As Demona finished her story, the sky beyond the glass panel ceiling of the conservatory began to show the first blush of morning. Demona now rested on the smooth stone path so her daughter could sit close beside her, resting her head on her shoulder.
"We were both so very happy," Demona told her thoughtfully, "It all lasted such a short time, and some might say I was entirely unworthy of it, but once I knew the greatest happiness this world can grant. And you, my daughter, were born of that happiness."
Angela didn't know what to say, so she clasped her mother's claw in her own and they remained that way for a while, physically in each other's company, but both lost in their own thoughts.
At last Angela said, "Thank you, for telling me."
"I wasn't ready to. But I was afraid that I had to tell you tonight," she replied, "The way Xanatos is talking, I suspect that Goliath will be giving me his decision tomorrow night. I don't know if I will have the opportunity to talk to you again, anytime soon."
"Are you worried about that?" Angela asked her.
"A bit," she admitted, unsuccessfully trying to hide the true measure of her fear, "He might want to seal me into some lightless, airless vault forever or something like that."
"Is that one of the things you've seen in your dreams?" Angela asked understandingly, "You know Goliath. Can you honestly imagine him doing such a thing? To anyone? Ever?"
"You're right," she admitted, "But I'm mostly afraid that wherever he sends me, I won't be able to see you anymore." Angela touched her shoulder.
"You know me as well now. Do you honestly think there's anywhere he could send you that would make me just forget you? You're not lost yet, Demona. I don't believe you are. No matter what he decides, I refuse to give up on you." She smiled gratefully and they noticed the shadows of winged silhouettes passing over the courtyard and heard Brooklyn calling Angela's name.
"You'd better go and let them know you're alright," Demona told her.
"I'll be with you again tomorrow night," Angela assured her as she rose, but before she left, she turned back to her mother and asked, "Tell me the truth. Did you let us capture you on purpose?" The question seemed to catch her off guard at first, but then realization hit her.
"I suppose I have given you ample reason to doubt my sincerity," she admitted, "I didn't plan on you confronting me the other night. I don't have any secret plan to wreak havoc now. I genuinely surrendered to you because I have nothing left to fight for and I couldn't think of anything else to try."
"I believe you, Demona," Angela replied and Demona looked relieved that she wasn't going to be asked to prove her claim.
"I'll see you at sunset," she promised as she departed.
Goliath had requested Xanatos to have Demona waiting at the tower for them when they awoke, so just before sunset, he escorted her there. They were both surprised to find Elisa Maza there as well, standing beside Goliath's frozen stone form.
"Good evening, Detective Maza. Always a pleasure," Xanatos greeted cordially, as he craftily guided Demona as far away from her as possible. Elisa acknowledged them curtly. Instinctively, she laid a protective hand on Goliath's stone form, and avoided eye contact with Demona's contemptuous glare.
"Such a delightful lady," Xanatos commented nonchalantly, "A little overly cautious at times, but overall, trustworthy and a down-to-earth person. I can't imagine why you always want her dead. Have you ever actually met her outside the heat of battle?"
Demona snorted and shot him a very annoyed look, "I don't know Xanatos. The first time I ever laid eyes on her was after she headbutted me and tackled me to the ground. Does that pass for a formal introduction these days?"
Xanatos seemed to consider the question.
"It can in New York," he concluded.
After a moment, the night air was filled with the sounds of Demona's anguished cries as her body transformed from human to gargoyle and stone skin cracking and scattering across the rooftop as the rest of the gargoyles woke. Goliath greeted Elisa and then turned to Xanatos who handed him another control for the implants he was using to contain Demona.
"Here she is," he told him, "You can call me whenever you are ready for me."
Goliath gave his thanks and beckoned for the rest of the clan to join him indoors. They followed him into a drawing room, which was rarely used, but had plenty of comfortable seating and was a good place to gather and discuss anything that required discussion by the whole clan at once. Someone must have expected they'd end up there that evening, as a fire was already blazing in the fireplace. Goliath asked the rest of the clan to be seated, while he instructed Demona to stand beside him in the center of the room. She did, but he seemed unsatisfied with this, and placed his claws on both her shoulders pulling her to face him directly. She flinched, as if afraid he would strike her.
"I'm not going to hurt you; I just want to make certain you are listening."
Demona told him quietly, "Macbeth wrote to me. He says he's working on a quest of some kind. Apparently, he's found new hope and meaning in life, and he has no intention of ending it all at this time. So, it turns out that you needn't face any devastating moral quandary after all. At least not tonight."
