Chapter 9
LILIA
The last thing I wanted to do was deal with that imposing gargoyle, so I avoided it and went to my room before sundown, retreating there with a book. While I tried to read, my mind kept wandering. I tried not to let my imagination drive me mad with worry over Henri.
At least Genevieve and Victor were warm.
Genevieve was an amazing cook and made incredible meals over the next couple of days, which I’d only dreamed about back home with our meager means.
Victor appreciated my help in the garden, as it freed him to take on more tasks around the castle.
I did so gladly, making myself useful even if I couldn’t figure out how to fulfill the deal I’d made with the gargoyle.
I’d sensed energy along the wards, but it wasn’t enough.
I couldn’t read it enough to understand how to work with it.
Green magic dealt with living things, but what was woven here felt like some sort of ancient power well beyond my comprehension.
I might as well be attempting to mend a cloak I couldn’t see with thread I couldn’t feel.
Victor and Genevieve were nurturing and kind, but whenever I asked about Hadrien, they shut down.
“It’s not our place to reveal such things,” Genevieve said at dinner the next evening as she cut the freshly baked bread she’d made earlier that day, and the delicious scent wafted over, stirring my appetite. We sat in the dining room that night as the earlier rain had left the air cool.
I clenched the stem of my wineglass, the frustration from the last few days building. “But how can I do anything to help these wards if I don’t even understand the story behind them?”
Victor paused his raising a spoonful of the beef stew to his mouth and glanced at me from his clear blue eyes. “I told you where to get those answers. We cannot provide them for you.”
I’d tried on my own for a few days already and had nothing to show for it.
I groaned. “But will he?” I took a spoonful of the fragrant stew, and the flavors of rich, spicy sauce danced on my tongue. As delicious and hearty as this meal was, it wasn’t enough to distract me from the grumbling hulk of granite who loomed like a surly shadow over this castle.
Genevieve leaned back in the chair, wiping her hands on her apron. “Why do you say that?”
I pictured Hadrien’s cool gray eyes and how they’d fixed on me that first night. “Because he imprisoned me and my family and only let them go if I can manage some impossible task. So how can I trust that he’d cooperate with me to do anything?”
As the words left my mouth, I winced. I was the one who’d suggested that I could help with the wards, out of a desperate attempt to save my family. Now I regretted those words as I was trapped here in a castle with a monster.
No. No regrets. I’d done so for Henri. His health was worth it.
Genevieve placed her hand on mine and squeezed, her touch warm. “He isn’t as unkind as you may believe.”
I snorted. “You could’ve fooled me. What with the imprisoning and threats, he seems absolutely delightful!” I mocked.
“There are things that happened here,” Victor said quietly as he put down his spoon. The evening light slanting through the dining room window caught the gray in his hair. “Bad things. And Hadrien is responding the only way he knows how.”
“What things?” I leaned forward, my pulse jolting up as I sensed I was getting closer to an actual answer. “What happened? If I could only understand, then maybe I could do something…”
Genevieve and Victor exchanged a long look across the table, one I tried to read but failed.
Victor set down his spoon and looked at me directly. “You’re asking the right questions,” he said. “But to the wrong people. That’s all.”
She turned back to me with a small smile. “We really shouldn’t talk about this anymore.”
Shut down. Again.
I kicked my foot out in frustration beneath the long oak table.
The next afternoon brought a glimmer of hope to my fruitless time here in the castle as my mother and Henri returned. When I saw him sitting up in the cart, eyes open and not so pale, I rushed over to them.
“Henri! Mom!” My breath came quick as I met them across the grounds and hugged them like I hadn’t seen them in years rather than days.
Mom gripped me tightly. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No, no,” I brushed off her concern. “Henri. What happened?” I grinned at him. “You look so much better!”
“I feel better,” he replied.
“Elisabeth, the healer, was able to help him,” Mom said with bright eyes. “The fever is gone.”
“Oh, thank god,” I muttered, placing my hand on my chest.
Once Genevieve learned my family was back, she insisted they stay for a meal before they continued on home. After we ate sandwiches with tomatoes and greens from the garden, my mom pulled me aside and glanced around as if to make sure we wouldn’t be overheard.
