*     Chapter Two     *
                      (Perotessa continued)
     ...instantly began to fall.
     Demona screamed. Not in fright but in exultation.  "We're
home!"
     Cearda snapped her wings open shooting away into the
darkness. Iolair was slower in opening his spread.  At first the
sensation of falling had thrown him off.  Then Demona's scream.
But now that he knew that everything was alright, he opened his
wings and soared after Demona.
    Her face was split with the largest silliest smile he'd ever
seen.
     "Where are we?"
     "We're in * the (*) mountains.  Once we sail over that
ridge, you'll see our valley."
     "You have a whole valley?!"
     She laughed but said nothing else.
     Cearda was but a bright spot on the horizon dipping and
dodging in the evening sky.  Iolair saw the stranger first.  he
wondered if he should say anything when the stranger suddenly
closed his wings and dove.
     "CEARDA!" he screamed.  But he knew that he was too far away
to be heard.
     The stranger captured Cearda around her waist. She instantly
closed her wings and allowed herself to be dragged down. Iolair
watched the couple, glanced at Demona who didn't seem concerned,
and kept his peace.
    Cearda and her 'mate' fell quickly then pushed away from each
other.
     Both caught sperate updrafts then soared one on top of the
other. 
     "Who is that?" he asked finally.
     "His name is Krieger. He's Cearda's mate."
     Iolair's jaw dropped. "Mate?  But I thought..."
     "What she was unmated?" Demona laughed amused. "No, she has
a mate. He's very young and immature but he has promise.  And
he's completely devoted to her; as she is  to him." she shook her
head a bit puzzled.
     "They....love...each other.  Truly love each other. I've
never seen a pair-bond like it before."
     She shook herself out of her revile. She pointed, "There! 
There's the clan!" Gargoyles of every imaginable shape and size
and color appeared from caves, rocks and outcroppings. They
cheered and waved.
     Iolair braked in the air, slipping behind Demona in a
protected maneuver. He didn't want to be mobbed again. Demona
came down for a light landing. Her clan instantly surrounded her.
     Words of exclamation and questions of her well being filled
the air.  She answered every question, touched anyone who wanted
to be touched, and greeted everyone personally. Just as she was
finishing up, Cearda and Krieger appeared and the whole process
repeated itself.
    Now that she was reunited with her mate, Cearda glowed.  Her
arms were wound around his waist.  Krieger, Iolair quickly
realized was not a *small* gargoyle.  IT wasn't just that he was
tall but he was massive.  A muscle bound cretin was his first
impression, but Krieger was too light on his feet.  
     At almost seven feet tall, Krieger exuded prescience.  It
was amazing that Cearda wasn't swallowed up by him but she had
her own presence which was greater than Krieger's.  Cearda's
young mate took after her at least physically in the fact that he
had a very unusual color:  Gold.  Not sparkly gold but yellowed
bone gold.  Iolair had never seen a gold gargoyle before.  Then
again he'd never seen a red-gold gargoyle before Cearda either.
     Krieger's most intriguing feature though were his wings. 
They folded. Completely folded and rested against his back. 
Iolair had never seen wings like that either.  Cearda nuzzled her
face into Krieger's long black hair, becoming lost in it.
     Demona watched the couple then held out her arms for
silence. The clan quickly obeyed. "My faithful!  We have
returned; our sabbatical successful!  We return to you rested,
refreshed, and whole.  We bring Iolair Shelton to the clan. 
Iolair has proven himself trustworthy and loyal.  He has also
proven himself worthy to fly on Cearda's left side.  Welcome
him."
     Slowly the clan turned to study the newest member of Clann
na ochter oidhche bheithir.
     "Hi."  blurted Iolair.
     "Greetings." answered a young female.  She looked Iolair
over then held out her hand. "I am Char."
    Iolair gladly took her hand.  He could feel the other
gargoyle's eyes on him, but tried not to let it phase him.
     Demona noticed Char. "Youngling, would you see to Iolair's
integration into the clan?"
     "I would be honored, My Queen."
     Demona nodded.  She would have continued her speech if it
wasn't for a piercing shriek, "MOMMY!"
     Iolair whirled and saw a small girl (human) no older than
three summers old streak across the meeting ground and throw
herself into Demona's arms.
     More surprising still was Demona's reaction. She picked the
girl up, whirled her around then hugged her tightly. "How's my
girl?  You been good?" she asked.
     The girl stuffed her thumb in her mouth and nodded
vigorously. "Been gud, Ma'ma!  Yirena a gud girl."
     The red maned human hater smiled and kissed the girl's
bright golden hair. "Wha?"
    Char giggled at Iolair's confusion. "That's Yirena.  Demona
found her about three years ago abandoned; left to die.  For some
reason she didn't kill her." Char shrugged. "Com, I can see
you've an egg.  We'll put it in the rookery. Then you have _got_
to meet Bogamil!"
     Iolair's head was spinning, "Bogamil?  Who's that?"
     Char grinned, "You'll see."
     Char showed him the rookery, a cave with such a narrow mouth
that he had trouble entering.  But once inside he gasped.  All
around him laying on the floor were gargoyle eggs.
     "Wow!"
     "They are the future of the clan." said Char softly. "Go
ahead Iolair, put yours down.  Nothing can harm them here."
     With trembling hands, Iolair fished out Tigris and Laser
Ice's egg and put it with the others.  It looked pitifully small
next to the others.
     "When will they hatch?"
     "Soon. Come, I am sure Demona will want to have a big hunt
to celebrate her return.  You really have to meet Bogamil."
     He followed her out of the cave.
     She spread her wings, took a running start and was flung
into the sky.  "Come on Iolair!" she urged. He copied her
movement and soon found himself gliding on a tremendous updraft.
    Char lead him to away to the east.  When she signaled for him
to land he waited till she was down before joining her.
     "Where are we?" he asked confused.
     "Bogamil's cave. Come quietly." she stressed.
     Carefully, she clamored inside, caped her wings and looked
around.  The sound of water dripping, the howl of the wind, and a
deep thrum were the only greeting they got.
     "BOGAMIL!" yelled Char. "Bogamil!  Where are you?  It's me,
Char!"
     The thrumming stopped, then: "Char?" 
     A deep huffing sound.  "And a stranger.  Does this mean
Demona has returned?"
     Char motioned to Iolair to follow her. "Yes.  I brought the
New One to meet you."
     There was a scraping sound then the clatter of falling
rocks.  "Good, I like company.  Have you told him about me?"
     "No,  not yet." she answered.  Grinning she turned to a very
bewildered Iolair. "Iolair, I am pleased to present you to
Bogamil the Red Dragon of Isht."
     Eyes wide, Iolair turned.
     And saw from around an outcropping of rocks a red head.  A
horse's head. A chestnut horse with a lightening jag of a blaze
down his face.
     The horse snorted then came out from behind the rock.
     "Helloa.  I am Bogamil."
     "I thought you were a dragon?"
     The stallion tossed his head amused. "I am.  Come look into
the pool."
     Iolair followed the horse to a shallow pool and looked at
the reflected images. One his own and the other...A large
towering red dragon with a lightening jag down his face.
     Iolair looked at the horse then back at the dragon in the
pool.
     "I don't wear the dragon shape all the time." said Bogamil.
     "Sometimes I am an eagle, sometimes a red dog, sometimes I
wear the man shape."
     The red stallion turned to Char, "Well if Demona's back
she'll want to celebrate. Would it be too much to ask that you
bring me back a scrap of food?"
     Char rolled her eyes, "Bogamil, you know you don't even need
ask!"
     "Well the last ones to beg my protection were very
forgetful. I finally had to eat them.  It never hurts to ask. 
So, it doesn't have to be anything choice just a little meat is
all I ask."
     Char gave him an exasperated look. "You know Demona
personally will bring you back a whole cow, Bogamil!"
     The red stallion tossed Iolair an amused look. "I like to
pull her tail." he confided. 
     "Welcome to the clan Iolair, welcome."
                   *     Eagle of Arabia     *
     The remainder of the evening was anything but dull. He met
many gargoyles, from different lands, with different stories to
tell. Char showed him their demesne. However, she lost track of
Iolair as morning neared. The first lights of day were already in
the sky when she found him.
     He was seated on a rock, facing the direction of the rising
sun. His head was in his hands, which rested on his knees. He had
a quiet, thoughtful look on his face.
     "There you are."
     "A pleasant morning to you, sister." He smiled, as he turned
to greet her.
     "Why so thoughtful?"
     He turned back to the approaching dawn. "I apologize if I
seem to be distracted. I just lost someone... very dear to me."
     "I'm sorry."
     Iolair shrugged, and was quiet for a moment.
     "We wanted to go to the Paris Opera House, and watch the
moon rise. Neither of us had parents, but Christine was like my
mother, Cassandra was hers, and so we talked about eloping. We
were only seven... I might not ever see her wake up. She might be
asleep long after I'm gone."
     Char seemed to nod with understanding. She said nothing,
only nodded. Iolair stood, and followed her. She was following a
small trail across the mountaintop, back to their home, when she
suddenly stopped.
     Standing aside Char, Iolair saw a girl in her midteens
standing in the center of the trail, human.
     She looked disdainfully at Iolair.
     "I was going to warn to you. She wanted to be with you!
There would have been an easier way." she said. "But you insist
of hating the humans for what your father did to her, and so you
choose this harder lesson."
     Char appeared ready to disembowel the little human girl with
the snarling voice, but Iolair held her back.
     "If what you say is true, Cassandra, then why did she marry
Laser Ice?"
     But the child had vanished, somehow.
     "Who was that?"
     "My keeper." Iolair sighed. He slipped down into the brush,
and found a white colored flower among the bushes. He
concentrated on it for a moment, until the flower began to glow.
He lifted it over his head, and slowly the flower rose into the
air. "Flower, return this to it's master. It was wrongly taken."
     He watched it vanish into the sunrise. As Cassandra regained
her powers, Iolair and Char were stone.

