Chapter 8
Eight
Cairn
The drink looked like mud. It was brown and thick and sticky. Its only saving grace was the scent, something unfamiliar yet sweet and enticing.
“Are you sure this is safe to drink?” I asked.
My mate frowned. “Are you suggesting that I'd try to poison you?”
“No, of course not. I apologise. I will drink it now.”
“Careful, it'll be ho-”
I downed the mug in one go. My mouth burned. My tongue was in flames. I felt smoke rise from my horns and...
It was delicious.
“It burns like the Fires of Khazak-var but it tastes exquisite.” I touched my tongue, testing for burns.
“That's because you have to wait a bit for it to cool. Are you okay?”
“I got fewer injuries in the battle on Eos-9.”
She laughed and I soaked up the sound, committing it to memory. “You're such a drama queen!”
“I will have you know that I am neither royalty nor a female.”
“Figure of speech. Do you want another hot chocolate, seeing as you drank it all in one go?”
“Yes. Please. This time I shall watch how you drink it and learn from you.”
I thought that after observing humans for so long, I knew everything about them. Yet I'd still failed at something so simple. It would take more time to learn to live like them.
If I wanted to stay here, that was.
In my chat with Pam, she'd made it clear that she had a good relationship with the Intergalactic Authority.
She'd been sure they would arrange for a passage back home if I wanted to return.
It would solve a whole lot of problems. On Spiris, I wouldn't petrify if I spent time away from my mate.
I'd have other gharrgoils around, people who spoke my language, looked like me, understood me.
But my family was gone. My friends would have returned to the stone by now.
We lived longer than humans, but not this long.
My petrification had frozen my ageing process, at least physically.
My mind felt ancient and tired. My body was still that of a young warrior desperate to prove himself.
I had a feeling that at some point, this disconnect would give me trouble, but I had problems enough already.
“Is everything alright?” Georgie asked softly.
“Yes. Just... thinking.”
“Sometimes it helps to share your thoughts. It lightens the burden.”
“I am not sure you would understand. It is a strange situation.”
To my surprise, she burst out laughing. “Tell me about it. I have an alien gargoyle in my living room. I still haven't talked to my apprentice about how I suddenly disappeared into thin air. I don't know whether I'll go to work tomorrow. And I still know almost nothing about you!”
The last sentence burst from her lips with a strange desperation. We looked at each other. She seemed as surprised at the intensity of her emotions as I was.
Maybe she did feel the mate bond after all.
In the dating agency, Pam had taken me aside and explained that human women often took longer to recognise the signs of the bond.
They weren't used to the concept and often rebelled against it.
She'd made it very clear that I had to be patient with Georgie and let her decide the speed our relationship progressed.
But there was no doubt in my mind that it would progress. We were made for each other. My heart beat for hers. She had brought me back to life. And I couldn't bear the thought of being parted from her.
She was right about one thing, however. We barely knew each other.
“Let's change that. I want to know more about you as well. Would you like to play a game that we used to play back on Spiris? It might help.”
“A game?”
I didn't tell her it was a courtship game. She might refuse if she knew.
“It will help us get to know each other.”
Slowly, Georgie nodded. “Let me refill your mug and then we can get comfy on the sofa again.”
I did not find her furniture remotely comfortable - there was no space for my wings - but I did not tell her. There was no point. She could not create gharrgoil-approved furniture out of thin air. In time, if I stayed here with her...
Back on the sofa, I cradled my mug, careful not to burn myself this time.
“The game is called the Three Heights,” I explained.
“There are three levels: the ground, the cliffs and the sky.
The first player asks the other a question from one of the heights.
The ground covers childhood, family, habits, memories.
The cliffs represent fears, failures, regrets, but also difficulties overcome.
And finally, the sky is about dreams, desires, hopes for the future.
After the other player has answered, the first player must answer their own question. It's fairer that way.”
“And what if I don't want to answer a question because it's too private?”
I smiled at her. “Then you say 'The stone stays buried' and offer a fact of equal gravity and importance. We each ask one question from each height.”
“Is there a winner?”
“There is no winner. Gharrgoils do not compete with those they hope to understand.”
She rolled her eyes. “So it's truth or dare but without the dare.”
“We could add some dares, if you'd like.”
“No. Better not. Let's keep that for next time. You start. I need time to think of some evil questions.”
“Evil questions?” I laughed softly. “If that's how you'd like to play it... I will start with the ground. A simple one. What was your first impression of me?”
“I thought the ground was supposed to be about the past!”
“I feel like I have known you forever, which makes our first encounter the past.”
She blinked at me. “I'm not sure what to say to that.”
“You don't have to say anything. Just answer the question.”
Georgie shifted on the sofa. Our thighs almost touched.
“That one's hard because when I first saw you, I thought you were a statue.
I'd looked at drawings of you, well, the Guardian.
I'd known about you for years. But I didn't look at you as a living being. I saw the expert craftsmanship, the fine details, the realism in your wings and horns, the complete lack of decay. I did not think of you as a man when I first saw you.”
“And now?” My voice was husky.
She turned to me, eyes bright, a small smile curving her lips. “Now I know for certain that you're not a man.”
My tail clenched painfully.
“You're a gharrgoil,” she continued. “An alien. You're annoying, reckless, far too large for my house and still ridiculously gorgeous.”
Warmth rushed through me. “Ridiculously?”
“I hadn't meant to say the last bit. Don't let it go to your head.”
“Too late.”
