Perfect Misfits (12 page)

A pang settled in his heart causing him alarm.

She has to be okay. I have to make this trip and get back there…back to her.

Vision of their night together invaded his thoughts. Time seemed to stand still, but soon, he saw the other gargoyles in the distance, where they circled the city. Tall structures jutted up and into the sky. Not all of the towers and buildings were the same; some were crumbling, showing the effects of battles. He pulled the patch covering his eye up and swiped the empty socket.

One gargoyle had singled him out and was heading his direction.

Ashton.

Ryder stopped hovering in the air, waiting for his approach.

“Where have you been?” the young warrior asked.

“You couldn’t possibly imagine.” Ryder shook his head.

“I was beginning to worry. You haven’t been down to the Transportbar in two nights.”

“I realize that.”

“I thought you had fallen off a tower somewhere and perhaps met your demise.”

A smile crept over Ryder’s face. “Wishful thinking. But I can tell you that it is possible for a gargoyle to hit the ground.”

Ashton’s grey complexion paled to an eerie white. “That’s funny,” he stated, but waited for confirmation of what he must have been hoping was a joke.

“It’s the truth. But don’t worry; you won’t die if it ever happens.”

“I don’t think I’d like to find out,” Ashton shook his head.

Still hovering in the air, Ryder pointed in the direction of the city. “Follow me.”

He turned and dove towards the ground. Moments later, he stood on the massive roof of his home. Ashton landed beside him.

Ryder looked over the edge to where he’d fallen not so long ago. The hole in the ground bore witness to the fact it really had happened.

“Ashton, did you pay a visit to Astral?”

The younger gargoyle swore beneath his breath and shook his head. “Yes, I did.”

“And…?”

“She spoke in riddles. I asked her about snow-covered mountains and if she’d heard of anything or seen anything like that on Levare. She wandered about like I wasn’t even there, but then got this evil smirk on her face and said, ‘Perfect is what we see in our hearts. Mountains will crumble, but the truth will remain.’ She made no sense, Ryder.”

Ryder clenched his fist and pounded it into his other hand. “That fucking old witch knows exactly what she’s talking about.” He stepped to the edge of the roof. “I’ll strangle her if she doesn’t tell me what I need to know.”

· · · · ·

Ryder landed not far from the witch’s den. Disgusted, he looked at the surrounding muck and filth. He strode forward, but realized he’d need a transformation to fit into her hellish home.

Moments later, he stood to full height. “Astral, get out here,” he yelled.

Silence ensued.

“Fuck.”

He pushed aside the vines cascading down the front of the entrance and entered. The smell of rotting flesh sent Vomit rushing to his throat.

What the hell is she doing in here?

Part of him didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

Ducking as he went, he followed a glimmer of light down the tunnel to a large room. A fire burned in the centre of the room. A gurgle from off to his blind side caused him to turn to where Astral lay on a blanket on the ground.

He moved closer. “Astral, what’s wrong with you?”

She turned her head slightly to glance up at him. The stench coming from her was almost overpowering. She coughed, spitting up green-and-red mucus. She extended her hand up toward him. “Help me up,” she murmured.

He did not want to touch her, but couldn’t deny her request.

She refused to let go his hand, and poked the scar in the center of his palm with her gnarled fingers, gurgling between broken-up laughter. “Perfect is as perfect was.”

Ryder snatched his hand away. “I’m not here for riddles, Astral. Tell me what you know about Misfit Mountain.”

The rag of a shirt she worn fell from her boney shoulder, revealing the oozing scabs.

“Not for me to tell,” she replied.

Anger boiled in his veins as he tried to control his temper. “Astral, tell me what I need to know. How do those poor souls leave that demon’s pit?”

Struggling to stay sitting, she pulled at the sack behind her. Her hand dug in, and she pulled out a limb of sorts.

Ryder turned his head with disgust.

How the hell am I going to get the answers I need out of her?

Her fingers let go, and the limb floated through the air and into the fire.

Well, she still has powers.

Smoke swirled, and the flesh singed. She pointed to the grey, twirled clouds of smoke, tilting her head back and forth. “No!” she yelled, grabbing another limb from the bag and throwing it into the fire.