     When Iolair and Char appeared before Demona several nights
later, there was another new gargoyle there, one that neither
Iolair nor Char recognized. She was a deep green color, with
double spread wings. She was beautiful, dressed in velvet, with
many items of gold jewelry. She had long curly black hair, and
liquid blue eyes. Demona seemed to be standing beside this new
one as the two gargoyles entered Demona's presence. Iolair had
spent his last several night becoming familiar with the pattern
of life among this clan, and he was already determined to learn
as much wood lore, magic, and battle skills as he could during
his sojourn. 
     "This is Char." Demona introduced the girl to the visitor.
     "Fond greetings to you, Char."
     "And this is Iolair."
     "We've met." she replied. She blew a wisp of fire from her
lips, which wrapped around her finger for a moment before fading.
     Iolair smiled. "Hello, Tanya." He extended his paw to her.
     Instead of taking his hand, this older gargoyle put her arms
around Iolair. Iolair was startled, but returned the gesture.
     "Why are you here?"
     "Cassandra said I could finally drop in." she said, and
turned to Demona. "*AND* news of the Hunter."
     Demona looked at her suspiciously, turned, and took Char and
Iolair aside. "Iolair, I must know if she can be trusted."
     "Certainly not, my queen. She is half fay, reason enough.
She has only one form, the gargoyle, and she is mortal. However,
she breathes fire, bears viper's fangs, and the power to
transverse time and space with a thought comes natural to her.
Personally, I do not wish to go on another such masquerade. I do
not know if she means good or ill. When did she arrive?"
     "This night as I awoke. She asked to see you first."
     "She is Tanya Destine Phantom. I recommend we do not cross
her." Iolair warned. "My niece."
     Demona scowled and nodded, turning back to the green
gargoyle. "Give me your news."
                      *     Perotessa     *
     Tanya flickered her wings then drawled, "The Hunter is out
and about.  In fact from my information, he's in the village
right below you." Demona growled softly. "That's not good.  He's
probably looking for information to lead him to us."
     Iolair's mind filled with images of Demona leading a
contingent of fierce gargoyle warriors down to the village.  Of
the gargoyles setting fire to the town and killing anything that
moved.
     "We'll send Bogamil." said Demona finally.
     Iolair's dreams shattered. "Hu?....What?!  Bogamil!"
     Demona turned to Iolair with a slight (superior) look on her
face. "Of course.  Bogamil is a shapechanger and he has sworn to
protect us.  Who better to go and find out if the Hunter will be
a threat or not."
     Iolair's jaw worked but he said nothing else.
     "Thank you for your news." said Demona.
     Tanya looked at Iolair, winked, then completely winked out
of existence.
     Demona shook her head upon seeing that then looked up at the
night sky. "CEARDA!"
     Three heart beats went by then out of nowhere streaked the
sunset colored gargoyle.  She landed lightly then went down on
one knee in front of her Queen.  A moment later, her young mate
also landed and copied her gesture.
     "Ah, Cearda and Krieger. Very good.  I have had word.  The
Hunter is in the village.  We need someone to go down and see if
he is stirring up any trouble.  I have decided that someone shall
be Bogamil. I want you to go and ask him to go to the village."
     Cearda looked up, a sly grin on her face. "We shall go
directly, my Queen."
     She rose and much like Char the other night opened her
*feathered* wings and was tossed into the air.  Krieger was just
a moment behind her after tossing Demona a sassy grin of his own.
     Demona snorted and started to turn away, confident that her
request would be fulfilled.  Iolair took a step toward her then
stopped. She had made her decision.  No gargoyles would be going
to the village.
     "Come on Iolair, excitement is done for tonight." said Char.
He looked at his companion then shrugged and followed her into
the night.

     All night long, Char tried to occupy Iolair's mind.  She
introduced him to other members of the clan.  Other members who
told him about how Demona had appeared out of no where to join
their clan.  He learned that this clan used to live in Bren a
small city in Switzerland.  But that the humans turned upon them
and began to kill them.  Demona returned after a year long
banishment, rallied the clan, and advised them to flee. Now they
lived here in the Truif mountains, safe from humans; guarded by
the dragon.  If it wasn't for Demona they would be dead and their
children with them.
     As the hour grew late, the sun threatened to make his
appearance Char crouched close to Iolair. "What's wrong?"
     Iolair tore the petals off a flower then tossed the remnants
to the ground.
     "I just don't agree with Demona's decision to send Bogamil."
     "Why not?"
     "The Hunter is a gargoyle problem!  He should be handled by
gargoyles!"
     Char bit her lip and pondered his point. "Maybe...But Demona
knows what she's doing.  She's sending Bogamil because he's a
shapechanger. He'll be able to go down in the shape of say a red
dog, find out what the Hunter is up to, and return without being
noticed."
     Iolair whipped his wings closed. "I still think a gargoyle
should have gone." he said sulkily.  Then he brightened. "In
fact, I don't see why one can't go."
     "What are you talking about?"
     "I'll go!  Tomorrow night. I'll go down and see the Hunter
for myself. I've never seen the Hunter!" he said excitedly. "I've
only seen his disciples but this might be fun."
     "Iolair!  No, you can't!  Demona sent Bogamil!  You have to
trust her in this."
     "Oh I do. But I still want to go!"
     Char opened her mouth to continue her argument but the sun
rose and the gargoyles were turned to stone.

     The next evening Demona broke out of her stone skin roaring. 
She wiped off the last of the dust then turned to look at Cearda. 
As was typical for her when she was with Krieger, Cearda was in
his arms telling him naughty things.
     He was responding by running his hands over her *hot spots*.
Demona groaned in disgust. "Cearda!"
     The beaked gargoyle broke away from her mate a bit guiltily. 
"What?"
     "You can have him paw you later.  Right now we have to wait
for Bogamil's report."
     Cearda nodded and moved away from Krieger.  But before she
did, she trailed a few feathers under his nose and tickled him
with her tail.
     She moved to stand at Demona's right side and wait for
Bogamil.
     "Cearda, I'm kinda concerned about Iolair."
     Surprised the beaked gargoyle glanced at her leader, "Why?"
     "He didn't seem very enthusiastic about my decision to send
Bogamil last night."
     "And when has that ever bothered you before?" snorted
Cearda.
     "Never," answered Demona, "But this time its different. 
Iolair is a young male gargoyle. He's liable to do something
rash."
     "Like what?"
     "I-"
     "All hail Demona! Queen of gargoyles!" Called down a voice
from above.  The two gargoyles looked up and saw the red dragon
is Isht, Bogamil.  The large creature folded his wings then came
down for a pin-point landing. 
     "Halloa!" he greeted them.
     Demona stepped forward. "Greetings Bogamil!  Any news?"
     The red dragon shook his head, his great mane falling into
disarray. "Aye, I've news. Yes, the Hunter is down below.  And
no, he doesn't know that there are gargoyles in the mountains. 
You can thank the suspicious humans for that.  They don't trust
him.  He should be gone soon without even a crumb to tell him
anything.  But I do think it would be best to stay away from that
side of the mountain for a while."
     Demona nodded.  "Thank you Bogamil. Thank you very much."
     "Good...good." said Bogamil. "Well I'll be going now. Have a
little hunting to do." he spread his humongous wing span then
turned and hurled himself into the night sky.
     Demona turned away and looked at Cearda shrugging. "You're
my right hand Cearda. It's up to you to tell the others about the
Hunter and to stay away from the village."
     Cearda saluted, "Right away my Queen."
     Demona watched her go; Krieger falling into step beside her,
his hand riding her waist.  Demona shook her head. Now that was a
couple in lust!

     Char woke fearing that Iolair would leap away once his stone
skin has broken off.  She needn't have worried. He was stretching
to his full height and width when she could see again.
     "Iolair?"
     He folded his wings and looked at her questioningly.
     "Are you really going to go?"
     He nodded. "I am kinda excited about the whole thing!  I'll
be careful; he'll never see me unless I want him too.  I just
want to know what he's doing here."
     Char rolled her eyes, "That should be obvious!  He's looking
for gargoyles. As long as he doesn't see one he'll probably
leave. I am surprised though.  Why did he come here?"
     "Only one way to find out." Iolair walked toward the ledge
and prepared to glide down to the village.
     "WAIT!  You don't know where the village is...." Char
reminded him, then: "And if you get into trouble, you'll need
someone to stand by your side." She sighed heavily. "I'll go with
you.  Someone has to keep you out of trouble."
     Iolair grinned, spread his wings and leaped into the night.
                   *     Eagle of Arabia     *
     They sailed low, by Iolair's lead, and soon came to rest at
the edge of a small human village.
     "The things I do..." Chat muttered offhandedly in complaint.
Iolair stalked low, on all fours, around the back of the huts and
home, looking for any sign of life. Char followed, nervous,
expecting the hunter to suddenly leap out of the ground like a
thing undead and skewer Iolair alive. She was relieved as this
did not happen.
     "Don't look so jittery." Iolair noted, looking over his
shoulder at her, his tail swinging almost idly. "I'm not stupid
enough to go looking for trouble."
     "It's stupid to disobey Demona like this."
     His brow furrowed. "When did she say that?"
     "Didn't Cearda tell you after Bogamil returned?"
     Iolair's reply was a bewildered expression. Char sighed.
They had left before Cearda could come and knock some sense into
him.

     *the author smirks*

     Iolair blinked. "Very well then. Give me a moment, and we
can return."
     Iolair muttered again for a moment about gargoyles dealing
with the hunter, as he looked around. Char straightened a moment,
and watched him put his ears up to a building.
     "Ah, but if you have monsters and other creatures in your
mountains, then I am just the questor you need to rid you of such
demons."
     "There is a dragons living in a lake far in the mountains
near here. He steals and eats cattle, a little at a time."
     "Ah, then my task here among this tribe is clear."
     "Whatever you want, but just get out of this village."
     "Once I am done ridding you of this Demon, you will thank
me."
     "Whatever you want, stranger. Just remove yourself from this
place."
     Iolair suddenly stepped away from the wall, with an amazed
look on his face. He stuck his paws in his mouth, and danced
around in a funny away, twirling around with his tail trailing
behind him. "Oooooh oh oh oh! This is too good!"
     "What?"
     "The hunter... a dragon in a lake... Bogamil... oh oh
ooooh!"
     "Iolair, make sense."
     "The hunter is hunting a dragon in a lake in the mountains.
If Bogamil would... oh oh ooooooh! We could set a trap for the
hunter! All we need do is get the gargoyles..." He trailed off,
turning back to bewildered Char. "But first, we must ask Demona."
     "She'll skin you alive if you let her know you went into the
village when she forbade us not to."
     "Puh! I didn't know..." he replied defensively, but stopped
himself. "She's been wanting to do that for a while, anyway."
     Char scowled. How did Demona put up with him?
     Suddenly, there was the swoosh of a knife blade through the
air. Iolair snapped under the brush, and scurried madly away.
Char ran after. The cloaked figure behind them could not follow
two dark gargoyles scurrying away on a moonless night. Yet, he
ran after the sound, sword in hand. Char bounded after Iolair by
foot, until she suddenly tripped over Iolair's leg, and he pulled
her quickly inside a small cave in the hillside. Iolair shushed
her, and they sat quietly for a few moments until they heard
footsteps run past the cave mouth, moving on past.
     Iolair smiled, as his eyes picked his way through the cave.
"My, now wasn't *that* fun?"
     Char shook her head and followed. How does Demona put up
with him?
     A sudden blast filled the chamber. Iolair dashed behind
char, back toward the cave entrance, but it was too late. Char
was thrown backwards, deep into the cave. Iolair, realizing he
was too late, flared his wings to ward off the falling rocks.
However, he was overcome and buried.
     Char heard him yelp.
     Char heard the human laugh.

     Bogamil watched the human return to the huts when the moon
was low. The Hunter wore a smirk. Then, the Hunter fell into
Bogamil's trap.
     Oh, Iolair's trap had been a good idea. Bogamil had suddenly
had a better idea.
     The villagers, riled with anger, turned on the masked man,
and began to throw stones at him. Bogamil smirked, changed into a
red striped dog, and loped away into the night.

     Char pulled the gargoyle from the mess with all her
strength. She tossed him down onto the stones, wondering if she
would have to nursemate him.
     He groaned, and stirred. He rubbed the back of his head.
"I'm alright... mostly."
     "Good. I wasn't about to carry you anywhere after you got me
into this." she replied, with a slight smile.
     Iolair pushed himself onto all fours, shook the dust off
himself, and moved his wings and tail, looking for anything
broken.
     "Just bruised." Iolair reported.
     "Takes a lick'n and keeps on tick'n." Chat laughed. "Com'n,
there's a passageway down this tunnel that I know of. I used to
play down here before I was initiated to become a warrior."
     "Ah." Iolair nodded. "Your old haunt."
     "Something like that. How did you find it?"
     "I saw it, hidden in the brush."
     "Then the Hunter must have also. Uh oh." Char became
suddenly concerned.
     "What is it?" Iolair asked, his wings opened slightly.
     "The left passage has been blocked. The right I know is a
dead end."
     "What are you saying."
     Chat leaned against a wall, and slid down onto the floor.
"We're trapped."
                      *     Perotessa     *
     "Trapped my hind foot." sneered Iolair.  "Are we not 'One
with the Stone?'"
     "What the hell are you talking about?" asked Char with a
puzzled look on her face.  "Who told you that?"
     Iolair had the grace to look a little sheepish. "I've always
believed that. I mean when you think about it, it should be true,
right?"
     Char shook her head. 
     Iolair growled softly. "Ok, show me this other passage way."
     Char pointed.
     "Now watch.  I'll show that I am right."
     He sank is claws deeply into the stone then pulled.  A hunk
of rock fell away.
     "See!" he crowed victorious.
     "Ok, mister conqueror of stone.  What do we do when we get
out?  The hunter is still outside you know."
     Iolair paused for a heartbeat, then said nonchalantly, "I
know...Don't worry about it.  Everything's going to be fine."
     Char rolled her eyes and squatted down on her heels.
     Let the large *galoot* throw rocks around. She would
conserve her air supply.