Goliath seemed surprised to hear this and he replied, "I have no intention of letting him kill you anyway, but I'm happy to hear he's doing so well."
"That doesn't answer my question though," she pointed out, keeping her voice below where the others could hear.
"We'll get to that soon enough," he promised her, and then in a voice loud enough that the other members of the clan could clearly hear him, he began,
"Demona, despite our every attempt to persuade you to stop, and our every hope that you would learn from the devastation you continually bring down upon yourself, your actions have only become increasingly murderous, and you seem entirely without remorse for any of it. At this point, there is little doubt that you have truly become a monster. I have come to the conclusion that you must remain imprisoned for all the foreseeable future. For the rest of my lifetime, and that of all of those present, and far beyond that, if we have any say in it, you will not know freedom again, and you will have no contact whatsoever with the world outside of your captivity. Do you understand?
It was obvious that Demona was fighting to maintain her composure. Her breathing was labored and she seemed unable to speak, but she nodded her head in understanding. Goliath continued.
"Xanatos commissioned the implants he has already put in place inside you. They will allow you to be free to move within whatever space he has programmed as your boundaries. Our intention is that you will be free to move around within the parts of the castle that are used by the clan. This will remain the case as long as your behavior allows it. If you abuse the privilege, you will be restricted to your own space, which will be kept safe and reasonably comfortable for you. Your own control for the implants will allow you to sleep as much as you need. And you will be free to see Angela, or any of the rest of us, as much as you wish."
As he spoke, her labored breathing had turned into soft sobbing, and as he still had her gripped by the shoulders, she placed her claws on his strong arms to signal him to lower her to the floor.
"Thank you," she whispered as he knelt beside her.
"I hardly expected to be thanked."
"For not taking her from me," she explained, "She's all the hope I have right now."
"I'm not going to take her from you, Demona. Only you in your madness can drive her away." He pulled out a small, thin, hardback journal with a generic photograph of flowers on the front and handed it to her.
"This is for you," he told her. Confused, she opened it and glanced at the writing inside. Goliath and the rest of the clan waited while she turned from page to page, and recognition slowly came to her face. After several moments, she looked up at him and asked,
"I don't understand. Why have you written all this?"
"Angela wanted to know about our life together," he explained, "She asked if I would start to write out some of my memories for her, and I did. But the more I wrote, the more I realized that I was writing to you and not to her." She looked down at the journal again, leafing through page after page. A small smile came to her lips from time to time.
"All that reading of poetry is paying off," she said at one point, "You've become quite an eloquent writer my lo-" She looked up sharply, and then back down again, embarrassed. At last, she closed it and went to hand it back to him.
"Perhaps some of that is a bit too intimate to share with our daughter," she suggested somewhat coyly and he smiled.
"I realized that. I assure you; she'll be receiving an abridged copy." He pushed the journal back toward her. "This one is for you. I want you to have it. I hope you'll read it from time to time and try to remember who I know you truly are. I hope you'll accept this as the answer to your question. Because, while there are many valid reasons that I can't just let you and Macbeth kill one another, this is the main reason. You mean so much to me that I simply can't bear to let you go that way. I don't want you to live just so you can suffer! I want you to live so that you can live! But, Demona, you must choose to live for love, if you still can. You are right about one thing. The debt of guilt that torments you can't be paid off in suffering. If it could, you'd have already done so. Nor will your own death erase it, I'm afraid. Only living for love can save you from this. That's why you must remain in the castle with us, no matter how hard it is. You have to try… if you are still capable of love."
"The other night, you said you doubted I'd ever loved you," she muttered bitterly.
"I know I said that. That's my own pain, that causes me to doubt. But in my heart, I know that you loved me," he promised her, and before she could mention the other statement that he had made; the one he knew had wounded her so deeply, he added, "And I am grateful for every moment you were mine."
These last words found her heart. The whole clan could see it in the way she trembled and clenched her chest. When she could speak again, she said, "I am still capable of love. It just hurts so much."
"But surely it can't hurt as much as this cruel fate you've fashioned for yourself," he argued, "None of our lost brother and sisters, not one, would have ever wished this on you,"
"And nor would we, Lass," Hudson interjected, and the others all nodded their agreement. Even Brooklyn conceded.
"Thank you for that, all of you," she said softly, looking around the room. Returning her gaze to Goliath, she lifted the journal and added, "And for this. You don't know what it means." She moved to stand, but Goliath took her arm firmly.
