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

of that first room. We could hear fighting above, and I pulled her aside, staring into her eyes.

The answer to my question was clear before I even asked it. “Can you fight?”

“She… drained me,” Megha admitted. “But… kept me alive as bait.”

“Drained?”

“The Eye. It allows her to sort of absorb others.” Her legs nearly gave out, hand clutching mine. “Complete absorption.”

My eyes went to the ceiling, only now noticing the intricate carvings there, old images of nude women performing magic. An ancient coven, apparently. Old politics of D.C., maybe, as this was likely a house that had been passed down over many generations… or maybe it was even worse than I imagined. Just one witch, taking on different faces of men and women throughout the years, playing various roles in the governing of our country.

It sickened me, and yet I didn’t feel so surprised.

I had to hope my team would make it out of there, and sent Shisa the message to run, along with Riland.

“Come, quickly,” I said, holding tight to Megha, feeling her slim body against mine, her oddly out-of-place calm breathing.

We moved through rooms that had slats of wood, charred flesh. Offerings, sacrifices… and then cages. Empty, thank the heavens. But clearly used at one point or another.

Then we were out, moving into a passage that followed a canal—the old Georgetown canals? I didn’t know enough of the region to understand it, but we went as quickly as her energy level would allow.

A strange connection held us together, one that I assumed she felt, too. It came from that dark land, where we had met. As if both of us existed on more than one plane. It was through this that I could sense her panic, in spite of how calm she appeared.

“There was a time,” I told her, not sure what would be best here, but knowing I needed to talk, “that I wondered what sort of man I was. Put me in a ring, could I hold my own? Keep my fists up? Last even a round against someone who knew what they were doing?”

“You’re talking with me about… boxing?” she let out a wheeze of laughter.

“I’m talking about… questions. Trying to figure out what we’re capable of. And I was. Capable, I mean.”

“You’ve proven that here, with me.”

I waved that off. “Before. When there wasn’t any magic, or at least magic I knew of. When I found out I’d gotten into Johns Hopkins, my best buddy who was going off to the Marines challenged me. Got me in the ring at this place he trained, and we went at it.”

“You won?”

“Fuck, no.” I laughed, remembering it. “The way each punch felt like I was being hit by a car? The way he put me in the corner and was just going at me like we were the worst of enemies… I thought I was going to die, for a minute or two. Then I was still there, still standing, and I started laughing. He was confused. I got in one good cross that nearly knocked him on his ass. Then I really got it—but still stood. At the end of it all, he just stopped and started laughing, too, and then we showered, went out for beers, and spent the rest of the evening reminiscing. The good ol’ days…”

“What was the point of this?” she asked.

“Just… I don’t know. I guess that I’m not leaving you. Okay? No matter what it takes, I’m standing here, and I’ll keep standing. Now, are you with me?”

“Punch me and see what happens.”

“I think you missed the point.”

She winked, showing me that indeed she hadn’t. Putting one hand on the wall, I sensed that we were past the main part of the house, so I created a stairway up. While I was at it, I figured I’d have the stairs move, carrying us up almost like an escalator.

“It was a fine story,” she said, marveling at what I was doing.

My gut clenched at the use of my power, but I breathed deep, reminding myself how much of this was mental. In fact, her own lack of energy was in part under my control, right? I mean, I figured that, if I could alter the states of buildings and whatnot, why not learn spells to heal—why not use my power to heal her powers? Maybe it was a sense of duty to her, or maybe related to our Dark Lands connection, but I felt myself inside her. Not in the fun, sexual way, but in that I was there, looking through her eyes and seeing myself for a moment, feeling a ball of light growing within, circling and expanding, tingling up my limbs, and then bursting free.

“Next time you enter me, ask permission first,” she said, and then I was back in my own body, staring at her smile and loving it. “Thank you.”

I nodded, a hand out for hers as we ascended. An explosion came from nearby, and I sensed Kordelia there, alone. The stairs stopped moving.

“Sorry,” I said to Megha. “I have to help her.”

With a wave of my hand, the wall moved and I charged through, where I found two witches—a male and female—sending blasts Kordelia’s crouched form. She had her wings around her but was so large that I had no doubt it was her. At first. My senses had told me it was a large gargoyle. The largest, and so I assumed, but now that I was there, I realized something was off.

She was too large.

The size of two Kordelia’s almost, and still… stone? Some of it cracking, threatening to either break free or reveal the gargoyle beneath.

“It’s her, who I came for,” Megha said from behind me.

At her words, the witches realized we were in the room with them. They turned, their attacks now directed at us. My alert went out, my ice wall up. My screen next to me, with the option to wake the gargoyle.

I grinned, ready for this—and watched the witches