     Demona, with her *daughter* Yirena cradled in her arms,
scanned the night sky anxiously.  Out of the darkness came a pale
flash of gold; Krieger.  Then at his left shoulder the orange
shape that was Cearda. Demona's second in command flicked her
wings closed; fell like a stone then landed at Demona's feet.
     "You didn't find him?" she asked.
     Cearda shook her head. "No, my Queen.  He's nowhere to be
found.  There is a disturbance at the humans village."
     "You don't think he would have gone there, do you?"
     Cearda stood up, looked Demona in the eyes and slowly nodded
her head.
     "Yes. I do.  He felt pretty strongly about your decision to
send Bogamil to the village."
     Demona growled.  Yirena wiggled to be let down. "Curse his
eyes!  I thought you said we could trust him!"
     Cearda patted Yirena on the head as she trotted off to play
in the caves. "We can trust him.  But you have to remember. He's
still young and prone to making decisions like this.  He'll be
fine."
     "He might but Char is with him. She has no magic; none of
the clan do!"
     Cearda flicked a lock of her pale hair over her shoulder. "I
know that. Trust him, my Queen. You might be surprised."
     Demona gave Cearda a narrow look. "You know where he is."
she accused.
     Nonplused Cearda began to preen one of her wings. "Yes, I
do."
     "And why didn't you tell me!"
     "If he's in trouble it's for him to get out of.  Trust me."
     That stopped Demona cold.  She shut her mouth.  It wasn't
often that Cearda asked her to trust her.  Trust  was an unspoken
agreement between them.  She gave Cearda a long look then stiffly
nodded. "Alright.  But if he brings trouble to the clan-"
     Cearda cloaked her wings.  Since they were larger than the
*normal* gargoyles, they didn't come up over her shoulders.
Instead they went around her upper arms and fastened low over her
breasts. "He'll bring trouble to the clan.  That's what he does. 
But he'll learn an important lesson from it.  Be patience. Watch
and learn."
     Demona uncaped her own wings and glared at her Second. "
'Watch and learn.' " she mocked.  "Sure, and watch another clan
get wiped out!  I don't think-"
     "Helloa Demona!  Queen of Gargoyles!"
     Demona turned and saw a large red dog come trotting up. A
talking red dog.
     "Bogamil!  What are you doing here?"
     "Came to give you word. The Hunter has been forced from the
village. You've nothing to worry about."
     Demona blinked then turned to give Cearda a questioning
glance. She shrugged.
     Demona turned back to Bogamil.  "Thank you for the word,
Bogamil.  Is every thing else well in the village?"
     "Right as rain.  Of course we never would have  been able to
get rid of the Hunter if it wasn't for that new young one;
Iolair."
     Demona's voice quavered, "Oh, really?"
     Bogamil sat down; scratched at a flea. "Yes.  But you'll see
what I mean when he returns.  I best be going.  The Hunter
expects to find a dragon in the next valley so I mustn't
disappoint him." he gave both gargoyles a canine grin then
trotted down the mountain  path.
     "What do you make of that?" Demona asked Cearda.
     The Red-Gold Gargoyle of Byzanthium gave her a mysterious
look, "Wait and see."

     Meanwhile in the cave...

     Iolair blew a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. "Hey,
Char!  Come here a minute!"
     Char, who had been drawing patterns on the cave's floor
slowly entered the shallow tunnel. "What?"
     "I think I feel a breeze. Why don't you scoot on in here and
see if you can feel it."
     Char gave him a skeptical look then slowly, carefully moved
into the tunnel and raised herself up to try and feel any type of
breeze.
     "Nothing." she said dully.
     Iolair grinned. "Well, as long as you're in there, why don't
you do a little work?"
     Char whirled around her wings flaring, they were obstructed
by the rock walls and doubled over. "What?!  Why you-!"
     Iolair quickly slapped his hand over her mouth. A merry,
wicked twinkle in his eyes, "Shhhhh!  We don't want the Hunter to
hear us!"
     He cocked his head. "In fact, I don't think that will be our
biggest worry..."
     Char pulled his hand from her mouth. "What are you talking
about?!" she demanded.
     Then she too felt it. 
     "Oh No!!!" she wailed.
     Outside the sun rose. Though unseen, she turned to stone.
                   *     Eagle of Arabia     *
     The hunter, sore and angry, entered the Valley of the
Crystal Lake. He'd show those miserable peasants what was really
going on here. There was little to be seen in the valley, but he
knew any dragon or gargoyle would be well hidden.
     The sun had set by the time that he found the lake -- it was
well hidden in the hills. The hunter drew his sword, and began
his search. He spoke a few choice spells to draw his quarry to
him.
     For a moment, the hunter paused, thinking he'd heard
something. All was silent, but he had that unmistakable feeling
of someone breathing down his neck.
     He turned.
     The red dragon snapped at his quarry, and came away with a
mouthful of cape. The Hunter slung his sword about, as Bogamil
spat his cape out and came after him again.
     All at once, the valley was filled with a thousand screams
of angry gargoyles.
     The hunter cursed. He'd been drawn into a trap!
     The light blue gargoyle he'd been hunting all these years
perched on a tree above he advancing gargoyles, eyes red.
     "YOU! My family will return twice as strong, and they will
finish you, monsta'!"
     "But you will not be there to see it." she said in a voice
smoothe as butter voice.
     The gargoyles leapt, and the red firedrake advanced upon
him, and the battle ensued.
     The gold gargoyle of Byzanthium, however, was not focused on
the battle, but rather her eyes were turned to the hills,
waiting.
     A low rumbling filled the land. Rocks moved, and all the
creatures were thrown to the ground. The sound of an explosion
rocked the land, and it's percussion hit all. A brilliant red
flare illuminated the coming night.
     Demona silently cursed. She'd always known about one or two
active volcanoes along this chain, but they'd been silent for an
eternity! Why today? Why when her dreams were near fulfillment?
     Demona leapt for the Hunter, who was still reacting to the
volcanic eruption. Just before Demona could touch him with her
talons, he dodged under the dazed gargoyles, and fled.
     The demon-gargoyle cursed, and followed. She would not loose
him now! Not while he was still so close!

     In the eternal darkness of the cave, there was a sudden
light, spreading like a web across the surface of two frozen
gargoyles. They roared, one high and screeching like a great
raptor, and one the cat-like snarl of a great cat. Somehow,
Cearda had left his cry the same.
     Both sudden clasped their throats, and collapsed, choking.
     Both wheezed and sputtered in the air. Iolair struggled to
see. He wished he still had his falcon's eyes which could pierce
any darkness. All his darkness-eyes could see was smoke and
swirling vapors. However, beyond it there was a slight red glow
coming from where they had been working.
     Iolair took Char in arm, and began to drag her from the
piles of stone that had accumulated about their feet during the
day. "Got to go... poison gas..."
     Char was hacking so harshly that her reply was
unintelligible. They stumbled from that cavern.
     Retreating back to the place where they had first entered
and the entrance blocked, both collapsed onto the bed of stone in
exhaustion.

     Demona snarled in frustration. She scoured the land, looking
for him, testing the air, trying to track him down. He'd simply
vanished. In utter anger, Demona went back to her clan.

     The heat had risen tremendously in the last few minutes, and
the gargoyles in the cave were panting for breath.
     "Something... is consuming... the air..." he observed.
     Char only nodded.
     There was a rumbling in the ground, like the wake of a large
explosion the ceiling damaged in the blast from the Hunter's
black powder, collapsed onto of the two gargoyles.
     Iolair threw himself on top of Char, as the stone piled on
top of them.
     Under the piles of stones, Char felt Iolair sprawled atop
her, and her feel him breath brushing her face. The male gargoyle
suddenly peeled back, and forced the stone from atop him.
     He was not successful at first.
     "The whole hillside...   may have just come down... on
us..." he panted.
     Char nodded in the dark. "Will you please... get *off*
me...?!!!"
     Iolair snarled at her, and tried to force the stones from
off him again. "You're so *romantic*." he sneered.
     "Huh." she snorted.
     On his third try, the stones rolled away into the cave.
Iolair clawed his way out of nearly twenty feet of fallen rock. A
lot of the rock fell down on Char, but Iolair was now too
disgusted at her thankless nature to help. She angrily forced her
own way out.
     The were both starting to choke again.
     "The gas is pouring in here, a gas from deep within the
stone you come from that can only poison your wretched kind." A
voice echoed down the hall.
     Iolair stiffened. "YOU!" he snarled.
     "Pentric Oxidous Acid, as the alchemists call it. A very
rare gas which penetrates molten rocks from beneath the
mountains."
     "What, doesn't your kind believe this world is flat, still?"
     "Look at the horizon and tell me it is not." the figure
barely visible in the darkness and gasses was saying. He drew the
mask from his face, and let his black hair tumble down.
     "Samuel Kanmore." Iolair breathed. "Have you come... to
sample the death... I unleashed on you... once before?"
     "Think quickly before you threaten me, Matthew. You may have
a proper gargoyle's skull, but are still as forgetful as a bird.
Look around you! I, by sorcery see ye like the brightness of day,
but ye can hardly see me! The gas will build up in your lungs,
and eat them away. It will purify this mountains and all it's
passages within hours of your filthy kind!"
     "How is it possible... for an acid not... to eat at a
human?" Char breathed.
     "Humans... come from the water,... Gargoyles come from the
stone... eat has it's bane... some water-based poisons... do not
work on gargoyles...  while some sulfuric fumes... kill our kind.
Just as... dragonsbane kills only a dragon."
     "Your kind indeed." the Kanmore scoffed. "You could have
been my son! Together we could have rid the universe of the
creatures that cast you out!"
     "No!..." Iolair exclaimed, fighting to keep his strength.
"You will never... bring death... to my clan!"
     He flared his wings in the small cave, and flung himself at
the human. The hunter's sword was drawn, and the battle was met.
     "Come, be humanly reasonable for a moment. I know you, out
of all your filthy kind, know how. You know you are only delaying
the inevitable. I know about those eggs, and I will destroy them
all!"
     "Never! I died for those eggs!" he exclaimed. "You will
die... tonight!"
     "As will you, you fool."
     They struggled over the Hunter's sword for a moment. Iolair
delivered a hard fisted blow to the hunter's chest, and slashed
deep lacerations into his side.
     "They will never accept you here! Come back with me, I will
give you back your old life! You owe these thankless monsters
nothing!"
     "I owe them... my service!" he panted, and the hunter railed
lacerations into Iolair's thick flesh. "Grarh! We are no
monsters! You humans are the monsters! Only humans... *wheeze* 
would slaughter helpless... unborn children!"
     "What did gargoyle do for you that makes you want to be one
so?"
     "I... *cough* am the Iolair liviano, Iolair Shelton!...
*cough*,... and I do not go back on my oaths! I made an oath to
the Demon-Gargoyle when I was young, even if she doesn't yet know
it."
     "It will be a millennia before she ever does."
     "Then I... will wait!"
     Iolair spun over the Hunter's head, nearly taking his head
off, but the Hunter's sword nearly sliced the arm off.
     "You are a traitor to all mankind!"
     "At least I do not betrayed life and light!" Iolair returned
strongly, as he finally collapsed on the floor.
     There was a sickened sound, as the Hunter's sword sliced
through the fallen gargoyle's heart.
     Then the sound came again, as Char's dagger penetrated the
Hunter's skull.
     He feel to the ground in a pool of blood.

