With that knowledge kept close to my chest, I felt a tiny bit of hope.
"All right," I said. "I'll speak to her tonight."
Pascal nodded, his eye shining with determination. "Good luck. Come find me after. We can talk, okay?"
Despite everything, I smiled. "Okay. Thanks, Pascal."
He drew me into a hug, careful of my aching joints and sore muscles. "I've got your back, Florian. We'll deal with this. Don't worry."
I closed my eyes and let myself relax against my friend. I believed him.
No matter what Headmaster said, everything would be okay in the end.
3
Devereaux
I opened my eyes.And blinked.
It was evening, and I had changed into my human form.
I stood up slowly, feeling the weight of the black cloak I wore shift across my skin. My breath escaped my lips in a small puff of fog. The night air was cool and crisp, and despite the cloak, it sent goosebumps breaking out along my arms.
This was the only time I couldfeel.When I was human. When, for whatever reason, the curse broke temporarily with the nightly rhythm.
I glanced up at the wall where I should have been. The gargoyle version of myself was gone. The space where I stood in stone only a few hours ago was empty.
It did not escape my notice that the other gargoyles remained where they were, none of them transformed into men like I did. A pang of loneliness struck me. Even now, free of my stone shackles, I was alone.
To distance myself from my thoughts, I roamed the property. I knew it like the back of my hand. Every crack in the cobblestone, every moth-riddled lamp post, every mouse hole... At night, the property felt like my domain. It was a private, almost childish fantasy I nursed. Of course, the property did not belong to me. I was only a gargoyle on the wall, a man on its streets. I owned nothing except the clothes on my back, and to tell the truth, I do not know from where they came.
Aside from the cloak and the simple clothes beneath it, I wore an additional piece of fabric—a wide black strip across my eyes. My vision was not impeded in any way by its presence, so I did not know its purpose. Perhaps it was a fashion statement. (By whom? I had not a clue.) In any case, I never felt obligated to remove it since my vision was not hindered. I left it alone.
The echo of my footsteps across the stones was the only sound accompanying me. The castle grounds were quiet at night except for chirping crickets, rustling leaves, and hooting owls in the distance. Most of the bustling city noise was muffled by the forest around the castle.
It was rare I ran into anybody on my nightly walks. A handful of times I'd seen groundskeepers puttering around, but they paid me no mind. I might have wondered if I was invisible had they not looked directly at me. But we never exchanged words.
The moon hung pale and clear overhead. I stared up at it, face-to-face. It was the closest thing I had to a companion on these lonely nights.
"Who am I?" I asked the moon.
The moon did not respond.
My voice was cracked and weathered from disuse. With no one to speak to, I found no reason to use it except for when I spoke to myself out loud. I had to—otherwise I would forget it was there.
Footsteps pounded against the cobblestone.
I straightened to attention. The sound was so jarring and unusual that it startled me. Who was here on the grounds at this hour? Certainly not a groundskeeper—the footsteps were secretive and clumsy, not striding with the confident purpose of a hired hand. And there was not one pair, but two.
I looked around. Nobody was on the grounds except me.
That was what I thought until two figures sneaked out of the forest and crept towards the castle, breathless and giggling to each other.
I stood there frozen in surprise. I recognized the interlopers. It was the couple from earlier.
That was odd. Why had they returned? And how did they get inside? The castle grounds were closed to the public come nightfall. I even heard the creak of the heavy iron gate shut for the evening. I wondered if they had scaled the gate somehow, but for what reason?
Curious, I continued to watch them. I stood in the shadow of the castle, the stone awning shielding me from the moonlight. They moved close to the ground, like hungry dogs slinking into an unsupervised kitchen, laughing in hushed tones and whispering loudly to each other.
