Scion of the Sorceress (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 8), page 1
Scion of the Sorceress
Gargoyle & Sorceress Tales
Book 8
Lisa Blackwood
Copyright
Scion of the Sorceress © 2019 by Lisa Smeaton
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and characters are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any print or electronic form without the author's permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Scion of the Sorceress
Chapter 1
Gryton
Tapping one talon-tipped finger against his thigh in boredom, Commander Gryton allowed his gaze to slide along the perimeter of his small, clear-sided cell again. Not that there was anything new worth seeing. The spartan area was intentionally devoid of everything that could be turned into a weapon. With a disgruntled sigh, he settled on the narrow pallet that served as a bed.
His captors didn’t trust the Avatars’ word that he was now an ally. Not yet. Perhaps the humans never would fully trust any of the magic wielders, especially him. He gave a mental nod regarding that bit of wisdom. Trust was something too easily betrayed. He fingered the raised skin around his neck, rubbing at the tattooed collar encircling his throat.
And hadn’t he gone to great lengths to gain the Battle Goddess’s trust only to betray her within weeks of meeting his birth mother? With a grunt, he adjusted his position and braced his back against the wall.
As it was prone to do, the garment pulled tight around his neck, pressing against the tattooed slave collar and reminding him of its existence for the hundredth time that day. After a few angry jerks to settle the shirt back into place, he crossed his arms over his chest and glanced down, his frown deepening.
The outfit they had forced him to don after his gargoyle sire had stripped him of his natural protective armor left much to be desired. The dull grey fabric of the ‘t-shirt’ was the blandest tone he’d ever laid eyes on.
And the lower half of the garment?
He shuddered.
The muddy mix of greens reminded him of blight crawling up a doomed tree’s trunk. The design was to help a warrior hide in a forest’s underbrush. And was he in a forest? No.
Though he’d much rather be hiding in the woods, he reflected, than in his present location.
Even mortal servants back in the Battle Goddess’s kingdom possessed better attire and lodgings. As for himself, when he wasn’t covered in his natural plate armor, he’d worn the finest fabrics. The Lady of Battles had liked to remind her subjects they weren’t savages, that living under her rule had many benefits.
He snorted. Not that the benefits outweighed the many life-threatening drawbacks, but if he’d been forced to tell the truth, he’d have to admit that he’d grown to like the luxurious velvets, smooth silks, and the finest of leatherwork.
He’d even admired the expert craftmanship needed to master each bit of gold and silver embroidery and intricate beadwork. His own nature was so chaotic and destructive, the intricate patterns woven into the various fabrics appealed to him on some level he’d never allowed himself to dwell on too long.
Yes, he admitted, more than a bit vain of me.
But there was a pleasure in having one’s outward appearance match the elegance of a disciplined mind and body. And being able to wear such items had been a personal benchmark that he was in control. Mastery over his elemental fire had been a long and bitter fight. In his youth, it had been a battle just to maintain this body. He couldn’t count how many times his power had overwhelmed him, and he’d burned everything around him to ash.
As he glanced down at himself again, his mood darkened further.
He’d betrayed all that discipline. Everything that he’d worked for gone. He’d thrown away the hard-earned respect of the warriors serving under him when he’d agreed to become his mother’s apprentice.
And for what?
Grimacing, he admitted he’d envisioned himself working with his sire and dam in a partnership. Instead, he found himself locked in a box two paces in width.
While the last four days hadn’t been what he’d intended, that didn’t mean he’d always be in this box. He would behave and prove to his parents he was trustworthy. He’d prove it to the humans if that were the only way to escape this box. After he was free, and they defeated the Battle Goddess, he could strike out on his own. The Magic Realm spanned many worlds. He could find a new lair.
He’d barely finished that thought when the sleeping pallet shifted under him, his braced weight shoving it farther from the wall. The back of his skull smacked against the transparent barrier behind him. Cursing, he braced his hands against the floor to prevent himself from sliding farther.
The last thing his ego needed was for him to end up sprawled in an undignified heap.
Grunting, he admitted even the sleeping pallets of the Mortal Realm conspired against him.
And predictably, his infernal ‘t-shirt’ chose that time to strangle him again.
Cursing, he leaped up from the ground and kicked the pallet back in place while simultaneously tearing the shirt from his body. Slinging it against the wall with every bit of disdain he could summon was mildly satisfying.
“That performance deserves a few bills tucked into the waist of a pair of ass-hugging leather pants,” said a female voice possessing a rich, almost husky tone.
The female guard. How had he forgotten about her?
While he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, by her tone, he knew it was derogatory.
