The next night, Angela awoke in the antechamber of Demona's cell, but when she turned to look for Demona, she found the cell empty, unsecured, and judging by a strong, chemical smell, recently cleaned. Puzzled, she hurried along to meet the rest of the clan, wondering what the night would bring.
She had returned to Demona the night before, finding her far less willing to talk about anything of significance. Angela had apologized for leaving her so angrily, but Demona had brushed her off, insisting that she didn't blame her for being angry. Angela had promised her that she could trust her, and Demona had chided her for making such promises, insisting that promises were made for trapping fools. Discouraged, Angela was wondering if it wasn't best for her to leave for the night, albeit with a far more collected attitude than before, but then Demona had asked something strange of her. She pulled a book from the shelf and asked Angela if she might read it to her. Angela couldn't imagine why Demona would want to be read to, but Angela was happy to do it as she really didn't want to leave her yet but couldn't really think of anything else to talk about. So, she sat down beside her on the floor and read aloud to her for the last hour or so until dawn. Angela had half expected that the book Demona had handed her would have some sort of hidden meaning or lesson that Demona wanted her to know, but after a short time of reading the rather mundane mystery novel, Angela doubted that Demona cared much for or about the book she was reading from. She wondered if, like her, she merely wanted them to remain in one another's company but was feeling too vulnerable to talk anymore.
Now she hurried to join her friends for their evening patrol, and she found Broadway and Lexington, raiding the food laid out in the dining room.
"Hey!" Lexington greeted her enthusiastically, "You're with us tonight. Brooklyn and Goliath already left." Broadway was piling multiple pastries in a paper box with one hand while enjoying half a cantaloupe with the other.
"Come get some breakfast!" he insisted, "You must be hungry!" And she realized he was right as she hadn't eaten in some time. The three of them took their meal out on the battlement, where the evening was clear and pleasant at last.
"It's good to be out in the wind tonight," Angela commented, and Broadway and Lexington glanced at each other with concern.
"Are things going all right down there?" Lexington asked timidly.
"Yes," Angela answered, "At least, I think they are."
"Will she talk to you at all?" Broadway asked her.
"Oh yes! At times, I've been surprised at how much she's shared."
"Just be careful," Broadway warned her, "She's not known for being trustworthy."
"Actually," she replied sheepishly, "I'm the one who proved untrustworthy last night." She told them about what had happened.
"You know," Broadway thought out loud, "You have a perfect right to be angry."
"I know I do," Angela explained, "But what will anger gain me, really? After I got angry and walked out last night, Demona would barely speak to me at all. All she wanted was for me to read to her."
"Read what?" Lexington asked suspiciously. He couldn't think of any valid reason Demona would need someone else to read to her.
"It was just some mystery novel that was on the shelf. I don't think she cared what I read. She just didn't want me to leave yet."
"I wonder if she'll ever want to spend time with us again," Lexington thought out loud. Both Angela and Broadway looked at him in surprise.
"Would you even want to spend time with her?" Broadway asked incredulously. Lexington shrugged.
"I wouldn't even know what to say if I did," Lexington admitted, "It's kind of hard to generate small talk with someone who held a bazooka in your face, wanting to blow you to smithereens. How do you come back from that?"
"I know what I'd say!" Broadway declared, suddenly incensed, "I'd say 'What did we ever do to you?'" Lexington nodded in earnest agreement.
"Yeah, and 'We thought you were our friend!" Lexington added angrily.
"We trusted you! We looked up to you!" Broadway shouted, his voice echoing against the stone walls of the castle.
"We loved you! We would have done anything for you!"
"We could have really used your help, trying to adjust to a whole new century on our own!"
"And finding a safe place to live when we couldn't stay in the castle!"
"And where were you to tell us to 'stand tall' and 'work together' and 'not give up'?"
"Don't you even care how much you've hurt Goliath?"
"Didn't you even see how lost he was without you?"
"Did it even occur to you how worried we were that you would get captured by the Hunters or Macbeth and we'd have no way of even knowing?"
"Did you know how much we missed you and wanted you to come home?"
"Did you know how we grieved for you when we had to accept that was never going to happen?"
Their rage had decrescendoed into sadness and now there was an awkward silence. Lexington was the first to break it.
"Do you guys remember when we held her prisoner in the labyrinth, and we were all supposed to take turns guarding her?"
"Yeah," Broadway sneered coldly, and Angela nodded.
"Well, I wanted to say all those things to her then. But whenever I went to take my turn guarding her, she just turned away and refused to even look at me. I felt all the things I wanted to say burning in my mind, but I couldn't say them to her like that. So, I just glared into space and ignored her."
