All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All original characters are the property of Spacebabie

by: Spacebabie

Email: spacebabie@hotmail.com

Reviews can be found athttp://pub17.ezboard.com/bgargoylesx

Feedback is not only welcome but greatly appreciated.

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Love, Hope and Memories.

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A thick two foot blanket of snow coated the ground. The gray layer of clouds barely moving over the town blotted out the stars and moon, promising more snow the following day. The fallen snow and clouds sandwiched buildings with cold, even the air felt thick. The cold air burned people’s throats as they breathed it in.

The frigid air made a layer of frost on the glass of the Brookfield library, adding an affect to the plastic colorform decals of snowmen , Santa Clause and angels. A wreath made out of holly leaves and berries was hung on the door. The chilly weather made the bright bow atop of the wreath seem faded while the winds made the two silver bells hanging from the bottom jingle slightly. Below the wreath the Children’s Hour sign hung underneath, indicating the library was open for only one more hour, but only for the children.

Inside children from the ages of four to ten gathered in a large circle in the center of the room containing the books for preschoolers, early readers and juviniles. Small Styrofoam cups of cocoa warmed their hands and were placed between their legs. Some of them were still eating the frosted gingerbread cookies given to them free. All eyes were on the adult siting in the chair in front of them.

The woman was draped in deep purple gown that flowed all the way past down her ankles to the floor and hid her feet. Her long billowy sleeves stopped short before the wrist, ending in gold tassles Her large hands were clothed in brown leather gloves. A black cloak was swathed over her shoulder and held secure by a round cloakpin made out of gold and pearls. Her strawberry blond hair was swept back past her shoulders while gold barrets kept it secured over her ears. A silver tiara was crowned over her forehead. Her face was covered in a foundation in a light tan hue. Her eyelids had a pale coat of shimmery green shadow, her cheeks was dabbed with an apricot blush and her full pouty lips were painted a light shade of red.

"Quilital looked deep into the princess eyes," the woman spoke, her arms were stretched out. "’ do not need to thank me, your majesty. I felt it was my honor to help your kingdom.’ ‘I’ll be thanking you for the rest of my life,’ the princess said. ‘I know you will not accept my kingdoms riches, but will you accept my hand in marriage?’"

The graceful gestures of the story teller had enraptured the eyes of Logan Conelly. The human turned gargoyle watched his mate as she continued to tell the story, a tale she had created herself to the group of children. The job only lasted an hour but with a few punts a child she was making hundreds that night. It still paid less than her second job, but she loved story telling more than wearing skimpy outfits and dancing in front of drunken men.

She danced nearly every night, a job she insisted on doing since 1999 when she had awoken from her own sleep spell by the young magic user who had purchased her. The money was going to buying her clan. The man who had originally sold her agreed to sell the rest of her clan, but when he learned she was woken up from her stone sleep spell he doubled the price and kept on increasing the price whenever she and Logan grew closer to their goal. She was not going to dance that night. He had an idea and had been working on a plan for over a week.

The story teller sighed. "Quilital shook his head. ‘I am sorry, but I can not accept, not when the are other kingdoms who are in trouble. After they are free I shall return and accept your offer.’ The princess wiped a tear away, but nodded. ‘I understand. If you did not want to free them you would not be the hero I fell in love with. I shall be here waiting.’ Quilital took her dainty hand into his and placed a kiss on top of it before he raced out of the castle. His horse and loyal companions were waiting for him, ready to assist him in his next adventure." Her hands slowly returned to her lap while the children responded with clapping.

"Is Quilital going to marry the princess someday?" One of the little girls near the front of the crowd asked.

"Ye heard her," a boy sitting next to her snapped. "Quilital is going to return after he saves the surrounding kingdoms."

"Is the next story going to be about Quilital rescuing another kingdom?" Another child asked.

The Storyteller held up head, hoping to silence the children. "There will be many more stories about Quilital, and he will return to the princess someday, but as for now it is time for us to go home."

"Miss Zod is correct," one of the librarians who provided the children with their snacks approached the crowd. The elderly woman had staired out of the room along with the parents of the children "Your parents are ready to take you home, and it’s time to thank Miss Zod for another story."

"Thank you Sherry," several of the children said as the rose from the floor, careful as not to spill their cups. A few of them thanked her with a mention of her last name.

"Your welcome," the cloaked woman said before she rose from her seat. She watched as several children raced for the entrance before she slowly approached the door to the employee’s room.

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"What do you mean you don’t want me to dance?" Scherezade snarled. "I am set to go on stage in a couple of hours." She had removed the clips from her fire-gold hair, releasing the locks from covering her pointed, powder blue ears.

"Well," Logan scratched his chin, covered in short dark brown hair. "Ye see I already went and canceled it fer ye."

Bright red light flooded her eyes. "You did what?"

The copper hued gargoyle held up his hands in defense. His accordion shaped wings had become unfolded. "Ye donae have to dance. That is why I canceled, my love. I know a way of gettin yer clan back and ye donae have to dance anymore fer money."

The glow left her eyes. "You know I won’t accept your money."

"I’m not offerin my money. I have a plan."

"Oh," she raised her brow ridges. "What is it?" She removed the gloves from her talons and undid the cloak pin.

"Well ye see We wake up the clan in front of Mystic."

"What did you say?" Her voice had faded in mid speech. Her arms hung limply at her sides. "Are you suggesting we just give up? After nearly four years?"

Logan stared into her glassy clear eyes. The corners were filling with crystal clear moisture. "No I am not giving up. I am not just handing him over the spell. There are conditions. He has to bring yer clan to Ireland. I have to be the one to perform the spell and he must be unarmed."

"He’s bringing the clan here?"

"Every one of them."

"But once the spell is broken he will own them."

"From what I learned about the clan in Manhattan the man who awoke the original six didn’t own them. I will have everything worked out by the time he arrives."

"And when will that be?" she pulled the long dress off over her body. Her full round breasts were kept underwrap of a bright red halter top and tan leather vest. Her black pleated skirt ended a few inches above her knees.

"Tomorrow night," he stepped backwards, anticipating her to lash out.

"Tomorrow night?" She repeated softly while furrowing her brow ridge. Her eyes slowly filled with crimson. "You have already made the deal? You made the deal without telling me first?"

"I’m telling ye now. Ye see I wanted it to be surprise." He felt his back bump against the wall.

"Surprise?"

"A gift I give unto my dearest, my mate, my love, my Scherezade." He opened his eyes when he felt her hand gently rubbing his arm.

"You give me a surprise, because you love me, and don’t want me to dance. I should be more thankfull, and you should be more brave." She reached up and brushed her knuckle against his forehead. "You’ve been a gargoyle for a little over three years. You need to act more like it."

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The weather did not improve at all the following night, while most of the snow had melted during the day the thick clouds that reformed at sunset promised to deliver more. Scherezod had worried the weather was a harbinger for something to go wrong that night, but Logan had waved it off saying he was counting on the clouds. He was going to need them and hoped the clouds would not deteriorate before his friends from England and Mystic arrived.

Logan’s sister was there, ready to greet them when they had awaken that night. Carrie had the good news that Mystic had arrived in the city along with his statues and was taking a cab over to where they would meet. Delivery trucks were hired to ship the Turkish clan, each onesealed in a wooden crate.

The Turkish gargoyle leaned over the railing, feeling the wooden beam against her skin as she studied the bare fields in front of the mansion she and Logan shared with Carrie. She wanted to be on the ground along with her mate, but he had told her it was his turn to dress as a human. There was only a need for one of them to be in disguise. Someone was needed to stay with the mansion to go over the final details with the friends from England.

Scherezade watched the field as Logan and Alphonse Mystic were waiting along with Carrie, Clancy and Rory. Being the hired servant of the mansion, Clancy insisted on joinging them and Logan invited Rory to witness the event. Always neat and posh the middle aged man upheld his dapper appearance, even covered with a thick layer of clothes and a knit hat sheilding the top of his near bald head. Mystic had objected to Rory waiting there with them, but Logan had told him Mystic did not say anything about any of his childhood friends. The wizard reluctantly agreed and allowed himself and Rusty to be searched for any weapons.

