Chapter 5
LILIA
The sound outside captured my attention. It sounded like—claws scraping on stone.
No, I had to be imagining it.
But when I looked out the window of the great hall into the courtyard, a massive shadow swooped down and landed with a thud. Mom and I shrieked.
Then I fell silent, gaping as I stared at the being in the darkness as my vision adjusted. It rose to its full height.
He was massive—larger than any human, with a broad chest carved with muscle.
Enormous wings arched behind him, with a span so wide they reached toward the stone walls of the courtyard.
My heart rammed against my chest as I stared in shock.
His wings folded inward, retracting until they disappeared behind his back.
Two dark horns curved up from the top of his head, and dark, wavy hair reached just beyond his chin.
His face had sharp angles with high cheekbones and a jaw that could have been carved from stone.
His features twisted in fury, and his eyes held me paralyzed.
Silver-gray and burning with an anger so cold it stole the breath from my lungs.
A gargoyle. Not a statue but a living warrior.
And he looked ready to annihilate us.
He threw open the door from the courtyard and stepped inside, the massive muscles in his legs visible beneath the hem of his dark shorts.
Barefoot, his feet ended in gray claws. The light caught his gray skin with darker, marble-like threads and pale white scars that crisscrossed his chest and arms.
“Hadrien.” Victor’s voice came from behind me. “They meant no harm—”
“No harm?” The gargoyle’s voice was as rough as gravel grinding on stone. “I let them stay last night.” He pointed a thick, gray finger at me. “But this one. She stole from my garden.”
“For his fever,” Genevieve explained. “The boy needed those herbs.”
“I don’t care.” He moved toward me, like a predator stalking prey. He fixed a piercing gaze on me. “My wards should have prevented you from entering.” He seethed. “How did you pass?” he demanded with a low growl.
I gasped and stepped backward. “I don’t know.”
“Tell me,” he bellowed.
“I just…walked here.”
Mom stepped forward, positioning herself between him and me. “We didn’t mean to intrude. My son is sick. I needed help. I saw the castle…”
He flicked his steely gaze to her. “Did you use magic to help you pass?”
Mom and I exchanged a confused look. “No,” we both stammered.
He turned back to me with an accusatory glare. “You stole from my garden.”
“Stole?” I repeated through the shock.
“I let her go out there,” Victor defended me.
“Enough!” He raised a huge hand to silence Victor yet kept his intense fury fixed on me. “Valgarde is mine.” He sneered. “I poured magic into the grounds. You had no right to steal what’s mine.”
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 hear one word, sense one whiff of your betrayal…”
“You won’t,” Mom swore.
“I wasn’t finished,” he said in a tone that snapped her mouth shut. “If you betray me”—he pointed at her and dragged his finger to aim at me—“she pays.” He cocked his head slowly. “Understand?”
“I’d never risk my children. Never!” Mom turned to me, her eyes shining. “Lilia, I can’t leave you here.”
“You have to.” I nudged her and gave her a smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine here. Look at all these plants to keep me busy.” I gestured with my arm.
She searched my gaze for a few seconds before turning back to the gargoyle. “I-I understand,” she stammered.
“Good. We have an agreement.” Then he turned and marched back out into the courtyard. His massive wings emerged, spreading out behind him. And then they swooshed through the air and ascended out of view.
I gaped into the darkness, my skin clammy and my breath coming hard.
What had I just agreed to? I’d bound myself here with a gargoyle to accomplish a mission, which I didn’t know was even possible.
The weight of the bargain pressed down on me as unyielding as the imposing stone walls of this castle.