     "What on earth do you mean? The Hunter escaped!" Demon
protested.
     "The Hunter did not escape." Cearda reaffirmed. "Iolair and
Char have seen to his death."
     "I don't believe it!" Demona snarled in outrage. "The hunter
is *my* prey! Iolair has no place...!"
     "Iolair is dead."
     Demona stopped. "What?"
     "Iolair lost his life in that battle. Char's is still in
jeopardy."
     Demona leapt. "Then we must find her!"
     "Nay! Only Iolair may save her now."
     Demona was exasperated. "You just told me he is dead!"
     "A force greater than eternity extends his life. It will
continue to do so until he finally learns and ceases to be the
child he is. Upon the next nightfall, he will rescue Char. Until
then, we must remove our people from these caverns."
     Demona swallowed her snarl. "Very well then." She glanced at
Cearda with suspicion, but began to follow her words without
further question.

     Char was not sure why she couldn't bring herself to feel
disgusted at Iolair for all his blustering which had wound up in
his death.
     No doubt the Hunter had sealed his entrance, sealing both he
and the gargoyles in this cavern. Char returned to where the
gasses poured and the air was sucked away, trying to find the way
of escape.
     Barely able to stand the heat and gasses, she found a single
crack in the way Iolair had been striving to cut through. There
was a single ray of red light emanating there. Char curled a fist
of pain in her chest, and slammed her way through the rock. It
gave way under her angry force.
     Suddenly, the rock beneath Char gave way, opening out into a
large cavern, filled with oozing liquid stone. She suddenly
grabbed for the stone, trying to keep herself out of the pit. The
stone around her fell into the river of heat.
     Char cried out. The stone she had sunk her talons into began
to crack and give way.
     Char screamed.

     Cearda nodded. "One night, one night alone. Tigris and
Iolair will be together."
                      *     Perotessa     *
     Char screamed...then felt her wrist shackled.
     She looked up and saw the widely smiling face of Krieger,
     Cearda's mate and faithful follower. "Well," he chortled.
"Looks like you're in a spot of trouble."
     "Krieger!  Pull me up!  Pull me up!!"
     Krieger braced himself and leaned back upon his haunches.
"Right away m'Lady."
     Char folded her wings and tried not to struggle too much as
she was pulled out of the hellish abyss.
     Krieger raised her then set her down on her feet.
     She threw her arms around him. "Oh!  I was so frightened!"
     Krieger grunted, seeing Iolair's slain form. "Well it's a
good thing I glided by.  Come, we must get out of here.  I am
sure Demona won't like this."
     Char let her elder go then glanced at Iolair's form.  "He
really was a fool wasn't he?" she asked.
     Krieger grinned. "You mean he *is* a fool!  Cearda told me
to come get you.  And you know when she tells me to do
something..."
     "You do it!" chuckled Char.  She took hold of Iolair's legs,
while Krieger bent then picked up the slain gargoyle and slung
him over his shoulder out of the way of his wings. 

     (Author's note:  Krieger's wing structure has NOT been
finalized at this juncture.  So for now, he will have the
*normal* wing placement until his creator comes up with his final
design.)

     Char glared at the corpse of the hunter. "Do you think
Demona wants proof?"
     Krieger nodded once. "Get his sword and then chop off his
head. I am sure She'll want to hang it up as a trophy."
     Char smiled slightly and did as directed.  Finished, she
hung the head from her belt and tossed the rest of the body into
the lava stream.
     "Roast in the pit of hell where you belong demon." she
snarled.
     "good for you!" crowed Krieger. He flared his wings, caught
an updraft and soared off to rejoin the other gargoyles of his
clan.  Char behind him.

     Demona was waiting for them.  When she saw the head of the
Hunter hanging from Char's belt she eagerly waited for it to be
given to her.  A task that Char couldn't get done swiftly enough.
She held the skull overhead, eyes glowing like red embers, wings
flared out triumphantly
     "BEHOLD!  ONE HUNTER IS DEAD!  OUR GENERATION IS SAFE! 
REJOICE!  WE ARE NO LONGER PURSUED!!!"
     A huge cheer arose from clan.  Demona smiled then laughed
delightedly.  "How did you do it?!" she asked excitedly.
     Krieger laid the form of Iolair on the ground at her feet.
"It was Char's doing.  That's her strike."
     "You shall be richly rewarded, youngling." promised Demona. 
Then she looked at Iolair.
     "And you...you'll be back. I've Cearda's word on that." she
glanced over at Krieger. "And you....you've done everything
Cearda has ever asked you with love in your heart.  You follow me
with devotion only surpassed by your devotion to your mate.  I am
proud of you Krieger.  Thank you." Kreiger flushed.  His golden
color getting even darker; almost turning bronze. "I...I...am
honored my Queen." he murmured.
     "Kreiger!" He looked over Demona's shoulder and was barely
prepared for the large *orange* form that barreled him over.
Cearda leapt into his arms.  She wrapped her arms, wings, tail,
and legs around him.  Overweighed, he tumbled over onto his
backside; she riding him down. "Beloved!" she cried nestling her
forehead under his chin; carefully for she was a beaked gargoyle.
     "My love." he said warmly, enjoying the feel of her body
pressed intimately against his own; warming to her. "Cearda!"
     With a tired, annoyed sigh Cearda released her young lusty
mate and stood up. "Yes, Demona?"
     "I don't think now is the right time or the appropriate
place for such...actively." Cearda arched a brow at her
chieftess. She knew exactly what Demona was saying but chose to
ignore it.
     "I understand. Now, what are we going to do with him?"  She
nudged the corpse of Iolair. Demona shook her head, her trophy in
her hand. "I've no idea.  How long will he be like this?"
     "Till tomorrow.  Thank goodness....like we don't have enough
problems."
     Cearda laughed.
     Krieger rose to his feet and put a hand on his mates
shoulder. Unconsciously, Cearda covered it with her own. "I think
maybe we ought to put him in the rookery cave. That way he'll be
out of the way."
     "I'll watch over him." said Char eagerly. "Not that he's
going anywhere." she added.
     Demona gave one quick nod of approval. "Go ahead. And once
you're done with that, I need to talk to you."
     Cearda didn't miss the urgency in that request. Her humor
fled. "Oh course, my Queen." she said dutifully.
     Demona grunted and turned away, looking for an appropriate
place to put her new *toy*!

     A half hour later, Cearda with Kreiger at her side entered
the shallow cave that Demona had chosen as her own.  It was the
only place that was sheltered enough for Yirena, the human girl
she had taken in.  Within the cave was a small pallet, for the
girl.  And a crudely build bookcase.  IT was filled with
spellbooks and teaching guides and anthologies of local and (*)
myths.
     It was one of these anthologies that Demona had opened in
front of her. Cearda frowned slightly. IT was an anthology that
had brought them to these mountains in the first place.
     Cearda announced her presence with a very proper:  "My
Queen?"
     Demona glanced up from the book; from a map she was
studying. "Ah, Cearda, Krieger...Good. Good.  From what you've
told me...I think that this Hunter showed up was a good think.
Look at the map."
     Cearda leaned forward and glanced at the map then sighed. "I
don't understand.  What has that monstrosity downhill have to do
with-"
     "I'll tell you!" Demona shut the book with a snap. "Come! 
Fly with me!"
     A bit reluctantly, Cearda followed Demona out of the cave,
flared her wings and sailed into the air.  Krieger quickly
followed. Demona took them as high as they could go and still
make out the physical landmarks below them.  Then she dropped
between her span in a hover. "Look!" she exclaimed opening the
book and showing Cearda her discovery.
     "Remember when we first got here, we couldn't figure out
what this red streak meant?"
     Cearda looked at the map then back down at the lava flow.
The red streak mentioned in the book.
     She nodded.
     Demona smiled and began to read, "Well look!  It says
'...east of the streak of red.  East to the home of the White God
you will find the cell of the Black One.'  And if you look east
you see that mountain!" 
     Cearda looked to where Demona was pointing.  Standing alone,
towering over all of it's (competitors) stood a huge stark peak.
"That's what we've been looking for all along!!  That's the cell
of Chernobog!"
     Demona lost her *hold* on her hover, closed her wings and
fell a few feet before reopening them to hover again.  Cearda
followed her. "And tell me again. Why are we do intent on freeing
this Black God?"
     Demona laughed, closed the book, made a mental note of the
peak and answered, "If we free the Black God, he will destroy all
the humans!  He is after all, the Father of all Gargoyles!  He
would be more than happy to see this world returned to his rule,
I am sure!" she closed her wings and streaked back down to their
kilth.
     Cearda glanced at her young mate. Krieger shrugged  closed
his wings and took up position underneath her as she slowly made
her way back down to Demona's side.
     "what do you think, my love?" he asked her.
     Cearda shook her head. "I don't know.  I mean that was one
reason we went to (*). To find books and leads as to the location
of Chernobog. But I think it turned into a obsession with her. 
So what if she finds his prison.  How in the eh world are we
suppose to be able to bargain with a Black God?"
     Krieger grunted. "That's a good question. An even better one
is what happens if he doesn't feel very fatherly toward us?  What
if he wants all of his *children* out of the way of his rule as
well?"
     Cearda frowned. "I've...I've never stood up to her
before....but this time....maybe..."
     "Yes.  Maybe it's time."

     Char sat beside the pale form of Iolair, her knees raised to
her chest her arms laid over the tops and her forehead resting on
her forearms.  Her ordeal with the Hunter, being caught in the
cave, and almost losing her life made her *sleep* troubled.  
     She could still see the rock as it slid over her. And then
there was Iolair. She wouldn't easily forget his weight as it
bore down on her. She wouldn't forget Falger.
     Falger....her intended mate.  Or at least the male she had
hoped to one day fly the Breeder's Moon with.  They had played at
being mates of course. All young gargoyles did.  But with Falger
it had gone farther.  He was her clutchmate.  They had grown up
together. Learned how to hunt together. Learned the gargoyle way
together. They normally found a ledge big enough for the both of
them and slept the day away together.
     And then there had been that nigh almost nine years
ago...that night she had woken up and found Falger dead.  Just a
pile of ruble and a steel mace coming straight at her. She had
leapt away just in time but her mate.  The one male she thought
that she would ever love was dead.
     When Demona returned and rallied the clan.  Told them that
they had to save themselves, they had to save their eggs and flee
the city, she had picked up an egg that wasn't even her own and
followed.  She would never have an egg. She was one of only a
handful of young gargoyles that had survived the surprise attack.
And there was only one male of her age now in the kilth and he
was *taken*. But of course, when the Breeder's moon rose they
would see who would catch whom.  
     She had hoped that one day it would be Falger...
     And now there was a new young male in the kilth; Iolair. 
Honored with the coveted position of flying at Cearda's left
wing. Iolair, who had risked his life, albeit foolishly to try
and *see* the Hunter.  Iolair, who had saved her from being
crushed by falling rocks.
     And what had she told him?
     "Get off of me!"
     She gave a sad smile.  It really wasn't proper for him to do
such a thing but understandable.  She probably shouldn't have
snapped.  But the touch of his body along hers had brought back
so many memories...
     Falger....
     She would never forget him but maybe it was time to go on
with her life.  To find a new male to be her mate.  To look to
the future and the new generation...
     Iolair...

