The Phantom of the Night

by Tigris Euphrates

Christine P. Shelton of Salt Lake City, Utah accidently runs across the gargoyle she names Phantom, resulting her becoming involved in a massive feud of warring halves of the Children of Oberon. Illustrated. (homepage: http://www.miniclan.org/tigris/saga.

7. Cearda's Battle

Writing begun: July 22, 1996
Compiled by Dasha Ariel
Compiled on: March 25, 2000

Dedicated to the memory of Terese Sinclair.
May our friendship outlast the trials of life.

SETTING
This story takes place between the time when Iolair and Tigris were reunited.
The year is 2005 - BEFORE Phantom 6.

This is an original work, not associated with the Walt Disney Corporation. No copyright infringements intended. All rights to the elements of this work reserved by the author. None of this content is in anyway directly copied from any Disney publication. "Gargoyles" belongs to Walt Disney Studios.

This is not a G-rated fanfic! It contains some mild sexual references, references to nudity, and the aftermath of a rape. There is no language. It does contain transgendered themes, which means one or more characters may change gender. If you are offended by this idea, you may want to not read on. I would recommend an PG-13 rating.

Castle Gorebash

2005

The bag was tossed around from child to child in a sequence, and whoever failed to catch it had to step from the circle. Young Aslan caught it, and tossed it to Black Night, where it went on to Satana, and then to Lysander. She tossed it lightly at the new gargoyle, the eagle headed child she had befriended. Eagle moved to try and catch it, tripped over his own tail, and fell down face first into the mud.

The assembled young rookery siblings laughed. Most calmed down quickly when they saw that the small boned gargoyle would not stand back up, but covered his eyes in humiliation. However, one of the young gargoyles did not stop laughing, but lay down on a nearby table, and rolled on it with hysterical burst of laughter every time he so much as looked at the muddy gargoyle child. The eagle- headed child's face muscles worked beneath his paws.

"Oh, stop it." Lysander accosted Mirror Fox.

"The eagle-child is strange and awkward." another human commented.

"He doesn't even know how to be a gargoyle!" Mirror Fox laughed.

"We all were awkward, once." Lysander sighed, patting young Eagle on the shoulder.

"But how can you trip over your own tail? I never did that!" Mirror Fox continued.

The eagle-headed child burst from the courtyard and into the rookery in tears.

The gargoyle children, except Lysander, laughed again. Lysander glowered at them all, and each other them, Mirror Fox included, swallowed their grins.

Above, on the parapet, Gorebash smiled, and turned to the rookery door.

The eagle-headed child knew that the rookery was only a place for disobedient young gargoyles to go to be humiliated and humbled. He was beyond care at his own humiliation. He stumbled on the steps, and sometimes tripped over his tail again and again, falling down in frustration and anger onto the stone steps. He didn't care - he just wanted to be alone.

In his mind, he cursed himself. Why wasn't he like all the others? Why didn't he look just like they did? Why did they treat his so differently?

Deep down inside, he knew why. If he were not now a gargoyle and impervious to the coolness of the rookery, he might have shivered. He held his arms, and slid down against one wall, allowing his wings to sit cockeyed around him.

The memories were still clear in his mind. The incredible white sorceress Fey who mixed her blood with his own to bring him back to life even as he lay dead. He remembered the time when he did not look strange. He had been a fair skinned young boy.

A human boy.

The child closed his eyes, and remembered their faces. Mirror Fox, Obsidiana, Lex, Lysander, they were all such a strange discovery to him... so like himself it seemed at first. Now he knew he would never be like them. He was different.

He remembered, for just a flash of a moment, his mother's face. Terra Christine Shelton, a face from another world, so full of anguish upon hearing the news that her son was dead. Michael Shelton, his father, a monument of strength, the face that did not mourn, but the child could feel his broken heart. That was the price he had paid to keep his life. His family, his life, even his own body. He bore an eagle's head and eagle's wings to remind him of them, of the price he had paid to buy back his life.

Stumbling drunkenly, he completed the journey to the base of the steps. Here, he tripped on a outgrown root, and fell again, barely catching his own fall once more before he hit the rock.

He stopped, and looked again. It wasn't a rock. Too smooth, too white, too round.

It was an egg.

The entire cavern below was filled with eggs of all sizes. Small white ones, to large green ones with blue splotches. Amazed, his humiliation forgotten, he explored the rookery with anxious anticipation, curiosity ablaze.

A blaze of flame brought the eagle-child's attention suddenly about. Lord Gorebash stood at the base of the steps, watching him. He had lighten a brazier to get his attention. The eagle child was so startled, he fell to his knees, which dug into the soft dirt floor.

Gorebash nodded to the eggs. A bit of fire lit a small brazier, and the eagle-child could see into the egg. Illuminated from without, the eagle-child could make out a small winged figure, moving slowly.

The child gasped with wonder. Gargoyle eggs! Might he have come from one of these, had he not been born of humans? What must it be like to be born of an egg?

Gorebash smiled, lowering his head beside him. "Pretty, aren't they?"

"Yeh... yes milord. Beautiful even." he stuttered nervously.

"I often come here when I am troubled. The gargoyles believe this is a holy place."

"It must be."

There was silence for a moment.

Images of the eagle-child's human parents danced before his mind. Somehow, Gorebash spoke of them. "You miss them, don't you?"

"Yes." the eagle-child began to cry.

Gorebash rested his large head near the small child. "Then cry. It is good to cry for those we have lost."

The eagle child looked at his four taloned paws. He grasped them before his face, cried out in anger, and wept.

Gorebash stayed with the little one until the dawn came.

Atlanta, Georgia

2005

He was a small and lonely boy during most of the years he was among clan at Castle Gorebash. His skills at swordplay and with magic were nothing spectacular, and he always seemed angry and preoccupied. Lysander, the clan leader of the time and a great sorceress, kept the young gargoyle at her side, hoping to see him flower into something spectacular.

Alas, such was not the case. As time went by there were others who didn't care for his presence, and they made themselves known. Particularly bothersome were youngsters like Fox and Saber. They seemed to sense the young gargoyle's unease, and fed upon it. Despite having made some female friends among the gargoyles, he was - for the most part, a loner. He had a vile taste in his mouth for humans, something that no one could riddle out. He showed no interest in females, even after the time of his coming of age.

Therefore it did not take much prodding, did not take much time, and few were surprised when it happened.

He ran away from the clan.

Having crossed over from the fairy realms into "normal space" somewhere around Atlanta, was where he was first found by the Clann na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir.

The forests were thick and rainy, and a fog hung in the air on the mid-winter morning. Dawn was not far away, and as the gargoyle glided north, he could be heard weeping.

The cry of another gargoyle filled his ear. There was a flash of orange, and the next thing young Matthew Shelton knew was that he was laying on his back in the middle of the forest with another gargoyle standing on top of him, a nasty looking weapon at his throat. It had a long pointed blade on it's tip like the point of a knife, and was connected to another, wider blade, like that of an axe. It seemed to radiate magical energy.

"Who are you?" The other gargoyles demanded. She was sun-bright orange with feathery wings, and had a beak and white hair. "Speak, or you die!"

"I have no names, but humans call me Eagle. I have no quarrel with you." It was then that he noticed a small silver device about her neck. It was like a large clasp, sealed with a brilliant stone - or a cuff.

"That's good that you have no quarrel, but I hardly need one to kill you, do I?" the female responded. "I am Cearda. It is the last name you shall hear before you die. What clan are you?"

"I... have no clan." Eagle shook his head. "And if you kill me, that only makes the humans that much stronger."

His words seemed to strike a chord in her, and she paused. "Why should you hate humans?"

"Why should you hate gargoyles?" he countered, undiplomatically.

"We shall see." Cearda replied, allowing him to rise to his feet. "Follow me."

Eagle nodded, and followed obediently.

Before long, Eagle found himself being introduced to another gargoyle, Cearda's traveling companion. This other bore a shocking red mane of hair that seemed to stand on end and light blue skin. She bore a golden crown and jewelry.

"BEHOLD!" Cearda said, "The queen of gargoyles! Demona!"

Queen of gargoyles, eh? Eagle thought. With that, the eagle-headed gargoyle prostrated himself on the earth before her.

"Cearda, what have we here?"

"A youngling without a clan, it appears."

"Rise, young one." the queen instructed him. Eagle stood. "...and state your intentions."

"I am searching for a new clan, my queen. If yours is not interested in me, then I shall depart your company none the wiser."

Cearda and Demona looked at each other. "But are you worthy of our company?"

Eagle was confused by the question. No one had ever questioned his worthiness before. Little did he know just how much he himself was going to question it in the days to come.

Without warning, Cearda attacked Eagle. Reflexively, the eagle-headed gargoyle snapped under the leaping gargoyle, and brought his tail across her face in the process. He stood to face her. They now stood in the opposite positions. His eyes were aflame.

Cearda crouched again, this time to spring lower and catch him before he could move. However, he immediately launched himself forward at her, and they met in the center.

The contest had begun.

Both were of nearly the same height and build. Cearda had a lot of strength over the eagle-headed one, but Eagle made up for it in cleverness.

Cearda stuck her foot out to deliver a blow to him as he approached, and it stuck home. He quickly batted her foot out of the way, angrily. Cearda responded with two blows to the face, and Eagle toppled backwards.

"You should have paid more attention to your lessons, brother." Cearda snarled. "Rule number one!" Suddenly, Eagle's tail snapped around both of Cearda's legs, and she slashed at them with her talons. As she did, she did not see his swing at her head. "There ARE no rules!"

The blow hit home, a blow to the face that would likely have broken a human's skull.

Cearda roared, tipping over on one foot, and slashing his mid section. His Gi tore, but the rest of him moved quickly enough. Eagle swung again, and Cearda caught it. She had an iron grip, and at first Eagle was helpless against it.

Suddenly swinging his other fist and using his spiked knees, he suddenly hit Cearda's wrist, and freed his paws from her grasp.

"Kae!" he shouted, spun around on the balls of his feet, and slammed his foot into her stomach. She responded by slashing his shirt and chest so hard it drew blood across his breast.

"Not that you have anything there to damage, anyway." Cearda shrugged.

Eagle scowled angrily. Cearda laughed.

Eagle made a sudden dive for her wings, feigning. Cearda moved, but only slightly. She stuck at him with her fist.

This Eagle grabbed her wrist and forearm, and twisted downward. He pulled back on her arm, pulling her back to him. He locked his arm around her neck, locking it with the other before Cearda could break his hold.

"I'm not waiting for you to like me, Cearda - only respect me!" Eagle pulled back with his hold, and there was a cracking noise. Eagle cursed.

At first, Eagle was afraid he what he heard was Cearda's neck. Cearda did begin to falter under his hold, but they were moving slowly now, like slow motion.

Then they turned to stone.

The first conscious thought that Eagle had, as he felt sleep leave him was to stretch. But a slight movement from his arm quickly changed his mind. His stone skin exploded off his form. He growled slightly, his grip loosening. It was all the opening Cearda needed. She leaned forward then twisted to the right, using her wings as extra impulsion; flinging the younger gargoyle off her back.

Eagle went flying.

As he finally came to a sliding stop against the opposite wall he shook his head; dazed. Suddenly there was a thump on his collarbone. He looked at the offending object and saw Cearda's foot. Her retractable razor sharp middle claw slowly bobbing up and down. If it finished it's downward swing it would pierce his artery; he would bleed to death. His eyes quickly flickered up to Cearda's face. "Well? What are you waiting for?! Finish me off!" Eagle shouted, adrenaline still pumping in his words.

Cearda held up her halberd instead, letting it begin to glow. Her eyes flashed with fire as she brought it down on Eagle's skull...

Eagle awakened with a splitting headache. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. He awakened groggily, certainly not out of stone sleep. He found himself in a stone hewn room with one brazier flaming next to the far wall. Beside the brazier was a sword.

A scream echoed from some place unknown. Eagle spun around. A cavern led off out of this room. Eagle turned back to the brazier. He found a torch behind it, and lit it in the brazier. He took the sword in one paw. Hanging from the sword was a small key.

The scream came again. Female -- in terror.

Eagle, turned, and carefully paced down the corridor in the direction of the sound.

The screams came again and again, each time differently. As Eagle moved on, he could hear chains, yelling, raucous laughter, and the sound of laser fire.

He beheld an astonishing sight. A Demona made of stone stood with a laser weapon in hand, blasting holes in humans chain on one stone wall. She was laughing and cursing the humans.

Another figure approached Demona from behind as Eagle watched. The second figure, and human woman draped in a dark cloak, raised a mace to strike at Demona. Eagle cried out, but it was too late. The mace hit Demona, and shattered the stone inside her.

Somehow this didn't make any sense to Eagle, but it did not matter now. Eagle charged forward, intent on killing this human. He took her wrist forcefully. Surprised, she spun around.

It was Tigris.

"Tigris! You... you're human!" Eagle exclaimed.

"Eagle! Isn't it wonderful? Now you can turn back into a human, and we can be together!"

"What?!! Turn back...? This is what I am! I would DIE if I were human again!"

"But please, Eagle..."

"Why did you kill Demona?" Eagle demanded, referring to the stone shards on the floor.

"She was killing my kind!"

"YOUR KIND! You belong with us! Let the humans perish!" Eagle exclaimed, waving the sword in the air with gestures.

"What has happened to you? You were human? Why can't you act like one?"

"GRARRRRRRRRRR! I'M NOT A HUMAN ANYMORE! HE WAS WEAK, CHILDISH, AND STUPID! I have grown beyond being human! You were there when Cassandra banished me from humanity!"

"You're being a fool..."

The illusion suddenly changed. Demona and Tigris stood on either side of Eagle. All their eyes were in rage. Eagle held the sword steady in his grip. Demona snarled at Tigris, and she growled back.

"Come Eagle! Let us slay her depart together!" Tigris said.

"You are a traitor, Eagle. You have no place among us!" Demona snapped back. "Unless you will break your love and kill her, I will kill you for being the human traitor you are."

"He'll have a fine time trying." Tigris snarled.