“You can come back with us,” she said in a low voice.
“No.” I shook my head. “I can’t.”
She drew her brows close. “Why not?”
“Because…” I pursed my lips. “Because I made a promise.”
“You didn’t have much of a choice.” She placed one hand on her hip and huffed. “That creature…” She sneered with disgust.
“Mom, it’s okay. We made a deal and look at how it worked out for Henri.” I forced a smile. “I’ll be home before you know it.”
She studied me for several seconds. “As long as you’re safe.”
“I’m safe,” I assured her. “And eating well.” I tilted my head toward the castle. “How could I not with Genevieve’s cooking?”
“True,” Mom agreed. “I wish I could make you meals like that. At least I know you won’t go hungry.”
“And neither will you,” I said with a smile. “Let’s pack a basket for the cart. We have plenty of vegetables and beans and grains. Whatever we can pack, I’m sending with you.”
Henri was safe and I was sure that he and Mom were back home by now. Yet after another day with no progress, I was succumbing to the fact that I couldn’t accomplish much to restore the wards on my own.
That meant I had to confront the source I dreaded most. My feet felt heavy as I trudged through the stone corridors searching for Victor. I found him tending the hearth in the great hall, the smell of woodsmoke thick in the air.
“Okay,” I said, my voice coming out more breathless than I’d intended. “I’ll do it.”
He arched his bushy gray brows. “Do what?”
I swallowed hard, the name tasting bitter on my tongue. “Talk to Hadrien. How do I reach him?”
Victor straightened, brushing ash from his hands, and pointed up toward the vaulted ceiling. “Head outside before sundown. And call to him.”
That evening, I worked my jaw as I paced the perimeter of the castle like a sentry and wandered past the stone statues as the sun began its descent.
The sky turned from blue to purple to deep amber, escorting the soft glow of the moon. The shadows of the gargoyle statues stretched across the grounds, reaching for me.
Or warning me.
A crack above, and I jerked. I glanced up at the tower with the gargoyle perched above. At first, I saw nothing as my eyes adjusted to the dim light.
Then—movement.
The statue moved. Rose. Its wings unfurled across the night sky. A brilliant silhouette beneath the moonlight.
Hadrien stretched out his body, rolling his massive shoulders and shaking out his muscles.
Sweet goddess, he was magnificent. Terrifying yet magnificent.
For a heartbeat, he stood still on his perch. Then he spread his wings, so wide that they blotted out my view of the moon, and he propelled himself into the night.
My breath caught in my throat.
He soared with an elegance that enchanted me. How could something so large appear so graceful?
Instinct screamed at me to run inside and hide from this monster. Yet another part of me stayed still, entranced by his graceful flight.
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to summon my courage and do what I came to do. Raising my chin, I called out, “Hadrien!”
He paused in the air as if listening. He turned and swooped down toward me with those massive wings and terrifying silver eyes. My shoulders rose with the urge to cower, but I hardened my resolve not to yield to the fear.
His massive, clawed feet touched the ground about ten feet away, landing with such force that it sent tremors through the soil.
Vibrations traveled up through my boots and into my body—strange, unsettling sensations.
He straightened, folding his leathery wings in with a snap of warm air that breezed over my skin, and fixed those intense silvery-gray eyes on me.
“You’re very brave or very foolish to be calling me in the dark, Little One. ”
I swallowed hard as I stared at him, questioning whether this was a mistake. “I need to talk to you.”
“Do you?” He snorted. He stepped closer, his massive body towering over me.
Despite his formidable stature, something about how the moonlight caught the planes of his face captivated me.
The gray of his skin shimmered under its glow.
The scars showed pale against the darker gray, fine white lines that crisscrossed his arms and chest. What he must have endured to earn them.
An unexpected pang of sympathy rose for this cruel creature.
My gaze traveled slowly up his muscular torso, to the sharp lines of his chiseled face and jaw.
Features that without the fury distorting them were more striking than I wanted to admit.
My tongue felt dry and I swallowed. Slowly, I dragged my gaze up to meet his eyes.