"I couldn't say them either," Broadway confessed, "I mostly read a book. I wanted to tell her off, but I didn't want her to know how much she'd hurt me, so I just stared at my book. I was sure she'd say something about my finally having learned to read. You remember how hard she tried to teach me? But she never said a word. I caught her looking at me a couple times, but then she would just look away."
"Yeah," Lexington agreed, "I kept telling myself the next time it was my turn, I would try to talk to her then. But then it was the same every time."
"Until we found out she was planning to murder us all and replace us with clones," Broadway pointed out. Lexington groaned and shook his head.
"I still can't believe that. It doesn't even sound real, and I was there and saw it with my own eyes," he said incredulously.
"You know, you guys," Angela told them, "You could go talk to her now."
The suggestion was met with a cringe from both of them.
"I mean, even if she can't answer you, or won't answer you, at least she'd hear you."
"She wouldn't have much of a choice but to hear us now," Broadway pointed out.
"We'd better get going," Angela changed the subject, "At this rate, Goliath and Brooklyn will have returned before we've left!" The others agreed and the three of them soared along the west side, hovering over the blocks they knew were often the most trouble. But the night was uncharacteristically quiet and there was no reason for them to linger anywhere. Heading back toward midtown, Angela suggested that they give some extra attention to the park, partly because it was a known hotbed of nightly mischief, but mostly because she was enjoying the clear, cool air and was yearning to see some green space. The three of them landed on the rocks adjoining a model Romanesque castle, built alongside a small lake. It was a pleasant scene, with the colorful lights of the city reflecting on the dark water of the lake.
"She taught you to read?" Angela asked Broadway suddenly. Lexington chortled.
"She taught the rest of us to read. She tried to teach Broadway too, but he was too stubborn!" he teased.
"Goliath mentioned something about that too," she recalled.
"She taught everyone in their rookery who was wanted to learn," Broadway explained.
"Yeah, but our rookery didn't get a choice in the matter!" Lexington interjected.
Lexington recounted the story: It was a frigid, winter night and all the hatchlings, including the older ones, were being kept safe and warm within the rookery, which was located in a cave, below the foundation of the castle. The older hatchlings were weary with boredom as they had been indoors for a fortnight, and they'd become a downright nuisance to the rookery mothers who were nursing the infant hatchlings. Consequently, they had been commanded to play in the large, dug out corridors leading to the castle courtyard and the sea caves in the cliffs below. Lexington recalled being alerted to the sound of raised voices coming from outside the large wooden doors that opened into the courtyard. The curious hatchlings ran to the doors to try and hear what was going on outside, and recognized the voice of Goliath, who had recently been appointed as second in command of the clan. To their surprise, he sounded quite agitated.
"And you shall stay in the rookery until you learn some respect!" Goliath shouted. The hatchlings whispered amongst themselves in astonishment. He'd only been in a position of authority a short while, so they hadn't seen much of his disciplinary methods, but it was certainly unlike him to shout at anyone that way. They wondered who was getting the scolding and, more interestingly, what they had done to deserve it. They were quite surprised when the door swung open to reveal Goliath leading his own mate into the corridor. She had a look of pure defiance as she pushed his arm away from her contemptuously and stomped past the troop of curious hatchlings into the corridor and stood with her arms crossed and her back to Goliath. "That will be enough of that," he roared, and he slammed the doors with enough force that several of the hatchlings jumped. He turned and addressed his mate.
"Well?"
The bewildered hatchlings watched with fascination as the female gargoyle turned around to face her mate. Suddenly, the contempt and anger in her face vanished and she laughed wholeheartedly.
"Well?" he asked again, "Was I convincing?" Her eyes filled with love, she ran to him and threw her arms around his shoulders.
"You may have overplayed it just a bit," she laughed, kissing him warmly.
"Did I?" he asked apprehensively.
"But don't worry," she assured him, kissing him again, "The elders we needed to convince were ready to believe I needed reprimanding anyway, and I believe you fooled them. The others," she grinned mischievously, "I reckon will simply assume we were trying to get away for romantic reasons."
"That's not a bad idea, at that," he said as he pulled her into his wings and kissed her passionately. As their lips parted, she looked in his eyes and laughed again, presumably at his over-the-top performance.
"I'm not well fashioned for deception am I, my love?" he asked.
"No, indeed. You're too pure of heart," she replied, laying her head fondly on his shoulder, "But we'd best preserve at least one of our reputations with the elders and mine is already maligned beyond redemption."
"Not with those who matter," he reassured her, "Only with those who are fools."