It was an illusion! Eagle knew he had to do something. Tigris had appeared as a human, he quickly reckoned - Demona had not. Eagle turned to Tigris, ready to bring his sword down on her head.

Suddenly the form of Demona shimmered and switched positions. She watched, a maliciously satisfied look on her face. "Yes, Eagle. Kill her." she hissed. Eagle stared at the Demona then stopped his downward swing. Swiftly, he turned and buried the sword into her flesh. She screamed, hands clutching at the cold steel. "Eagle..."

From behind him, Tigris began to laugh. Eagle turned and watched her; her form began to slowly expand growing larger then fell into itself her mocking laughter getting louder and louder. He turned back to the Demona. She had crumpled to the floor her bright red blood pooling under her body.

"What have I done?" he asked himself. Horrified he dropped the sword.

"Is this the extent of your love, Eagle? Is this how you see yourself?" Tears blurring his vision, Eagle turned slowly in the direction that the voice was coming from. Demona just as alive and vibrant as ever stood, wings caped around her form, behind and slightly above him. Her face reflected her sorrow of his decision. "I can not say that I am disappointed; nor can I say that I am pleased."

"Demona...!" Eagle tried to move toward her but she stopped him by raising her hand. "Do not." she said softly. "I see now, what I should have seen when I first meet you. Eagle. Matthew. You may be a gargoyle in form, but you are human in soul. You can not change what you were born as."

Eagle shook his head. "No, you're wrong. I AM a gargoyle! I have a gargoyle's soul!"

Demona smiled sadly. "You come from the flesh of a human woman-"

"She was a gargoyle! Inside, in her heart, in her soul she was a gargoyle!!!"

There was a flash of light. Cearda appeared out of the darkness, but a Cearda that Eagle had never seen before. This Cearda was ethereal, supremely beautiful. The gold jewel which was embedded into her collar flashed; the silver glowed. "My Queen." she said, greeting Demona. Next to this Cearda, this queenly Cearda, it seemed that Demona should be bowing at her feet. Eagle felt his knees go weak; slowly he sank to the floor. "Cearda?"

She didn't seem to hear him, turned to Demona. "How did the test go?" she asked.

Demona frowned. "He failed. 'Tis best just to leave him here."

Cearda glanced at Eagle; her form began to glow like fire. "He's young." she decreed. "He'll learn."

Demona snorted in distress. "But will he learn in time?"

Cearda shook her head. "I do not know. I... I can not see that far."

"What of his relation to Tutela?" Demona asked suddenly.

Cearda fell silent. She knew of Demona's contempt for the shape-changed human. "I believe that perhaps Eagle's exposure to Malcora may have nullified that."

Eagle was running. He was in a rough-hewn cave of stone. Before he knew it, he was back in the ante chamber. "Tigris!" She lay broken and bloody against the wall in the same cave they had been in moments before.

"Tigris!" he was at her side in a heartbeat. "What happened?!"

Her eyes flickered open, "Eagle..."

"Aye, Tigris-"

He felt a light squeezing from the female in his arms. "Eagle.. Listen to me. His intent wasn't to kill me, but the child I carry.

Who was this person? Eagle was determined to kill him when he found him. How had she come to be pregnant? Last Eagle knew Tigris was dead!

"Eagle if you love me, you will..." she swallowed then choked, "take the child from my body."

Eagle looked down at her in shock. "You want me to kill you?!!!"

"Better me than the child. Please Eagle! Please!"

"Tigris! No! I can't-"

"YOU MUST!"

Either save the mother and kill the child or save the child and kill the mother. Tigris arched her back as a spasm passed through her body.

"Eagle! DO IT!"

"NO! I..."

"Please!"

"Tigris...oh Tigris....please forgive me!"

With tears of pain in his eyes, he watched Tigris twitch in pain. Heart heavy, he flared his talons, set them astride Tigris's swollen belly, and drew them gently across, leaving small trails of crimson behind them.

Tigris's eye rolled back in her head, as she cried out. With a careful hand, he parted the flesh, and drew forth the pristine egg now splattered with it's mother's blood.

The dream had ended. Cearda's eyes twinkled with amusement. Demona and her wing companion seemed to be smiling at each other in a self-satisfied way. "This little battle wasn't to decide if you were loyal or not Youngling. It was simply a small skirmish to test your worthiness to fly at MY shoulder. Nothing more. Besides, you ought to remember your own vow."

Eagle looked at her uneasily, "Cassandra bound me never to take human form ever again, because with her spell she removed all trace of humankind from my blood." he gritted, holding his chin up. Cearda smiled.

"I thought so." she removed her foot and stepped back. "You do well to remember that, Youngling." she said lightly.

"Well if you two are finished." said Demona who had watched the whole exchange with amusement. "I think maybe it is time to change Eagle's name, don't you Cearda?"

Cearda gave Eagle an assessing look. "Indeed. Perhaps Iolair."

Demona nodded, smiling. "Sounds good. What do you think Eagle?"

"Whatever pleases you, my Queen." he said softly, trying to be respectful. "What does it mean?"

Demona laughed. "It means, my young friend, eagle in gaelic."

Eagle slowly picked himself off the floor and glared at the brightly colored Cearda. She ignored him. "You saved the life of a gargoyle even at the expense of the thing you love most in this world."

"Tigris." he concluded. "How can you be so cruel as to dredge up the ghost of my dead sis..."

"No, she's not dead. But that is for another day." Cearda interrupted. "Kneel before me."

Eagle looked over at Demona, and she nodded in approval. Turning to Cearda, Eagle knelt.

Cearda brandished her halberd again, and Eagle felt a twinge of anxiety. She was a fearful character with that weapon! There was a tingle of energy at it's tip, as Cearda brought it down - gently this time - on Eagle's left shoulder, and then his right.

"I dub thee Iolair, of Clann na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir."

Demona screamed. Not in fright but in exultation. "We're home!"

Cearda snapped her wings open shooting away into the darkness. Iolair was slower in opening his spread. At first the sensation of falling had thrown him off. Then Demona's scream. But now that he knew that everything was alright, he opened his wings and soared after Demona. Her face was split with the largest silliest smile he'd ever seen.

"Where are we?"

"We're in the Truif mountains. Once we sail over that ridge, you'll see our valley."

"You have a whole valley?!"

She laughed but said nothing else.

Cearda was but a bright spot on the horizon dipping and dodging in the evening sky. Iolair saw the stranger first. He wondered if he should say anything when the stranger suddenly closed his wings and dove.

"CEARDA!" he screamed. But he knew that he was too far away to be heard.

The stranger captured Cearda around her waist. She instantly closed her wings and allowed herself to be dragged down. Iolair watched the couple, glanced at Demona who didn't seem concerned, and kept his peace.

Cearda and her 'mate' fell quickly then pushed away from each other.

Both caught separate updrafts then soared one on top of the other.

"Who is that?" he asked finally.

"His name is Krieger. He's Cearda's mate."

Iolair's jaw dropped. "Mate? But I thought..."

"What she was unmated?" Demona laughed amused. "No, she has a mate. He's very young and immature but he has promise. And he's completely devoted to her; as she is to him." she shook her head a bit puzzled.

"They... love... each other. Truly love each other. I've never seen a pair-bond like it before."

She shook herself out of her revere. She pointed, "There! There's the clan!" Gargoyles of every imaginable shape and size and color appeared from caves, rocks and outcroppings. They cheered and waved.

Iolair braked in the air, slipping behind Demona in a protected maneuver. He didn't want to be mobbed again. Demona came down for a light landing. Her clan instantly surrounded her.

Words of exclamation and questions of her well being filled the air. She answered every question, touched anyone who wanted to be touched, and greeted everyone personally. Just as she was finishing up, Cearda and Krieger appeared and the whole process repeated itself.

Now that she was reunited with her mate, Cearda glowed. Her arms were wound around his waist. Krieger, Iolair quickly realized was not a small gargoyle. It wasn't just that he was tall but he was massive. A muscle bound cretin was his first impression, but Krieger was too light on his feet.

At almost seven feet tall, Krieger exuded prescience. It was amazing that Cearda wasn't swallowed up by him but she had her own presence which was greater than Krieger's. Cearda's young mate took after her at least physically in the fact that he had a very unusual color Gold. Not sparkly gold but yellowed bone gold. Iolair had never seen a gold gargoyle before. Then again he'd never seen a red-gold gargoyle before Cearda either.

Krieger's most intriguing feature though were his wings. They folded. Completely folded and rested against his back. Iolair had never seen wings like that either. Cearda nuzzled her face into Krieger's long black hair, becoming lost in it.

Demona watched the couple then held out her arms for silence. The clan quickly obeyed. "My faithful! We have returned; our sabbatical successful! We return to you rested, refreshed, and whole. We bring Iolair to the clan. Iolair has proven himself trustworthy and loyal. He has also proven himself worthy to fly on Cearda's left side. Welcome him."

Slowly the clan turned to study the newest member of Clann na Ochter Oidhche Bheithir.

"Hi." blurted Iolair, embarrassed.

"Greetings." answered a young female. She looked Iolair over then held out her hand. "I am Char."

Iolair gladly took her hand. He could feel the other gargoyle's eyes on him, but tried not to let it phase him.

Demona noticed Char. "Youngling, would you see to Iolair's integration into the clan? Show him the ropes?"

"I would be honored, My Queen."

Char showed him the rookery, a cave with such a narrow mouth that he had trouble entering. But once inside he gasped. All around him laying on the floor were gargoyle eggs.

"Wow!"

"They are the future of the clan." said Char softly.

"When will they hatch?"

"Soon. Come, I am sure Demona will want to have a big hunt to celebrate her return. You really have to meet Bogamil."

"Bogamil?" He followed her out of the cave.

She spread her wings, took a running start and was flung into the sky. "Come on Iolair!" she urged. He copied her movement and soon found himself gliding on a tremendous updraft. Char lead him to away to the east. When she signaled for him to land he waited till she was down before joining her.

"Where are we?" he asked confused.

"Bogamil's cave. Come quietly." she stressed.

Carefully, she clamored inside, caped her wings and looked around. The sound of water dripping, the howl of the wind, and a deep thrum were the only greeting they got.

"BOGAMIL!" yelled Char. "Bogamil! Where are you? It's me, Char!"

The thrumming stopped, then: "Char?"

A deep huffing sound. "And a stranger. Does this mean Demona has returned?"

Char motioned to Iolair to follow her. "Yes. I brought the New One to meet you."

There was a scraping sound then the clatter of falling rocks. "Good, I like company. Have you told him about me?"

"No, not yet." she answered. Grinning she turned to a very bewildered Iolair. "Iolair, I am pleased to present you to Bogamil the Red Dragon of Isht."

Eyes wide, Iolair turned and saw from around an outcropping of rocks a red head. A horse's head. A chestnut horse with a lightening jag of a blaze down his face. The horse snorted then came out from behind the rock.

"Helloa! I am Bogamil."

"I thought you were a dragon?"

The stallion tossed his head amused. "I am. Come look into the pool."

Iolair followed the horse to a shallow pool and looked at the reflected images. One his own and the other... A large towering red dragon with a lightening jag down his face.

Iolair looked at the horse then back at the dragon in the pool.

"I don't wear the dragon shape all the time." said Bogamil.

"Sometimes I am an eagle, sometimes a red dog, sometimes I wear the man shape."

The red stallion turned to Char, "Well if Demona's back she'll want to celebrate. Would it be too much to ask that you bring me back a scrap of food?"

Char rolled her eyes, "Bogamil, you know you don't even need ask!"

"Well the last ones to beg my protection were very forgetful. I finally had to eat them. It never hurts to ask. So, it doesn't have to be anything choice just a little meat is all I ask."

Char gave him an exasperated look. "You know Demona personally will bring you back a whole cow, Bogamil!"

The red stallion tossed Iolair an amused look. "I like to pull her tail." he confided.

"Welcome to the clan Iolair, welcome."

The remainder of the evening was anything but dull. He met many gargoyles, from different lands, with different stories to tell. Char showed him their demesne. However, she lost track of Iolair as morning neared. The first lights of day were already in the sky when she found him.

He was seated on a rock, facing the direction of the rising sun. His head was in his hands, which rested on his knees. He had a quiet, thoughtful look on his face.

"There you are."

"A pleasant morning to you, sister." He smiled, as he turned to greet her.

"Why so thoughtful?"

He turned back to the approaching dawn. "I apologize if I seem to be distracted. I was recently reminded of someone I lost several years ago... someone who was... very dear to me."

"I'm sorry."

Iolair shrugged, and was quiet.

Cearda whirled around quickly, the feathers on her wings all abristle.

"You're not listening to what I am trying to tell you! We can't just do this! Think of the clan! What will we do if your plan fails?! We don't have another leader!"

"You will lead after me." came the calm reply. Cearda snarled her tail trashed left and right. "I couldn't! I won't!"

"You will. It's what I've been grooming you for, all these years."

Cearda let her wings fold against her back. "Ok...ok. So I'll lead. What should I do? If you're dead, and the Black God has decided to pursue us, and the world is blanketed in an eternal night what should I do?"

Her antagonist cocked his head then said sheepishly, "I don't know." he groaned suddenly.

"Gods Cearda! Can we rest now? I am getting tired of playing Demona for you!"

Cearda unfurled her wings. "Ok, sure." she said sourly. She stomped over to Krieger and collapsed by his side hissing softly. "I can't believe this! You want me to stand up to her! Her! I've never done such a thing! That I trust her to do what's right for the clan; to put the clan before everything else is understood! I don't really believe that she's going to do this."

Kreiger reached out, picked Cearda up and drew her into his arms. He kissed her pale cream colored hair and smiled. "I know you don't. But actions speak louder than words my love. She knows where the mountain is now. She will go there and maybe endanger all of us. I know she endangers the next generation. It would really be a great tragedy if we lost the eggs now."

Cearda leaned back against Kreiger's chest. "I know..." she said softly. "I fear. I fear that if I do this... she will lose respect for me. That she will think I've turned against her. That I'll be banished. I've seen her kill for less."

