Chapter Fifteen

The Well

Stone World

Leah shrieked as she sank to her knees in the stone. Her hands clawed at the earth—until her mind caught up with her reactions.

Jasper must have heard her signal and was pulling her down to him. Those were his stone hands on her ankles. Unless it was Gerhardt’s collared gargoyle, Rose Granite? It didn’t matter. She’d take her chances with either one over the Elect.

Elect Harmon had backed away in panic, but now he, too, realized what was happening. “Seize her! Don’t let her escape!”

Burt grabbed her under the arms and pulled, but the gargoyle won the tug of war. The stone reached her waist now, a very odd feeling. Her legs weren’t dangling in mid-air, but were encased in muddy stone. She couldn’t move them more than an inch.

Elect Harmon glared at Titus. “Do you want your reward or not? Help him.”

Expression determined, Titus stepped forward.

Leah jammed her hands down against her waist. Once they sank into the stone, she would be safer.

Burt yanked her right hand free, but her left caught. He wrenched at her arm while the gargoyle pulled her down. Pain shot through her like a lightning bolt. Leah screamed, afraid Burt was going to dislocate her shoulder.

Desperate, she spit in his face. He recoiled, and she shoved her hand down. This time, the gargoyle caught it. She was sunk in the stone floor up to her chest now. Her head was at knee level.

Triumphantly, she smiled up at Elect Harmon.

His eyes narrowed. “The traitor’s not leaving here alive. Tie a rope around her neck.”

Burt gaped at him. He held up his hands as if to show he had no rope.

Snarling, Elect Harmon removed his woven belt.

“No.” Burt backed away. “Do your own killing.”

Leah wriggled her shoulders. “Faster!” she yelled, but she didn’t know if the gargoyle heard her. The stone hands now grasped her hips, pulling.

Elect Harmon looped his belt around her neck and pulled it snug. “Tell the beast to stop, or he’ll kill you.”

But Leah had no breath to tell the gargoyle anything. She snatched a last mouthful of air, and then her head sank into the warm, liquid stone. An air bubble formed over her face, but the rope cinched tight around her neck. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t reach her neck to claw the belt free; she was dying—

She had a moment to wonder if her spirit would die here in Dorotea’s body or return to her own, and then everything went black.

Pitch-darkness. Pain in her throat.

“Leah?” Jasper asked anxiously, his deep voice like stones grating together. He lit the candle and held it up, illuminating a small pocket of stone. “Are you well?”

“No,” Leah moaned. She coughed and touched her throat. Her fingertips dislodged some fibers still clinging to her bloody, abraded flesh.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the rope,” Jasper said anxiously.

She patted his hand in mute reassurance. Talking hurt.

“Who did that to you?” There was no mistaking the anger in Jasper’s snarling voice. “I’ll rip him limb from limb.”

Warmth suffused her chest. Jasper reminded her so of Gideon. Her dragon would have vowed vengeance, too. “No need. I’ll recover, and we’re both safe.” At least until Gerhardt and Rose Granite caught up with them. Had they gained any time at all?

“I shouldn’t have let you cross the cavern alone.”

Leah sighed. “I’m a stranger here on this world. I misjudged.” Her words emerged as croaks.

“You must stay close to me after this.” His hand cupped her cheek. His flesh felt hard and smooth, not rough at all. Quarters were very close, and the air between them warmed as they exhaled.

She could almost imagine she was with Gideon; his hot blood had kept his skin deliciously warm. She swayed closer, parting her lips. His head bent toward hers, his golden eyes half-lidded.

Golden, not diamond like Gideon’s.

Leah turned her head away. Fool. Shame washed over her in a red tide. She’d done the same thing with Ryan, Gideon’s Water self: pretended he was her lost love. But an otherself wasn’t the same person. Ryan wasn’t Gideon—he loved Holly, not her. And Jasper was destined to belong to Dorotea.

Even if Dorotea didn’t deserve him.

She cut off the dangerous line of thought and changed the subject. “How close is Rose Granite?” She coughed, the words irritating her throat.

“No more than ten minutes behind,” Jasper said after a pause. “She told me how to reach the dead city. She says the stone around it is very crumbly and bad for tunneling but that there’s a way up on foot. Once we leave the stone, we’ll be harder to track.”

“Then let’s go,” Leah croaked.

“Put your hands on my shoulder so we don’t become separated.”

Once she complied, he blew out the candle, and they tunneled through the stone.

