Sorceress Hunting (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 3) (28 page)

After that last powerful blast wave of fiery magic,
Lillian gave herself a shake, rolled to her feet, and prepared to face Gryton
and death standing up. The hand not still clutching her only remaining sword
strayed to her belly, and her mind raced for a way to save herself and her
unborn child.

But Gregory and Darkness were down. River was
unconscious and covered in terrible burns. Lillian could smell the burnt flesh
scent from here. Her hamadryad was busy healing Gregory, River, and Darkness,
too, she sensed. Though what her tree could do for her father she didn’t know.
Gryton had all but gutted him.

She’d heard his heart stop, but he had turned to
stone.

Was he still alive?

Damn, she wished she knew more about gargoyles. But
she didn’t, and didn’t have time to worry either.

The remaining humans and Fae were dead, dying, or no
better off than her mother.

She raised her blade for a final defense against
Gryton. Although, by the growing intensity of the fire surrounding him, it
wouldn’t be a sword fight.

“You. Destroyed. My. Maze,” roared a voice almost deep
enough to rattle Lillian’s teeth in her skull. She glanced to the left in time
to see a ten foot tall troll-like Greenborrow slam Gryton with a massive
spike-studded club.

The much altered Greenborrow continued past Lillian in
pursuit of his prey. He landed a second hit, caught Gryton just under the chin
and lifted him up and on over onto his back.

“Those were my little ones. I planted them. This is my
forest!” Another punishing blow punctuated his statement and Gryton flew back
another fifteen feet.

Gryton hissed something Lillian didn’t understand as
he got his feet under him again. He was moving much slower than before, but
still moving. Those blows should have killed Gryton. He should have been dead
several times over. Lillian began to worry Gryton couldn’t be killed.

No, he could be killed. Gregory was going to sacrifice
himself to do it—that meant Gryton could be killed. They just had to figure out
how.

“And you were welcome to the forest, leshii. I care
nothing for this realm. All I have ever wanted is to return home. But you and
your people, and that meddling hamadryad would not leave me alone.” He directed
the last bit at Lillian. “Now this realm will burn along with me.”

Gryton raised his hand to the level of his shoulders
and then opened his fist, palm out toward the leshii. Fire raced down Gryton’s
arms and leaped across the distance. Greenborrow moved faster than Lillian
thought someone of his size could, but he didn’t clear the fiery wave
completely, and it caught him just below the elbow.

It reduced the club and the lower part of
Greenborrow’s arm to ash. The only reason Greenborrow might not die of the
wound, Lillian saw, was because it had been cauterized by the same fire which
had taken his arm.

Lillian bared her fangs and flexed her talons.

Gryton was raising his other hand to blast the leshii
with a second wave of power when Lillian lunged forward.

She was coming to realize she probably wasn’t walking
away from this fight when a loud war cry split the air.

“Heads up asshole. Incoming,” Corporal Mackenzie
snatched the pin out of the grenade she was holding and tossed it at Gryton.
“Catch that, Tin Man.”

It landed a meter from Gryton’s feet as Shadowlight bolted
past.

Her little brother and the human circled around just
as the grenade blew, sending Gryton and a cloud of dirt flying. Had Gryton been
even remotely mortal, he would have died about ten or fifteen blows back, but
he just crawled back to his feet, his hell fire burning more hotly than before.

Anna and Shadowlight came around for another volley.
The human landed two more grenades almost as close as the first one.

Gryton stumbled back and away as Anna lobbed another
grenade at him.

Again and again, the two courted death to herd Gryton
back toward the tree where the hamadryad was reaching for him with outstretched
branches.

Seeing an opening, Lillian called shadow magic to her
aid. She shaped it into little dagger-like shards as she’d seen her mother do.
Once she had several hovering in the air, she raced forward, rejoining the
fight. Her tiny biting shadows harassed Gryton. They were not lethal, but she
summoned more and more of them until they resembled a swarm of bees attacking
the commander.

Closing in on his location, she increased her speed
and then rammed him hard enough to send him back the last few feet and within
the hamadryad’s reach.

Branches slammed him into the ground where more of the
reddish roots sought entrance into Gryton’s armor.

A storm of magic boiled up where molten fire met cold
spirit magic.

Thunder rumbled, and the earth shook. Lillian lost her
footing and went down. Shadowlight and the human went sprawling on the opposite
side of the glade just as more soldiers arrived on the scene.

They froze at the sight of the tree wrapping Commander
Gryton in layers of roots and power.

Lillian wasn’t sure if the tree was trying to crush
the life out of him or if she was draining him of power as she had Gregory.

Whatever the hamadryad was doing, it was a massive
spell growing in size and power as she watched.

The very air vibrated to the flow of power. The flames
which had earlier been crawling across Gryton’s armor were now hissing and
flickering like a guttering candle. Well, at least the parts of him she could
see under the mound of fibrous roots.

Shadowlight and Anna scrambled to their feet. The
human soldier had an assault rifle pointed at Gryton, and Shadowlight was
inching closer as well. Both looked uncertain what to do with the hamadryad
still draining Gryton.

Lillian tightened her fist around the one sword she’d
managed to hold on to. Taking one step and then another in the enemy’s
direction she switched her hold to a two-handed one.

She might not know what her hamadryad was doing to
Gryton, but she knew what needed doing. The power in the air intensified the
closer she got to his location. Layers of magic thickened in the air,
increasing in resistance with each step.

Lillian was almost upon her prey when she felt her
hamadryad’s thoughts merge with hers.

Gryton is needed.

“Like hell.”