She nudged my thigh with hers. It was a small touch, barely there, but she had chosen to do it. Heat sparked up my leg where she'd touched it.
“Your turn,” she said. “What was your first impression of me?”
I considered burying the stone.
Georgie narrowed her eyes. “It must have been bad if it takes you this long to answer.”
“I thought you were stupid.” And gorgeous. And a whole lot of other things.
“What?”
“You kept insisting you were dreaming while sitting on a castle wall and talking to someone you believed was a statue.”
“I'd nearly fallen to my death!”
“And then you nearly did it again.”
“Because you kidnapped me!”
I grinned at her. “That happened afterwards.”
She grabbed one of the cushions and struck me with it.
“Is this one of the human dares?”
Georgie's grin turned evil. “No. This is one of the human consequences. I was not stupid!”
“I may have been mistaken in my first impression. But so were you. You thought I was stone. Which kind of proves my point yet again.”
She raised the cushion again. “You're not making friends here, stone-man.”
I caught it before she could hit me. Georgie pulled, trying to take it back, but I held on. Our faces were suddenly close.
Her laughter faded.
“I no longer think you are stupid,” I said.
“What do you think now?”
“That is a different question.”
“Coward.”
“Ask it when we reach the cliffs.”
She let go of the cushion and leaned back, increasing the gap between us. I wanted to pull her back until she was pressed against me. I yearned for her touch. Needed it desperately, yet she wasn't ready.
“My turn,” she said after sipping from her mug. “I'll stay on the ground. What did you want to be when you were a child?”
I could see what she was doing. She'd chosen a simple, innocent question that wouldn't bring us back to the tension that had been sizzling between us a moment ago.
“I come from a family of warriors. I don't think I was ever given the option to choose a different vocation. But I loved it. Loved the thrill of the battle, the challenge, the honour I brought for my family and my people. I honed my body into a weapon.”
“Does that mean not all gargoyles look as chiselled as you?”
I flashed her a smile. “Are you talking as a stonemason or as a female admiring a male?”
“Stonemason. I'm nothing if not professional. And since I was hired to do maintenance on you, this is still a business relationship of sorts. I can't be seen ogling the grotesque I was supposed to remove moss from.”
“You never removed any of my moss. I should file a complaint.”
“You should.” Her gaze swept over me. “Is there any moss I should know about?”
“I scratched my back earlier and got some green under my fingernails. Maybe you should check. Since you're an expert.”
For a moment, she looked as if she was about to reach out, but then her expression closed off again. She wasn't ready yet. But we were making progress. That was clear.
“Your turn. What did you want to be?”
She bit her bottom lip. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen.
“For a long time, a firefighter. But then I burnt myself at my grandma's house and decided I didn't want to be near flames again.
My parents wanted me to go to university and become a teacher like them, but I was never very academic.
I preferred to work with my hands. And since becoming an artist didn't seem like something that could pay the rent, I signed up for an apprenticeship in traditional skills, then specialised in stonemasonry two years in.”
“And are you happy with your choice?”
Georgie answered immediately. “Yes. It might not be a very glamorous job, or even a well-paid one, but I love what I do. That's the important thing, isn't it?”
I nodded. I was really getting the hang of these human gestures.
“Not quite so fast,” Georgie whispered. “Nodding is slower than that.”
Or maybe I wasn't.
“My turn again,” I said. “I will move up to the cliffs now. What do you fear most?”
It was a very personal question, but if I wanted to protect her from everything that could do her harm, I needed to know her fears.
She ran a hand through her hair and didn't say anything for a while.
“The stone is... broken?”
“The stone stays buried.”
“Yes. That. I would have to think about that first. But I can give you part of an answer.
I'm terrified of heights. Climbing ladders is the worst part of my job.
I've learnt not to look down, but you get high enough that the ladder wobbles with every step and you know that if you slip, that's it...
I hate it. I wish they'd built gargoyles and grotesques on ground level.
Annoyingly, they're usually on roofs and walls, which means ladders.
Scaffolding is slightly better, but we only use that if it's a longer restoration job because it takes so long to put it up.”
“Have you always been afraid of heights?”
“I think so. I can't remember a time when I wasn't.”
“Did something happen or-”
“Not every fear is based in trauma,” she interrupted. “Some people just don't like heights. It's not my fault you're a flying gargoyle and love being away from solid ground.”
Something had upset her.
“What's wrong?” I asked as gently as I could manage.
“I just once again realised just how big the difference is between us. Differences, plural. You fly. I'm scared of heights. You're huge. I have a tiny cottage. You're ancient. I'm about to turn thirty. You...”
“None of that matters. All of that can be overcome. Are you upset by these differences because you're starting to accept that you are my mate?”
She glared at me. “No. I'm just thinking about it... because.”
“Because what?”
“Because nothing. It's just because. Now stop and answer the question yourself. Biggest fear. Tell me.”
I didn't have to think about it. “Turning to stone once more.
Unable to move, stuck, becoming a watcher who can never engage, never interfere.
I have had to watch terrible things from that wall and I wasn't able to even close my eyes or turn my head.
I had to watch whenever I was awake. Which is why I tried to sleep as much as I could.
It is horrendous to be a permanent witness who has no chance to change anyone's destiny, least of all my own.”
Her expression softened. “That sounds awful.”
“It was. You waking me from petrification was the best moment of my life. Feeling life return to my fingers was-”
I wiggled the fingers of my right hand to make a point and froze. My thumb didn't move. My skin had gone hard around it.
Stone.
I was turning to stone once more.