Leah ought to have been worried about Rose Granite and Qeturah and what to expect Above. But nowadays, danger only wearied her. Instead, her mind kept returning to the moment of their almost-kiss.

“Here.” They stumbled out of a wall and into a shaft of weak sunlight.

Leah looked around, her mouth falling open. After sorting out the images, she concluded that they stood at the bottom of a great well. What must once have been a large lake but was now little more than a pond lay to their left, water gleaming black in the scant light.

In a muddy puddle sat an iron bucket large enough for Leah to climb inside. A loop of thick chain connected it to nine more buckets stretching up and up to the square of sunlight above. Four buckets were on their way up, and five eternally descended. A ring of six tall pillars supported the roof above.

She would venture to guess that the buckets had once dipped into a deep lake and hauled up water, back when the dead city still flourished. Only, they’d drained the lake, and the people had been forced to follow the source of the water underground.

Leah studied the bucket brigade doubtfully. The metal links in the chain were as thick as her arms. “The links might be climbable, but it’s a really long way up.” And how old was the chain? Was it safe? Would the links hold?

“I’ll haul you up in the bucket,” Jasper said.

Leah didn’t like that idea. “No. There should be steps somewhere.” She paused to cough, then continued hoarsely: “Dorotea remembers climbing an endless spiral staircase.”

“We’re running out of time,” Jasper said grimly, but he agreed to search for the stairs. Leah headed toward the bucket brigade. Maybe there was something behind it.

…

Fire World

A low rumbling from outside drew Dorotea to the hole in the wall. She watched as burning orange lava painted bright lines down Thunderhead’s cone.

The Volcano Lord was grieving the death of his son.

Tears clogged her throat, and Dorotea was hard-pressed not to bawl her eyes out again. You’re being ridiculous. None of that happened to you. But when she remembered Gideon’s diamond dragon eyes closing, her chest ached.

It was so wrong. So unfair.

She started to pace, but after a few circuits around the chamber, the Four Worlds mirror caught her eye. She stood in front of it. According to Leah’s memories, Dorotea was from Stone world, which was represented by the gold mirror.

Tentatively, she placed her hand on the flat surface and attempted to Call her otherself. “Leah? Are you there?”

(Dorotea?) Leah sounded wary.

Dorotea could see her in the wavery gold now, though Leah didn’t meet her eyes. Her body looked well enough, perhaps a little disheveled, but the gargoyle obviously hadn’t killed her.

She wanted her body back. Her breath caught at the intensity of the need. How to persuade Leah? Tell the truth. “I’ve seen your memories, how Gideon died. I don’t know if Qeturah’s been working to agitate the Goddess or if she caused the blackout somehow, but I want to help stop her. We’re on the same side; we both want to save Stone World.” She bit her lip, stopping short of begging to have her body back. She didn’t belong here in this terrible ash-choked world Above.

(What about Jasper?) Leah asked, unconvinced. (I won’t give you your body back until I know you won’t hurt him again.)

“Who’s Jasper?” Dorotea asked, confused.

Leah sighed. (the gargoyle, of course. and I’ll warn you right now: I took off his collar, and he melted it down. you’ll never control him that way again.)

What? “You took off his collar? And he didn’t kill you? My body is safe?” Did that mean Leah was still with him? The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

(he didn’t kill anyone.) Leah sounded disgusted. (you’re in danger from your own people, the Elect, not from Jasper.)

“You’re wrong,” Dorotea said with conviction. “He tried to choke me just before you took over.”

(no, he didn’t.)

“How would you know? You weren’t there!” Dorotea snapped.

(Jasper wouldn’t do that. what reason would he have? if he killed you, the collar would have tortured him for eternity.)

That was true.

Her mind was seeded with sudden doubt. He had been trying to kill her, hadn’t he? The memory was all mixed up with the dream she’d been having. “Wait a moment. Let me think.” She rubbed her head. “I was having a nightmare about my father being murdered by gargoyles,” she confessed. “When I woke up, the gargoyle was looming over me, shaking me.” Had his hands been on her neck or only her shoulders? “Maybe…maybe he wasn’t trying to kill me. Maybe I overreacted.”

(overreacted? you told him to die, and when he couldn’t comply, the collar tortured him.)

Leah started to draw away.

“Wait!” Dorotea said desperately. “I am sorry, truly I am. I don’t even remember commanding the gargoyle to die. I was in a panic, not thinking. I mean, if he’d died, I would have been trapped in the cavern forever. And he may be innocent, but he did threaten me earlier, you know. I had reason to fear him.”

