A/N: Thank you so much for your patience in waiting on an update for this piece. I was delighted to learn I have another reader on this piece! Thank you so much for reading. Please feel free to let me know what you think. :)

Broken Wings

Chapter 6

The road's path was familiar to her feet as she ran as quickly as she could. She wished there was a place she could take flight from but there was nothing with which to climb and gain the necessary height. It surprised her that she had no trouble navigating the terrain she hadn't seen in centuries.

She was puffing hard as she skidded to a halt at the edge of the camp, concealed by a small patch of forest. She scanned the tents from her distance. Her eye caught the medical tent, which she sprinted for. She decided she would find Doyle first. Her plan had not been well thought through, she hadn't considered the outcome, she didn't absorb the things Doyle had told her, and she let it slip her mind that she didn't remember a good deal of what had happened around the time of Jacques death.

She burst through the back side of the tent to see Doyle's hands meticulously stitching a wound shut and his head suddenly jerked up at her sudden entrance. He bounced to his feet and stumbled backward in shock, his foot catching the supplies on the floor and throwing him backward out of the front of the tent.

"Doyle!" She heard a voice she hadn't heard in ages, Tara's squall echoed.

"I'm fine." Doyle barked, and Kerry knew that Tara was fawning over him; likely trying to pull him to his feet. Rather than wait she pushed the cloth door back and stepped out into the camp. Several Templars looked up and nodded or smiled. Sloan and Aden were behind Tara and moved close at seeing her while Morrigan seemed shocked at her being there.

Rather suddenly a heavily armored Donavan pushed through the pack to see Kerry standing there, in perfect health. "Because of you our lives area saved Kerry, my life is in your debt." He scooped up her hand and bowed his head.

She stared at him in pure shock, but it was when her eyes flittered back up to Tara then darted over to Aden and Sloan that she was hit with a sudden burst of emotions she hadn't been prepared for. She felt her heart well in her chest and her eyes suddenly brim with tears.

She pulled back from Donavan. "It was nothing, really."

"I'm so glad to see you well!" He leapt to his feet.

Again her hand went to her shoulder.

Morrigan moved in and paced the group in the far back shadows. She was clearly malcontent.

"How can this be?" Donovan scooped her up by her shoulders.

"Nothing could have healed that wound so quickly but sorcery!" Doyle howled.

"What does it matter, I'm well now." Kerry slipped out of Donovan's grasp and took several paces back.

"Sorcery!" Doyle hissed again.

To quell her aching heart, seeing Tara, Sloan, and Aden, she scanned the group for Brooklyn and Lexington – both of which were lingering at the back of the pack. Kerry glanced up at Donovan then bowed her head briefly. "Please sir, may I pass."

At her request he quickly moved to the side aiding in her query. At which point she darted past her clan and leapt onto a rather surprised Brooklyn holding him tightly. "Thank God you're safe." She whispered for only him to hear. In his surprise he was never able to share in her embrace as she pulled off from him and leaned over to Lexington throwing her arms around him too.

"Kerry?" Lexington said tentatively.

She turned to her clan. "If it hadn't been for Brooklyn and Lexington I might not be here."

"Yes…" Morrigan said slowly and suspiciously. "How is it that you came by them Kerry and didn't inform any of us that we have new friends."

Kerry's mind raced as she stared at Morrigan. Reeling in her askew emotions and wondering mind she focused on her leader. Paying close attention to Morrigan's movements she could read her mannerisms and her thoughts through those mannerisms. Morrigan was skeptical of her it was clear. "I happened by them on a scouting mission when I was with Jacques and Curran several months ago. Jacques and Curran were setting up a small camp for the troops and I was checking the terrain. I happened by them at that point. However they were on their way back to Scotland with their clan. Goliath is their clan leader." She peeked over her shoulder at them. "I of course offered for them to stay with us for the daylight hours which Goliath politely refused as they were under time constraints and need to make it back to Castle Wyvern post haste."

