A Dragon, a Gargoyle, and a Faery Steal the Show, page 1
Copyright © 2024 by Nicole DragonBeck and Lisa Barry All rights reserved.
FIRST EDITION.
A Dragon, a Gargoyle, and a Faery Steal the Show, a Dragon and Gargoyle story, is a fictional work. The characters, places and events portrayed in this book are from the imagination of the author or are used fictitiously. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for the author or any third party websites or publications or their content.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews or as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
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Book Cover designed by Nicole DragonBeck
Witching Hour Publishing, Inc.
eBook ISBN: 978-1-943121-87-8
Print ISBN: 978-1-943121-88-5
Disclaimer
This book was written by two half-Australians (no that doesn’t make one full Australian) so we have Commonwealth bits and pieces of knowledge, plus Google. It is highly likely that we bungled up something in this book about Ireland, any surrounding areas and probably the U.S.A. too. Please excuse any issues you see and if you must report it, send your comments to the Keepers of the Peace, Complaints Division: reports@dragonandgargoyle.com. Thank you, enjoy!
Contents
1. Chapter 1 - Aiden
Never the Twain Shall Meet
2. Chapter 2 - Loch
Loads of Lovely Ladies
3. Chapter 3 - Aiden
Leviathans and Volcanos
4. Chapter 4 - Loch
Might Have Ruffled Some Feathers
5. Chapter 5 - Aiden
Whatcha Got, Dragon?
6. Chapter 6 - Loch
No More Work!
7. Chapter 7 - Aiden
Still Lying, Brother Dear
8. Chapter 8 - Loch
Fecking Eejit
9. Chapter 9 - Aiden
For Old Times Sake
10. Chapter 10 - Loch
Still No
11. Chapter 11 - Aiden
The Song of the Elusive Blue-Breasted Silver Beak
12. Chapter 12 - Loch
Temptation to Gut Punch
13. Chapter 13 - Aiden
I Get A Phone Call, Right?
14. Chapter 14 - Arthur Warren
Beggars Can’t Be Choosers
15. Chapter 15 - Loch
We’re Fighting A Ghost!
16. Chapter 16 - Aiden
We Need Her Skills
17. Chapter 17 - Loch
Hiding the Elf-Eater
18. Chapter 18 - Aiden
I Might Send Out For A Second Opinion
19. Chapter 19 - Loch
Dude, I’m Stone
20. Chapter 20 - Aiden
Where Did You Find This Eejit?
21. Chapter 21 - Loch
Don’t Take The Bait
22. Chapter 22 - Aiden
I Hope You Like Egg Salad
23. Chapter 23 - Loch
The Very Best on the Case
24. Chapter 24 - Aiden
Join the Club
25. Chapter 25 - Loch
Did He Forget To Lock It Again?
26. Chapter 26 - Aiden
You’re Not Allowed To Touch My Headstone
27. Chapter 27 - Loch
Tough Crowd
28. Chapter 28 - Aiden
The Nature Of Dragons
29. Chapter 29 - Loch
Lord Scalypants
30. Chapter 30 - Aiden
Celebration and Cultural Enrichment
31. Epilogue - Loch
It’s Sunday, We’re Relaxing
Need more Dragon and Gargoyle shenanigans?
Chapter 1 - Aiden
Never the Twain Shall Meet
Saturday, 9 July 2022, 3:39 PM
(Gargoyle Queen’s Castle, somewhere on the West Coast of Ireland)
Detective Aiden Moss sat in the crowd of gargoyles as they waited for their new queen to appear, a very strange circumstance for a dragon in the year 2022 to find himself in. He wondered how he would ever be able to tell his sister Calwyn about the experience in such a way that she understood it and how much she would laugh at him with sisterly affection for his discomfort.
The castle of the gargoyle queen - both her home and a place for all gargoyles to visit in order to pay their respects or simply enjoy the garden, the library, or the complimentary dining in a restaurant that even Aiden had to admit was a magnificent culinary experience - was now full to the brim with gargoyles and the delegations from the other Three Courts. The heads of state and their entourages had dressed in their best finery and presented themselves for the Games Awards and Closing Ceremonies and the Five Courts Grand Feast afterward, the last event of the coronation week.
Torloch had tried to explain multiple times, but to Aiden, as a dragon, the thought of a thousand people stamping around his home made him extremely ill at ease. The gargoyle just laughed at him. Dragons were solitary by nature, while gargoyles were more pack creatures, enjoying the company of others. Gregarious would be the word Aiden would use, but the gargoyle didn’t like when Aiden used big words, not because he didn’t understand them, but because he knew other people may not, and it sounded pretentious.