Kreiger's wings came around her. "We will talk to her tomorrow night. We must. She must think this thing through carefully. She must not be allowed to release the Black God without knowing the full extent of his power!" He raised a lock of her hair; pressed a kiss to the area just under her ear.

"Talking about power..." he murmured.

Iolair could sense something was wrong the moment he awoke.

The sun had set below the mountains, and Iolair suddenly roared. Char snarled beside him, almost in echo. Iolair was sprawled out where he had been tossed down, and scratched the back of his neck with his talons. They were in the rookery, where the sun had ended their work of turning eggs the previous night.

Char nodded. "Cearda wants to see you."

Iolair nodded. "Was there anything else?"

Char was about to say something, but when she realized she had forgotten what, she made a motion of brushing him away with her paw. Ioliar bowed with a sweep of his wings, and turned. He was about to leave, but stopped before leaving the rookery. He turned one pristine egg over, then left.

Char hid her grin behind her paw.

Having failed to find Cearda in her and Kreiger's domain, he went exploring down the familiar paths and passageways which Char had shown him. There was a lot of territory to cover, so what he could do by air, he did.

There was something odd in the air, and the teal gargoyle couldn't quite place it. On a particularly long stretch, Iolair touched down in a thicket as a fierce microburst blew overhead, rather than weather the freaky weather on the wing.

He found a small thicket of small white flowers. Portula or possibly Jasmine. With a mourning sense of loss, he selected a few of the flowers, and began to twine their stems together as the winds roared over head. He covered his head and his work with his wings, and braided a small crown out of the flowers.

He'd woven this pattern many times. In the freakish way the mind does, his thoughts suddenly recalled an old tune he had sung in his youth as he would play among ferns and flowers with Tigris at his side.

Oh ever joyful

our days may be

and all the starlight

we may see

take all view before thee

and the days grown darker

into night.

Iolair's slight smile faded, and the contemplation left him. Moments like this made him consider why on earth he was doing this. Why did he choose to serve such a difficult master? He had been placed in this place and time for a purpose, and he knew that it's fulfillment lay before him. It had cost him Tigris. What on earth could be so terribly important for him to be here?

Iolair would stay, he decided, because he belonged here. He had a mission to destroy the humans, and besides - a gargoyle does not just pick up and leave.

The winds had died down, and Iolair picked up his wreath of flowers as he took to the sky again, following his glide in the stiller air.

When he noticed Cearda and Kreiger inside the cleft of a nearby cleft, he panicked and attempted to place the wreath into his satchel. Cearda noticed him, and signaled, and Iolair came to rest before her. He bowed.

"You sent for me, milady?" he asked.

Cearda noticed the wreath of flowers half hanging from his satchel, and entertained several bemused thoughts. "We will be leading a special expedition into the mountains on a quest. You will follow."

Iolair bowed.

Kreiger smiled at Cearda, touched her chin once, and turned to go. He walked past Iolair, nodding, who, in turn, added a respectful "Milord..."

Cearda hardly spared Iolair a glance, as she trailed an updraft that Iolair had been following a moment before, to go off to the place to meet Demona for this small expedition to the dark mountain.

They were several minutes airborne before they encountered Demona. Cearda greeted Demona, and Iolair bowed. Demona turned to Iolair.

"Where is Char?"

Iolair was puzzled. "My queen?"

Demona carefully worded her reply, certain not to mention the words he did not need to hear. "She has... skills that I need on this journey. Bring her along."

Cearda and Iolair shared nervous glances, and took the air again, to return in the direction they had come. Demona returned to her book, carefully marking the phrase. The phrase that demanded one of her own kind in order to awaken her quarry.

The blood sacrifice.

Upon returning to the caves, one of the companions looked up in surprise before all the others. "Cearda! Back so soon? We were not expecting..."

"We forgot something." Cearda noted. "Where is Char?"

"You might ask Kreiger. He was looking for her."

Iolair was puzzled. What would Kreiger want with Char. For the moment both gargoyles shrugged it off.

The rookery doors were closed when they arrived, and the eggs were perfectly sound. Why shouldn't they be, Cearda reasoned.

"There." Iolair pointed out, referring to another passageway connecting to the rookery.

A high pitched scream filled the air.

Char's scream.

Iolair broke out into a run, following the voice. Cearda was behind him immediately, but had a strangely calm expression upon her beaked features.

"No! No stop! Leave me alone! Ah!" Came her cries. Iolair's eyes were enraged.

"Sister!" He exclaimed as her turned the last corner... Cearda found Iolair had not entered the room, only hung back in horror, one paw over his mouth, shaking in fear.

Cearda turned the corner herself.

Char burst from the room, and swung behind Iolair, holding his shoulders, crouching behind him in fear.

She was naked, and covered in the deep marks of claws that had been trying to hold her.

Cearda saw Char's tunic in the center of the chamber, torn apart. There, Krieger faced them, his loincloth on the floor, sweating, and Char's blood on his hands.

Char was trembling, and Krieger's eyes were radiant. "Keep him away from me..." she whispered in pleading.

Iolair snarled. "Don't tell me this has something to do with the continued protection of gargoyles..."

Cearda's eyes shuttered. "The blood sacrifice..." she murmured. Iolair looked over his shoulder and watched stupefied as Cearda reached out and grabbed Char's arms.

"Wait!! What are you doing?!" he demanded.

"Stay out of this youngling." Cearda said softly.

Char began to struggle.

"No!!" screamed Iolair. Then he turned toward Krieger, who was advancing on him swiftly. He never even saw the fist that smashed into his jaw.

Roaring in surprise and pain, Iolair was spun around and hit the floor of the cave with a thud.

"Iolair!" screamed Char.

Cearda pulled back on her arms. "Sleep young one....sleep." Char's struggles lessened then she went limp.

"I've got her. You grab him." said Cearda softly. She watched her mate, admiring the sleek lines of his physique. She knew exactly what he had been doing, or trying to do.

Krieger growled softly. "Are you sure that we're doing the right thing?"

Cearda shook her head and kept a tight hold on Char. "No. But as long as the eggs are safe... the clan... us... do we really have a choice? Are we not the two most loyal followers Demona has?"

He gave a very disparaging snort then bent and flung the unconscious form of Iolair over his shoulders again.

"I am just afraid...that's all. "

Cearda followed him out of the rookery. "Me too."

Iolair woke with a splitting head ache. He tried to rise and found himself bound. He gasped and began to look around. He was chained to a rock. Before him was a crudely constructed alter and lying upon it still naked yet peaceful was... "CHAR!!!"

"Ah...the sleeper has awakened." said a smooth silky voice.

A voice he knew all too well. He turned the best that he could and saw.

"Demona! What is the meaning of all this?!"

The red maned gargoyle gave him an insipid smile. "What this?" she passed a hand over Char's lax form. " 'tis but a blood offering to the Black God, that's all."

"Black God? What...what's going on!"

Cearda, halberd in hand, came forward. "Demona is to summon the Black God Chernobog. Father of all gargoyles. It is her belief that Chernobog will grant us the right to take over this world and be masters of it once more - slaying all our enemies."

Iolair stared at Cearda wildly. "And you would use her blood to do so?!" Cearda didn't even spare Char a glance. "She's young... we need the blood of a young gargoyle, and the pure soul of a righteous gargoyle." They turned and looked straight at Iolair. "You're soul."

Iolair gasped and shrank back. "Then that's why you brought me here. That's why I went through all the testing... I thought you really cared for me!!!"

Demona moved forward and reached out to touch him.

"We do, Iolair...we do. In your selfless sacrifice to Chernobog we will show you exactly how much we care."

Cearda's air of confidence shimmered a bit. She glanced at her mate. He seemed upset. Demona looked down at Iolair a few moments more then smiling went back to her place at the alter.

"Demona! Don't do this!!" Iolair screamed.

"It's not up to you, Youngling. This is our destiny!! You wanted to help us destroy humanity - NOW is your chance!"

She opened her spellbook, took a long wickedly curved blade, and began to chat.

The words of the spell meant nothing to Iolair; he couldn't make out the language. But Demona didn't seem to have any trouble with them. As she read, Cearda and Krieger made the correct responses at the correct times.

From the ring of stone around them flickers of black flame exploded into existence.

"Undi Kerkorot Sumtee Ergrok." Demona implored.

She put the book down and spread out her arms. "To the God of Darkness we give unto you this sacrifice. Take of it and nourish yourself. We beg thee to return to us! Return to your children!"

The black flames roared emitting a stale black smoke. The smoke instead of floating upwards sank down. It slithered along the ground then wrapped itself around the three participants of the rite.

The wind howled yet it did not disturb the smoke. The wall of smoke and flames rose higher and higher till Iolair could see nothing else. There was a scream in the darkness.

"DEMONA!!!"

"Cearda! Stop!"

"NOOOOOOO!"

There was a flash of black light then everything went away. Iolair looked away then squinted back to the place where the rite had taken place.

There was the alter, empty now. There was Cearda hunting desperately for something. And there was Krieger trying to hold her back so frantic was she in her search.

Of Demona...there was no trace.

Demona knew only two things. One she wasn't dead. Two, she didn't know exactly where she was. She tried to push herself up, for she was lying on her stomach on cool stones. She wasn't really strong enough and a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over her. She took a sniff of the air. Stale and full of sulfur; the smell of rotten eggs. She gagged.

Then she heard the rumbling. A loud long rumbling sigh. Then the sound of tree branches being broken, a slurping sound, a sucking sound. She looked up. Her nocturnal eyes able to make out a form in the darkness.

A massive black shape that moved.

It turned...Demona gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. It was He. Chernobog, the Black God. Never in her life had she seen such evil personified. Never!

Chernobog rose something to his mouth and bit down. Nausea like she had never known before grabbed her. She began to heave but there was nothing in her stomach. She tried to look away but was unsuccessful.

He was eating Char...

Kreiger grabbed Cearda's arms and spun her around to face him. "Cearda! Cearda! Stop it!"

Cearda tired to battle her way free. "I've got to find her! I just have too!"

"We will!!" said Krieger. "We'll find her! We-"

"You're in trouble that's what." said Iolair. "Trouble and there's only one way to get help."

Krieger turned on the chained gargoyle in a rage, eyes lit.

"Shut up! I know that! And the first thing to do is..." he reached out, took the chains in his hands, then snapped the links. "Free you."

Iolair rubbed at his wrists and looked at the gold gargoyle in suspicion.

"What about your wonderful dreams of conquering Char?" he sneered.

Cearda's hands worked on the shaft of her halberd. "They weren't his dreams. Demona... she knew that! And now she's gone! Iolair... help us... please!" Iolair took in the turmoiled face of she who he thought was his equal and knew in his soul that he was far far better than she.

"I'll help you any way I can." he said finally. "What kind of spell did you use?"

Cearda let out a small gasp of surprise. Her eyes lit with pleasure and new resolve. If he would have let her, she would have hugged him. She bent and picked up Demona's spell book. "It's in here." she said handing it to him.

Krieger went to his mate's side and stood beside her; his wing curled around her. Iolair opened the book and began to look a the text. "Strange... I've never seen this language before. Did humans write this?" Cearda shook her head. "No. For the tales we were told, it was written by gargoyles."

Iolair looked at her, "Are you serious?! That's not possible! Gargoyles do not write!"

"I know. But that's what we were told. That this book is in the Mother tongue. The language all of us should know. I'd never heard it before. Demona, though, was able to pick it up quite easily."

Iolair screwed up his face in concentration and tried to make sense of the words on the pages.

"Well looks like I showed up right in time." said a jolly voice.

Instantly Cearda came out of her depression. Krieger went instantly into battle readiness.

Iolair threw the book down and turned toward the threat.

The "threat" slowly came around the last of the rocks and into full view. A small wizened old man with rosy cheeks and a jolly face came up the path. He was dressed in a green cloak. His leggings the finest Iolair had ever seen. He wore a small pack on his back and held in his right hand a staff of yew wood.

"Who are you?!" exclaimed Iolair.

The little man swept the pack off his back and then sat down on it. He crossed his legs non-pulsed by the sight of the gargoyles. "My name is Byela. I've come to help you." Cearda's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe the arrogance of this little man. Besides that...how had he found them?

"How did you know we were here?"

Byela took a pipe out of a pouch on his belt. He filled the bowl then lit it. He took a few puffs letting the smoke wreath around his head. "I saw the fires. I'd been waiting for the fires." he said softly. He shook out his leggings. "But that's not the important part. The most important part is you must trust me. If you don't your Queen will die."

Cearda, who had begun to calm down, suddenly flared her wings and began to hackle. "What do you know of Demona?" she demanded.

Byela smiled his enigmatic smile. "Enough."

Iolair seeing that if pushed any farther, Cearda was going to attack took up the line of questioning. "What do we have to do?"

Byela turned his blue eyes toward the younger gargoyle. "You have to trust me."

"HA!!" scoffed Cearda. "I wouldn't trust a human-"

The little man smiled then chuckled. "Who says I am human?" He looked at the gargoyle with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. He then brushed his hair past his ears, revealing large, long, pointed ears.

Cearda's jaw dropped.

Trembling, Demona slowly climbed to her feet and stood tall in front of the Black God. He slurped the last remnants of his meal into his mouth.

"My Daughter." he rumbled. "You brought a gift and now you will ask for a boon, yes?"

Demona blinked. She stated to shake uncontrollably in the face of this evil. "My... my... Sire." she began. "I work for your release..."

Chernobog turned his luminescent eyes toward her. The large pupil-less orbs studied her. The wide blood smeared mouth quirked upwards and he began to smile.

"Do you?" he asked. The darkness that surrounded him shifted, enfolded him. He disappeared. Demona cast about wildly looking for him.

The shadows suddenly belched forth life. Chernobog wearing the form of the gargoyle. He had the large horns of a bull sprouting from his brow. His wings though dominated all. He was as black as the shadows that had birthed him.

He was also naked clothed only in dark secrets...

He walked forward slowly his white eyes shining.

"You brought the gift... and you brought yourself. As my summoner you must hold great knowledge of the outside world." He reached out and touched the underside of her breast.

She flinched but didn't move away.