"Not so fast, there," he said, "While we are all still basking in the spirit of gratitude, it couldn't be a better time for you to conduct your first penance." Demona knelt back down, looking anxious, as Goliath gestured toward the corner. At first, Angela thought he meant for her to come join them in front of the fire, but Goliath looked past her into the far corner of the room and said,
"Elisa, come to me, if you will." Everyone was quite surprised, including Elisa, as she made her way past the furniture and sat on the tile floor, on the opposite side of Goliath. Demona appeared most perturbed and perhaps even a little frightened at what was to come next and Goliath strategically placed his arm around her back as if to block her should she try to make a break for it.
When Goliath spoke again, the gentleness that had been in his voice a moment earlier was all gone and he sounded quite stern and cold.
"This," he began, gesturing toward Elisa, "Is Elisa Maza, my dearest friend. You have never known her in the least bit, but you have decided to make her your enemy, seeking to murder her on several occasions. She is kind, honest, and faithful. Despite the fact that her continued association with us has put her at constant severe risk, she has loyally remained our friend. She has risked her life multiple times to save us, not only from you, but from others. You've witnessed this yourself but refuse to acknowledge it. She has saved my life countless times and provided us shelter and protection when we needed it most. She literally pulled your daughter from the brink of death when she was critically injured by the Hunters. Most importantly, she has been a constant comfort to all of us, and particularly to me, in my grief. We all love her tremendously and she is not going anywhere. Discourtesy towards her will not be tolerated and you will not harm her. Do you understand?"
Demona stared into the fire through most of this tirade, but she nodded to signal her agreement.
"I think you will answer out loud," Goliath ordered and when Demona failed to respond, he took her claw in one hand and forced Elisa's hand into it, clasping them together with his own. Demona, clearly distressed, shut her eyes as if in great pain, but she said loudly, "I understand and I won't harm her."
Still unsatisfied, he demanded, "Open your eyes and say it to her."
Demona opened her eyes and looked from her claw, to the woman before her who was staring at her apprehensively.
She drew her breath slowly, and said, "Detective Maza, you have nothing further to fear from me. I will not harm you." Finally appeased, Goliath released them and, as if burned, Demona quickly pulled her arm back, but Elisa held fast and cried, "Wait!" Demona froze, still staring in confusion as Elisa held on to her claw with both hands now, saying,
"You have nothing to fear from me either. You never had. I would never hurt this clan. I don't want to hurt you either. I realize you probably don't believe me. But at least you're going to hear me say it." Demona remained still, seemingly lost for words and unable to do anything but look back at the innocent woman she had unjustly hated for so long. It was a painfully long time she remained trapped in this uncomfortable pose, until Elisa released her, and she leapt to her feet quickly, as if to avoid anything else being done to her in the name of penance.
In the next moment, Goliath was calling for Xanatos on the radio and Angela was at Demona's side, holding her tightly.
"I told you it would be alright," she whispered to her, and Demona gave her an exhausted, but grateful look.
It wasn't long before Xanatos returned and seemed very excited to show them the place in the castle where Demona was to remain imprisoned indefinitely. He encouraged them all to follow him down the stairs, and he led them through a double-enforced gateway similar to the one defending the cell where Demona had stayed the previous three nights. But beyond this wide gateway and the electrified bars, which were not engaged, was a spacious and very pleasant apartment. Xanatos walked around pointing out the different features of the room, which included a large comfortable bed, far nicer than the plastic shelf she'd been given to sleep on in the cell. There was a bath stocked with comfortable linen, as well as a pantry stocked with a variety of food and drink. The walls had shelves on them, most of which were still empty, but one of them housed a CD player and a small collection of books.
"Owen can order you whatever you'd like to eat, or read, or listen to," Xanatos told her, while she looked about in astonishment. There was also a sitting area, with leather furniture and a game table with four chairs around it.
"So many chairs, Xanatos?" She asked, "Are you expecting me to throw a party in here?"
"I thought maybe you'd like to play cards some time," he laughed, and she seemed amused, presumably imagining what sort of guests Xanatos invisioned she'd have, coming to visit and play cards with her.
"Honestly, Xanatos," Elisa scolded, "This isn't a "prison", it's one hot tub short of a five-star hotel!"
Xanatos gave her a side eye and continued showing Demona the lighting and air systems, the intercom she could use to summon Owen, and finally, a door that opened to reveal a small elevator.