She stood up when a group of yellow moving trucks approached Logan and the others. "They have arrived," she said Her dark eyes were moist like pools of ink. "My clan has arrived."

The bright red curtains behind her rustled softly before a hand parted them and a man dressed in blue and gold armor stepped forward. His neatly sculpted beard was nearly consumed by gray. His brown hair was divided into four pigtails, two hung over his shoulders and down his chest and the other two were hanging freely down his back. An emblem of a dragon was printed across his chest and he carried a sheathed sword and a spear in his hand.

"Are you sure you do not need our help?" Arthur joined her on the balcony. From behind him approached a teenage girl with long mouse brown hair and bundled up in several layers of winter clothes, a tall, leather jacket clad man in his mid twenties and two leonine gargoyles: the male was brassy green in color and had a head like an eagle with a mohawk of light brown hair. The female was more lion like in appearance had long golden flowing mane. Both gargoyles stood on each side of the once and future king, like a couple of body guards. The girl kept close to the young man as he pulled his long ponytail of shimering white hair out from being tucked under his jacket.

Scherezade smiled politely. "I do not need your help as of now, Arthur. Just keep on an eye on the field."

The middle-aged man fingered the leather bound center of his silver spear. "Are you sure?"

"I am not too sure," her smile faded. "But I don’t want us to appear too imposing."

"Don’t worry love," Griff said while pointing towards his eye. "If Mystic tries anything Tabby and I will be able to see him."

"And I’ll make sure we get there in a blink of the eye," Gray Kiteson said while removing a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. "I’ll teleport us." He had respected the Conelly’s rules and didn’t smoke inside the house. He felt his reserve was strong and din’t run to the balcony earlier, condering everyone’s nerves were on edge.

"Should I prepare the teleport spell now?" Morrey Kennedy asked. The seventeen year-old pulled the feaux fur trimmed parka on over her head. She felt her magic skills had improved since her first few lessons with Gray and was more than eager to try them out to help her friends.

Gray shook his head. "You don’t have to try the spell." He rubbed his thumb against the lighter wheel, igniting a small flame when his thumb came down on the button. "In fact I don’t really want you to be fighting."

"Why not?"

"We will have plenty of warriors," Arthur rested a hand on her shoulder. "Do you feel you are ready to face Mystic?"

Morrey remembered the last time she saw the man. He was trying to steal Morganna’s diary and his servant was fighting Arthur. She was under the diary’s painful spell, pulling her towards it. "It was almost two years ago, but you are right. I’m feeling a little bit of an ache just thinking about that scar-faced pretty boy."

Gray snickered as he took his first smoke, the combination of the two actions caused him to cough until his eyes watered. "Scar faced pretty boy," Gray laughex after a few smacks to his chest.

"I appreciate all your help," Scherezade said while jumping onto the railing, her talons curled over the side. "Don’t you dare step into the house with that, Merlin," She glared at the halfling before she took to the air.

Her bat like wings rode the icy currents towards the field in under three mintes. The large U-haul trucks had several people running around, unloading the dull gray stone forms of her clan. She hovered above them as the hefty men lifted the statues, risking muscle straing and pants slipping lower on their bottoms by a few inches. Part of her wanted to land next to them, to see them again, but she did not want to risk being seen by the delivery men. Logan was concealed under several layers of cloths, providing a disguise like the one she usually wore when she was telling stories to children.

Scherezade circled the area once more after the trucks had driven off before she landed, her talons touched the ground gracefully in front of the lifeless stone "My clan," she barely managed to get the words out of her throat. She reached over to the stone forms of her rookery brothers and sisters first, gently rubbing her fingers over their stone horns and wings. She ran her finger tips over the hatchlings, only eighteen years in age. She walked around the eldest three, including the couple who’s egg was amongst the last rookery. There were two dog like beasts and a handful of others who had their first and second breeding season, including the leader and his mate. Fifty in total, there were over a hundred before the soldiers attacked her clan and the humans who gave them shelter, in the name of their religious beliefs.

"Are they all here?" Carrie asked while trying to keep her teeth from chattering. Logan’s younger sister was dressed under a large over coat with a hand woven scarf wrapped around her neck and a dark blue cap perched on top of her head. Only her nose and eyes peeked through the layers.

"All fifty of them are here." Fifty members of her clan and she was the fifty first. The lone statue who didn’t go with the rest of the decorum and was sold on the Internet. The man who bought her was also the one who had awoken her and who promised t rescue her clan. She cast a glance at Logan, hoping his plan would work.

"You see? I kept my part of the bargain." The American man stepped forward. He was dressed in a sleek silver trenchcoat that seemed to float around him whenever he walked. His pale blond hair was slicked back with a palmful of gel. His bright blue eyes stared coyly above a slender and nearly perfect nose. His thin lips we turned up into a cruel smirk. He would have been considered classically handsome if it were not for the long scars running down his face diagonally.

Scherezade stared deep into his eyes and stepped backwards toward’s Logan. "This is the only promise you have kept." She snarled.

He wagged his finger back and forth. "Not quite. You see when I kept upping my price I never said I promised."

"I’ve written it down," the man who had accompanied Mystic had said. Like the other humans he was bundled under a heavy coat, but instead of a woven or knit cap or a hood he had a faded green baseball cap on his head. His stringy cinnamon colored hair poked under the cap. "Every phone call he had with Mr. Conelly, and every time he did not say promise." He pulled out a manilla folder from under his coat and held it out for anyone who would want to read it.

"Why are you even out here?" Mystic raised his pale eyebrows.

Logan stepped forward. "All she wants is to say goodbye to them. Just let her have her final word."

"That can be arranged, but first I want to see the two things you promised."

The human turned gargoyle did not say anything. He removed the leather brief case from Clancy’s hands and held it out before him. Rusty snatched it from his talons and presented it before the human wizard.

Mystic unhinged the brass latches of the case and peeked inside to see the millions of punts held tightly together with paper dollar holders. He counted the number of stacks on the top layer before he closed it. "This all the money you had raised when trying to buy the clan?"

Logan ignored his mate’s growling. "Every one, plus this." He tossed a couple of more wads of punts at him. The extra stacks bounced off his chest and onto the cold hard ground."It will be enough to cover yer travel expense as well as yer hotel and cab fair."

"I’m starting to like you Conelly, but tell me why did you finally give in?"

"I cannae allow the woman I love to completely degrade herself to earn money fer something she and I can never achieve." He pulled Scherezade close and ran his talons through her long strawberry blond locks.

"Love is a powerful weapon."

"I prefer to refer to it as a gift, as a blessing, but never a weapon."

"Now for the second part of our deal." his smirk widened into a grin.

"I’m going to need yer help." He turned to Rory. "Hand me my book."

The red-haired Irishman handed his friend a leather bound tome. The pale blue glyphs on the covered almost seemed to glow under the light of the full moon. "Good luck my friend."

The copper colored gargoyle opened the book and turned the pages towards the middle. He placed his talon against one of the yellowed pages. "Cloud above us, your water freeze. Become ice above our home."

Scherezade watched as her mate’s hair defied the laws of gravity and floated around his head as a bright blue glow surrounded his hand and talons. The energy stirred up by the spell was felt by her, making her skin tingle and her body feel giddy from excitement.

She craned her neck back to stare at the sky, see how he was able to freeze it. All she saw was a smooth shiny layer of clouds. Looking carefully she could see the clouds continuing to swirl over the sheet of the crystal like ice that formed beneath it. It was strange and eerie visual, but it was also beautiful.

"He froze the water vapor," Mystic whispered. "He froze the bottom layer of clouds. Who d-" Loud cracking carried over his voice. He removed his gaze from the clouds and placed it on the stone statues. Their concrete like bodies were covered with fissures and their eyes were lit up with silvery white and ruby tinted glowing. The stone shells slid off the gargoyles as they stretched their bodies and roared.