His hand moved over her breast, covered it, his thumb brushing over the crest. "You will serve me well young one. Old though you may think you are, I am far...far older."

Paralyzed she could only watch as he drew her into his darkness; dragged her down into the blackness of his evil. In the end she embraced him with trembling arms.

"CEARDA?!!!"

"Don't blame her that you became involved with this!" Byela almost laughed. "I'm the one who got you into this."

"What...?" Iolair held his head in confusion. "I still don't see why I..."

"There's only two that could go, and the Black God would react totally different for me, leaving you." Cearda added, in explanation.

Iolair sighed, and took the bag over his shoulder. "There's something basically wrong with this agreement that I can't put a talon on." he sighed, looking suspiciously at Kreiger.

Stepping to the edge of the cleft, he hoisted the bag, and rose into the rising night sky, gliding toward the dark mountain in the distance.

Cearda and Byela watched him glide away. "Are you sure this is wise?" Cearda inquired.

"He has a weapon you shall never bear again, Cearda. He is naive."

On the edge of a realm of darkness, Iolair entered the caves, hugging the cord to the bag closer. His skin felt pricked and frozen by the feel of the air. He stepped inside, brushing the spiderwebs aside.

He entered a world of blackened stone. It was so dark, so barren. It was cold even for a gargoyle, but still he continued onward. The rock turned black, and Iolair released all he had to do now was find what he was looking for and leave!

Suddenly, he stopped. In this intense dark, his night eyes made out something small on the floor that had been warm not very long ago.

There was a small bead on the floor, not much larger than a rose petal. Char had used them to braid her hair...

Char was dead!

The realization was like a slap of cold ice to his emotions. Frightened, he tripped over a loose black stone. Gingerly, he picked it up and dropped it into his bag.

Iolair stepped down to pick up the bead, when suddenly it vanished from before him. Iolair looked up.

Before him was the most ominous shape of darkness he had ever seen. No light came from him, a living shadow. Iolair gasped, and began to back away.

A giant taloned hand caught him up into the air. "Oh, stop sniveling, you little coward. Stop shaking like a frightened little girl."

Iolair could not move in the strong grip, but instead turned to his magic to try and protect him, drawing on everything he had.

"Is this one of any use?"

"No, though others would convince me otherwise." said a familiar voice.

Iolair was startled. "Demona?"

All he could see was the black shape of the thing or things holding him.

"Then begone from here! The next time you step foot here you shall be my prisoner."

With that, Iolair was flung out away from the mountain.

When Kreiger saw the ball of fire streak away from the dark mountain, he thought that it was some sort of fire meant to kill them. However, when Iolair emerged from those flames, screaming in a high pitched voice, there was suddenly another need altogether.

Catch him, before he hits his head and addles his brains again!, Kreiger thought.

Kreiger caught him neatly, sliding across the stone cliff face about a ten yards. Iolair dizzily pushed him away, and threw the bag down, before collapsing to his knees. His teal skin was burnt black and flaking away, and he was shaking.

Kreiger laughed. "There now! That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Iolair just lay on the ground shivering, and did not reply. Cearda reached down, grabbed his shoulders, and looked at him - startled. Something was wrong - he was different, changed somehow. His hips were to large, his chest too round, his hair had turned from brown to blonde, and his teal skin looked more green than teal.

"GREAT STARS, IOLAIR! YOU'RE FEMALE!"

Iolair blinked, and touched her breasts with her paw. Her eyes widened, and that same paw searched the space between her legs. After a moment of realization, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she fainted.

Kreiger saw, and nearly laughed. "Well! If that don't beat all!" he chuckled.

Cearda was not amused. "He let his guard down, and the Dark God has touched him. As if he hasn't been through enough..."

"I wouldn't worry about that right now." Byela noted. "Chernobog was merely twitching his whiskers. That boy is strong, he can handle even this for as long as it takes, but we must act now."

Cearda took up the sack, and retrieved the black stone Iolair had stolen. "His sacrifice seems to have been for a good cause. A perfect one."

Byela looked Cearda in the eye. "Now you must begin the spell."

Cearda looked suspicious, but took her halberd, touched it to the black stone, and furrowed her brows in concentration.

Kreiger looked from the once-more unconscious form of Iolair, back to the domain of the black god. This was only the beginning of this battle, he decided.

He turned back to Byela. "Hey old man!" he said. The Elder arched a brow at the impetuous gargoyle in inquiry. "Why did the Chernobog let Iolair go? I thought he needed his soul to escape the dark realms?" Byela shrugged. "Who knows how that Dark God's mind works?" he said puffing on his pipe.

Krieger crouched down next to Iolair and looked at him... no... now HER! He gave a soft snort of laughter. Well he hadn't been expecting this! Cearda, who had been murmuring her spell, now began chanting louder and louder - sweat breaking out on her brow. Suddenly her eyes snapped open. They shined blood red. She herself took on a faint blackish glow which extended from the stone. She raised her halberd then struck it against the stone. The stone gave one flash then silently split apart into multiple pieces. As it shattered a scream of multiple voices rent the air. Kreiger slapped his hands to his ears. Cearda fell to her knees gasping, braced on her halberd to keep from falling on her face.

Byela emptied his pipe, stood up and picked up one of the small stones. "Yes... these will do nicely." he smiled. "Well done m'lady." Cearda gave him a very insincere smile. Krieger took his hands away from his ears which were still ringing.

"Ok...we have two female gargoyles...an old man...a young virile male gargoyle...and a whole bunch of little black stones! So what do all of these ingredients make?" Byela slipped his pipe back into his pouch then smiled at Krieger.

"Trouble for Chernobog." he said. "Come all of you. I am prescribed from stepping on the land of Chernobog so you three must continue with this fight."

Cearda glared at the little old man. "The sun will rise soon! We'll be of no help to you." Beyla took out three long strands of leather from his pouch and proceeded to twine one black stone to each piece of leather. He tied a final knot in the leather to form a crude neckless. "Yes." he agreed, "the sun will rise, but you'll not sleep today. I can not afford it. Here take the neckless and for the first time in your life witness the power of the sungod!"

Cearda looked at the neckless suspiciously then slipped it over her head. Krieger practically grabbed the other two necklaces out of Byela's hands. He put one around Iolair's neck then gulping, he slipped the other over his head. He expected some sort of pain or something but nothing happened. He frowned and looked at Byela doubtfully. "Are you sure these things are going to work?"

Byela nodded. "They'll work. I can only hope that you're night eyes are adaptable to sunlight. Now all you have to do is get Chernobog to leave his prison. When he sees the light he'll be powerless and we can destroy him." he shrugged. "Then again he'll not be totally destroyed... there can not be light without darkness... nor darkness without light."

Cearda rolled her eyes and struggled to her feet. "Ok fine! We go to the mountain, somehow bribe this Dark God into following us into the sunlight, and....then what? AND! How do we get him to follow us to the surface?"

Byela hefted his pack, checked his boot lacings, and began to walk down the mountain path. "Don't worry. I'll help you. As for how do you get the Dark God's attention?" he spared the still unconscious Iolair a glance... "You use bait."

Krieger looked at Iolair then the truth slammed into him. His jaw dropped open.

"NO WAY!" he exclaimed. He gave his mate a lamenting look. "Do I have to carry her?"

Cearda glared alternating between the retreating Byela to the form of Iolair. Her jaw working as she ground her teeth in silent rage. She snapped her wings open, whirled away with her beloved halberd clutched in her hands. "Bring her!" she snarled. 'You better be as desirable as Byela thinks you are!' she thought. 'I also hope Demona is ok. Oh....Deathless....if I ever needed your strength it's now!'

"Do you want to know what my theory is?" Byela seemed to note, in an almost comical way that seemed totally outside of what they knew of him.

"No." Kreiger grunted. "But I have a feeling I'm about to hear it anyway." He shifted the weight of he unconscious gargoyle on his shoulders.

"I suspect Chernobog has himself occupied with something for the moment that made him forget how much he wanted out for just a moment. I imagine he will remember once her grows bored again."

Cearda scowled. "If it's Demona or Char he's entertaining himself with..." she made a fist.

"Char's dead." a voice whispered.

Kreiger dropped Iolair, who winced as she struggled to bring herself into consciousness.

"What?" Cearda asked.

"The dark god consumed her." Iolair shivered.

Byela stopped walking, and returned to where they had thrown the other down. He looked up to the sky. "We might as well wait here for the sun to rise."

Iolair tried to rub the blackness off his hands, but only succeeded in peeling his skin away. Frustrated, Kreiger picked Iolair up by the shoulders, and tossed her into a pool of water by the wayside. It was deep enough to immerse parts of her, and she used the muddy water to clean herself off. The skin fell away. When quite satisfied, Iolair stood up and returned toward their group. The leather loincloth he had worn before the only article of clothing that had survived, and she was topless.

Cearda fumed off.

"Where are you going?" Kreiger called after her.

"To kill something to dress her in. She deserves that much at least." she returned angrily, and continued away.

Iolair had not paid any attention to this exchange. She was standing by Byela and she were watching the east, as the sun was touching the tops of the mountains.

Kreiger looked at it with eyes wide. Iolair seemed to be awed the scene just as much as he.

"Haven't you seen the sun before?"

"Yes." she replied. "But not with these eyes."

Kreiger touched the gargoyle on the arm. She flinched away from his touch like hot coals. "What?" he asked defensively.

"Stay away from me."

"I do not mean you any harm, Iolair."

"And Char? Am I to be your next blood sacrifice?" she mocked him.

"I was only trying..."

"Ritual murder, ritual rape, ritual suicide, EVERYTHING IS ACCEPTABLE IN THIS BLASTED CLAN OF YOURS, ISN'T IT?!!!"

"I meant nothing of the sort!"

Iolair pointed a talon at him. "You are nothing but lust given form!" she accused. Hastily she turned about, as if ready to make a hasty retreat, but she found herself face to face with Cearda. Both were startled at her sudden reappearance. Cearda appeared about ready to strangle Iolair, but Byela turned Cearda and Kreiger aside.

"Enough childplay, both of you."

Iolair moved on again, heading toward the darklands.

The others followed. "A hundred years without a mate," Kreiger noted with sarcasm, "and he becomes a woman. A b..."

"SILENCE!" Cearda shouted at her mate. Ahead, where they could not see, Iolair scowled.

"Every woman has her own unique first day in heat. I ought to know." Byela observed, quickening the pace. "We need her, and I can't have you running her off."

"Demona is too important right now." Cearda affirmed.

"Very well, my love." Kreiger affirmed with a sigh.

The walk toward the cave took little time. Clueless as to what was about to happen, she waited until the group was once again reformed. When she was not expecting, Kreiger closed the shackles around Iolair's wrists.

She suddenly cried out in alarm. "Kreiger! Cearda!"

Iolair pulled against the shackles frantically. Cearda's jaw worked angrily. "I'm... sorry... Iolair... ...there was no other way."

Cearda and Kreiger holding her on each side, they forced her inside.

There was complete darkness within. The sense of evil was everywhere. Even Byela had not come this far, remaining outside. Iolair shivered, dreading a second encounter, remembering the dark god's threat to her.

The dark form was precisely where Cearda expected it to be. But, there was another beside it, a massive black frame with Demona's face...

Cearda nearly lost her concentration, but luckily held it. That was what had made Iolair loose his concentration. Keeping a grip on herself, she and Kreiger thrust Iolair down onto the floor before the dark god.

"CHERNOBOG!" she demanded. "We have brought what you craved. Speak with your children!"

A dark hand reached down, and took up the trembling gargoyle by her chains. The single talon spilt her clothes apart, which fell down to the ground beside Char's.

"Yes... very good."

Iolair screamed.

Through the link of the dark stones that she had retrieved, Iolair felt Cearda's disgust.

~Oh will you quit your whining!' she demanded.

Startled, Iolair quieted down for a heartbeat, looked at Cearda who stood in obedience to the Black God, and realized that she had spoken by telepathy.

~Cearda?

~Yes youngling. Apparently we can communicate this way. Now hush. There is much to do and not a lot of time. Be still.

Iolair gulped then turned her face back to Chernobog.

The Black God looked at the quivering form of Iolair pleased. "You have done very well my Daughter." he praised Cearda. Then shook Iolair who began to whimper again.

"Sleep." Chernobog commanded.

Iolair's eye lids grew heavy, her breathing deepened, then her head fell forward. Satisfied, Chernobog laid her down on the dark stone floor. "Such innocence. Such purity." he grunted. "I will harvest your soul later."

He turned his attention to Cearda and Krieger.

"My children. You do well to help your Sire."

He placed an outstretched hand over Cearda's head, preparing to pick her up.

At her throat, the Stone of Long Life flared with golden light. It illuminated Cearda making the red-gold gargoyle look like living flame. It struck out at the darkness that was Chernobog. He jerked his hand away hissing in displeasure.

"So...mystic." he let the word fall from his mouth like a curse. "You don't need me or my power."

Cearda clutched a hand over the Stone, damping it's rebellious flare. "It was a gift, Great One. From another of your Daughters. It...it...holds great sentimental value for me."

Chernobog scowled, "It also holds great power."

The large opaque eyes turned from her to Krieger. The younger male flinched, his wings trembled slightly with his suppressed terror. With a snarl of spite, the Dark God reached out to pluck the young gargoyle up.

"DO NOT!" shouted Cearda. She sprang into action, twirling her halberd around and bringing it down onto Chernobog's wrist. If the halberd had not been a magical blade, Chernobog probably wouldn't have felt it, but as it was he grunted in pain as the halberd sank easily into his wrist. It slid out just as easily when Chernobog jerked his hand away.

He glared at Cearda who realized the import of what she had just done. She felt fear claw at her throat. Then she swallowed, brought her chin up, and gave the Dark God a flat glare. "I told you; Do not touch him." Chernobog's face gave away nothing. He sat back bringing his huge tail around to curl around his waist.