An honorary Doyle for the week, Aiden sat with Torloch’s family near the front, something to do with his da’s special station, but the dragon hadn’t really followed that development and hadn’t had a chance to ask what it all meant. He wore his best suit, a Perennial Lazio in a navy blue so dark it was practically black.
Braendon Doyle sat next to the dragon, resplendent in dark breeches, a waistcoat, and a coat with curving back fronts. The dark, figured velvet matched his regal expression and the high tilt of his chin. Torloch would have laughed at his younger brother, but Aiden thought he looked very suave, even though the dragon had chosen a more modern style of dress, which somehow felt less intrusive to the occasion.
Twelve-year-old Róis Doyle sat on his other side, her flaming red hair done up in a mass of curls entwined with flowers, her emerald green dress bringing out the green in her eyes. She tried to sit as regally as her older brother and Aiden but would often succumb to the urge to fidget and turn, drinking in every element of the ceremony with a huge smile.
On the stage before them, a massive yet simple and elegant throne of stone sat in the middle, flanked by the sigil of the newly crowned queen of the gargoyles - Queen Áine Lassar Ó Briain - and illuminated by a pale spotlight. A few gifts from those of her subjects chosen for the high honor of presenting them to the queen directly, along with the gifts from the heads of the other Three Courts, were neatly arranged in front of the throne on a long trestle table, the wooden legs ornately carved with trees and faces.
Three members of the new queen’s honor guard stood on one side of the stage, and the three placed winners of Games from each of the three preceding days stood at the ready on the other side with an extra Honorable Mention. Torloch had taken the position at the end, and the gargoyle flashed Aiden a quick thumbs-up when he noticed the dragon watching. Aiden replied with a tight smile and raised his eyebrows, not wanting to call too much attention to himself. He was already receiving more than he would like.
He could feel the eyes of the gargoyles around him and knew they were whispering about him even though they leaned away and covered their mouths. Several people in the back stood and craned over the crowd to catch a glimpse of the unusual guest, and Aiden had noticed a particular gentleman in a red velvet suit walk past three times, throwing glances his way. It had been a theme over the last three days, but here in the close confines of the hall, bodies packed in tightly, it was much worse. The first tremors of claustrophobia made Aiden suddenly itchy in the tight suit, and he found it harder to breathe.
“Are you alright?” Róis Doyle asked, her concern drawing the attention of Breandon Doyle on Aiden’s other side.
“I’m fine,” the dragon said. “Really.”
Neither gargoyle looked convinced, but they allowed him his little white lie. Aiden was immensely fond of Torloch, and the bond of friendship between them was one of the greatest of the dragon’s long life, but he swore he was never going to let Torloch talk him into something like this ever again. Dragons are dragons, and gargoyles are gargoyles, and never the twain shall meet, Aiden thought, and then felt guilty.
That contradicted the entire point of Rudyard Kipling’s great poem, The Ballad of East and West, and Aiden recited the following lines of the stanza to himself, finding the rhythm of the words soothing.
But there is neither East nor West,
Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face,
though they come from the ends of the earth!
The trumpets sounded, heralding the immediate start of the presentation of the coronation gifts. Then, the fanfare faltered, falling silent in an uncoordinated squawk. Everyone turned as the massive doo
For a moment, Aiden thought this was part of the show until he saw the confusion on the faces around him. The line of guards drew to a stop at the row where the Doyles sat and turned simultaneously with a resounding stomp, though the thick red carpet muted the thud of their boots.
“Aiden Moss, you’re under arrest,” a voice announced in a cold, stern tone.
Aiden blinked and tried to fit that into something that made sense of what was happening. He was usually the one speaking those words, and there was always a good reason for him to say them. No rhyme or reason came to mind for why it was now being directed at him, but the gargoyles in uniform surrounded him and pulled the members of the Doyle family away so they could lay hands on the dragon.
“On what charges?” Torloch shouted, somehow having moved down from the stage and shoving past the crowd to stand next to Aiden. “Hey, what are you doing?”
The entire room was in an uproar. All the guests in their finery were murmuring, straining for a look, and no longer attempting to be discreet. The gentleman in the red velvet suit watched with wide eyes, his hand covering his mouth. The cuffs went around Aiden’s wrist, and the magical dampening of his ability to shift closed around him, effectively trapping him in human form. Aiden’s claustrophobia sped into overdrive.
Sweat beaded his forehead, and he felt faint, fighting to breathe against the growing pressure against his chest. He swallowed and tried to concentrate on taking deep breaths. Torloch was saying something, but over the pounding of Aiden’s heart and the rushing in his ears, the words were a garbled mess to the dragon.
The gargoyle guards led him away, and with each step, Aiden tried to figure out how it had come to this…
Chapter 2 - Loch
Loads of Lovely Ladies
Tuesday, 5 July 2022, 3:49 PM
(KPOC Headquarters, Dublin)
…Four Days Prior…
“Istill cannot believe I agreed to this,” Aiden muttered as he put the final touches on the report for the Case of the Ghost in the Boot.