Morrigan's tense stride eased with Kerry's tale.

"I had just assumed as they were passing through that it went better left unspoken. Though I must admit," her cheeks were suddenly rosy, "that, despite our brief meeting, I have a certain fondness for them."

Morrigan's eyes darted to Lexington and then to Brooklyn, both of which were looking at Kerry.

"May I have a moment with them…?" She asked.

Morrigan nodded unfalteringly at which point a smug smile was shot at an aggravated Donovan.

Kerry waved them over to the outskirts of the tents knowing all eyes were on the trio.

"What's going on Kerry?" Brooklyn questioned as soon as they were out of earshot distance.

"How did you get here? How did we get here?" Lexington added.

Kerry heaved a great breath. "This is a long story in the making and it's too bad that Curran isn't here to tell it…"

"What year is this?" Brooklyn shot another question.

"That I'm not positive on, when you are in war for as many years as we've been at this point it's hard to remember days and months and even years. Though sometime in the fourteenth century I'm pretty sure."

"Are you immortal?" Lexington asked suddenly.

There was a long pause and finally Kerry nodded. "Yes, though not of our own volition – we're cursed with it."

"Was your clan once bigger than this?" Brooklyn shot at her.

"When were you born?" Lexington added.

"STOP!" Kerry snapped, breathing hard. She shook her head and knelt on the ground. "This is just as overwhelming for you as it is for me. Understand I'm just glad to see you both safe." She glanced over her shoulder at her clan then back to the sandy ground in front of her. She dropped her head into her hands and tears came. "I've missed them, I didn't realize how much."

Lexington sat down beside her and Brooklyn knelt next to her, where he placed a hand on her shoulder. "We know how you feel: when the assassins destroyed our clan overnight I think we were guilt that we had survived."

Lexington nodded. "It was awful."

"But I could walk over there now and tell them what to do to avoid a horrible fate." She shook her head and looked up to both of them. "Let me explain how we came to be as we are and partly how you got here too…"

Rain was coming in hard sheets across the Irish countryside where a small Franciscan monastery was nestled in a green mountainside. A small band of peasants were fighting the wind and chilling precipitation. They were accepted by a kind abbot behind the protective walls of the monastery. When the rain stopped, just before morning dawned, the pleasant abbot made his way across the grounds to the vacant cells where the peasants had been granted shelter to find them missing and seven infant creatures in their place. They were varying in age, none being older than a human toddler. To his shock and dismay he found them to appear as creatures of legend harboring a slight appearance to demons. However the babies possessed no malice when he went to them – rather they reached out to him as human children would. A crudely written note was left with the creatures: 'Can not keep them, please offer them a good home – they are kind beings. Stone by day, flesh by night.' The possibility of turning them away never crossed his mind as that wasn't conducive to the vows he had willing accepted some years ago.

"We will keep them and raise them as they should be." The abbot informed the other monks at breakfast. "They are resting in a statue form now. I have selected names for each of them. I will research any information I can about them."

Morrigan was named first, for her obvious pull to leadership. Abbot Connelly had named her 'war goddess', Morrigan, for her keen logical eye. Curran was second to find a title. Several times he was found watching over the others, intervening to help when he could. So 'hero', Curran, became his name. The only one to cross Morrigan was the tall lanky child – he became Sloan, 'warrior'. Both Tara and Kerry were easily named – for despite being the smallest and webbed in her wings Tara was often found climbing the hillsides of Ireland or earning her way to the highest points within the monastery – therefore she became 'hillside', Tara. Kerry was an introspective toddler. She was often found sky-gazing or interested in flowers, plants and nature but kept clean without the monks knowing how she did it; they found her like a princess but not a traditional one for she was not a human so she became 'dark princess', Kerry. Aden was a handful always mischievous and therefore earned the title 'little fire' - Aden. Doyle baffled the abbot, he was not like any child the abbot had ever come across. He played little and found interest in the way things worked. He learned with ease and enjoyed it over running in the sun with his brothers and sisters. He was the final of the seven to find the name 'dark foreigner', Doyle.