     Cearda whirled around quickly, the *feathers* on her wings
all abristle.
     "You're not listening to what I am trying to tell you!  We
can't just do this!  Think of the clan!  What will we do if your
plan fails?!  We don't have another leader!"
     "You will lead after me." came the calm reply. Cearda
snarled her tail trashed left and right. "I could!  I won't!"
     "You will.  It's what I've been grooming you for, all these
years."
     Cearda let her wings fold against her back. "Ok...ok.  So
I'll lead. And what should I do?  IF you're dead, and the Black
God has decided to pursue us, and the world is blanketed in an
eternal night what should I do?"
     Her antagonist cocked his head then said sheepishly, "I
don't know." he groaned suddenly.
     "Gods Cearda!  Can we rest now?  I am getting tired of
playing Demona for you!"
     Cearda unfurled her wings. "Ok, sure." she said sourly. She
stomped over to Krieger and collapsed by his side hissing softly.
"I can't believe this!  You want me to stand up to her!  Her! 
I've never done such a thing!  That I trust her to do what's
right for the clan; to put the clan before everything else is
understood!  I don't really believe that she's going to do this."
     Kreiger reached out, picked Cearda up and drew her into his
arms. He kissed her pale cream colored hair and smiled. "I know
you don't.  But actions speak louder than words my love.  She
knows where the mountain is now. She will go there and maybe
endanger all of us.  I know she endangers the next generation. 
It would really be a great tragedy if we lost the eggs now."
     Cearda leaned back against Kreiger's chest. "I know..." she
said softly. "I fear. I fear that if I do this...she will lose
respect for me.  That she will think I've turned against her.
That I'll be banished.  I've seen her kill for less."
     Kreiger's wings came around her. "We will talk to her
tomorrow night. We must.  She must think this thing through
carefully.  She must not be allowed to release the Black God
without knowing the full extent of his power!"  He raised a lock
of her hair; pressed a kiss to the area just under her ear.
"Talking about power..." he murmured.
     Cearda turned him his arms. "Fill me.  I want to feel you
inside me." 
     He blushed again. Cearda's bold way of announcing what she
wanted always unnerved him.  But it also excited him. "I am
always ready to do your bidding my lady." he said softly. She
smiled with her eyes, turned around and positioned herself.  He
released himself from his clothing, raised her loincloth then
surged within her.
     She gave one shuddering sigh then began to purr.
     "I always want to be one with you for eternity." she
whispered.
     "I'd like that.  You know I'd like that!  Hell!  At least
we've got all day!" Cearda turned her face and saw the first rays
of the sun starting to creep over the mountain tops. She hid her
face in Krieger's long hair, breathing in his scent. "All
day...."
     He nuzzled her throat then went stone still.
     He couldn't help it.
     The sun had rose...
                   *     Eagle of Arabia     *
     Iolair could sense something was wrong the moment he awoke.
     The sun had set below the mountains, and Iolair suddenly
roared. Char snarled beside him, almost in echo. Iolair was
sprawled out where he had been tossed down, and scratched the
back of his neck with his talons.
     He yawned. "Good grief. How long was I out?"
     "You were dead for about a day or two." Char noted dryly,
hiding a degree of uncertainty that remained in her voice.
     "..and the Hunter?"
     Char grinned. "I killed him."
     Iolair smiled. "Excellent, Char."
     Char nodded. "Cearda wants to see you."
     Iolair nodded. "Was there anything else?"
     Char was about to say something, but when she realized she
had forgotten what, she made a motion of brushing him away with
her paw. Ioliar bowed with a sweep of his wings, and turned.
     He was about to leave, but stopped before leaving the
rookery. He turned one pristine egg over, then left.
     Char hid her grin behind her paw.


     Having failed to find Cearda in her and Kreiger's domain, he
went exploring down the familiar paths and passageways which Char
had shown him. There was a lot of territory to cover, so what he
could do by air, he did.
     There was something odd in the air, and the teal gargoyle
couldn't quite place it. On a particularly long stretch, Iolair
touched down in a thicket as a fierce microburst blew overhead,
rather than weather the freaky weather on the wing.
     He found a small thicket of small white flowers. Portula or
possibly Jasmine. With a mourning sense of loss, he selected a
few of the flowers, and began to twine their stems together as
the winds roared over head. He covered his head and his work with
his wings, and braided a small crown out of the flowers.
     He'd woven this pattern many times. In the freakish way the
mind does, his thoughts suddenly recalled an old tune he had sung
in his youth as he would play among ferns and flowers with Tigris
at his side.
     Oh ever joyful
     our days may be
     and all the starlight
     we may see
     take all view before thee
     and the days grown darker
     into night.
     Iolair's slight smile faded, and the contemplation left him.
Moments like this made him consider why on earth he was doing
this. Why did he choose to serve such a difficult master? He had
been placed in this place and time for a purpose, and he knew
that it's fulfillment lay before him. It had cost him Tigris.
What on earth could be so terribly important for him to be here?
     Iolair would stay, if only for that egg in the rookery. He
was sure of that. A gargoyle does not just pick up and leave. A
determination that may, perhaps, get him killed. It was, after
all, why he had gone after the Hunter -- to see if he were the
threat for which he was here. Now he was lucky to be alive.
     The winds had died down, and Iolair picked up his wreath of
flowers as he took to the sky again, following his glide in the
stiller air.
     When he noticed Cearda and Kreiger inside the cleft of a
nearby cleft, he panicked and attempted to place the wreath into
his satchel. Cearda noticed him, and signaled, and Iolair came to
rest before her. He bowed.
     "You sent for me, milady?" he asked.
     Cearda noticed the wreath of flowers half hanging from his
satchel, and entertained several bemused thoughts. "We will be
leading a special expedition into the mountains on a quest. You
will follow."
     Iolair bowed.
     Kreiger smiled at Cearda, touched her chin once, and turned
to go. He walked past Iolair, nodding, who, in turn, added a
respectful "Milord..."
     Cearda hardly spared Iolair a glance, as she trailed an
updraft that Iolair had been following a moment before, to go off
to the place to meet Demona for this small expedition to the dark
mountain.
     They were several minutes airborne before they encountered
Demona. Cearda greeted Demona, and Iolair bowed. Demona turned to
Iolair.
     "Where is Char?"
     Iolair was puzzled. "My queen?"
     Demona carefully worded her reply, certain not to mention
the words he did not need to hear. "She has skills that I need on
this journey. Bring her along."
     Cearda and Iolair shared nervous glances, and took the air
again, to return in the direction they had come.
     Demona returned to her book, carefully marking the phrase.
The phrase that demanded one of her own kind in order to awaken
her quarry.
     The blood sacrifice.

     Upon returning to the caves, one of the companions looked up
in surprise before all the others. "Cearda! Back so soon? We were
not expecting..."
     "We forgot something." Cearda noted. "Where is Char?"
     "You might ask Kreiger. He was looking for her."
     Cearda was puzzled again. What would Kreiger want with Char.
For the moment both gargoyle shrugged it off.
     The rookery doors were closed when they arrived, and the
eggs were perfectly sound. Why shouldn't they be, Cearda
reasoned.
     "There." Iolair pointed out, referring to another passageway
connecting to the rookery.
     A high pitched scream filled the air.
     Char's scream.
     Iolair broke out into a run, following the voice. Cearda was
behind him immediately.
     "No! No stop! Leave me alone! Ah!" Came her cries. Iolair's
eyes were enraged.
     "Sister!" He exclaimed as her turned the last corner...

     Cearda found Iolair had not entered the room, only hung back
in horror, one paw over his mouth, shaking in fear.
     Cearda turned the corner herself.
     Char burst from the room, and swung behind Iolair, holding
his shoulders, crouching behind him in fear.
     She was naked, and covered in the deep marks of claws that
had been trying to hold her.
     Cearda saw Char's tunic in the center of the chamber, torn
apart. There, Krieger faced them, his loincloth on the floor,
sweating, and Char's blood on his hands.
     Char was trembling, and Krieger's eyes were radiant. "Keep
his away from me..." she whispered in pleading.
     Iolair snarled. "Don't tell me this has something to do with
the continued procreation of gargoyles. Somebody's tried to feed
me that line once already this week."


     (*Touche*)
                      *     Perotessa     *
     Cearda's eyes shuttered. "The blood sacrifice..." she
murmured. Iolair looked over his shoulder and watched stupefied
as Cearda reached out and grabbed Char's arms.
     "Wait!!  What are you doing?!" he demanded.
     "Stay out of this youngling." Cearda said softly.
     Char began to struggle.
     "No!!" screamed Iolair.  Then he turned toward Krieger, who
was advancing on him swiftly.  He never even saw the fist that
smashed into his jaw.
     Roaring in surprise and pain, Iolair was spun around and hit
the floor of the cave with a thud.
     "Iolair!" screamed Char! 
     Cearda pulled back on her arms. "Sleep young one....sleep."
Char's struggles lessened then she went limp.
     "I've got her. You grab him." said Cearda softly.  She
watched her mate, admiring the sleek lines of his physique.  She
knew exactly what he had been doing, or trying to do.
     Gain *strength* from an outside source. Namely Char.  
     If the transference had been successful, he would have been
filled with her lifeforce.  
     But apparently, from the marks on Char's skin and his state,
he hadn't been able to complete the rite.  "I take it she didn't
want anything to do with you." drawled Cearda
     Krieger scooped up his loincloth from the floor. "No...but I
was persuasive. What made you come and look for me?"
     Cearda shrugged. "Demona." 
     Krieger growled softly. "Are you sure that we're doing the
right thing?"
     Cearda shook her head and kept a tight hold on Char. "No. 
But as long as the eggs are safe...the clan...us....do we really
have a choice?  Are we not the two most loyal followers Demona
has?"
     He gave a very disparaging snort then bent and flung the
unconscious form of Iolair over his shoulders *again*.
     "I am just afraid...that's all. "
     Cearda followed him out of the rookery. "Me too."

     Iolair woke with a splitting head ache!  He might be one
with the stone, he thought, but that didn't seem to help when
knocked out.
     He tried to rise and found himself bound.
     He gasped and began to look around.
     He was chained to a rock.  Before him was a crudely
constructed alter and lying upon it still naked yet peaceful
was... "CHAR!!!"
     "Ah...the sleeper has awakened." said a smooth silky voice.
     A voice he knew all too well. He turned the best that he
could and saw.
     "Demona!  What is the meaning of all this?!"
     The red maned gargoyle gave him an insipid smile. "What
this?" she passed a hand over Char's lax form. " 'tis but a blood
offering to the Black God, that's all."
     "Black God?  What...what's going on!"
     Cearda, halberd in hand, came forward. "Demona is to summon
the Black God Chernobog.  Father of all gargoyles. It is her
belief that Chernobog will grant us the right to take over this
world and be masters of it once more."
     Iolair stared at Cearda wildly. "And you would use her blood
to do so?!" Cearda didn't even spare Char a glance.  "She's
young...we need the blood of a young gargoyle.  And the pure soul
of a righteous gargoyle.  You're soul." Iolair gasped and shrank
back.
     "Then that's why you brought me here.  That's why I went
through all the testing.... I thought you really cared for me!!!"
Demona moved forward and reached out to touch him.
     "We do, Iolair...we do.  And in your selfless sacrifice to
Chernobog we will show you exactly how much we care." 
     Cearda's air of confidence shimmered a bit.  She glanced at
her mate. He seemed upset. Demona looked down at Iolair a few
moments more then smiling went back to her place at the alter.
     "Demona!  Don't do this!!"  Iolair screamed.
     "It's not up to you, Youngling.  This is our destiny!!"
     She opened her spellbook, took a long wickedly curved blade,
and began to chat.
     The words of the spell meant nothing to Iolair; he couldn't
make out the language. But Demona didn't seem to have any trouble
with them.  As she read, Cearda and Krieger made the correct
responses at the correct times.
     From the ring of stone around them flickers of black flame
exploded into existence.  
     "Undi Kerkorot Sumtee Ergrok." Demona implored.
     She put the book down and spread out her arms.  "To the God
of Darkness we give unto you this sacrifice.  Take of it and
nourish yourself.  We beg thee to return to us!  Return to your
children!"
     The black flames roared emitting a stale black smoke. The
smoke instead of floating upwards sank down. It slithered along
the ground then wrapped itself around the three participants of
the rite.
     The wind howled yet it did not disturb the smoke. The wall
of smoke and flames rose higher and higher till Iolair could see
nothing else. There was a scream in the darkness.
     "DEMONA!!!"
     "Cearda!  Stop!"
     "NOOOOOOO!"
     There was a flash of black light then everything went away.  
Iolair looked away then squinted back to the place where the rite
had taken place.
     There was the alter, empty now.  There was Cearda hunting
desperately for something.  And there was Krieger trying to hold
her back so frantic was she in her search.
     Of Demona...there was no trace.

