Chapter Nineteen

Panic

The threat of rain weighed down the air. Thunder growled, rattling the stained glass. The eldest called us to attention. Our bodies were stone, affixed to the towers spearing the night, but when we congregated, our glimmer undulated like an aurora.

“Each gargoyle is charged with their own wing. Find the scrim. Destroy the scrim. There will be no rest until we triumph. Understood?” The eldest’s milky eyes pored over us.

“There were multiple screams,” said the lamprey-lion. “How do we know there weren’t more?”

“We don’t. Nor do we know what vessels they could be hiding in.”

I swallowed hard. “As in, possession?”

The eldest twitched, and their beak flashed in the storm. “Aye, the staff, the envoys, anything sentient. Even the Keeper.” Their voice dropped, along with my heart. No! Not her! I’d broken my duty to protect her, to save her. And instead, I unleashed evil into her home?

“We are the watchers of the citadel. Guardians of the night. We know the staff, the Keeper. You’ll be able to tell if they’re harboring a dark one, but Daughter forbid if any of the envoys were overtaken. They haven’t been here long enough to establish behavioral patterns.”

“What of the colonies?” asked the capybara-shark.

“I said anything sentient,” snapped the eldest. “And if any of the queens were taken, their hives are at risk. A dark-tempered queen means a dark-tempered colony. The whole citadel is in danger.”

“We can crush the scrim in their raw form,” said the lion-elephant. “But what about when they’re attached to a source?”

“I…I can’t recall.” The eldest grimaced. “It’s been centuries since I’ve had to rip a scrim from a sentient.”

Guilt soured my phantom tongue. “What happens to the host’s soul?”

“Depends. The strongest fight the parasite, refusing to give in. Either they force the intruder out, or eventually, they hold their ground, and the intruder dissolves.”

“And for those too weak?”

The eldest sighed, and their glimmer wavered like a candle on its last breath. “They submit, allowing the parasite to seize their vessel. The longer it stays, the weaker the primary soul becomes until it falls into a deep sleep and dies.”

Panic condensed, rolling over the spires like storm clouds.

“But—”

“Enough!” The sky boomed, and icy rain gushed down. I shivered. “We’ve wasted too much time already. Search everywhere. Leave no corner unchecked. And, whoever slackened on their duties, I will find you. You will answer for your crimes, your destruction,” they spat.

The eldest assigned me the south wing, where the envoys and a third of the bee colonies were housed. Did they know I was the traitor? Why else hand me the hardest wing to search?

I nodded a little too enthusiastically and forced my glimmer through the turret into the hallway flanked by murals and hives. Unlike humans, I couldn’t simply walk through the corridors. I was soft, melting like sugar in water. Trying to ignore the marching – did it seem louder inside? – I used the walls, the mirrors, the torches to push my scattered awareness through, making my way into the first bedroom. Past the ocean of shadows and mauves, an amber eye blinked in the lavatory. A sconce. Not that I needed light anyway; my vision had adjusted like that of any creature of the night.

Face streaked in sweat, Lenita struggled in her sleep. I couldn’t touch her, but I had the urge to wipe the moisture away. She looked vulnerable. A far cry from when she elbowed Enzo or saved Felipe. She was the greatest threat to the Keeper, the reason I let a scrim through in the first place, but I was still drawn to her. A thin line between love and hate, the saying went, and I perpetually straddled it.

I touched her temple, an echo of warm flesh and, consciousness rippling through me, I pushed. Soft, damp, like cornsilk after a good rain, I withheld a cry. I stroked her hair! If I’d only tried harder before, I would’ve never released havoc. So misguided, so stupid. I touched her cropped hair for vindication. My fingers whisked right through.

Again, I tried.

Nothing.

I pressed my lips together, muting a growl. What had changed? No matter how many times I reached out, my claws glided through her like air. She stopped moving, eyelids no longer fluttering. Perfectly still, how was I to know if she’d been taken? She now seemed at peace. Should I wake her?

Scraping, like knives on slate. Behind her headboard.

I froze. We weren’t alone. Silly though it was, I wanted nothing more than to crawl under her blanket and hide from whatever haunted us. I pushed that alarm aside. I was a lost soul. Surely, our visitor wasn’t as terrifying as me. I strained my ears, but heard nothing more. Could it have been the scrim, lurking, waiting to pounce? I should have detected its presence as I had outside. Yet, hadn’t the eldest said the citadel was warded to prevent attacks? Gargoyles were an auxiliary layer of protection. Maybe they didn’t sound like they did outside?

The mattress shifted, the blanket puddling my feet. Big yellow eyes with slitted pupils met mine, gleaming like a viper’s. A scream scored my face, launching me into the wall. My motes scattered. Before I faded, a hiss that couldn’t have arisen from anything ever alive turned my glimmer into slush.