The trio soon found themselves searching the riverbank where Brooklyn had first spied Sorrow through a foul-smelling fog that had risen up over the water.
"Great. Just what we need," Brooklyn grumbled sarcastically.
"It IS just what we need!" Lexington argued cheerfully, "With the fog, my drones can do their job without anyone noticing or bothering them!"
They had brought Bronx along for his tracking skills and he happily pranced up and down the fortuitously abandoned beach.
"Bronx!" Broadway directed in the hushed and eager tone they always used when they were telling the guard beast something important, "We're looking for two hatchlings! They might be somewhere near here. Go look for their scent!"
Bronx yelped happily as if he thought the game was great fun and bounded away through the sand. They watched him for a moment, as he sniffed around the treeline.
"Do you think he can find them?" Lexington asked hopefully.
"I think he could find them," Brooklyn answered, "But I don't think he will, because I don't think they're there."
Broadway gave him a heartbroken look.
"Do you think that we're…too late… to find them alive?"
"I hope not," Brooklyn answered, "But I have a pretty firm doubt that Sorrow is the one who took them in the first place."
"You do?" Lexington asked, looking up suddenly from the two milk crates he was emptying out on the sand, "Why?"
"I don't know," he admitted frustratedly, " But I just can't bring myself to believe that she would kill her own mate in cold blood and then steal two hatchlings. She just doesn't seem right to me."
"Uhhh…She seemed pretty overly aggressive if you ask me!" Lexington offered and Broadway nodded his enthusiastic agreement.
"I know but…" Brooklyn trailed off, not knowing how to explain his inclination to believe Sorrow was innocent. Perhaps his brothers were right about her and it was he that was blind to the obvious truth? Brooklyn shook his head in dismay.
"Ok," he posited, "How many gargoyles have you known that have gone completely insane and tried to murder their own mate?"
"You mean, besides Sorrow?" Lexington asked sarcastically.
"Innocent until proven guilty, Bro!" Brooklyn ordered, "How many else?"
"Just the one, then," Lexington responded. There was no need to name names.
"Right!" Brooklyn agreed, pacing back and forth now, like a courtroom attorney, "We all saw how that went down. Was she squalling and thrashing around like Sorrow was when we confronted her?"
"No," Lexington recalled sadly, "She was cold as ice and deliberate as the very devil."
"Exactly!" Brooklyn concluded, "Sorrow isn't bloodthirsty, she's scared. She just wants to get away."
Broadway shrugged, clearly unconvinced, as Lexington eagerly unloaded an amphibious drone prototype that he had designed specifically for the police department. Its original purpose had been the retrieval of guns, corpses, and various other things that New York's criminal realm tended to unload in the busy Hudson River. Lexington assured them, however, that the system could be easily reprogrammed to focus the search on any parameters they chose.
He sat on the sand, clicking away furiously at a tablet that was connected to a larger laptop with a wide monitor, which he had set up on a milk crate. From time to time, Bronx emerged from the bushes to give them a brief, curious look before continuing with his own mission.
"Here we go!" Lexington cheered with a triumphant last click, and the drone sprang to life, flashing a single, but bright headlamp, and scrambled like a crab across the sand into the water.
"Sorrow said that it wouldn't be in the water!" Brooklyn protested.
"It has to get across the river somehow," Lexington pointed out as the glow of the headlamp faded and disappeared into the murky water, "Come on! Help me initiate the others!"
A second crate of identical drones was emptied out on the beach, and one by one, they crept off, either downstream along the shore, or directly into the water.
"Swim! Swim, my pretties!" cackled Lexington in his best Wicked Witch of the West impression.
"Oh brother!" Broadway groaned and Lexington snorted at the rejection of his sense of humor.
"Come on, guys!" Lexington replied with a laugh, "I have to work on my dad jokes, don't I?"
"Well, you've got a lot more work to do!" Broadway retorted, "Right Brooklyn?"
Brooklyn shrugged and rolled his eyes.
"Well, I'm not the one to ask, am I?" he muttered and Lexington's eyes narrowed at the distinct timbre of bitterness.
"What do you mean by that, Bro?" he demanded.
