The gargoyles shifted their wings simultaneously, their quick descent making my eyes widen. My arms went around Etude’s neck, and I tried to make his center of gravity as near to normal as possible. His balance shifted, and I gasped as his wings made several strong back beats and he landed. Quen touched the ground an instant later. We were right on the gravelly garden path, or at least I was. Quen was about three feet up past the retaining wall, on the upper garden level.

“That line is ungodly awful,” Etude said as I slid off his back, my knees rubbery. The air felt very still after the chill wind of flight, and I followed Etude’s pained gaze to my line. That purple sludge was still there, almost glowing in the dark.

“Thank you for getting us here,” I said, wiggling my toes to make sure I hadn’t lost my magnetic chalk. Quen’s gargoyle, looking beaten, was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, his ears pinned back and his tail wrapped around his feet. Etude was handling it better, but clearly was still uncomfortable. “I’m going to fix the lines as soon as I can,” I said, and Etude’s ears pricked, an odd rumbling snuffling coming from him. I hoped it was laughter.

My knees were still shaking, and I carefully worked the cramps out. “Go,” I said, smiling at him. “Both of you. And tell those back at the church they might want to leave. I’m going to dump all the imbalance there in a few minutes.”

Etude leaned toward his friend, low elephant rumbles coming from them. Then the gargoyle who had brought Quen nodded, and with a powerful thrust of his back legs, he pushed off and found the air under his wings. Etude, though, remained. “I’m staying,” he said, his red eyes narrowing as he looked at the line. “I want to help my son.” Wincing, he turned to me. “I might wait at the castle, though, until needed. Burn my scrollwork, that line is awful.”

I gave his thick, huge hand a squeeze of thanks. My guilt over having lost Bis grew, but Etude only smiled a black-toothed grin at me, haunches bunching as he made the short flight to land atop the highest point, his wings curving in around him until he looked like a natural part of the roof. That is, until his eyes caught the faint starlight and glowed a savage blood red.

Wild wisps of hair had escaped my braid, and I smoothed them as Quen jumped to my level, his shoes scuffing the gravel. My knees were still shaky, but I didn’t think it was because of the flight here anymore. Elven magic was our best bet to keep Ku’Sox off us. I felt like a battery and I didn’t like it. “Ready?” I said as I brought out the rings.