For the first time, with the light from the Stone, Cearda was able to clearly see Chernobog. He was indeed a Black... gargoyle. He looked exactly like a gargoyle! His eyes were arresting; capturing your attention. Drawing you in till you forgot where you were. From his brow sprouted horns, like a bull. A huge, impossible rack that stretched out then curved inwards and up. He wore nothing but shadows and in those shadows, rising and falling with his every breath, were a span of wings that were so immense that he could wrap his whole body away in them. She could see nothing else; the shadows were too dark.

Chernobog's tail twitched. "What else have you brought to me as Tribute?" Cearda lowered her halberd then realized exactly how stupid it was to expect an attack from him. He could easily kill her if he wished. But she knew that it would be a costly victory for him.

"We could not bring much of anything, Father. But below, on a mountain side, there is the rest of the clan. Mayhaps they will satisfy you." The Black gargoyle's tail twitched,

"I will need their combined life-force to truly escape this pit." He looked around then rose up. "Very well. Since you three are blood and bone, I can assume that it is still nightfall outside. I will go."

Cearda bowed her head to him in a show of deference.

~Cearda...

The red-gold gargoyle looked up startled. She looked at the large shadowed body with Demona's face.

~My Queen?

~Cearda...' The voice, Demona's voice, sounded faint and on the edge of hysteria.

~Help me. I....I...'

~We are, my Queen. Have faith. We will free you.' Demona's emotions roiled from blind panic to gut wrenching despair.

~I was a fool. A fool. Please Cearda...help me.'

~I have always trusted in you Demona. Trust in me now.' She turned away and started toward the tunnel, Krieger at her heels. As she started down the tunnel she half turned, "My Lord, don't forget Iolair." she said

Chernobog, glanced at the sleeping gargoyle, and picked her up as if it was an afterthought. "Go my Daughter. I'll follow. You, my Dearest" he looked at Demona, "Come with me."

Cearda scrambled up the stone pathway with Krieger pushing her. Upon reaching the top she turned slightly and helped him out. "I HATE IT IN THERE!" he said.

Quickly, she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh Beloved! Don't worry! All will be well. Look!" She pointed at the sun. It was slowly being covered up by the moon.

"What sort of magic is that?!" he asked shocked and bewildered.

"Must be Beyla. Come, quickly! We must make room." And indeed they did! The stone shook, then exploded outwards. The two gargoyles took to the air. Forcing his head and shoulders through though the small opening, Chernobog made his first appearance into the free world in millennia.

He took in a great lungful of air then let it out again. "AHHHHH! Freedom! It has been too long!"

"And it will be much longer before you get free again!" called a voice.

Cearda angled over, slicing through the air then suddenly backwinged as she came face to face with the second largest gargoyle she thought she'd ever seen. But instead of being black it was white. Iridescently white, glowing white; an immense white star of a gargoyle.

She closed her wings and tumbled head over tail to a lower elevation. Krieger saw the white gargoyle and he too backwinged. "WHOA!" he shouted.

"Where the heck did that thing come from!?"

The white gargoyle or Byelanbog, as Cearda knew him to be, flared his wings to their fullest. "Come forth Brother! Come forth and face your jailer and warden!" Snarling, Chernobog forced the rest of his body through the small opening, taking to the air to battle the White God!

There was a titanic clash as two massive fronts, one brighter than noon-day sun, the other darkest than the deepest night, collided with colossal fury. The sounds of rage, fury, snarling, and anger reverberated underhill. The smell of blood was thick in the air.

Such were the conditions Demona witness upon leaving the cavern. Her thoughts tumbled about and fed upon themselves, as she watched in utter bafflement as the day and the night collided.

She could almost sense the moves Chernobog would make before he would make them... almost as if she were fighting the battle...

Don't go with him! Cearda's voice resounded in her mind.

Wha... what?

You were starting to let your thoughts be possessed by him. Keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself, or else you will never be free!

Demona tried not to think about Chernobog, but found her thoughts arrested in him... without mercy... utterly able to kill... a sleek warrior... evil given form...

STOP! Cearda commanded again.

She couldn't! Her thoughts were not her own!

A sudden, retching pain shot through her for a moment, as she and Cearda both saw and realized Chernobog was being driven back. Demona felt her body constricting inward against itself, tighter and tighter.

The fury of the battle heated still. Chernobog was thrown backwards by the heat of that last hit, leaving him on the ground. He sprung for the jugular, but was pounded by the force of this great white being, who seemed to be growing larger and larger...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" Demona yelled in agony, as it became apparent that the dark god's power was failing, and Chernobog was shrinking.

Suddenly recovering, Chernobog realized he still held one weapon.

Cearda gasped, realizing what the dark god held. Chernobog held it between the two of them, like some sort of mighty talisman. It was teal colored...

"IOLAIR!" Kreiger shouted, but she was utterly asleep, oblivious to what was happening.

The white god did not withdraw, but held his place.

"Come no nearer, Byelanbog! If you value any of your puny servants or vessels, come no nearer, or I'll shatter this one!"

Byelanbog only smiled. "You won't do that. You need to get inside of her and take her, in order to escape fully your prison."

"Perhaps so," Chernobog took naked form of she-Iolair in one paw, placing the other one just above, as if ready to smash a fly. "...but how much pain can they stand?"

Byelanbog sneered. Without a moment's hesitation, Chernobog leapy above the crest of a rocky pass in the hills, and took to the wing, his prize in hand. Without a moment lost, Demona snarled, grabbed the stone face, and took to the air after him. Byelanbog watched them go for a moment. "Don't let him just get away!" Kreiger protested.

Byelanbog laughed. "What? You mean you care for the little hatchling, gargoyle?"

Kreiger's jaw worked.

"Come, my pets. Have faith. Chernobog shall not get far."

Cearda, seeing the indecision on her mates face, snarled. He gave two wingstrokes with her own impressive span and flew in an attack formation screaming battlecry to Krieger. She brandished her halberd, swung around and followed the quickly disappearing Demona.

Kreiger snarled, eyes lighting up with rage, and took off after her. Byelanbog spread his own wings wide. "Good luck my Childern!" he called. Then he looked up at the covered sun. "Soon Mother Moon. Soon we shall have revenge on all the evil that Chernobog has done to us."

Demona chased after Chernobog and knew that it was losing fight. She still wasn't sure what she was going to do when she caught up to him...she couldn't kill him. For to kill him would be to kill herself as well. Her eyes blazed red. She might not be able to kill him but that didn't stop her from killing HER! Screaming with rage she closed her wings and dived in a headlong rush!

Cearda watched as Demona's wings closed and she began to dive toward the unsuspecting Chernobog. The Black God's wings spread a shadow of death to the ground far below. Cearda had no idea what Demona was doing but her sharp eyes quickly were able to make out what Demona was targeting; Iolair! "NO!" Krieger, always a bit quicker than she, shot forward. Cearda closed her own wingspan to help him.

With only ten feet till she hit Iolair, Demona was captured by strong arms. She screamed again in outrage. Her wings sprang out in her startlement and confusion. She began to claw viciously at Krieger. The male gargoyle roared in pain, closed his wings and tumbled into Chernobog's broad back. Likewise, startled, the Black Gargoyle attempted to twist around to shake off the unwanted passengers. Cearda snapped her wings open with a mighty effort, braking in mid air, and took a swipe at Chernobog's closed hand. The hand that contained Iolair. The magical halberd sank deeply into the Black God's vein and artery. He screamed, reflexively opening his hand. Iolair slipped out and began to fall, still asleep. Cearda gave battlecry, closed her wingspan, and dove after her clanmate. She plucked the slumbering Iolair out of the air like an eagle that plays with it's catch. Then turned in mid-air and headed back toward Chernobog's dark prison.

On his back, the two struggling gargoyles, Demona and Krieger. And fleeing as quickly as her pitiful little wings could get her, Cearda with that soul he needed so badly. The Black God snarled and it was like thunder. Krieger, upon hearing that, let Demona got like she was a hot coal and scrambled to get off the Black gargoyle's back. He used all his strength to push Demona from himself, spread his wings to their fullest and was toss upwards by an obedient updraft. Demona snarled her outrage, spit some of her hair out of her mouth and would have followed if it wasn't for suddenly being thrown off of Chernobog's back when the Black God twisted in mid flight to chase his escaping prize.

Demona screamed, this time in terror as she was thrown off the Black God's back. She free fell a hundred feet before snapping her wings out to save herself. But even that wasn't enough as a rouge patch of wind conspired and slammed her against a sharp cliff face.

She died instantly.

Krieger, seeing his Queen smash her head in on hard granite, roared in a passion of despair! His eyes blazed white. Closing his wings he dived, much as Demona had but this time straight for Chernobog's exposed neck. He would kill the black god one way or the other. He never occured to him, that the Black God could kill him with a flick of his fingers. He drew his own magical claymore and struck! Chernobog was shocked to say in the least. He lost all concentration, rearing up in mid-flight, roaring in pain. The doublesided sword sank deeply into the flesh of his neck. Black blood welled up. Kreiger braced himself against the dark gargoyle's shoulders and pulled the claymore free. He was instantly and liberally sprayed with the black blood that hissed and ate away at his own flesh like acid. He screamed in mortal terror, lost his balance and began to fall. He didn't even feel it when his head struck an outcropping of stone. He fell onto a mountain's thin high spine, almost cut in two. The black blood still eating away at his flesh. But he was already dead by the blow to the head.

Cearda didn't see any of this. All she knew was that she had what Chernobog wanted more than anything. And she had to keep Iolair away from him. The Stone of Long Life blazed, illuminating Iolair in it's light. Her halberd began to glow.

Iolair moaned softly then blinked.

~Iolair?" Cearda said urgently.

~Ce....ce...Cearda....I had the strangest dream." Iolair sleepily began to rub at her eyes, yawned then opened her eyes. Over Cearda's shoulder she saw Chernobog. She stifled a scream of terror; going stiff in Cearda's arms.

"It wasn't a Dream!"

Cearda closed her wings diving again in an erratic movement. Iolair wound her arms around Cearda's neck. "What?..."

"You're right! It's wasn't a dream! It was a nightmare! Can you fly?!"

Iolair nodded. Cearda then thought better of it. "You might be able too, but I think he'd be able to catch you. I think you should stay with me."

She opened her left wing and that sent her spinning out of control. Iolair screamed and tried desperately to get closer to Cearda.

"Hopefully, this nightmare will turn back into a beautiful dream. IF I am able to get back to Byelanbog!"

Iolair dared to look out of the protective arms that held her. She saw the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. A gargoyle of purest white. Like a star had taken shape ...or the sun...no the heart of the sun! "A white gargoyle?"

Cearda nodded once, getting herself back into control. "Iolair! Look!"

She spread her wings and came in for a landing. Overweight and unbalanced by Iolair and the wild wind she stumbled and fell. Iolair was pitched forwards barely striking her head against a stone. Cearda almost impaled herself on her halberd; had the wind knocked out of her and struggled for breath. Iolair looked to where Cearda had been pointing and saw the moon slowly moving out of the path of the sun. Chernobog looked up also, saw what was happening and screamed in outrage. If the moon finished it's journey, then nothing would be between him and total annihilation!!!!

Iolair was holding her head, and the paw that held it was a bit bloody. Cearda recovered quickly, and they quickly began to take in the situation. Bylanbog was nearby, looking over the scene. Demona was dead. It was then that Cearda saw Kreiger, laying dead atop the upper ridge of the mountain. Cearda, oblivious to all else, took to the air and raced to his side. Iolair, however, was watching Chernobog.

Chernobog screamed with outrage. He clutched his head, and his flight faltered. As the first rays of the sun touched the ground from behind the veil of the moon, Chernobog turned to stone. The dark god fought against it with all his strength, but suddenly was nothing more than a giant statue hanging a thousand feet up in the air.

The statue crashed to the earth, splitting apart. Byelanbog made a motion with his paws, and the pieces all turned to dust. "Back to prison with you, Chernobog."

Demona, dazed and confused, returned to consciousness from her state of immortal limbo. Demona blinked a few times, as she tried to clear her vision. She saw a teal colored female gargoyle looking down at her, with a bloodied cut on her scalp. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to straighten her thoughts out.

"How much do you remember?" she inquired.

"It's all... very confused."

"Your color has returned to normal -- a good sign I suppose."

"What happened, sister?"

"The dark god possessed your body, ate our clan member Char, and tried to possess me as well."

Demona winced. Was it possible she had allowed the death of a clan member? It was impossible! It had to be someone else's fault...

Cearda arrived to find a most unpleasant scene. Demona, recovered from death already, hoisted young Iolair up against a stone cliff face, snarling. Iolair's face was terrified, and there was evidence he had taken a lot of beating, and been unable to resist the fierceness of the attack.

"YOU! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Demona accused him. She slashed at her again, and blood flew.

Cearda approached the scene. Demona paused to regard her second, as Cearda laid the body of Kreiger at Demona's feet. Releasing her captive, Iolair stumbled away from each of them, opened her torn wings, and found a convenient place in the forest below. She collapsed onto a stone ledge, lay down, and removed the amulet from around her neck. She turned to stone instantly.

Kreiger? Dead? Demona shook her head. It was impossible! That traitor! Iolair must die! With a snarl of outrage, she pushed past the mournful Cearda, to track down her quarry. She found Iolair, changed to stone, against a ledge. Demona reeled up a fist, preparing to smash the statue.

"DEMONA! DO NOT!"

Incredulously, Demona turned to stare at her Second.

"What? You would save this one? why?!"

Cearda clutched a hand around the Stone of Long Life as she knelt by the side of her dead mate. "Would killing Iolair bring him back? Would killing one bring back Char?"

Demona glared at the stone Iolair, terror on her face. Then at the almost serene Cearda. The contrast between the two was what stopped her.

She dropped her hand with a sickened whimper and fell to her knees. "What have I done? What have I done?"

Cearda, tears streaming down her face, said softly, "Taken the first steps toward healing. It was you Demona who wanted to find Chernobog. It was you who wanted to release him into the world of Man. It was you who gave him Sacrifice. It was you who lead Char to her death. It was you who brought us all to the brink of death."

Demona turned on her Second swiftly. "What do you mean it was all my fault?!"

