Free Gargoyle Knight: A Dark Urban Fantasy by William Massa

earlier. The timing was perfect as he brought it up and deflected five incoming daggers, a hail of steel. He pushed Rhianna back to her feet and they barreled their way through the gauntlet of sharp metal. Knives and other blades stitched the air, missing them by inches or bouncing off the shield.  
    The medieval window jumped into view and Artan picked up speed, now moving at full bore. Rhianna’s face filled with panic the moment Artan’s intentions became clear. She mouthed a silent NOOO, but her protest went unheeded.  
    They disappeared through the window in an explosion of glass.  

C HAPTER S EVEN

    CAEL APPROACHED THE shattered museum window, and was greeted by fading daylight beyond. He could make out Artan and the female vanishing among the thickets, the shadows of the trees erasing them from view. He touched the knife tattoo on his forearm and the storm died down. There was no need to waste more energy on the spell.  
    His first instinct was to press on and pursue Artan and the woman, to face his brother and finish him once and for all. But caution prevailed. Despite Cael’s magical advantage, Artan posed a considerable threat and Samhain was approaching fast. Time was of the essence. The window during which he could pave the way for Balor’s return to this world was shrinking. He had to acquire the Eye of Balor and complete the ritual his brother had interrupted all those years ago. His personal vengeance would have to wait.  
    The druid strode toward the nearest exit. He didn’t go far before a guard tried to intercept him. The man faced him with his strange weapon held high.  
    “Freeze!”
    Cael wondered how the man planned to stop him with the metallic object that he was pointing at him. He raised his dagger to test the guard’s response and the wall next to his head exploded.
    Interesting.
    The warrior-druid smelled the cordite in the air and realized fire and steel had evolved during the years of his imprisonment. He respected the ingenuity of this advanced lethal technology but didn’t share the same sentiment for a warrior who wielded such a weapon. It took skill and courage to face oblivion armed with just a piece of sharp steel and one’s own physicality. Taking a life from a distance was easy. A mere child could become a killer. This was the weapon of a coward. And the guard who addressed him now with a quivering voice did little to sway the low opinion Cael was beginning to form for this modern-day warrior.  
    “I said freeze! Stay right where you are…”
    The guard’s words died on his lips as Cael spun toward him. Before the man could draw a bead on him, Cael was in his face, blade up, six inches of glittering death. There was no hesitation as he drove his dagger into the man. In and out, once, twice. Cael withdrew the bloody knife with a splash of gore, and the man crumpled into a lifeless ball.  
    The warrior-druid didn’t even break a sweat. His breath didn’t accelerate and his nerves were pure steel. He was a warrior forged by a brutal period in human history when weakness wasn’t tolerated. Among a people the world would now deem savages, Cael had been the most savage of them all. You lived or you died, and the warrior-druid intended to live. He had been granted a second chance to carry out his master’s will and he planned to take full advantage of it.  
    Cael exited the Cloisters through the main doorway. The sun had transformed into a bloody ball about to be lidded into darkness, and a fresh gust of wind greeted him. Instead of recoiling from the cold, he took a deep breath of the brisk air, basking in the simple pleasure of being flesh and blood again. His enjoyment of being part of the world was tempered by another sensation: as he faced the red light of the sun, he could feel the caged monster stirring inside of him. The change was upon him. For now, he could still resist the call of the gargoyle, but soon the beast would demand to be released from the prison of