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Souls of the Night

83.

It was thirty minutes before sunset when David Xanatos' heli landed on the helicopter platform. For several years, various subsidiaries of Xanatos Enterprises had been trying their hand at electric propulsion, particularly for air travel, but it were the technicians at Lexa ltd. who had managed to extend the efficiency of the lithium-ion battery to match the range, power, flight speed and flight duration of a normal gasoline-powered helicopter. Nevertheless, the aircraft was still in the testing phase. In addition, the government had made it a requirement that all helicopters had to mimic the sounds of a normal machine. For flight safety, so that everyone knew - apart from the propellers whirring through the air, which could separate your head from your body - that the machine was running or threatening to fly past.

That's why the helicopter didn't land as silently as it could have.

Hutch - Xanatos` pilot pressed buttons, flipped little switches, talked into his mike with the air traffic control of the nearest airport to tell that the bird was in the eyrie while the occupants were already disembarking.

A slim man with a short silver haircut and a greay beard jumped out of the back door of the helicopter, turned around and held out his hand to help his companion get out. Not that Fox needed David Xanatos' help - she would have the strength and agility of her forty-year-old self for many years to come, just as Xanatos would have the strength he had at 52. They had stood still in time. Until the hour of their natural death. It was not quite what David Xanatos had been seeking for several years - but it was quite good. Except that they took a long vacation annually and came back a little grayer each year to better deceive the public. Whereby the high society of New York tried again and again to get behind the secret of the appearance of the billionaire couple, which had hardly changed for more than fifteen years. The common people on the streets were quicker to stop guessing. They considered stars and rich people to be beings from another star anyway. They blamed everything on excellent surgeons, beauty tinctures and training with a thousand and one life- and sports coaches. But the other rich and beautiful people - well - some of them knew what a doctor was capable of and what he was not capable of. Those who looked like they were fifty when they were over seventy - without filters - had to put up with a lot of nosy questions. Which is why the vacation this year also included another thing.

How well that had worked out, however, Owen could not yet estimate, because both his master and his consort wore sunglasses. In addition, much too thin clothing, which Owen had expected. David Xanatos would rather swallow razor blades than be seen in shorts apart from his swimming pool or at the private resort but jeans and a dark shirt were already quite casual for him. Ditto for Fox. They both greeted him as he helped them into warmer coats and the pilot unloaded their bags.

"How was the flight?" asked Owen with his usual casual politeness, and Xanatos knew he meant only the last leg and not the flight from Bali by private jet.

"Any car ride would have been bumpier, Owen. Thanks for the attempt at small talk."

"I'm in constant practice, Mister Xanatos."

His employer removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the lapel of his shirt. Owen tilted his head in consideration.

"What? Just spill the beans."

"Not as much of a change as I would have expected."

"It was supposed to look older - not old." Owen turned his gaze from the tiny crow's feet in the corners of his master's eyes to his lady of the heart with the gray streaks in her still very thick - everlasting thick - red hair. She likewise took off her glasses. Her crow's feet also suited her beyond measure. It made her more approachable and warmer.

Owen nodded coolly. "It continues to be a mystery to me why Puck could not have instructed Master Alex in this spell."

"Is it so hard to imagine that I would not want my own son to use a spell to make his mother old?"

"Older, my dear. Just a little older. And I thought it made sense to use our vacation as well to entrust the matter to the witches in Bali, and at the same time make business connections that way. What says better- I'm the right person to build two thousand floating wind turbines off your main island than to put myself in their hands for this tiny intervention?"

"And it wouldn't be as if that intervention was permanent." Fox lifted the tiny gold pendant that dangled around a short chain around Xanato's neck and the crow's feet disappeared. Just a moment before the pendant was back against his skin.

"It's not like I want to wake up one morning and not recognize the man I married."

"How do the others do it?" asked David, playfully perplexed.

"Separate bedrooms?" she opined, and as they both laughed, Owen noticed that the "'intervention' had also included tiny laugh lines around their mouths. He couldn't help smirking himself, though that was thanks to Puck, who was glad to see his entertaining employers back. He was still a little miffed that he, or rather Alexander had not been allowed to cast a spell on the couple - but of course THEIR spell would have been permanently burned into the bodies of the two - where would the fun be otherwise? But that aside, Owen was glad that his employer called for an update before they even reached the elevator.