"Mystic, the ice!" Logan shouted before he quickly set the book down and aimed his hands at the sky. "Multiple Illumines bent!" Multiple blasts of energy was released from his talons and struck the cracking, falling ice, breaking into several pieces.

"Multiple illumines bent!" Mystic sent his own attack against the several large pieces of ice.

"The umbrella’s!" Logan threw his body onto Scherezade and tried to shield them both with his wings. Clancy, Rory and Rusty pulled out their umbrellas and opened them up to take cover under. Logan felt the pieces of ice strike his back and wings. They were not much more than a shower of very thin ice chips.

"My clan," Scherezade slipped from under the body of her mate and ran over to the nearest member of her clan, a dark purple, beaked male from the generation before hers. "Praise the dragon." she threw her arms around him.

"We are awake," the beaked gargoyle said in their native Turkish while hugging her back. His short charcoal gray hair was kept out of his eyes by a row of five spikes, ending in smooth cuvres instead of sharp points. The edge of his wings were lined by the same smooth spikes.

"We are all awake," She ran from clan member to clan member, embracing them and trying to keep from crying. Her resolve was not strong enough and her face was damp by the time she hugged the last one. "The spell is broken."

"My brothers and sisters, are friends have come through," The ninety eight year old leader said. the dark green gargoyle folded his angular wings across his shoulders"Although it is a bit more cooler than we are used too."

"Leader!" One of Scherezade’s rookery’ sisters, a golden yellow web wing, pointed at Rory and the others with wide eyed shock. "Christian missionaries. We are still not safe."

"They are not Christian missionaries," Scherezade said. "Christians yes, but not missionaries. They are my friends and Carrie is my sister now."

"Your friends?" The leader raised his thick brow ridges questionably. A row of sharp spikes ran down the center of his head and two spiral horns were on each side, pointing straight up.

The powder blue female nodded. "We have been asleep for over nine centuries."

"nine centuries?" Several clan members asked at once. Many of them were glancing at their surroundings, either staring at the humans with either suspiscion or curiosity or staring at Logan’s mansion.

"What about Akbhed and Fuham?" The leader’s mate asked. The pale slivery white gargoyle was one of the shortest of the clan, barely standing at five foot three. Her long bluish black tresses were streaked with gray. Long icicle thin horns protruded from the top and sides of her heads, giving her round face the appearance it was framed by a star.

"They did not know how to break the spell," Scherezade said softly. She remembered the saddened faces of their old human friends as they cast the spell. It was only to protect them until the soldiers and a man known as the Hunter would leave. They would not harm the gargoyles if they were stone at night. "They kept their word. The Hunter and other Christian soldiers did not harm us. I know they wanted to have the spell broken, but they did not know how."

"I am sure they tried their hardest," the silver female said. "What happened to the eggs in the rookery?"

"I was told Akbhed and Fuham carried them to the first clan they encountered in the next country."

"They were saved as well."

"What about the humans?" Scherezde’s rookery sister asked. Her eyes had never left Rory and the others. "And the other gargoyle?" Her tone changed from skeptic to friendly as she eyed Logan.

"I was woken a few years before everyone," Scherezade tried to explain.

"What are you telling them?" Mystic asked. The man stuided several languages form the past, such as Latin and languages that are dying like Celtic and Gaelic. He did not know a single Turkish word. "Are you saying goodbye?"

Crimson flashed briefly across her eyes before she turned around. "They have many questions about everything, Mr. Mystic. How would you feel if you woke up hundreds of years into the future? Would you not ask a few questions about the new world?"

"Try to make it snappy," Mystic tapped his watch. "I plan on taking my clan back home with me to Baltimore soon."

"That human is not friend," the purple beaked gargoyle noticed the tone of Scherezade’s voice as she spoke to Mystic. "Who is he?"

"The man is known as Mystic. He bought the clan from someone and he sold me to Logan," Scherezade pointed to the Irish gargoyle. "The female is Carrie, his sister. The one with red hair is Rory and the older man is Clancy. Logan was the one who broke the spell and taught me about the modern world. He helped me learn his language and he even named me."

"How is he a brother of a human?" her rookery sister had tred to ask, but her question was overpowered by the leader’s deep booming voice.

"He named you?" The leader asked. He glanced at the copper hued gargoyle and back at Scherezade.

"I am Scherezade," She swept her hand to her chest. " I was named after the clever woman who saved her life by telling stories." Several members of her clan chuckled and nodded their heads. Their memories of her weaving clever and entertaining stories was still fresh on their minds, since it was one of the last before their sleep spell was cast. They felt the name fit their sister.

"Did he try to buy the rest of us?"

"He wanted, too but I did not want him to spend his entire inheritance. I earned money by telling stories to human children and by dancing for human males. The human males did not care if I was a gargoyle or not. All they cared about was my body. I danced and had their hands touch my skin. Some tried to touch me here." She pointed at her chest and held on tightly to her handful. "Everything was for you."

The leader’s mate watched as a tear trickle out of the corner of her eyes and felt her heart sink. "It took you how long to raise the money?"

"Six months at first," She wiped the tears from her eyes and pointed an accusing talon at Mystic. "But when he learned how I was awaken he doubled the price, and whenever I came close he would raise it again. Logan was willing to add more, but I wanted to do it myself. He has been so good. He even turned himself into a gargoyle, because he loves me."

Her rookery sister had gotten the answer she wanted, but she was not quite expecting it. Many members of the clan mimicked her eyes bouncing back and forth from Scherezade and to Logan, a few of them had thier jaws dropped and many others began whispering, several tiny conversations broke out amongst them.

The leader held up his hand to silence the shocked gasps. "And do you love him?"

"He’s my mate. It was his idea to wake you up in front of Mystic."

"I heard my name," The wizard said. "Are you telling them I’m their master?"

Scherezade gritted her teeth, wanting to tear out the wizard’s hair but held back. She had to trust her mate. "He says he is your master because he owns your stone forms. He expects you to go home with him and serve him."

"He expects us to be his slaves?" Her sister hissed "We are not humans. Gargoyles can never be the slaves of a human, nor the slave of another gargoyle. That is the law passed between the two species and we have honored it for centuries."

"He does not think so. He expects you to go with him back to America, a place were slavery is illegal." Logan, Clancy and Carrie spent many hours educating her on how the world worked. On her few nights off she watched educational shows, most of them historical programs, including a special on the American Civil war.

"Is it illegal here?" The leader asked.

Scherezade nodded. "Yes it is."

"Since it is illegal in both countries he cannot own us, but if we want to go with him we can?"

"I believe that is how it works," she smiled, begining to realize what Logan had in mind when he created the plan."

"And if we don’t want to?"

"Then you live with me if you wish," she turned towards the three foot house. The balonies were easily seen as they bulged out on the square shaped building. Squinting her eyes she could make out Griff and Tabby who were in no doubt watching them ad waiting for Mystic to make his move. "That mansion is my home. It can be our home if you wish."

The leader nodded. "I am going to put it to a vote." He turned to face the rest of the clan. "My brothers and sisters, do you want to go with this man who thinks he can own us as his servants because he paid for many non living statues? Speak now if you do." The silence brought a smile to his face. "How many of you want to live with Scherezade and her mate where we will be with humans who can teach us about this new world. Speak now if you do." The Purple gargoyle and the hatchlings instantly cheered followed by Scherezade’s rookery, the elders, beasts and several others. " I believe it is settled then."

Scherezade turned around and approached Mystic. The wizard was still glancing at his watch. She almost wondered if he had frozen that way. "I have talked with my clan, Mr. Mystic."

"Good," Mystic dropped his arm. "Ask a couple of them to carry me and Rusty back to our hotel and tell them to find shelter near the docks."

"They are not going back with you," she spoke in a polite manner, trying her hardest to not gloat. "They want to live with me."

Mystic’s eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"The leader asked if they wanted to go with you and they do not."

"Tell them it doesn’t matter if they want to or not," his eyes narrowed as his voice dropped. "They are mine."

She shook her head. "You cannot own a gargoyle as a slave. It is part of our social laws with humans."

"That was then and this is now."

"And according ta yer American laws they cannae be owned," Logan walked up beside her.