With time the abbot found stories of myth about a race of gargoyles that were stone by day and protectors by night.

As they grew the seven showed obvious natural signs that they were of the same race of mythological protectors. They were cared for communally among the monks, each of which adored having them among their walls. They loved their monk fathers and leader Abbot Connelly. The monks taught them of reading and writing in the scriptorium. They instructed them in breading of plants. The gargoyle family was loved and educated in all the modern ways of the world in the eleventh century. Each gargoyle showed an aptitude for something and the monks catered to those strengths as best they could. They were talk to pray as well as biblical stories and educated heavily in theology.

There was but one who looked upon the family as demons, creatures of the devil. He often voiced his distaste for the beings that were there to only tempt their humanity and create havoc on the small monastery. His ideals were dismissed by all the other monks and he was often reprimanded by the abbot for his unnecessary cruelty.

Animosity grew between the adolescent gargoyles and the single monk, Brother Moreau, that didn't approve of their existence. One day, when the gargoyles were old enough to argue for themselves, a dispute arose between the quickly maturing Morrigan and the narrow minded monk.

"You are not meant to live!" Hissed the bull headed man of the cloth. "You are soulless creatures of the devil and you should be put to death." With that he snatched up a knife that had been placed at the dinner table and brought it down to an unmoving Morrigan's throat where he paused awaiting her response.

She stood stead in her tracks, chin raised allowing the delicate flesh on her neck to be exposed. "I will not stop you." She said serenely. "Your life is for you to choose what to do with. I'm not afraid to die, even at your hands brother. For I know where my afterlife will lead me. But you must ask yourself, are you positive I'm soulless and if not where would taking my life land you."

His faith was clearly shaken as he replaced the knife onto the dining table. He retreated quickly from the room leaving them for the moment. The abbot had gone to Morrigan and took her in his aging arms into a hearty embrace. "You've always been a brilliant one my dear, but I still must apologize for his doing – this type of behavior can not be tolerated."

"I only spoke the truth father." Morrigan mused. "It's his faith that needs to be shaken to see what he really believes. And as I said, I'm not afraid to die."

Within an hour brother Moreau had come to the aging abbot with his sincerest apologies, at which point he offered up a truce to which he wanted to offer the gargoyles the following night. He asked the abbot to bring himself and the seven gargoyles to the dining hall.

At his request the seven arrived with the abbot. A table of nine wine goblets were arranged among a tray of vegetables from the garden that brother Moreau had taken special care in arranging.

Talk went kindly among the small group when brother Moreau offered a toast to the gargoyles. He handed each a goblet which they took happily. There was a momentary lull where he placed his own goblet aside and returned to lift his cup, unknowingly having switched cups with Abbot Connelly. He raised his glass.

"To a new found respect and friendship."

Each echoed cheers and took a swallow. The moment the liquid touched their lips and passed their throats they knew something was awry. It felt for a moment as if each of them could not breathe and they clutched their throats or gasped for air. Pain arched up from their chest and raced through their blood, each reacting in their own way.

Abbot Connelly was trying to pull Kerry to her feet as she clawed at the air while shouting at brother Moreau. "What have you done?" But the abbot was surprised to see the young monk writhing on the ground himself.

Surprised the abbot looked back at the goblets, and it was only in that moment that he realized their cups had been changed. As quickly as it happened it was over and the gargoyles were climbing to their feet wondering what had happened to them.

Brother Moreau's furrowed brow and overcast expression was that of horror when he howled. "Damn you beasts! DAMN YOU ALL! And you abbot." He spat. "This curse was meant for you, you love your demons – you were supposed to live forever with them. Now I will have to suffer their existence for eternity!" And with that brother Moreau fled the castle. Curran and Sloan made to follow but Morrigan called them back.