They shone with such a cold gleam they appeared luminous, silver rather than gray, lit from somewhere deep.
“Because…” I bit the words out past my fear. “I need your help. With the wards. I need to understand how they work in order to strengthen them.”
He stared at me, his expression unreadable until it pooled into a bitter smile. “And yet, you said you could work with them.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. He wasn’t going to make this easy. “Well, I tried.”
“And failed.”
His mocking tone irked me. “Don’t be so stubborn,” I snapped, wagging a finger at his massive torso. “I’m trying to help you.”
His eyes flashed. “Careful, Little One. You’re in no position to—”
“To what? Tell you that you’re being foolish?” Heat flooded through me, burning away the fear. “That your bitterness and anger won’t help you, when I’m trying to—”
“There is no helping me,” he roared, and his warm breath brushed over my face. “No reinforcing the wards. Don’t you think I’ve tried?” His mouth curled into a snarl.
“Then why?” I threw my hands up as I resumed pacing, exasperation bleeding through my pores. “Why agree to give me twenty-one days if you’re so certain nothing can be done? Is this just some game to you? To amuse yourself while my family and I fight for survival?”
He went as still as if he’d shifted back to statue form. I studied him as he stood there—the gigantic, muscular body, the chiseled core, the broad shoulders. The only movement was a twitch of his lips. Was it surprise?
“Nothing about this situation is amusing.” His voice lowered with gravity. Then he straightened and sneered. “Like you said, I must be foolish.”
“Indeed.” I planted my hands on my hips and stared at him, my breath coming harder now. “No.” I shook my head. “I don’t believe it.”
He cocked his head. “Believe what?”
“That you truly think this is hopeless.” I took a step closer to him, despite every instinct screaming at me to retreat. “Deep down, you must believe something can be done.”
“Hope is a foolish thing, Little One.”
“Hope is the only thing,” I countered. “Otherwise, why bother?”
He stared at me with a curious glint in hard eyes, and for a moment, just a flash, heat rose over my body. Yes, he was terrifying. Absolutely monstrous. But a part of me—just a sliver—responded to him in a way I didn’t quite understand.
I took a steady breath. “Maybe if we work together instead of on our own. Try to trust each other.”
He stared out into the darkness toward the forest for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he turned and lashed out, “Like them?”
“What?” I blinked in surprise and stepped backward.
His eyes flashed with pain beyond the fury, raw and terrible anguish. “Now just statues, Little One. Stone corpses.” His voice took on a bitter edge. “Those were my soldiers. They trusted me. And look at them now.”
My heart pummeled against my ribs as I dared to look at all the figures. So there was indeed life in there once. “What…” My voice dropped to barely a whisper. “What happened to them?”
Silence gnawed across the night. “The same thing that will happen to me.”
I inhaled sharply. “No…”
“That’s my fate, Little One.” He lifted one large hand and swept it across the graveyard of his soldiers. “You can’t help me.” The gravity of his voice echoed around me, leaving no room for argument.
Still, I tried. “But…”
“But what?” He arched his brows. “You think you’re strong enough to break a curse?”
“A curse?” I whispered.
That word seemed to echo between us. The only being I knew who was powerful enough to cast such a horrific spell was the monster who tormented us all. “The queen?”
He let out a bitter laugh. “I refused to command my men to follow her unlawful orders. And this is how she punished us all.”
My ribs tightened in my chest. “That’s…that’s vile.”
“That’s the queen.” His smile was sharp and cold.
“And her perverse sense of justice. She demands loyalty, and if questioned, lashes out and declares treason.” He straightened, walls slamming down his expression once more.
“So you see, Little One. There’s nothing you can do.
There’s nothing anyone can do. Her power is too strong.
Go back inside.” He turned away and his wings twitched as if he were about to fly.
“No.”
The word stopped him mid-stride.
“No?” He looked back at me, quirking an eyebrow. “You dare—”
“I dare,” I said, my heart hammering but my voice steady. “Because how do you know we’ll fail if we haven’t even tried?”
“You don’t listen,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have tried. I’ll try again tonight but nothing will change.”
I took a deep breath, warring over my next words. “Let me come with you.”