"You seem to be missing something," Mystic held up a finger. "I bought them. I had already paid good money for them, that means they are mine."

"Ye paid fer fifty one statues," Logan said. "Ye bought them when ye thought they were no more than mere statues. Ye cannae own living sentient beings that have rational thoughts like a human," His accusing tone ligthened. "and besides I just bought them from ye."

The scarred man shook his head while chuckling. "What are you saying? You still don’t have enough."

"Actually we do," Logan smirked. "All that money in the briefcase matches the last price ye gave me, and with the extra I gave ye I met yer price and much more."

The wizard's pale face slowly darkened with pink as he chocked on the first words that came to his mind."You can have it back. I’m adding two more million punts to the list." He held out the briefcase before him and nodded at Rusty. His servant quickly scrambled to place the extra stacks of cash to the top of the case.

"Ye cannae do that. Ye accepted the money already and cannae give it back."

"They are mine!" His shaking limbs nearly caused the the money to slide off the top of the case.

"No, they are not," Scherezade shook her head. "They are free now to do what they want and they chose not to work for you."

"I won’t allow you to get away with this!"

"Yes you will, my clan will tell you otherwise," She turned to the leader and spoke in her old native tongue. "He says he still owns you and won’t allow you to live where you want."

"Is that so?" The leader asked. "I believe we should convince him otherwise. What do you say my brothers and sisters?"

The clan did not say a word, but they turned to the American wizard. One by one their eyes became illuminated. Their lips pulled back to reveal their fangs as they dropped to the ground, gripping the cold hard soil with their talons.

Mystic looked over each member of the clan. Every face he stared into was contorted with hate. The wizard placed the money on the ground. "If you think you can keep me from reclaiming what is mine then you are wrong." He raised his hand and began to chant. If they would not go with him willingly he would enslave their minds.

He paused when he felt a temporal displacement in the atmosphere. Someone else had recently casted a spell and the effect was near where he stood. Turning around he noticed the crowd near Logan had nearly doubled. The female lion like gargoyle was one he had never seen before, but the others were too familiar. He had seen them before along with the man with red hair. All four of them had prevented him from taking the diary of Morganna la Fay.

"Sorry chap, but I think you are a bit out numbered here," the griffin like gargoyle folded his feathered wings across his chest. He did not look like he would resort to snarling like the Turkish gargoyles, but with gargoyles one could never be so sure.

The man with flowing white hair licked the tip of his finger and held it high above him. He felt the energy that was begining to build from Mystic’s chanting. "It appears someone was attempting some dirty magic." He narrowed his eyes at Mystic. "Now that wouldn’t be you, now would it?"

Mystic lowered his hand. "It appears we are a bit outnumbered." He smoothed the collar in his jacket and picked up the briefcase. "Lets go Rusty."

Rust glanced at his boss with shock. "Are you just giving up?"

"Not another word Rusty, pick up the rest of the money and follow me." He walked past his servant and continued moving through the night without even turning back. Rusty shrugged before grabbing the extra bills and following him.

The gargoyles allowed their glow to drop from their eyes. "Did he leave for good?" The leader asked as he watched the back of Mystica as he continued to walk away.

"They want to know if he is truley gone for good," Scherezade translated.

"Gone yes," Gray patted down his pockets, realising he left his packet of cigarettes back at the mansion with Morrey. "Bugger."

"Gray is right," Arthur solemely nodded his head. "He may not be stupid, but he seems like he will never learn. He knows he can’t win right now, but that means he has completely given up."

"Probably going to use some of that money on his next scheme," Gray grumbled.

Scehrezade nodded in understandment asshe turned to her clan. She wanted to translate the exact words both Arthur and Gray had told her, but staring into their hopful eyes she did not want to let them down "He is gone for now," it was better to let them know the truth. "He feels he is not truely defeated, but if he does return we will be here and ready to defend ourselves. Right now the most important thing is the spell is over and you are free." Scherezade cried out before being pulled into an embrace by her most vocal rookery sister.

Logan pried her out of her clan’s arms and pulled her towards him. "I enjoy seeing ye happy."

"I am proud to consider you to be my mate," Scherezade rubbed her knuckles against his forehead. "I love you."

"I guess this is early, but Merry Christmas." He pulled her close and placed his mouth against hers.

__________________________________________________________________________

Manhattan, December 12

Charlemane Bluestone-Destine pulled on the edge of his Sponge Bob printed blanket and tucked the ends under the mattress liked his mother and Owen had taught him. He was four and old enough to do a few things all by himself. One of those was to make his bed and the other was to keep his room neat. Owen thanked him whenever he peered into the young weregoyle’s room and saw him at work. His parents thanked him too in the form of money. He received fifty cents each week.

His mother wanted to give him two quarters but they were not enough for the jingle sound he liked to hear. He loved shaking the coins in his pockets and listening to the sounds they make when they struck each other. Instead of the two coins called quarters he was given a quarter, two dimes, and a nickel.

He also loved to hear the coins when he put them inside his piggy bank. It was his latest Chanuka gift from his grandmother. He was using a cleaned out mayonnaise jar to store his coins and now he as a place to put his money. He loved slipping coins into the slit on the pink pig. It was exactly like the one from the Toy Story movies, sitting up right with large black dots for eyes.

While staring at the pig he remembered it was while since he saw the movie. He was sure the tape for the first one was still in Alex’s room. Perhaps his friend was in the mood to watch a video and they can watch it together.

The idea was still fresh on his mind when he found Alex racing towards him with a large grin pinned on his face. "Charlie it’s snowing." he spoke with a mixture of ugency and joy.

"Snowing?" Charlie froze in mid step. It had been nearly a week since it snowed the last time, and it wasn’t much. It hardly covered the ground and when he and Alex tried to make snow balls from it they came out clumpy and crumbled before they couldn’t even form them properly.

"Yeah, There is a lot of it. Let’s go." He turned around and raced towards the coat racks, not even waiting to see if his friend was going to follow.

There were several tall thin wooden coat racks, resembling trees near the entrance to Wyvern’s courtyard, along with several box likeshelves for storing boots and others. Both Alex and Charlie ignored the tall and nearly naked adult sized racks and stopped in front of the ones that were only three feet high. The boys grabbed onto their coats, both lined with a layer of goose down, and slipped into them before grabbing onto the items placed into the wooden cubbyholes Owen had built for them. Their glossy black snowboots, along with stripped caps with puffed up tassles, wool knit gloves and scarves.

"Where you go?" The boys were about to exit into the courtyard when they heard a squeal from behind. Two year old Macy toddled up to them with a bow slipping out of her light brown hair and her leathery wings folded over her shoulders.

"Great," Alex sighed. "The Tag Along." There was no way he was going to allow Macy to come with them. They would not be able to have as much fun with the two year old trying to keep up. He cast a wary glance at Charlie, hoping he would take a hint

"We are going outside," Charlie answered her question.

"Why?" Her blue eyes were wide with unsatable curiositry.

"To play with snow."

"Can I play?" Her question was short and honest, but by studying the oldest child’s face she knew she had done something wrong. His lips were held into a tight frown as he stomped his foot in frustration. She wrapped her wings tighter around her body while she stepped backwards.

"You can come," Charlie answered, ignoring Alex’s annoyed gasp. He removed the small purple jacket that was Macy’s from the coat rack. "Can you put your boots and mittens on?"

"Uh-uh."

Alex leaned over to his friend. "This is why I didn’t want to talk to her."

"Why?" Charlie’s eyebrows rose. "There is nothing wrong with her."

"She’s slowing us down. Baby’s always slow people down." The older boy shot Macy a scowl. The little girl was too busy slipping her wings through the oval shaped slits in her coat to see his face.

"She isn’t a baby," Charlie quickly grabbed Macy’s soft red mittens and tiny black boots. "Ronnie is a baby." He approached the little girl as she thread her arms through the sleeves. He pulled the open ends of the coat together and noticed the zipper was not attached. "Alex help me. I can’t do this zipper."