Leah cautiously came closer again. (your memories do bear that out. I’ll absolve you of attempted murder, but it still doesn’t excuse your earlier behavior. you enslaved and hurt him.)

Before all this started Dorotea would have said that gargoyles were made of stone and couldn’t be hurt, but she knew now that wasn’t true. She winced. “I didn’t have a choice. Gargoyles and humans are enemies. I couldn’t risk him hurting someone.”

Leah stiffened and forgot herself enough to glare at Dorotea. (as long as you keep thinking of him as a violent beast, I’ll never let you have your body back.)

Dorotea reeled back as if she’d been slapped. “Gargoyles aren’t innocent,” she said hotly. “They killed my father.”

(they? don’t you mean one of them? some humans are murderers, too. does that make all humans beasts?)

Doubt niggled at Dorotea’s brain. In the old tales, gargoyles had been friends with Stone Hearts—one didn’t befriend a monster. The gargoyle—Jasper—had been clever and sarcastic. He’d helped her escape from the Cathedral, and he’d surprised her several times, like when he’d said he was sorry about her sister. “You’re right. I shouldn’t judge him as a murderer, too. I mean, he was only a child during the gargoyle rebellion.”

(very magnanimous of you,) Leah said dryly.

“I bear the gargoyle—Jasper,” she corrected herself, “no ill will. He has his freedom now; isn’t that enough? I just want my body back, so I can return to my mother and sister.” She’d beg and plead if need be.

(I don’t know if that will be safe.)

“That’s my decision,” Dorotea said firmly. She had no doubt that Leah was right, and Gerhardt and the Elect were hunting her now, but it didn’t change anything. She needed to return to Marta. At the very least, she needed to say good-bye. “Please.”

(very well. but I’ll need your promise first that you won’t harm Jasper.)

Irritation prickled at Dorotea. “And do I get a promise in return that he won’t harm me? He’s the creature with fangs and claws, remember? And he’s made of stone. Without the collar, I have no hope of hurting him.”

(stop talking about him like that! Gideon was a dragon, but he wasn’t a beast. Ryan’s a siren, but he’s a boy, not a fish! Jasper isn’t a beast, either!)

Dorotea frowned stubbornly. It wasn’t the same. Gideon had been a boy with the ability to change into a dragon because he was the son of a Fire Elemental. It occurred to her that his otherself on her world ought to be the son of a Stone Elemental. She thought of the Artisan boys she knew and wondered if one of them—

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Wait. Are you telling me that he’s my soul mate?” Dorotea demanded. “A gargoyle?” Her incredulity swiftly turned to relief. This explained everything: why Jasper was less brutish than she’d expected, why she’d been drawn to choose him out of all the other gargoyles, and her strange attraction to him. Because he wasn’t all gargoyle; he was half-human.

(yes, that is what I’m telling you. but obviously you’re not ready to hear it.) And Leah broke the connection.

…

Stone World

“We’re out of time to search for a stairway,” Jasper said grimly. “Rose Granite can’t delay her master much longer.”

“Very well. How do we—” Leah broke off and let out a little squeak as Jasper put his hands around her waist and boosted her into the bottom iron bucket.

“Thanks.” Leah fought down a blush. As a gargoyle, he could span her waist with both hands. He made her feel dainty in comparison.

He smiled back at her. “I just hope this works.” He hauled on the down chain. His stone muscles bulged with the effort, and Leah caught her breath in appreciation.

How could Dorotea look at him and see only ugliness? Leah saw strength, and the red jasper stone was strange but beautiful.

Leah shouldn’t be looking at him that way. Guiltily, she turned toward the lake and saw a group of people running along the shore toward them. Unskilled after the bounty promised by the Elect, no doubt.

“Jasper!” The shout hurt her throat. She pointed.

He saw them and hauled harder on the chain.

They would be on him long before he could haul her to the top. Leah started to climb out of the bucket, but the walls were chest-high, and before she could swing her foot over the edge, the bucket swayed wildly and left the ground.

“Jasper, stop! Let me out!”

He ignored her, leaning back with all his body weight. The bucket jerked three feet higher off the ground. Leah’s foot slipped off the rim, and she fell to the gritty bottom of the bucket, making it swing back and forth. A surge of dizziness forced her to close her eyes.

By the time she regained her feet, she was ten feet off the ground and rising. The line of buckets going down balanced the ones going up so the same amount of force was needed to lift each one.