"This will remain open at Goliath's discretion and will take you to the drawing room we just came from, the conservatory in the courtyard, and a gym twelve floors down which, I believe, does have a hot tub." He shot another look at Elisa, who rolled her eyes.
"This area will always be for your use, but your boundaries can be expanded to include as much, or as little of the castle as your captures find appropriate," he explained.
Demona looked around the room, and back at him in disbelief.
"This is unbelievable," she said skeptically, "There's no way you've had this all built in three days, Xanatos."
Agreeing, Goliath said, "I'm also curious, Xanatos. When exactly did you start planning this whole thing?"
"Do you even have to ask?" Xanatos wondered, "I started designing an air-tight 'gargoyle lock-up system' the morning after I first met Demona. It took me less than an hour of interaction with her to realize that I couldn't imagine a scenario where I would not eventually lock her up! I know I've been accused of being over adventurous in my risk-taking, but Mama Xanatos didn't raise a fool!"
Brooklyn choked back a mean-spirited chuckle, but Demona didn't appear insulted. Instead, she waved her claw indifferently and said, "I should expect no less of you." Then she turned to Brooklyn and asked, "What are you snickering at back there, my friend? It's an awfully large space for just one criminally insane gargoyle. You don't suppose he had the same plan for you at one point?"
"That's all in the past now," Xanatos said nonchalantly.
"Of course it is," she replied sarcastically.
"It'd better be," Elisa glowered protectively.
"Owen!," Xanatos exclaimed suddenly, "What excellent timing! Please bring our friend in!" Beside Owen stood a tall woman with a dark complexion, short black hair, mixed with silver, and large, round eyes that were now opened very wide. She was clearly overwhelmed with the sight of a room full of gargoyles before her and struggling to retain a professional expression as Owen led her to Xanatos.
"Come in, Dr. Chatoorgoon," Xanatos said, "Don't be afraid." Dr. Chatoorgoon seemed more than a bit uneasy as she approached Demona, who was glaring at her with almost palpable contempt.
"Are you going to be exposing me to human strangers on a regular basis, Xanatos?" she demanded through clenched teeth.
"She's not a stranger," Xanatos insisted, "You've met before. She's one of the world's most gifted neurosurgeons and she's the one who invented and placed your implants."
Dr. Chattoorgoon had the same facial expression that most humans had the first time they spoke to a gargoyle in person, but she timidly explained,
"You were unconscious then, so you don't remember anything."
"Obviously. But what's done is done. Why are you here now?"
"I typically do a follow up exam," she replied, her hands visibly shaking, "To make sure they're working correctly. May I check your back?" Goliath stepped forward so abruptly, afraid of what Demona might do to the defenseless human doctor, that the trembling woman sprang several steps backward from him. Demona seemed amused at the woman's naively misplaced terror, but she didn't fight Goliath holding her arms in place while the doctor examined her.
"Why, the incisions are…completely gone!" Dr. Chattoorgoon gasped.
"I heal quickly," Demona explained coldly, deliberately looking past Goliath to the empty wall behind him.
"Well, we needn't be concerned with infection," the doctor said in amazement as she gently put pressure on her shoulders and neck, "Is there any pain?"
"If Xanatos hadn't told me they were there, I wouldn't have known."
Dr. Chattoorgoon's smile betrayed a bit of pride.
"That means I've done my job well. That's all I need." Goliath released Demona and she turned around sharply to face the doctor.
"And they're working properly? When you push the controls, they make you sleep?"
"Yes. Almost instantly."
"Excellent. Then I'd say that phase one has been successful!"
Alarmed, Demona demanded, "Phase one? What is phase two?"
"Mostly research and planning, based on the scans I receive from the implants," Dr. Chattoorgoon explained, "These are a brand-new technology, and while I have determined that there are many parallels between human and gargoyle brains, I still have a great deal to learn about how your mind is designed to work. New forms of treatment are risky, but we want to make sure we are taking the most well-calculated risks possible in order to ensure the best possible outcomes when we reach phase three."
"I see," Demona said, shooting a murderous look at Xanatos, who seemed very pleased with himself, "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what exactly is phase three?"
"Well, that depends somewhat on what I find out from the scans, but in a most likely scenario, we will be able to program the implants to decrease activity in parts of your brain that are overreacting to trauma."
"And the point of that would be?"
Demona was clearly becoming more and more furious, and it was apparent to everyone in the room, with the exception of maybe Xanatos, that the situation was very close to exploding into violence. Goliath took a step closer, so as to quickly get between Demona and the doctor and Angela reached for the implant control Xanatos had given her the night before.