Alex sighed as he stood in front of the two year and old latched the metal ends together. Holding onto the bottom he pulled the handle of the zipper up. "Won’t her wings get cold?" He quickly glanced at the exposed pair of wings as he continued to zip.

Charlie looked at him like he had asked a stupid question. "They are gargoyle wings." He slid one of the mittens over Macy’s hand. "Can you put the other one on yourself, Macy?"

"Like how you did it?" Macy asked.

"Just like that." He watched as she held onto the second mitten with her hand and slipped her bare fingers through the opening. "Put the thumb on your thumb." She wiggled her fingers in the material.

"Fum on fum."

"Good, now sit down." He slipped her feet into the boot and pulled the zippers up. They were the ones he could handle.

___________________________________________________________________________

The three children exited the warm castle and entered the courtyard that appeared to have been magically transformed from the fresh snow fall. The picnic tables and benches had thin layers of snow topping the surfaces, giving them an appearance of frosted gingerbread.. The barren areas that served as gardens for the rest of the year were concealed by snow covered tarps and surrounded by stone borders.

Charlie reached over to pull Macy’s hood up over her head before the toddler raced over to the sand box. It looked like it was full of snow instead of sand until Macy removed some of the soft and cold white covering and felt the cold sand beneath. "Sand turn to ice."

"The Snow hardened it,"Alex walked over to the swing set and grabbed onto one of the swings. He pulled back and let it fly forward, the snow that had collected on the seat flew off. "Charlie try the slide."

"Okay," the weregoyle scrambled up the steps to the tall metal slide, kicking more snow off. He slowly sat down on the top feeling the frigid metal through his thick pants. Icy breezes blew through the air, nipping at his cheeks. "It’s cold." He pushed himself down. His sliding body wiped the snow of the smooth surface and landed in the small white pile at the bottom. He quickly stood back up and rubbed his bottom. "My butt feels funny."

"Like it’s frozen?" Alex asked while picking up a handful of snow. This time there was enough for a snowball fight. He watched as Charlie examined the monkey bars and outside the plastic tube slide. Without a second thought the threw the snowball at Charlie’s back.

"Hey!" Charlie spun around. His friend did nothing to hide the fact he was the one who threw it. Alex was smiling the same sly grin his father was known for. "Oh yeah?" He scooped up another hand full of snow and packed it tight before he threw it at his friend. Before he even tried to see if it had landed or not he reached down and grabbed another clump, unaware Macy had approached him.

The youngest of the three had become bored with the sandbox and toddled up to Charlie."What you do?"

"I’m making a snowball." Charlie stood up in time for another snow ball to land on his chest. The clump of snow in his hand had nearly slipped out of his hand. He stared at his chest, trying to ignore Alex's laughter before he turned to Macy. "Want to help? Watch me." He held the snow in front of the toddler while he squeezed it together and rolled it around in his hands. He watched as Macy pressed two handfuls of snow together and tried to pat it into a ball, but it came out misshapen and tiny bits of snow was falling off. "Now we do this." He threw the snow at Alex.

Alex laughed and ducked, only to have a crumbling wad of snow land on his thigh. "Hey no fair. Two against one."

"She’s on my side." Charlie threw another snowball at Alex. He wasn’t expecting to feel a cold shower to strike against his chest. He turned to Macy who was gathering more snow.

"Everyone for themselves!" Alex shouted as he threw another snowball. Charlie ducked and rebounded with a frozen shot at Alex’s legs. Macy picked up the two large snowballs she had made and threw one at each boy. The snow had met their targets, one landing on Alex’s chest and the other on Charlie’s shoulders.

Charlie laughed and clapped at the toddler."Macy wins," he said while wiping of the white bits that stuck to his jacket.

"I win?" Macy asked.

"Why does she win?" Alex frowned. "I want to play some more."

"Macy wins, because she got both of us, and we didn’t get her." Charlie explained. "and I don’t want to play this game."

"I win, I win, I win." Macy danced around, the hood of her jacket flew back.

Alex pressed his lips together and found a large area of snow. "Fine. We’ll make snow angels." He sat down on the cold damp ground.

"How you make snow angels?" Macy asked as Charlie slipped her hood back over her head and approached Alex.

"Well first you have to lay in the snow," Alex laid back in the snow as he explained. "Like this, and then you move your arms up and down and your legs out and then back together. Like you are doing jumping jacks." His arms and legs slid across the ground moving the snow away from his body.

"Lay like this?" Charlie lied down a few inches from Alex. "And we move arms but they don’t touch each other."

The older boy sat up and watched as his friend was doing everything right. "Yeah, like that. Macy doesn’t have to move her arms she can try to mover her wings up and down."

"Yeah, Macy. Move your wings instead of your arms, but move your legs like mine." His legs stretched out and pulled together until the boots touched each other, making an almost click sound that was slightly soggy.

"Move my wings and legs." Macy sat down near the boys and flopped backwards. Her wings brushed up and down while her legs kicked out and were brought together.

Alex continued swinging his arms and legs until the hard surface became to cold for him. He brought his legs together and carefully he stood up. He knew a trick on how to leave the angel behind without tracking footprints through it. He bent his legs and jumped as far as he could jump, landing a foot away from the angel. Charlie and Macy followed his lead and jumped out of their snow formations.

"What do they look like?" he pointed at their creations.

"Like angels," Macy replied.

"We made angels," Charlie smiled. "you made an angel, Macy."

"I make an angel."

The children were too busy applauding each other and admiring thier work to notice if anyone had approached the door. "What are you three doing out there!" The children turned around at the outburst. Gloria was standing with the door open, staring at them with a shocked expression on her face. "It’s freezing out there. Get in here now."

The children didn’t object. When an adult had that tone of voice it was best not to argue. The three of them quickly ran inside, only pausing to wipe their feet on the plastic welcome mat that resembled a patch of grass, complete with three plastic flowers embedded into the corner.

"Where are your parents?" Gloria stared at them with her arms folded across her chest. Her chocolate brown hair was recently cut to just above shoulder length and styled in whispy layers. She used to favor shirts and blouses with the occasional skirt, but had given them up in favor of maternity dresses. Her red and pink checkered gown hung loosely on her body, but seemed stretched against her large stomach.

"My mom is with the P.I.T people and daddy is at work," Alex replied while peeling off his jacket.

Charlie pulled off his boots. "Working." He slid out of his jacket and removed the cap from his head.

Macy was only able to take her mittens off her hands. "Dada at work. Mama take pictures."

Gloria lost her stern edge. She glanced down at her middle and ran her fingers over the bulge. "I’m sorry. I’m just acting like a mom because I feel like one." She briefly forgotten the fact her husband and Frank worked for the Labyrinth’s Step Up Corporation und and Jam was working on her photography photos.

"Its okay," Alex said while he put his winter clothing away. "You are going to be a mom."

"I was just shocked to see you out there without any supervision. Why did you go outside?"

"We were bored."

"I made an angel," Macy said as Charlie helped her out of her coat.

"She made her first snow angel," Alex explained.

"I see," Gloria smiled. "Well you just came in from the snow. Do you know what that means?"

"We have to take our coats and stuff off?"

"That, and I have to make you three some cocoa." She smiled as both boys hellped Macy out of her boots, each boy pulling down the zippers and sliding them off her feet.

_________________________________________________________________________

Gloria searched through the lower cabinets, trying to find the right sized skillet. "I’m going to make you the cocoa the way my mother made mine when I was a little girl." She remembered watching her mother in the kitchen heating milk up in a medium sized sauce pan and mixing it with the Hershey cocoa powder. It was before she turned twelve, before they got a microwave oven, and started to buy the instant kind. She still used warm milk with the Nesquick powder since it made the cocoa richer and creamier than using hot water.

"Gloria, can I ask a question?" Alex called out form the dining room. They boys had found places to sit down at the table. Gloria was more than thankful Macy was able to climb into her highchair. there was no way she would have been able to pick up the toddler in her condition. She was still able to secure her seat.

"Sure," Gloria filled the skillet halfway with milk and turned on the heat to midlevel. She grabbed the milk container and bright red cap.

