Renegade Fey pt. 3:

Shifting Allegiances

By: Gargress

Date Started: November 15, 1999 @ 1:09 PM

Date Ended: June 6, 2001 @ 2:14 AM

Author’s Note: This one’s really late, reason being that I guess I had to get away from this certain piece of writing for a while. It got stale and I needed some fresh air, but it’s done—finally! Thank you to those who offered to help me write this installment, I fell off my chair when I actually received email asking me if I needed some help. I’m flattered! But, like I said, I think I just needed some time away to actually write this one. I did have 75% of it done but I didn’t feel comfortable with it, so some more writing and revising had to take place before the finished product could finally happen. I hope everyone enjoys, and email is always welcomed!

Accolades & Acknowledgements: To Kelly for being my muse and constant friend—thanks for beta-reading! To Jermaine, forever one of my best friends—your senior solo was awesome!

Disclaimer: Any copyrighted phrases—a shirt logo, for example—is property of its owner, whoever that person may be. ;p My characters are mine and the original Gargoyles characters are property of Disney. No infringement or bad things meant towards anyone! Yadda yadda yadda…

Now on with the show!

***

A tall, dark mansion rose proudly above its neighbors, with a certain regal quality that made it stand apart from the rest of the mansions on the block. The sun slowly set over the far horizon, which caused the sky to gradually darken into night. Grotesque gargoyle statues glared menacingly down at the streets they overlooked, the dying of the light making them appear even more intimidating.

"Time after time my plans have been thwarted, and Goliath remains the ideal gargoyle in Angela’s eyes, but no more." Demona leafed through the yellowed brittle pages of an old text, just one of many of her collection of old tomes.

It had been weeks ever since her initial meeting with the newcomer, Maya. Demona was puzzled by the younger gargress’ sudden disappearance and would have preferred to wait for Maya before going further with her plans. But she was through waiting. The Winter Solstice was near and Goliath’s Clan would be preparing to celebrate the start of the season with longer nights. Now was the time to strike.

Her first plans on attempting a second time to make Goliath "see the light" had been terminated with the disappearance of VH157, which had cost Nightstone thousands. Demona had yet to find out who was the inside snitch in the R & D Department but, once found, the human responsible for her loss will wish he were dead.

Sighing, the flame-haired gargoyle closed her tired eyes in a feeble attempt to banish the stinging sensation in them. Dubbing the pursuit futile, Demona opened her eyes and wandered away from the old podium where the spell book she was reading sat. The open French doors of the large room allowed a cool night breeze to enter, slightly rustling the gargress’ wild red mane.

Demona paused in front of the open doors, looking out at the cloud-less night sky. In December New York tended to get very cold, sometimes unbearably so. It was odd that the ground wasn’t already covered in foot-deep snow, but Demona was sure it wouldn’t be long until it finally did snow.

She allowed herself to reminisce in her old memories of Scotland… of Goliath. The fool, she thought bitterly. If only if he would have taken the clan away from the castle that night. If only he would have listened. But there wasn’t a point in torturing one’s self on what could have been, was there? Not allowing more saddening thoughts to flood her mind, Demona spread her wings and leaped out into the night. A good, quiet flight with no one in sight always served to calm her nerves.

***

A familiar red beaked gargoyle remained standing vigil on a high ledge of a building near Central Park, his rookery brother by his side.

"Hey Brook, your mind’s wandering again," Lexington said suddenly, jolting Brooklyn out of his space-out.

"Huh--? Wha—did you say something?" He turned to give Lexington a perplexed look. The smaller, green gargoyle merely laughed aloud.

"You really have it in for her, don’t you?" he joked, a huge fanged grin from ear to ear across his face.

Brooklyn frowned at Lex, but then sighed in defeat. "Yeah, maybe. I just—I—don’t know how to tell her. It’s like I don’t even exist in that way for her."

Lexington then looked surprised. Brooklyn was never the type to admit what he was feeling, especially not to any of his rookery brothers. "Well, maybe she just hasn’t realized what you feel. You could just come out and tell her," Lex trailed off, hoping Brook would get the idea.

A look of sudden realization spread over the beaked gargoyle’s face. Who knows, maybe that would probably work! But with my luck she’d probably rip out my heart and do the Mexican hat dance on it. "All right, I could just come out with it," Brooklyn reasoned with himself while Lexington looked on wearing a huge grin. "I mean, what’s the point in holding something like—"

"Help me! Someone please HELP!!" came a pitiful cry somewhere from the streets below. Both gargoyles snapped to attention. Well, another night another crime to stop.

***

The wonders that the fresh night air could do to the mind and body, she thought with a wide ear to ear grin. The twilight blue gargress laid the final ingredients upon a small round table nearby as she watched the mixture in the caldron before her slowly come to a boil. Reaching over to the table, she picked up a thick tome and balanced it in one taloned hand as she held a lock of chalky white hair in the other. The bound strands were tossed into the caldron’s brew as she spoke an incantation in an archaic language long forgotten. The mixture in the caldron suddenly let off a burst of smoke an eerie green color.

Now the only thing that remained was to execute the final stages of the spell.

Everything was going according to plan.

***

Pyper silently stood on the balcony of the Eyrie Building’s arboretum, just beyond the elevator doors. She found just looking over the scene, with the sound of rushing water from the nearby waterfall, very refreshing. The fey woman found her mind to stay completely devoid of any thoughts whatsoever, the waterfall allowing a well-deserved break from reality. It also allowed someone to come up behind her unnoticed.

A hand touched Pyper’s sweater clad shoulder, making her jerked around to face whoever was behind her with a startled cry. Breathing harshly she frowned at the man standing there. "Owen Burnett, do try not to sneak up on people like that!" She could have sworn she saw an amused glint in his eyes as he apologized.

"I am abjectly sorry Ms. Yolen. I shall try not to ‘sneak up on people’ in the future," he replied, his tone emotionless as ever but Pyper knew he was enjoying scaring her to death more than he should.

She frowned at him and then asked, "So, what brings you down here?"

"Actually, you do Ms. Yolen." That answer surprised her greatly, but she said nothing as he continued. "How is your recovery progressing?"

Her expression lightened as she smoothed back her loose hair from her face. "Well enough. Better than I expected actually." Pyper smiled as she turned back to look out on the arboretum once more. "My powers are not at full strength as of yet, but they’re coming along." She thoughtfully tucked an errant lock of hair behind one of her tapering ears, her thoughts wandering.

Owen had taken to being very polite and distant the few weeks that she stayed at the Eyrie. He even reverted to calling her "Ms. Yolen" now instead of by her true name. His visits to check on her well-being were few but not sparse--

"What are you thinking?" inquired Owen as he stood beside her, his expression a remotely curious one. Pyper turned suddenly, almost bumping into the majordomo because he was closer than she thought him to be. She craned her neck slightly to meet his inquiring gaze with veiled eyes.

"About--" she began but then continued in a softer tone. "About the night of the Thanksgiving gala." Pyper knew she’d struck a chord when Owen visibly tensed, his eyes concentrating on her own. She offered a small smile, her gaze wandering from his. "You listened to what I had to say and… thank you just the same," she concluded, as if leaving a few thoughts unspoken.

Her eyes hesitantly met his once more to find them fondly gazing at her, her own emotions in turmoil. Before Owen could ponder his own human perceptions any further, an angry growl roused him out of his thoughts, back to awareness.

***

Lexington and Brooklyn winged their way on the cold air currents towards Castle Wyvern. They raced towards the city’s tallest skyscraper, Brooklyn in the lead seeing as Lex was tagged before they left the Central Park area. Brook couldn’t believe he was playing a game he hadn’t played since he was a hatchling. Although, he never felt this alive before!

He was about to let Maya know how he felt and no one could get him off the euphoria he was suddenly high on now. Skillfully maneuvering through the clouds surrounding the Eyrie, Brooklyn decided to hide out near the helicopter pad by the arboretum’s glass ceiling. Landing without a sound, the beaked gargoyle hid behind a stone column and leaned against it to catch his breath. Laughing to himself he peeked around the column to not see Lex anywhere. No one beats the master glider!

Turning back to face the arboretum’s glass ceiling, and the grin he wore was immediately wiped off his face. With his heart in his throat and game with Lex forgotten, he leaned forward as close to the transparent covering as he could while he hoped that his eyes were playing tricks on him. But as much as he hoped they were, he knew they weren’t.

Being on such a high one second then being let down so fast afterwards always had different affects on different people, and Brooklyn was no exception. A rage so sudden and so violent took him over, and rational thought not a possibility anymore. His wings flared and he growled menacingly, his eyes glowing an angry white.

***

Lex glided closer to the Eyrie skyscraper with an irritated frown on his face. Looks like Brooklyn had given him the slip this time. Rounding a corner of the Eyrie the small green gargoyle grinned at his luck. Brooklyn was hiding behind a column near the helicopter pad and… what was he doing now?

His rookery brother leaped off his perch and glided quickly up to the castle, looking royally miffed. Lex followed a safe distance away, not know what to expect. The smaller gargoyle’s frown returned as he followed his beaked rookery brother through a lot of the castle’s old passageways that weren’t used anymore. Brooklyn took the passageway that led to the lower part of the arboretum. Then, he stopped to silently seethe out at something on the platform where the elevators were above.

Suddenly the red gargoyle bounded out from the passageway and Lex ran up to see whatever Brooklyn was attacking. The small olive colored gargoyle’s eyes grew as round as bowling balls, if that were possible. Lex immediately took action and to try to stop Brooklyn from gutting Owen!

***

Pyper was startled when Owen jerked away from their closeness so suddenly, but was quickly pulled back to reality when a familiar growl sounded. A battle cry later Pyper found herself almost pushed over the banister of the platform into the water below. Owen had done what he could to get her out of harm’s way before he was attacked head on by… Brooklyn?!

The red gargoyle’s head-on attack was countered by a quick fist in the beak from Owen. Brooklyn seemed dazed as he fell against a pair of elevator doors, the ones nearer to the waterfall. He rubbed his beak but his eyes remained ablaze as he continued to growl menacingly at Owen. Pyper couldn’t react at all to what was going on. She was still in shock that something like this actually was going on!

Lexington suddenly darted out from nowhere to stand feet away from the two unlikely emissaries. The smaller gargoyle, who was usually very docile, was now growling at Brooklyn. "Stop it Brook! This isn’t worth it!" was what the olive green gargoyle yelled, fangs bared.

"The HELL it isn’t!!" Brooklyn yelled back as he lunged for Owen again, but the majordomo was prepared for the assault and smartly stepped aside to hit the enraged gargoyle between the wings. Being hit at the most sensitive spot in a gargoyle’s anatomy, Brooklyn was winded and fell to the ground close to the banister in a huffing puffing pile of wings, arms and legs.

At that moment the other elevator doors, farthest from the waterfall, opened revealing a very stern looking Goliath and a not-so-happy gun-wielding David Xanatos. Lexington remained protectively by Pyper’s side, a very serious expression on his face as well.

"Owen, what is the meaning of this?" the CEO asked his majordomo. Owen Burnett’s expression, or lack thereof, was somewhere near a grimace as he rolled his shoulder, imperceptibly wincing at the sudden pain that lanced through it.

