Page 106 of Endless Terrors
One of them stretched to its full height, and it was almost as tall as the demon that had clubbed me earlier. My body tensed with the instinctive urge to run, but I fought it. That would be stupid; regardless of whether the gargoyles were on my side, they were still predators. Predators liked to chase. So I stayed rooted in place and looked back at them, but not directly—I pointed my gaze toward their barrel-shaped chests.
The one standing in front began to make that sound I’d heard before. A series of meaningless clicks and purrs. From the way it looked at me, it was clear the creature was trying to communicate something.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re saying,” I croaked helplessly, shaking my head. At least I could talk again, I thought. I’d be able to scream while these things ripped me apart.
Happily, none of them seemed inclined to do that. As I kept listening to them, still trying to discern whether they were friend or foe, the one in front started making shapes with its claws. It took a while for me to figure out what it was doing, since I could only see whenever the sky deigned to send a burst of light. The gargoyle’s claws kept starting at the top, then going down, down, down, and ending in a flat line.
A tower, I realized.
They were going to bring me to our tower. They were taking me to Lucifer.
As soon as I grasped this, I felt a wildfire flare of relief, immediately followed by a drenching of shame. Here I was, free, and all I wanted was to return to my cage. I was no better than Narfu, or any other creature that found itself without chains, masters, or bars and yet still went back to what was familiar.
But at least with Lucifer, I wouldn’t get eaten by a giant, winged beast or fall into a bottomless hole.
It was this thought that propelled me forward, hurrying after the gargoyles, who had set off the moment they saw recognition in my expression. The pain wasn’t as bad now, and I hoped that meant I was healing, or finally making the disconnection between my old body and this new, terrifying reality.
The gargoyles matched my slow pace. They might move like cats, but in this moment, they were behaving like dogs. One of them even had its tongue lolling out of its mouth. I watched them race ahead and circle back, several of them always staying near me, muscles rippling beneath their uneven skin as they walked. In spite of the bloody battle these creatures had just engaged in, their demeanors were playful. They snapped their jaws at each other and exchanged what sounded like insults. Observing them made me feel lighter, and at one point, I even felt a smile tugging at my lips.
Then a structure appeared in the distance, and the smile vanished.
I could see its outline against the flickers. It made me think of a shepherd’s hut, for some reason. Maybe it was the low roof or the small fence around the crooked front door. The gargoyles were bounding toward it, so it seemed that was our destination. My heart sank. Did they think this was the First City? Had I misunderstood what they were trying to tell me?
My unease only grew when we got closer and I saw a small fire burning outside the shelter. A figure sat beside it. I heard a voice extend a warm greeting to the gargoyles as they arrived, prancing and bouncing in circles. The picture they made could’ve been torn out of a book of fairy tales.
I approached more cautiously, and stopped a healthy distance away from the fire. The figure was male, tall, and emaciated. A walking stick rested in the dirt next to him. He’d been cooking recently, if an empty metal plate and a stained, empty spit were any indication. Steam rose from a dented cup in his hand that looked like it was made of tin.
Hearing my footsteps, the stranger turned his head and met my gaze. From what I could see, he had no tail, talons, or scales. He was a soul, then, since it seemed unlikely he was one of the original fallen angels. Crow’s feet extended from the corners of his eyes. His gray hair was shaved close to his head, and his brown skin looked like leather. He wore a pilled, ragged-edged cloak.
By way of greeting the soul said, “They brought you here because they knew I could translate.”
Translate? I thought, nonplussed. Out loud I said, “Okay. Could you ask that one what it was trying to tell me earlier?”
He followed my gaze toward the gargoyle, which was standing on its hind legs again, watching us with its bright, beady eyes. “Elo.”
“What?”
“That’s her name, my lady.” He pointed to the others. “Salbrox. Givi. Tarek. Ircuk. That’s it, really. That’s all they wanted to say.”
As he took another drink, I waved at the gargoyles awkwardly, uncertain how else to react. I was also anxious to ask about the First City and how to get there, but the gargoyles had saved me. The least I could do was be polite. I spoke under my breath so they wouldn’t hear. “They brought me all the way here so I could … learn their names?”
“Gargoyles are simple creatures. They like you. They said their friend Narfu likes you, too.” The solemn-faced stranger set his cup on the ground. “We should get going. The shedim come out at midnight, when the sky is at its darkest. They don’t like me, but you would work them into a frenzy.”
He was coming with us? “The shedim?” I repeated.
“Evil spirits. They have teeth and claws, and they’re also very fast.”
“I’m so glad I came here,” I grumbled. “Hell is great.”
Evidently the soul had no comment on this, because he just hefted his walking stick up and used it to pull himself off the ground. I stood, debated for a heartbeat, then followed him. For a while, neither of us spoke. I was focusing on the ground, paranoid I would fall or step on something. There were also twinges of discomfort with every step, and it took effort to keep up with the soul. For a dude with a walking stick, he was surprisingly fast. I encouraged myself with the fact that I was already improving. Little by little, the pain was easing.
I only let myself pause when a small, rodent-sized animal scurried past. Spotting it, the gargoyles raced ahead of us. They plunged into the dark without hesitation, and I shook my head wonderingly, envying them. The soul noticed and said, “This is their home. They know the terrain even better than I do.”
“If this is their home, why do so many of them stay at the tower?” I questioned.
His walking stick hit a steady beat between us, the vibrations going through my feet. Thump. Thump. Thump. “Something must be drawing them there” was all he said.
My guide didn’t seem worried about our voices carrying to anything that might be out here. Since we had a long walk ahead of us, I decided to voice the question that had been at the back of my mind throughout this entire ordeal. Ever since the moment I’d stared up at that thorny demon from a crude platform covered in half-melted candles. You foul his name with your tongue.