"I thank you," she whispered genuinely. They embraced passionately again and kissed until the hatchlings that had all gathered around began to giggle and taunt them.
"That will do, my young warriors!" she ordered with firmness and pride, "Down into the chamber with you. We have important training to do."
"What kind of training?" one of the hatchlings asked.
"You're each to learn your letters before this snow melts," she informed them.
"Our letters?" another hatchling asked, "Whatever for?"
"You'll see," she promised.
"Must we?" whined another hatchling.
"Yes, you certainly must," Goliath said sternly, which quickly put the matter at rest. To his mate, he said, "I'll leave you to your task. You'll need all the time you can get. Come the end of the summer, these hatchlings will all be pages and then when will they have the time to learn?" Her face, which had been filled with laughter a moment before, became quite solemn.
"It's such a big undertaking and such a short amount of time," she said concernedly, "I've never taught anyone so young before."
"You are equal to it," he encouraged, "I know that you are."
At that, they kissed again, until she laughed and pushed him back towards the door, scolding him that she would never be able to work with such a tempting distraction around her.
She made good use of the harsh winter months and the seclusion of the children in the rookery. She had taught them for months and made tremendous strides with many of them before the elders ever caught on to what they were up to. Of course, those who were against reading were already scandalized at the sight of so many of their young warriors spending their leisure sharing whatever books they were able to find. The very thought of exposing the young, impressionable hatchlings to the questionable minds and ways of humanity outraged them to the point that, one spring night, they went straight to the leader to report the scandal.
That very night, Hudson approached his young second, training with his rookery brethren, and demanded to know where his sister had taken the hatchlings. Dutifully, Goliath led him to a place in the moor, which had become a makeshift school for them. At the sight of them approaching through the light mist, the hatchlings and their teacher stood uneasily. Hudson had landed and sternly looked around at the hatchlings and the evidence of their transgressions among them, and his eyes fell on their ringleader, trying unsuccessfully to disguise her anxiety.
"Prideful, incorrigible wench," he began in a low voice full of anger and disappointment, "Have ye not been warned? Have I not told ye what comes of this deceit and mischief?" She hung her head, seeming unable to respond. The hatchlings looked at one another in alarm. They couldn't imagine what it was she had done wrong.
Hudson had turned to Goliath in disappointment.
"Lad, you knew of this?" he demanded and now it was Goliath who looked down in shame.
"I did."
"But it was my idea!" she insisted, "It was I that should have told you. Don't be vexed with him. He didn't want to deceive you. It was the elders we were trying to get past. They're against reading, but we've done nothing wrong!'
"If you've done nothing wrong," Hudson growled, "There would be no need for secrecy."
"If they weren't so pig-headed, there would be no need for secrecy," she retorted bitterly.
"Don't," Goliath warned her, placing his hand on her shoulder.
"We're both to blame," he told Hudson, "I wanted her to teach them."
Hudson shook his head in disbelief.
"Lad. Never would I have thought…"
"Please, my mentor," Goliath interrupted, "Come see what she's done."
Goliath led him through the small encampment, where the hatchlings had spent the recent weeks, studying among the snowdrops and bluebells. He ordered the hatchlings to demonstrate how they could recite and write their letters. Some were already able to clumsily read a passage from one of the children's storybooks they had managed to smuggle out of the castle. Hudson had watched in amazement as such young children proudly demonstrated what he had never even come close to comprehending. Next, Goliath showed him some of the more advanced students. A young lass who could read aloud a simple letter she had written to her brother. Another who was reading a book on basic botany and had learned which plants on the moor and in the forest could be used to reduce pain and heal illness. And a small lad, who would one day be called 'Lexington', had used a description read in a book to construct a clever trap that could catch large shellfish.
"This child built this?" Hudson had exclaimed in disbelief, "Not even a page yet?"
At last, Goliath had led Hudson back to the teacher, who had not moved a step since they'd left her. Hudson put his claw to her chin and lifted her face to look at him.
"You've done all this?" he asked her.
"I have," she responded quietly, her voice trembling slightly.
"They're incredible, my daughter. They'll be making our clan proud before long, there's no doubt." She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank you."
"Is it a task to your liking, teaching these young ones?" he asked her.
"Very much so."
"T'was no need for secrecy in this, my children. You've instigated a great turmoil among the elders that won't be easy to quell."
"We understand," Goliath pledged, "It won't ever happen again."
"And you, lass? Do you understand?" She nodded in response, but he wouldn't accept her silent reply.
"You've proven yourself a great teacher, my daughter. But this, this is a lesson you are far overdue in learning for yourself. For the sake of our clan, and even more, for the sake of your own self, the deception must end with this night."