"I think Brooklyn would be the one to answer your question, sir," Owen answered, walking over to where Pyper was while both Xanatos and Goliath’s eyes were immediately on the fallen Brooklyn. Lexington sort of faded into the woodworks, watching silently as Pyper went to tend to Owen’s hurt shoulder. It doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened here and why, Lex thought sadly as he imagined how Brooklyn felt.

***

Brooklyn felt horrible.

Not only in body but in mind and heart.

He didn’t want to get up from the ground where he lay, humiliated. What had drove him to attack that fey-turned-human? He didn’t know. Anger? Rage? Passion?

All eyes were on him, he felt them, felt them gouge into his very gargoyle soul. Finally, he gathered all his inner strength and courage to slowly get up from the ground and face Goliath’s accusing glare.

"I could not believe my ears when Xanatos summoned me, but I now see it was all true. You shame your position as my second and shame the very memory of your noble gargoyle ancestors." Every word that Goliath said was like one more weight being added to the heavy guilt on Brooklyn’s shoulders. "You have acted irresponsibly and worst of all as savagely as a common animal. The whole clan shall take part in deciding what shall be the consequences for your actions."

"I hate to admit it Brooklyn but I think I have to have a say in what happens as well. No one attacks one of my best employees without serious repercussions," Xanatos intoned, his voice lined with a sharp edge.

Brooklyn didn’t dare meet anyone’s accusing glare as Goliath barked an order at his second. "You shall appear in the Great Hall before the clan to face your punishment in no more than half an hour." With that the gargoyle leader went into the elevator he came in once more followed by Xanatos and Lexington. All stole one last accusing glance at Brooklyn before the elevator doors closed from view.

Now the beaked gargoyle turned around, remembering two more people that were present. Owen Burnett’s gaze could freeze hell over but no look that the majordomo could come up with could hurt him half as much as the look Pyper was giving him now. It was a look of pity, hurt, and betrayal. It was a look that seared his soul.

"Brooklyn," she whispered, "how could you attempt something like this?"

Something within the crimson gargoyle was triggered because he immediately growled at Owen, eyes lit like white torches. "That’s some question coming from you Maya."

"What do you mean?" she demanded in a shaky but strong voice.

"You have the gull to ask me that, after you led me on?!" Brooklyn growled, this time advancing on Pyper so suddenly that it made her draw back in alarm. Owen immediately stepped half way between Pyper and Brooklyn while nursing his hurt shoulder that made his whole arm ache, but the beaked gargoyle held fast, keeping the strangely strong feelings of betrayal and hatred he felt at bay.

"Perhaps it is best that you leave. Now," the majordomo said forcefully, eyes glaring daggers at Brooklyn. If he were his true form and at full power, there wasn’t a doubt in Brooklyn’s mind that Owen would curse him three times over and then send him to a very unpleasantly hot place.

Holding his traitorous emotions at bay, Brooklyn turned and left in an elevator to get a breath of fresh air and clear his mind.

What was happening to him?

Was he really that jealous?

***

David Xanatos couldn’t believe what had happened in the arboretum earlier that night. If it weren’t for the silent alert button his majordomo carried at all times, Xanatos knew Owen wouldn’t be alive right now. He and Goliath had seen the security tapes for that hour to determine what had been the cause for Brooklyn’s unsolicited attack on Owen. They weren’t disappointed.

Frankly, the CEO was not at all surprised at seeing his majordomo spending time with their recent houseguest. Xanatos understood that at some level Owen Burnett’s "other" half might, at some point, become lonely during his banishment. Also, as the closest person Xanatos could ever name his friend, the CEO knew that he also had the job of watching out for his personal assistant as much as Owen watched out for his family.

Now the only question that remained was how in the world had Brooklyn become so unhinged. Granted that Brooklyn had intentions to be with Pyper, but Xanatos still didn’t believe that a gargoyle, chosen by Goliath himself to be second-in-command, could be so stable one minute then psychotic another.

***

Pyper paced about in one of the many infirmary rooms as Dr. Billings tended to Owen’s sprained shoulder. She barely heard Dr. Billings leave the room through the barrage of thoughts rushing through her mind. The sound of Owen’s voice startled her.

"What’s worrying you Pyper?" his voice was laced with underlying concern, even though anyone else would say he was just asking a simple question.

Pyper turned to face this man, whom confused her senses so much. The unpleasant experience she had with Niko encouraged her to leave again, perhaps even back to England.

"Owen, it’s my fault Brooklyn attacked you," she said miserably.

"Do not blame yourself for his own distorted version of the truth," Owen reasoned, standing, his gaze unwavering.

In a very quiet voice she replied, "It’s wrong for me to even been here—I need to go," she quickly said as her courage eluded her, and she started for the door as if it was the only escape from some invisible danger. Owen made a grab for her but she jerked free of his grasp with one solid pull. She was out the door in seconds, and the majordomo found himself alone with a bothersome feeling in his chest. He frowned at his inability to handle the issue of Ms. Yolen tactfully. Owen strengthened his resolve and began entertaining other ways of approaching this as carefully as possible, but somehow he knew that was improbable from the start.

***

Brooklyn finally had found the courage within himself to face his Clan and the Xanatoses in the Great Hall. Most wore an expression of heavy vindictiveness, Owen among them. The only one he noticed missing was Maya and he didn’t blame her. Boy he felt like a heel.

He had been ready to attack her not twenty minutes before, but here she was offering him the support he didn’t deserve. The beaked gargoyle’s gaze then came to settle on Xanatos’ personal assistant, meeting the guy’s cold expression without hesitation. Brooklyn was smart enough to know he and Owen weren’t going to be best friends anytime soon.

Suddenly the gargoyle’s temper flared. The nerve of that guy! The moment a growl escaped him Goliath’s raised voice squelched the red gargoyle’s brief moment of anger. "Brooklyn, all present are aware of the deed of which you are guilty of. Unless you would like to try and defend yourself I will continue with your punishment. Of course, all you shall gain will be pity."

The beaked gargoyle grimaced, his gaze dropping to the floor as the clan leader continued. "Very well then. For your past actions and crime of attacking someone without just cause, also in addition to your previous punishment… you shall do what Talon asks of you hereon and will not be in direct contact with any of the Clan or the Xanatos family until I deem fit. Any violation of your punishment will result in more severe consequences. Am I clear Brooklyn?"

The red gargoyle couldn’t have looked more sorry than he did at that moment, his head hanging low as he replied. "Crystal."

There was an uncomfortable pause for Brooklyn, as if they were deciding on what else they could do to him. He wasn’t disappointed. Goliath looked as if he was carved out of stone for what he said next carried no emotion. "For the next two months you shall live with Talon and his clan in the Labyrinth. Consider yourself banished from this castle and this clan. I cannot condone fighting amongst any of us here. Our coexisting with the Xanatos family is based on something more than mere tolerance, and once that is broken there will be nothing left but angst and suspicion." The gargoyle leader continued, everyone else present at a loss for words or in an angry silence. Somewhat more gently, Goliath said, "Go now Brooklyn, Talon is expecting you."

With a final look around at all who were present, Brooklyn’s eyes followed his feet as he walked towards the nearest exit. He’d apologize to Maya. He’d make this up to her, he’d—make sure that fey regretted ever being born! Whoa, get a hold of yourself Brook. Breathe, Brooklyn silently coached himself as he turned and walked out of the Great Hall with as much dignity as circumstances would allow.

No one said a word.

***

"David, do you really think that was necessary?"

"Fox darling, the safety of this family always takes top priority. Brooklyn, even how unlikely this is, has become a liability."

Mrs. Xanatos sat down comfortably in a chair across from her husband’s desk, a frown on her pretty face. "Haven’t you given a thought as to why Brooklyn would suddenly want to skin Owen alive?" David Xanatos frowned but said nothing. This was all a mystery to him too.

"I doubt it’s because Owen’s alternate persona causing mischief again, although he has grown close to our Ms. Yolen. Do you suppose jealousy got the best of Brooklyn?"

"Enough for him to be out for blood? Not likely David."

"Well then it looks as if we have a good mystery on our hands, my dear Fox."

"And you know I love mysteries."

***

Patience, stealth and finesse had finally paid off. She watched Brooklyn land near an abandoned subway station entrance, head hung low and expression grim. The time to act was now.

***

More than neck deep in his own thoughts, Brooklyn failed to see anything but heard a sound of glass shattering. Something made him cough suddenly, the god-awful smell in the air making him hurry down towards the Labyrinth. A night breeze carried most of it off, and when it cleared he thought he heard someone whispering but it looked as if it was just his imagination. When he finally looked there was no one in sight. There was no unfamiliar scent, aside from the residuals from that horrible stench. He hurried on his way, not giving anything a second thought.

***

"Young fool," Demona hissed to herself, a fanged grin making her look centuries younger. Standing from her perch on a nearby ledge of an old apartment building, the immortal gargress spread her wings and glided off into the night. This was going better than planned. Simple yet effective, she chuckled to herself. Now all that remains is to wait a bit more for the final product.

***

This was wonderful. She’d come barging in because of curiosity and now everything was one big mess. Anea sat on her bed in the guestroom she’d been staying in, not sure of what to do now. As far as her meager power reserves had allowed she’d been able to find out about Brooklyn’s sentence, but she’d also felt some kind of a disturbance within the clan’s second. Anea came to a fork in the road again. Maybe helping Brooklyn was the right thing to do but she could just possibly end up making everything worse. Sighing, she dropped back on her bed in a huff. Not sure if she was completely sane, Anea suddenly stood from the four-post bed and strode towards the large French doors that led out to a small balcony.

It looked as if Maya was going to make yet another appearance.

***

Just catching the updraft to a higher altitude Demona caught sight of a gargoyle she hadn’t seen in quite a while. Feeling renewed that night because of everything going as she’d hoped, the immortal gargress banked towards the other gargoyle who dove down towards the city for a graceful landing on a random building near Times Square. Following the gargoyle’s movements Demona easily came down for a landing near the gargoyle, startling the youngling so much so that she whirled to face the female immortal.

The friendly smile fixed on Demona’s face fell faster than a stone.

***

Jane didn’t know what to think. Someone like her but definitely something wasn’t on the up and up. This woman was expecting someone else and there was no telling where this would go. Going with the old adage, ‘Safety first,’ Jane made sure to keep all her thoughts to herself and let this stranger make the first move.

"Don’t be afraid," the stranger said quickly, apparently taken by surprise as much as Jane had been. "Where did you come from?" the gargoyle-woman said calmly, obviously not volunteering any unsolicited info. This chic was definitely up to something, and that wasn’t just instinct talking. The gargoyle had deception written all over her.

"Look lady, I don’t know you and am really not interested in playing twenty questions. So why don’t I go on my way and you go yours okay?" That seemed to make the stranger’s eyes briefly flash with irritation but she persisted.

"It isn’t safe gliding alone in the city anymore, thanks to the Quarrymen," the blue gargoyle growled, eyes glittering red faintly in anger.

"Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. See ya never," Jane said, quickly leaping off the building and out of sight before her acquaintance had a chance to follow. Looks like the "Gargoyles in New York" stories were true after all, but no one mentioned half naked chic gargs running around.