Ryder stepped back.

Astral pushed herself up off the floor and stood hunched over. It was as though she didn’t even notice or care he was there. She limped slowly to the cave wall with scribbling all over it. Using her knuckles, she began rubbing them across the rock. Blood dripped down the stone, but she kept going. Raw and devoid of skin, she spun to stare at the fire and then up at him.

Her eyes were wide. “It’s the same each time. The darkness is coming.”

He shook his head.

It was a mistake to come.

Violently, she nodded her head up and down. “They come for me.”

Ryder crossed his arms over this chest. “Astral, you’ve brought this all on yourself.”

She laughed wickedly. “You know nothing about what you speak.”

“Just tell me how to save them, Astral. Don’t take them to the grave with you.”

Her harsh laughter brought him standing toe-to-toe with her. He grabbed her by the neck.

“I’m dying, anyway. Killing me sooner would help,” she said, struggling for air.

Frustrated, he pushed her back away from him. “Fuck, Astral, do something good for just once in your miserable life.”

Again she laughed, leaning up against the rock wall. “I did that for many years; you just didn’t see it.”

“The only thing you’ve ever done is to make Levarians despise you.”

“Gargoyle, you do not see. Perhaps you hide behind that missing eye of yours. Are you so blind?”

“Who is Fedor, Astral?”

Her smile faded. “Where do you think they come from, Mr. Big man? Do you think I just plucked them out of Levare myself? Fedor brought those sorry souls to me.”

He listened.

“We facilitated what Levarian’s couldn’t do themselves. Fedor collected payment, and I assisted with the plan to get rid of them.”

“What gave you the right to get rid of anyone or anything?”

“What gives you the right to fight and kill the way you do?” she countered. “We disposed of what Levarians didn’t want. Just like getting rid of the trash. Besides, they weren’t normal, anyway.”

Revulsion caused his stomach to roil. “You mean not normal like yourself.”

“There are many things about our planet that you are unaware of. Some of us are more powerful than others, so yes, I suppose I’m unusual. You are one of us.”

“Enough, Astral. Tell me how to free Tempest,” he spat.

A large smile formed on her lips. “Ahh. I see. I knew this time would come.” Then her smile faded. “I shouldn’t have listened to Fedor—him and that greedy Vicasha.”

He reflected on the haggard woman Fedor had met with back on the mountain. “You’re speaking in riddles again.”

“I like you, Ryder. I always have. You’re strong, like I once was.” She paused and sat on a stump beside the fire. “This Tempest is an unusual case. Perhaps the biggest mistake we all made. I underestimated you. I didn’t think you’d figure it out. I thought that key would be safe.”

He sighed heavily, desperate to gather control of his emotions. “She doesn’t deserve to be there. None of them do.”

“That’s a matter of opinion, I suppose. I’m curious as to how you discovered her and our hidden realm, but nevertheless, I knew the time would come.” She went into a massive coughing spell and doubled over, vomiting nothing but blood.

Fear seeped into Ryder’s soul. He needed to find out more. She couldn’t die…not yet. Quickly, he conjured a glass of water and handed it to her.

She smiled weakly, but clearly fought for air. “Do you know what she is? Or maybe I should say who she is? Think about it for a minute.”

“Damn it, woman, just tell me! Stop playing games.”

“I can’t make it that easy.” She breathed heavily, but continued. “I will only tell you this. Find those who assisted with your entry onto the mountain.” She sank to the ground and crawled her way to the blanket.

“I need more information, Astral!” he yelled.

Her breathing came in shallow gulps. “Some things are linked, and remember in order to remove hobbles from a prisoner, you have to find the keys to open the lock. You two are linked, but you must find the keys.”

Her eyes closed.

“Fuck!” He spun on his heels and exited the way he’d entered, not caring whether she lived or died.

How am I going to figure out what she meant?

Chapter Fourteen

Tempest sat in the sun, running her hand over Rogue’s cold stone body. A slight smile formed on her face as she realized how much tougher she seemed when Ryder was gone. Perhaps it was her way of trying to defend herself. If he never came back, she’d have to survive on her own…again. Her smile faded, so she forced the unpleasant thought away.