"Why is everyone pregnant?"

Gloria exhaled and nearly dropped the milk cap. "It’s kind of complicated. I don’t know if your parents explained it to you or not but I don’t think I can go in full detail."

"You don’t have to fully explain."

"You like chicken eggs?"

"Yeah."

"Well it’s easy to get chicken eggs because they are always laying eggs. You know those little jars of caviar your parents like? Do you know why you can’t have any?"

"Because they are expensive?"

"They are expensive," she brought out the tin of cocoa powder and pulled the sugar bowl closer to her. "They are expensive because the fish only lay their eggs once a year and that makes the eggs rare. Gargoyles can only lay eggs once every twenty years. That is why all the female gargoyles are pregnant."

"You are not a gargoyle."

"Weregoyles can only lay an egg once a year if they choose. Marle, Demona and I chose to lay eggs with the other gargoyles." She placed the two small cups and Macy’s special toddler cup on the counter.

"Why are you big?" Charlie asked. "My mama and my sister have big tummies."

Gloria breathed in deeply. "Gargoyle and weregoyle eggs are big. They are the size of watermelons. It takes about six months for the eggs to grow and they grow in a special pocket inside us. When the eggs are ready we lay them, like chickens." She did not know if that was exactly true or not. She had never laid an egg before in her life. "I hope that answers all your questions." She spooned a little bit of the Hershey powder into each of their cups along with a few spoonfuls of sugar. Gloria turned the heat off the stove and poured the milk into each of their cups and stirred until everything was blended. "Almost ready." She snapped the spout like top onto Macy’s cup and grabbed the bag of miniature marshmallows

She had no idea Owen would be there. The blond man was placing a small baby boy into one of the four highchairs set up at the table. He took notice of the weregoyle and her tray when he stood back up. "Do you need any help?"

"I could have used some help when I was making the cocoa." She said curtly.

"I’m sorry I couldn’t have been here sooner. I was giving Ronnie his bath." His eyes never left his son. The seven month old stared at his father’s hand while his thin tail flickered from side to side. He reached up and brought his fingernails down against’ his father’s flesh. Owen pulled his hand away quickly and stared at the seemingly innocent child. The baby blinked his bright eyes as his fingernails seemed to have shortened instantly.

Alex could not believe what he had just saw. "Did he scratch you?" It appeared Ronnie had lashed against his father like Cagny lashed at him when used to play with the cat’s tail

"Bad baby," Macy turned in her high chair and wagged her finger and the infant.

"He scratched me, but I don’t think he meant any harm," Owen said while examining his hand. "He’s just learning how to use his retractable nails. They aren’t that sharp. He didn’t leave mark, not even any pink scratches."

"What are retakpole nails?" Charlie asked while never removing his eyes from Ronnie. The infant’s fingers were curling and uncurling.

"That is retractable," Alex said. "I don’t know what they are."

"Bad," Macy hissed.

"It means they have special pockets in their fingers for their nails," Gloria explained. "They can pull their nails into their pockets and they can slide out." She tore open into the clear plastic bag. "How many should I put in and don’t say a hundred or even ten. Make it under ten." She glanced up at the highchairs when Macy hissed.

"We should get as many as our age," Alex said. "I get six."

Gloria shook her head. "That is not fair, Alex." She counted out ten of the tiny white confectioneries and placed them into the cups, five each. "Here you go." She placed the cups of hot chocolate in front of the boys.

"Goo bah," Ronnie reached out in front of him, trying to stretch across his highchair table and only earning another hiss from Macy.

"Good girls don’t hiss," Gloria set the toddler cup full of cocoa down on Macy’s high chair. table along with five marshmallows. "I’m sorry I can’t put them in your cup, but you can still eat them."

The pink light dimmed form Macy’s eyes as soon as Gloria had placed the last marshmallow in front of her. The toddler picked up one of them and squeezed it between her fingers. She was delighted by the softness of the treat with the sweet aroma and plopped it in her mouth. It tasted just as sweet as it had smelled and it felt fun to chew.

Owen watched the two year old with a muted amusement. "I believe this is the first time she has ever eaten a marshmallow." He turned back at his own son who was reaching towards Macy’s direction. "You are going to have to wait a little longer. If you are hungry I’ll warm up some of your mother’s milk. Gloria, you don’t mind watching him for a second?"

The grown woman shurgged. "I have to get ready to watch my own. At this point the younger the better."

"Thank you." He gave his son another gentle kiss before entering the kitchen. The infant didn’t try to lash at him. He was too absorbed with Macy and her marshmallows.

Charlie didn’t removed his attention from his cup. The marshmallows continued to spin from the four year old’s breath, trying to cool it down, and leaving white swirls. He only sat up when he heard Alex laughing. "What’s funny?"

Alex’s laughter slowed down to mere snickering. "Owen is going to get some of Kittys milk. Milk comes from women right here." He touched himself on the chest.

"The chest?" Charlie blinked. All this time he wanted to know why the women had large bumps on their chest and now he new they had milk inside them. He pointed at Gloria’s breasts. "Can I see your milk?"

"Charlie!" Gloria folded her arms across her chest and stepped back. "Alex, look at what you have done."

"Sorry," Alex rolled his eyes "They can only make milk when they have a baby."

"Oh," Charlie nodded his head. "What about Gloria, and my mama and Angela?"

Alex shrugged. "I guess it’s when the egg hatches." He glanced over to Gloria who slowly approaching the table again. "Am I right?"

"Pretty much." She warily watched as the boys blew on their cups to try to cool their drinks down. She didn’t mind sitting with them while they drank their cocoa, but she had a problem with some of the questions they asked. She glanced down at her bulge and wondered if her child would ask as many questions. Maybe, it would be a girl.

Owen returned to the dining area holding onto a warm bottle. He raised his right eyebrow while surveying the table. He said not a single word and picked his son out of the highchair and cradled him while he placing the nipple of the bottle into his mouth.

"Yummy!" Macy set her cup down and smacked her lips.

"Macy likes cocoa," Alex said before he slurped a little from his cup. "It is good."

"Feels nice and warm?" The adult asked as she rummaged around the dining room shelves. She smiled when she found the plastic storage box and a stack of construction paper.

"Yeah," Charlie said. "What you have?"

"Something for you to do. Your first grade class hasn’t started to make cards yet?" She placed the paper and box in front of Alex.

The six year old set his cup down. "No, not yet."

"Why don’t you make some now? You can give it to your parents or to the members of the clan. You can make several of them."

"You think we are too loud?" Alex asked slowly. Usually when his mother gave him a fun project to do it was because he was making too much noise.

"No, I just want to give you a nice and safe activity, to keep you from being bored."

"I’m part Jewish," Charlie said.

"And your father and Jerry would love some Chanuka cards." She gently pat the top of Charlie’s head before she opened the box. The trays moved up on hinges until they were neatly set in the position of a ladder. The bottom of the box unfolded into two small sections. She skipped over the shelf containing scissors and removed the crayons and markers. From the two bottom parts of the box she took out the bottle of Elmer’s glue and gluesticks, glitter, and sequins.

The boys thumbed through the stacks of paper until they found the colors they wanted. Alex took a brown, chocolate scented marker and began drawing several triangles. Charlie created a large triangle out of glue on his paper and poured glitter on it. While it dried he turned the paper upside down and created another large triangle and sprinkled on more glitter.

"That’s a good star of David," Gloria complimented when the glitter formed the image.

"Me make," Macy pointed at the artist’s tackle box and the paper. "Me make one."

"I don’t think that would be wise, not too mention messy." Owen said while wiping Ronnie’s mouth.

"I’m not going to give her any glue." Gloria selected a piece of blue paper along with white, red and green crayons. She folded the paper in half, rubbing her fingers over the bend to give it a well developed crease and handed it to the toddler. "Draw a snowman, or Santa, or whatever."

"I draw snowman." Macy grabbed the white crayon and drew large connecting circle and scribbled inside them. She drew stick figure arms with red and a happy face with a green hat.

"Crayon drawing isn’t too messy," Owen said. "But I’m not sure about the boys playing with glitter on the dining room table."

