She didn't know what to do next. The majority of the clan was on patrol around the city, and it was inconvenient to try to join them now. They would return soon, and she would try to speak to Goliath again.

She knew Elisa would most likely visit with them after her shift ended, but that would be a few hours yet. There would be a lot to tell her and Angela hoped to get a moment alone with her. Being her only female confidant, Angela had a special relationship with Elisa, almost like a sisterhood. She appreciated her input and especially her honesty. It was Elisa who had confessed to her that Demona was her mother, in defiance of Goliath, who had meant to keep that hidden as much as possible. Elisa seemed to understand why it was so important that Angela know the truth. Angela wished she could talk to her now, in the quiet before the others returned from their patrol, but it would have to wait.

Having nothing particularly useful to do to keep her mind off her worries, she went to Hudson's sitting room, to find him relaxing in his chair with a book.

"Good evening, lass. I thought you were going to be visiting with Demona tonight."

"I was," she informed him, "Until Xanatos hit her with a tranquilizer and carried her off."

"Eh? That's a wee bit…Well, it is Xanatos, after all. He's promised to keep her under lock and key. He's a clever lad, that Xanatos, but it's not likely she'll be making it an easy task for him."

"I know. It's just that we were talking about something important. I want to know her, Hudson. I want her to know me. And now, I'm afraid I might never get the chance."

"Aye, lassie. Goliath told me what she's been asking of him," he sighed, but he added emphatically, "But don't you worry! He won't let that happen."

"I hope you're right. I'm just beginning to see what there is of her behind this vendetta. The way she was last night, and the way she dealt with Brooklyn. And just now, she spoke to me with such, I don't know. Tenderness? I just can't accept it."

"Now, lass, don't go getting your hopes up too much. She's a sick, broken soul, there be no doubt of that. And she knows well how to manipulate. Best not be letting your guard down with her."

"But is it really so impossible that there could be some goodness still left in her? She must have been good and honest and loving once. Otherwise, how could Goliath have loved her so much?"

Hudson sighed, "We all loved her, lass."

"Please, Hudson," she asked, "Will you tell me something you remember about her? If that part of her is truly gone forever, then that's the only way I can ever know her."

Hudson told her a memory that had been playing like a drama in his heart, ever since the night before, when the clan had gathered to discuss what to do with Demona. As he saw Goliath dealing with the pain of sentencing one of his own, he couldn't help but be reminded of the only instance in his own time as leader when he had to face banishing a member of his clan. It had broken his heart to do so to his own brother. Desperately, he had tried to come up with any other solution that would serve justice. But the accused's crime was serious and he was unrepentant. He has seen no other way forward than to tell him that he would be living as a rogue from then on. His brother had not argued or threatened. Though clearly sorrowful, he accepted his fate and great doors of the tower were opened so he could depart. As they did, a hatchling stepped aside, her bright eyes filled with urgency.

She was nearing maturity, her wings strong and full enough to carry her short distances now. Her limbs were strong and sure. She was from a rookery of many beautiful sisters, but she stood out among them with hair of crimson. Her eyes were focused and understanding and her spirit bold, determined, and passionate. She pleaded with one of her older sisters.

"I must speak with our leader!"

"Not tonight, my child," she responded gently, "He is suffering great sorrow tonight."

"But I must! It's terribly important. I…" She stopped, and curiously watched the banished brother as he bid his clan farewell for the last time. She didn't understand and as he poised to leap into the wind, she ran to him.

"Where are you going, Uncle?" she pleaded. He turned to find her at his side and his face filled with sorrow.

"I must leave, my bonnie," he told her. Her face was anxious as she took his arm.

"Alone?"

"Aye."

"But that's too dangerous!" she cried.

"Aye. But it has to be." She looked him over, from the small bag of rations at his waist, to the obvious pain in his otherwise handsome face. His hair was as red as her own.

"Have me come with you," she begged, "I don't want you to be alone."

"Nay, my girl," he said, "I cannot do that." He beckoned to one of the sisters standing close by.

"Come take this child," he ordered gruffly, and she came forward and pulled the younger one away from him by the shoulders, holding her tight to her own chest and sheltering her with her wings. The banished gargoyle put his hand to her face and said, "You stay here where you belong, you hear? You learn and get strong. Be brave. And try to a good girl." She nodded even as she wept quietly, and a moment later he was disappearing into the darkness. Still grieving, the others began to disperse to their posts for the evening and the sister said, "Now, back to your rookery with you." The hatching seemed to suddenly remember the mission that had brought her.

"I must speak with our leader!" she exclaimed.

"Young one, not tonight."

"Let her come to me," Hudson had insisted, and reluctantly, the sister released her.

Hudson had taken her by the arm, and they walked together along the battlements.

"Now then, lass. What is you were wanting to tell me?"

"Will he ever come back?" she asked hopefully.

"No, lass. He won't be coming back."

"But where will he live? Where will he sleep at daybreak?"

"In the sea caves along the cliffs, I'd wager." The hatchling considered this.

"What will he eat?"

"Oh, he'll eat, you can be sure. The forest and the sea will provide for him, just as it always provided for our ancestors."

For a brief moment, she seemed a bit consoled, but then her face fell.

"Our aunties in the rookery say that gargoyles who are banished go mad and can even die of broken hearts." Hudson had cringed at those words, for such concerns were heavy on his heart as well.