Focus on the happy thoughts. Rogue was happy.

The black pants and shirt she wore attracted the warmth of the sun. She would never grow tired of feeling warm, after all the time spent in the bitter cold.

A tiny movement—what she thought felt like a shiver—halted her hand on Rogue’s back. Sure enough, the faint quiver vibrated through the stone and into her fingers.

Could it be?

“Rogue, can you hear me?”

As the quiver became a visible tremor, she pulled her hand away and stood back. A large crack formed along the gargdog’s spine. Her mouth fell open as the fracture moved up along the edges of his tiny wings and down the length of his legs as a chunk of the stone fell from his back, shattering turning to dust as it hit the ground, his grey-and-tan-colored spots showing through.

Unable to hide her excitement, she jumped up and down, clasping her hands over her mouth in awe. Her best friend was coming back.

Piece by piece, the granite fell away until Rogue stood on all fours.

Unable to control her joy, she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I was so worried, Rogue. I’m so happy you’re back,” she exclaimed, wiping a tear from her cheek with her forearm.

He said nothing, causing a sickening feeling to well up inside her, but continued to stand straight, staring into the woods. Cautiously, she removed her arms from around his neck and bent down to look into his eyes.

“Rogue, it’s me. Are you okay?”

He continued to stare ahead, as though in a trance.

“Say something,” she pleaded, knowing something didn’t seem right.

Without any warning, Rogue took off, running at full speed through the forest.

“Rogue, stop!”

Not even looking back, he continued to dash forward.

She panicked. Her stomached knotted with fear for him. He didn’t know how to take care of himself, and something was certainly wrong. The safety of the cabin stood to her right, but her beloved companion had gone in the other direction. Without another moment of hesitation, she darted off after him.

The dense, wooded forest slowed her progress, and soon she realized the sunlight had disappeared. “Rogue where are you?” There was no point in yelling. She had no idea where he’d gone, and she was lost, as well.

“What a fine mess I’ve gotten myself into.” Speaking out loud helped hide her growing fear. The snap of a branch sent her spinning in all directions. She held her breath. Her heart felt as though it was going to explode out of her chest.

Scanning in all directions, she noticed a small tree, which was bent over. She ran in that direction, hoping Rogue had going that way. Dodging this way and that, her feet propelled her forward. The whole time, she looked for anything suggesting Rogue may have been going this way.

Off to her left, she saw a blur bolt ahead and halted, her chest heaving from the exertion.

What was that?

She no longer knew in which direction she ran. Finding her way back would be impossible, and nightfall was almost upon her. Again, she heard the crackle of branches.

What am I going to do?

To wander around in the dark didn’t seem like the best idea.

Rogue, why did you run away?

A high-pitched cry followed by a laugh set her pulse racing again. She ran toward the sound. Only Rogue cried like that. “Rogue,” she yelled. “I’m here. Where are you?”

The snide laughter echoed all around her. Fear turned to anger. “Who are you? Show yourself, you coward!”

Silence ensued until an odd creature with extremely long legs flew over her head. She threw her arms over her head, sheltering herself. “I’m not scared!”

Again, a whine came.

She proceeded forward. “I want Rogue back now!”

When a voice answered, Tempest lost her footing and tripped over a fallen tree. Face-first, she landed in the thick underbrush. The breath had been knocked from her lungs. She blinked, and focused on what she could see—extra-long, dirty grotesque toes with warts and long hairs covering each digit.

“Ouch,” she gasped, placing a hand on her head and quickly looking up at the being.

“Spitter doesn’t like the foul Rogue—he has no hair. But you have long ones.” He reached over, snatching at her hair again where some had fallen out of the braid.

She swatted at him, pushing herself to her knees. “Stop that!”

He pulled his hand away and stuffed it into his mouth. “Ummm, tastes good.”

The being wasn’t very tall. He had a long beard hanging to the ground, sparse hair on his head, and a large bulbous red nose. He tried again to grab for her hair, but this time, she reached out and grabbed his beard.