“Did your superiors forget to warn you not to talk to me?” he questioned without turning to face her. “I might steal and eat your soul, Mortal.”
“It was probably covered in the stack of reports they handed out as they were briefing me, but they rushed me here so fast, no one gave me a chance to finish reading even the first page.”
She’d been specially selected to be his guard? His eyes narrowed. Perhaps she wasn’t human at all?
No. Impossible. He’d have sensed it if she was a magic wielder. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. From the first day, he’d thought it odd and vaguely insulting that they’d only assigned a single guard to him. When the human was off duty, it was always the leshii Greenborrow who took her place.
“Don’t get me wrong,” the female began, “They briefed me on some of what has been going on here. Thought it was bullshit. Ten minutes after I disembarked from the transport, I found myself facing your gargoyle father. Just about jumped out of my skin the first time he materialized out of thin air. Got another swift briefing and was rushed here. But after watching your sullen ass for the last four days, I’m pretty sure you aren’t in any position to be eating souls.”
His back stiffened as a growl formed in his throat. “I was the Commander of the Battle Goddess’s army. Do you know what that—”
“Do I know that you just lost a fight with a t-shirt? Yes. You’re scary as hell.” Sarcasm dripped off the last words.
He tilted his head in the voice's direction but resisted the urge to look over his shoulder at the speaker. He wouldn’t give her that power over him. “You are a mortal, ignorant as all your kind.”
“T-shirt one; evil incarnate none.”
It shouldn’t have been possible, but his mood soured even more. So much so, his expression might almost match what was usually on the female’s face. Against his will, and his better judgment, he turned toward her.
A tall, stocky figure with wide shoulders, a broad chest, thick waist, and muscular hips and thighs stood half in shadow outside the ring of light cast by the fixture hanging over Gryton’s cell. The first time he’d seen the soldier, he’d mistaken her for a male.
In his defense, without his magic and no breeze to carry her scent to him, he’d only had his eyesight to go by, and at the time she’d been covered head to toe in the strange gear the soldiers of this world wore into battle. The helmet, chin strap, and eye protection had covered much of her face, leaving only broad cheekbones, a prominent nose, and square chin to guess a gender.
It wasn’t until the second day when she’d returned without a helmet and wearing somewhat less gear, that he’d realized his mistake. That error bothered him more than a little. He prided himself on always knowing everything about his surroundings, documenting every little detail for future use and to prevent surprises. He hated surprises. Nothing good ever came from them.
Though he soothed himself with the knowledge mistaking her gender had been an honest mistake.
In her bulky uniform, the flat-chested female with short-cropped reddish-brown hair looked manly enough at a glance. Her hawkish nose and prominent brow didn’t aid her cause. In truth, she projected an aura of brute strength and assurance. There was very little delicacy or refinement to any part of her body.
In short, while not the ugliest female he’d ever seen, she certainly was no succubus.
He caught her gaze and glowered. She only gave his naked chest a once over and smirked.
“You’re a nice looking one. Bet I could bounce a quarter off that ass. And those abs… Shame you’re also an evil little prick.”
Her words added another layer of insult to his situation. Back in the Lady of Battles’ Kingdom, no one had dared speak to him in such a way, but this female talked down to him as if he was some lowborn warrior she could summon to her sleeping roll.
“Step inside.” Gryton flashed her a smile that displayed his fangs as he gestured toward the locking mechanism on his cage door. “Get a closer look. Perhaps that can help you decide.”
“Not born yesterday, Hot Stuff.” Her honest laughter possessed a rich, deep tone, and her merriment transformed her features. He realized she had attractive eyes full of mirth and a smile so genuine that it almost called forth an answering one in him. That only infuriated him more.
Scowling at her, he reminded himself that while he may have defected from the Battle Goddess’s army because of his mother, that in no way made him an ally to the humans. Certainly not this human. She was nothing to him, unworthy of his notice. Unless she continued to annoy him. In which case, he’d see what he could do to assure she didn’t live long enough to become a thorn in his side.
He dismissed her.
“Aw. Someone is butthurt over—”
Suddenly, the human soldier snapped her mouth closed and came to attention.
He realized he could hear footsteps approaching. He turned his back on the female and crossed his arms over his chest while he waited for the newcomers to arrive. By the sound of the softly clicking talons, he imagined one of them was his father.
Nothing good ever came from facing the male half of the Avatars.
Chapter 2
Gryton
He didn’t have long to wait for the Avatars. His sire and dam soon arrived with a unit of soldiers at their heels. Predictably, the male half of the Avatars was in the lead, not trusting Gryton even collared and caged as he was.