"I promise," she pleaded, "Please, forgive me."
"I forgive you, lass," he assured, placing his hand on her shoulder and raising his voice so as to be heard by Goliath and the hatchlings, "You will continue to teach these hatchlings as you have been. And when the summer comes, they will be made pages and you will be assigned as one of their mentors."
Her face had brightened at this, and she glanced happily at Goliath, who smiled at her with pride.
"Children, you may continue to study as you train, and your learning will be of great benefit to our clan." This news was met with a mixture of responses among the hatchlings, some of which were less keen than others on the extra work.
"Come, my son," Hudson said to Goliath, "It would seem we all have work to do yet tonight." Goliath took her claw in his and kissed her wrist tenderly before catching the next gust of wind that carried him back toward the castle.
"I had thought Hudson was way too harsh on her," Lexington commented, "She was trying to do right by us."
"I thought so too, at the time," Broadway agreed, "But he knew exactly what he was talking about."
"He always does," Angela added, "If she'd only listened."
Angela thought about what Demona had said the night before, about never trusting anyone. It seemed that was always the case with her. She wondered if she would ever learn to trust and if there was any hope for her if she couldn't.
"That isn't the end of that story though," Broadway said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.
After watching her leader and mate disappearing into the mist toward the castle, she turned directly back to her work. Each of the hatchlings was learning at a different pace, with some seeming to catch on as naturally as she had, while others required more practice and guidance. There was one lad in particular, who had learned his alphabet as fast as any of the others but hadn't progressed a bit beyond that point. In truth, he seemed to have little interest, but she suspected that his lack of interest was rooted in insecurity. He'd seen many of his rookery siblings excelling and it seemed to have turned him away from the process. She was searching for this young one now and found him alone in a clearing.
The hatchling had built up a tower of stones and placed the wooden tablet with simple words engraved on it, which she had given him to practice, on the very top. Now he stood many yards off from his creation, pulling large stones from anywhere he could find them and launching them at the tablet in an attempt to knock it off. Just as he let go of a stone, aimed straight at the tablet, she jumped into its path, catching it with her claw so it crumbled to the ground.
"It took me a fair amount of time to carve those tablets, you know."
The child sneered and crouched on the ground.
"I don't want to practice anymore. I hate letters. It's pointless."
"Do you think so?" she asked him.
"Yes," he replied adamantly, "I'm going to be a great warrior."
"Without a doubt."
"And warriors don't read," he declared.
"Are you sure of that?" He looked at her suspiciously.
"Goliath is a great warrior, isn't he?" she asked him.
"Yes, but-"
"And he loves to read."
The child seemed to consider the inconsistency, then asked, "Do you love him the most because he is so strong, or because he is so clever?"
She laughed, "You're getting a bit impertinent, asking such personal questions. Actually, I admire him greatly for both of those reasons, but neither one is the reason I love him so much. But it's no use, you trying to get me to change the subject." He shrugged.
"I tried and tried. I just don't understand."
"You will eventually, if you keep trying."
"I don't think so. I'm strong and I can fight, but I'm not really known for cleverness."
He looked quite forlorn for a moment, then he asked, "Do you think I can be a benefit to the clan and make them proud, even if I'm not really clever?"
She crouched beside him and replied gently,
"I think that's something you needn't worry about at all, because you are clever. And you have your own strengths that will surely be a benefit to the clan and a source of pride for you and all of us. This summer, you'll begin to discover your own special gifts and develop them. I'll help you myself."
"You will?" he asked hopefully.
"Of course. Hold your head up, my young warrior."
"Then I don't have to practice with the tablet anymore?" he asked excitedly.
"No, you've finished with that tablet," she said, and he cheered with relief.
"I've brought you another one, with harder words on it, for you to work on," she informed him, placing another wooden tablet on the tower of stones he'd built. He groaned and collapsed backward comically on the soggy earth.
"See that you memorize it before you use it for target practice."
"Yes, my sister," he groaned from beneath the tall grasses. And with that, she disappeared into the mist.
"You know," Broadway said thoughtfully, after having finished telling his portion of the story, "I do think I would like to see her some time. I want to tell her that I did learn to read, even if she doesn't respond or reply. I want her to know."
"You could go with me some time," Angela suggested.
"I think I'd like to as well," Lexington said, "I could tell her about some of the machines I've designed. She might not care, but then again, she might."
Angela suspected that Demona would indeed care if they came to see her, though she might not be too quick to show it. She hoped her brothers would visit sometime, but tonight, after hearing their story, she was anxious to return alone and hoped her mother would be willing to speak to her again.