She opened her wide, gaping mouth to reveal two rows of sharp teeth, almost like a shark. Her bony hands ended in fierce claws, as did her webbed feet.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, knowing my face was screwed up in a grimace and unable to help it.
“It’s the puca’s third form, incredibly useful for small, tight places,” Austin said. “Horribly ugly and quite scary in a place like a cave. She can see in great detail in the dark in that form, and hide in little crevices or hang upside down like a bat. I think it’s also useful in water.” He gently wrapped his fingers around my upper arm. “This whole situation has been sprung on you. We can always come back once you’ve had time to fully recover.”
I shook my head, hardening my resolve. “They might come up with another plan by then. Given they haven’t left—”
“They might have left,” the basajaun interrupted. “I really could not say. They might be in there, or they might have left. They might be trespassing on my mountain, hoping I do not find them. They might be trespassing in town, hoping the polar bear—”
“Right, right, okay. I get it. We’ll act like they are in there, and be pleasantly surprised if they are not.” I patted myself, half thinking of changing forms like all the others. Like Austin had stepped back to do. But even though it was easy to change, and I’d had enough recovery time to fly again, I wasn’t used to fighting in that form. I didn’t have any muscle memory as a gargoyle. It would slow me down, and I was already too slow.
Gritting my teeth, choosing to stay as I was, I stepped forward to walk through the illusion.30Before I made it, Austin nudged me to the side and took my place.
“Dang it, Austin.” I followed him inside, Damarion at my back, his claws poking my shoulder.
I crossed the threshold. The second my head was through, the sights and sounds from the clearing were cut off—the raspy shake of pine trees, the shimmer of sycamore leaves, the call of birds, and the soft rustle of animals within the underbrush. Instead, a vast emptiness shrouded in darkness gave the space a hollow feeling, like we’d stepped into a vacuum and lost all of our senses.
A furry body brushed against my side, Austin moving, so I stepped closer, widening my eyes in a vain attempt to see through the pitch darkness.
Claw scraped stone, and I felt a brush of wing, the movement wafting air in the stagnant space. Damarion was on scene. He bumped me into Austin’s big, furry body, and I found myself trapped between the two of them.
“I wish I knew how to make light,” I whispered. I had no idea how well sound carried in here, but with just stone and air, it didn’t have much to deaden it.
Austin moved away, the act making barely a whisper of sound. His grunt-growl wasn’t so quiet. It sounded like he’d hit a wall. More wings rustled, the sound like a class of kindergarteners who had just been given construction paper.
“We need to do this quickly. They’ll hear us coming,” I whispered.
Scrabbling against the rock caught my ears, and then something grabbed my leg.
I let out a yelp and jumped, kicking my leg out. A critter crawled up to my thigh, needle-like claws poking me, before jumping off.
“Oh God, what was that?” My whisper had grown in volume. I expected jets of magic any minute now.
A soft growl, low and mean, cut through my middle and froze my blood. If it hadn’t come from Austin, I would have taken off running blindly into the darkness to get away. A whine and a series of clicking sounds came from his direction, followed by more scrabbling against the wall.
“We need light or fire,” I whispered, waving my hands in front of me and feeling forward with my feet just in case the floor dropped away.
Another whine and more clicks preceded the little critter grabbing on to my calf. I yelped again and tried to shake it off.
“Nee-vvvv,” one of the gargoyles—Mr. Tom?—grunted out.
“Right, yes. That horrible little form. Boy did she get unlucky with her types of magic,” I said, stilling as Niamh darted away.
“May-ch pear-soon-ahl-ty,” he replied.
Match personality, it sounded like. Mr. Tom couldn’t speak, but he still had something to say about Niamh.
The clicking carried off down the hall and stopped. I followed, assuming that meant she was leading us, still waving my arms in the empty space but not being so cautious with my feet. Ten paces along and she stopped.
Wings rustled. Claws scraped against stone. My feet scuffed and Austin puffed out a breath, clearly sniffing the air. We were anything but quiet.
“This was a bad idea,” I whispered as the clicking sound traveled upward to my right. She had to be climbing a wall. “We should go out and get a lighter. From now on, we bring phones as well as clothes. Stupid not to bring phones, really.”