The Lovely and the Lost

“This bridge is closed.” The words traveled to their ears clearly on the wind. His voice was calm and measured, but firm. Gabby had no doubt that this man, whoever he was, had every right to order them gone.

 

“This bridge is also marked,” Chelle replied, twisting around to look past Gabby’s shoulder. Gabby pivoted to follow her gaze to a rampart topped by a canvas-wrapped statue. She had noticed it earlier but paid it no attention—the whole bridge seemed to be wrapped in canvas. But now, on second glance, Gabby saw a bit of the statue poking out. A pair of sharp stone claws curled into a ball of granite atop the rampart. The stone around the claws had been carved to look like shaggy fur. Lion’s paws. What lay beneath the canvas seemed so obvious now, especially given the hump where the figure’s back must be: wings. It was a gargoyle, and it had a twin directly across the center of the bridge.

 

Gabby turned back to the approaching man with new clarity. The presence of those two statues meant this bridge had a gargoyle protector. The number of statues didn’t determine the number of Dispossessed assigned to a territory—there were scores of gargoyles upon the abbey, yet Luc was the sole Dispossessed there. Gabby didn’t know how many gargoyles protected this bridge, but this man, his black hair streaked with ribbons of silver at the temple, was most certainly one of them. And Gabby was trespassing on his territory.

 

He wore an old-fashioned jacket and waistcoat, and his pinstriped trousers had been tailored at least a quarter century ago. He came to a stop directly in front of Chelle. So close that Chelle, squeezed as she was between the man’s chest and Gabby’s front, was forced to slip off to the side. The man stared at Gabby, his eyes two pools of ink.

 

“You’re one of Luc’s humans,” he said.

 

“Who are you?” she whispered. She hadn’t met another Dispossessed before.

 

“Yann,” the man answered. She wondered how old he was. How many centuries he’d lived through, what he’d seen. He wasn’t human, that much Gabby knew.

 

“And you, Alliance,” Yann said, sparing Chelle a pointed glare. “Are you luring demons to my bridge?”

 

Chelle huffed. “It took you long enough to get here.”

 

She had known? She had taken Gabby to a protected place on purpose? Chelle caught Gabby’s incredulous stare. “What? It’s called tactics, Gabby. Added protection is never a bad thing. Even if it is from one of them.”

 

Chelle turned her back to Yann, who then resumed inspecting Gabby. “Where is Luc? If I felt humans in danger on my bridge, he should have felt your fear as well.”

 

Gabby lifted her chin. “He didn’t feel my fear because I wasn’t afraid.”

 

Except for that one blip, of course, and Luc had learned to ignore the blips. At least, Gabby hoped he had. He was intuitive but also reserved. If he didn’t have to go chasing after one of his humans, he wouldn’t. He’d wait for the real emergency instead.

 

Yann’s smile surprised her. “You may be interesting, human, but you’re also troublesome.” He inclined his head, his smile drawing into something wicked. “I don’t like trouble. This bridge. Is. Closed.”

 

Gabby refused to inch back. She wouldn’t be bullied by anyone, not even a gargoyle.

 

“Don’t worry, gargoyle. We won’t be coming here again. From the looks of your bridge, you’ll be in hibernation soon,” Chelle said, adjusting her cap and strutting past Yann. “The best gargoyle is a sleeping gargoyle, after all.”

 

He lowered his dark lashes, closing his eyes for a long moment. What Chelle had said was correct. Not about sleeping gargoyles being the best gargoyles—Gabby didn’t scorn the Dispossessed the way Chelle did. But with this bridge being shut down for as long as it had been, the Dispossessed guarding it should have slipped into the stony sleep the gargoyles called hibernation. Without humans to protect, there was nothing to keep a gargoyle awake. From what Gabby had learned so far, though, it sometimes took months for a gargoyle to go into hibernation. Perhaps Yann was already beginning his sleep. Maybe that was why it had taken him so long to sense a human in danger on his bridge.

 

Chelle half turned to see if Gabby had followed her, but Yann had opened his eyes and was spearing her with them again, a new edge to his stare.

 

“You should return to the abbey. Demons are out in droves lately,” he said. “Luc has a hard enough time as it is keeping tabs on you.”

 

“I don’t require anyone to keep tabs,” Gabby replied. That was the reason she’d started training her fear reflex in the first place. Besides, if she was going to be fighting demons, Luc couldn’t be coming to her rescue every time.

 

“Regardless,” Yann said, suddenly smug. “You and your family seem to need more than one pair of watchful eyes. Luc will soon be joined by another Dispossessed, isn’t that so?”

 

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