A Dragon, a Gargoyle, and a Faery Steal the Show, page 7
Niall was shaking his head even as Aiden spoke. “I saw him go down the stairs and head out of the castle, he can’t be in here.”
Loch held up a finger and walked between the shelves, looking down each way, and verified they were alone in the library.
“Maybe you just had one too many whiskeys,” he offered, and Aiden looked at him with an unimpressed look, but Loch grinned and shrugged. “It could happen.”
“Let’s go back to The Hog Tying of James Finnley,” the dragon said, and Loch knew he had intentionally messed up the name when Aiden gave him a wink.
“Jeremy Fischer,” Flynn corrected as he opened the next note, this one in his own handwriting. “Lily log. Midnight.”
“Lily log,” the gargoyles all breathed the words with nostalgic reverence, their eyes lighting up.
“Let’s go!” Loch said gleefully, ignoring Aiden’s flinch.
“Yes!” Patrick and Niall said at the same time.
Flynn laughed like a schoolboy as he and Loch moved to a set of double doors down the way. Loch unlocked them and pushed them open to reveal a long stone balcony and then he promptly started to strip down. Aiden raised a brow.
“It’s tradition,” Loch coaxed. “I know you understand the importance of such things.”
He knew his grin would soften up the auld boy. Or at least Aiden would pretend he wasn’t as eager as the rest to let the wings free for a minute. Aiden finally sighed and started removing his shoes. Loch grinned and stepped onto the balcony, clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and shifted. Flynn, Patrick, and Niall followed suit. They all leaped onto the balcony wall, spread their wings, hung in the balance for a long moment, and then shoved off.
All of them stayed low enough to avoid setting off any wards or magical scariness. After a few minutes, Loch looked behind him, wondering where Aiden was. If that gobshite had dipped out on them…then he saw a blue flash, and Aiden sped past them with a whoop and a taunting challenge.
Niall made a comment about Aidan’s form, and Loch realized that these boys had never seen a dragon up close. He hollered as much to Aiden, who obliged and took a rare moment to show off a couple of aerial antics before breathing a stream of fire into the sky above them, damn the potential magical scariness. They were lucky. No magical wards swallowed them whole so they all had a good if slightly nervous chuckle.
Flynn took the lead while Loch stayed close to Aiden. The joy of the flight permeated the air space, and Loch gave a growled whoop, earning him a chuckle and a stream of heated smoke from his friend. Panthéa, it was a good night to be alive.
Something large rushed by. Loch heard a muffled thud and a grunt from Aiden’s vicinity, and then the dragon was no longer there. Loch swung around, his wings working as he looked for the dragon. Large shapes blotted out the stars to his left, and he sped toward them like a stone missile.
“Here, dragon, dragon!” the voice of Marcus taunted, another of Declan’s hangers-on, making Loch see bright red.
Aiden was doing a magnificent job of not getting riled up, but Loch wished he would just flame-throw them. Next best thing was a good old fashioned head-butt, and the gargoyle rammed into the nearest assailant. A screech of pain echoed in the darkness. Then Flynn was there, wrestling another faceless attacker. By the muttered threats, Loch figured it was Alan. All of the worst of the gargoyles were crawling out of the woodwork, and it was making Loch very cranky. This was not making a good impression.
He grabbed a wing and twisted, following as the other gargoyle frantically flapped with his other wing to keep himself aloft. Patrick swooped in from the other side and bashed into the annoying gargoyle while Niall was chasing another. These eejits seemed to have forgotten that dragons were very big, and when Aiden unleashed a stream of fire into the sky, they backed off. The liquid flame followed them, not close enough to do any damage but enough to convince them to get lost.
“Are you alright?” Loch called out to Aiden.
“I’m fine,” the dragon said, and Loch thought he detected a hint of satisfied gratification and smiled to himself. Nothing like winning a good brawl to get the blood pumping and improve the spirits.
“Let’s get out of here and make sure none of those poxes are tailing us.”
They flew on until they were about a mile north of the Castle.