He grinned at his father. Gryton wouldn’t trust himself either. His father was wise enough to realize that.
“Ah, what a delight. My sire and dam have come for a visit.” He cast a glance over his shoulder toward the female soldier, directing his words at her. “Or, in my father’s case, to glower while my mother visits me.”
The soldier didn’t respond. In fact, she stood so still and straight she resembled a statue. Ah, how sad. No distractions from that direction. With a sigh, he turned his full attention back to his parents.
They likely planned to speak of the same things they had for the last four days. Since the first day he’d come to this realm under armed escort, they had visited him once a day to update him on his situation, telling him what they’d been doing to smooth over their alliance with the humans.
And, as much as he hated to admit it, he looked forward to these few short times with his mother even if they merely spoke of unimportant things concerning the humans.
Lillian, when she’d only been a dryad-gargoyle hybrid, hadn’t trusted him. But she was now the Sorceress as she was meant to be and could look inside, straight to his soul it seemed, and see all that had happened to him. She knew the reasons he’d become what he was. And, as miraculous as it seemed to him, she still loved him despite his alliance with their greatest enemy.
A year ago, Gryton wouldn’t have thought he’d have fallen so far, but now he admitted he basked in the Sorceress’s love for him. Yes, he eagerly awaited each visit, weakness though it was.
Then there was his father.
That was another complicated relationship he hadn’t yet figured out how to navigate.
Usually, Gregory looked at him like a problem he very much wished didn’t exist. Yet on the few occasions when the older male had been examining Gryton’s power, the male half of the Avatars had allowed him to peer into that ancient mind.
To Gryton’s great surprise, he’d sensed his father’s awe. And if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a little pride mixed in with the other less-than-pleasant emotions Gregory experienced when he looked upon his son.
Oh, his sire felt shame, disquiet, and more than a little concern in having betrayed his vows and his honor by producing a son with his Sorceress. Yet there was more than that. Gryton’s very survival, his mastery over his chaotic elemental magic, had impressed his father. And that Gryton had flourished in the Battle Goddess’s kingdom and exerted control over the rest of the dark army? That had impressed his father more than a little.
Knowing how Gregory viewed him made it harder for Gryton to maintain a proper amount of hatred for his father.
Of course, neither of them would show even a hint of their growing regard for the other. They were still more enemies than allies. It was just how it had to be.
That would only change if they freed him from this cage and allowed him a chance to find a place at their side. If not as an equal, then at least as an honored apprentice.
“We have convinced the human authorities that you will be a far better asset than an enemy.” The Sorceress said, studying him in a way that suddenly had him feeling defensive. “We’ve made it clear to them we won’t harm our son or allow harm to come to you. We even laid out the dangers if they tried to kill you. Not that they have the power. But we made it very clear that if you somehow die here on Earth, you’ll be reborn as a sun.”
“That went over well,” Gregory said dryly.
His mother gave her other half a hard stare before she returned her gaze to Gryton. “No one wants to see that happen, and we were able to bargain with the humans. This deal will allow all sides of Light’s alliance to work together. Part of the bargain is that after we’ve won the war with the Lady of Battles, we will take you back to the Magic Realm with us and you will never return to Earth.”
Gladly. How soon can we leave? Gryton thought with a touch of rare humor.
“But while we live here, you will cooperate with the humans and allow their scientists to study you.”
And just that quickly, his earlier humor was snuffed out. He’d hoped to have minimal dealings with the non-magic wielders of this world. But this wouldn’t be the first time things hadn’t gone his way. If he had to, he’d learn to ignore the humans and go about his duties as required. Control was something he’d learned at an early age.
“You aren’t free to roam.” His mother’s expression turned guarded.
Gryton stood a little straighter.
When she cleared her throat as a distraction, he knew he wouldn’t like the rest. “You won’t go anywhere alone. You will obey your keeper’s commands without question.”
“Keepers?” Gryton questioned with an arched brow. Though, he’d expected as much. He’d killed several humans the first time he’d come to the Mortal Realm. The humans wouldn’t have forgiven or forgotten.
As for punishments, there were far worse things than ‘keepers’ trailing him around.
Perhaps this wouldn’t be as bad as he’d expected. He might even earn back his freedom sooner than he’d thought.
“Keeper. Single. There will just be the one,” Gregory clarified and then glanced between Lillian and Gryton, his lips curling back with gargoyle humor. “You tell him the rest. He likes you better.”
“Not for long,” his mother muttered half under her breath.
Tension grew between Gryton’s shoulder blades the longer his mother took to continue.