The dragon made sure the low tone was just loud enough for the gargoyle to hear.
“It will be more fun than you’ve had in ages,” Loch insisted as he quickly checked his desk drawers for anything that might be perishable.
He wouldn’t want to leave it to rot while they were gone the rest of the week. Wrinkling his nose at the thought, the gargoyle rummaged through the candy bars, crisps, a stapler, and other odds and ends. People might think he was a bit slobbish, but he did have some standards. He snatched up the ham and cheese croissant he had saved yesterday, took the brown paper off, and shoved half of it into his mouth. Nodding in appreciation, he closed the drawer and leaned back in his chair.
“I am not sure how much fun it is being de-scaled,” Aiden answered dryly as he hit send on the report before powering down his computer.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Loch snorted. “You know I would never allow that. Besides, that is so last century.”
The dragon raised a brow at his partner before standing and brushing imaginary lint from his pressed slacks. Standing and glancing around, Loch looked one last time for anything he might need for the trip. Seeing nothing of interest, he pulled his leather jacket from the back of his chair and slid it over his broad shoulders.
Aiden pressed his lips together and also glanced around the office, his gaze lingering a little longer on the desks and filing cabinets and much longer on his precious cork board, the colored pins lining the notes up in neat rows. Loch thought he was memorizing it so he could remember it and look forward to coming to the office while they were away. The gargoyle sighed and tapped his foot but couldn’t help the smile that stole across his face.
“What is that smirk for?” Aiden asked.
“Oh nothing, except thinking about you yearning for your desk more than a little dancing and fun. Oh, the things you give up to accompany a man about town, Detective.”
Aiden had the gall to laugh at him. Loch tapped his fingers on his desk and then strode toward the door, tired of waiting. The dragon would never leave unless dragged out, and Loch was more than happy to provide that service. “Let’s get out of here before Warren finds another case we need to solve before we leave.”
He laughed at Aiden’s feigned hopeful look, a look that broke into a grin as the dragon followed Loch out the door.
“It might be a nice break,” the dragon muttered, and Loch clamped a hand on Aiden’s shoulder.
“It’s going to be so much craic. Trust me. No one throws a party like a gargoyle!”
Back at House Beldoras, while Aiden disappeared into the kitchen to make something incredible for dinner, Loch gathered the little family of gnomes, who were responsible for the grounds and looked after the place when he went away, together for yet another lecture about the care and feeding of his little cutie pies. The bunnies would forage just fine on their own, but the kitty Elias was a little more particular, and Loch wanted him to get scritches too.
“His favorite place is behind the ears,” the gargoyle said, and the gnomes nodded dutifully, though Fianna kept looking at her little wristwatch with increasingly large sighs.
“Now, I know you’re all about the size of a mid-day snack for Elias, but he knows better than to eat you, and this is very important-” Loch continued his detailed instructions for the Maine Coon for the umpteenth time, adding a few things he was sure he had forgotten the other times.
Arnie, the head gnome, noting his wife's increasing impatience, finally bulged his eyes slightly and put a small hand on Loch’s knee. “Sir, they will be fine. Have we ever let you down before this?”
“No, you haven’t,” Loch said, but that didn’t stop him from being just a little worried about his babies.
“What about the large bird we’ve been seeing in the forest?” Gulliver asked.
The quiet son of Arnie and Fianna, he spent the most time in those woods and knew them like the back of his hand. Well, at least the part of it closest to the house. Those trees went back a lot farther than met the eye, and Loch was sure Fiana would not be happy to have her boy wandering around the deeper stretches.
“Oh, it’s fine, boy,” Arnie said gruffly. “He doesn’t need to be bothered with that.”
“But she’s big and scary, and she has talons as long as my leg,” Gulliver insisted.
“What kind of bird is this?” the gargoyle demanded, glaring at the young gnome with an intensity he didn’t deserve.
“Well, sir, it’s hard to say,” Gulliver said, blinking at the sudden interest. “It’s just a large black bird that’s been hanging out at the edge of the trees. It always disappears when I get too close, though.”
“And you don’t recognize the species?” Loch pressed. “Or note any particular features?” Like an ugly face or screaming beak? Does it throw things at you?
“I can never get a really good look at it,” Gulliver said after a moment of consideration. “It hides in the branches and flies away before I can get too close. But it always leaves the most awful stench behind.”
Gnomes had notoriously good senses, and it was little wonder they were highly sought after spies. And that was exactly what Loch wanted to hear.
“You have all the instructions on the bunnies and Elias?” he asked the whole group.
“Yes, sir, completely,” the gnomes all said quickly, with great reassurance.