“Have we lost them?” Niall asked.
Loch did a quick search of the skies and gave his friend an all-clear. A moment later, Flynn, followed closely by Patrick, disappeared into a copse of gray-green trees, lit by gently glowing butterfly faeries. Loch knew they had a species name, but it was unpronounceable to him so butterfly faeries they were. Loch, Niall and Aiden followed behind just as the moon came out from behind a cloud.
As Loch landed gently on the soft ground, the leaves and moss squished in his toes. He glanced at Aiden who landed beside him and waited for the dragon to take it in. This was one of Loch’s favorite places. An ancient tree, don’t ask him the type, that was Claudine’s department, had fallen centuries ago. Due to good luck or maybe the magic in the area, the trunk was still sturdy and whole.
Loch, Flynn, and the others had been coming here for ages to hang out and enjoy the silence of the forest. A brook bubbled nearby, and the heady scent of foliage was crisp in the coming night air.
The thing that turned this spot from enchanted to magical was the glow worms. Right now, as the day turned from light to dark, the trees surrounding them ignited with a soft glow.
Loch sat in full gargoyle form on the tree trunk next to Flynn. Aiden, in dragon form, curled onto the soft moss before them and was joined by Niall and Patrick. Niall seemed to be in awe of the dragon’s form. Loch kept it to himself, but Aiden’s dragon, all shiny blue scales and sharp edges, was impressive.
Something about this spot emptied your mind of worries, troubles, and misgivings. Their conversation was warm, filled with light banter and the retelling of fond memories from their younger student days. They took turns filling the others in on what had happened in their lives since they last had spoken, and they talked of deeper things, challenges, dreams, and where they thought the world was headed.
Aiden soaked it up, and Loch knew he was listening by the faint twitch of his long ears, even though the dragon’s eyes were closed, and he looked like he had dozed off. He chimed in here and there, sometimes with agreement, sometimes with a different perspective on the gargoyles' views, which left them all with a more nuanced appreciation of things. It was a beautiful glimpse into a world that could have been, and perhaps one day could still be. Loch wasn’t sure how much time had passed but he snapped to and realized it was time to end off for the day. A better ending he could not have imagined.
With a single nod they took to the air and made for the castle library. Loch landed on the balcony and stepped into the room. As the others came in behind him, Clayton Hewson sat up in a high backed chair.
“Ah, there you are.”
Loch frowned. Well, there went the perfect ending to an evening.
Chapter 9 - Aiden
For Old Times Sake
Friday, 8 July 2022, 1:02 AM
(Gargoyle Queen’s Castle, somewhere on the West Coast of Ireland)
Still bathed in the beautiful stillness of the Lily Log glade, Aiden remained on the balcony in full dragon form and noted the newcomer with only a calm, mild interest. He watched Torloch and the others react to the person’s appearance and wondered who he was. From Torloch’s expression, he wasn’t welcome. Not quite as unwelcome as Declan, but a close second. Maybe he was who I thought was watching in the library earlier, Aiden thought.
“Clayton,” Fynn said, his voice even and not exactly hostile, but not friendly either. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t I come say hello to my old friends?” the gargoyle said.
Aiden felt as though he had picked up a book series by flipping to a random page in book three and had no idea who the characters were, what was happening, or why anyone was doing what they were doing. Clayton was eyeing him with interest, and now Aiden felt as though he were a bug under a microscope.
“I’ve never been this close to a shifted dragon,” the gargoyle said and rose from the chair. “You’re not as scary as our childhood tales would have you believe.”
“Shut up, Clayton,” Flynn said. “It’s late, we’re tired. We just want to get to bed.”
“I’m not stopping you,” Clayton said with a sly smile, gesturing for them to go.
Aiden wasn’t particularly prudish, but he had no desire to shift back in front of the newcomer.
Torloch stepped forward. “What do you want?”
“I’ve come to warn you.”