"Oh Morrigan." Connelly cried. "This is a disastrous deed he's cursed you with."
"But why? If he hates us so much would he choose to cause eternal life? Grant us a gift of that magnitude? And what sort of devilry would he have had to accomplish to earn such a thing?" Aden asked.

"I don't even want to begin to consider who he sold his soul to in order to cause us this sort of fate." Morrigan was starring out the darkened window. "But it is now done and at no fault of our own other than to accept an extended olive branch. As for his choice, it was not spite as you might first assume. Nor is it a gift." Morrigan touched Tara's head and then pulled her close. "It was my words and therefore I'm at the root of this. I told him I wasn't afraid to die and that I knew where fate would lead me in the afterlife. I'm certain his intention was to allow us to never have an afterlife, particularly one that he might have to share with us. Now he's just going to have to share existence forever with us."

"A fate he had hoped for me." Connelly said. "It was meant for me to never age with you."

Morrigan's gentleness was pointed at her mentor. "God protected you old friend. Consider it a gift."

"I'm sorry to have let this happen to you." The old abbot almost looked as if he'd cry but Morrigan reached over to him.

"Do not be sorry, have no grief. We will incorporate this into whom and what we are. We'll learn to grow with it and we'll continue to serve our natural duty of protection as it is our way until we do die – perhaps in battle."

"You can't stay here, he might change his mind and come back to destroy you during the day." Connelly said.

"We will not leave you." Morrigan assured the old man. "This is our home and we will protect it until the last stone crumbles, whether that is tomorrow or in several millennia."

"No, I will not let you stay here in the same danger. I know a bigger cause you can serve. My cousin in France is part of a secret organization called the Knight's Templar. They are fighting a holy war with good cause – to protect the holy road in which pilgrims traverse in their holy journeys. I think you would server their cause well. You can protect them, meanwhile they'll do the same for you. I'll write him immediately."

There was a bit of concern that passed between the abbot and his clan but with time they were made to realize it would be the best course for them and they became one of the many secrets the Templars held in their order. Meanwhile the gargoyles fit easily into the holy protection order waging a war of protection. However, in the shadows the brother Moreau did not forget the devil created beasts that caused him to curse himself with immortality and he slowly began to build followers who thought extermination of the demons was integral to the ongoing existence of humanity.

Brooklyn and Lexington starred at Kerry in shock. She nodded, "I know; it sounds as twisted and crazy as your own past."

"Was it Moreau's men that cast the spell that brought us here?" Lexington asked.

"Yes, undoubtedly. He has chased us across the globe and back again. We have remained under the care of the Templars for centuries. They feel the need to assist us as we assisted them. Our relationship is strong with the Templars. We truly are but one of their many secrets. Moreau never forgot what Morrigan told him about taking our lives and insinuating that that would lead him straight to hell. However he's so corrupt at this point we're never sure if he wants to enslave us or murder us. Either is just as likely. And now it seems as though he has an entire wing of the church at his beckon call. He goes in and out of favor of various popes; it's hard to say what he's up to. There are decades where we go without hearing form him at all and others where we can't escape. Not a day goes by that I don't wish it had been the abbot who'd taken a swig from that poisoned cup. As selfish as it is of me."

"Any idea on how to get us back?" Brooklyn asked helping Kerry to her feet.

"None, for now I think we're just going to have to ride it and see what happens. I came by a magic crystal some time ago that would grant me the strength to breech time but one time. That's how I came to be here."

"I'm glad you're here." Brooklyn nudged her.

She grinned up at him. "Me too."

"We better get back to the clan before they start suspecting something." Lexington jammed a thumb over his shoulder at the group who was still watching them curiously.

"Yes, Morrigan will only buy my story for so long. For now I think we're just going to have to evade questions. And if the time comes we might have to tell her…but I'd rather avoid it if possible."

Brooklyn and Lexington nodded in agreement and reluctantly made their way back to the others.