Part 18 (1/2)
Rya hastily stepped between them, speaking to Levet. ”Does your magic work?”
The gargoyle shrugged, pretending he didn't notice the furious dragon half-breed who was glaring at him with murder in his eyes.
”I fear not.” His wings drooped. ”I attempted to create a portal when we were first captured. There is a dampening spell that is interfering.”
”A dampening spell.” Rya gave a slow nod. ”That would explain why I couldn't use my shadow. Do you think it's Sylvermyst magic?”
”Non. I would guess that it is the spell of an ancient dragon.” Levet shot a glance toward Torque. ”No doubt your female is responsible.”
Torque curled his fingers into tight fists. He was going to kill the gargoyle. It was that simple.
”She's not my female,” he snapped. ”I've never seen the dragon before today.”
”Hmm.” The gargoyle allowed a suggestive smile to touch his lips. ”She created your lair.”
Rya made a strangled sound of warning. ”Levet.”
Perhaps realizing the danger of poking at an enraged dragon, the gargoyle heaved a small sigh. ”Fine.” Levet sent him a challenging frown. ”Did you ask the dragon how we can leave this place?”
”Of course I did,” he snapped.
”And?”
”And...” Torque considered his words. ”She's confused.”
Of course the annoying pest couldn't just leave it there.
”What do you mean, confused?”
”I'm not entirely certain. Perhaps she's mentally traumatized,” he said between clenched teeth.
The idiotic creature gave a small squeak, his tail twitching. ”There is a crazy dragon nearby?”
Torque's gaze jerked toward the doorway, half expecting a blast of dragon-fire.
”Perhaps you could call her crazy a little louder?” he snarled. ”I'm not sure she heard you.”
”Enough.” Rya sent them a mutual glare of impatience. ”I believe the dragon is trying to protect us.”
Levet turned toward Rya, deliberately flicking his tail in Torque's direction.
”Protect us from what?” the tiny demon demanded.
Rya grimaced. ”That's the question we're still trying to answer.”
Levet muttered something beneath his breath, his claws sc.r.a.ping against the stone floor as he paced toward the fireplace. Abruptly he whirled back around, pointing toward Torque. ”You must do something.”
”Do what?” Torque snapped.
”Discover who has captured us.” The gargoyle sent him a smug smile. ”You are a warrior, are you not?”
Torque snorted. ”I seem to remember your incessant chatter about being some sort knight in s.h.i.+ning armor.”
The gargoyle grabbed his tail and busily started to polish the tip. ”It is true that I am a hero.”
”So why don't you do something to rescue us?”
”I told you,” he muttered. ”I do not like the cold.”
Torque stepped forward, his dragon-fire dancing over his skin. Before he could reach the aggravating pest, however, Rya was once again moving to stand between them.
”The female dragon requested we wait,” she said in stern tones. ”For now, that's what we'll do.”
Levet gave a small sniff. ”And then?”
”Then we'll toss you out the door and see if the crazed dragon desires gargoyle for dinner,” Torque snarled, pivoting on his heel to storm toward the nearest doorway.
He might as well spend his time lifting weights.
It wasn't like he was going to have an opportunity to relieve his frustration by more pleasurable means.
Finn folded his arms over his chest.
Absently he was aware of the call of a finch, and closer, the rustle of leaves in a nearby tree, but his focus remained locked on the female Sylvermyst who had lowered her head to hide her expressive features.
The movement allowed the sunlight to pick up the copper highlights in her hair that spilled over her shoulders and down her back.
His fingers suddenly itched to reach out and discover if it was as silky soft as it looked.
Muttering a curse at his treacherous fascination with the female, he clenched his hands into tight fists.
Dammit.
The female had just revealed her brothers intended to kill him. The last thing he should be thinking about was threading his fingers in that glorious mane of hair so he could yank her against his body.
”How many entrances are there into the cavern?” he demanded, his voice sharper than necessary.
Adair abruptly jerked her head up to study him with a horrified gaze.
”You can't go there,” she protested. ”It's too dangerous.”
His lips twisted in a humorless smile. ”You've just told me I'm a dead sprite regardless of what I do. I'm not going to wait and be led like a lamb to the slaughter.”
She stretched her hand toward him, her expression pleading. ”I can try to return you to your homeland.”
He stiffened, outraged by the mere suggestion he would allow her to take him home while his tribe remained enslaved.
”And leave behind my people?”