***

Left in the dust, Demona didn’t bother going after this light gray female. From far off the female looked like Maya with her light-colored skin and modern clothing, but she obviously wasn’t. Not expecting a new player in the game at all, the immortal gargress’ mind began entertaining thoughts on the prospects of a new female in the city. The possibilities were endless—

Demona abruptly turned, ready to pounce at the person behind her but ceased her warning growl at the sight of a surprised looking Maya. Seeing no one else on or near the building, Demona straightened and cloaked her wings about her shoulders as Maya had hers. "How bodes your decision of joining me and my cause Maya?"

The younger gargress’ face settled into an unreadable frown, whether it was in disagreement or something else entirely Demona didn’t know. "I will never go directly against you Demona. You have your ways and reasons and I will never question them--"

"But?" the red-haired gargress spat as if the word tasted bad somehow.

"But," Maya also said, but in a softer way. "I refuse to join you in a misbegotten quest for revenge." The younger gargress’ astute answer made Demona both uneasy and suspicious. "The idea of wishing to exterminate an entire race could only have been made in anger and vengeance, things I don’t believe in."

"Then join the enemy, for you are no longer a potential ally to me and are of no consequence," Demona said coldly, beginning to turn away.

"You try to give your plans meaning but admit it—they have none." Maya raised her voice to be heard over the bustling traffic in the streets below. Demona whirled in anger; ready to rip this wench’s wings off like a fly. How dare she!

"Impertinent child! You speak on something you know nothing about!" Demona hissed, looking like a demon from hell with her flared wings and glowing eyes.

Maya wore a look of pity. "Demona, examine your motives… if nothing else." The gargress flared her wings, walking towards the edge of the building. Demona settled somewhat, eyes dimming a little.

"You said you would never question my ways Maya," Demona replied, completely calmed now.

"And I haven’t," the young one said simply before leaping off into the night.

***

The fey lord chuckled to himself as he stroked his chin thoughtfully at the reflection in his mirror. Titana held her Cheshire cat expression in place, keeping her uncertainties to herself.

***

Jane swooped down near Times Square again, hoping that other garg chic wasn’t around anymore. Korn was in the MTV studio and a large crowd of Korn heads were gathered in front of the building. She’d be down there too if it weren’t for the "change of face" she had in rural NewYork. Jane swore she’d never go back, even though the impulse to rip out Sevarious’ liver and serve it to him raw was overwhelming. Although finding a way to convict the dickweed was here in The Big Apple.

After a little in depth research into the Doc’s background she’d found that he had worked for three of the most major companies in the world, and they were all based in Manhattan; Cyberbiotics, Xanatos Enterprises and Nightstone Unlimited. The Doc was definitely a busy little pile of slime; she'd give him that. Now the only thing that remained was to find out more about what jobs this dork had pulled before her run-in with him.

***

Maya sighed in relief. Demona was not an easy person to confront, all things considered. The gargoyle-disguised fey would be enjoying this short glide over Manhattan, but too many things were circling around her mind.

If she could somehow manage to manipulate Demona's hatred of humans into the Strong Dislike category everyone would be the better for it, but Maya doubted that was possible. She had read so much in Demona. Her hatred for humans along with other emotions that were so strong, Maya couldn't possibly hope to comprehend them. That gargoyle indeed had a tired, old soul. One that wished to shut out all it's worries and look to a better day—er, night.

Maya, preoccupied before, hadn't noticed her straying course away from the isle of Manhattan. Startled out of her reverie by the realization of how far she was from the heart of New York, Maya banked left, which had her glide just above Manhattan's southeast coast. She reached over to lightly rub where one of her wing-joints, wincing at how sore it was just like the other.

A good many cliffs coming up under her, the silver gargress swooped down to land gracefully among a sparse gathering of trees and bushes near an old looking house, which had an ominous air about it. Cloaking her wings, Maya calmly but cautiously walked out of the thicket she'd landed in onto what was part of the house's front lawn.

Looking discretely in all directions for signs of any trouble, Maya drew her attentions back to the large mansion of a house that stood alone on it's hill overlooking the sea. Taking a step towards the place she suddenly paused, refusing to let her curiosity get the best of her. The silver gargress began to turn away from the building, casting it one last glance before she began to walk away at a steady pace.

A camera slowly pivoted, following Maya as she departed.

***

Well this is a barrel of monkeys, Brooklyn thought to himself, as he perched on a chair in front of Fang's cell. The mutate in question languidly stretched on his cot, turning onto his other side to continue his catnap.

It was just like Talon to give him a job like this. Brooklyn didn't think his people skills were refined enough to deal with a jerk like Fang and not kill the guy, but Talon seemed the think differently.

Brooklyn sighed deeply, this was going to be a long night. Not that he was at a lack for things to think about, thanks to Owen the Worm. That guy, I swear, he inwardly seethed, though he fought against entertaining ideas of murder and mayhem involving Owen and a short trip off the castle battlements.

***

"David, do you really think this is necessary?" Fox asked her husband, whom which she thought was using overkill. They stood in one of the many rooms in the castle that were quartered off as storage space, of what, only David Xanatos and Owen Burnett knew. Now Fox was in on a secret she didn’t think she wanted to know.

New and improved Steel Clan robots stood, ready for battle at a moment’s notice only by a flip of a switch on a computer console nearby. Xanatos flipped that switch bringing them online, their red eyes flashing on and steadily glowing bright red in the room’s dingy atmosphere.

"Fox dear, what better way to keep a watchful eye on Brooklyn and Ms. Yolen at all times than using the latest from my R & D team? They’re new and very reliable, with state-of-the-art and working stealth mode allowing almost complete and utter silent flight capabilities. What more could you ask for?"

"A better explanation would be, why you feel it necessary to have one of my son’s protectors followed twenty-four hours a day when he’s stone for half that time!" Fox snapped, exasperated.

"You wound me, my dear. I have better uses for my resources than watching a stone gargoyle during the day. Two of these have been outfitted with special holographic emitters that would make them fit in anywhere at any time—"

"You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?" asked Fox in a not amused tone.

David Xanatos grinned his devil-may-care grin. "What’s a little corporate espionage between enemies?"

***

All right, now I’m sure of it, thought Maya to herself as she continued on at a slowly pace through the thicket near the road. Something was giving off some kind of magical signature and has been ever since she left the property of that gloomy estate. Feeling edgy, Maya tried to sneak a glance over her shoulder but she saw nothing except moonlit darkness. She kept on walking then suddenly whirled to come face to face with a… a floating ball of light?

It bobbed and swayed like a drunken fairy light, but ceased its rapid movement to come so close to Maya that she could swat it away if it gave her the chance. Mesmerized by this weirder than weird object, she raised a taloned hand slowly towards it. As soon as she came close to touching the small ball of pulsing light, it zipped away and then erratically from left to right before shooting off into the night sky.

Maya stood alone in the thicket once more, wondering if she had finally gone mad. Not caring for anymore oddities to happen, the silver gargress climbed up a nearby tree and braced herself in its upper branches. Waiting for a good breeze, she slowly opened her wings and leaped out into the night sky. The tree swayed in the breeze from the sudden loss in weight.

The Will o’ the Wisp bobbed about in the night sky, easily mistaken as just another star, albeit a strange one.

***

"But my Lord—" The Fey Queen implored, falling in step with her husband on their way to the Great Hall.

"Do not trouble yourself with these trivial matters my Queen. We shall handle them tactfully and alone," Oberon interrupted, not stopping his steady pace.

Titana persisted, fearing her subtle ways of handling her Lord were losing their reliability. "My Lord Oberon, you must reconsider. This fey-child hasn't the magical experience—"

The Fey Lord paused and turned to his Lady-wife, expression colder than the Arctic Winds themselves. With a finality that was not to be questioned, he spoke. "We have been through this discussion thrice before and We have not changed our decision. The halfling will undergo her magical right-of-passage, as do all Our children once they have deemed recognition in Our eyes. The Sisters' defeat has earned her that recognition."

As if in complete understanding, feigned as it may be, Titana smiled her secretive smile as she spoke. "I understand my Lord Oberon."

"Good," Oberon turned to leave when he paused half way, speaking over his shoulder. "Oh, and Our Queen must not make disagreeing with her lord a habit." He continued on his way, Titana still standing in the middle of the corridor far behind him.

"As you would, my Lord," she said more to herself than to anyone else.

***

Maya easily winged her way down onto her mini-balcony, landing just outside the open French doors to her room. Stretching her dark violet wings one final time, Maya slowly strode into her room as her gargoyle façade slowly melted away like liquid magic leaving the visage of Anea Yolen.

Closing the glass double doors behind herself, Anea felt surprisingly relaxed. The night wasn’t a total wash. Brooklyn might have been out of reach, but perhaps Demona hadn’t been… suddenly the little hairs on the back of her neck prickled. That made her freeze where she stood near the foot of her canopied bed, pulse quickening. Anea turned and bit back a scream for help when an emerald skinned beauty with sugar pink hair stood only feet away. The strange woman was obviously not human, but carried herself with a regal bearing that bespoke of nothing less than royalty.

Slightly slanted eyes unreadable, the woman spoke in a quiet but respectable tone. "I, Lady Titana, Queen of The Third Race and wife of Lord Oberon, have come with grave concern for your safety in the trial that lies ahead."

The woman’s voice exuded a sort of relaxing effect over Anea, but she still remained on the alert. The Weird Sisters were of The Third Race, and Anea didn’t care for their concerns at all. Expression suspicious, the human-disguised fey spoke with an almost indiscernible waver in her voice. "Why should I believe you?"

"Use your instincts child, when in doubt heed them for the answers you seek," the woman, Titana, said cryptically.

Anea’s expression was still skeptical. "And what about this ‘trial,’ is that some kind of threat?" she asked, the subject of trust never coming into mind let alone into play.

"In truth, yes," but seeing Anea begin to retreat Titana continued, "but not from me. Instead, the threat is my Lord and Husband or, rather, his overpowering paranoia."

"Explain," Anea said flatly, sounding more like an order than a question.

"The Third Race is ruled by Lord Oberon. His subjects have many names about the humans, but one most commonly used would be ‘Oberon’s Children.’ Once any of the Children come of age or their magical strengths heighten, my Lord wishes to try them. Simplified, this means that they must face my husband in a magical ‘battle’ of sorts."

Finding this too much to take on, Anea sat down on the chestnut chest at the foot of her bed with doubt written all over her face. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! So you just all of a sudden decide to appear and announce that some high-and-mighty magical being wants to face me in some kind of mortal combat?" Anea took a few calming breaths, burying her face in her hands with a final groan of frustration. "How do I get into these things?!" she half cried to herself.

A comforting emerald-skinned hand touched her shoulder, a honeyed flowery fragrance wafting in the air. Lady Titana rarely offered council to anyone, but when going against Oberon’s magic anything could be useful. "You must prepare yourself, take whatever precautions necessary—speak of this to the Puck if need be—"

"—no!" Anea calmed herself. "No. I am not going to drag him or anyone else into this," she declared. Then, continuing in a low, troubled tone, "I’ve caused them enough grief already without adding this onto the list."

"As you wish, but you must prepare yourself. What my Lord lacks in wit and cunning he makes up for in arrogance and magical strength." Anea cracked a small smile, Titana doing the same.

"But," Anea sighed, "can you not just ask him to stop this? Why don’t you just tell him that I am weaker, that I’m no match for him…?"