     Demona knew only two things.  One she wasn't dead.  Two, she
didn't know exactly where she was. She tried to push herself up,
for she was lying on her stomach on cool stones. She wasn't
really strong enough and a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over
her. She took a sniff of the air. Stale and full of sulfur; the
smell of rotten eggs. She gagged.
     Then she heard the rumbling.  A loud long rumbling sigh. 
Then the sound of tree branches being broken, a slurping sound, a
sucking sound. She looked up.  Her nocturnal eyes able to make
out a form in the darkness.
     A massive black shape that moved.
     It turned...Demona gasped and covered her mouth with her
hand. It was He. Chernobog, the Black God. Never in her life had
she seen such evil personified.  Never!
     Chernobog rose something to his mouth and bit down. Nausea
like she had never known before grabbed her. She began to heave
but there was nothing in her stomach.  She tried to look away but
was unsuccessful.
     He was eating Char...

     Kreiger grabbed Cearda's arms and spun her around to face
him.  "Cearda!  Cearda!  Stop it!"
     Cearda tired to battle her way free. "I've got to find her! 
I just have too!"
     "We will!!" said Krieger. "We'll find her!  We-"
     "You're in trouble that's what." said Iolair.  "Trouble and
there's only one way to get help."
     Krieger turned on the chained gargoyle in a rage, eyes lit.
     "Shut up!  I know that!  And the first thing to do is..." he
reached out, took the chains in his hands, then snapped the
links. "Free you."
     Iolair rubbed at his wrists and looked at the gold gargoyle
in suspicion.
     "What about your *wonderful* dreams of conquest?" he
sneered.
     Cearda's hands worked on the shaft of her halberd.  "They
weren't my dreams. She...she knew that!  And now she's gone! 
Iolair....help us...please." Iolair took in the turmoiled face of
she who he thought was his equal and knew in his soul that he was
far far better than she. "I'll help you any way I can." he said
finally. "What kind of spell did you use?"
     Cearda let out a small gasp of  surprise. Her eyes lit with
pleasure and new resolve.  If he would have let her, she would
have hugged him. She bent and picked up Demona's spell book.
"It's in here." she said handing it to him.
     Krieger went to his mate's side and stood beside her; his
wing curled around her. Iolair opened the book and began to look
a the text. "Strange... I've never seen this language before. Did
humans write this?" Cearda shook her head. "No.  For the tales we
were told, it was written by gargoyles."
     Iolair looked at her, "Are you serious?!  That's not
possible!  Gargoyles do not write!"
     "I know.  But that's what we were told. That this book is in
the Mother tongue. The language all of us should know.  But I'd
never heard it before. Demona though was able to pick it up quite
easily."
     Iolair screwed up his face in concentration and tried to
make sense of the words on the pages.   "Well looks like I showed
up right in time." said a jolly voice.
     Instantly Cearda came out of her depression. Krieger went
instantly into battle readiness.
     Iolair threw the book down and turned toward the threat.
     The "threat" slowly came around the last of the rocks and
into full view.   A small wizened old man with rosy cheeks and a
jolly face came up the path. He was dressed in a green cloak. His
leggings the finest Iolair had ever seen. He wore a small pack on
his back and held in his right hand a staff of yew wood.
     "Who are you?!" exclaimed Iolair.
     The little man swept the pack off his back and then sat down
on it.  He crossed his legs non-pulsed by the sight of the
gargoyles.  "My name is Byela.  I've come to help you." Cearda's
jaw dropped. She couldn't believe the *arrogance* of this little
man. Besides that...how had he found them? 
     "How did you know we were here?"
     Byela took a pipe out of a pouch on his belt.  He filled the
bowl then lit it.  He took a few puffs letting the smoke wreath
around his head.  "I saw the fires.  I'd been waiting for the
fires." he said softly. He shook out his leggings. "But that's
not the important part. The most important part is you must trust
me.  If  you don't your Queen will die."
     Cearda, who had begun to calm down, suddenly flared her
wings and began to hackle.  "What do you know of Demona?!!" she
demanded.
     Byela smiled his enigmatic smile.  "Enough."
     Iolair seeing that if pushed any farther, Cearda was going
to attack took up the line of questioning.  "What do we have to
do?"
     Byela turned his blue eyes toward the younger gargoyle. 
"You have to trust me."
     "HA!!" scoffed Cearda.  "I wouldn't trust a human-"
     The little man smiled then chuckled.  "And who says I am
human?"  He looked at the gargoyle with a wicked twinkle in his
eyes.
     Cearda's jaw dropped.

     Trembling, Demona slowly climbed to her feet and stood tall
in front of the Black God.  He slurped the last remnants of his
meal into his mouth.
     "My Daughter." he rumbled.  "You brought a gift and now you
will ask for a boon, yes?"
     Demona blinked.  She stated to shake uncontrollably in the
face of this evil. "My...my...Sire." she began. "I work for your
release..."
     Chernobog turned his luminescent eyes toward her. The large
pupil-less orbs studied her. The wide blood smeared mouth quirked
upwards and he began to smile.
     "Do you?" he asked.  The darkness that surrounded him
shifted, enfolded him. He disappeared. Demona cast about wildly
looking for him.
     The shadows suddenly belched forth life.  Chernobog wearing
the form of the gargoyle. He had the large horns of a bull
sprouting from his brow.  His wings though dominated all.  He was
as black as the shadows that had birthed him.
     He was also naked clothed only in dark secrets...
     He walked forward slowly his white eyes shinning.
     "You brought the gift...and you brought yourself.  As my
summoner you must hold great knowledge of the outside world."  He
reached out and touched the underside of her breast.
     She flinched but didn't move away.
     His hand moved over her breast, covered it, his thumb
brushing over the crest. "You will serve me well young one.  Old
though you may think you are, I am far...far older."
     Paralyzed she could only watch as he drew her into his
darkness; dragged her down into the blackness of his evil.  And
in the end she embraced him with trembling arms.
                   *     Eagle of Arabia     *
     "CEARDA?!!!"
     "Don't blame her that you became involved with this!" Byela
almost laughed. "I'm the one who got you into this."
     "What...?" Iolair held his head in confusion. "I still don't
see why I..."
     "There's only two that could go, and the Black God would
react totally different for me, leaving you." Cearda added, in
explanation.
     Iolair sighed, and took the bag over his shoulder. "There's
something basically wrong with this agreement that I can't put a
talon on." he sighed.
     Stepping to the edge of the cleft, he hoisted the bag, and
rose into the rising night sky, gliding toward the dark mountain
in the distance.
     Cearda and Byela watched him glide away. "Are you sure this
is wise?" Cearda inquired.
     "He has a weapon you shall never bear again, Cearda. He is
naive."

     On the edge of a realm of darkness, Iolair entered the
caves, hugging the cord to the bag closer. His skin felt pricked
and frozen by the feel of the air. He stepped inside, brushing
the spiderwebs aside.
     He entered a world of blackened stone. It was so *dark*, so
*barren*. It was cold even for a gargoyle, but still he continued
onward. The rock turned black, and Iolair released all he had to
do now was find what he was looking for and leave!
     Suddenly, he stopped. In this intense dark, his night eyes
made out something small on the floor that had been warm not very
long ago.
     There was a small bead on the floor, not much larger than a
rose petal. Char had used them to braid her hair...
     Char was dead. The realization was like a slap of cold ice
to his emotions.  Frightened, he tripped over a loose black
stone. Gingerly, he picked it up and dropped it into his bag.
     Iolair stepped down to pick up the bead, when suddenly it
vanished from before him. Iolair looked up.
     Before him was the most ominous shape of darkness he had
ever seen. No light came from him, a living shadow. Iolair
gasped, and began to back away.
     A giant taloned hand caught him up into the air. "Oh, stop
sniveling, you little coward. Stop shaking like a frightened
little girl."
     Iolair could not move in the strong grip, but instead turned
to his magic to try and protect him, drawing on everything he
had.
     "Is this one of any use?"
     "No, though others would convince me otherwise."
     Iolair was startled. "Demona?"
     All he could see was the black shape of the thing or things
holding him.
     "Then begone from here, frightened little girl. The next
time you step foot here you shall be my prisoner."
     With that, Iolair was flung out away from the mountain.