"You know," Brooklyn replied gloomily, looking away toward the lights of the harbor.
"No, I don't know," Lexington challenged, "If you've got something to say, then say it."
Brooklyn scowled and looked away from Lexington, but Broadway wouldn't be put off.
"Hey!" he said in a gruff, but calm voice, "Our kids belong to the whole clan, right?"
"Right," he repeated in dismay, "But that's a little easier for you guys to say when you have mates and can actually give the clan kids."
Brooklyn and Lexington looked at one another with concerned expressions. This was a regret that Brooklyn had never shared with them before and they didn't quite know how to respond to it. Broadway crouched on the sand beside him, while Lexington fiddled with the command center of his small army of probes. For a long time, they all sat in silence, until Broadway finally spoke.
"We can't really help you much with the 'female of the species' thing," he admitted, "Lex and I both got very lucky in that department and that's the truth of the matter."
"Insanely lucky!" Lexington agreed from behind his screen.
"But whether or not Miss Gargoyle Princess USA comes traipsing into Times Square one night, looking desperately for her sexy White Knight, Brooklyn, there's one thing I know."
Brooklyn betrayed a smile and a snort of laughter at his brother's imaginative storyboarding.
"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asked.
"We also got very lucky in the brother department," Broadway replied gently, "You are the best brother we could have ever asked for, and you will make the best gargoyle dad ever."
"Yeah?" Brooklyn replied hesitantly.
"I mean, come on!" Lexington interrupted, "You're Goliath's second. You're basically the mega-dad!"
"The mega-dad?" Brooklyn repeated incredulously, though he had begun to smile.
"No, no! The uber-dad!" Broadway insisted.
"Dad to which all other dads look with reverence!" Lexington continued seriously, "Especially us."
"Really?" Brooklyn replied.
"More than that," Broadway continued, "To Little Brother and Sister, you are what Goliath was to us."
"And what Hudson was to him," Lexington added, "And all of us."
"Wow, guys!" Brooklyn replied softly, "Come on! We had better get back to work before you make me cry or something."
The three of them continued to monitor the drones. Broadway and Brooklyn glided low over the water, keeping a live eye on them while Lexington monitored their progress on his screens. As they continued further and further downstream, Brooklyn noticed a strange bluish light, bobbing somewhat erratically on the water ahead of them. The light was strange in that it was not the proper color or brightness for an official nautical beacon, but also the light itself seemed to have a strange power to it. It wasn't bright enough to illuminate any objects, but it seemed to pierce through the fog in a way that almost blinded Brooklyn to anything else. Furthermore, it didn't seem to be fixed to anything in particular as it dove and bounced erratically in the darkness.
"Do you see that weird light?" Broadway asked him.
"Yeah, it's annoying!" Brooklyn complained, "Probably some kind of weird lighting effect from the DJ on a party boat or something." They continued to follow the headlamps of the drones on their respective sides of the river, but the strange light never seemed to be far away, nor did it continue on any course, to or from the docks.
A short time later, they caught sight of Bronx, making his way south, along the rocky shoreline, toward a far more heavily developed area.
"I hope he's careful!" Brooklyn complained.
"Don't worry!" Broadway insisted, " He can be very stealthy when he wants to. And he's hunting now. He knows not to get caught."
"The drones are moving toward the eastern bank of the harbor," Lexington told them over the radio, "Let's meet somewhere downstream and set up there."
The trio reconvened atop a large buoy that marked a 'no wake zone' near a large, private marina. They crouched there while Lexington set up his equipment and checked on the progress of the drones.
'Damn. Nothing," he commented.
They were all alerted to a splashing sound just behind them and turned to find Bronx paddling through the water to join them. Whimpering, he leaped and then dragged himself onto the platform below his masters, then shook himself free of the smelly river water.
"Bronx!" Lexington whined as he spread his wings out to defend his precious equipment, "You're supposed to be tracking lost hatchlings."
Bronx whimpered again, then gave a loud bugle toward the open water where the odd blue light continued to swoop and dive. The strange beacon seemed to pause in one place, then flashed, and Bronx growled at it in response.
"See, even Bronx hates it," Brooklyn grumbled.