"I hear we have a clan addition?" Owen pulled out his phone and scrolled through his abstract. "I have sent you all the files about Mister Sharif - File Name: The Blue One, so you can sift through them later."

"The Blue One? He's blue?" muttered Fox, taking the phone from him.

"Not a very impressive specimen like Goliath but presentable with proper care by the clan - in my estimation."

Xanatos and Fox exchanged smirks and amused glances behind Owen Burnett's back. Which he passed over.

"They also call him Princess and Hercules." At that, both people laughed.

"That's obviously from Nashville. I love the kid," Xanatos commented.

"Why those names?" asked Fox.

"Photos after the first third under his bio and medical history," Owen commented. She showed her husband the screen on which, presumably, Nathaniel's photos were glowing. There were two. One of him as a human - which had been captured by the lobby's surveillance cameras. Sad, skinny, with a swollen nose. And one as a gargoyle.

"Really an improvement. As was to be expected from our son. If he's already cobbling together a mate for Lexington, he's not making it any worse than it already was. I'm sure Broadway is already feeding him!" commented Xanatos.

"I won the bet, by the way."

The Billionaire patted his coat pockets. "I'll give you the dollar later, my dear, I'm low on funds right now." They both laughed again which made Owen guess that they had bet on what sexual orientation the clan's technician would show should he eventually be open to a relationship. That bet was probably decades old.

"He's really very delicate," Fox said somewhat pityingly.

"I think the names are more a reference to his character. Mister Sharif is ... anything but a typical gargoyle. Whereby it is probably racist to speak of something typical among them. His new shape - even though he has a hard time gliding - is not a problem. But something else certainly is. See last third of abstract."

Scrolling again. To the third image. At this one, both people exchanged a much more serious look. It showed Nathaniel Sharif steaming right after waking up. The elevator opened in the great hall and they stepped out.

"We would currently be at 45 to 60 degrees when Mister Sharif breaks out of his stone skin. According to the thermal imaging drone I have circling over the castle in the evening hours. But it seems he's working - perhaps subconsciously - to control the heat output."

"And you can't tell us where this abnormality is coming from?"

"You know the terms of the agreement between Puck and Oberon. I am not empowered to share what Puck knows with mortals. What I have been able to do, I have had work done and preparations made."

"Preparations like defacing just about every room in the castle with water sprinklers?"

"For the boy's protection and teaching. That's what Oberon said. Which allowed Owen Burnett to equip the castle where Master Alex lives for any accidents. I also took the liberty of purchasing five hundred fire extinguishers and distributing them throughout the building as far as possible. Where they were not already there anyway."

Fox took a deep breath. "I don't like the idea of having someone like Nathaniel in the castle. But my son is responsible for his condition." Xanatos patted her hand which was in his arm and gave her the smile that now looked a little different but still characterized that of the self made man, strategist and Machiavellian better than a thousand words would have done. Whereas the last trait in relation to the gargoyles had faded into the background in the last years. He had found pleasure in being the patron saint of the non-humans and hid his not-so-clean machinations from them much better than before in order not to alienate his colorful lodgers.

"Yes, my dear. Alexander's magic seems to be working again in an unexpected direction here. It is only right that we support Mister Sharif in his unusual situation. And just imagine if he had this ability under control at some point. What he could do with it? Aside from heating the Jacuzzi at low cost."

Fox tucked her hair behind her ear. "Oh David, you've got plans spinning in your head again. But no matter what you concoct, that would require Nathaniel to stay as he is now. No matter what he decides to do, I wouldn't begrudge them both if this thing works out. I always thought it was sad that Lexington was alone."

"You're making an effort to make up for your past sins toward him even after almost thirty years."

"As you will strive all your life."

"Quite true."

Xanatos looked at his own cell phone. Five minutes until sunset.

"So- do you want to withdraw, or are you coming along to greet the newest member of the family?"

"Oh please. My jet lag would never keep me from seeing a living tea kettle."