Cearda looked at her; really looked at her. Her eyes locked onto Demona's own. "Wasn't it?"

Demona's face twisted into an enraged snarl then crumpled into sorrow, disbelief, and finally acceptance. Mournful sobs forced their way up her throat as she put her face into bloodstained hands and began to cry.

Cearda stroked and smoothed Krieger's wild mane. Straightened out his limbs and put him to rest. She remembered what had happened to the Gold Gargoyle of Byzantium when she killed herself. She wondered what would happen to Krieger if she took the stone off.

She needn't have worried about it.

For the first time in her life she looked at the world as it was when the sun was in the sky. The colors were so bright and vibrant. Flowers that were closed at night, had opened and now showed off their petals

The air even smelled different. She took a deep breath of morning air then released it.

"It's a new... day." she said softly. "A new day and a new beginning for all of us."

"Indeed it is."

She looked up and saw the star white Byelanbog still in his gargoyle shape. He was immense as gargoyles went - but maybe puny as Gods went. She sniffled yet felt a lightness come to her spirit. She wondered how that could be since Krieger was dead and she should be in mourning.

"Byelanbog... now that Chernobog is returned to his prison what will you do?"

The star white gargoyle began to shrink, becoming smaller; a regular gargoyle's size. He lightly touched down on the stone mountain top and caped his shining wings.

"I will return to my celestial home." he said. His voice the sound of a thousand stars.

Cearda nodded and looked down at Krieger's mangled flesh.

She felt, on her shoulder, a touch as light as goose down. She looked up into the White God's shining gargoyle face. "My Lord?"

Byelanbog straightened, took his hand away. "For your help in capturing Chernobog I am willing to grant you a boon, my daughter."

Cearda blinked in surprise. "A boon?"

The starlit gargoyle nodded. "Anything your heart desires."

Cearda looked down at Krieger and felt a clenching of her heart. "Anything?" she whispered.

"Yes....."

She nodded faintly then spoke. "I know what I want my lord. But before I make my request I would ask you a question."

"Ask."

"Are gargoyles the children of the Dark or of the Light?"

Byelanbog was silent. Cearda looked up into his face wondering if he would answer her or not. "Gargoyles," he began slowly. "Are MY children."

Cearda swallowed nervously knowing that she must ask. "If we are of the light then why do we live only at night?"

Byelanbog slowly lowered himself to the ground sitting across from Cearda; separated from her by Krieger's body. "I created the gargoyle to protect man, his sibling. For the night is a very scary time for humans. I created gargoyles to protect Man from those things that he fears. From the things in the dark. From Chernobog's evil creations.

"I wished that the humans would protect the gargoyle during the day. And be thankful for their protection their strength, their commitment but it didn't work out that way.

"I realized that I had made a mistake. I have heard the cries of my children and have been slowly calling them home. Yet there are those who either can not hear me, or refuse to hear me. Your Demona is one of those."

Cearda spared Demona a quick look. The redmaned gargoyle was still crying; coming to terms with her hand in the destruction of her clan. "She can not see you?" she asked.

Byelanbog shook his head. "Sadly no. Only those who have been one with the Light can truly be saved."

Byelanbog rose from his sitting position and looked down at her. "So... I owe you boon. What is it you want?"

"Can you return people from the dead?" she asked faintly.

Byela looked at the slain form of Krieger and slowly shook his head. "No... I can not. I can create life though. And I can hold him for you until that time you truly need him."

"W... will... he return to me?" she asked brokenly.

Byela made a soft clicking sound with his tongue. "Yes... he will return to you. One day. Alive hearty, and whole."

Cearda sobbed, pressing her face into Krieger's chest. Crying for what was lost to her. Slowly her tears subsided. She rose, her broken mate in her arms. "Then I ask you, take him. Heal him."

Byela nodded and took Krieger into his own arms. "I will do as you have asked. And I will continue to watch over you." he promised.

Cearda wiped away her tears with a clinched fist. "My love." She let out a small breath then stepped back. "I will do as you command me, My Lord."

Byela smiled. "You will do as you have been doing. Live!"

He spread his shining wings and began to rise in the air. "My Daughter!"

With a great flash of light he was gone, Krieger, the black stones of Chernobog's prison that kept the gargoyles flesh, and the whole nightmare with him.

A lone red bird fluttered down and perched on the stone gargoyle's shoulder. It looked at a second gargoyle on a ledge with torn wings and then a third gargoyle that was couched down weeping.

It cocked it's head, knowing the gargoyles for who they were but not understanding why they were on the mountain top.

It shrugged, opened it's mouth and began to sing in the clear morning air.

There was a long moment, as Cearda watched the bird. But then she turned, struggling with the colliding emotions in her heart, and laid down against the stoneface, to sleep until sunset.

"Well, Cearda?" Iolair's voice inquired.

Cearda looked up at her. She must have slept, as the sun had fallen now. "Well, Iolair? What will you do now?" she asked, referring to Demona's betrayal.

Iolair was puzzled. "Do? I've nothing else to do for now. My once-mate-to-be is dead. That, and I'm --"

Cearda nodded. "Female."

Iolair looked uncomfortable, and stood up again, anxiously. There was something he wasn't telling Cearda - she could tell. Iolair anxiously changed the subject. "I'll meet you back at council."

"You are staying with us?"

Iolair paused, but did not reply.

Location: AVALON, 1998

Lady Christyne, robed in her new white blouse with gold trim and her new sword, placed her hands on her hips and twitched her tail with annoyance. "You wanted to see me?"

The two gargoyles hanging in mid air in the middle of a guest suite suddenly came alive. "What is the meaning of all this humiliation?"

Lady Christyne leaned against the doorpost, enjoying Phantom's sense of humor. "I imagine someone didn't want to deal with you as soon as you demanded it."

"Do you have the power to let us down?"

Lady Christyne clapped her hands, and the two gargoyles collapsed onto the floor below. They recovered quickly, standing. Christyne draped her wings and closed the door behind her. "Now, once more. You wanted me?"

Before Christyne stood a very beautiful blue gargoyle with an enormous mass of red hair, dressed in loincloth, gold jewelry, and a crown. She was flanked by a very bright yellow and orange gargoyle with peach feathered wings.

"Do you know us?" the blue one inquired.

"Oh course, my queen. It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Our quest has been long, now that we have learned you live again."

Christyne scowled, and walked up to this blue one. They faced one another for a few moments, until suddenly the blue gargoyle cried out, holding the sides of her head.

"You left me to die, your highness. To the mercy of the humans you so despised! I lost my life to them that day! I may have well have been shattered with the rest of my clan!"

"I was... trying to teach them... a lesson..." she retorted desperately.

"Oh, I'm sure they've learned, now that each of them occupy another plane of existence! You betrayer!"

"LEAVE OFF!" the sun-bright one demanded.

Christyne scowled at her. She was very modest looking, but Christyne could sense a hidden power in her. "Very well. I do not know you, and do not interfere in the coming battle."

Christyne twirled. "I have patrol duties to see to. You may stay here as long as you like. Just don't get in our way."

With that, Christyne vanished in an array of magic.

"It seems much has changed from what we knew of her." the blue one muttered as the other helped her to her feet.

"Yes, Cearda. Be patient. She will come around, eventually."

Within Demona's realm...

They came upon her upon the pathways through the woodland, glaring with high head at the three who happened to stumble across her. She was dressed in her skimpy leather loincloths, and bore a thin gold wire about her brow. A powerhouse of violent energy. She had liquid blue eyes.

"Well, my queen?" she asked, arms folded expectantly.

Demona stopped short. "Malcora!" she exclaimed with surprise.

Lady Christyne, resplendent in her salmon-pinkish gargoyle form, swung her wings before her with grace, bowing. "At your service. You wished to speak with me?"

"Speak with you? Since I learned you were alive, I've been waiting to see you! Why did you turn us away at Avalon?"

Christyne raised an eyebrow. "It was a battle I had to fight."

Cearda stepped forward. "Are you immortal?"

Christyne's attention turned to the sun-bright gargoyle. "Cearda, always a pleasure sister." she bowed again, "I am neither immortal, nor mortal. I live within time, but see beyond it."

"Are you yet mated, sister?" Cearda put in.

Christyne nodded. "I have walked among the humans and the fey for the last three hundred years, and I have taken a mate." she focused her attention on Demona. "My offspring will greatly enhance the clan. I have come to you, and you requested of me on Avalon."

"Be by my side once again, Malcora. As we did fighting the Hunter, long ago." Demona encouraged.

Christyne's stare was cold, direct into Demona's green eyes. "You allowed my clan to fall into the hands of the Hunter. You betrayed me to the humans. I have come to give you a message - and a warning."

"Give me your news?" Demona inquired.

"Your clan here is in danger." Christyne responded. "I foresaw the Kanmore man who hunts this clan. He has learned of it's location."

"Why do you give us this information?" Demona looked at Cearda.

"What should we do about him?" Cearda looked at Demona. Their looks were nervous ones.

Lady Christyne, slyly as a snake, turned her head to the quiet third member of their party. She did not reply to them immediately.

Iolair felt her heart seize up, gone cold.

Eyebrows furrowed, Lady Christyne pinched the flesh between Iolair's loincloths, on her chest. Lady Christyne seemed disappointed.

"Demona, don't you feed your underlings? If she ever came to term, she would die in travail." Lady Christyne accosted Demona. "She would have little strength in love making."

Demona scowled. "Iolair is not mated. Her mate died years ago."

Lady Christyne sighed. "Feed her more before she mates again."

Cearda wasn't sure if it were a laughable remark, or an offensive one.

Lady Christyne turned back to Demona and Cearda. "Your clan's future, especially it's rookery, is in grave danger. I can tell you that this Kanmore man is an alchemist, and is studying ways of hurting our kind with his chemicals rather than turning lead into gold. You will be forced to leave you caves your clan inhabits."

"NO!" Demona snarled. "We will NOT leave this place! It is all we have left, thanks to the hunter!"

"I have foreseen it." Lady Christyne's reply was simple and cold. "As for my motivation, you dare not question it." She looked sharply at the one with the red mane. "You betrayed me once, but it would not be honorable for me to return your disservice. I would remain more honorable than you."

Her words were harsh and bitter.

"Heed my warnings or no, it does not concern me." She concluded. "The demands of my honor are fulfilled." With that, in a ball of flame, Iolair's eldest genetic sister vanished.

She-Iolair stayed by Cearda's left hand since the time of Kreiger's demise trying to be of some support to the one that had lost so much to save the clan from Demona's mistake. Iolair could not deny that Cearda had saved her life on many occasions during the battle and it's aftermath, and felt a debt of gratitude toward her new clanmate.

All night long, Cearda tried to occupy Iolair's mind. She introduced her to other members of the clan who told her about how Demona had appeared out of nowhere to join their clan. He learned that this clan used to live in Bren a small city in Switzerland. That the humans turned upon them and began to kill them. Demona returned after a year long banishment, rallied the clan, and advised them to flee. Now they lived here in the Truif mountains, safe from humans; guarded by the dragon. If it wasn't for Demona they would be dead and their children with them.

As the hour grew late, the sun threatened to make his appearance Cearda crouched close to Iolair. "What's wrong?"

Iolair tore the petals off a flower then tossed the remnants to the ground.

"I just don't agree with Demona's decision to send Bogamil."

"Why not?"

"The Hunter is a gargoyle problem! He should be handled by gargoyles!"

Cearda bit her lip and pondered her point. "Maybe... but Demona knows what she's doing. She's sending Bogamil because he's a shapechanger. He'll be able to go down in the shape of, say, a red dog, find out what the Hunter is up to, and return without being noticed."

Iolair whipped her wings closed. "I still think a gargoyle should have gone." he said.

"Cearda, I'm kinda concerned about Iolair."

Surprised the beaked gargoyle glanced at her leader, "Why?"

"She didn't seem very enthusiastic about my decision to send Bogamil last night."

"And when has that ever bothered you before?" snorted Cearda.

"Never," answered Demona, "But this time it's different. Iolair is a young gargoyle. He... she's liable to do something rash."

"Like what?"

"I-"

"All hail Demona! Queen of gargoyles!" called down a voice from above. The two gargoyles looked up and saw the Red Dragon is Isht, Bogamil. The large creature folded his wings then came down for a pin-point landing.

"Halloa!" he greeted them.

Demona stepped forward. "Greetings Bogamil! Any news?"

The red dragon shook his head, his great mane falling into disarray. "Aye, I've news. Yes, the Hunter is down below in the village. He doesn't know that there are gargoyles in the mountains. You can thank the suspicious humans for that. They don't trust him. He should be gone soon without even a crumb to tell him anything. But I do think it would be best to stay away from that side of the mountain for a while."

Demona nodded. "Thank you Bogamil. Thank you very much."

"Good...good." said Bogamil. "Well I'll be going now. Have a little hunting to do." he spread his humongous wing span then turned and hurled himself into the night sky.

Demona turned away and looked at Cearda shrugging. "You're my right hand Cearda. It's up to you to tell the others about the Hunter and to stay away from the village. While Bogamil handles the hunter, you and Iolair scout the village for any other possible signs of trouble. The hunter may still be in the village."

Cearda saluted, "Right away my Queen."

They sailed low, by Iolair's lead, and soon came to rest at the edge of a small human village. Iolair stalked low, on all fours, around the back of the huts and home, looking for any sign of life. Cearda followed, nervous, expecting the hunter to suddenly leap out of the ground like a thing undead and skewer Iolair alive. She was relieved as this did not happen.

"Don't look so jittery." Iolair noted, looking over She shoulder at her, She tail swinging almost idly. "I'm not stupid enough to go looking for trouble."

Cearda brandished her halberd, folding her arms authoritatively. "We are not to spend a moment more here than is necessary."

Iolair blinked. "Very well then. Give me a moment, and we can return."

Iolair muttered again for a moment about gargoyles dealing with the hunter, as he looked around. Cearda straightened a moment, and watched her put her ears up to a building.

"Ah, but if you have monsters and other creatures in your mountains, then I am just the questor you need to rid you of such demons."

"There is a dragons living in a lake far in the mountains near here. He steals and eats cattle, a little at a time."

