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

its belt, and a glowing mark of a dragon on her partially-exposed chest. “I was using them, you silly fool. Using them to connect with my mother through the Fae world, to become her and throw off this silly name for a better one.”

“But… we don’t know who your mother was, only that she was a Shade Master.”

Riak scowled at her sister and spat back, “Until recently that was true. As my mother was before me, now I take on the role. From now on, you will address me as Morgan le Fey, or Morganna. And you? You are no sister of mine.”

Hard on the heels of that declaration, I heard Red yell, “Jack! Watch out!” I spun just in time to meet Pan’s rush as his shadow reached out to grapple with me as well.

I managed to see that Elisa and her brothers had the vampire lady subdued just as Pan and I clashed. She was taking their full attention, fighting and hissing as they used every trick and bit of power they had to keep her contained.

Morganna—as I now knew her to be—held out the sword, her purple mist wrapping around it and lighting up with a burst like lightning.

“No,” Pucky cried, taking aim with her magical rifle. “This can’t be…”

“One more sacrifice.” Morganna stepped toward Pucky’s kneeling form. “That’s all it takes, and he will be reborn.”

She was about to swing Excalibur and end Pucky. This amazing woman who I’d gotten to know in a brief amount of time would die if I didn’t do something, I realized. But I was the Protector! No way was I about to let any harm befall her or any of my team, so I abandoned my assault on Riak allowed the wolf in me to come out under my terms. Fuck all this bullshit—I was in control!

To my surprise, it actually worked. Focusing on the good while embracing the dark, I was able to let just enough of it in to give me the strength to toss Pan off of me. I staggered as I pushed up and regained my feet, watching and gathering myself for a brief moment as he seemingly flew before slamming face-first into the floor. Then I charged Morganna. She was of the Fae world, I figured, so I had to reach her level to stand a chance.

As I ran, I focused on every ounce of me that had any connection to my qi or this magical other dimension so that when we collided, we weren’t in the convention hall at all, but on top of a hill with a castle below us and spirits or fairies—glowing lights with humanoid shapes, was all I could see in the brief moment I had to take it in—and we were struggling as warmth took me over, light all around like the fairies were merging with my strength, fueling me on.

The sword went flying from her hands, clanking on rock. I managed to get one foot behind her and flip her over my hip, just as I’d been shown in my training exercises. A surge of fairies went for the blade, but I reached it at the same time as them. Now, instead of helping me it was like they were trying to take the blade, their power strong.

Morganna was up again, tackling me. We both held tight, but I got in a good headbutt and she loosened her grip. Then I had it, pulling it free from the light. The moment the sword was in my hands I felt a surge of power much like leveling up, and then the hills and fairies vanished in a burst of blue light.

I was back in the convention hall, holding that sword high as Morganna fell back. She crawled away from me, cursing and spitting, eyeing me with complete and utter hatred.

Pan was up again though, lunging, a short blade in hand that I knocked back with a good parry. He came at me again and I slashed him across the shoulder, warning him to stay back.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, still holding the many stories of Peter Pan too closely to my chest, apparently. This isn’t that character, I reminded myself, so that when he next came at me, another dagger pulled out and ready, steel flashing, I had no choice if I wanted to live—I sidestepped and brought the sword up in a thrust.

The feeling of my blade sinking into his flesh was sickening. The expression on his face was heart-breaking. He looked at me like I’d betrayed him, as though he’d given me a choice in the matter, but then… he smiled, looking down at my sword in his chest.

With a laugh, he pulled himself closer, the blade sinking deeper. “You’ve won a battle,” he said, “but it’s cost you the war.”

Not wanting any more of this, I kicked him off the sword and watched as he fell limp, his Ichor floating into me.

I couldn’t believe I’d just killed Peter Pan. It didn’t feel right. Actually, there was something very wrong about it, I realized as the purple mists swirled around his body, taking him. Then his body was rising into the air above us and Morganna was laughing with joy.

“What’s happening?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off of this sight but hoping my team was nearby.

“The final sacrifice,” Elisa said, running over and standing at my side.

“I…” My voice caught, horrified.

“We stopped her from killing more,” Red said, approaching too, staring up in awe. “Only to finish the ritual.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” I asked.

“My guess,” Elisa said, indicating the form that was now spinning in all the magic, “is we’ve just revived a Lost Soul.”

“Arthur, to be exact,” Morganna said. The form was morphing, expanding, hair becoming a lighter brown, almost blond, features changing too, to take on higher cheekbones, more muscle in the shoulders and arms.

This thing could be Arthur, sure, but what really threw me for a loop was when he