They strode toward the outside but Fox continued to sum up the new couple in the castle as if they were the subject of an article in a gossip magazine. Which Fox really enjoyed reading for several years.

" - whereas these days, interracial relationships can work, too."

"Although a human Nathaniel Sharif would be less fun for everyone," Xanatos cut in as they strolled through the castle courtyard toward the tower. Where the streets of New York were already forever in deep shadow, up here they were still being spoiled by the last evening sun.

"At this point I may remark that some members of the clan are already making an effort to attract Mister Sharif. Especially the young ones."

"With his relationship with Lexington? Do they scatter rose petals in his room and play songs of Billy Joel?"

"With his well-being in the clan-" Owen explained, " -in his body, with his new abilities. Lexington is already taking care of his physical comfort intensely- even without Billy Joel."

"Please tell me you've been hiding cameras in their room."

"Fox, you're getting kinky again. I'd favor Goliath and Elisa."

"But gay relationships are candy. Don't worry about it, David. I haven't met Nathaniel yet, but if he's anything like what I imagine a partner who can put up with Lexington's technobabble would be, he'd drop dead if you suggested the two of them do joint activities with us."

"Very well - let's postpone that thought until one no longer burns his fingers on Nathaniel."

"To my amazement, no burn ointment has been requested yet. And that's despite the fact that Lexington can barely keep his fingers to himself ." Quite uncharacteristically Owen rolled his eyes. It was really Owen - not Puck. After all, Puck thought gay relationships were candy, too - what a surprise!

"Well, who would have expected that from the little guy?"

"I did- that's why I don't forget the dollar you owe me, dearest."

Then the humans (and cloaked Fey) were standing on the second level of the tower - when the first crack and splinter could already be heard, and the first inhuman howl came from the still stone-covered grimaces of the gargoyles. And just like when the clan first woke up - when they had no names, no home, no knowledge of this world and time, and their fate had been solely in David Xanato's hands - he felt this almost manic elation (and yes - also this mixture of disbelief and shock, which, despite knowing better, clings to every person's brain when he witnesses something like this). He felt it again and again - every time - for thirty years when he watched the awakening of the clan. It was hard to get used to something like that, it was always a feast for the eyes, primal- reaching beyond all limits of physics.

The spectators retreated briefly into the archway. Alexander had once almost lost an eye as a child when one of the stone splinters had gotten into his eye because he had not wanted to listen to stay out of the "splash zone". Xanatos and Fox waited until the evening ritual of growling, snarling, screeching and yawning - half physical necessity, half expression of well-being - was over, then they stepped in front of Owen behind them. Goliath leaped down to them. He was no longer leader of the clan. But as much as one should avoid the mighty gargoyle in his furious or agitated state - it was natural and easy to interact with him when he had no cause to be angry. Those who did not know him might have interpreted his distinguished reticence as coldness. But now he smiled mildly and extended a hand to Xanatos. Xanatos gripped his forearm as Goliath gripped his. A gargoyle tradition, a gargoyle handshake - by now so ingrained in the clan's human confidants that Xanatos had really tried to shake the mayor's hand like this last year. An awkward situation like when two teens from different parts of the country meet and can't agree on the same greeting. Strange, ungainly, clumsy. At least since Corona, people could have agreed on this kind of handshake. Instead of waving elbows and knees around.

"Good evening, Xanatos," said the mentor of the clan in his warm voice that seemed to come not only from the depths of his massive chest but from the warm belly of the earth itself. Xanatos, not David - as it had been for years and years - that pleased the billionaire. Just as the Gargoyle did not comment on how he now looked. Her castlemates knew what Fox and he had been in Bali for, among other things. There would be no chatter and questioning or comments about this and that "intervention". He and Fox would have enough of that in the coming weeks from the cream of the town and the gossip magazines.

"Hello Goliath. Was everything quiet while we were gone?

A not really pleased snort could be heard from Goliath. "Comparatively," he said somewhat cryptically, looking in the direction where Heathers and Lexington's sleeping spot were. And between them-just before the parapet but not itself on one of the battlements- stood another gargoyle. Petrified. Still stone.

"That's - began Fox, amazed.

"- another little side effect," Owen commented.