"I have tried time and time again child, but Lord Oberon is not one to be persuaded easily," Titana replied solemnly. "I, myself, do not see any other reason for this mockery of a farce other than some kind of hidden agenda. I am certain he is aware of your magical recuperation, but I am afraid I know not what his motives are."

The fey Queen released Anea’s hands as she stood, preparing to leave as a green doorway appeared behind her. Anea also stood. "Wait. Why did you just suddenly decide to drop a bomb like this, and expect to leave again just like that? Why do you even care? Why--?"

"—all will be revealed in due time child," Titana said softly, then turning and slowly walking back into the portal. It closed as easily as it appeared, leaving a jumble of thoughts and worries in its wake.

Anea didn’t know whether to think how she was going to get herself out of this alive or break down and cry harder than rocks fell. This was surreal. Everything was going too fast. She couldn’t keep up—there was a knock at the door.

Wiping away stray tears, the dark-haired young woman called out for whomever it was to go away. A voice she didn’t expect to hear replied. "Ms. Yolen, its Fox. Could I have a word?"

"Not at this particular moment Mrs. Xanatos," she replied in a chipper tone borne of annoyance. Anea sighed tiredly. "Please, perhaps later?"

"All right, no special rush or anything," and just when Anea thought she was left in peace—"Oh and Ms. Yolen?"

"Yes?"

"Don’t throw yourself a pity party just yet," came the cryptic reply before complete silence.

The halfling in human form looked up from where she sat at the foot of the bed, a puzzled expression on her tear-streaked face.

***

Jane stretched her wings back widely with a loud yawn, arms up in the air. She yelped aloud when she almost fell rump-first onto the concrete roof she’d watched the MTV studios from. Damn these messed up monster feet! She sometimes entirely forgot she had to keep her balance as if she were wearing her clunky, high-heeled, black-leather bitch boots she liked so much. Man I’m gonna miss those.

"Hell, I’m gonna miss being a human while wearing them too!" Jane growled to herself, then turned when she heard the tell-tale noises of gargoyles landing behind her. The young gargress none-too-gracefully fell on her face when her tail tangled around her legs. Jane savagely shoved her bangs away from her face, and glared at the trio of gargoyles who stood there. "What the hell is this town doing? Holding a gargs convention or something?!"

The lavender female blushed furiously and blinked at the extreme language, while her tubby companion and little goblin buddy just stared. "Well, aren’t any of you going to be nice enough to help me get up?" Tubby and Goblin rushed forward, helping her up by the arms. "Hey, don’t pull them out of their sockets!" she snapped, jerking free of their grasps while making sure their tails, as well as her own, were out of her way.

"Where did you come from?" the lavender chic with bad fashion sense asked, apparently mystified at her speak as well as black, spaghetti-strapped shirt and clingy flares.

"Well when a mommy and a daddy like each other very much—"

"Hey!" Tubby said indignantly, stepping up beside his apparent girlfriend. Lavender chic looked confused but was trying not to show it.

"You from around here?" Goblin guy piped up, large eyes looking inquiringly at Jane.

"Well the name’s Jane, for one, and secondly I really don’t do staying in one place too long."

"Have you no clan? A family?" Lavender chic asked, compassion all over her, like Tubby’s eyes.

"What are you? Social Worker Gargoyle? Hey, are the psychiatry bills included?" Jane jibed sardonically as she crossed her arms. Tubby almost growled, a frown firmly plastered on his face. "I know I’m all that and a bag of Fritos, but what are you staring at Green Goblin?"

"Uh—just like your shirt! Funny," Goblin replied lamely but then continued. "Well I’m Lexington, this is Broadway and Angela. Sorry we can’t stay long but we were on patrol and—well, we have to be getting back." Goblin’s eye s flickered over in Tubby’s direction, communicating something, which made Jane suspicious and damnably curious.

"Uh-right! Goli—um, we should be getting back. C’mon Angie, time to hit the airways," Tubby said a little too hurriedly, tugging Angela along as he leaped off the building into the night.

"C ya when we c ya," Lexington said with a quick wave as he followed in the hasty retreat.

"Paranoid much?" Jane snorted, watching the three figures until they blended into the night sky in the distance.

***

"Why’d you go and do that Lex?"

The gargoyle being questioned banked closer to his rookery brother, a curious Angela nearby. "Did you see it?"

"Well I didn’t think her shirt was that funny Lex."

"No, no, no. She looked just like Maya. The skin and hair were almost the same," Lex pointed out.

"You think they’re related?" Broadway pondered, looking over at Lex.

The smaller gargoyle shrugged. "I dunno, but if they were then why would Maya keep it from us?"

"You got me."

Angela got out of her own reverie. "I didn’t understand it."

"Understand what Angie?" her respective mate asked.

"Jane’s tunic. I believe it said ‘Where are we going and why am I in a handbasket?’ What an odd question."

Broadway and Lex both rolled their eyes.

"Oh and another thing..."

Both males replied in chorus, "Don’t call you ‘Angie,’ we know."

***

Elisa Maza strode into the clan’s common room to find she’d walked into an important meeting instead. "What’s up guys?"

"It seems we have a new gargoyle in our midst," Goliath rumbled, wearing a thoughtful expression.

Her dark eyebrows raised. "Oh? Another one?"

"We think she’s possibly to Maya," Lex interrupted, hesitantly looking over at Goliath for permission to tell what they’ve deduced so far, and it wasn’t much. "She looks like her in a way. She could even be her little sister."

Hudson calmly added, "Aye, but the lass dinnae mention a sibling before."

"Well I see no problem in asking her for some answers—" the NYC detective suggested.

"—and that is precisely what we shall do, another time. I doubt everyone keeps our unusual hours," Goliath replied swiftly, engrossing himself in a copy of "Othello" once more.

The Trio, followed by an inquisitive Angela, adjourned their meeting to argue amongst themselves. Hudson and Elisa exchanged glances; the elder gargoyle silently knowing his presence was no longer welcomed. Young love, he thought to himself as Bronx followed him out of the room. A good walk about the castle walls would do him some good before sunrise.

***

A fairly normal day began. The hallways were quiet, the castle residence sleeping no doubt. Seeing no reason why pushing Mr. Xanatos’ hospitality any further, Anea was dressed and prepped for the pressures of a day at the office, after which she would go home to her own apartment. The dark-haired young woman approached her office and opened the door; with a flip of the light switch her made-up life was visible under fluorescent lighting, sitting there unchanged.

Fancy documents and a few connections had pulled this one without a hitch. The persona of Anea Yolen was the very paragon of a perfect Xanatos Enterprises employee, but the fey under that human façade was far from perfect. Anea sighed as she sat behind her desk and switched her computer on. Both were hers, but not hers, like this made-up life and everything that went with it.

***

Dominique Destine’s secretary said nothing as her employer walked past wearing an almost pleasant expression. She stared when the CEO of Nightstone Unlimited turned and smiled graciously, before entering her private office and closing the door.

The CEO in question picked up the phone on her desk from its cradle, dialing a private number. "Yes, this is Dominique Destine. Have your men been sent to the appointed spot for the statue? All right. Have it at the address I gave you earlier by dusk tonight. I hate to be bothered after dark," she said pointedly, setting the phone back in its cradle with a smooth smile touching her lips.

It pays to have a silent partnership with some of the more efficient organizations in the city. A few clueless humans, no matter what the circumstances, could take care of her more delicate deliveries no question.

Today was looking brighter than usual.

***

He walked into a stately two-story building, face sporting a friendly smile as he waved at the guard sitting behind the front desk and made his way up to his private laboratories. Pulling a few favors and even promising a few in return, this state-of-the-art facility was among the finest he’d worked in. Of course, Nightstone Unlimited did have its certain charms but the CEO was a pest at times.

The copper-haired man soon reached his desired destination and donned a pristine, white lab coat. Strolling by the many computers and lab equipment in the large room, the geneticist could not wait until his latest project yielded results. After all, he was not the sort of man who tolerated failure.

The certified doctor reached his personal desk in his office on the far side of the room, opposite the way he entered, and picked up the file folder he knew would be lying on the blotter. The manila folder’s tab neatly stated "Yolen, Anea L."

***

Perhaps Ms. Yolen would prefer to have someone that would listen to her. As the Puck, he’d learned that women throughout the ages preferred good listening skills in a prospective companion. Or should he perhaps offer advice on whatever troubled her? Drat, he was never much for understanding females on an intellectual level; at least not for more than a few minutes of passing conversation—

"Owen, care to drop out of orbit? Are you dictating my letter to the PIT?" an irritated David Xanatos inquired, an eyebrow raised at his assistant’s falter. Owen Burnett never faltered.

"Of course sir. Will that be Sincerely or Fondest Regards?" Owen supplied efficiently, pen poised just below the few paragraphs outlining the benefits and social gatherings that XanaCorp would sponsor in the name of the gargoyles. Good PR was something David Xanatos never lacked to accumulate.

Xanatos kept a careful eye on his majordomo. "Fondest Regards has a nice ring to it, oh, and please make sure it’s sent out ASAP. Also over-see the final testing for the infiltration units personally, I don’t want any malfunctions during an errand. Be sure to remember to book the catering for the Gargoyle’s Christmas party, even though they celebrate the Solstice I’d like them to be introduced to a few human customs." Owen diligently wrote down his employer’s wishes without looking up. "Oh and move back my meeting with Cyberbiotics to 4:30 pm, I’d like to take over the world before dinner."

It took a few seconds but the stoic, blond man suddenly stopped his writing and looked up at his employer, obviously doubting he heard correctly. "Sir?"

Xanatos gazed back indifferently, but after a moment replied. "You’ve been preoccupied recently. May I ask why?"

"I will make sure it will not happen again sir. I shall try—"

"—get her flowers Owen."

"—to keep my…" the majordomo trailed off, at a loss for words. His stoic façade never faltered but Owen still wondered how his employer had even guessed. Had he become that transparent? "Excuse me?"

The CEO of XanaCorp shrugged loosely as he came around to lean back on the edge of his desk while addressing his assistant. "Women always love flowers, and I doubt Ms. Yolen will be any different, even if the gesture is a bit cliché. I suggest a brief luncheon, nothing that would make you or her nervous."

It took Owen a moment but he finally could form words in his mind, the room suddenly stifling. "Will that be all sir?"

"Yes Owen. That’ll be all." Xanatos grinned wider than he had in years, as he watched his assistant turn and flee. This was definitely a change of pace. His stoic executive assistant actually was thinking about how to impress a girl. The idea alone was enough to fill his entertainment quota for the next decade, but thinking of actually seeing the event made him chuckle. Never a dull moment.

***

Jane yawned and stretched her arms to the darkening sky, a small roar escaping her in the process. At least she was lucky that none of those Quarrydorks found her during the day; not that they would’ve found her sleeping among all the gothic architecture of this old house. It looked like some kind of creepy mansion out of Edgar Allen Poe.

"I suppose yuir hungry now," said an accented voice from behind.

The gray female slowly turned to face a proud old man in tweed. "Hey Prof., thanks for lending me your roof and all but I’ll be going now." Jane turned towards the ledge and spread her wings but paused at his offer.

"I’m nae one of those bigots with hammers lass. I offer sanctuary and a hot meal, no strings," he said, expression serious. Jade considered this guy’s legitimacy. The city was overrun with those weirdos after all.