"I know a cleaning trick," Charlie picked up the picture with glitter and pulled out another sheet of paper. He held up his card and the glitter rained down on to the second piece of paper. "Miss Audrey taught us how."

"The glitter clean up trick," Alex nodded. Charlie folded the paper in half and angled the crease over the glitter tube. The rest of the sparkling material rained down into the tune, leaving very little to fall on to the table.

"Still a mess," Owen grumbled, his eyes were drawn to the sparkling residue that didn’t make it back into the container.

"And I’ll clean it up," Gloria said as she pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Snowman!" Macy held up her latest piece of artwork.

"That’s nice, Macy." Owen placed the bottle on the table and hefted his son up. With gentle patting he managed to emit a belch out of the infant’s mouth.

"Look at what I made," Alex held up his card. The nine triangles were the pointed heads of reindeer. Alex had topped each head with a few spars hairs and golden yellow antlers. He glued on blue sequin eyes and drew black noses on the pointed tips. Only one reindeer had a red sequin for a nose.

"And mine," Charlie raised his picture of a golden star and held it above his head.

"They are all nice," Gloria said. "Why don’t you draw another picture on the inside or write a message?"

"OK," the boys picked up their crayons and flipped open the cards.

Gloria demonstraited to Macy how to open her card. She watched as the children drew more colorful images, placing her head against her hand. Someday her son or daughter will be at the table, making small works of art.

"Thinking about your own future child?" Owen noticed the warm misty look in her eyes and the dreamy smile. "Kitty had the same look a few months before Ronnie was born."

"Pretty much," she sighed. "I’m also thinking about the new year and the council. I hope the other clans accept Ishimura’s idea for a connecting Network."

"I hope the best for all the clans," Owen agreed while he slowly rocked Ronnie back and forth in his arms.

___________________________________________________________________________

Several countries celebrated the joyus holiday that was Christmas. They each celebrated it their own way with a few common customs overlapping with each other. The majority shared the jolly figure of the man called Santa Claus. In the island nation of Japan the people share the jovial gift bringer, but the holiday was also a romantic one. Loved ones bestowed gifts of the heart upon each other and sprigs of mistletoe were strewn above every doorway.

Light orchid talons interlocked with thicker claws of dull gray as two gargoyles dove down towards the small villiage sharedby both humans and gargoyles. Sora‘s grip on her mate’s hand tightened as she felt the cool December breezes take her higher into the sky. Her large eyes sparkled, matching the star filled sky, when she gazed into his own eyes. Her blue-black hair flowed freely that night seeming to melt into the sky.

"A beautiful night," Yama breathed. "A perfect solstice to spend with a beautiful female." His lips that were usually locked in frown from the heavy burden he placed on himself had turned completely upside down.

"I can’t remember the last time you smiled," She tried to match his own grin. "You work so hard and need to relax. Remember where you come from."

"I will never forget, and I will never forget you, my love."

"I hope you remembered how unpredictable the winds are around here." Her smile widened when his brow ridges raised. Her wings flapped up and down violently causing her to shake loose from Yama. "Catch me." Her voice tingled with amusement as her wings pulled back and she dove down to the village below.

Yama blinked at her sudden burst of playful energy. Her usual level of maturity caused him to forget about their age difference. "She wants me to have a good time." He smiled again and shifted his wings to allow a rapid descent.

The younger gargoyle turned her head back to make sure her mate was watching and squealed with jubilance when she saw him trying to catch up to her. Sora pulled up, trying to slow herself down slightly. She could hear her lover ganging speed. She wanted to wait until he was a single wing spreadth away from her before she would shift direction.

Yama pulled back when Sora slowed down. He knew what she was up to and he was not going to fall for it. He was going to get the surprise on her. He allowed himself to drop a few feet more till he nearly touched the roof tops with the end of his tail and his lower talons. He glided slowly while staring up. Luckily for him, they were not the only gargoyles gliding over the village. He wove around under neath the other members of his clan until he nearly glided into one of the buildings.

Yama clang to the sides and clibed around, keeping his talons immersed into the building, while searching for Sora. He found her gliding around at the same reduced speed she slowed herself down to. She was looking in every direction, trying to find him.

He leaped to the closest building quietly without removing his eyes from her. He scaled closure to her and hopped two more buildings and climbed up to the roof, but did not climb on top of it. She was only few feet above him. With a deep breath he spread his wings and leaped into the sky behind her. His wings spread out grabbing onto the air while he reached out and grabbed her tail.

"Nani!" Sora twisted her body around, freeing her tail. Her eye lids lowered seductively and her open jaw closed to form a smirk. "So you have caught me."

"Hai," Yama chuckled. "Arrogato Sora-can. I needed to play that game."

"I am glad you enjoyed it, but now I’m ready to glide with you again." She held out her hand. "Do you accept?"

"Now and forever." He accepted her hand into his and shifted his wings to catch a frigid updraft. They glided towards the nearest border wall and glided in a complete circle before rebounding back to the village.

Only one person was waiting on the wall as the two lovers glided near. One individual who was certain he had never felt lonelier before in his life. Gawain watched the gargoyles of Ishimura sail through the sky like kites on a string. Part of him wanted to join them, but felt the second he would leave the wall he would fall to the frozen ground. The emerald green gargoyle folded his golden wings over his shoulders and across his chest plate, locking together at the triple talons.

He briefly shifted his gaze to the humans racing around beneath him. The night of the Winter solstice was celebrated by both species in the village. The humans had set up a fair with a rainbow of paper lanterns and decorative banners. Everyone had dressed into their kimonos and yukatas and cruised around the booths searching for games to play and food to eat. The gargoyles were allowed to participate, but he did not feel like joining in on the festivity.

"Tea for your thoughts?" Vahril stared up at the emerald green gargoyle. The dark blue alien seemed to be as much interested in the celebration as he was. She was still dressed in her usual outfit of crisscrossing sections of white spandax and boots. The boots was one of the two differences. They wree a recent gift when her old footwear had worn out. The pair was made out of tan leather and came up to an inch below her knee. The only other difference were the sprigs of holly bobby-pinned to her white dreads. A steaming Styrofoam cup was in each of her hands. "You look like you could use some company."

Gawain shrugged, allowing his wings to seperate. "If you would rather be with me than at the fair." He hopped down, using his wings to slow the fall and landed next to her.

The alien stepped back the second his talons touched the ground."I did not stay behind so I can attend a festival," she set one cup down and grabbed on to Gaiwan’s back, her legs wrapped around his middle and held fast, gently squeezing against his ribs. "I’m not hurting you?" He shook his head. "I chose to stay so I could be with my friends." The director had granted the team a whole month of to spend the holidays with their families and friends. Nearly the entire team had decided go to New York. Robyn went to see her brothers and their families and Harry was going to spend Christmas with her along with the Nanette entity, Matrix. The cougar mutate, Fang took his daughter and the gargoyle, jaguar hybrid, McKinley to see Spring’s mother and spend the holidays and Spring’s third birthday in the Labyrinth. Vahril was invited to go along with him but like Gaiwan decided to stay in Japan. They did take up Yama’s invite to visit his home with him.

Gaiwan climbed the wall in silence. He wondered if she chose to provide him with some company because she truly wanted to, or was she doing it out of pity. "I don’t think I can provide much entertainment." He said as soon as the climbed to the top of the wall.

"But you are someone who I can talk too," She slid from his back and found a comfortable place on the top of the wall to sit while patiently waitng for him to glided down and retrieve his own tea. "I do not know anyone here besides you and Yama.," her gaze shifted to the gargoyle filled sky, catching sight of the two lovers. "And I believe it would be rude if I disturbed Yama."

He held the cup in one hand while grabbing onto the wall with his other. "What do you want to talk about?" He climbed the wall, using only one hand and both feet.

"About why you did not go with the others to New York, and a few other things."

His hand reached up over the wall first and set the cup down before he scaled over the side and sat down next to her. "It’s complicated." His tail drooped over the edge of the wall.