Broadway had jumped from his pinnacle, greeted Xanatos and Fox and this ritual- sometimes with a armshake, sometimes with a pat on the back, sometimes with a polite nod was repeated with each member of the family- including Brooklyn and his entourage as they glided in. Heather - who had been drilled since birth that one should never jump or climb up on humans, admired Fox's beautiful new "wrinkles" and let her pet her head. Xanatos and Nashville exchanged nods, even Tachi patted him on the upper arm in greeting before wordlessly retreating - perhaps to do some business in her workshop before breakfast. It was obvious that everyone had already gotten used to this strange sight of a fellow species petrified even after sunset. Only Lexington sat glued to his pinnacle, his tail wrapped around one of Nathaniel's stone legs, as if he needed to make sure of him - and perhaps a little to protect him from the humans. When they looked at him, he nodded wordlessly with an earnestness that almost incited comments.

Both came closer, stepping next to the statue. It was really just a statue. No sign of awakening, let alone magical warmth.

Fox had seen in the photos that Nathaniel had looked quite good as a gargoyle- but his stone image, though more angular, was also aesthetically pleasing. The menacing gargoyle facial expression - mouth agape, teeth bared, eye area narrowed in quite believable rage - that his features displayed was, disconcertingly, hardly supported by his body pose. Though his wings were open (not spread wide), and his hands clenched into cramped fists on his assigned pinnacle, the statue pressed around in front of the battlement like a dissatisfied customer in front of a bar counter. Perhaps this is what Owen had meant by "not a typical gargoyle." Still, Fox could see a strangely beautiful elegance - a grace untypical of men even in the frozen image of the person Lexington had apparently chosen as his mate.

Just a few kilos and muscles more - thought Fox and raised her hand to run over the stony dreadlocks and the refined curved forehead horns, unseen before on a gargoyle. A hand barely larger than her own sprang forward and grasped her wrist. Olive green - with two shattered claws. This is new thought Fox, and immediately considered from whom she could best milk the details of this story.

"Don't touch!" hissed Lexington - for a second his eyes glowed, then the brightness vanished and his features smoothed out. "He - can wake up anytime," muttered the smallest of the clan, and now sat down on the pinnacle of his dearest. Where he immediately - perhaps unconsciously - went back to wrapping his tail around his friend's forearm.

"- He gets hot when he wakes up - Owen has already told us that. Thanks for not wanting anyone to get hurt," Fox said softly, really wanting to believe for a moment that Lexington had prevented her from touching his mate - even if only his statue - out of a need for protection towards the others. But she was too smart not to know better. Lexington had been able to act politely and neutrally with her for decades. But what she had done to him - her and the Pack - in a period of imprinting - he would never forget. He forgave - but he never forgot. In fact, Fox thought, it had been a double imprinting period for Lexington, new at the time, and as a teenager.

She couldn't blame him for becoming very possessive and protective of his mate, especially toward her. She took a step back and smiled where Lexington had again just unhappily placed his hand on his lover's stone fist - as if latter would feel his touch or even notice his closeness.

"How long has Mister Sharif been petrified longer?" asked David with interest.

"Varies," Brooklyn admitted. "Between five and fifteen minutes."

"Fascinating," Xanatos mused, and Lexington made a low snapping noise that probably only the gargoyles and Fox beside him heard.

But before anyone else could say anything, Lexington's head jerked up. He looked at the statue for a moment, then released his tail from the stone, jumped up and onto the battlement next to Fox. He pulled her back a little by the mantle - for a moment more angel of the night than fussy partner.

"He's waking up!" he proclaimed the second a hiss could be heard alongside the typical stone splintering and gargoyle sounds. Water vapor seemed to be coming from the cracks and fissures that stretched across his day-skin just as quickly as normal gargoyles. Where the skin cracked, white smoke came out over blue - velvety blue skin. Even nearly two meters away, Fox felt the heat radiating from the body. Warm air blew her hair. Air? Where does the air come from, what body emits wind? Fox asked herself. And at the same time shook her head at herself. What body produced air itself? Which body smoked and steamed, which skin seemed to boil? It was useless to ask for logic when it came to magic. She was half Fey, but she didn't understand any of it and didn't want to understand it because it reminded her of her mother's almost lifelong lie.