"If I smell a rat you’ll be taking a dip in the Hudson," she warned, turning to face him while cloaking her wings.

The man chuckled at the notion, gray eyes twinkling. "Aye lass, I ken I will. Call me MacDuff."

She regarded him with a slanted look of suspicion. "Well Tarzan, me Jane."

***

Ms. Yolen stretched languidly on her couch and stared up at her ceiling. All in all, it was good to be back in familiar territory. Her things unpacked and back where they belonged. She vaguely wondered who had packed and brought them to the castle in the first place. Oh and Christmas was only weeks away. She needed to send Nana a little something. Every light in the apartment switched on simultaneously making Anea jump up from the couch in alarm.

"Hey, over here." She turned to see a person, not much older than herself, coolly regarding her with an amused expression on his face stand a few feet behind her couch. With a his dark hair slicked back, black jacket and jeans he looked like a street punk, but when she met his eyes she frowned. "Don’t worry. I’m only the messenger. You’re Pyper right?" he inquired conversationally, picking up a knickknack from the long table set up against the back of the couch. He inspected it, then lost interest and set it back down, looking back up at her. "Don’t trip over yourself answering," he grinned.

Once over the initial shock of a stranger appearing in her apartment, "And just who are you?"

"A lot of people just call me Coyote, and do you expect to go meet Oberon like that?" He had the gull to let his eyes wander.

"I was actually planning to not go at all," she said stubbornly, self-consciously crossing her arms.

"Sorry, no can do. I’ll be the first to say you don’t want to go against someone like Oberon, him being Lord of the Third Race and all," Coyote commented off-handedly, picking up another glass bauble. "Go on and change into a pair of jeans or something. I’ll wait."

Anea sighed and knew there was no hope in avoiding what was coming. She only needed a moment for her shorts and shirt to shift into her traditional jeans and poet’s blouse. Coyote looked up at her for a moment and nodded for a smirk. "You know, I didn’t only mean what you were wearing." He muttered, "Gods know I’ll never understand females." Then asked, "Do you really think you’ll fool anyone with that human disguise?"

"Fine then," her human features shifted into her true self. "Is that better or do I have to jump through a few hoops too?"

"Nope, I’m sure Oberon will take care of that." The air seemingly rippled behind him and slowly dissolved into a portal of some sort. The constant motion of the magic inherent in it didn’t allow a clear view on what was beyond it. Coyote turned and strolled into the portal without a second thought, Anea, on the other hand, slowly approached the foreign portal to pause before it, uncertain. Coyote popped his head back through and grinned. "Coming?"

Pyper watched him disappear back into the rippling magic. She dubiously looked at the portal and tamped down the anxiety that its energies stirred in her stomach. The butterflies were a failsafe against strong magicks getting by her undetected, and strong magic always meant potential trouble. So she decided to jump in headfirst. It’s worked for me so far, she thought ruefully. Taking a calming breath, to control the anxiety build-up in her very being, Pyper quickly stepped through the rippling vortex. Her world blurred, then reshaped itself into something out a child’s fairy tale.

The half-ling hardly noticed the vortex fade out of existence behind her as she gazed upon the picturesque castle nestled between rolling, evergreen foothills of a type Utopian paradise. Banners flew from the structure’s highest towers, gargoyles took to the night skies, and creatures of make-believe casually conversed here and there. Fairy lights twinkled—

"Hey, done enjoying the view newbie?" Coyote leaned casually on the trunk of one of the nearby trees, half-smile playing about his lips. Pyper gave him a questioning look.

"Where are we?"

In a bluntness that Pyper had come to expect, he replied, "Avalon."

"You mean like in the legends of Arthur?"

"The very same, although the King’s not in at the moment." He straightened and sauntered over. "I know better than to keep Oberon waiting, you can sight-see later. C’mon." Coyote began walking towards a noticeably worn-in path that soon became a cobblestone walkway, which eventually led directly up to the castle’s open gates.

In her approach a few gargoyles peered curiously at Pyper from the battlements above the gate; among them a rich green male crowned with an unruly golden mane accompanied by a lighter green-toned female that possessed a plated crest reminiscent of a dinosaur. A Pegasus spared her a glance before returning to his chat with a bearded gnome. Through the gates was a well-manicured courtyard with everything ranging from topiary gardens to exotic flowerbeds. The variety of creatures and the very fact that she was on Avalon made Pyper wonder if this was anything but a waking dream.

"Coyote, who’s your lovely friend?" asked a smooth voice. Pyper paused and looked ahead to see someone who looked similar enough to her guide to be his cousin. His ears were not unlike her own and his clothing much like Puck’s but more muted in color. Pyper grew guarded at this person’s approach. He reeked of sly scheming and deception.

"No one you should know. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a Lord of the Third Race to visit." Coyote almost yanked her arm out of its socket when he began stalking away from Raven. The person being avoided wore a vague look of resentment, but his displeasure was quickly forgotten when a lovely wood nymph sauntered past him with an impish look in her eye.

"What was he about?"

Coyote didn’t both looking back. "That was Raven; mischief-maker and trickster extrodinaire."

"Like Puck?" Coyote glanced briefly at her then continued on his trek down a cavernous corridor, a grimace creasing his Native American features as if he didn’t know whether to smile or frown.

"Not even close. At least Puck has the good grace to have a conscience, even though he’ll never admit it."

Pyper had no time to ask any more questions because it appeared as if they had arrived at their destination. Her guide’s grip loosened slightly but his dark-skinned hand still encircled her wrist. Coyote moved to open the large, ordinate double-doors but paused briefly to utter a few words of advice to her.

"I feel like I’m leading a lamb to slaughter so I’ll give you a few tips. First and foremost, Oberon is as conceited & arrogant as they come. Don’t ruffle his royal feathers, and I remember a few things from my Challenge that you might find useful—"

"—Do not spoil the experience for our guest Coyote," said a smooth, controlled voice from behind both fey. Pyper and Coyote jerked and whirled in surprise, their conversation cut short.

"Uh, not at all Lord Oberon. I was just merely informing her on the proper etiquette in the presence of royalty, my lord," Coyote smoothly supplied the answer without a noticeable hitch, but this Lord Oberon seemed anything but interested.

"You may take your leave Coyote." If Pyper’s guide was offended he hid it behind a pleasant smile. Coyote began to walk away but winked back at her before disappearing in one quick whirl of wind.

Lord Oberon opened both double-doors with a mere gesture, revealing a cavernous great hall not unlike Wyvern’s. He might’ve been arrogant but he apparently had manners and gestured for her to enter first. Pyper quietly did so, and couldn’t help but feel trapped when she heard the heavy doors close seconds after she came in. She vaguely noticed that the hall was a throne room, richly decorated with Grecian columns and brightly colored tapestries.

Oberon approached her from behind and came to stand his full imposing height in front of her, wearing a scrutinizing glare. He was intimidating enough without the advantage of being able to look down his nose at her as well. By the gods, what was on his mind?

"You know of the Puck do you not?" She quickly nodded. He sighed tiredly, as if annoyed by just mentioning the name. "By betraying us—because of his loyalties to a mortal—he earned eternal banishment from Avalon’s fair shores, thus depriving us of one of our best servants." Oberon calmly strode to his throne and comfortably sat down.

His manners apparently have limits, she thought dryly. "In light of this predicament we have come to a… decision." His expression settled to an emotionless mask as his gaze turned deep and piercing. "You will be our chosen replacement for the traitor. We will formally recognize you as one of our Children, granting you asylum in our land." Pyper had a feeling all this wasn’t voluntary, but before she had the chance to protest he continued his decree. "To seal this bargain we would give you a gift," he said as a-matter-of-factly.

"And what would this gift be, Lord Oberon?" she inquired hesitantly.

The fey lord allowed himself a small, calculating smile accompanied by an airy look of indifference. "Giving you power equal to any of my other Children of course; which would make you a full-blood, instead of leaving you the halfling disgrace that you are."

Pyper bit her tongue from saying something equally insulting. She mentally reviewed her options, suspicious of this Lord Oberon’s ‘generosity.’ Even though she couldn’t see the strings, Pyper knew she was in danger of making a pact with Lucifer himself.

Oberon knew that in dealing with this wayward halfling he would have to employ whatever means necessary to win her over. After all, the chase was the adventure here and the result merely an amusing by-product. This child was clearly not of the ambitious sort, which called for a more subtle approach. "Before you voice your answer let us make our intentions clear. We were significantly impressed with your triumph over the Sisters Three, and would have one such as you apart of our court."

Pyper’s mind was reeling. "I-I… may I have a reasonable amount of time to consider your proposition Lord Oberon?" she asked carefully in a surprisingly strong voice, but when the fey lord agreed she had her doubts.

"You have until tonight to come by an answer, when we will gather our Children for a grand feast to welcome you into our fold." Oberon smoothly rose to his feet, bearing regal. "You will not be disappointed—"

"What of the Challenge?" Pyper blurted out before she could stop herself.

The fey lord allowed himself a small smile. "There was one, as far as others are concerned." Oberon sobered and continued to say, "You are dismissed," without any further bravado.

Unsure of whether she should bow or curtsy, Pyper decided to merely turn her back and leave through the doors that she’d entered the room through. Oberon smiled in a way that looked more predatory than anything else. Utilizing less effort than he expected, this pursuit would prove quite lucrative nonetheless. Not only will he gain a subject and a servant, he will also be greatly amused at the expense of the traitor.

***

Pyper aimlessly walked through the labyrinth of halls in the castle, earning a mixture of curious looks and harsh looks of contempt. Both were mostly from the many gargoyles roaming about on their nightly rounds. Before arriving at, what appeared to be the courtyard, the halfling momentarily paused to consider shifting into a gargoyle but then though the better of it. The bad feeling of being alienated might’ve been churning inside her, but it paled against the new problem that had presented itself by the name of Oberon. Her very way of life was in jeopardy. Whatever Oberon wanted, it didn’t consider her benefits—OOMF!

The halfling suddenly impacted with the stone corner of an archway just before reaching the courtyard. She fell back, winded and more in shock than anything else. "Stand aside Oberon spawn!" a male voice spat in disgust with such hatred in his voice that Pyper’s empathic open mind recoiled at the verbal assault. Before she could see whom her assailant was he was gone.

"Are you all right my lady?" asked a gentle voice to her right. Pyper jerked out of her shock to see a pair of gentle eyes in a familiar gargoyle face regarding her with concern. His taloned hands were warm on her shoulders. She suddenly flinched at the licks of pain lancing through her left arm from her shoulder. The male kneeled beside her, his gaze apologetic. "I am truly sorry for my brother’s rude behavior. He is one of the few of my clan that did not stand for Lord Oberon reclaiming his land."

She attempted to stand, with this gargoyle’s aide. "That’s quite all right, I—" Pyper groaned involuntarily when he attempted to help but only brought her more pain, earning a curious glance from her gargoyle assistant.

"Pardon my impertinence, my lady, but I have always believed that the fey healed themselves whenever they faced injury." Pyper tried to be curt but the sharp pain, which now was a dull ache, in her shoulder was beyond annoying.

