the back door. Panic snaked over my skin.
Outside, the hot wind buffeted into me. Without a thought, I swung left and dashed past the house and onto the road, dread chewing on my confidence.
Told ya. Told ya. He’ll punish you.
Numbness took hold of my thoughts, and I ran, crossing the dirt road.
Pounding footfalls closed in on me, but I didn’t dare to look back.
Icy daggers stabbed my heart.
He grabbed my bag with such force, I was hurled backward, hitting the ground with my ass. He ripped the bag off my arms. My hair burst free from the bag and splayed around me, swallowing me in its golden threads.
But when the gargoyle towered over me, I cried out and dragged myself away, picturing my punishment, how I’d failed. Was Vanore dead because of me? I choked on my hitched inhale.
His wings unfurled from his back, the sound of crushing stones grating in my ears. Magic had this creature flying with stone wings when it shouldn’t be able to. They snapped out wide and lengthened to six feet on each side, blotting out the moonlight. Claw-like daggers tipped the ends of the bat-like wings.
“Please don’t do this. Stop!” I backpedaled farther.
He stormed after me, his clawed hands seizing my ankles, his nails piercing into my skin.
I yelled out in agony, grabbing the dagger from my belt, and stabbing it into a crevice between two stones in the center of his chest. The knife met resistance, and I shoved it in there with two hands, hearing a satisfying squish as the blade sank deep enough to make the gargoyle hiss.
He knocked my arms aside, and the sting lanced across my hands as he plucked the weapon free before hurling it into Vanore’s yard. There wasn’t any blood, and the wound hadn’t even slowed him down.
A rush of air beat into me as we lifted off the ground, him dragging me upward, legs first.
My world swayed upside down. Dread swam in my stomach. Below, the town remained silent without a single person coming to my rescue. Would someone check on Vanore?
You’ve done it now. Yes, you’re in fucked-up shit here.
I blocked out the words as we coasted over forests and rivers and towns in Tritonia. The wind colliding into me had me swaying back and forth with each flap of the monster’s wings. Every inch of me throbbed with terror. Part of me had hoped I could cast the spell at Vanore’s house and then be free. But that was me being idiotic—to think anything could go well for a change.
Tears blurred my vision. They ran up and over my brow and into my hair. I’d spent the last eight years alone, and it was killing me every day just a little more, erasing my inner light with shadows of darkness. The rest of the world went on while I remained frozen in time, my life drifting away. I didn’t worry about where I’d end up in the afterlife, because I already lived in Hell.
Dizziness captured my head and everything faded.
Branches slapped my face, and I startled awake. I must have passed out. Now we flew over treetops and up ahead, I spotted my prison. A circular tower stood erect amid the rubble of destroyed ruins.
I writhed, needing to escape. I didn’t want to go back there. The structure with a wide-brimmed flat roof soared over most of trees circling the open land. Moonlight lit the moss clinging to the sides of the stone walls. Woodland surrounded the open area like a great army watching my demise.
I wriggled in his grip for escape. We sailed toward the oversized window. The only way in and out of the tower. He tossed me indoors as if I were a twig in his way.
I slammed into a wall and crumpled to the ground, groaning from the sharpness zapping over my spine.
A shadow fell over the window. The gargoyle hovered there, not a sound, as if proud of his catch.
But the moment his wings snapped flat against his sides and he hopped inside, I screamed. “Please no! I promise not to leave again.”
In his hand he carried a branch, and when he whipped it across my legs, I bellowed from the acidic sting. He never used his hands because stone would kill me, but breaking me was allowed. Permitted. Endlessly encouraged.
He snatched my leg and hurled me to the other side of the room. I crashed into my table and fell down, the table’s legs snapping under my weight. I sobbed. The pain was a spider web, spreading over me, intricately but viciously.
When the branch connected with my back, I yelled and arched. I couldn’t think beyond the agonizing strikes ripping me to shreds.
