Chapter 23 – Forrest
FORREST
One week before the blood moon…
“Please, just let me see her! Even if it’s only for a minute!” I know I’m begging, but it’s been one month since they allowed us to visit Medusa, and I’m desperate.
I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t see her soon, if I don’t know she’s safe.
Arthur looks uncomfortable. He knows why I’ve come now. The typical guards are assholes who’ve ignored our pleas. But Arthur is covering for them, now that their female is in labor, and he has a kind heart. He and I are friends.
“I’m not supposed to…” he says, but there’s something in his voice that I don’t like.
“Is she okay?” I ask.
He avoids my gaze. “She’s a monster, and a prisoner.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
After a minute, he sighs, and his grip on the handle of his sword loosens.
“The others wouldn’t want you to know, but the guards even feel sorry for her.
For a while, they’d come in and play cards with her.
She’d tell them stories. I think… I think they even liked her.
But things started to change about a month ago. ”
My heart races. “Change how?”
He looks uneasy. “She stopped eating. She’s been…
sick. Throwing up a lot. She gets paler and thinner.
The others didn’t tell you, but they’ve requested that the Elites give her time outdoors.
They have requested that she be allowed to see Galena in hopes of healing, but each time, they’ve been denied.
The guards didn’t want to do anything to risk their female’s health or their standing in the community, for their child’s benefit.
But I think they were glad to let me take over. ”
I feel sick. “Why?”
He runs a hand through his dark hair. “Because they knew I couldn’t see a female like that and do nothing.”
“What have you done?” I ask, a little hope blooming in my chest.
His gaze holds mine. “It’s not what I’ve done. It’s what I’m going to do.”
I frown, but before I can ask, he continues.
“This evening, just before the sun sets, I’m going to walk the perimeter. The guards within the prison will be taking a break to eat, and I’ll be the only one here. The others are busy helping the new moms.”
Two of the gargoyles had given birth to healthy sons. And the third was laboring. No one could remember ever having this many babies in the village, and everyone was scattering to care for them.
The Elites had sent our brotherhood on every errand under the sun, to care for the babies’ needs. We have retrieved every supply imaginable from neighboring cities, and even though we knew they were trying to distract us, we did as we were told. We’ve just recently returned.
“What are you saying?” I ask, even though I know.
He holds my gaze. “You’ll only have a few minutes with her. You’ll need to get in and out without being caught. And if they find you, my name stays out of it.” He looks troubled. “Try to get her to eat. Maybe it’s just sadness. Maybe you can lift her spirits, before she wastes away.”
I can’t help the fear that sweeps me under. How ill is Medusa? And what could be wrong with her? Immortals rarely got sick. But the fact that even the others are concerned makes me uneasy.
“At sunset,” I tell him.
He nods.
I clasp his arm, and he clasps mine.
“For what it’s worth,” he continues. “I was angry when I learned that you guys had fallen for her. I felt betrayed. But after spending time with her, I get it. And so do the others. I still think you’ll lose the blood moon judgment, but I think a few of us plan to speak on her behalf.
Even a few of the female gargoyles have spoken with her, since she has more knowledge of babies than they do, and…
I think they may even see her as a friend. ”
I’m surprised by everything he says. It sounds as if we were the only ones restricted from seeing her.
I leave, flying as quickly as I can to our home. It’s further from the village, in a massive tree near one of the smaller waterfalls. I land outside the door, and open it. I’m angry as hell, but I also have hope for the first time in months.
The others are waiting for me. They look up as I enter. Harold stops cooking over our little stove and Marcus and Byron stop sharpening their swords at the table.
“They didn’t let you,” Marcus sounds angry.
“Of course they didn’t,” Byron sneers. “I don’t give a fuck anymore, I’m going to see her.”
“One more week,” Harold presses. “We just need to be patient for one more week. If we can show that we can obey the rules, that she hasn’t turned us against them—“
“They’ll still kill her.” Byron sheaths his sword and places it on the table, his head bowed.
We’re all being tortured without her. It’s been three months of absolute hell. The few times we saw her… made us realize how much that we loved her. After being apart, we know how much we need her. She's the only female for us.
We've already decided that if they rule against her on the Blood Moon Judgment, we will fight. Even if it was to the death.
I take a deep breath. “We can see her tonight, if we want.”
Harold freezes. “What do you mean?”
“Arthur will be the only guard for a little while. He said that we can sneak in and out to see her.”
“Thank the Gods,” Marcus mumbles.
Everyone looks relieved, which is why I hate what I have to say next.
“There’s something else.” The air changes. “She’s sick.”
They look at me like I’m stupid.
“Sick how?” Byron asks, really slowly.
“Arthur said she hasn’t been eating. And that’s she’s lost weight… and she’s been throwing up.”
Something dark moves over Byron’s face. “For how long?”
“About a month. He said the guards have been worried enough about her that they asked the Elites to allow Galena to look at her.”
“And my father said no.” He rises very slowly from his chair. “So, our female has been alone in a prison cell, throwing up, and not eating, and no one thought to tell us? No one would even permit a visit from the healer?"
I nod, holding my breath.
He turns, paces for a moment, and then goes to the wall and begins to punch the wood until it splinters. When he draws his arm back again, Marcus catches it. Byron's knuckles are bloody when he whirls to face our leader.
“I’m going to kill them.”
Marcus looks between his injured hand and his face. “No, we’re going to save her. If she’s in as bad of condition as they say, we’re going to save her tonight.”
Some of the anger drains from Byron’s face. Marcus pulls him into a hug, and they clench each other tightly for a long moment.
“She’s going to be okay.” Harold removes the sharpened swords from the table, placing them on the weapons shelf. Then, he places bowls on the table and ladles out the stew. “She’s immortal. And like she says, she’s survived a lot. She can survive this too.”
Byron pulls out of Marcus’ hug and stares at all of us. “But she shouldn’t have to. Having four gargoyles to protect her should mean that she’s safe, and loved, not suffering alone. It kills me that this is all our fault! She did nothing to deserve this!”
And that’s it… the reason we can barely function, the reason none of us can laugh without her. That's the reason we barely eat, and we’ve withdrawn from our people.
She is ours to protect, and we’re failing her.
Something no gargoyle should ever have to endure.
“Sunset isn’t far away,” I tell them. “We should eat and gather our weapons.”
They nod, and the chairs scrape against the wooden floor as we settle at the table. But all we do is stir our stew, and no one talks. We are all thinking the same thing. Not far from us, the little woman who holds our heart doesn’t eat. How can we?