He was dusting a silver green I’d never seen before, and I came forward, pleading with my eyes. “Jenks, we both know it’s too cold for you. Ivy, as much as I want you there—”
She shook her head, feeling her throat as if remembering how easily Newt had pinned her. “I’m not any help, am I?”
It really wasn’t a question, and I felt awful. “You are,” I pleaded. “Just . . .”
“Just not tonight,” she finished. “It’s okay,” she said around a sigh, her gaze distant, as if looking at the future. I couldn’t tell if she saw me there or not.
“It’s not okay,” I said softly. “It stinks.” Jenks was dusting a sour green in the corner, as far from me as he could get. He looked capable and ready, but I knew he would freeze tonight, and so did he. “This isn’t what I wanted,” I whispered, and his dust flashed silver, even as he refused to look at me.
“But this is where you are,” Ivy said, and my shoulders eased. “Go with Quen. I’ll watch Nick. All of us will,” she said, her voice hard with warning and Jenks clattered his wings at her. “He’ll be here when you get back, dead or alive.”
I was smiling, though something was dying in me. “You guys are too good to me.”
“Only because you made me so,” Ivy said, her eyes glinting with unshed tears.
The weirdest feeling of anticipation filled me, seeing them both there in my kitchen, willing to let me go, knowing that I could do this, and trusting me. “Oh my God,” I said, eyes swimming. “You are going to make me cry!” I sniffed, then moved about the kitchen, gathering everything up that I wanted to take—magnetic chalk, pain charms—it wasn’t much, and I stifled a swift pang of worry. I snatched my cell phone at the last moment, tucking it in a back pocket after making sure it was on vibrate.
“Ivy!” Quen shouted from the living room. “Get back out here and watch Nick, or I’m going to kill him myself!”
I smiled, giving Ivy a hug as Jenks hovered over both of us. “When I get back, we are all going to go out and do some serious vigilante work.”
“Ivy!” Quen bellowed. “I’m counting to three!” He couldn’t leave Nick, and he didn’t want to trust himself to bring him back to the kitchen.
“Thanks. For everything,” I said, and Ivy touched my arm before she turned and left the room. My smile slowly faded as I looked at Jenks, who was dripping an angry dust. It still felt like good-bye, but that was okay now.
“See you at sunrise,” he said, then turned, almost flying into Quen, the elf irate stomping into the kitchen.
The two of us alone, Quen stared at me, and I shrugged. “I’m not going to lie to them,” I said, and his eyes narrowed.
“They’ll follow us,” he started, and I shook my head, not looking down the hallway to the bright sanctuary as I patted my pocket to be sure I had the rings and went into the back living room for my coat, hesitating until I remembered I had left it on the porch to air out.
“No, they won’t,” I said over my shoulder, feeling almost relaxed. Ivy and Jenks would wait for me. I wasn’t losing them at all. “You’re just mad that you don’t have an excuse to do your charm.”
“A little, yes,” he complained as he followed me out. “Did something happen to the sanctity of your church again?”
My eye twitched. “Newt broke it so she could look in my closet.”
“Oh.”
The night air was almost a slap as I opened the door, the soft breathing of the wind taking me by surprise. My coat was frigid as I jammed my arms into the sleeves, and Quen watched as I shoved everything but my chalk into a pocket. “No splat gun?”
Snapping the chalk in two, I wedged a piece into each boot. “He can burst the charms in the hopper and put me out in three seconds,” I said, having downed Lee that way once—before we had come to an understanding. “It’s your elven charms that are going to hold him, sweetheart. You up to it?”
“Sweetheart?” he muttered, and I turned to the graveyard with its glowing gargoyle eyes. Feeling good for some reason, I started down the stairs, boots clumping until I realized he wasn’t following me. I frowned when he took a small, hourglass-shaped charm from his pocket and hung it on the nail the Christmas wreath had rested on. It was the first level of protection every home, be it Inderland or human, had, but we didn’t have one up right now.
“Hey!” I exclaimed when he pulled the pin from the intricately detailed charm made to look like a wineglass pouring into another, and a shimmering wave of gold and black rose. Great leathery wings opened in the graveyard, and I shivered, thinking that it was like the demons of hell had come to life and were here to drag me to eternal torture for betraying my friends.
“You didn’t lie to them,” Quen said as I fumed. “I’m not going to risk Nick escaping.”
My protest faded, and I almost fell off the step trying to see up to the top of the churchwide spell. “How long?” I said, my face cold, and he took my arm and turned me around.
“Sunup. Now: I’m doing this to save Trent. You’re doing this to save the world. Yes?”
Sunup. If I didn’t have this done by then, it wouldn’t matter. Nervous, I stuck out my hand, wishing I had my other coat. This one completely ruined the sophisticated air I’d been going for, but it was hard to sling spells when your muscles were stiff with cold. “Deal.”
We shook, and then together we went down the stairs to go around the front for his car. A hulking shape waited just inside the gate, and I gasped, almost running into a gargoyle. “Etude!” I said, flushing. It was obvious we had spelled the church.
“And you wonder why I refused to rest on your church,” the gargoyle said, his voice incredibly low but holding a hint of amusement.
“Ah . . .” I stammered. “We, ah, need to get to Loveland Castle,” I said, looking behind him at the rows of red and yellow eyes. “Are we too heavy for you, by chance?”
Etude grinned, and I shivered at the long black canines. “No. I don’t think you are.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
If a horse could jump and never land, it might come close to the feeling of flying atop a gargoyle. My knees hitched over the base of Etude’s wings, and I crouched low, the wind beating at me so hard my eyes were mere slits. Glory sang through me, the chill air streaming through my hair in a rushing sensation of silk. It almost felt as if I had wings myself, reading the air currents and leaning with Etude to take advantage of the rising air above massive parking lots and the ribbon of the expressway we now flew over.
My stomach lurched as Etude beat his wings in three quick successive beats, and my legs tightened around him, making him flick his ears back to ensure I was still seated firmly. We’d had some trouble gaining altitude without the usual drop from a church tower that gargoyles were used to, but Etude had managed.
Closing my eyes, I leaned forward until I was almost lying atop him, the wind tearing over my back and my head surprisingly close to his ears. Etude banked suddenly, and my arms sprang around his thick neck. His entire body shook with laughter, but I didn’t care. This was beyond description. To fly between the dark earth and the black sky when the waning moon rose was surely the pinnacle of existence: the power, the strength, the unsurpassed beauty. If riding a horse was freedom, this was heaven on earth.
Still holding that thought in my mind, I rested my head against Etude’s warm neck. Quen looked tense, his brow furrowed as he sat almost upright against the wind atop the equally large gargoyle who had agreed to take him. He was riding him like a horse, probably with a much better seat than I had but creating far more drag.
Quen smiled grimly as I caught his eye. Etude’s ear flicked back, changing the air currents racing over me, and my grip loosened when the gargoyle leveled his flight. I looked down to the ribbon of lights on the expressway. Traffic was heavy this time of night. “Do you always follow the expressways?” I called out to Etude, his tufted ears