     When Kreiger saw the ball of fire streak away from the dark
mountain, he thought that it was some sort of fire meant to kill
them. However, when Iolair emerged from those flames, screaming
in a high pitched voice, there was suddenly another need
altogether.
     Catch him, before he hits his head and addles his brains
again!
     Kreiger caught him neatly, sliding across the stone cliff
face about a ten yards. Iolair dizzily pushed him away, and threw
the bad down, before collapsing to his knees. His teal skin was
burnt black and flaking away, and he was shaking.
     Kreiger laughed. "There now! That wasn't so bad, now was
it?"
     Iolair just lay on the ground shivering, and did not reply.
Cearda reached down, grabbed his shoulders, and looked him in the
eyes.
     "GREAT STARS, IOLAIR! YOU'RE FEMALE!"
     Iolair blinked, and touched his chest with his paw. After a
moment of realization, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he
fainted.
     Kreiger saw, and nearly laughed. "Well! If that don't beat
all!" he chuckled.
     Cearda was not amused. "He let his guard down, and the Dark
God has touched him. As if he hasn't been through enough..."
     "I wouldn't worry about that right now." Byela noted.
"Chernobog was merely twitching his whiskers. That boy is strong,
he can handle even this for as long as it takes, but we must act
now."
     Cearda took up the sack, and retrieved the black stone
Iolair had stolen. "His sacrifice seems to have been for a good
cause. A perfect one."
     Byela looked Cearda in the eye. "Now you must begin the
spell."
     Cearda looked apprehensious, but took her halberd, touched
it to the black stone, and furrowed her brows in concentration.
     Kreiger looked from the once-more unconscious form of
Iolair, back to the domain of the black god. This was only the
beginning of this battle, he decided.
                      *     Perotessa     *
     He turned back to Beyla. "Hey old man!" he said. The Elder
arched a brow at the impetious gargoyle in inquirey. "Why did the
Chernobog let Iolair go?  I thought he needed his soul to escape
the dark realms?" Beyla shrugged. "Who knows how that Dark God's
mind works?" he said puffing on his pipe.
     Krieger crouched down next to Iolair and looked at
him...no...now HER!  He gave a soft snort of laughter.  Well he
hadn't been expecting this! Cearda, who had been mummering her
spell, now began chanting louder and louder sweat breaking out on
her brow. Suddenly her eyes snapped open. They shined blood red.
She herself took on a faint blackish glow which extended from the
stone. She raised her halberd then struck it aginst the stone. 
The stone gave one flash then silently split apart into multipule
pieces. As it shattered a scream of multipule voices rent the
air. Kriger slapped his hands to his ears.  Cearda fell to her
knees gasping, braced on her halberd to keep from falling on her
face.
     Beyla empited his pipe, stood up and picked up one of the
small stones. "Yes....these will do nice." he smiled. "Well done
m'lady." Cearda gave him a very insincere smile. Krieger took his
hands away from his ears which were still ringing.
     "Ok...we have two female gargoyles...an old *man*...a young
virle male gargoyle...and a whole bunch of little black stones! 
So what do all of these ingredients make?" Beyla slipped his pipe
back into his pouch then smiled at Krieger.
     "Trouble for Chernobog." he said.  "Come all of you. I am
prescribed from stepping on the land of Chernobog so you three
must continue with this fight."
     Cearda glared at the little old man. "The sun will rise
soon!  We'll be of no help to you." Beyla took out three long
strands of leather from his pouch and proceeded to twine one
black stone to each piece of leather.  He tied a final knot in
the leather to form a crude neckless. "Yes." he agreed, "the sun
will rise, but you'll not sleep today. I can not afford it. Here
take the neckless and for the first time in your life witness the
power of the sungod!"
     Cearda looked at the neckless supiciously then slipped it
over her head. Krieger practically grabbed the other two
necklesses out of Beyla's hands. He put one around Iolair's neck
then gulping, he slipped the other over his head.  He expected
some sort of pain or something but nothing happened. He frowned
and looked at Beyla doubtfully. "Are you sure these things are
going to work?"
     Beyla nodded. "They'll work. I can only hope that you're
*night* eyes are adaptable to sunlight.  Now all you have to do
is get Chernobog to leave his prision. When he sees the light
he'll be powerless and we can destroy him." he shrugged.  "Then
again he'll not be totally destroyed...there can not be light
without darkness...nor darkness without light."
     Cearda rolled her eyes and struggled to her feet.  "Ok fine! 
We go to the mountian, somehow *bribe* this Dark God into
following us into the sunlight, and....then what?  AND!  How do
we get him to follow us to the surface?"
     Byela hefted his pack, checked his boot lacings, and began
to walk down the mountian path.  "Don't worry. I'll help you. As
for how do you get the Dark God's attention?" he spared the still
unconcious Iolair a glance...."You use bait."
     Krieger looked at Iolair then the *truth* slammed into him.
His jaw dropped open.
     "NO WAY!" he exclaimed. He gave his mate a lamenting look.
"Do I have to carry her?"
     Cearda glared alternatingly between the retreating Beyla to
the form of Iolair; her jaw working as she ground her teeth in
silent rage. She snapped her wings open, whirled away with her
beloved halberd clutched in her hands. "Bring her!" she snarled. 
'You better be as desireable as Beyla thinks you are!' she
thought.
     'I also hope Demona is ok.  Oh....Deathless....if I ever
needed your strength it's now!'
                   *     Eagle of Arabia    *
     "Do you want to know what my theory is?" Byela seemed to
note, in an almost comical way that seemed totally outside of
what they knew of him.
     "No." Kreiger grunted. "But I have a feeling I'm about to
hear it anyway." He shifted the weight of he unconcious gargoyle
on his shoulders.
     "I suspect Chernobog has himself occupied with something for
the moment that made him forget how much he wanted out for just a
moment. I imagine he will remember once her grows bored again."
     Cearda scowled. "If it's Demona or Char he's entertaining
himself with..." she made a fist.
     "Char's dead." a voice whispered.
     Kreiger dropped Iolair, who winced as she struggled to bring
herself into conciousness.
     "What?" Cearda asked.
     "The dark god consumed her." she shivered.
     Byela stopped walking, and returned to where they had thrown
the other down. He looked up to the sky. "We might as well wait
here for the sun to rise."
     Iolair tried to rub the blackness off his hands, but only
succeeded in peeling his skin away. Frustrated, Kreiger picked
Iolair up by the shoulders, and tossed her into a pool of water
by the wayside. It was deep enough to immerse parts of her, and
she used the muddy water to clean herself off. The skin fell
away. When quite satisfied, Iolair stood up and returned toward
their group. The leather loincloth he had worn before the only
article of clothing that had survived, and she was topless.
     Cearda fumed off.
     "Where are you going?" Kreiger called after her.
     "To kill something to dress her in. She deserves that much
at least." she returned angrily, and continued away.
     Iolair had not paid any attention to this exchange. She was
standing by Byela and she were watching the east, as the sun was
touching the tops of the mountains.
     Kreiger looked at it with eyes wide. Iolair seemed to be
awed the scene just as much as he.
     "Havn't you seen the sun before?"
     "Yes." she replied. "But not with these eyes."
     Kreiger touched the gargoyle on the arm. She flinched away
from his touch like hot coals. "What?" he asked defensively.
     "Stay away from me."
     "I do not mean you any harm, Iolair."
     "And Char? Gain strength from an outside source?"
     "I was only trying..."
     "Ritual murder, ritual rape, ritual suicide, EVERYTHING IS
ACCEPTABLE IN THIS BLASTED TIME OF YOURS, ISN'T IT?!!!"
     "I meant nothing of the sort!"
     Iolair pointed a talon at him. "You are nothing but lust
given form!" she accused. Hastily she turned about, as if ready
to make a hasty retreat, but she found herself face to face with
Cearda. Both were startled at her sudden reappearance. Cearda
appeared about ready to strangle Iolair, but Byela turned Cearda
and Kreiger aside.
     "Enough childplay, both of you."
     Iolair moved on again, heading toward the darklands.
     The others followed. "A hundred years without a mate,"
Kreiger noted with sarcasm, "and he becomes a woman. A b..."
     Cearda silenced him. Ahead, where they could not see, Iolair
scowled.
     "Every woman has her own unique first day in heat. I ought
to know." Byela observed, quickening the pace. "We need her, and
I can't have you running her off."
     "Demona is too important right now." Cearda affirmed.
     "Very well, my love." Kreiger affirmed with a sigh.

     The walk toward the cave took little time. Clueless as to
what was about to happen, she waited until the group was once
again reformed. When she was not expecting, Kreiger closed the
shackles around Iolair's wrists.
     She suddenly cried out in alarm. "Kreiger! Cearda!"
     Iolair pulled against the shackles frantically. Cearda's jaw
worked angrily. "I'm... sorry... Iolair...   ...there was no
other way."
     Cearda and Kreiger holding her on each side, they forced her
inside.
     There was complete darkness within. The sense of evil was
everywhere. Even Byela had not come this far, remaining outside.
Iolair shivered, dreading a second encounter.
     The dark form was preceisely where Cearda expected it to be.
But, there was another beside it, a massive black frame with
Demona's face...
     Cearda nearly lost her concentration, but luckily held it.
That was what had made Iolair loose his concentration. Keeping a
grip on herself, she and Kreiger thrust Iolair down onto the
floor before the dark god.
     "CHERNOBOG!" she demanded. "We have brung what you craved.
Speak with your children!"
     A dark hand reached down, and took up the trembling gargoyle
by her chains. The single talon spilt her clothes apart, which
fell down to the ground beside Char's.
     "Yes...   very good."
     Iolair screamed.
                      *     Perotessa     *
     Through the link of the dark stones that *she* had
retrieved, Iolair felt Cearda's disgust.
     ~Oh will you quit your whining!' she demanded.
     Startled, Iolair quieted down for a heartbeat, looked at
Cearda who stood in obedience to the Black God, and realized that
she had spoken by telepathy.
     ~Cearda?
     ~Yes youngling. Apparently we can communicate this way. Now
hush. There is much to do and not alot of time.  Be still.
     Iolair gulped then turned her face back to Chernobog.
     The Black God looked at the quivering form of Iolair
pleased.  "You have done very well my Daughter." he praised
Cearda. Then shook Iolair who began to whimper again.
     "Sleep." Chernobog commanded.
     Iolair's eye lids grew heavy, her breathing deepened, then
her head fell forward. Satisfied, Chernobog laid her down on the
dark stone floor. "Such innocence. Such purity." he grunted. "I
will harvest your soul later."
     He turned his attention to Cearda and Krieger.
     "My children. You do well to help your *Sire*."
     He placed an outstretched hand over Cearda's head, preparing
to pick her up.
     At her throat, the Stone of Long Life flared with golden
light.  It illuminated Cearda making the red-gold gargoyle look
like living flame.  It struck out at the darkness that was
Chernobog.  He jerked his hand away hissing in displeasure.
     "So...mystic." he let the word fall from his mouth like a
curse.  "You don't *need* me or my power."
     Cearda clutched a hand over the Stone, damping it's
rebellious flare. "It was a gift, Great One.  From another of
your Daughters.  It...it...holds great sentimental value for me."
     Chernobog scrowled, "It also holds great power."
     The large opaque eyes turned from her to Krieger.  The
younger male flinched, his wings trembled slightly with his
surpressed terror. With a snarl of spite, the Dark God reached
out to pluck the young gargoyle up.
     "DO NOT!" shouted Cearda.  She sprang into action, twirling
her halberd around and bringing it down onto Chernobog's wrist.
If the halberd had not been a magical blade, Chernobog probably
wouldn't have felt it, but as it was he grunted in pain as the
halberd sank easily into his wrist.  It slid out just as easily
when Chernobog jerked his hand away.
     He glared at Cearda who realized the import of what she had
just done.  She felt fear claw at her throat. Then she swallowed,
brought her chin up, and gave the Dark God a flat glare.  "I told
you; Do not touch him." Chernobog's face gave away nothing.  He
sat back bringing his huge tail around to curl around his waist.
     For the first time, with the light from the Stone, Cearda
was able to clearly see Chernobog.  He was indeed a Black...
gargoyle.  He looked exactly like a gargoyle!  His eyes were
arresting; capturing your attention. Drawing you in till you
forgot where you were.  From his brow sprouted horns, like a
bull. A huge, impossible rack that stretched out then curved
inwards and up. He wore nothing but shadows and in those shadows,
rising and falling with his every breath, were a span of wings
that were so immense that he could wrap his whole body away in
them. She could see nothing else; the shadows were too dark.
     Chernobog's tail twitched.  "What else have you brought to
me as Tribute?" Cearda lowered her halberd then realized exactly
how stupid it was to expect an attack from him.  He could easily
kill her if he wished. But she knew that it would be a costly
victory for him.
     "We could not bring much of anything, Father.  But below, on
a mountain side, there is the rest of the clan. Mayhaps they will
satisfy you." The Black gargoyle's tail twitched,
     "I will need their combined life-force to truly escape this
pit."  He looked around then rose up.  "Very well.  Since you
three are blood and bone, I can assume that it is still nightfall
outside.  I will go."
     Cearda bowed her head to him in a show of deference.
~Cearda...
     The red-gold gargoyle looked up startled.  She looked at the
large shadowed body with Demona's face.
     ~My Queen?
     ~Cearda...'  The voice, Demona's voice, sounded faint and on
the edge of hysteria.
     ~Help me.  I....I...'
     ~We are, my Queen. Have faith. We will free you.' Demona's
emotions roiled from blind panic to gut wrenching despair. ~I was
a fool. A fool. Please Cearda...help me.'
     ~I have always trusted in you Demona. Trust in me now.' She
turned away and started toward the tunnel, Krieger at her heels.
As she started down the tunnel she half turned, "My Lord, don't
forget Iolair." she said 
     Chernobog, glanced at the sleeping gargoyle, and picked her
up as if it was an afterthought. "Go my Daughter.  I'll follow.
And you, my Dearest" he looked at *Demona* "Come with me."
     Cearda scrambled up the stone pathway with Krieger pushing
her derrière.  Upon reaching the top she turned slightly and
helped him out. "I HATE IT IN THERE!" he said.
     Quickly, she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh Beloved! 
Don't worry!  All will be well. Look!" She pointed at the sun. 
It was slowly being covered up by the moon.
     "What sort of magic is that?!" he asked shocked and
bewildered.
     "Must be Beyla. Come, quickly!  We must make room." And
indeed they did!  The stone shook, then exploded outwards. The
two gargoyles took to the air. Forcing his head and shoulders
through though the small opening, Chernobog made his first
appearance into the free world in millennia.
     He took in a great lungful of air then let it out again.
"AHHHHH!  Freedom!  It has been too long!"
     "And it will be much longer before you get free again!"
called a voice.
     Cearda angled over, slicing through the air then suddenly
backwinged as she came face to face with the second largest
gargoyle she thought she'd ever seen. But instead of being black
it was white. Iridescently white, glowing white; an immense
white star of a gargoyle.
     She closed her wings and tumbled head over tail to a lower
elevation.  Krieger saw the white gargoyle and he too backwinged.
"WHOA!" he shouted.
     "Where the heck did that thing come from!?"
     The white gargoyle or Byelanbog, as Cearda *knew* him to be
flared his wings to their fullest.  "Come forth Brother!  Come
forth and face your jailer and warden!" Snarling, Chernobog
forced the rest of his body through the small opening, taking to
the air to battle the White God!
                   *     Eagle of Arabia     *
     There was a titanic clash as two massive fronts, one
brighter than noon-day sun, the other darkest than the deepest
night, collided with collosal fury. The sounds of rage, fury,
snarling, and anger reverberated underhill. The smell of blood
was thick in the air.
     Such were the conditions Demona witness upon leaving the
cavern. Her thoughts tumbled about and fed upon themselves, as
she watched in utter bafflement as the day and the night
collided.
     She could almost sense the moves Chernobog would make before
he would make them... almost as if she were fighting the
battle...
     *Don't go with him!* Cearda's voice resounded in her mind.
     *Wha... what?*
     *You were starting to let your thoughts be possesed by him.
Keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself, or else you will
never be free!*
     Demona tried not to think about Chernobog, but found her
thoughts arrested in him... without mercy... utterly able to
kill... a sleek warrior... evil given form...
     *STOP!* Cearda commanded again.
     She couldn't! Her thoughts were not her own!
     A sudden, wretching pain shot through her for a moment, as
she and Cearda both saw and realised Chernobog was being driven
back. Demona felt her body constricting inward against itself,
tighter and tighter.
     The fury of the battle heated still. Chernobog was thrown
backwards by the heat of that last hit, leaving him on the
ground. He sprung for the jugular, but was pounded by the force
of this great white being, who seemed to be growing larger and
larger...
     "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" Demona yelled in
agony, as it became apparent that the dark god's power was
failing, and Chernobog was shrinking.
     Suddenly recovoring, Chernobog realised he still held one
weapon.
     Cearda gasped, realising what the dark god held. Chernobog
held it between the two of them, like some sort of mighty
talisman. It was teal colored...
     "IOLAIR!" Kreiger shouted, but he was utterly asleep,
oblivious to what was happened.
     The white god did not withdraw, but held his place.
     "Come no nearer, Byelanbog! If you value any of your puny
servants or vessels, come no nearer, or I'll shatter this one!"
     Byelanbog only smiled. "You won't do that. You need to get
inside of her and take her, in order to escape fully your
prison."
     "Perhaps so," Chernogbog took naked form of she-Iolair in
one paw, placing the other one just above, as if ready to smash a
fly. "...but how much pain can they stand?"
     Byelanbog sneered. Without a moment's hesitation, Chernobog
leapy above the crest of a rocky pass in the hills, and took to
the wing, his prize in hand.
     Without a moment lost, Demona snarled, grabbed the stone
face, and took to the air after him.
     Byelanbog watched them go for a moment. "Don't let him just
get away!" Kreiger protested.
     Byelanbog laughed. "What? You mean you care for the little
hatchling, gargoyle?"
     Kreiger's jaw worked.
     "Come, my pets. Have faith. Chernogbog shall not get far."
                      *     Perotessa     *
     Cearda, seeing the indecision on her mates face, snarled. He
gave two wingstrokes with her own impressive span and flew in an
attack formation screaming battlecry to Krieger. She brandished
her halberd, swung around and followed the quickly dissapearing
Demona.
     Kriger snarled, eyes lighting up with rage, and took off
after her. Byelanbog spread his own wings wide. "Good luck my
Childern!" he called. Then he looked up at the covered sun. "Soon
Mother Moon.  Soon we shall have revenge on all the evil that
Chernobog has done to us."