"My name is Pyper and I’m not like other fey." She stubbornly shook his taloned hands off her shoulders and attempted to stand. Her legs, not to mention her bum, were quite offended from the impact with the ground. Pyper succeeded, rather shakily, but the gargoyle remained at her side. "Do you have a name?" she wondered aloud, vaguely remembering when Hudson mentioned that most gargoyles did not have names.

The gargoyle straightened a bit and inclined in a semi-formal bow. "My given name is Gabriel, my Lady Pyper. I am the Leader of the Avalon Clan." Pyper smiled but she knew it didn’t quite reach her eyes. A sudden look of concern overtook Gabriel’s features. "You are hurt—"

"No, no I’m fine, really—" He grabbed the shoulder she currently favored. "—OW!" Her mind clouded in a moment of pain. When it dulled she focused a stern glare on Gabriel.

"Pardon my actions again, my lady, but you seemed to have needed proof of your injury." Pyper tried to see if that was amusement glinting in his eyes behind that mask of indifference, but failed and decided to give in instead.

"I suppose so," she muttered, instinctively holding the offended shoulder with her other hand.

"Then I must insist that Princess Catherine tend to you. She has dealt with many a—" The green-hued female Pyper had seen accompanying Gabriel earlier swooped down and gracefully landed feet away.

"What is to matter with Hadrian. He seemed angrier than usual." Gabriel frowned at his rookery sister for her apparent lack of manners. She did a double-take at his companion. "Oh, pardon my rudeness mi’lady. I verily did not see you there." The female cloaked her wings and bowed her head respectfully.

"This is my rookery sister and second, Ophelia. Sister, meet Lady Pyper. Our rookery brother Hadrian threw another tantrum, and I’m afraid she was caught in the fray."

Ophelia looked apologetic but before she could utter a word Pyper interrupted. "Don’t worry about saying you’re sorry. I’m sure he didn’t really mean any harm—" Gabriel cut in with a sarcastic snort and crossed his arms.

"Hadrian meant no harm as much as Lord Oberon is the most self-less of souls on Avalon," Gabriel commented shortly, but Ophelia glared.

"Hold your tongue brother!" she hissed, momentarily glancing about in a cautious manner. She obviously didn’t want Oberon catching wind of people singing his ‘praises.’

"Maybe we should talk some place less public," Pyper suggested. Ophelia nodded sullenly.

"No matter where we go or what we do, Oberon can both see and hear us on a whim," the female nearly whispered.

"Princess Catherine would say that the both of you sound like fishwives with your gossip. I, for one, do not really care either way if Lord Oberon eavesdrops on our conversations. Whatever we do is our affair," Gabriel said in tone that reflected his certainty on the subject. Ophelia merely nodded to herself. Gabriel pointedly ignored her as his demeanor changed from defensive to caring as he addressed Pyper. "Come. Let us pay the Princess a visit so she may see to your injury Lady Pyper." He began walking while Ophelia and Pyper exchanged glances. The halfling merely shrugged, as much as she could anyway, and followed. Gabriel’s second merely fell into step beside her.

***

The phone was gently set back into its cradle, hanging up on the activated answering machine of Anea Yolen for the third time. Owen sat back in his office chair not knowing where else to reach her. She was absent from work that day; numerous calls from employees with computer troubles, relayed to one of Anea’s frazzled co-workers, had told him that. He picked up the phone again and dialed the Four Seasons matrie’d. Surely rescheduling dinner for another night wasn’t too much to ask. Owen glanced absently at the bouquet on his desk. It seemed they, as well as his plans, were going to waste.

***

Jane looked at the silver platter on the polished mahogany table with the utmost caution. The thing was piled high with delicious smelling food, but she was still more than a little suspicious of this guy’s intentions.

"Surely you must be hungry," he said as he entered the dining hall.

"No, not really," she replied, indifferent. Her stomach growled. Damn.

He laughed heartily. "I dinnae poison the fare, if that is what yuir frettin’ over lass."

"Okay." Jane settled down on the velvet-upholstered chair in front of the place where the platter was set. "But if it’s poisoned and I die? I’m coming back to haunt you." The old guy chuckled in a way that didn’t make him seem so old anymore.

MacBeth settled in a chair himself not far off from his guest, a book he was really reading set out in front of him. He discreetly noticed the gusto with which his guest enjoyed her meal, amused. Judging from the worn attire he’d noticed earlier, the girl had probably been on her own for quite some time. He didn’t pin her for more than 20 in human years, hardly an age for the lass to be without a clan. As much as he was against it, Goliath should be informed of her presence. In retrospect, a new gargoyle in Manhattan was more the Clan’s jurisdiction than his own. Until they extended their protection to her he’d provide for the little urchin. Aye, he’d offer his protection for as long as it was welcomed.

***

Angela gently eased the library door open and walked in to find her father immersed in a thick, leatherbound copy of something entitled "Dante’s Inferno." She bit back a small smile. Goliath was not Goliath without his books.

"Father?" she spoke quietly, as to not startle him. The clan leader looked up, marking his place, and closing the book.

"Yes Angela?"

"I went to visit Maya tonight, but she was not at home. I knew she was still recovering from the battle with the Weird Sisters, and thought to keep her company." Goliath’s brows furrowed but he said nothing. "I came back to ask Owen if he knew where I could reach her, when he said he couldn’t help he looked… put-out."

Goliath took all this is for a moment before replying. "Owen should know her whereabouts more than anyone," he paused, thinking for a moment. "But, if he does not…" he trailed off.

"Do you suppose he wasn’t telling the truth?" Angela inquired curiously. She knew her friend was close to Xanatos’ assistant, but wouldn’t she have told him where she would be going?

"The lavender gargoyle nodded. "Owen does not have a reason to lie to us about Maya. Did he mention anything else?"

"No, not really." Angela paused for a moment, trying to remember the conversation in more detail. "But I believe he said something about her being absent from her position here in the building earlier today."

"Then she has been missing for more than 24 hrs—"

"Goliath." Both gargoyles immediately turned, ceasing all talk of the issue to see Owen enter the library carrying a sealed envelope. "This just arrived via private carrier and left at the front desk for you," he said, handing it to a very perplexed Goliath. "As a precaution I’ve had it checked for anything harmful, and the results were negative. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other things to attend." The unflappable personal assistant nodded once respectably and left as quickly as he came.

Previous subject forgotten, Goliath turned his attentions to opening the envelope in his hand. Who, by the Dragon, could have sent him correspondence? He slipped a thin piece of paper out of the envelope and quickly recognized the language it was written in. The leader quickly skimmed down, suspecting Demona of being the addresser but then he found that was not the case. He schooled his expression carefully, and slipped the note back into its envelope.

Angela gave him a quizzical look. "Is something wrong father?"

"Not at all Angela," he smoothly brushed off. "I will not be available for the next few hours. Make sure Broadway takes up his responsibilities as second until I return," he commanded curtly, walking off without another word.

Goliath’s daughter looked after him, brows furrowed in confusion. Who could have sent Goliath a message? What had it said?

***

Pyper flinched and clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. Princess Catherine efficiently dressed the halfling’s wound with what means were available, mainly some smelly paste Pyper wrinkled her nose at and some ‘stiff cloths,’ the Princess had called them. By the time Catherine was done, Pyper’s shoulder was numb with pain preventing her arm from being of much use.

"Aye Lady Pyper, I know it pains your very soul to do so, but ye must move the arm else it will not mend properly," the Princess confided while putting the excess bandages and salve away. "Again I apologize for Hadrian. He has always been a strong lad, even as a hatchling, but my dear Hadrian has always had a tendency to pick on those smaller than he," Catherine explained, busying herself with folding bandages and putting them in their proper place. She sighed forlornly. "His disfavor for the fey doesnae help matters either." Catherine’s eyes fell upon her patient’s odd under garments as the lass slipped on her tunic. Had the world changed so much since she had last lived within its boundaries? "So," she began, catching the halfling’s attention. "Ye are from England Lady Pyper?"

"Originally yes, southern England to be exact," Pyper replied amiably with a smile, fastening the last few buttons in her blouse.

"Och, ‘tis been many years since I last read of the place. Lady Elisa mentioned something of gargoyles in Londontown," Catherine commented.

The halfling smiled tiredly. "Elisa does have a bit of a history with gargoyles doesn’t she?"

The Princess grinned, years seemingly lifted from the simple expression. "Aye, that she does. Ye know her then." Pyper nodded. "I suspected as much. The lass has been ta more places than I could ever hope to dream about."

"Ah yes, the infamous Avalon Tour. She has been quite busy hasn’t she? Angela had told me so much about their adventures I was beginning to get jealous."

"Ye really know my wee egg? Then my Angela is fairing well?" Catherine asked, her face lighting up with hope. "Do tell me how she is in the modern world," the Princess practically hummed with nervous energy at the mere mention of news on her ‘wee egg.’ "Is she comfortable? Has she—?"

Pyper attempted to fend off the onslaught of questions. "Whoa, whoa, just a moment. One question at a time Princess." Catherine’s enthusiasm surprised a laugh out of her. Suddenly the Princess’ expression dimmed, her happy face creased with a worried frown.

"She hasnae forgotten about me? About her kin here on Avalon--?"

"No, no! Never that! I think the world would come to an end first," Pyper exclaimed with a wry grin. "Angela is just fine. There’s nothing to worry—" The halfling’s expression went blank. Much like a deer’s when in the sights of a hunter in the glen, Catherine vaguely thought as she too paused with suspicions of her own.

"What is amiss Lady Pyp--?"

A familiar green doorway opened in the middle of the room, Lord Oberon smiling slyly from his vantage-point on the other side. He extended a well-manicured hand towards the portal, causing it to come straight through. His voice flowed like warm honey. "’Tis time to Gather with the rest of your kind my dear."

Pyper remained seated on the makeshift cot, seemingly frozen, as her eyes remained fastened on what awaited her beyond the portal’s magical frame. Catherine leaned slightly towards her, whispering a few words of wisdom. "Dinnae show them yuir frightened Lady Pyper, if ye manage that then ye’ll have the advantage." The Princess’ hands enveloped one of Pyper’s, warm against the halfling’s suddenly cold skin. "Besides, ye still have to inform me of my sweet Angela."

That seemed to break through the barrier of shock and dismay that immediately went up upon seeing Oberon. Pyper managed to stand up from the cot without looking as shaken up as she felt. She looked to Catherine a final time, receiving a reassuring smile in return, before walking towards the portal. Hesitantly, the halfling slipped her shaky hand into the fey lord’s and it closed around her own. Somehow a feeling a trepidation formed in the pit of Pyper’s stomach. She took a calming breath and stepped through, the infirmary and Catherine blurring as soon as she entered Oberon’s domain.

***

"Hey Brookie! Have you heard the one about the gargoyles and the lightbulb? Or do ya know why the gargoyle crossed the road?" Fang snickered, apparently finding himself funny.

Brooklyn merely ignored, used to this kind of harassment for some time now. The red gargoyle shuffled his deck of cards again, which Talon was decent enough to let him borrow. Solitaire was already getting old, and he was nearly considering playing a game of poker with Fang. Never put limitations on what a gargoyle would do when bored to tears, Brooklyn thought sourly. He should be out patrolling, but instead he was stuck on Fang duty. The red gargoyle grimaced. The Labyrinth Clan was beginning to work closely with the Wyvern Clan as a defense against the sudden rise in Quarrymen activity. I should be out there, and I’m going whether Goliath likes it or not, Brooklyn vowed vehemently to himself.

