Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

you? It’s cold.”
    Unable to see the humor in it, I inched onto the small patch of unsanctified ground, marked by a red slab of cement and Pierce’s grave. Six large gargoyles, male and female, lurked on the surrounding stones, their wings draped over their backs. Behind them, dozens lurked, watching as well. A huge gargoyle was perched on the angel statue, his claws leaving delicate scratches on the angel’s face like tears.
    Nervous, I scuffed my feet, and his big red eyes narrowed at me. It was obvious they didn’t like being this close to the ground, but it put them nearer to the one line in Cincinnati that was humming instead of screaming. “Uh, hi,” I said, pulling one hand out of my jeans pocket to give him a little wave, and the rest of them shifted their wings in a leathery hush. I have two of the world’s most powerful rings in my pocket, and I’m in danger of being squished. “Ah, you must be Bis’s father.”
    “I’m Etude,” the gargoyle on the statue said, his vowels grinding together low and deep in his throat. He shifted his claws, and a flake of stone broke from the statue, hitting the cement to shatter. His ears flattening for a second, he flushed a deep black. Suddenly I felt more relaxed, having seen Bis do the same thing when embarrassed.
    “Don’t worry,” I said. “I never liked that statue much. This is Jenks.”
    Jenks made a burst of dust but stayed on my shoulder. “I’m here to make sure none of you hulks hurt Rachel,” he said loudly, and the gargoyles around us murmured, sounding like a distant avalanche. “I’m just warning you, is all,” he finished, and I lifted my shoulder to get him to shut up.
    “Ah, about me losing Bis in the ever-after—”
    “Bis?” the old gargoyle said, and I sighed at the interruption. “Yes. Ah. Can I talk to you?”
    “Sure . . .” Confused, I stuffed my hands back in my pockets, not knowing what was going on anymore. This wasn’t what I had expected.
    “There seems to be some confusion,” Etude said, gesturing to the gargoyles surrounding us. “Everyone seems to think Bis is going to do this great thing. But this is my son we’re talking about. We all know the mistakes he’s made, the errors he sings.”
    The gargoyles watching nodded, their eyes showing impatience. Not liking their attitude, I cocked a hip. “He’s saved my life more than once.”
    “All I’m saying is that it’s a lot to put on someone so young,” Bis’s dad said. “He’s only forty-seven.”
    “He told me he was fifty!” Jenks exclaimed.
    Etude’s wings opened, and I backed up in alarm, but he was only making the jump to the flat slab of cement. My expression blanked as he came forward on widely spaced toes. My God. He was huge. I froze, and Jenks darted away when the gargoyle put a sinewy, lightly furred arm over my shoulders, towering over me. “You and I both know that Bis is a good kid, but he’s just a kid,” he said softly, shifting his wings to block the other gargoyles’ sight of us.
    Unnerved, I let him move me forward back onto the softer ground and away from the others. “They’re calling him the world breaker,” I prompted, and Etude snuffed, his pricked ears going flat for a moment. He smelled like an iron bell, and somehow it made my teeth hurt.
    “He’s my son,” he said. “He’s bonded to you—a demon. I can see it in your aura. This isn’t what I wanted for him. Everyone wants their child to grow up a little better than they are,” Etude continued. “Settle down, raise a few goyles. Sing songs that resonate with the universe.”
    “That’s not what I want for my kids,” Jenks said.
    “I accept his choices,” Bis’s dad said, far too reasonably to make me comfortable. “Even if it means that he might have to live in the ever-after and never see the stars again.”
    “I wouldn’t make him do that,” I protested, and his hand on my shoulder tensed, his claws pinching me for a bare second in warning.
    “But you and I both know that Bis is not a great hero. He is a lob-winged klutz.”
    My mouth dropped open, and I pulled out from under his wing. “Etude, I think you have sold your son short,” I said, facing him squarely, not liking that I had to look up at him. He was the size of a small elephant. “Your son, at the tender age of forty-seven, found and pulled my soul out of the ley lines when I had hardly a scrap of aura left to find it.” I jabbed a finger up at Etude’s bare,