Free Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2) by Lisa Blackwood Page A

this
world he’d gathered from touching Lillian’s thoughts. He’d gleaned most of the
destruction the humans caused was brought about due to ignorance, greed, and
neglect more than willfully serving evil. It was a common failing with a young
species.
    The vast
majority of humans still had potential.
    So he should view them with the tolerance he would grant any youngling.
    But being
rational was difficult when others were surrounding Lillian, keeping him from
her side.
    They’d only had
a handful of days between when she’d first called him from his stone sleep, to
when she’d had to merge with her hamadryad to heal. It wasn’t enough time.
Under normal circumstances when they were reborn, they grew up side by side,
studying and training until they matured into their full strength.
    Until this last
time when the Lady of Battles interfered. He hadn’t realized how vital
childhood was to them—it gave them both a chance to adapt, to relearn how to
function as two separate beings, when they’d recently been one being in the Spirit
Realm.
    “Oh,
Gregory,” Lillian’s thoughts merged fully with his. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t remember what our childhood was supposed to be like.
I only knew I needed to be near my gargoyle statue, I couldn’t remember
anything else.”
    Gregory jerked
in surprise, his wings twitching so hard he snagged one in a low hanging spruce
bough, causing the whole tree to shake. He darted off to the left as three of
the soldiers aimed their guns where he’d just been.
    “Gregory, are
you all right?”
    “Yes,” he admitted a touch sheepishly. “I was distracted and gave my
position away.”
    “Now that I
know why you’ve been distracted,” Lillian mused, “I’ve
a better idea how to help us adapt. I may not have much magic, but I have
myself. I’ll make time for us even if I have to barricade us in the wine
cellar.”
    The accompanying
image her words inspired gained a chuckle from him. While he’d never been fond
of fermented drinks, he didn’t doubt Lillian could still entertain him even in
such a dark and chilled place.
    With her
promise, he found he could tolerate the humans with some semblance of
benevolence even if they were closer to Lillian than he’d wished. He even
dropped back a few paces so he wasn’t tempted to antagonize the nearest male.
Which, he mused, was rather generous of him, since the man was the one who had
entertained the offensive thoughts.
    The humans’
leader made subtle gestures with his hands, which Gregory interpreted as silent
orders. As the soldiers spread out, hastening to obey in a coordinated fashion,
he moved out of the way of any soldier who settled too close to his position.
Once the soldiers became stationary and the forest was quiet again, he
acknowledged with a touch of respect they were very good at blending in with
their environment. They had arranged themselves in a loose circle, with Lillian
and the pooka once again in the center. Neither one looked happy to be there.
But with the soldiers’ weapons pointed out into the surrounding forest, it was
the safest place for his dryad mistress.
    He hunched down
near the base of a great old spruce, its wide trunk offered enough cover to
hide him even if he wasn’t cloaked in his own magic. He thought he understood
Resnick’s reasoning. By ordering his men to dig in, they could set up a
defensive perimeter, use Lillian and the pony as bait, and wait to see what
came sniffing after them. It was the safest strategy until reinforcements made
it to their location.
    He didn’t have
long to wait to confirm his theory. Silent, black shadows eased through the
trees to the south. They moved with a smooth, deadly grace Gregory admired. Not
as elegant as a sidhe warrior, but as close as a human could come. The
newcomers merged seamlessly with the soldiers already in position.
    Resnick and
another officer, a female by her scent, conversed with each other in hushed
tones. Gregory held his position and