Just as quickly as born Gargoyles awoke, inanimate matter had again become flesh pulsating with life. Now Nathaniel Sharif stood before his pinnacle, his head bowed, his eyes closed. He inhaled and exhaled deeply - almost as if he were doing breathing exercises - which he probably really did to push back the heat radiating from him. His hands stroked the scratch marks on the perch that he himself had just made when he woke up. And really - faster than expected, the hot steam that Nathaniel's skin had given off evaporated, and even from her vantage point, Fox could now only feel the March chill on her cheeks.

And immediately Lexington was at his side, hovering his hand over his cheek for a moment, making sure it was safe to touch the blue gargoyle. Then he stroked his cheek, and Nathaniel nestled into that touch as if Lexington's skin were silk. He opened his eyes and smiled. That sequence of tiny gestures described their relationship where an entire book could not have, and Fox instantly stepped to her own spouse. She stood beside him and her fingers found his. There was no doubt that Nathaniel would soon be added to the family register - whether he would be human or not.

As Lexington and Nathaniel were still quietly exchanging words of greeting, her husband took a step forward and for the first time the eyes of the new gargoyle - created by her son - lifted. They were ice blue. Gargoyles usually had dark or black eyes. But no sooner did Fox consider whether these strange eyes seemed piercing and unpleasant to her than Nathaniel reacted gargoyle-unlike, flattened his velvety, somewhat drooping ears and took a step back, grasping Lexington's arm for protection at the sight of the unfamiliar humans. He looked back and forth between all the members of the clan - looking for signs that something was wrong. Or at least something beyond the usual level was wrong. It was just a reflex- but even for a human, disconcertingly timid. She smiled meekly as her husband did. Fox knew that, unfortunately, they both always looked a little shifty. In her case because of the fox tattoo above her eye. In David's case because he was just him.

"Mister Sharif," David Xanatos said. "Good evening."

"Good evening," Nathaniel returned a bit shyly, but now raised his eyes again.

"You know who I am? Who this wonderful woman next to me is?" He patted Fox's arm. Charmer.

The Blue one smiled somewhat bashfully and nodded, giving his answer very politely and seemingly collected again. How could he not know them both? Even those who didn't get newspapers, rode magazines or watch television knew who they were. At least in New York.

"Mister Xanatos. Mrs. Xanatos. I wanted ... to thank both of you for letting me live here temporarily. Until ... everything gets back to normal. I'll try not to be a burden to you.

Fox and David exchanged amused glances at the sentences, which the man in front of them had surely thought up days ago.

"Oh, Mister Sharif, we are not used to so much politeness. Especially not when it was our son who put you in this state. Without you being able to influence it. And there is no such thing as normal for us. Consider yourself less as our guest or as a guest of the clan - but as a family member. No need to curtsy to us."

At this, Nashville laughed in the background.

"And be sure-," Fox mollified her husband's ambiguous words, who was taking in the gargoyle's face with satisfaction, which turned shame-red (shame-purple) at the wording, "-that you are not a burden to us. The clan and the human inhabitants and employees of the castle have much less contact than you might think. You will hardly ever see us. Which doesn't mean you and I can't swap a few stories over coffee and cake. Please ... you may call me Fox and my husband David.«

Where the clan's newcomer's face brightened joyfully at her warm and reassuring words, Lexington pushed his lower lip forward suspiciously. Yes- Fox wanted to be on good terms with him- but she couldn't quite restrain herself from poking him a little - on very special occasions.

She had seen enough and said enough for the moment. The jet lag gnawed at her brain and would force her to bed early. Her husband probably felt the same way, because as quickly as the members of the clan dispersed, they were also happy to wish everyone a good night.

At the 83rd chapter I thought it was time to remember that David and Fox Xanatos still exist. Not quite the same as in 1996 - but twenty years ago I could do the splits where I would break my hip today. And they have billions of dollars and magic at hand - from other stars - as I said.

I like them because I can make them beautifully messed up (they are rich- decency and morality is for paupers) but still they will only have small roles. I have to keep my staff manageable.

Thanks for reading, Q.T.