Fanning my wings, the cloud broke, and the night sky once again filled my sight, its clarity as sharp as that of my mind. How long I had been within the cloud, I did not know, but it had been long enough that I had drawn a crowd since its passing. My Alexandra stood near the alchemist as the doorway leading down into the building filled with familiar faces. Her friends—and mine—Marshall and Aurora paused there when they saw me.
Alexandra looked to Caleb. “Is he . . . ?” she asked.
“Am I what, Alexandra?” I asked back. “I am quite capable of answering for myself.”
She smiled at that, awakening a lightness in me that I had long thought gone.
Marshall crept forward out of the doorway toward me, caution in his every move, but Aurora stayed there. The cylinder was already off her back, the pieces of her weapon already in her hand as she slipped the pole arm together.
“Hello, Marshall,” I said, my words causing him to stop. “Aurora.”
“It’s okay,” Caleb said, going back to work on a table near him full of vials and potions. “I think he’s back to normal. Although, truthfully, I’m not sure what passes for normal in gargoyle terms.”
“I prefer the term grotesque,” I said. “It is what Alexander called me.”
The blond human shrugged, then set about moving around the roof to pick up the assorted clay pots surrounding me. “Suit yourself,” he said.
Aurora came out of the doorway, pushing past him before stopping in front of me, her pole arm raised. She looked to the alchemist.
“How do we know he’s not in your control?” she asked.
“No, please, don’t all rush to thank me,” Caleb said, his voice flat.
“The lady makes a valid point,” I said. “How can they know that you are not the one in control of me now?”
Caleb shrugged once more.
“I guess they don’t,” he said.
Alexandra stepped to him, putting her hand on his arm. There was something tender in the gesture, something I found I did not care for.
“Caleb, please,” she said. “A little patience, please. They’ve got every right to be wary.”
Given my last encounter with the alchemist on the freighter, Caleb should be grateful I could not reach him at the moment.
He pulled his arm away from Alexandra and fell silent, returning to his work.
Aurora struck the roof that encased my feet with the blunt end of her weapon.
Alexandra’s eyes went to it.
“We need to release him,” she said.
Caleb looked through the interior of his coat. “That’s going to take a few minutes,” he said, picking among the contents there. “I used most of the mixture up in creating the trap to capture him in the first place. I need to whip some more up.”
“I can do that,” Marshall said. “I mean, I’m a quick study with what I’ve been able to read at the Libra Concordia on alchemy.”
Caleb turned and stared at him, unmoving.
“Or if you just jot it down for me . . . ?” Marshall said, some of his confidence fading.
“Alchemy and you?” Aurora asked. “That sounds like a lethal combination. Just let blondie here do it and be done with it.”
“No,” Marshall said, the single word filled with a sudden and surprising anger.
“I may still be able to free myself,” I said, attempting once again to move my legs within the solid stone. “It may take some doing, but I will try.”
“No,” Marshall repeated, turning to Alexandra. “I can do this! Lexi, look . . . I’m no good at what you do, right? I simply don’t possess the talent for it. As far as casting spells, I don’t have Rory’s level of precise movement or your level of determined will to drive it. But what Caleb here does . . . That’s like . . . cooking. It’s recipes, nothing more.”
“Nice,” Caleb said back to him. “Let’s downplay my skill set. Yes, Mr. Blackmoore, it’s just like cooking. Anyone can do it, right? Just ask any cook who’s gone up against an Iron Chef. Simple!”
“You’re no Morimoto,” Aurora said, leaving me to wonder what a “morimoto” was.
Caleb went to the table, slamming several vials down from out of his coat next to another group already on the table.
“Fine,” he said, pulling his notebook from his side pocket. “You want to try? Be my guest. But go easy on the Kimiya. That’s pretty much the last of it.”
The alchemist wrote with haste upon one of the pages, walked over to Marshall in front of me, then tore it free and handed it to him. “There you go, padawan. Try not to blow anything or anyone up, okay?”
Marshall paused before taking the page from him. “Is . . . that a possibility?” he asked, his voice quiet now.
Caleb shrugged. “Guess you’ll find out the hard way.”
Something about both the gesture and his voice set me on edge. Perhaps it was reminiscent of the tone he had taken with me while I was in captivity, and I could not help but react to it.
Trapped as I was, I could not reach out with my claws and grab him as I wished. My wings, however, covered a much greater span than my reach. I scooped them forward, catching Caleb between them and pulling him to me. I spun him, my claws digging into his shoulders through his coat, and I raised his face to mine.
“When last we met, you sent me here bound by Kejetan’s rules,” I said, growling. “You sent me here, putting Alexandra directly in harm’s way from me. You said I would take the secrets of Alexander from her cold, dead hands.”
The alchemist gave a nervous glance to Alexandra.
She came forward, circling to stand next to me in order to face Caleb.
“You said that . . . ?” she asked, her voice a mix of anger and pain.
My claws dug in at that, and Caleb hissed in my grip.
“I had to if this was going to work,” he fired out. “We were on Kejetan’s ship, and Stanis was entirely under his control. If I had told Stanis our plan, Kejetan would have found out. The dominant power that controlled Stanis would have blown everything if I had let your gargoyle in on it.” He met my eye. “You know it’s true.”
But was it?
“I cannot deny your claim,” I said.
My true voice had simply been a passenger to the dominant one. If Caleb had set me to any other task less specific than seeking out Alexandra to retrieve her secrets, it was quite possible I could have ignored it by circumventing Kejetan’s rules. Worse, I would still be hanging in the cargo hold as a prisoner. It was also quite possible that had he told me of the rescue plan, the dominant voice would have kept me from ever reaching them, and it might have forced me to reveal it to Kejetan.
“You see?” he said, craning his head around to meet everyone’s eye. “I’m not in with the bad guys.”
This was harder to see the truth in. Flashes of the torture I had endured at his hand tore through my thoughts. Every pain. Every injustice. Every moment that had kept me from Alexandra.
“Do you put these people in jeopardy?” I asked in a low growl, my claws digging even harder into his shoulders. “It was one matter to torture me, to break me . . . It is quite another to put these humans in harm’s way. I will not stand for it.”
He hissed again, but to his credit, the man’s head turned back to me, and his eyes stayed locked with mine. I would have taken him for fearless if not for the nervous laughter that followed.
“Relax, big guy,” he grunted out. “Rest assured that Alexandra’s safety is my paramount concern in this world. And Rory? I’m pretty sure she can handle herself with that pigsticker of hers.” He turned his head to Marshall over at the table, who was already sorting through a handful of vials. “And Marshall? I’m not going to leave him with anything he can lose his hands with.” His eyes came back to rest on me. “Trust me.”