Myths and Gargoyles by Jamie Hawke (interesting books to read in english txt) 📕

going to work, and as I had recently found out, I actually was one. No point in lying. But I didn’t belong to a coven.

His blade bit me, surely drawing blood.

“District of Colombia,” I blurted out. “And it’s a big fucking coven, too.”

The goblin snarled and leaned in, licking his lips. “Fucking?”

Realizing my mistake in language choice, I rolled with it. “All the time. Witches, so many witches who want to fuck. Cast spells, take a break to fuck. Have dinner, then a nice fuck. It’s tough being a witch, sometimes.”

He chuckled but then glared again, as if remembering himself. “Why is it that I haven’t heard of this District of Columbia coven?”

“Ask him,” a dark, hissing voice demanded.

The goblin froze, clearly terrified of whatever it was that had spoken, then brought the knife up to my eye, pointy end right at the edge so that it was too blurry to focus on. “You belong to such a big fucking coven, you’ll know, won’t you? You’ll know where the Liahona is.”

“I don’t—” The knife pinched my eyelid and I cursed.

“The Liahona,” the creature snarled. “Tell me, or you lose this eye first. Then your other, followed by your tongue—”

“If you cut out my tongue, how would I tell you where it is?”

“You’d walk me to it, you nasty shit!”

Mocking the little guy probably wasn’t the best move, as his eyes had just slanted into a mischievous glare, the knife twisting. Clearly, I still had no idea what a Liahona was, but since everyone kept asking about it, the thing must have been important.

“Taking you is the only way,” I blurted out, not sure what to do, but knowing that would buy me time. “There’s a magical barrier set up. It needs me to go through, to take it down.”

“He’s lying,” the voice said, and the goblin shook its head, then laughed. It pulled its blade back, licked its teeth, and plunged.

In that moment, though, I used my elemental strike to freeze my bonds and break through them, then catch him with an ice punch to the elbow as I threw my head out of the way of his blade. The result was that his arm froze and snapped in two from my punch, then shattered on the ground.

The goblin shrieked, staring in confusion. I didn’t stay to find out what would happen next, knowing that I didn’t want to meet his colleague.

Charging out of there, I emerged to find myself surrounded by large tents, lines of them, and fires beyond. Big warriors with shades of green and even purple skin were throwing back drinks while others practiced swordplay.

I didn’t waste any time wondering where I was, simply darted left and ducked under a large oak, out of the light of the nearest fire. Where I was supposed to go, I had no idea, but I knew I didn’t belong here. Shouts sounded from behind and I threw myself to the ground, hoping they wouldn’t see me. The cold night was so dark it was almost impossible to see anything. I pressed low, branches and rocks scraping my forearms, and crawled away from the camp as fast as possible, only stopping when I noticed eyes staring at me from the darkness ahead.

Heart racing, I froze, hoping whoever was out there hadn’t spotted me. Two seconds later, a flash of steel caught my attention, then more. Forms were moving. A sudden roar filled the night and they were up and charging. My gut clenched and my hands shook as I started to push up, but they charged past me, drawing their weapons. They weren’t coming for me at all, I realized, throwing myself down next to a tree, but storming the camp!

I saw one man coming from my left so went to go right, when I slammed into the side of a charging horse, fell back, and whacked my head on a tree.

Any hint of light that had been there a moment before faded. When the noise of my harsh, wheezing breathing woke me, and then the darkness faded, I realized that someone was talking.

“Thank you, Irla,” a voice said in a whisper. “You’re sure he’s one of ours?”

“Only what I was told,” Irla replied.

“A witch?”

I processed someone approaching and blinked as my vision cleared. As far as I knew, I had a concussion and needed medical attention. Instead, I was on a thick blanket on a stone floor, this woman staring down at me. Again, I blinked, and this time I made out that she was petite and wore a gown of purple, cinched around the waist by a cord-style belt. Her fiery red hair was pulled back, and she eyed me with very blue eyes.

“You’re not with us,” she said, starting to turn.

“You can’t just leave me here,” I mumbled.

With a glance back, she scoffed, “Can’t I?”

“The Liahona,” I blurted out, taking a gamble. “If you leave me here, they’ll get it instead of you.”

That caught her attention. “You… know?”

I nodded. “And my goal is to keep them away from it. So…”

Another moment of thought, and then she was back at my side, first looking at my shirt, then kneeling to run her fingers along my jeans. “What are these clothes you’re wearing?”

The answer to that question was simple, but complicated. For one, would telling her that I was from the future mess with her head, or threaten to ruin my time? The question in itself was flawed, because while this had many similarities to a medieval time of my past, there were goblin creatures and other things here, I imagined. For all I knew, I was learning that my past had these, as my present—their future—had gargoyles and demons. What I had always thought might be an aspect of my imagination was actually magic, it turned out, and my aunt was part of some magic plot where an enemy group was trying to find something before her, or she was hiding it. Frankly, nothing was simple anymore.

Instead of giving