"Complicated?" Her pale silver pupils dilated. "This is not about you feeling responsible about what Thailog made you do?"

"It’s not that," he removed the plastic lid from his tea, relasing a cloud of steam. "I don’t want to be around my rookery siblings and it’s not because of Thailog."

"Is it because they would remind you of your old home?"

"Pretty much."

"You told me you celebrated Christmas as well as the solstice on Avalon," she smiled warmly. "Tell me what it was like?"

"The humans who raised us didn’t mean for us to adopt their ways," he sighed. "It was sort of unavoidable. They remembered about the solstice and how we would eat a good large meal and each take turn speaking of the past and hopes for the future."

"You celebrated a winter solstice, even though it was always summer?" She brought her cup to her mouth. The warm, light green liquid was sweeted with several gooey spoons of honey.

"We knew when it occurred because of the Magus’s calendar. Guardian Tom would travel back to Scotland every hundred years to see if they clan had awoken from the stone sleep spell. The Magus calculated how long it would take on Avalon for a hundred years to pass in the rest of the world."

"How many days would that take?"

"It took four years," he paused to take another drink. "The Magus had created a calendar and used it to determine which days were which. We knew which days were the holidays. Christmas wasn’t a huge celebration. Tom, Magus and the Princess would give us one gift each, and we would have another large meal."

"It does sound almost like how the humans celebrate it. What other gargoyle holidays are there?"

"Gargoyle holidays?" He stared into her golden eyes while the glowing bulb raised slightly on the long stalk in the cente of her forhead. "There are not many. There is the summer solstice, remeberance day, harvest moon, and a few that happen around every twenty years. Those are the breeders moon, the hatching night and the night of the first hunt. That is the night when the hatchlings go on a hunt without any adults with them. Yama had told me they phased that holiday out centuries ago."

"He had also mentioned a few others," Vahril said. "They are nights where they honor certain groups. There is one for hatchlings and elders and one for the females and a holiday where the celebrate the friendship between humans and gargoyles."

"I’m still learning about this world," he stared up at the sky, allowing his long mane of silky, white hair to cascade back. "What about you?"

Her white bumpy brows raised quesionaly. "Me?"

"Yeah. What about the holidays on your home planet? I remembered you said something when we were watching the winter Olympics last February. They reminded you of a holiday you celebrated around winter."

"Rhyska h’ali," she breathed wistfully. "That was our winter holiday and yes we had something like winter. Rhyska h’ali is like Christmas and Chanukah and the Olympics. There was a special flower that would only bloom around the cold season where I lived. It was the only flower growing at the time, but it came in nine different colors. Rhyska H’ali lasted for ten days. One day each for a different flower and the night of the final celebration. Each day of Rhyska h’ali the women of the family would wear a flower pinned to her hair and each day we wore a different color. The head matron of the family wore a tiara on her head. This tiara could hold all the flowers and each new day she would add another flower to her tiara."

"The head matron?" Gawain asked. "Is she like a mother?"

Vahril nodded. "The head matron is usually the mother. She could also be the grandmother or aunt. It’s depending on who was living in the family, or how many relatives had gathered for a holiday visit." She took a quick sip before she continued. "On each day the females would help the head matron prepare the breakfast for the rest of the family and bake and prepare the snack cakes. Not all these cakes were sweet, some were like spicey rice cakes and some were made from vegetables. We placed the cakes in a basket and took it with us when went to cheer on our squad’s athletes compete with the other squads of the sector."

"You explained squads are like clans or what the humans would consider sub divisions and a sector was a large section of your city?"

She nodded. "The size of a city was a factor in how many sectors there were and my city had eight with around six to eleven squads per sector. My sector had nine squads. Every day of the celebration my family would try to get as close as they can to one of the arenas and we would watch the games and cheer on our squad’s athletes. The arena was equipped with several screens so we could watch the events that occurred in the other arenas. Whenever one of us became hungry the head matron would hand out one of the snack cakes along with something to drink. At the end of the events, after the trophy’s were handed out we returned home. The head patron would hand out a small gift to everyone and received a small gift himself from the head matron."

"This head patron would be the father figure."

"That is correct. After we received our gifts the head matron would prepare the meal for that night and everyone who wanted to lend a hand was allowed. Each day of Rhyska h’ali was the same. At the end of the ninth day the champions were announced. On the tenth day we would find a large bag made of fine cloth and full of gifts outside our bedrooms. They were given by the head patron, although many of the family members purchased and made them. The head matron gave him his gift bag. We would eat a normal breakfast and gather in front of our home screen to watch the grand games take place near the center of the city. The champions from each sector would compete with each other. At the end of the last game we would go and attend an outdoor feast in the center of our squad." Hey eyes glistened over while her voice cracked.

Gaiwan felt even lower. He was avoiding Avalon and his clan for a few petty reasons and she was his friend who wishes she could visit her family, but could not. "Vahril I’m sorry."

"Don’t be," she wiped tears beading down her face. "I’m glad you asked. It brought up many memories, and memories are all I have left."

He let out a sigh. "It’s not that. I have been selfish. I’ll tell you the true reason why I didn’t want to visit Wyvern or Avalon. The Wyvern clan had a breeding season and from what I learned the Avalon clan are continuing."

"The females of Wyvern are expecting?"

He didn’t meet her gaze. "They are great with egg, including Cecilia. I wish her and Mercutio great happiness, but I-" He couldn’t finish his sentence.

Vahril watched how painful it was for him to talk. "You wish you could still be her mate and the father of her egg?" He nodded. She grabbed onto his arms. "I want to tell you there would be others but since they are breeding on your old home I know that is not quite true."

"Ophelia had chosen Gabriel shortly before the Archmage’s attack. I believe Elena and Barachiel are another couple and so are Jasmine and Uriel. Isoude would have either chosen Solomon or Raphael as her mate and Guinivere always had her eyes on Tristam."

"I believe the female beasts are out of the question."

"Defiantly," Gawain chuckled. "We speculated Lilac would have chosen Glaucus. Many of my rookery sisters were not interested in me, except for Cecilia, Nerissa and Teresa. I have already explained Cecilia and they have other males as an option. If I went home there would be five single males instead of four." He was sure two of them would be Saul and Ferdinand. They were more interested in each other. It seemed that way before he had left the island.

"There are many gargoyle clans," Varhil pointed at the sky. "They are not the only ones. There are many clans across the planet."

"Yama said something about them gathering here, but even if I asked I wouldn’t be able to find my mate. There are probably a few single males in each clan."

"What about someone who isn’t a gargoyle?"

The gargoyle sat up at the mention of the suggestion. There was always the possibility of a human. Goliath had chosen Elisa to be his mate and they were able to concieve. "I could fall for a human, or return to Avalon and woo a fae."

"Maybe even someone from another planet?" She couldn’t believe she asked that question. He might think she was interested in him. He wasn’t bad looking with well developed muscles and a strong jawline with a narrow chin and smile that created a dimple in each cheek. His oval shaped eyes were crowned by a thick tiara of cartilage with five spike like prongs, keeping his smooth white mane from falling into them. He was a warrior who tried to live by his code of honor. He may have been naive, but he wasn’t an idiot.

"I guess there are many possibilities." He noticed the way she was staring at him. "Why do you want me to find someone?"

"I want you to be happy. I want you to not feel they heavy burden wearing down your heart. I want you to not feel depressed when you think about your rookery siblings, but most important I want you to be happy."

"Why?" The question had barely left his lips when she pulled him close and brought her own lips against his. He felt the warmth of her body against him and took in the softness of her lips. She was beautiful in her own right with a tall and sleek indigo body and white hair gathered in long ropey white dreads. Her limbs had a good muscle tone and her agility had proven her to be an exceptional warrior. The long stalk in the center of her head ending in a glowing orb hightlighted her eyes. Of all her features he thought they were the most beautiful, long and black with golden iris’s and silver pupils. She wasn’t just attractive. She had possesed great intelligence and was kind and sweet. Of all the creatures he could fall in love with he was glad it was one of his friends. His own eyes closed as wrapped his arms around her in an embrace.