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

pulled on my boxer briefs and pants, found one of my remaining three clean shirts, and headed downstairs. Was it wrong that I’d first paused to give Ebrill a kiss on the cheek? Maybe weird… I don’t know, but I wanted to thank her for saving me the night before, and even though I knew she wouldn’t feel it, the action felt right.

Fatiha was sitting with a rigid posture at one end of the table, toast and a jar of orange marmalade in front of her. My setting included a cup of coffee, orange juice, and a plate with sausage patties and eggs. Now that it was before me and the scent of those sausages and the coffee reached my nose, I realized how hungry I was and dove in.

When I’d eaten half of the plateful, the lady finally cleared her throat.

I looked up, finished chewing, and set my fork down. About to tell her everything, I paused for a gulp of coffee, but she held a hand up.

“I’m going to fill you in, and tell you what I assume happened last night,” she started. “Feel free to tell me when I get something wrong. In case you don’t recall, I am Fatiha, and I was your aunt’s closest friend. Sometimes, maybe more. But, that’s not important. What you need to know, and probably already have an inkling about, is that your aunt was much more than you originally thought. She was the Searcher, the one my order had hoped would find the Liahona, an ancient item of great magical importance.”

At the mention of the Liahona, I blinked, and she noticed. For a moment we stared at each other, and then I said, “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that word.”

“Gertrude mentioned it?”

“Before, and…” I shook my head. “I mean, as stupid as it sounds, a dream.”

Her eyes took on an intense fascination and her hand shook as it moved for the marmalade. She took a small spoonful, and used the back of it to spread the marmalade on the bread. “And the… gargoyle?”

“Last night, we were under attack. I woke her.”

Fatiha’s hand froze in place, marmalade on half of the bread. “And in the dream?”

“How…?” I started but nodded.

“Gertrude is dead, then.”

Again, I nodded.

She set aside the spoon, eyes staring blankly, then picked up the bread and took a bite. Just bread, no marmalade. She chewed slowly, blinked, and seemed to remember that I was there.

“Where?” she asked. “Where is Gertrude?”

“About that.” I took another chug of my coffee. “I can show you where she was.”

The expression in Fatiha’s eyes went from hopeless to confusion, followed by her standing. “Show me.”

With a glance of regret at my food, I took a sausage patty with me and my half-finished coffee, going with her to the room where my aunt had died and then her corpse had vanished. Along the way, I finished my patty, then my coffee as Fatiha explained that she lived in Bethesda but had known Gertrude since they were children, and had been involved in this Searcher business since my aunt had decided it was her role.

“Decided?” I asked.

“That’s correct. There was a book that spoke of things beyond our belief, our comprehension, really. But she started studying them, learning… dreaming.”

“I see.”

“And it led to riches, but all for the cause. It led to enemies, too, and eventually she was taken in by a group known as The Order of the Mystic Moon. It’s a group carried down by those first, early protectors of the Liahona. Lost to time but rediscovered in a book passed down for generations until it vanished, only to be rediscovered in the late 1800s. For years, they put pieces together, practiced spells discovered along the way, and searched for the Liahona.”

“My aunt…” I let that all sink in. The idea that she was all part of this secret order and had never told us. Or maybe my mom had known, but thought it too weird to share? I couldn’t believe my mom would have let me stay at my aunt’s place if she had known, though. My parents wouldn’t even let me watch Rainbow Bright when I was a child because they thought that show had too much to do with witchcraft. This was a whole other level.

“She discovered the gargoyles,” Fatiha went on, “and brought them here, but never learned how to wake them. At times, I wondered if she was mad, if the gargoyles were nothing but statues. Then, this morning… to see one in your bed like that…”

“We didn’t sleep together, I mean in that way, if—”

“Enough,” she waved her hand. “It would be none of my business if you had.”

I nodded, not really sure where I stood in all of this. We reached the hallway, each step feeling heavier as we approached the room. Stepping in, I frowned in confusion. The room was not at all how I had last seen it, but was completely put back in order, even with broken walls fixed.

“There.” I pointed to the spot where my aunt had fallen. “But I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“You will,” a stern voice said, and there was my aunt, standing in an alcove of the room. Only, it wasn’t quite her, as I could see the shelves behind her.

“A ghost?” I asked, not sure what would surprise me at this point.

“Not exactly,” Fatiha said, stepping toward her, but stopping at a shelf at her side, where a jade sculpture of a small tree was kept on display. “More like her… but not her.”

“I had myself linked to this Life Tree,” my aunt explained, approaching us. “This isn’t me, exactly, but like the essence of me. A part left behind, should you need my help.”

“Considering everything that’s happening,” I replied, “I’d say that’s a very real possibility.”

“With my last breath, I transferred magic to you, and my consciousness here. If I can guide you, I will. Fatiha…” My aunt turned to the woman, a sorrowful smile taking