Everyone blinks at me, unsure how to process this revelation.
Macy is the first to move. She stumbles to her feet, mascara running in tear-streaked rivers down her face, and aims her wand at the gargoyle. At first, I think she’s going to attack him again, and I put a hand up, try to ward off her magic—and the ensuing rampage such a move might cause. But then she surprises me, my cousin—with her kind heart as big and fierce as any dragon’s.
She whispers a spell under her breath and shoots a bolt of lightning straight at the chain tethering the gargoyle to the wall.
103
Going Through
the Potions
The chain doesn’t break, so she blasts it again. And again. And again.
Each time, the chain shudders and groans, but no matter what she hits it with, it continues to hold.
Soon, Flint joins in, shooting ice at the chain to make it brittle, and I pick up a giant rock and, flying, try to smash the frozen chain to bits. But again, no matter how hard we try or how much the chains protest what we’re doing, they stay exactly where they are.
Finally, Jaxon staggers to his feet. He’s wan and a little gray-looking and in almost as bad a shape as he was that day in the tunnels with Lia. And still he tries to help, too, putting every ounce of strength and power he has left into pulling the chains straight out of the wall.
The wall creaks, and cracks start appearing deep inside it, but the chains continue to hold.
Jaxon starts to try again, but he’s swaying on his feet, and I’m terrified that using any more power will injure him permanently.
And so I turn to the Unkillable Beast—this gargoyle who doesn’t deserve what my friends and I tried to do to him—and my heart breaks just a little bit more to see his head low, his shoulders hunched, like he knew all along that this was going to happen.
I’m sorry, I tell him again. I’m sorry I can’t take you with us right now. But I promise, we’ll come back for you. We’ll find a way to set you free, and we’ll come back.
He studies me for long seconds, those bloodred eyes growing more human and less animalistic by the second. And then he asks, very simply, Why?
Why will we come back? To free you—
No. Why did you come to begin with?
Oh. I look down, embarrassed by what I’ve done. Embarrassed by the hubris that thought it would be okay to take something from this creature who has already suffered so much and embarrassed by all the other mistakes I made that led us here, to this moment.
We needed a treasure you protect. A heartstone, I tell him. I’m sorry. We thought we could just take it from you. It was wrong of us. We’re so sorry.
Heartstone? He cocks his head to the side, like he’s trying to figure out what I’m talking about.
Yes, heartstone, I repeat.
Slowly, so slowly that I think I must be imagining it at first, the gargoyle’s chest starts to glow a dark, deep red. He looks down at the color and so do we, more than a little shocked by what we’re seeing.
You need heartstone? he asks, and then he pats his chest.
Oh my God. The heartstone isn’t a jewel he’s protecting. It’s his stone heart. And after everything we’ve done to him, he’s still willing to give it to us for no other reason I can guess than that we stopped trying to kill him.
I fall to my knees again on a painful sob. Who did this to him? Who could be so cruel?
The gargoyle taps his chest again. Need heart stone?
No, I answer. No, I don’t. But thank you.
We’ve crossed too many lines to get here, sacrificed far too many things. Lost Xavier. I’m not going to compound that by killing this innocent creature, too.
I ruined everything because I didn’t fight harder for what I believed in, for what I believed was true. I knew that it was wrong to take away Hudson’s vampire nature. I knew it was wrong for us to sit in judgment of him. And I knew it was wrong to risk all our lives because I wasn’t strong enough to convince anyone that they were wrong, too.
So many wrongs that have led us here that I don’t know how to make right. I don’t know how I’ll ever make my way home again.
“Grace.” Jaxon leans against the wall to steady himself. “I know you’re upset, but you need to take it.”
“I’m not taking it,” I tell him, bowing my head in a silent thank-you to my kin. “I’m not killing this gargoyle, Jaxon.”
“When you calm down, you’re going to regret this.”
“There are many things I regret, but this decision will never be one of them,” I reply without turning to look at him. Instead, I lower my head and rest it against the side of the gargoyle’s foot as I shift back to my human form. Thank you, my friend. For everything, I tell him. I promise I’ll be back.
When I pull away, it’s to find that Jaxon has picked up Xavier’s body and is fireman-carrying him out of the cave. Macy is helping Flint hobble back over the rough ground and Eden is walking behind them, her right shoulder slanted down in a way that looks incredibly painful.
I hurry to catch up—we still need to find a way back home—but I pause at the mouth of the cave to wave at the gargoyle one more time. And I smile when he waves back.
Time is ticking away as we wind past the hot springs and back to the clearing, where the temperature has dropped several degrees and the aurora borealis dances across the sky in shades of green. The Trial is supposed to start in a little more than three hours, and neither Jaxon nor I am in any shape for it. Not to mention I have no idea how we’re going to get home. The dragons are both claiming that they can fly, but Flint’s bone is sticking through his leg, and I saw what Eden’s wing looks like.
No way is she going to be able to support a dragon’s weight on that wing, let alone the rest of us.
Macy doesn’t stop walking until she’s only a couple of feet from the water, and we all trail along behind her, lost and confused and more than a little scared. She settles Flint on the sand, then drops to her knees and starts rustling in her backpack. She doesn’t stop until she’s pulled out a handful of crystals and a spell book.
In the meantime, Jaxon lays Xavier’s body on the ground several feet from Flint before collapsing on the sand, and Eden drops down between them. She’s trying to keep her face neutral, but I can see the pain in her eyes as she looks at Xavier, and I know that only half her agony is physical.
My own anguish is pressing in on me, making it nearly impossible for me to breathe as I face my friends—really face them—for the first time since Xavier died.
I feel so guilty, I can barely look them in the eyes, but they deserve that from me and a lot more. So I meet each of their gazes in turn as I tell them, “I’m sorry. I never should have dragged any of you into my problems.”