She raised her sword above her head, willing herself
to plunge the blade down and separate his damned head from his shoulders.
Surely all her gargoyle strength would be enough to end him.

She just had to do it.

One swift downward thrust and then it would be over, a
threat neutralized. Justice served.

Closing her eyes, she shifted her weight and then
thrust the blade down. Gargoyle strength and the magical blade cut through the
layers of resistance protecting Gryton.

Bright light seared her eyes even with them closed
tight and still she forced the blade downward until it’s tip buried itself in
the spongy loam of her glade.

She didn’t have to open her eyes to know Gryton was
gone.

Gone.

Not dead.

Her damn meddling hamadryad.

“Where is he?”

The hamadryad didn’t respond, at least not in thoughts
or emotions Lillian could understand, but more power washed outward from the
tree. A soothing flow of magic took away the throb of burns, the ache of cuts,
and the thousand tiny abuses of a battered body. It did nothing for her
emotional stress.

Gryton was gone, out of her reach—she didn’t know
where. Yet, she doubted it was back to the Magic Realm. The hamadryad had
alluded to needing him. So she’d probably stashed him somewhere out of the way.

The Spirit Realm would have been nice.

Lillian sighed and calmed her thoughts. Raging about
an escaped enemy would do nothing to aid the survivors.

Immediate danger past, or at least out of her reach,
she turned and took in the damage, her heart in her throat.

Gregory was an unmoving lump, and her father was cold
stone. The fluctuating waves of power coming from her hamadryad prevented
Lillian from sensing anything else.

Conflicted, Lillian turned a slow circle, stretching
her magic and senses in an attempt to see if they still lived.

The lump of roots shifted, and Gregory fought his way
onto his forearms, his ears shifting this way and that as he searched for her.

Relief and adrenaline spurred her into running. She
skidded to a stop next to him as he fought to free himself from the hamadryad’s
roots.

“Lillian?”

He turned his head and sniffed.

“Shhh, I’m here. We won.” Then she saw the blood
seeping from under his closed lids. By the Goddess, he was blinded. “Oh, my
poor love.” She reached for his face, but there were so many wounds she didn’t
know where to touch him without causing more pain. She settled for stroking his
horns.

“I will heal.” He brushed his muzzle along her arm,
leaving a streak of blood behind. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she said in a rush, “I was, but it was not as
bad as you, and my hamadryad already healed me.”

“I owe her my life.”

“The tattoo almost killed you. I’m so sorry.”

“It was my choice. Not your fault.” Gregory tried to
get his feet under him, but the roots still held him locked in their embrace.
He slumped back and rolled onto his side. “Perhaps I will rest here a little
while longer.”

“Why haven’t you turned to stone to heal?”

He nuzzled her hand and licked at her fingers. “The
Sorceress is still healing me. I know my wounds look fierce, and they are, but
she is healing them far more quickly than I could during my stone sleep.”

“If you say so.”

“She’s healing me from the inside and then working her
way outwards.” Gregory sighed and then allowed his head to rest on the ground.
“It will be some hours yet before I am healed enough to leave under my own
power. You’ll have to stay here. I see the tattoos are still in evidence.”

“Of course I’m staying. I would even if the tattoo
didn’t make it a requirement.” Lillian huffed angrily and then laid down next
to Gregory. She might have offered to go aid the other survivors, but no one
else was near enough to satisfy the tattoo’s need for closeness.

From her position next to Gregory, she watched as more
soldiers and Fae made their way out of the maze and into the meadow. They
scanned the area for signs of danger, and then slowly approached the
survivors—though the humans were as uncertain of what help they could be as
Lillian herself was.

Every survivor was covered in masses of fibrous roots,
being healed by the hamadryad.

Corporal Mackenzie and Shadowlight were patrolling
between River and Darkness. River was still alive, Lillian could hear her slow
heartbeat and see the slight rise and fall of her breast with each breath.

Darkness was slumped on the grass, still a cold,
unmoving statue. However, the fine mesh of roots growing over his stone skin
gave Lillian hope he might awake again one day. She doubted her hamadryad would
otherwise be lavishing attention on him. Shadowlight must have seen Gregory
stirring, for he abandoned his parents to come over to Gregory and Lillian.

Her little brother sniffed Gregory over and gave a
little whine, but he didn’t say anything aloud. However, his eyes asked a great
pleading question.

“Gregory,” she asked, not really wanting to give him
something else to worry or feel guilty over, but both she and Shadowlight
needed to know. “Can our father heal from what Gryton did to him?”

“Gryton is more formidable than I had….expected. But
Darkness is old and powerful, too. All gargoyles have a choice when they are
mortally injured. Return to the Lord of the Underworld in spirit form and then
be reborn, or sleep the stone sleep. I am sorry. Either way will take him out
of your lives for many years. He is stone, so he chose to stay with his family.
Even if he cannot be a flesh and blood father to either of you at the moment,
he is here in spirit. Your father loves you both very much.”

“Mother said the same thing,” Shadowlight confessed,
“but I wasn’t sure if I could believe her. I thought she lied to spare my
feelings.”

“In this she spoke the truth.” Gregory answered.

Lillian continued to sit and guard her beloved long
after Shadowlight had returned to his pacing between River and Darkness.

Gran arrived at some point in the company of yet more
soldiers. She recognized Major Resnick. If there were more brass with him, she
didn’t recognize them.

Resnick and Gran worked to keep the peace and
coordinate the two different factions. By some miracle, and maybe it was divine
intervention, the Fae and the humans held to the earlier alliance. It may have
helped that the hamadryad was healing both human and Fae survivors, showing no
preference between the two.