"Hates what?" Lexington asked, not looking up from his screen.
"That weird blue light," Brooklyn explained, "It's almost blinding me and it keeps moving up and down the river. Someone ought to go tell them to shut it off before they cause an accident."
"Maybe it's only annoying to gargoyle eyes?" Broadway suggested as he squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of the source, "Look! There's the coast guard boat going right past like they don't even see it."
At this, Lexington glanced up from his screen and attempted to get a look at the piercing, unnatural light, until he too had to look away. Bronx yowled at it across the water and then whimpered anxiously when the light began to blink again. Lexington shielded his eyes with his claw and climbed to a higher point on the support bars of the buoy.
"It doesn't bother the humans," he thought out loud, "Only us."
Suddenly, to his brothers' surprise, Lexington began to cry out toward the strange light and wave his arms.
"Hey, what are you doing, Bro?" Brooklyn asked irritably as the strange light began to flash again.
"Oh, nice job, Lex!" Broadway whined, "We're tomorrow's Daily Tattler fodder again! I hope they at least get a better shot of me this time. The last one was taken from below and they mostly got my rump!"
"No, they're signaling to us!" Lexington exclaimed, and sure enough, every time he waved his arms, the beacon flashed again. Finally unable to contain himself, Bronx dove into the water and barrelled swiftly toward the light, which rose from the surface and began to move smoothly away from them, toward a jetty that protruded from a wooded park. The trio quickly left the buoy and took off to follow the light, and their frantic guard beast, through the mist. As they gained on it, the light grew even more intense, so that they could not look directly at it without hurting their eyes. But as they watched its reflection on the surface of the water below, they could just make out the outline of the winged figure that bore it.
"Another gargoyle!" Broadway exclaimed excitedly as they raced toward him.
At the end of the rocky breakwater were the remains of a small, stone structure that had probably once been a lighthouse or pumphouse. There, the strange light rose until it reached the base of the structure, then was extinguished, leaving only the glow of the city lights to frame the shadow of the unknown gargoyle as he ran into the woods. The bewildered trio landed at the far end of the jetty, where they recovered Bronx, who was yelping and trembling with excitement.
"What is going on?" Brooklyn exclaimed, "Why would someone go to so much trouble to get our attention, only to run from us once they had it?"
"Because its someone who wants to meet us on their own terms," Lexington replied warily.
"Well," Brooklyn replied uncertainly, "Should we go and meet them?"
Lexington nodded.
"If they're here, it's for a reason," he told them cryptically, "But don't let your guard down."
They made their way down a concrete path that followed the edge of the shore and sloped upward to a bare ledge, overlooking the water. There, Bronx's excited whimpering became a low, dangerous growl and his ears perked up, changing direction rapidly.
'What is it, Bronx?" Broadway asked gently.
"Someone is here," Brooklyn whispered to Lexington, "I can sense them, as if they were close enough to touch. They had us surrounded from the moment we stepped on shore."
"I know," Lexington answered softly, "Don't panic."
"Why can't we see them?" he hissed in fearful frustration.
"I suspect we will," Lexington whispered back, "When they are ready."
Suddenly, Bronx came to a halt, his eyes blaring as he growled menacingly into the thick undergrowth before them. There in the bushes, four eyes, like red, glowing coals threatened them, and they heard two rageful growls as the silhouettes of two guard beasts emerged from the darkness. Bronx snarled angrily at the two strange beasts and they replied in kind, stepping into the open so the trio could see their massive jaws and armored bodies.
"Restrain your beast, stranger, for I will not hinder mine!" came a menacing voice in the darkness.
"Bronx! To me!" Brooklyn commanded urgently, and though he whimpered in complaint, Bronx obeyed and crouched at Brooklyn's heel.
In the next moment, Broadway cried out as strange claws seemed to shoot out of the very darkness and seize him. Brooklyn thrashed about madly as he felt the same mysterious grips take hold of him. Only Lexington responded calmly, calling out into the darkness.
"Please! We are not enemies! I am Lexington of the Manhattan clan. We've met before!"