The gargoyle’s eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”
“Some people aren’t as enchanted to have a dragon here as you are, Loch old boy,” Clayton said. “For old time's sake, I just wanted to tell you to watch your back. You don’t want to be caught off guard.”
“For old times’ sake, you can go-” Torloch started and was pulled back by Aiden.
“Thank you for the warning,” the dragon said with a polite nod at the intruder.
Clayton waited for something more but then nodded and strolled out of the library. Once they were sure he had gone, they shifted back and dressed again.
“Who was he?” Aiden said as he pulled his shirt over his head. “And what did he mean by for old times’ sake?”
“He used to be part of our group,” Flynn said when Torloch remained silent. “Then he started hanging with Declan’s crew, and we sort of drifted apart.”
Aiden sighed, pulling on his jumper. “Any more childhood enemies I should be warned about?”
Torloch snorted. “He’s just being a gobshite, ignore him.”
“I am ignoring him,” the dragon said. “But you’re not.”
“I would be if you had just let me clobber him,” Torloch replied.
“Let’s go see if there’s any leftovers,” Flynn suggested.
“You know, I can tell when you’re trying to distract me,” Torloch said, then grinned. “It’s a good thing I like being distracted by food.”
“Among other things,” Flynn said, and Torloch shoved him as he walked by.
They scavenged a good load from the kitchens, and Loch and Aiden brought the fixings for sandwiches back to Cranberry Cottage, crashing into bed at around two in the morning, exhausted but with full stomachs. The next day started early, but a strong cup of coffee and a mild adrenaline surge had Aiden as fresh and alert as though he had a full night's sleep. Torloch was a little slower to come around, but as they made their way down to the field, the gargoyle perked up.
“You know, Niall wasn’t wrong when he said the aerial MMA was the best event,” he said. “But don’t tell him I said that.”
“I won’t,” Aiden promised. “But it sounds like all the events are your favorite.”
Torloch laughed. “They did put together a pretty fantastic line-up for your first coronation.”
They found the others and found their seats. The speaker crackled to life, and the announcer's voice came over the speakers, with a “testing, testing, one, two, one two three”. According to the itinerary, it was Michael Byrne, and he sounded quite a bit younger than the other guy from the day before.
“Ladies and gentlemen, hold on to your hats; it’s time for lift-off!”
Aiden was startled when the seat under him vibrated and started to move, but he quickly relaxed when he saw the whole set of seats were being raised into the air. The crowd was cheering and whooping as if they were on a roller coaster. A couple of people at the very back stood on the edges of their seats, balancing as they rose, and a few of them fell off, having to shift to avoid a messy landing. Hopefully, they weren’t too attached to the outfits they were wearing.
“Now that you’re high as a kite allow me to introduce your combatants!”
Torloch laughed. “He thinks he’s commentating on the gladiators in Rome or something.”
The thirty-two contestants shifted and rose into the air as their name was called, spinning and waving their arms to encourage the cheering. Aiden recognized the Ryan triplets from the previous day but not many more names. It was a double-elimination game, and the contestants were paired up. The punches, chops, kicks, and spins were like a violent ballet. The arena was so crowded that sometimes a punch meant for one person landed on an entirely different person, and at least four people were knocked out by people other than their opponents.
“So, do they get penalized for that, or do they get double points?” Aiden wondered out loud.
“Standard points for a hit,” Flynn said without moving his eyes from the combatants, as Patrick and Niall were too caught up to answer.
When the numbers had whittled down from sixteen to eight to four, the crowd got quieter and quieter as they followed each move. Even the commentator occasionally forgot his job and only remembered what he was supposed to do when a particularly spectacular hit landed, drawing a collective gasp from the audience.
“Oh, did you see that? That’s going to leave a mark,” he said, as the echoes of a particularly spectacular scissors kick breaking a few ribs faded.
The gargoyle in question was helped off the arena by two medics, and his opponent moved to the final round.
“Cathal Brennan and Enda Maguire remain, and only one will come off the field a victor,” the commentator said. “They’ve both been fighting for over an hour and a half now. Will that make this a short match, or will they both get a second wind?”
