Chapter 17 #2
Gideon supposed he could see a roughly reptilian form if he squinted.
Perhaps that there was a wing? It was much larger in person than he’d expected from the pictures he’d seen.
Whatever it’d been, it hadn’t been a wyvern, and there was no way Felix Simms was solely responsible for its present state.
Gideon shook his head. It was of little import.
He had the information he’d come for. Both the reserve nexuses had been directly channeled from the main node and were fixed by outcroppings of granite.
Though one was rough stone and the other fashioned into a henge, they served the same purpose, and more importantly, they offered the same potential: the creation of more of his kind.
It wasn’t necessarily a boon. Not for him at least. The raw materials were here, yes, but once created, grotesques required a firm hand until they matured.
The process was time-consuming and, speaking as a former recruit, not particularly pleasant.
Gideon had little desire to act as anyone’s general.
Yet, it would return balance to the grid, and further guarantee Havers’s safety in the years to come, whatever may happen to its guardian. He turned away from the swamp, pensive, walking back across the hollow to one of the trilithons not toppled by age.
“So, what are you thinking?” Chase asked, trailing after him. He kicked at the frozen, rucked up ground.
Gideon laid a hand on an upright stone. “That I need silence for a moment,” he said, dismissing the man. Gideon closed his eyes, seeking the node’s regard. It came quickly, as if it’d been lying in wait for his summons. He frowned, not doubting that it had been.
Are there any souls willing? he asked it, positive no clarification would be necessary as to his intent.
The collective of spirits knew entirely too much, though how was a mystery.
The same wretched properties of saltwater that made it an anathema to his kind also prevented the grid from stretching beyond a landmass’s shores.
The node’s ability to communicate with other constructs on the far continent should’ve been an impossibility.
Yet, here he was, even more certain that his arrival had been orchestrated between the two.
The node giggled and burbled in his mind as if confirming his suspicions. With it came a strong impression of a child gleefully clapping its hands—and then it left him. He scowled, stepping back, but it would have to do. His message had been received.
“I’m finished here now,” he said to Chase.
The big man sighed, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Good. We’re running up against the clock if we’re gonna make it back on time.”
And he was no doubt as eager to return to Jena’s side as Gideon was to return to Ophelia’s. He’d hated leaving her whilst she slept, but had been loath to wake her, and there was far too much to do.
They started back through the silent woods, snow crunching beneath their feet.
Gideon had to admit it was peaceful here, though far wilder than anything he was used to.
Grotesques were creatures of the city. He’d enjoyed visiting the gardens dotting the City of Light, but those were refined, cultivated spaces.
He preferred their order to the natural chaos surrounding him, yet he could see himself becoming accustomed to this.
That was a positive, he suspected, considering he’d committed himself to remaining here in perpetuity.
Especially after issuing his plea to the node just now. Gideon frowned, already hearing the outcry from his brethren, but in blurring the node’s boundaries, he’d been left with little recourse. The damage had been done, and he had a responsibility to mitigate it.
“So, what do you think about the nexuses?” Chase asked, breaking the silence.
Gideon pursed his lips. “I think that Jena and her mother have inadvertently created the conditions necessary for birthing more of my kind. The only thing that remains is the node’s willingness to sacrifice one of its own.”
Chase glanced at him askance, and Gideon frowned. “The balance needs to be restored, and one can’t just put the genie back into the bottle. The node will reject any attempt at curbing its sphere of influence, but it may be persuaded to create agents bound to its will.”
“You’re talking about more gargoyles.”
“Just so. However, for that to occur, a soul needs to step forward, eschewing their place on the wheel of recreation, and agree to be bound, dedicating itself to the node’s defense.
” Which was a taller order than one might suspect.
Few souls jumped at the prospect of leashing themselves for an eternity, and even less were approved by the node’s collective.
Gideon wasn’t sure of the exact criteria, but it had resulted in fewer than a hundred of his kind sprinkled across the far continent. Most of the nodes there had a single guardian and never more than three.
Which was largely responsible for the uproar when he’d been released.
“So, you’re actually some dead guy?”
Gideon rolled his eyes. The man would fixate on that. “In theory. Though I have no memory of before, just waking as I am with a directive.” And a considerable amount of anger.
“Then why haven’t the nodes over here just popped out a bunch of you?”
It was a valid question, though one Gideon preferred not to dwell on.
“It takes a great deal of time for a soul to acclimate to this form, which is nigh impossible without another of mature status to guide them,” he said shortly.
And even then, it was not without incident.
He was positive that was where their reputation as dumb, violent brutes stemmed from.
His own stint as such was not a warm memory.
Chase glanced at him again. “But now you’re here.”
“That I am,” Gideon said with no small amount of acerbity. “Funny how events have aligned themselves, isn’t it?”
“Jena would call it karma,” Chase shrugged. “That’s why she thinks you and Ophelia are here. I dunno, balancing the scales or some shit.”
“I’ll go with the latter,” Gideon muttered.
Chase snorted. “Yeah, that was where my head went.” They walked for another few minutes before Chase turned to him again. “Say you do get a soul to bite. Would that make you their dad?”
Gideon swallowed, then cleared his throat. “More like their general, but if it helps you to think of it that way, by all means.” He certainly didn’t have what he would consider a father-son relationship with his, but mortals went to therapy for a reason. He suspected the comparison was apt.
“Are there female gargoyles?”
“No,” Gideon said succinctly. “Our creation predates equality between the sexes.”
“But it wouldn’t now.”
Gideon’s brow furrowed, not having considered that possibility.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, not wanting to think of the scandal that would cause.
His brethren, especially the older ones, would lose their minds, as would those of his generation, albeit for an entirely different reason.
“That would be left to the node’s discretion.
” And may the Gods help them all if its other decisions were anything to go by.
“Huh.” Thankfully, Chase’s phone chirped before he could ask anymore questions.
He took it from his pocket and glanced at the screen before he answered.
“Hey, babe. What? What do you mean you’re at the library?
I thought I—WHAT? Yeah. We’re almost to the truck.
Yeah, we’ll meet you there.” He hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose, swearing.
“Issues?”
“Yeah, I’d say. Apparently, your girl’s learned to shadow walk.”