"The point would be to allow you to create new coping mechanisms and eventually rewire your brain to decrease unwanted symptoms of trauma such as anxiety, paranoia, and rage."
"Woman," Demona snarled, "I am not unaware that I have been mentally unwell for a long time, but I think you are the one who has completely lost your mind! You know nothing of my life, my pain, or my 'trauma', as you put it. What gives you the nerve to meddle with my brain?"
Angela had to admit, Dr. Chattoorgoon was nothing if not brave. Though she was clearly terrified, she continued to explain as calmly as possible.
"You are right that I know nothing of your past. But psychology isn't my discipline, neuroscience is. I don't need to know what caused your pain to see how it is injuring your brain and the maladaptive cycles that stem from it. And I believe this treatment is very likely to relieve your pain and restore your ability to heal from it."
"Do you really think she could get well?" Broadway asked earnestly, "I mean, could she go back to the way she was before?"
"No one goes back to the way they were before exactly," Dr. Chattoorgoon replied, "But we are seeking a treatment that can allow them to go forward. Similar treatments that depend on powerful medications have been very successful, but the medications are far less precise than this technology and come with very strong side effects. I can't make promises, of course. It's the first time this technology has ever been used. But I think the prognosis is very good. If we do our homework before going in, I expect that we will see immediate positive results when we are able to implement phase three. If they work the way I anticipate they will, her suffering will be diminished greatly."
"Who says she deserves to have her suffering diminished greatly?" Brooklyn remarked honestly, "I mean, why shouldn't she suffer the consequences for what she's done?" He immediately looked embarrassed for having asked such a question, but Dr. Chattoorgoon nodded at him understandingly and said, "I've been asked that many times before. Many of my patients have a past that includes a great deal to reckon with. I always say, it's not my place, nor my job, to judge who is and isn't worthy of healing. My job is to heal the minds and souls of whatever patients come my way." Brooklyn seemed satisfied with this reply.
Xanatos took advantage of the lapse in conversation to say,
"I'm sure we'll all have more questions for Dr. Chattoorgoon as she proceeds with her work, but for right now, I think it's best we say goodbye." And Owen escorted her out of the room and back toward the main portion of the castle.
"Goliath," Demona said darkly, after they had left, "When I surrendered, and submitted myself to your judgment, I admit that I was nervous about what sort of fate you would plan for me. I considered the likelihood that it could be extremely... uncomfortable. But never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that handing me over to human scientists to be used as a lab rat in mind control experiments was even on the table." She turned sorrowfully toward Angela.
"And you! Did you know about this?"
Before she could answer, Xanatos interrupted, "She didn't know anything."
Demona looked immensely relieved to hear this and Xanatos continued in an exasperated tone, "And before you go at Goliath again, I only discussed the first phase with him, and using the implants to put boundaries in place. Which is not up for debate, by the way, unless you liked that little cell so much that you want to disappear into it indefinitely. The next phases of the treatment are entirely up to you, though you'd be a foolish, ungrateful wretch not to take me up on it.
"And I suppose that Xanatos Enterprises doesn't stand to gain a small fortune from this research?"
Xanatos groaned in annoyance and retorted, "Yes, Demona. It so happens that if Dr. Chattoorgoon is successful with you, AND we can get the implants approved for testing on humans, AND that testing goes well, AND we can get it approved for sale. Maybe in a decade or so, I will become even more disgustingly rich than I already am. What's even worse, untold millions of people stand to gain much needed relief from their suffering. But what's it to you, as long as you get what you want? Well? Do you want access to your daughter? Perhaps someday to your grandchildren? You want to be able to see the sky and feel the wind occasionally? Maybe on some level, you might even want to have a chance to undo even a degree of the disaster you've made your life into? And you're going to give up your best chance, if not your last chance, to keep that freedom? Why? To spite me for making a buck off of it?"
Demona scowled and looked away sullenly, but Goliath placed his claw on her shoulder.
"Listen to him, Demona. I know it sounds frightening, but it's an opportunity to truly live again and remember what I told you before," she looked up at him, some of the darkness melting away from her eyes.
"You can't expect this of me. Would you trust a stranger to reprogram your mind?"
He told her, "There is nothing I would not trade for the chance to bring you back to us, well and whole. But I won't force this on you. You must choose it. Please consider Xanatos' offer."
"I don't suppose it must be decided tonight?" she asked, after a moment.
"No, not tonight," he agreed.