Cathal and Enda both seemed to catch a second wind, but that didn’t make the match longer. Enda barreled into Cathal’s midsection, sending him spinning away, but he caught himself with a wrench of both wings and whipped around, his tail smacking Enda in the face. While the gargoyle was wiping his stinging eyes, Cathal caught him in a chokehold, wrapping his legs around him like a vice.
Enda tucked his wings in and dropped like a stone, pulling Cathal with him. The pair tumbled around and around as they fell. Before his head disappeared below the stands, Enda’s wings came up, and he tore himself out of Cathal’s grip, shooting skyward.
The other continued to fall for another second before he got his wings working, but his head disappeared. Everyone was on their feet, stomping and yelling, and Enda waved and bowed.
“What happened?” Aiden asked, bewildered.
“You’re not allowed to go below that line,” Niall shouted as he was jumping up and down and pumping his fists. “Cathal got himself disqualified!”
Flynn explained further as the seats were lowered. “The maneuver is really difficult and is as likely to get you out as it is to win you the game,” he told the dragon. “If you time it wrong, your momentum will carry you outside the line, instead of your opponent.”
They made their way out of the stands with the crowds of gargoyles, reliving the last moves of the match with bright eyes and energetic gestures. In the hour between games, they got coffee and found a nice sunny wall to balance on and jump over and do things other than just sitting on their arses. Gargoyles wandered over, occasionally offering a welcome and a comment on the weather, and when they noticed a stream of people heading for the field, they took that as their cue to do the same. As they made their way to the stands for the second game, Aiden spotted where the Doyles were sitting.
“I’m going to go spend the next game with your family,” the dragon told Torloch.
Sensing the dragon needed some peace but also that he didn’t want to dip out on the upcoming game, the gargoyle waved him away.
“Go on. I’ll come around later,” he grinned. “Or maybe I won’t.”
Aiden made his way through the seats where the Doyles sat. Groelse, the short, bulky bog faery and Máire’s husband, sat beside her, and he offered Aiden a grave nod as the dragon came up. Nicholas and Benjamin were on either side of them. The boys had colored stripes painted on their cheeks, big bags of popcorn and candy floss in their laps and looked to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.
“Aiden, love!” Taillte said, beaming at him. “You’re joining us?”
“Hello, Doyle Family,” the dragon said cheerfully and settled in the open seat between Séan and Róis. “Yes, if you’ll have me.”
“Of course!” Taillte said. “Are you having a good time? Is Torloch looking after you?”
“I think he looks after his cat and rabbits slightly more, but I’m doing alright,” Aiden told her.
“Where is Torloch?” Róis asked. She wore a delicate yellow sundress with giant sunflowers patterned over the skirt. It reminded Aiden of Claudine, and he wondered what the green witch was doing.
“Aiden?” Róis prompted.
“Ah, sorry, my mind went somewhere else. He’s coming a bit later,” Aiden said, hoping the gargoyle didn’t make a liar out of him.
“Well, we’re glad you’ve decided to join us,” Caitríona said.
It looked like Úna had managed to find herself a man, though the gargoyle she was with looked a little uncomfortable when Aiden turned his attention to him. He was a handsome fellow with brown hair and green eyes, and a scar on his jaw.
“Aiden, this is Frank McFinn.”
“Ah, how do you do, Frank?” Aiden said. “Any relation to the commentator from yesterday?”
Both Frank and Úna were surprised.
“Yes,” Frank said with an impressed look. “He’s my uncle.”
“I read the Schedule of Events each morning,” the dragon confessed. “Just so I don’t get lost.”
They got a chuckle out of that.
“How are you finding the coronation so far?” Frank asked, in that chatty, small-talk way when someone isn’t sure what to say. “All as expected?”
“Better than expected, I would say. It’s really lovely,” Aiden told him. “The Castle is truly magnificent, and everyone works so hard to put on an incredible event. It’s very impressive. I’m fortunate to know Torloch and his family well and that they invited me along.”