Jerk, grind, rattle. Make that fifteen feet.

Leah bit her lip. She wanted to stand beside Jasper and fight with him, but what could she do really?

Get in Jasper’s way. Hamper him.

It was hard, but she made herself stay in the bucket and watch.

The entire group was running now, strung out into a line. She could just recognize the foremost as Burt. Elect Harmon lagged far behind. Good. She hoped he twisted his ankle or gave himself a heart attack.

The clump of six Unskilled came next in a mob. Another six had given up the chase and were just walking. They must be volunteers for the power station repair party. She squinted. Two more of the Elect engineers brought up the rear. Where was Elect Trudi?

Icy terror shot through Leah. “Jasper, watch out! She has a gun!”

“What’s a gun?” He didn’t glance back, still hauling on the chain. It skreeked and shuddered, the bucket swaying again.

Leah grabbed the rim for balance. Twenty feet up now. She’d break bones if she jumped. “A gun is a weapon,” she said hoarsely. “It shoots bullets—bits of metal—at high speeds.”

“It won’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that! It might fracture you.”

“Guess I should hurry, then.”

The lowest of the five descending buckets settled to the dried lake floor, taking the place once occupied by her bucket. From the strain on Jasper’s face, it took greater effort to get one of the iron weights into the air than it took to move it up the chain. He pulled and pulled, muscles bunching and cording—

Leah looked beyond him. Burt and Titus were only one hundred feet away now. They were only armed with shovels, but Elect Trudi now ran in third place, gun held at her thigh.

Leah scanned her surroundings for a weapon, but all she could find were three fist-size rocks, sliding around the bottom of the bucket. She picked two up, one in each hand. She had no confidence that she could hit anyone from this distance, but she ought to be able to cause a distraction.

Clank. Jasper lifted the second bucket off the ground. Gargoyles didn’t sweat, but streaks of black showed in the red pattern of jasper, like enlarged veins.

He was starting on a third bucket when Burt reached him.

“Stand back,” Jasper growled.

Burt approached from the front while Titus circled around behind. They held their shovels like clubs.

“Concentrate on Burt,” Leah yelled down, then coughed again. “I’ll warn you if the other one gets too close.” She could at least use her bird’s-eye view to do some good.

Burt swung his shovel at Jasper’s head. Jasper raised his arm and took the blow. Leah winced at the crack of impact, but his arm didn’t break. He suffered another blow to the chest, then grabbed Burt’s shovel.

The two men engaged in a brief tug of war.

Titus charged. “Behind you!” Leah yelled, or tried to. Her voice emerged as more of a croak.

Jasper released Burt’s shovel—the sudden loss of opposing force made Burt fall onto his butt. Jasper spun around, snarling. Titus’s mouth fell open, and his stride faltered.

Jasper wrenched Titus’s shovel away and, still growling, crumpled the metal scoop with his bare hands. A spurt of pride expanded Leah’s rib cage.

Titus retreated, but Burt rolled to his feet again, grim determination etched on his face. His shovel had a heavy triangular point instead of a thin scoop.

Jasper bared his fangs. His wicked claws sprang out like a handful of knives.

Burt hesitated, then addressed the other Unskilled workers. “On the count of three. One—”

Jasper didn’t wait. He lowered his head like a battering ram and charged Burt. He hit the smaller man in the stomach, knocking him down.

After a moment of startlement, the six other Unskilled joined the fight. Jasper grabbed the closest two men and swung them together. Their skulls connected with an audible thunk—but didn’t break open. Jasper wasn’t using his full strength.

Another Unskilled man jumped onto his back; Jasper flung him away. He hit the ground with a cry but got up.

“All together, men,” Burt called. “Pile on.”

Again, they rushed him. Again, Jasper threw them back, but there were too many. They were overwhelming him.

Elect Trudi raised her handgun and aimed through the crowd, undeterred by the risk of injuring the Unskilled volunteers.

“Jasper!” Leah rasped, terrified.

He looked up, and while he was distracted, Burt wrapped a shirt around Jasper’s head, effectively blinding him.

A crack of gunfire rang out. A bullet embedded itself in Jasper’s chest. He staggered backward.

Leah screamed, uncaring of the pain in her throat. No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening. Not again. She couldn’t lose Jasper, too. She threw the stones in her hands. The first landed near Burt’s feet, making him startle but doing absolutely no damage. Her second throw was even wilder, but the rock bounced off the bucket below with a horrendous ringing crash.