"Hey! Beak-face! Feeling inadequate? Feeling left behind? Well call 1-800-URA-Loser!" Then Fang burst into laughter, wiping away a non-existent tear. Brooklyn’s eyes flashed, but he willed himself to ignore the obvious jab.

"Yo, red riding hood! Knock, knock..."

Brooklyn groaned.

***

Goliath swooped down from the evening sky onto MacBeth’s courtyard. Cloaking his wings, he cautiously looked about and vaguely noticed that the old Scotsman had restored his estate almost as it was before.

"Goliath," called a familiar voice from nearby. The gargoyle leader looked about and spotted MacBeth approaching, resembling the history professor he currently was. "Glad ye could make it. Yuir alone?"

The gargoyles leader nodded. "I thought it best to exclude the clan on this matter. They tend to lose sight of the clan’s well-being at the prospect of a new gargoyle."

"Especially the lads, I’d wager," the Scot murmured. Goliath frowned at the thought. "This way Goliath," the immortal motioned to a nearby passageway, "and be forewarned; the lass is rather strong-willed and set in her ways."

"From what you described in your letter, I thought as much," the lavender gargoyle replied, a frown creasing his features as he followed MacBeth through the estate’s corridors. The Scottish immortal paused just outside a pair of yawning double doors, and turned towards Goliath.

"She was taking in a meal earlier, so the lass should be calm enough." He smiled grimly. "She accused me of poisoning her fare."

Goliath found himself biting back a small smile. "She does not sound quick to trust strangers."

"Nor should she be. Life on the streets is as harsh now as it ever was, and that little urchin knows the rules of that life."

"So it would seem," Goliath frowned. It was unheard of for a female her age to wander about unprotected, and it would be callous of him not to offer the clan’s protection, but doubts still circled in his mind.

"Remember," MacBeth commented, "the girl isnae used to generosity without strings. ‘Tis only natural that she bites the hand that feeds her." The old man paused again before entering the dining hall. "At first," he added with a quick grin, then walking into the hall.

"Cantankerous old man," Goliath mused as he waited outside and out of sight. His ears perked when he heard a shrill disagreeing tone echo inside the dining hall.

Goliath strode into the room so suddenly that both combatants turned to glare. "Sevarious? Anton Sevarious?" The female got a certain gleam in her eye.

"Who the hell do you think you are to think you can help me?" she accused vehemently.

"I have not claimed anything of the sort as of yet. All I was prepared to offer was sanctuary and my clan’s protection." Goliath frowned. "But now that we know Sevarious is involved this has become a much bigger issue."

"So you’ve met the bastard." It was more of a statement than a question, accompanied by a hateful growl.

"More times than I would care to count, yes." Goliath thought of a good plan of approach. "It would be best if you would start at the beginning. There maybe something in your tale that may aid us in finding and capturing Sevarious."

His proposition was met with a thunderous frown. "What makes you think I want anything to do with you?"

"Venturing into something like this alone can be dangerous, and I only mean to help your cause. Surely you see the logic in this," Goliath countered evenly.

The young female seemed to be thinking over her decision. After a lengthy pause, she answered a curt, "No way," and strode past a very shocked Goliath. MacBeth intervened.

"Janey-girl, have you lost all sense of reason?"

The girl paused at the door and sharply turned around. "Believe me, I have had enough help to last me a lifetime. I refuse to be another notch on you guys’ Good Samaritan Belt. Don’t take this the wrong way, but please take your offer and shove it." The gargress stalked out leaving two very shocked good guys in her wake.

***

"Oh, Ms. Destine! I wasn’t aware—"

Dominique merely passed by. "Can I not walk into my own office without facing interrogation?" she said sternly as she walked by towards her office.

"Yes, of course Ms. Destine—"

"That’ll be all," Dominique said irritably as she slammed her office door. She had better things to do than to skewer her secretary. The fierce redhead genuinely grinned for the first time in years. Goliath would never see her attack until it was too late. She had been wrong to be so flagrant with her plans before, and as results had lost victory to that sentimental fool. Subtlety was never her strong point, but with full control as the spoils to this war, Demona was willing to vary her tactics.

Brooklyn went rogue and would soon be in a position for a change in his loyalties, and Goliath was left in the dust for once. Fully turning Goliath’s second will probably never really be achievable, but the Manhattan Clan was one gargoyle weaker. A rogue is always something to celebrate, the CEO smiled to herself as she looked over the day’s itinerary. Everything was indeed looking up.

Unfortunately, the unsuspecting CEO didn’t think to look up herself or she would have seen a shimmer in the ceiling’s façade. Robotic eyes zoomed in on the itinerary and saved the information on its XE-manufactured hard drive. It would later climb down from its perch, after Dominique Destine went home for the evening, and walk out cloaked as one of the Nightstone night-security team and no one would be the wiser.

***

David Xanatos regarded the large screen in his office thoughtfully. His upgraded infiltration unit had finally turned up something of interest.

Fox, perched on the edge of her husband’s desk, grinned to herself. "I’d forgotten how excitingly fruitful industrial espionage could be." She glanced at David, "To think, Demona actually keeps a ‘to do’ list, relating to everything from corporate mergers to personal endeavors, in her desk! This is too easy."

"Please try not to say that, dear. Things tend to go awry after someone says that." Xanatos steepled his hands together under his chin as he turned in his chair. "Maybe it’s an old Chinese curse."

"David," Fox began warily, "What are you planning?"

The ex-con gave his wife one of his sly grins. "Nothing but what’s best for this family, Fox." The smile disappeared and the billionaire’s brow furrowed. "We obviously can’t go to Goliath about this. He lacks a certain… finesse when dealing with the likes of Demona."

"Then what do you propose we do? We certainly can’t have someone like Brooklyn out rampaging through most of Manhattan. It’s enough that he’s gone AWOL, but if Demona manages to turn him, then the Quarrymen will think it’s a gargoyle free-for-all."

"True," Xanatos agreed, though still trying to divine someway of avoiding a confrontation with Demona. He was almost certain that something like that would end in tragedy; his or the gargoyles’, it was one in the same. "Maybe it’s high time we enlist a new player in the game."

Fox regarded her husband with renewed interest. His returning look said volumes. She began to smile. "Do you think she might be willing to risk herself on something like this, David?"

"I believe so, Fox. She regards the gargoyles as a sort of extended family, and I myself would go to great lengths to protect my own family. Though, I’m not so certain we may be able to reach her. She’s been making herself somewhat scarce lately."

"Really? Well, I’m sure Owen might be able to rouse her, with a little help from his alter ego."

"Perhaps, or maybe he can tutor Alexander on the wonders of undoing human magicks."

Fox’s expression grew thunderous. "David, you know how I don’t like—"

"Everything will be under control, my dear, and with someone of Puck’s caliber waiting in the wings there’s virtually no need to worry," David Xanatos said coolly, wearing the smile of a man that had everything under his power—or thought he did. "In the mean time, the infiltration unit will keep eavesdropping on Demona for any new information that might help us stop whatever else she’s planning."

Fox seemed mollified by her husband’s reassurances, but her worries remained. Whenever anything involved her son she immediately went on-guard, since sometimes situations sort of… blew up.

***

Lutes, flutes, and all sorts of old-fashioned musical instruments were played, filling the air with heavenly music. Gnomes, goblins and dwarves spoke of their misadventures over mugs and pitchers of mead. Anasi spoke with his cousin Odin, an odd pairing to say the least. The Honor Guard of Avalon mingled in with the Children here and there.

Lord Oberon could not have been more pleased. The Ruler of Avalon sipped sweet faerie wine out of a golden goblet forged by Hephaestus himself, keeping his expression of aristocratic boredom firmly in place. In truth, the Lord of the Third Race was riveted by the possibilities that would come with what was soon going to unfold. He regarded the newest attendee of the Gathering with a steady gaze. The youngling in question was conversing with the gargoyle clan’s leader, Gabriel, and his second, the archer Ophelia. Ah, what one does for amusement, the fey lord mused as he sipped more of his favorite wine.

Pyper dutifully listened to Gabriel’s misadventures with his rookery brothers and sisters in the merry din of the party, with Ophelia on her opposite side attesting to most of the tales and arguing the validity of the rest. The halfing nearly forgot why she was there in the first place. Nearly.

She tried to discreetly watch Lord Oberon through the corner of her eye, but he remained seated, his unsettlingly knowing gaze finding her as its principle subject. Pyper tried not to shudder. She dearly hoped he didn’t have the ability to read minds, and if he did, that he’d have the good manners not to use it. Bloody likely, she thought sarcastically.

"—brother, were you not the one who filched sweetmeats from the Princess’ trencher, not Jacob?" Ophelia inquired, half a brow-ridge raised in question. Gabriel seemed to squirm under her exacting gaze and immediately looked to Pyper, whom wasn’t really listening.

Gabriel frowned. "Lady Pyper, will you not defend my case? Good lady, I am in dire need of saving…" he laid a taloned hand on her forearm making her jump in alarm. Gabriel’s tankard of ale spilled very nearly onto his lap.

"Oh, I’m terribly sorry Gabriel!" she apologized, reaching for something to clean up the mess with but stopped short when an irritated looking faerie with blush-pink wings, no bigger than a dragon fly, flitted by clucking her tongue as the mess disappeared with her passing. Pyper would have gaped at the phenomena further if Gabriel hadn’t called her attention again.

"Is something amiss Lady Pyper?" the male gargoyle asked, then catching sight of who Pyper eyed warily every other moment. Gabriel casually commented, "Do not let Lord Oberon worry you overmuch. He is mostly all bark and no bite."

Ophelia frowned deeply. "Brother, you dare such declarations every eve, yet to do so in the lord’s presence? Are you daft?" she hissed.

Gabriel gave his rookery sister a scathing look. "As if Lord Oberon would be petty enough to anger himself over mere words, sister."

"Mayhap words can be sharper than any blade, brother—"

"Our Children and Honor Guard, your attention if you will," the Lord of the Third Race’s voice boomed, and everyone ceased their chattering and merriment. Both gargoyles halted their arguments and immediately looked towards Avalon’s ruler. Pyper warily looked to Oberon as well, knowing what was to come.

"We have decided, after much deliberation, to welcome a new Child to the Third Race, and consequentially, the Gathering," announced Oberon in his lordly tone as he pointedly looked over to the place at his table where Pyper sat. All, gargoyle and fey alike, followed their lord’s gaze to a fair fey maid seated between two gargoyles.

Pyper’s mouth went dry. The fey in question stood as smoothly as she could without betraying the tempest of thoughts and feelings inside her. Pyper kept her eyes focused on Oberon, who looked like he wanted to smile rather smugly, as she made her way past a sea of surprised, disapproving, and perplexed faces. Oberon motioned for Pyper to follow as he made his way up to a dais, where twin thrones stood. Whispering and murmuring began in her wake.

Would they accept me? Pyper thought worriedly. She immediately caught site of Oberon’s queen, Titana, as Oberon himself took his place beside her on the dais. The queen’s gaze was indecipherable. The attention on the whole ordeal was almost palpable, but Pyper tried not to feel so stifled in the large hall.