"Ah, then my task here among this tribe is clear."

"Whatever you want, but just get out of this village."

"Once I am done ridding you of this Demon, you will thank me."

"Whatever you want, stranger. Just remove yourself from this place."

Iolair suddenly stepped away from the wall, with an amazed look on her face. She stuck her paws in her mouth, and danced around in a funny way, twirling around with her tail trailing behind her. "Oooooh oh oh oh! This is too good!"

"What?"

"The hunter... a dragon in a lake... Bogamil... oh oh ooooh!"

"Iolair, make sense."

"The hunter is hunting a dragon in a lake in the mountains. If Bogamil would... oh oh ooooooh! We could set a trap for the hunter! All we need do is get the gargoyles..." He trailed off, turning back to bewildered Cearda. "But first, we must ask Demona."

Suddenly, there was the swoosh of a knife blade through the air. Iolair snapped under the brush, and scurried madly away. Cearda ran after. The cloaked figure behind them could not follow two dark gargoyles scurrying away on a moonless night. Yet, he ran after the sound, sword in hand. Cearda bounded after Iolair by foot, until she suddenly tripped over Iolair's leg, and Iolair pulled her quickly inside a small cave in the hillside. Iolair shushed her, and they sat quietly for a few moments until they heard footsteps run past the cave mouth, moving on past.

Iolair smiled, as her eyes picked her way through the cave. "My, now wasn't that fun?"

Cearda shook her head and followed. How does Demona put up with her? Bringing her halberd to the ready, Cearda searched for any sign of their attacker.

A sudden blast filled the chamber. Iolair dashed behind Cearda, back toward the cave entrance, but it was too late. Cearda was thrown backwards, deep into the cave. Iolair, realizing she was too late, flared her wings to ward off the falling rocks. However, she was overcome and buried.

Cearda heard her yelp, and heard a human laugh.

Bogamil watched the human return to the huts when the moon was low. The Hunter wore a smirk. Then, the Hunter fell into Bogamil's trap. Oh, Iolair's trap had been a good idea. Bogamil had suddenly realized a good way to expand on it.

The villagers, riled with anger, turned on the masked man, and began to throw stones at him. Bogamil smirked, changed into a red striped dog, and loped away into the night.

Cearda pulled the teal gargoyle from the mess with all her strength. Iolair groaned and stirred, rubbing the back of her head. "I'm alright... mostly."

"Good. I wasn't about to carry you anywhere after you got me into this." she replied, with a slight smile.

Iolair pushed herself onto all fours, shook the dust off herself, and moved her wings and tail, looking for anything broken. "Just bruised." Iolair reported.

"Takes a lick'n and keeps on tick'n." Ceada laughed. "Com'n, there's a passageway down this tunnel that I know of. I used to play down here before I was initiated to become a warrior in THIS clan."

"Ah." Iolair nodded. "Your old haunt."

"Something like that. How did you find it?"

"I saw it, hidden in the brush."

"Then the Hunter must have also. Uh oh." Cearda became suddenly concerned.

"What is it?" Iolair asked, her wings opened slightly.

"The left passage has been blocked. The right I know is a dead end."

"What are you saying?"

Cearda leaned against a wall, and slid down onto the floor. "We're trapped."

"Trapped my hind foot." Iolair chirped cheerfully, "Are we not 'One with the Stone?'"

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Cearda with a puzzled look on her face. "Who told you that?"

Iolair had the grace to look a little sheepish. "I've always believed that. I mean when you think about it, it should be true, right?"

Cearda shook her head.

Iolair growled softly. "Ok, show me this other passage way."

Cearda pointed.

"Now watch. I'll show that I am right."

She sank her claws deeply into the stone then pulled. A hunk of rock fell away.

"See!" he crowed victorious.

"Ok, miss Conqueror of the Stone. What do we do when we get out? The hunter is still outside you know."

Iolair paused for a heartbeat, then said nonchalantly, "I know... don't worry about it. Everything's going to be fine."

Cearda rolled her eyes and squatted down on her heels.

Let the her throw rocks around. She would conserve her air supply.

Demona scanned the night sky anxiously. Out of the darkness came a pale flash of red; Bogamil.

"You didn't find her?" she asked.

Bogamil shook his head. "No, my Queen. She's nowhere to be found. There is a disturbance at the human's village."

Demona growled. "Curses!"

Bogamil reassured her. "We can trust Iolair. You have to remember. She's still young and prone to getting into situations like this. She'll be fine."

"She might get herself into trouble, but Cearda is with her."

Bogamil flicked a rock off his shoulder. "I know that. Trust her, my Queen. You might be surprised."

Demona gave Bogamil a narrow look. "You know where she is." she accused.

Nonplused Bogamil began to preen one of his wings. "Yes, I do."

"And why didn't you tell me!"

"If she's in trouble it's for her to get out of. Trust me."

That stopped Demona cold. She shut her mouth. It wasn't often that Bogamil asked her to trust her. Trust was an unspoken agreement between them, like it was between her and her second in command, Cearda. She gave him a long look then stiffly nodded. "Alright. But if she brings trouble to the Cearda or the clan..."

"The Hunter has been forced from the village. You've nothing to worry about." Bogamil added, for effect. "Of course we never would have been able to get rid of the Hunter if it wasn't for that new young one."

Demona's voice quavered, "Oh, really?"

Bogamil sat down; scratched at a flea. "Yes. You'll see what I mean when she returns. I best be going. The Hunter expects to find a dragon in the next valley so I mustn't disappoint him." he gave both gargoyles a dragon grin then trotted down the mountain path. "Wait and see."

The sun rose, and each of the gargoyles turned to stone.

The hunter, sore and angry, entered the Valley of the Crystal Lake. He'd show those miserable peasants what was really going on here. There was little to be seen in the valley, but he knew any dragon or gargoyle would be well hidden.

The sun had set by the time that he found the lake -- it was well hidden in the hills. The hunter drew his sword, and began his search. He spoke a few choice spells to draw his quarry to her.

For a moment, the hunter paused, thinking he'd heard something. All was silent, but he had that unmistakable feeling of someone breathing down his neck.

He turned.

The red dragon snapped at his quarry, and came away with a mouthful of cape. The Hunter slung his sword about, as Bogamil spat his cape out and came after her again.

All at once, the valley was filled with a thousand screams of angry gargoyles.

The hunter cursed. He'd been drawn into a trap!

The light blue gargoyle he'd been hunting all these years perched on a tree above he advancing gargoyles, eyes red.

"YOU! My family will return twice as strong, and they will finish you, monsta'!"

"But you will not be there to see it." she said in a voice smoothe-as-butter voice.

The gargoyles leapt, and the red firedrake advanced upon himr, and the battle ensued.

Bogamil, however, was not focused on the battle, but rather her eyes were turned to the hills, waiting.

A low rumbling filled the land. Rocks moved, and all the creatures were thrown to the ground. The sound of an explosion rocked the land, and it's percussion hit all. A brilliant red flare illuminated the coming night.

Demona silently cursed. She'd always known about one or two active volcanoes along this chain, but they'd been silent for an eternity! Why today? Why when her dreams were near fulfillment?

Demona leapt for the Hunter, who was still reacting to the volcanic eruption. Just before Demona could touch her with her talons, he dodged under the dazed gargoyles, and fled.

The demon-gargoyle cursed, and followed. She would not loose her now! Not while he was still so close!

In the eternal darkness of the cave, there was a sudden light, spreading like a web across the surface of two frozen gargoyles. They roared, one high and screeching like a great raptor, and one the cat-like snarl of a great cat.

Both suddenly clasped their throats, and collapsed, choking.

They wheezed and sputtered the air. Iolair struggled to see. She wished she still had his falcon's eyes which could pierce any darkness. All her darkness-eyes could see was smoke and swirling vapors. However, beyond it there was a slight red glow coming from where they had been working.

Iolair took Cearda in arm, and began to drag her from the piles of stone that had accumulated about their feet during the day. "Poison gas..."

Cearda was hacking so harshly that her reply was unintelligible. They stumbled from that cavern. Retreating back to the place where they had first entered and the entrance blocked, both collapsed onto the bed of stone in exhaustion.

Demona snarled in frustration. She scoured the land, looking for her, testing the air, trying to track her down. He'd simply vanished. In utter anger, Demona went back to her clan.

The heat had risen tremendously in the last few minutes, and the gargoyles in the cave were panting for breath.

"Something... is consuming... the air..." he observed.

Cearda only nodded.

There was a rumbling in the ground, like the wake of a large explosion the ceiling damaged in the blast from the Hunter's black powder, collapsed onto of the two gargoyles.

Iolair threw herself on top of Cearda, as the stone piled on top of them.

Under the piles of stones, Cearda felt Iolair sprawled atop her, and her feel her breath brushing her face. The other gargoyle suddenly peeled back, and forced the stone from atop her.

She was not successful at first.

"The whole hillside... may have just come down... on us..." he panted. "Some more air..."

On her third try, the stones rolled away into the cave. Iolair clawed her way out of nearly twenty feet of fallen rock. A lot of the rock fell down on Cearda, but Iolair was now too disgusted at her thankless nature to help. She angrily forced her own way out.

They were both starting to choke again.

"The gas is pouring in here, a gas from deep within the stone you come from, that can only poison your wretched kind." A voice echoed down the hall.

Iolair stiffened. "YOU!" she snarled.

"Pentric Oxidous Acid, as the alchemists call it. A very rare gas which penetrates molten rocks from beneath the mountains."

"What, doesn't your kind believe this world is flat, still?" Cearda snapped at him.

"Look at the horizon and tell me it is not." the figure barely visible in the darkness and gasses was saying. She drew the mask from his face, and let his black hair tumble down.

"Samuel Kanmore." Iolair breathed. "Have you come... to sample the death?"

"You should not threaten me, females, as it is your eggs I am here to destroy, not you."

"How is it possible... for an acid not... to eat at a human?" Cearda panted.

"Humans... come from the water,... Gargoyles come from the stone... each has it's bane... some water-based poisons... do not work on gargoyles... while some sulfuric fumes... kill our kind. Just as... dragonsbane kills only a dragon." Iolair deduced. She reached for the hunter's sword, but stumbled, unfamiliar with the weight of her breasts - her center of gravity had changed when her sex had changed.

She and the Hunter struggled over the his sword for a moment. Iolair delivered a hard fisted blow to the hunter's chest, and slashed deep lacerations into his side.

"Monsters!" the hunter snarled. He railed lacerations into Iolair's thick flesh. "I will plant this gas into your nest, and it will eat your eggs away to nothing."

"Grarh! We are no monsters! You humans are the monsters! Only humans... *wheeze* would slaughter helpless... unborn children!"

The Hunter was starting to move past the dizzy Iolair towards Cearda. Iolair spun the blade over the Hunter's head, nearly taking his head off, but the sword only came close to his arm. Iolair stumbled again, and fell.

There was a sickened sound, as the Hunter took the sword from Iolair, and sliced through the fallen gargoyle's heart. Then the sound came again, as Cearda's dagger penetrated the Hunter's skull, using his seconds of distraction with Iolair to her advantage. The Hunter fell to the ground in a pool of blood.

"What on earth do you mean? The Hunter escaped!" Demona protested.

"The Hunter did not escape." Bogamil reaffirmed. "Iolair and Cearda have seen to his death."

"I don't believe it!" Demona snarled in outrage, fire alight in her eyes. "The hunter is my prey! Iolair has no place...!"

"Iolair is dead."

Demona stopped, her anger suddenly chilled. "What?"

"Iolair lost his life in that battle. Cearda's is still in jeopardy."

Demona leapt. "Then we must find her!"

"Nay! It's my turn now! Let me find her."

Demona swallowed her snarl. "Very well then." She glanced at Bogamil with suspicion, but began to follow his words without further question.

No doubt the Hunter had sealed his entrance, sealing both him and the gargoyles in this cavern, she deduced. Cearda returned to where the gasses poured and the air was sucked away, trying to find the way of escape.

Barely able to stand the heat and gasses, she found a single crack in the wall Iolair had been striving to cut through. There was a single ray of red light emanating there. Iolair had succeeded in making a hole!!! Cearda curled a fist, and slammed her way through the rock. It gave way under her angry force.

Suddenly, the rock beneath Cearda gave way, opening out into a large cavern, filled with oozing liquid stone. She suddenly grabbed for the stone, trying to keep herself out of the pit, digging her razor sharp claws deep into the stone. Rocks around her fell into the river of heat. Cearda cried out. The stone she had sunk her talons into began to crack and give way.

Cearda screamed.

Demona nodded. "One night, one night alone. Tigris and Iolair will be together."

Cearda screamed... then felt her wrist shackled. She looked up and saw the widely smiling face of Bogamil.

"Looks like you're in a spot of trouble!" he beamed cheerfully.

"Bogamil! Pull me up! Pull me up!!"

Bogamil braced herself and leaned back upon his haunches. "Right away, Great Lady!"

Cearda folded her wings and tried not to struggle too much as she was pulled out of the hellish abyss.

Bogamil raised her then set her down on her feet. Bogamil grunted, seeing Iolair's slain form. "Well it's a good thing I flew by. Come, we must get out of here. I am sure Demona won't like this."

Cearda chuckled. She took hold of Iolair's legs, while Bogamil bent, then picked up the slain gargoyle and slung her over his shoulder and out of the way of his wings.

Cearda glared at the corpse of the hunter. "Do you think Demona wants proof?"

Bogamil nodded once. "Use the sword and then chop off his head. I am sure Demona shall want to hang it up as a trophy."

Cearda smiled slightly and did as directed. Finished, she hung the head from her belt and tossed the rest of the body into the lava stream.

"Roast in the pit of hell where you belong demon." she snarled.

"Good for you!" crowed Bogamil. He flared his wings, caught an updraft and soared off to rejoin the other gargoyles of his clan, Cearda behind him.

