His gaze fixed on Al, Bis crawled up to my shoulder and wrapped his tail around my neck. Treble gave him a yellow-eyed stare, and I almost choked when his grip tightened.

“The lines are still ringing from his latest jump,” Treble said caustically. “He’s thicker than a rock. And too young. Can’t even stay awake when the sun is up. I wouldn’t teach that pebble if he was the last living ’goyle in either plane,” she said disdainfully, then glanced at Al. “Unless I was told to.”

“Well, I’m telling you,” Al said, his features melting into his familiar vision of himself in lace, clothed once more. “You weren’t any older when I stole you from your mother.”

My shoulders dropped, and I exhaled, surprised that the crushed green velvet and lace that had once terrified me had become not only familiar but welcome. And yet, if I squinted, there was a hint of that black monstrosity in the curve of his shoulders, the depth of his chest.

Treble crouched, her skin darkening. “Right before you killed her. Bastard.”

Treble’s words were harsh, but her tone was bland, like a response in a play that has run too long. Al wasn’t really listening either as he took the steaming kettle from the fire and poured the boiling water over the grounds. Even Bis had relaxed his death grip on my throat.

“So you’ll teach him?” Al asked, the hidden threat obvious.

“I’ll teach him. I’ll teach him for her.” Laughing at the pair of us, Treble did a little half hop toward the table. I could smell coffee, and my head started to hurt. “If anyone can teach him, I can. I know the taste of all lines on this continent,” the gargoyle said in pride, her claws going silent on the carpet. “Even the shattered badlands where the great wars were fought.”

Bis was listening intently, but Al wasn’t, his thick fingers pressing the plunger on the coffee press to make swirls of denser brew rise and fall, unvoiced thoughts making him grim. Still silent, he poured two cups of coffee into twin, tiny white cups he took out of the cabinet. His mood was guarded, but it seemed he’d forgiven Treble as he placed a cup and saucer before me, then slid the soggy coffee press to Treble. “I think we should have Dali look at you, Rachel. Just to be sure you’re not damaged after sliding into reality like that.”

Dali? My fingers reaching for the cup drew back. “I’m fine. It just hurt is all.”

Bis twitched his tail. “I’m sorry, Rachel.”

Grimacing, I touched his flank. “Neither of us knew what we were doing. Don’t worry about it.” But we’d done it.