“Have you had it long?”
“I—had what?”
“The shift animal.”
“No,” Luke said. He was starting to calm down, feeling less out of control. “Inga was very surprised when she found out I’d just, uh, just gotten it. You don’t seem to be.”
“I have learned in my life that there are many extraordinary things most shifters aren’t aware of. I personally know a shifter who acquired his shifting late in life, and another whose shift animal changed its type entirely. So your sort of situation is not unknown to me. Stop for a moment, please.”
The wall in this part of the hall was evidently made of carved stone, or plaster molded to look like stone. Mace placed a hand on the wall, not visibly different from any other part of it, and something—changed. The carving receded beneath his hand, and abruptly the outlines of a door sprang into visibility. Mace swung it open and went in, with an indication to the other two that they were to follow. Luke went through first, placing himself subtly between Mace and Inga.
Inside was a room that combined the ordinary homely comforts of a study (comfortable chairs, a fireplace, bookshelves) with some of the trappings of what Luke could only consider the lair of an alchemist or a wizard. The shelves that did not contain books held other, more arcane items: mortars and pestles, stoppered jars with mysterious ingredients, curious objects of all types. Inga was looking at some form of stuffed creature that Luke couldn’t identify; it seemed to havelizard qualities but also two sets of wings. It was dusty and badly mounted, and if he’d seen it in a roadside attraction, he would immediately have assumed it was several animals grafted together.
“A badly done fake,” Mace said, seeing her looking at it. “But it’s an interesting curiosity. I like those too.”
“What do you do here?” Inga asked, venturing deeper into the study, lab, or whatever it was.
“Magic,” Mace said, seeming perfectly serious. “You may feel honored to be here. Only Thea and my immediate family have ever been in here before. Please, sit down.”
Cautiously, they took seats in two of the overstuffed chairs before the cold fireplace. The room was illuminated with tall, narrow windows that gave the impression of a castle wall. They were too high for Luke to see out, but morning sunshine streamed in, even though if he’d followed the twists and turns of the hallway correctly, he was pretty sure that they weren’t on an outside wall nor were they facing east.
Mace drew a chair of his own to face them. “Now tell me how you came to have your beast,” he told Luke.
Luke told him an abbreviated form of what he’d told Inga, trying to leave out as much of the emotion of it as he could. When he reached Inga’s part in the story, she interjected occasional comments, and told how she had confronted the people in the helicopter.
“Ah,” Mace said quietly. “So that’s what is causing that infernal machine to buzz around at all hours of the day and night, and why it presses against my senses as it does.”
Luke wasn’t sure if he was speaking figuratively or literally with that last part and didn’t quite know how to ask.
“Oh!” Inga exclaimed. “Where did you come from?”
Rogue nosed up next to her. Luke looked around: the hidden door to the study was still closed.
“I guess he followed us in,” Luke said. He reached out and scratched Rogue’s ears.
“I thought he stayed with Thea,” Inga said. She was frowning. “In fact, I’m almost positive he stayed with Thea.”
“He’s really stealthy when he wants to be.”
Mace was looking speculatively at the dog as well. “That’s the dog that was with you on the iceberg? He seems special, as well.”
“He’s definitely an unusual dog,” Luke said, feeling a bit defensive of Rogue. “If you don’t want him here, I can take him back to the patio.”
“It’s fine. I admit I’m not used to pets, but I’ve been growing used to any number of things since my niece Jess came to live with me and changed my rather solitary existence.” Mace smiled briefly. “I don’t know that I can help you much to solve your difficulty with your bear. But since you’ve told me your secrets, I think it is only fair to show you mine.”
He rose from the chair. For a moment nothing happened. Then he shifted. His clothes went with him; he didn’t lose them, but they seemed to merge with him. A mottled gray tint, as of granite, spread across the whole of him: skin, clothes, and all. His shoulders thickened, and wings sprang from them. Fangs grew. Luke realized that he had reached for Inga, and found her hand reaching back for him; they gripped each other’s fingers tightly as Mace completed his transformation.
“You’re a gargoyle,” Inga whispered.
Mace smiled, a startling sight with the fangs jutting from his jaw. His face was expressive despite appearing carved from stone. “And now you know. I can’t compel you to keep my secret, but I ask it.”
“We won’t tell,” Inga said earnestly. She hesitated, fingers digging into Luke’s hand. “Are—areallthe gargoyles in town, are they all really?—”
“No, no,” Mace reassured her. “They are what we call stoneskins. Statues. But statues imbued with a very small bit of our own energy—verysmall, mind you. On such a scale as the town, they can’t do much. But it is not impossible for them to do something, now and then.”
Luke spoke. His mouth felt dry. “Inga told me that the gargoyles can come to life if the town is threatened.”
“And so they might,” Mace answered evenly. “They warn me if anything is amiss. In any case, it’s good to know a bit more of what’s going on here, just in case these people become more of a problem than they already are.”