"T'is a terrible thing, to lose one's clan," Hudson had told her, "But he's not without hope. We never know what life is going to bring us. It might be for better or worse, but change is the only thing we can be sure of. His story is not over yet, lass. Do not despair for him. Now then, what was it you were so anxious to tell me?"

Her face and posture melted into an expression of disgrace and Hudson suspected he was about to hear a confession. He was quite surprised when, instead, she said, "My aunties in the rookery and our trainers all say that Gargoyles don't read."

"Aye. We don't typically have much use for human books and the like," he conceded.

"But I can read," she whispered without looking at him, as if she thought she was confessing a great sin.

Hudson was surprised at this. It wasn't completely unheard of for gargoyles to learn such things but reading and writing were human traditions with which gargoyles didn't typically concern themselves. Even most men in those times didn't learn to read. There was little point to it, as books were precious and hard to come by, particularly in a remote place like Castle Wythern.

"How? Who taught you to read?"

"No one taught me," she insisted, "I just can. Please believe me."

"I believe you," he assured her, smiling with affection and perhaps a bit of pride, "T'is an unconventional gift, to be sure. But you're a rare, lass. Extraordinary gifts are to be expected and t'is no shame in it."

"Isn't there?" she asked, her face brightening.

"Nay. As long as it won't be distracting you from your training and your duties, what harm could it do?" At that, her gloom returned and she looked at the stone floor in shame.

"All right, out with it. What harm did it do?" he asked her sternly.

"I was looking for books to read and I snuck into the Archmage's library," she began, and Hudson sighed in exasperation. Even though the Archmage was a servant of the prince, Hudson had never trusted him. Admittedly, he was wary of sorcery in general, but the man himself had a treacherous, callous aura about him that inspired him to order all of his gargoyles to give him a great deal of space.

"I know I shouldn't have, but I didn't think I would do any harm," she continued, " I was reading one of his books and…I think I started a spell."

"What happened, lass," he asked her, unable to mask his apprehension.

"I'm not exactly sure," she admitted, "The air seemed to get very tense and thick and then it was like a great draft blew into the room. I felt so strange, and I started to panic, but then the Archmage caught me and stopped me before anything happened."

Hudson sighed in relief.

"No real harm done, then."

She shook her head in distress, "He said I damaged the book. He said the book was more valuable than I could ever imagine and now I would have to serve him in order to repay him for it. He said if I didn't, he would tell Prince Malcolm what I did and he would have me shattered."

Hudson was mortified that anyone would threaten a child so maliciously over a book, regardless of its value.

"The prince would never do such a thing," he said with stern confidence, "You can be sure of that, lass. But you've managed to get yourself into quite a lot of trouble and you're going to have quite a time getting out of it."

"I suppose that's why they said gargoyles don't read books," she concluded miserably.

"Now look here, my little warrior," he ordered, "You know right enough that you didn't get into this mess by reading books. You got yourself here by sneaking and stealing." If it was possible for her to look more miserable, she did at this admonishment, and Hudson took pity on her.

"But I think you can still put it right, lass."

"How?"

"You tell him he can have the first two hours after each sunset. After that, you're to be back at your post."

"No! Please, no," she cried, "I'm so afraid of him! You should have seen the way he was looking at me!"

"He's only a human," Hudson pointed out.

"But what does he want me for? I'm a gargoyle. I don't know a thing about sorcery! I don't even want to think about what he'll want me doing for him!"

"I'd wager he wants little more than for you to fetch firewood and gather herbs and things in the forest for his spells," he guessed, "And if he were to ever start asking things of you that your heart knows is wrong, you needn't suffer yourself to stay with him any longer. No point in working for a man who's abused the privilege."

"Please," she whimpered, "Please, don't force me." She looked as though she might cry.

"I won't be forcing you, lass," he promised, "It'll be your own choice. But a good warrior does the right thing, especially when there's something owed from them. It's up to you, if you want to make this right." Hudson could tell that she was determined to do the right thing, even through her dread. He squeezed her arm affectionately.

"And lass, if you do make this right, and you continue to do as well in your training as you have been, there's no reason I can see that you shouldn't continue to read as much as you want."

"Really?" she exclaimed with a broad smile.

"Aye," he replied, "A great gift like that should be practiced. I'll be telling the elders myself, that you are permitted to read anything you can get your hands on honestly." She embraced him happily.

"Thank you!"

"But," Hudson warned, "There's to be no more deception and no more mischief."

"You have my word."

"She agreed," Hudson told Angela, "And I took her down to the Archmage and arranged the conditions of her apprenticeship." He stopped and sighed, shaking his head in regret. "I wasn't too fond of the man, but I had no idea what he was. I handed that loving, trusting child over to a wicked, power-hungry maniac and it was years before I realized what a mistake it was."

"Hudson," Angela consoled him, "You were trying to do the right thing."

"Aye, that I was, lass. But I can't help wondering, if things wouldn't have been different had I sent her down a better path. She was mine to protect. To lead. I failed her that night." The fire in the fireplace crackled, issuing welcome warmth as the rain continued to pelt the windowpane. Angela sat with him for a long time in silence. Her mind was swimming with the stories of so many tragic choices. It seemed the world could be such a cruel place and she wondered if Demona was correct that love was their best chance at making it through life in one piece. As she pondered, she heard a soft sound of someone approaching and Goliath opened the door, seeming pleased to have found them there.

"Good evening, lad," Hudson greeted. We were just having a talk.

"Good evening, old friend. I hate to interrupt, but we've finished our patrol and I would have my daughter come and talk with me."