The Attic (Completed)

Chapter 20

The beast shrieked as it hit the ground belly first.

Ian was up on its back, grasping it by the spinal ridge. Had he pulled the creature down somehow?

Lily strained to see through the open window, barely believing her eyes.

The gargoyle shook its head violently but Ian held on tight, pinching his knees into the beast's sides. In one deft movement, he let go of the spine and gripped its neck in a strangle hold.

Eyes wide with fury, the creature jerked its head backward; trying to thwack him.

"Enough," Ian shouted, striking the beast on the snout with a closed fist.

The beast grew so still Lily thought it had turned to marble again. But then it lowered its body to ground submissively, and Ian climbed off.

"I'm sorry, Master," it keened in a deep, sandpaper voice. "I didn't realize you were here." He lowered his tusked maw. "I lost control of myself. It won't happen again."

Ian stood over the creature, hands on his hips. "It better not. Because next time I won't be so forgiving. You are not to attack a human—ever."

From the tree branch where he sat perched, Bogart was singing his heart out again.

Another orb dropped to the ground and the next statue stretched and yawned, stepping down off its pedestal. She couldn't see down the trail—it was too dark—but she supposed they were all doing the same. Four creatures now gathered below the tree, zoning in on her open window: some with surprise and curiosity, others with hungry intent. How could they even see her from that distance?

If she hadn't so firmly believed this to be a dream, she might have been hyperventilating by now; nevertheless, her pulse drummed in her ears and her breathing was shallow.

One creature, with the toned body of a man's, approached Ian slowly, a cautious look on his face. He wore a black loincloth and his body was covered with short charcoal-gray hair; or at least, it appeared gray in the moonlight. Atop a thick neck, he had a long canine snout rimmed with serrated teeth. Furry dog ears pointed backward and scruffy brows hung part way over his eyes. He resembled the Egyptian Anubis.

Ian crossed his arms over his chest and watched as the Anubis peered up at Lily's window, meeting her gaze with shiny, shrewd irises. She held her breath. Would he lunge up the tree as the other had?

The dog-man's lips curled back from crocodile teeth as he let out an abrasive snarl. She swallowed down a wave of nausea and surprised herself by growling back at him. What on earth was she thinking? The look in his eyes became so savage she thought he'd surely go for her throat.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the savage look faded and his features softened.

"Well, played, my dear," he said in a loud, warm voice; grinning like a jackel. "Name's Varkis and I'm pleased to meet you . . . human."

She pinched herself again. Oh, let this be a dream.

"I'm—uh, pleased to meet you too," she said through the open window, her hands on the rim.

The gargoyles, six of them, spoke amongst themselves in hushed tones and eyed her window with looks of unease. It was as if they were afraid of her; though maybe not specifically of her but of Ian, who stood between them and the tree with his strong arms folded over his chest.

Varkis scratched the tip of one ear with a long claw. "Ian," he said, "you must introduce us to this remarkable female human of yours and explain why you've allowed her to know of our existence."