Myths and Gargoyles Jamie Hawke (i read a book .TXT) 📖

the other wing clean off, and then the gargoyle went over the other side of the narrow walkway, trying to flap its wings to get balance, and then desperately trying not to fall. One wing was gone though, so it spun, and then the one I’d damaged broke off.

The gargoyle’s expression turned to fear, an emotion it probably hadn’t ever felt before, a second before it fell from sight, shattering far below.

“I thought gargoyles only came to life at night?” I admitted, and she gave me a confused look. “Sorry, too many cartoons.” That didn’t seem to make it any clearer, so I moved on from the subject.

Or wanted to, but the gargoyles didn’t seem to think it was that sort of time, as three more had just clawed their way over the side of the roof.

“Charge through them,” Sekhmet said.

“Just… charge?”

She nodded. “Let us handle the rest.”

Fuck it, why not? At her nod, I turned and ran, prepared for whatever they’d bring my way. But as I did, each foot founding on that narrow parapet high above Milan on what would’ve otherwise been a glorious day for standing and staring over the red roofs of this stunning city, the gargoyles seemed confused. They turned and swung at the sky, then one hit the other. When they came at me, it was only to dive for a spot three feet to my rear, followed by a good clobbering from Sekhmet before she and Bastet were coming after me.

“Illusions?” I asked, remembering what we’d faced when first finding Sekhmet.

“My sister’s quite good at them, even in cat form,” she replied, and then put her blades away and got out the scepter, stopping to shoot a blast back at the pursuing gargoyles with it.

They fell back, and we ran.

We were almost to the base of the spire with the golden Madonnina when a final step sent us through what had been an invisible barrier. As soon as we passed through, gold light shot out, surrounding us, and we found ourselves on another section of the cathedral’s roof, an entrance just ahead of us, a bench and some holy water next to it.

No sign of the pursuing gargoyles remained.

“So you’ve come,” a voice said, and I noticed feet from the corner of that entryway, then the man standing. He was regal, to be sure—standing tall, but a look of defeat on his craggy face, a dark shadow hanging over him. While his clothes were those of a great king, red over a white tunic with gold trim, his eyes were red, vampire fangs clearly visible when he spoke. “And led her right to me.”

I glanced at Sekhmet in confusion, hoping she had some idea of what was happening, but before either of us could act, one of the women from the elevator laughed, drawing our attention back to the direction she’d come.

“You thought you could hide from me?” she said, transforming into Morganna as she lifted her hands and black, swirling tendrils emerged. The tendrils moved across the golden barrier, so that cracks began to show. “Oh, Arthur, we’re connected now.”

Arthur let out a roar as the shadows burst in through the barrier, surging around him. Sekhmet and Bastet turned to face Morganna, Sekhmet tucking the scepter away and drawing her blades while I held Excalibur up, not sure which direction to go, trying to look in both directions at the same time. Wasn’t Arthur evil and on her side? It seemed there was more to their story than I understood.

But when the shadows hit him, surrounding and engulfing the man, he rose with fangs extending, eyes going red, and turned on me.

He charged, going faster than even Red could move with her cloak—in a flash he had me, head back and fangs about to sink into my neck, when a flash of gold hit and he stumbled back. I fell to my knees in horror, struck with the realization of how close I’d come to death, and turned to see that Sekhmet had managed to lodge one of her blades into Morganna’s side, while Bastet was making purple barriers that helped stop the darkness.

“I told you,” Sekhmet said with a grin my way as she twirled her second blade, “she’s no match for me.”

“No,” Morganna admitted, pulling the blade free and tossing it to the ground, stumbling as she muttered a spell with a hand over the wound. “I might not be yet, but I soon will be.”

Another surge of darkness hit, managing to work around Bastet’s barriers, and Arthur was up and charging as he growled like a monster. He wasn’t coming for me, though, but running for the edge of the roof. I was about to go after him, but became confused when I saw Morganna leap at the same time as him, the darkness catching both of them and darting about like black lightning in a thunder cloud before folding in on itself and disappearing.

We all stared in dumb shock.

“Arthur…?” a voice said, and a woman came stumbling out of the area he’d first emerged from.

Bastet hissed, instantly on guard, and Sekhmet rolled, recovering her second blade and turning on the woman. Now with legs and fully clothed, it took me a moment to recognize Nivian, the Lady of the Lake. She wore a green dress now, one that clung to her quite nicely, and she no longer looked the part of a monster. Even her skin almost had a normal look to it, her hair seemingly more blonde than blue here.

“You should’ve gone with your friends,” Nivian said, staring at us in horror. “You’ve doomed him… doomed us all.”

“What are you talking about?” I said, lowering my guard as I realized she wasn’t about to attack. “Where are my friends?”

“They’re safe, in the spirit realm. But us?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Morganna’s going to bring back Merlin and all the power he has, all the power he stole over the ages… and take it for herself.”

“We’re