Seeking a Path

Demona pressed herself deeper into a shadow as the two young gargoyles passed. They were so deeply engrossed in conversation that she could follow without much worry over concealment.

The Labyrinth clan thought they knew everything there was to know about this stinking rotting hole. She snorted inwardly. The young gargoyles had wandered well outside the areas that this clan's people normally patrolled, nearly stumbling upon her on their way towards the surface.

She glared at the mismatched pair walking. Lexington, crawling along the floor like a gargbeast. The other walking tall and straight, head dipped in deference. Speaking so softly, Demona could barely hear. After a few more bends away from the central area of the Labyrinth, she risked getting closer.

This new one had arrived with the storm, she deduced easily enough. But where from?

The pair stopped under a drain. It must be at some major intersection; flashes of lights trickled down, reflecting back and forth against the cement walls. Lexington excitedly explained aspects of the city that could be seen. People, taxis, advertisements. The other one craned ... his? ... neck to get a better view.

Demona craned her own neck. This one looked familiar.

An image of Angela flashed in her mind, a beautiful blending of Goliath and herself. She tried to stamp down the soft feeling in her heart that accompanied the image of her daughter.

If only things had been different. If those damn Viking's hadn't threatened. If her clan had been able to keep their home safe without the damn Scots guarding them through the day, without Goliath making the pact with them. They could have raised their daughter themselves, seen her grow. Laugh with her when her wings first carried her through the sky. Cried with her when she first skinned her knee. Feel pride at her first hunt. Share her joy as she picked her mate, had her own eggs.

Yet another thing the humans had taken from her.

Her fist clenched. Glared at this new gargoyle. A symbol of the hatred, ignorant of his place in the world.

The double wings opened in surprise at some marvel the city revealed. Demona gasped. Both young gargoyles looked in her direction. She pressed her teeth together and waited silently for their attention to return to the bright lights outside.

She knew those wings. Only three in her clan had had them. Two female, one male. One female's remains she'd used to create Coldstone. The other hadn't chosen a mate for the last cycle. The male... he'd mated with a moss green mouse of a girl, if Demona remembered rightly. Neither of them had survived, but obviously their egg had.

Demona felt a twinge of sadness. She didn't even know this ones parents, not really. And they too, had died under the hands of the Vikings.

Would the terror the humans wrought never cease?

"There's so much out there," the new one said, in awe.

"Yeah. You'll get used to it, but it'll take a while."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for it."

"Ready for what?"

"To go back out there. It's so loud, even from here, and so bright. It wasn't like this at first."

"The boat from Avalon landed you in a park. Its usually quieter there, and darker. Especially at night."

The taller one looked out the drain again. "Could you take me to this park? I don't think I'm up to that," he waved vaguely. "Yet, but I'd like some air."

Demona wrinkled her nose. She could heartily agree with that. Lexington, however, looked stricken.

"You're not leaving already?"

"No, Lexington," he said, crouching down and away from the chaos New York normally displayed.

"So, you're going to stay longer?"

Now it was the new one's turn to look tense. "Maybe a couple more nights."

The smaller gargoyle's smile glowed in the darkness. The new one seemed to relax, somewhat, and tentatively put a slim hand on the hunched gargoyle's shoulder.

Demona smirked.

"And you can show me more of the strange wonders of this place."

"One condition. Stop calling me Lexington. Clan calls me Lex, it's everyone else calls me by my full name."

Demona rolled her eyes at the melodramatics.

"So, I'm clan now?"

"Well, you're Avalon Clan, or you were. Avalon clan came from Wyvern clan, so...."

Hands waved in defeat. "Point taken, Lex. Show me the way to this, park. Now I know I need some air."

Demona hid again as they passed in the opposite direction.

Avalon.

Demona felt a tingle coming off of the new one as he passed. So close. She could nearly reach out and snatch him. What would she do with him?

Avalon! All of the eggs. Surely, more than just Angela and this one had hatched. None would know the world, would know the humans the way she did. She could spare them that suffering. Teach them how to survive.

A glimpse of an idea formed. She didn't know how, not yet, but this one had come from that magical shore.

She would discover a way to travel there herself.

Her eyes roamed to this new opportunity again, studying him. What was that human saying? You can't catch flies with vinegar, you must use honey.

Her smile grew predatory, her eyes glowed red in the dark. Honey, perhaps. But first she must catch the fly.