It’s a horrible thought—the idea that my parents deliberately kept who I really am from me my whole life—so I shove it to the back of my head and force myself not to think about it. Because learning that I’m a gargoyle is bad enough. Learning that my parents didn’t care enough to prepare me for this? That’s unforgivable.
Or it would be if they were alive. Now that they’re dead…I don’t know. Something else to go in my growing “Shit I Don’t Have Time for Today” folder. Because dwelling on it now definitely isn’t going to help me.
Instead, I paste a huge smile on my face—a smile that I’m far from feeling right now—and walk straight up to the circulation desk in the center of the library.
Amka is there, thankfully, and she smiles at me just as widely—hers looks genuine, though, which is nice. “Grace! It’s so good to have you back.” She reaches across the desk and squeezes my hand. “How are you?”
I start to give her a trite answer—I’m good, thanks—but the warmth and concern in her eyes get to me, even though I don’t want them to. So instead of lying, I just kind of shrug and say, “I’m here.” Which isn’t exactly what I’m feeling, but it’s close enough to get the point across.
Her smile turns sympathetic. “Yeah, you are. And I’m really glad about that.”
And there she goes again, putting things in perspective for me really quickly. “Yeah. Me too.” My manners kick in a little belatedly. “How are you?”
“I’m doing well. Just getting the library in shape for the Ludares tournament. Teams like to meet in here to strategize before the big day.”
“What’s Ludares?” I ask. “And is that what that’s for?” I point to the table now taking up space in the center of the library. I didn’t get a good look at it on my way in, but I plan on checking it out later, when I need a research break. From what I saw, it’s filled with all kinds of interesting and magical objects.
“Originally, it was designed as a Trial to compete for spots on the Circle—the governing body for supernaturals—but…since no one on it has died in a thousand years, there haven’t been any new openings to compete for. Which means for now, it’s just a sporting event.
“Of course, the version of Ludares that’s the actual Test is a lot more dangerous than what we play now—and the odds are way stacked against the challenger’s success. Now it’s more for fun and to promote interspecies relations, since the teams are made up of all four of Katmere’s factions.” Her eyes twinkle. “It’s the highlight of every school year.”
“So how do you play?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It’s something you have to be a part of to understand.”
“That’s so cool. I can’t wait to see it.”
“See it?” Amka laughs. “You should compete in it.”
“Me?” I’m aghast. “No way can I compete against a bunch of vampires and dragons. I mean, what am I going to do? Turn to stone? I’m pretty sure that’s not much help in a competition.”
“Don’t be so negative. Gargoyles can do a lot more than turn to stone, Grace.”
“They can?” Excitement bubbles up in my voice. “Like what?”
“You’ll figure it out soon enough.”
I’m a little annoyed—that’s not much of an answer—and my shoulders sag, but then she turns around and points to one of the heavy wooden tables in the corner of the library. There are about three dozen books piled into several haphazard stacks, plus a laptop sitting right in front of a comfortable-looking armchair in a patchwork of colors.
“I took the liberty of pulling every book we have about gargoyles. The piles on either side of the laptop are the ones I think you should start with—they approach things pretty broadly and give a good overview. The back piles are more nitty-gritty research-oriented stuff and will answer more specific questions you might have as you learn more.
“And the laptop is already signed in to the top three magical databases in the world. If you have any questions about how to use them to research, let me know. But to be honest, they’re pretty self-explanatory. I think you’ll do fine.”
Despite not being a crier—I’ve never been a crier—I can feel tears burning the back of my throat for, like, the third time today. I hate it, absolutely despise it, but I can’t seem to help it. I feel so topsy-turvy, and realizing so many people have my back…it’s just a little overwhelming.
Or a lot overwhelming. I haven’t decided yet.
“Thank you,” I tell her when my throat finally relaxes enough for me to speak. “I…I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, Grace. Anytime.” She smiles. “We bibliophiles need to stick together.”
I grin back. “Yeah, we do.”
“Good.” She reaches behind her to the small, stickered refrigerator she keeps next to her workspace and pulls out a can of lemon La Croix and a Dr Pepper and hands them to me. “Researching is thirsty work.”
“Oh, wow.” I take the cans from her with suddenly shaky hands. “Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Just get to work,” she says with a wink.
“Yes, ma’am.” I give her one last smile and then head toward the table in the corner.
My fingers are itching to dive in to the books—and so is the rest of me, to be honest—but I take a few minutes to get situated before I start. I pull out the notebook I’ve designated just for my research and a handful of my favorite pens.
I put in my earbuds and get my favorite playlist going before pulling out the pack of M&M’s I bought at the vending machine in the student lounge on my way here. Then, and only then, do I settle into what very well might be the most comfortable chair in existence…and finally reach for a book.
I just hope it has some of the answers I need.And I wouldn’t mind a good memory retrieval spell, too…
24
Go Smudge Yourself
“Gra-ace. Come on, time to wake up.” A familiar voice penetrates the hazy fog of sleep that surrounds me. “Come on, Grace. You need to get up.” Someone taps my shoulder.
I swipe a hand across my face. Then roll over and curl up into a ball.
“I don’t know what to do.” This time I’m conscious enough to identify the voice as Macy’s, even though I have no idea who she’s talking to or even what she’s talking about. Nor do I care.