Demona collapsed into a seat and groaned, resting her face in her claws, "It's a good thing too," she said softly, "I'm too tired to think."
Angela sat beside her and said excitedly, "But look around you, Demona. It's just like you said. You haven't any enemies left." Demona lifted her head and looked at her daughter, then turned her gaze to the rest of the room, where the remainder of the clan stood, watching her.
"No more enemies, except for the last one," she reminded Angela, "The one that will ultimately destroy me if I don't defeat her. And I don't know how."
"Forgive her, then," Angela insisted.
Demona bitterly shook her head.
"You must!" she pleaded, "It was never really about the humans. You raged at them because you couldn't bear to face yourself after what you did to the clan."
"Stop! Please!" Demona wept, covering her head as if Angela's words were blows.
"What you did was horrible, but you never intended to harm them. I know you didn't. We all do. You have to try."
"I couldn't see what was before me," she said, struggling through her emotion to form the words "I knew what was to come and I was desperate to save them. I would have done anything. I was always so careful and suspicious, always looking for the ones who would threaten us or betray us, ready to do whatever was necessary…but how could I have guessed?"
She looked at Goliath across the room, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Why didn't you tell me? You knew it would be me and you had the chance to tell me when you saw me through the Phoenix Gate. But you didn't!"
"How could I tell you then? I knew what it would do to you. What you might have done to yourself, if you knew. I loved you so much and I knew that we had so many joyful years ahead of us. I couldn't leave you in despair. All I could do was try to give you hope and trust that you would remember to live for what you love rather than what you fear."
"It would have been better for you to have lost me then," she insisted as she wept.
"No," he denied. He walked across the room to kneel beside her. Pulling her closer to him, he said, "Demona," and she shuddered.
"Must you call me that?" she pleaded.
"You were so proud, once, to tell me that name," he reminded her.
"Proud?" she repeated, clearly scandalized, "I was not proud. I merely wanted to be sure that you knew what they had done to me." He pulled her to his shoulder, wrapping his wings about her, and they were all silent for some time.
When at last she pulled away from him, wiping away her tears, Xanatos shocked everyone by announcing,
"I've got a new name for you!" The clan stared at him, slightly appalled at his inappropriateness.
"What? We've got to call her something!"
Annoyed, she replied, "Xanatos, I survived over a century without a name, before one human saw fit to interfere with it. If I'm ever to take a new name, let it be given to me by my own."
Xanatos shrugged and gave her a condescendingly critical eye roll.
"That's just fine, if you want to go around being called 'Harlem', 'Battery Park', or maybe 'Greenwich'. But I was thinking something a little more organic and classier. You see, my old man was an avid lepidopterist."
"I don't know what that means, but it's a terrible name," she shot back.
"I know what it means!" Broadway exclaimed, "I read about them in National Geographic. They are people who collect specimens of butterflies." She glanced at him, surprised by the outburst. A smile slowly formed on her face and Broadway was pleased to see she was impressed with him before she turned to Xanatos and incredulously asked,
"You think I should be named after a butterfly?"
"Not just any butterfly," Xanatos replied, "But Pop's favorite butterfly, Adelpha. It's known for its shimmery black wing with a bright red splash on it. He had dozens of them. He thought they were so beautiful; he even called my mother "Adelpha" as his pet name for her."
Angela looked at Xanatos knowingly before declaring, "I like it," but her mother still looked unsure.
"It sounds pretty," Lexington commented.
"Yeah, but not too sticky sweet," Broadway added.
"It's from an ancient Greek word that means a beloved sister," Xanatos informed them. She looked a bit dismayed at this.
"Could I dare to ask them to call me that?" she asked, looking to Goliath apprehensively. But before he could respond, Brooklyn gave his own opinion.
"It's perfect," he declared. And so, the name was chosen.
Then Goliath rose, saying, "We've delayed our early patrol so long, it's going to end up being our late patrol anyway. Let's go and have our meal together before we go out." The other members of the clan agreed enthusiastically, and they all headed through the unarmed, but slightly menacing prison gate, followed by Elisa and Xanatos. Goliath reached for Adelpha, saying, "You come with us."
"I will," she replied contently, "It's the first I've felt hungry in a long time!"
AN: Dear Reader,
If you've managed to make it to the end of the story, thank you so much for reading. I hope you will leave a review of some kind! I know the ending is a bit saccharin, but hopefully there was enough angst throughout to warrant it. I've enjoyed writing this story so much, that I'm writing a follow up story, "The Secret of Bain Felix".
Thanks,
Allegra