Demona was waiting for them. When she saw the head of the Hunter hanging from Cearda's belt she eagerly waited for it to be given to her. A task that Cearda couldn't get done swiftly enough. She held the skull overhead, eyes glowing like red embers, wings flared out triumphantly

"BEHOLD! ONE HUNTER IS DEAD! OUR GENERATION IS SAFE! REJOICE! WE ARE NO LONGER PURSUED!!!"

A huge cheer arose from clan. Demona smiled then laughed delightedly. "How did you do it?!" she asked excitedly.

Bogamil laid the form of Iolair on the ground at her feet. "It was Cearda's doing. That's her strike."

"The Golden Gargoyle of Byzantium has prevailed." cheered Demona. Cearda held her chin high, her wings bristling.

Then she looked at Iolair, and knelt by her side. "I was just starting to trust her with more dangerous tasks."

Cearda looked down a the male-turned-female and did not have much to say. "I'll place her body in the rookery. She'll turn to stone soon for the last time, and I think she'd rather it was there."

"I am proud of you Iolair. Thank you." Demona grunted and turned away, looking for an appropriate place to put her new toy!

"So what are the ramifications of what you are saying?" Demona sounded frustrated.

"I'm saying that, though the hunter was stopped before he reached the rookery, the whole hillside is coming down on us in the eruption, and the gases the hunter released are spreading all over the caves that make up your home." Bogamil explained. He fluttered his dragonian wings slightly. At a very impressive size, the great creature was very imposing and businesslike. Demona could tell he was not saying these things lightly. "Being a dragon, I am not affected by this gas, but your kind will have to leave."

"NEVER!" Demona snarled. "We have been driven back by the humans, again and again! The line must be drawn! No further!"

"If we stay here, you sign the clan's death warrants." Bogamil was deadly serious.

"I cannot be responsible for harming another member of my clan." Demona sounded resigned.

"Home, great Queen of Gargoyles, is wherever your heart is - wherever your clan roosts." came a familiar female voice.

Cearda, Demona, and the others turned to see the new gargoyle step out of the shadows.

"Malcora?" Demona asked. "Why are you here?"

"Partially to gloat and say 'I told you so', but more importantly I need to collect my brother's body."

There was, again, stony silence. "Tutela's line died out long ago."

"Don't feign ignorance with me, my Queen. You knew of my brother and his ancestry when you first laid eyes on him."

Cearda stood by Demona's side. It appeared that she knew nothing about Iolair's gender metamorphosis, and Demona did not want to admit she made the mistake of calling forth the dark god Chernobog who had transformed Iolair into her current female self.

"He is dead." Cearda said truthfully.

"You lie!" she accused Cearda, pointing in her direction - eyes aflame. "How did it happen?"

"He was killed by Samuel Kanmore."

Lady Christyne was furious, her wings snapping open. Demona pointed to a bleeding head on a pig pole near the entryway. "There." Demona pointed out, "Rests the head of Samuel Kanmore."

Lady Christyne looked at the grotesque human head with an expression mixed between amusement and deep sorrow. "Where is my brother's body?"

"Destroyed, along with the remains of the hunter's body." Demona inserted.

Christyne turned, defeated, walked back into the shadows and disappeared.

Demona turned to Cearda. "In saving the life of my Second-In-Command, Iolair gave his life. Come. We must take the eggs from the rookery before it is too late."

Among the snowdrifted peaks, it was obvious from their point of view that their home was being destroyed by mother nature herself even as they watched from far across the valley. "The hunter! He did this! The eruption could only be caused by some deep magic of his! It must be! They will pay for this! I will make them all pay!"

"Yes, my Queen." Cearda placed a paw on Demona's shoulder. "But where do we go now?"

"I know of a place." came the voice of Lady Christyne.

"Malcora? Have you come to fight with us?" Cearda inquired.

The salmon-colored gargoyle shook her head. "I am not the Christyne of this time - right now I live in Utah, hiding from the humans." she said with a note of distaste in her voice. "Now, I've come kill you, unless you tell me the truth about my brother's death."

Cearda's halberd was raised, and Demona snarled. "Malcora, you traitor!"

"NO! Demona, YOU are the traitor! You serve only yourself!" she pointed a talon in Demona's direction. Was it just her imagination of was Christyne growing... larger? "You left a clan of gargoyles to die! That is a violation of your most sacred law! Protect the gargoyles at all costs? What of my mother's family? They were raised gargoyles, and you slaughtered them all! You are the enemy of all gargoyles! Just like you slaughtered my brother!"

Cearda replied with a falcon-call. "What makes you think we caused he... his death."

"Do you think me a fool? It's too convenient that the lava flows of this eruption should take my brother's body. At least you had proof of the hunter's existence - but would you be so careless as to leave Iolair's body tp be swallowed by the flows?"

"There was nothing I could have done!" she protested. "I barely escaped from the hunter with my life this time!"

"Iolair's sacrifice saved her life!" Demona added.

"I know you have his body, I have foreseen it! Where is it?"

"Our home is under flame! How can we show you anything there?" Demona protested.

"Why do you continue to lie to me?!!!" she screamed. Throwing her head back, she began to chant. Her voice reverberated everywhere, seemingly from the sky itself. "HAIL TO HEAVEN, EARTH, AND HELL! HAIL TO SKY AND WIND AND WAVES! COME, AID YOUR SISTER!!!"

Great columns of fire, wind, and water formed from almost nothing, surrounding the three gargoyles - Christyne, Demona, and Cearda. Each of these elemental columns formed themselves into Christyne's shape and immense size. Demona and Cearda searched around them for the rest of their clan, but they were nowhere to be seen. Christyne and the four other monsters encircled Demona and Cearda.

"Tell me the truth, Demona."

Cearda turned to Demona. "I'll not support you in dishonesty - it is dishonorable, my Queen."

"You have turned against me too, my Second-In-Command?"

Christyne gasped in frustration. "When will you LEARN? No one has betrayed you - not even me! It is you who is in the wrong, and you must learn to take responsibility for your actions!"

"Your mad - if you think I murdered Iolair...!"

"I've raised seven hatchlings of my own, Demona, each seemingly more human than the last. You - however - are the most HUMAN gargoyle I've ever encountered!"

Demona, tipped to the peak of her anger, raced forward in a rage toward the watery apparition of a gargoyle. However, instead of water, Demona immediately found herself trapped in a stone cage underneath the sea. Some kind of... sea monster was closing in on her, snapping and snarling as it came.

Then, just as suddenly as she had appeared in the water, she was back on dry ground, soggy and dripping.

"Where..." Demona was baffled, "Did you come by this power?"

"I am not of this time Demona. My counterpart of this time will seek you out when the time is right. However, for me it has already happened. I have come, however, to exact my revenge on you."

Cearda was frustrated. "What have we done to you, human?"

Cearda did not even see the attack coming, as a burst of energy and light found Cearda sprawled out on the ground. Cearda brought her halberd to bear, prepared for another attack.

"I am as much gargoyle as you are. I was born a gargoyle, and forced to live as a human in order to survive the humans! I was forced to become a human because of YOU Demona! Now you have slain the last of my gargoyle family, and I will have your head!"

Cearda threw her head back and laughed long and loud. "Has the future dulled your reason, fool? She is Demona the deathless! She cannot die!"

And then she was gone. There was no sign of the gargoyle female, or the monsters she had created. The silence was eerie, as a light breeze touched their hair. Quickly, that breeze became a rushing gale, as three lights appeared before Demona.

Demona's jaw dropped, as before her, from columns of flame formed three Christyne's - each with a different color hair, golden, silver, and ebony.

"That may be, Demona. But so am I." the three said in unison.

Demona was agape.

"What... What are you?"

"Your worst nightmare." they said in unison. All at once, each of them carried a sword. Silver tiara's appeared on their brows. Cearda took an involuntary step backwards as she felt the level of power before them rise.

Cearda's mind was racing. "So neither of you can be slain, or at least not easily. There is no need to start this fight. Malcora, I know your heart is the dark heart of one who killed many of the humans in your youth, but you are not a dishonorable gargoyle, and revenge upon another gargoyle is dishonorable - I don't care what the crime."

The three Christyne's circled Demona with their swords, unfaltering. "Of course it is. However, I did not come here to do battle. My revenge shall be meet in another way."

All at once, Cearda was alone. She searched far and wide with her magic, but the presence of both Demona and Christyne was gone. She lowered her halberd, shaken, and uncertain.

Demona reawoke in the cavern of Iolair's dream. There was an open door in front of her, but no one was in sight. A light poured out from the room beyond the door, and so Demona followed it. Upon the floor Demona saw small bits of stone. Curious, she pressed further into the room. The bits of stone turned out to be bits of talons, bits of wings, bits of horns, bits of tails.

These were gargoyles!, she realized.

A howling sound was heard. She felt the hair of her red mane on the back of her neck begin to stiffen. The howling grew louder into wailing. Demona turned back to the door, but heard a slamming noise, and the door had closed shut. She rushed over to it, to struggle to open it, but no matter how hard she pushed or pulled it would not budge.

There was a rustling and clattering sound among the stones. Demona felt someone's eyes upon her, and turned to see the piles of stones had become stone gargoyles.

She knew their faces, every single one of them.

"DE... MO... NA...!!!" their voices wailed. "DE... MO... NA...!!!"

The stone figures walked forward, grinding their stone joints, surrounding her on every side. There must have been a hundred of them! They were the children of Tutela, screaming for her blood.

Demona screamed.

Cearda's hand on Demona's shoulder stopped her quivering. "My... My queen?" she asked in concern.

Demona looked up into her second's eyes in relief, as Cearda looked around for Christyne. She had not yet reappeared.

"This is your curse from me, Queen of Gargoyles." Christyne's voice echoed from no place immediately evident. "Every day, skin or stone, you will remember them, and wail your name, the name of the Queen who betrayed them. Cearda, I forbid you to interfere, or you too shall share her haunting."

Cearda snarled at the unseen voice.

"Come forth!" Christyne shouted in the air above their heads.

The land suddenly exploded in light and with a deafening sound. Tendrils of flame exploded into existence, leaving behind the figure of a gargoyle.

Cearda and Demona gasped. There, stepping out of the flames, came Iolair - fully restored to his normal male self.

"What... How is this possible? Is it really him?" Demona sputtered.

"He has no memory of your battle with the Hunter, or Chernobog, and no memory of being female. Though his soul has femininity within it, those are demons he must wrestle with on another night." Christyne declared.

Iolair did not seem to hear this, but stood, like a statue, facing the clan's ruined home, wings ajar and battleready.

"How is this possible?" Demona asked. Cearda stood silently, not saying a thing.

"Cassandra is not the only one with the power to restore dead cells to life. His soul was not yet crossed over - his time is not yet ended." Christyne explained. "As a matter of fact, I found another warrior of yours that had not yet crossed over into flames of the darkness."

Flames and an explosion of light again, this time producing a female gargoyle. "Char!" Demona said in a pleased tone. "Greetings, youngling!"

"All hail the Mighty Queen of Gargoyles!" Char intoned. "Is our clan safe from that... that monster Chernobog?"

Cearda smiled, though weakly. "Yes, the clan is safe. Homeless, but safe."

Char walked over to Iolair, and together they watched the eruption. "Brother?"

"Sister?"

"Come." Char told him. "They will need an extra paw with the rookery eggs. You are good with the eggs anyway, no?"

Iolair laughed, and followed as they turned and left.

"What a Soap-Opera we lead." Cearda smiled, turning back to her queen.

Demona was still very shaken from her experience, although Cearda was not yet aware of what it was. However, she knew better than to ask. Cearda could feel Christyne's presence had left them now, but she knew that Christyne could easily carry out her threat.

It was a ragged band of gargoyles that approached the Castle Drake not long after the setting of the sun. It was Iolair and Char who set foot first down on the ramparts of the Castle Drake. Demona recognized the one known as Obsidiana standing there, they talked for a few moments, and then Obsidiana turned and stepped down within the castle. Iolair motioned for the clan to continue.

A large band of gargoyles stood in the middle of the courtyard very quietly when the current clan leader, Lysander stepped up from the bowels of the fortress to meet them. Demona and Cearda maintained their haughty attitude, but Lysander was unphased by it. Very few words were exchanged, because the meaning was already understood.

"Iolair is our rookery brother, and any friend of his is a friend of ours. Your clan is welcome here." she told them.

Then Christyne stepped from the bowels of the castle to face them, her gargoyle wings and her brilliant hair blowing behind her as if by some invisible wind. She appeared to walk on the air itself.

"Malcora." Cearda nodded.

"Always a pleasure, sister." she turned to Demona, curtsying. "Your highness. I am but your humble follower."

"Would you serve your fellow gargoyles?" Demona inquired, critically.

"I am here to bargain with you, Demona. You will live here in peace for some time. I am here for your word that you will give my brother the honor his clan and ancestry demands. You are in debt to your fellow gargoyles, for your betrayal of the gargoyles of Castle Rushen, and the time has come to repay that debt."

"How have I dishonored your brother?" Demona asked.

"By offering him as sacrifice to the Dark God is not the act of an honorable gargoyle queen."

"However, one day you will come to us." Cearda predicted.

"That may be. I am not unaware of the spell you placed on me when I was little."

Cearda looked at Demona. Demona was trapped. However, Christyne did nothing. With a final bow, she took a step backwards and vanished in a puff of flame.

Demona looked at her second. "What was the meaning of that."

"She's warning you to keep your nose clean in her book." Iolair translated, who had watched the whole exchange.

"I fail to see why I should have to be subservient to a group of gargoyles with human ancestry."

"We are not subservient to her, Demona." Cearda clarified. "She just placed herself in OUR service, not the other way around."

"I wouldn't knock Tutela's line, Demona." Iolair advised, "You're a gargoyle who has spent time among humans just as much as she has."

Demona snarled at the eagle-headed male, and turned wordlessly away. Iolair appeared about ready to go after her, but Cearda placed a paw on his shoulder.

"Don't. She's paid for her actions a long time ago. She still honors you, I don't think that will change." Cearda smiled at him. "However, if Malcora shows her face to torment Demona anymore, Demona will probably try to decapitate her!"

Iolair laughed. Cearda and her shoulder-warrior clasped their wrists together.