A murmur of hushed voices met his plea and, and though confused and apprehensive about Lexington's claim, both Broadway and Brooklyn had the sense to not struggle further and to stand with their arms open so their mysterious adversaries could see that they did not wish to fight.
At last, a figure emerged from the darkness. It was that of a gargoyle warrior, near their own age. Spiky armored plates seemed to grow from his brow as well as his shoulders and forearms. His stern face looked menacing, but calm and in control. There was a large broadsword hanging at his waist, but he had not drawn it.
"You are known to us, Lexington of Manhattan," the warrior told him, "Who are these others?"
"My rookery brothers," Lexington told him, "Brooklyn and Broadway."
"And who are you?" Brooklyn demanded in outrage, as he struggled against the invisible force that held him captive, "How do you know my brother? And what right have you to come into our protectorate and threaten us?!"
The strange warrior who commanded the unknown beings that surrounded them stepped forward, studying Brooklyn with both fascination and caution.
"What right have you to take the innocent rogue female captive?" he retorted in a cool, deliberate tone, "She was none of your concern. She had an important mission, and you have unnecessarily hindered her."
"She came to our home and was aggressive," Brooklyn answered defensively, "We had no idea who she was or what she wanted. I have no desire to harm her, but I had to protect my clan."
The stranger leaned in close to him, with a condescending grin.
"That's very good!" he praised, "You are now aggressive and I do not know you. I, too, must protect my clan."
"We are not aggressive," Brooklyn argued, "You were the ones who were trying to get our attention. We followed your beacon, only to find out what you wanted of us. We're protectors. We don't harm anyone unless they are doing harm to others and there is no other option. We certainly don't want to harm our own kind!"
At this remark, Brooklyn heard a chorus of whispers and mutters coming from around him in every direction. Bronx whimpered and yelped frantically, ready to pounce on the two guard beasts that stalked around them in a circle, but he obediently stayed at Brooklyn's heel. The stranger made a gesture, and Brooklyn was relieved to feel the grip on him released. He turned quickly, to catch a glimpse of his captors, but saw only a flutter of leaves on the ground as the mysterious assailants retreated silently.
"Who is out there?" Brooklyn asked accusingly, "Why don't they show themselves?"
"I am not alone," the stranger told him, stepping away and summoning his beasts to his side, "A gargoyle should never be alone. But you don't need to see them. It is enough that you know they are there."
The stranger folded his arms, caped his wings, and studied the trio carefully.
"I see your leader has kept his promise," he remarked thoughtfully.
"We all have!" Lexington replied frustratedly, "We've done nothing wrong! Why have you come here?"
"We have interests to see to," the stranger replied, offering no further explanation. Finally, after a painfully suspenseful period of silence, he ordered,
"Let us not have your noble efforts at secrecy go to waste. Come with me, Lexington of Manhattan. We must have a meeting of the minds, away from your brethren."
"No!" Lexington replied with surprising defiance, "I want to speak to Cato."
Another rush of whispers and gasps erupted around them, like the sound of a strange breeze, and Broadway gave Brooklyn a questioning look. Brooklyn shrugged in response. He couldn't begin to guess who Cato was or what was going on. The stranger turned and addressed Lexington coldly,
"Cato is dead."
"Dead?" Lexington replied in a surprised voice, "I'm sorry."
"I am Striker," the stranger told him, "Formally, Captain of Missions Abroad. I am the interim leader of the clan, until the council selects a new elder as their leader. So, you will speak to me. Come."
Hesitantly, Lexington followed Striker away down the path, leaving Brooklyn, Broadway, and Bronx alone, surrounded by a threatening unknown number of hidden warriors.
"What is going on, Brooklyn?" Broadway groaned in his low voice.
"I have no idea," Brooklyn replied truthfully. Bronx was turning in frantic circles. He could hear and smell the presence of the multiple beings surrounding them even clearer than his own two masters, but he didn't know which way to prepare to pounce.
"What's he going to do to Lexington?" Broadway asked, "Should we go after him?"
"That's not going to happen!" came the sound of a low, but cocky voice, only inches away from Brooklyn's right ear. Instinctively, Brooklyn swung his powerful arm at the disembodied voice, and two claws found his shoulder and pushed him back into the center of the invisible circle. Another murmur of voices ensued, though many of them now sounded mirthful.
