Free The Gargoyle at the Gates by Philippa Dowding

guitar music.
    After Christopher finished his song, he waved at Ambergine (Gargoth had already disappeared back into the bushes), turned off the spotlight, then closed the window. As he lay in his bed, he couldn’t help grinning. The world was a great place.
    He loved Toronto and his new friends.
    The next morning, he woke and opened his window to wave good morning to Ambergine … and saw a terrible sight.
    Two gargoyles lay smashed to pieces at the base of the apple tree! Christopher’s heart sped up to a painful thudding in his chest.
    It’s just the statues, isn’t it? Yes, it must be!
    Christopher forced himself to look carefully over the park … and gasped. The apple tree was gone! It lay ruined in the snow where someone had chopped it down. Apples lay everywhere. Christopher stared in horror … his special park was a ruined mess, and heavy human footprints trampled the fresh snow, all around.

Chapter Twenty-One
    Cassandra Makes the Call
    Christopher ran downstairs, jumped into Marc’s much-too-big work boots, and burst out the back door. Marbles flew out the door with him, and boy and dog ran through the snow and along the park fence to the gates. Cassandra was standing there in a long cloak, peering into the park. She patted Marbles, who wagged his tail and banged his head into her knees.
    â€œCassandra! The gargoyles! What happened?” Christopher was breathless, realizing at that very moment that he was standing at the gates in his pyjamas. A streetcar rolled by and he noticed people pointing at him. He started shivering. Cassandra took off her warm cloak and put it on his shoulders, which was strangely comforting.
    â€œI don’t know where they are. They’re gone, though. I’ve called and called them,” she said.
    Christopher peered into the park. The smashed stone gargoyles lay in pieces at the stump of the apple tree. The tree itself lay shedding apples on the ground. He looked up at the park gates, now so barren without their gargoyles, living or stone.
    â€œWho would break the stone gargoyle statues? Who would cut down a living tree?” he asked, his lips shivering, although he was no longer cold.
    â€œCan’t you guess?” Cassandra asked calmly.
    â€œWell, vandals could do it, somebody angry,” Christopher said, knowing it wasn’t vandals.
    â€œYes, somebody angry. But no, not vandals, Christopher, although that might actually be nicer than the alternative. No, I’m afraid the Collector has seen his chance and surprised the gargoyles in their sleep, even though one of them is usually awake to keep watch. He’s broken the stone statues and chopped down the tree in a rage.” She looked down sadly at the boy beside her.
    â€œWe can only hope that our friends escaped,” she added quietly.
    Christopher grasped Marbles by the collar and said in a fierce voice, “The Collector is not going to hurt them, because I won’t let him!” She laid a hand on his shoulder.
    â€œThey may be at Katherine’s,” she said.
    There was hope, then.
    Christopher ran to his house to get dressed. Since it was Saturday, most of his family was out shopping. Someone always needed to buy something in a big family. Claire was at home, though, studying for a big chemistry test. When he whipped past her room on his way out, she jumped up and ran after him, saying, “What’s happening, C.C.? What’s the rush?” but her little brother didn’t even slow down to answer her. She stood at the back door holding Marbles by the collar, watching Christopher dash through the snow, across the street and into Candles by Daye.
    â€œHmm. I’m going to have to pay that store a visit,” Claire said to Marbles as she shut the door. Marbles whined, wagged his tail, and lay down in his bed by the back door.
    Christopher burst into the store with a loud tinkle of the shop bell. It had a “Closed” sign hanging