"This, our Children, is the Child that will be taking the Puck’s place at our side." That declaration started a boom of questions, concerns, and slurs from the fey crowd, but a gesture from Oberon silenced them all. "We trust that our decision will not be challenged." At that no one said a word. "Very well then." To Pyper, "Your station will be of great import to us when the time comes. We will require your utmost respect, loyalty, and unfailing service; will you give it?" The question hung in the air as the ball was in Pyper’s court.

Pyper hazard a small glance at all of the Children. She returned her gaze to Oberon, and proudly raised her chin as she willed herself to calmly reply, "I will, Lord Oberon."

"You will what, my Pyper?" he inquired softly, a half smile threatening to spread to a full grin.

She wanted to thrash him. "I will give my utmost respect, loyalty, and unfailing service to you, Lord Oberon." Pyper tried to sound bored, but the nervousness she felt crept into her voice.

The fey lord looked appeased and said for all to hear, "Very well then. The duties have been stated, the oath given and accepted." The fey king regally approached Pyper and extended a hand, which Pyper took. A sudden, muted emerald light overtook the halfling making her gasp half in surprise and half in fear. Pyper closed her eyes as every fiber of her being was being changed; she could feel it in her very soul! The sensations that coursed through her were nearly overwhelming, and fascinating at the same time. The fey halfling felt all her senses heighten, enabling her to feel everyone’s thoughts and feelings in the whole hall, and very nearly all of Avalon!

The light soon died down and was no more. Elating mixed feelings of euphoria and fear filled Pyper as she opened her eyes. Oberon surveyed his work with a steady, unreadable gaze and nodded as if judging the act a job well done. He turned and took his place with his queen on the dais.

"We know that our Children will be every bit their gracious and welcoming selves. Any who show animosity or ill-will towards our Pyper shall answer to us." He paused, for dramatic effect Pyper mused, and then said in a tone that boomed throughout the hall, "So is the will of Oberon."

Few moments passed before the music started up again, and the party continued as if it was never halted. Pyper looked to her hands, finding them the same as before, but she knew there was a difference. She was now one of them, apart of a race bound by magic and hidden agendas. The fey found herself wondering if her life would continue on as easily as the party.

"So, cousin. You saw fit not to tell me about the new trickster in our ranks," Raven commented off-handedly as he enjoyed his honeyed mead.

Coyote’s human visage merely shrugged. "Didn’t know in the first place." He kept a discreet eye on Pyper as she consorted with two gargoyles nearby. "Though, our new cousin must’ve really impressed Oberon to be named Puck’s replacement."

"Hm." Raven looked thoughtful. "Do you think she has what it takes to pull it off, cousin?"

"We’ll see soon enough," Coyote replied. We’ll see.

Pyper bid her farewells to the Princess and the Guardian. She’d hold the memory of those two people that took her into their hearts without question close to her heart. It was hours till sunrise. The gargoyles took their places on the castle parapets, and the fey had retreated to their own devices for they were nowhere to be seen.

Gabriel and Ophelia suddenly landed feet away from Pyper, Princess Catherine, and the Guardian. Gabriel was the first to come forward and embrace now-full-fey without hesitation, his wings encompassing them both. He then pulled back with a sad smile. "Why do you leave your people, my lady? Your clan?"

The fey suddenly found that words and reasoning left her. She returned his smile with one of her own. "Thank you for taking me into your home, even it was for such a short while. You’ve been so kind to me, all of you have, but I have a life and job to get back to. I can’t just abandon those things for an island paradise that easily, Gabriel." She stepped away from the forest green gargoyle and turned to Ophelia. The gargress took Pyper by surprise when she clasped the smaller fey’s forearm in a warrior’s farewell.

"T’was indeed a pleasure, mi’lady. Safe journey," Ophelia bid.

Pyper merely smiled and nodded. Coyote faded into existence some feet away and strolled towards the newly-made-fey wearing his usual human guise. "Come on, before you decide to stay," he said with a grin. The fey woman smiled and joined him as he stepped forward through a portal much like the one that brought her to Avalon.

The portal disappeared, leaving two gargoyles and two saddened humans in its wake. Hardly no visitors frequented Avalon’s shores, but when they did they did not choose to stay long.

"So, cousin, how does it feel?" Coyote inquired as he stood inches from the portal that would take him back home.

Pyper looked about her darkened apartment, and saw the familiar Manhattan skyline under a starry night sky. She looked back at Coyote; the unfamiliarity of someone calling her ‘cousin’ called her attention. "If you’re referring to the experience of being one of you, then… the jury’s still out on that one."

The trickster grinned. "You’ll get used to it." But suddenly the merriment on Coyote’s features disappeared, leaving a look of forewarning that made Pyper uneasy. "You’re Oberon’s new Puck, or should I say, his new Pyper."

"I know," she replied, accepting the fact for what it was.

"He’ll expect things from you—fetch and carry mostly. You know, little odd jobs here and there. It’s a cushy job when you think about it, and he’s even letting you stay here in the real world, which is a big plus—"

"Bad news Coyote?" Pyper asked sullenly, not wanting to know.

The trickster smiled easily. He could get to like the new addition to the fey family. There wasn’t a conniving bone in her body. "Call me cousin, Pyper," he said easily. Then, "As for bad news, ‘fraid there is one thing… you’re bound Pyper, bound for eternity." Pyper blanched slightly at his tone, but he continued. "Lord Oberon is your lord as well as mine. You disobey him and—well, let’s just say it’s not going to be pretty. I don’t mean to scare you because I like you, I really do, but this is something you have to take seriously."

"I will," she replied solemnly. They stood there for a moment, saying nothing.

"Well, I guess I should be heading back before Big Blue decides to check up on me," Coyote said, grinning as he turned towards the portal behind him.

"Cousin!" Pyper suddenly exclaimed, and Coyote turned to be awkwardly pulled into a hug. Pyper pulled back with a grin of her own. "You’ll check in from time to time, won’t you?"

Coyote chuckled. "No prob, cousin. I’d be glad to. Take care of Puck, won’t you? Don’t let him get too dull."

Pyper brightly grinned back. "I will. See you when I see you."

"Yup," he replied, pulling back. "Later."

Pyper watched the portal fade away along with her grin. She was back in the real world again, and there was work to get back to that morning. The fey sighed tiredly, but then perked up some. After all, she’d get to see Owen again.

***

***

Anea Yolen woke up in a cold sweat. She jerked her arms up for close inspection. No golden braces like Puck’s, or shackles. She sighed tiredly, and rubbed the back of her neck. The young woman soon noticed the phone was ringing off the hook. Maybe that was what had prompted that nightmare.

She picked up. "Hello?" Anea managed. Pulling all-nighters was definitely not her thing.

"Ms. Yolen? It’s Owen Burnett, speaking. I’m surprised to finally be able to reach you after all this time."

Those words hit Anea like a brick wall. Her stomach immediately felt like it’d been dropped from a hundred feet in the air and falling. "What exactly do you mean, Mr. Burnett?"

Owen’s voice grew tinged with annoyance. "Ms. Yolen, you have been absent from work for over two weeks without as much as a phone call to state your whereabouts."

Her stomach hit rock bottom. "Tw-two weeks?" Anea croaked, eyes growing as wide as saucers and her jaw hit the ground.

Owen’s tone went back to its usual monotone, but seemed somewhat guarded. "Perhaps you should come in to see me first thing, Ms. Yolen, and I hope you are prepared to explain to me personally as to your whereabouts for the last two weeks. I suggest you be on your way. It is already 10:34. Good day, Ms. Yolen."

Anea held the phone for a second and then numbly managed to slip it back onto it’s cradle on the nightstand. "Two weeks?" she said to herself as she slowly got out of bed. "Two bloody weeks," she groaned as she fell back into bed with another groan for good measure. No had saw fit to tell her about a bloody damned time difference between World Time and Avalon Time. Well that’s bleedin’ rich!

***

Owen Burnett dropped the pen he was writing with when the small hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It was a fey presence, and from what he could tell it had already entered the building. His damnable human form had put limitations on his fey senses, but to the extent of letting a fey presence go unnoticed this long?

The intercom crackled. "Mr. Burnett, Ms. Yolen is here to see you. Are you ready to receive her?"

It took him a moment, but he answered in the affirmative and stood behind his desk. He stood motionless as Anea entered his office, and closed the door behind her. She smiled a little, no doubt clueless of what she was about to face.

Owen stood his ground, unable to do anything but stare. The very magick of Avalon was all about her. He finally spoke, "Ms. Yolen."

"Mr. Burnett," she replied quickly. Owen could nearly sense her apprehension. "I know what you may be thinking, but there is a perfectly good explanation for all this, I assure you."

"Then please," he gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Do enlighten me." She sat but he remained standing.

"Well, the truth of the matter is… the truth of the matter is that I—that I lost track of time," she finished, albeit lamely. Owen fought the urge to cross his arms and roll his eyes. "Really!" she said with urgency borne of nervousness, but took a breath and regained her composure before continuing. "I did truly lose track of the time. No one saw fit to—!" but she stopped cold.

"To what Ms. Yolen?" Owen prompted gently after a minute or two. Anea seemed to have swallowed her tongue, and her gaze dropped to the ground. She knew there was no explanation possible for the truth of the matter. "No one saw fit to… mention the effect of Avalon’s magick?" he said softly, and Anea’s head jerked up as she took on a look of complete surprise. Owen faintly smiled somewhat. "Avalon’s magicks leave a certain… residue, if you may. Especially if someone were to be there as long as you have."

"Owen, I never meant to try to lie to you…" she began glumly but he gestured for her to be silent.

"No need for apologies. I know you would have told me sooner or later. There was no way of avoiding the truth." He sighed and turned to the windows set high above the bookcase behind his desk. The sky was clear, and the sun was shining—as much as it would be in Avalon. Owen felt a gentle touch at his shoulder and closed his eyes for a moment to revel in the comfort it had to offer. A moment later he looked to his left at a concerned Anea. The majordomo returned his gaze to the bright blue sky outside his window as Ms. Yolen took back her hand, clearly unsure of what to do.

"How was it?" he asked, his tone barely audible.

"How was what?" Anea replied, expression curious.

He smiled sadly. "Avalon."

***

Brooklyn glided down to the place he’d been calling home for the past couple of weeks. The Cloisters had become somewhere he could stop by to gather his thoughts over the years; a place of refuge from Goliath any anyone or anything else that threatened his peace of mind.

The beaked gargoyle made his way inside to the room where Goliath had tried to capture him while under Demona’s control. He had cleaned most of the shattered glass and moved tapestries to cover the drafts that came through the broken windows. Scavenging through the place, Brooklyn had found a small table with a few chairs and set them up in that room.

He now sat down at the table, dumping a few loaves of bread, rolls of salami, and gallon of milk onto it. It didn’t matter how he got food anymore. As long as no one gets hurt, it isn’t wrong, the brick-red gargoyle thought as he dug in. A bitterness settled over his heart.

Goliath had obviously given up on his second-in-command’s redemption, Brooklyn sure as hell wasn’t going back himself. Big and brooding could go screw himself. Brooklyn knew he didn’t need anyone hassling him for anything. Demona had been right about something.

Goliath was a fool.

***

Author’s note: I honestly don’t know when the next installment will be written, but hopefully soon enough. I guarantee there will be a next one. =) -- Gargress

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