A moment later, Broadway shuddered as something touched the back of his neck, then scampered away. He hissed as he swung blindly and comically into the darkness and the voices murmured and giggled at his reaction.
Next, something thick and heavy, and unmistakable tail-like, swung across the path and knocked Brooklyn from his feet. Bronx could no longer contain himself and, with a snarl, he pounced at the empty space, his jaw clamping on some sort of fabric, which he pulled away to reveal a rather formidable, female warrior, who he had also knocked to the ground. The female smiled coyly at Brooklyn, but he was having none of it. He pounced on her, pinning her down to the ground, only to immediately feel multiple claws on his wings and shoulders, yanking him to his feet and then holding him captive once again.
The female rose from the dust. She didn't appear too bothered about having been revealed to them by Bronx. In fact, she gave a genuine laugh as she watched the two warriors struggle to break free from her hidden comrades. Tauntingly, she stepped closer and closer toward an enraged and indignant Brooklyn, who was helpless to stop her. She reached her claw up and stroked his face affectionately. She laughed again and kissed him on the end of his beak, which he responded to with a snarl. She stepped backward away from him, laughing heartily at his outrage, and then only her laugher remained as the night seemed to envelope her like a blanket.
For the next several minutes, they were similarly taunted and teased by the crowd of gargoyle voices around them.
"They're playing with us, Brooklyn!" Broadway grumbled.
"I know." Brooklyn replied, "I hate it."
Their torment lasted only a few moments more, when a low whistle sounded and the invisible crown gradually grew silent. The arms that had bound them released them and though Brooklyn got a good punch at someone's something (He hoped it was their face.), they gradually became aware that they were now truly alone amid the swirling fog, eerily illuminated by distant city lights.
Bronx shattered the silence with a sharp series of barks, and Lexington scampered toward them down the path.
"Come on! Let's get out of here!" he growled and they were more than happy to comply.
Brooklyn scooped up Bronx and they quickly left the jetty and made their way back to the buoy where Lexington wordlessly began shutting down his laptop and packing his equipment in one of the crates. The other, he left in the middle of the platform with a small device that looked somewhat like a baby monitor with a blinking light.
"The drones will make their way back into the crate and we can collect them after sunset," he muttered.
"Wait! You're just giving up?" Brooklyn demanded accusingly, "What about Sorrow? And the mountain clan? And the missing hatchlings? That Striker guy was intimidating but…" Brooklyn paused, looking at Lexington who had turned back to him with his eyes rolling. In his claw, he held a long, thin box that looked like it had been carved out of some alien mineral.
"That's it?!" Brooklyn exclaimed in disbelief.
"Striker had it," Lexington explained.
"Umm…I have a few questions," Broadway began.
"Yeah, I have some questions too," Brooklyn interrupted angrily, "And my first question is…What the hell was that?!"
"Sorry," Lexington answered, "That particular 'hell' is classified information. I can't tell you for your own safety."
Brooklyn and Broadway stared at him in confusion and a little anger.
"Are you serious?" Brooklyn demanded, "Broadway, I think he's serious!"
"I am serious," Lexington confirmed.
"But…we're your brothers!" Broadway exclaimed indignantly.
"And I love you," Lexington told him, "That's why I can't tell you."
"You've got to be kidding me!" Brooklyn complained.
"We have to tell Goliath what happened tonight," Broadway pointed out, "He's going to want to know whatever you know."
Lexington looked back at them uneasily with solemn, round eyes.
"Goliath knows about this?!" Brooklyn exclaimed, now in a state of advanced outrage, "I'm supposed to be his second! Why in the world wouldn't he tell me there's a whole new clan of lunatic gargoyles that know about us, lurking in the harbor?"
"He couldn't tell you."
"Why not?"
"I can't tell you why we can't tell you what we can't tell you without telling you what we can't tell you," Lexington explained with a sheepish smile, "Sorry."
Brooklyn's eyes narrowed into a brutal glare at his much smaller brother. He reached his claw out and snatched the box from Lexington's claw.
"Fine," he retorted bitterly, "Let's just go home."