Elect Trudi fired at the bucket. The bullet whined off and hit Titus in the leg. He cried out, and the other Unskilled scattered in fear and confusion.

Jasper shredded the shirt, flailing wildly.

“Stop!” Burt grabbed the woman’s arm, and the gun went flying.

Free, Jasper advanced on Burt, snarling.

Worried, Leah gnawed on her lip. This was not going to end well. Jasper was growing desperate, and with his strength, he might easily crush a skull by accident. If he killed one of them, it would reinforce all their beliefs that gargoyles deserved to be enslaved.

“You’re not a beast,” Leah rasped. Tears pricked her eyes. “Don’t let what they think of you turn you into a killer!”

Jasper heard her. He roared, then jumped six feet straight up. His powerful hands grasped the downward chain, and he began to swing himself up hand over hand.

Burt caught his ankle. Jasper kicked him off, and Burt sprawled, winded, on the mud below, but the moment of extra weight started the chain loop moving again. Leah’s bucket rose up, nearing the top, and Jasper’s chain began to descend.

Leah watched, heart in her throat, as the next bucket destined for the bottom loomed over Jasper’s head, ready to crush him.

Jasper climbed to the top of the bucket before it set down, but now he was back within reach of the others. They clustered around his feet.

Leah’s bucket reached the top and tipped over. She crawled out and jumped onto a water trough. The metal groaned ominously beneath her weight but didn’t collapse.

Her bucket continued to roll over and began to descend. Leah peered past it and saw Jasper swinging back and forth near the bottom. He kicked an Unskilled in the chest, then, on the next pendulum swing, Jasper grabbed the up chain with his second hand and used both chains to pull himself hand-over-hand up and out of reach.

Elect Trudi had regained her gun. She shot twice, missed both times, and would have fired a third if Elect Harmon hadn’t arrived. “Stop wasting bullets!” he told her. “You, pull!” At his furious gesticulations, the Unskilled all began to pull on the down chain.

Jasper simply switched most of his weight to the up chain.

Elect Harmon ordered the Unskilled to stop. He pointed to a pillar.

Leah’s heart lurched, Dorotea’s memories suddenly bursting over her head: the pillar contained the spiral staircase. “Climb as fast as you can!” she shouted down at Jasper. He was strong, but it was a long climb. She didn’t think he could make it before Burt and his men made it up the stairs.

Stop standing there like a ninny and help him.

Leah climbed down from the trough and immediately spotted a winch mechanism, but it was huge—a turnstile almost as tall as she with six spokes. Perhaps they had used mules to turn it.

Despair corroded her insides. Jasper might be able to turn it, but not a puny girl. Yet doing nothing guaranteed Jasper would be killed or enslaved. She had to try.

Leah put her hands on a bar and began to push. Her feet slipped, but the turnstile didn’t budge. She leaned her back against it, pushing with all the strength of her body. Straining.

“Please,” she begged. And pushed some more. Nothing.

Gasping, she clung to the wheel, sucking in air for another try. This wasn’t working!

Maybe she was pushing the wrong way? She tried the other direction. Puuusshhh! And this time it moved. Just a few inches, but it moved. She attacked it with a renewed ferocity, digging her toes in, and it began to turn, ponderously at first, and then, after half a turn, smoothly.

The next bucket upended its scant contents of grit and sand, then descended again.

Puffing, Leah made two quick circuits. Another empty bucket was followed by a shout from below, “Leah!”

Jasper sounded overjoyed to see her. She glanced down and felt her own lips split with happiness. He was perched on the lip of the next bucket, holding the chain with one hand.

“Hurry. They’re coming up the stairs,” she croaked.

At the top, Jasper leapt onto the trough, landing on his feet much more gracefully than her awkward sprawl.

He started toward her, but a strange expression came over his face. He swayed, then collapsed to his knees.

Alarm blasted through Leah like a trumpet. She abandoned the turnstile and hurried to his side.

“Something’s happening to me,” he gasped.

His grimace reminded Leah of how Gideon had reacted to sunlight once they’d discarded the mirror talisman controlling his dragon nature—it had made him human. Relief mingled with fear. This needed to happen, but what terrible timing! She reached for his hand.

“Stay back,” he warned. “I don’t know what’s going on.” He bared his fangs, but she wasn’t frightened.

Leah knelt and draped her arm over his stone back. “Don’t fight it,” she whispered. “It’s perfectly natural. Your mother was human, and that’s part of you. Let your body change forms. Gargoyle below the earth, boy Above.”