     Demona chased after Chernobog and knew that it was losing
fight.  She still wasn't sure what she was going to do when she
caught up to him...she couldnt kill him. For to kill him would be
to kill herself as well.  Her eyes blazed red. She might not be
able to kill him but that didn't stop her from killing HER! 
Screaming with rage she closed her wings and dived in a headlong
rush!

     Cearda watched as Demona's wings closed and she began to
dive toward the unsuspecting Chernobog.  The Black God's wings
spread a shadow of death to the ground far below.  Cearda had no
idea what Demona was doing but her sharp eyes quickly were able
to make out what Demona was targeting; Iolair! "NO!" Krieger,
always a bit quicker than she, shot forward.  Cearda closed her
own wingspan to help him.
     With only ten feet till she hit Iolair, Demona was captrued
by strong arms. She screamed again in outrage. Her wings sprang
out in her starlement and confusion.  She began to claw viciously
at Krieger. The male gargoyle roared in pain, closed his wings
and tumbled into Chernobog's broad back.   Likewise, startled,
the Black Gargoyle attempted to twist around to shake off the
unwanted passengers.  Cearda snaped her wings open with a mighty
effort, braking in mid air, and took a swipe at Chernobog's
closed hand. The hand that contained Iolair. The magical halberd
sank deeply into the Black God's vien and artery.  He screamed,
reflexivly opening his hand. Iolair slipped out and began to
fall, still asleep. Cearda gave battlecry, closed her wingspan,
and dove after her clanmate. She plucked the slumbering Iolair
out of the air like an eagle that plays with it's catch. Then
turned in mid-air and headed back toward Chernobog's dark
prision.
     On his back, the two struggling gargoyles, Demona and
Krieger. And fleeing as quickly as her pitiful little wings could
get her, Cearda with that soul he needed so  badly.  The Black
God snarled and it was like thunder. Krieger, upon hearing that,
let Demona got like she was a hot coal and scrambled to get off
the Black gargoyle's back. He used all his strength to push
Demona from himself, spreak his wings to thier fullest and was
toss upwards by an obiedent updraft.  Demona snarled her outrage,
spit some of her hair out of her mouth and would have followed if
it wasn't for suddenly being thrown off of Chernobog's back when
the Black God twisted in mid flight to chase his escaping
*prize*.
     Demona screamed, this time in terror as she was thrown off
the Black God's back. She  free fell a hundred feet before
snapping her wings out to save herself. But even that wasn't
enough as a rouge patch of wind conspired and slamed her against
a sharp cliff face.
     She died instantly.
     Krieger, seeing his Queen smash her head in on hard granite,
roared in a passion of despair!  His eyes blazed white. Closing
his wings he dived, much as Demona had but this time straight for
chernobog's exposed neck. He would kill the black god one way or
the other. He never occured to him, that the Black God could kill
him with a flick of his fingers.  He drew his own magical
claymore and struck! Chernobog was shocked to say in the least.
He lost all consentration, rearing up in mid-flight, roaring in
pain.  The doublesided sword sank deeply into the flesh of his
neck.  Black blood welled up. Keiger braced himself against the
dark gargoyle's shoulders and pulled the claymore free.  He was
instantly and liberally sprayed with the black blood that hissed
and ate away at his own flesh like acid. He screamed in mortal
terror, lost his balance and began to fall. He didn't even feel
it when his head struk an outcropping of stone.  He fell onto a
mountian's thin high spine, almost cut in two.  The black blood
still eatting away at his flesh. But he was already dead by the
blow to the head.
     Cearda didn't see any of this.  All she knew was that she
had what Chernobog wanted more than anything.  And she had to
keep Iolair away from him. The Stone of Long Life blazed,
illuminating Iolair in it's light.  Her halberd began to glow. 
     Iolair moaned softly then blinked.
     ~Iolair?" Cearda said urgently.
     ~Ce....ce...Cearda....I had the strangest dream." Iolair
sleepily began to rub at her eyes, yawned then opened her eyes.
Over Cearda's shoulder she saw Chernobog. She stifled a scream of
terror; going stiff in Cearda's arms.
     "It wasn't a Dream!"
     Cearda closed her wings diving again in an erratic movement.
Iolair wound her arms around Cearda's neck. "What?..."
     "You're right!  It's wasn't a dream!  It was a nightmare! 
Can you fly?!"
     Iolair nodded.  Cearda then thought better of it. "You might
be able too, but I think he'd be able to catch you. I think you
should stay with me."
     She opened her left wing and that sent her spinning out of
control.  Iolair scremed and tried desperatlly to get closer to
Cearda. 
     "Hopefully, this nightmare will turn back into a beautiful
dream. IF I am able to get back to Byelnabog!"
     Iolair dared to look out of the protective arms that held
her. She saw the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. A
gargoyle of purest white. Like a star had taken shape ...or the
sun...no the heart of the sun! "A white gargoyle?"
     Cearda nodded once, getting herself back into control. 
"Iolair!  Look!"
     She spread her wings and came in for a landing.  Over weight
and unbalanced by Iolair and the wild wind she stumbled and fell.
Iolair was pitched forwards barely striking her head against a
stone. Cearda almost impaled herself on her halberd; had the wind
knocked out of her and struggled for breath. Iolair looked to
wher Cearda had been pointing and saw the moon slowly moving out
of the path of the sun. Chernobog looked up also, saw what was
happening and screamed in outrage. If the moon finished it's
journey, then nothing  would  be between him and total
anialation!!!! 
                   *     Eagle of Arabia     *
     Iolair was holding her head, and the paw that held it was a
bit bloody. Cearda recovored quickly, and they quickly began to
take in the situation. Bylanbog was nearby, looking over the
scene. Demona was dead. It was then that Cearda saw Kreiger,
laying dead atop the upper ridge of the mountain. Cearda,
oblivious to all else, took to the air and raced to his side.
Iolair, however, was watching Chernobog.
     Chernobog screamed with outrage. He clutched his head, and
his flight faltered. As the first rays of the sun touched the
ground from behind the veil of the moon, Chernobog turned to
stone. The dark god fought against it with all his strength, but
suddenly was nothing more than a giant statue hanging a thousand
feet up in the air.
     The statue crashed to the earth, splitting apart. Byelanbog
made a motion with his paws, and the peices all turned to dust.
"Back to prison with you, Chernobog."


     Demona, dazed and confused, returned to conciousness from
her state of immortal limbo. Demona blinked a few times, as she
tried to clear her vision. She saw a teal colored female gargoyle
looking down at her, with a bloodied cut on her scalp. She
squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to straighten her
thoughts out.
     "How much do you remember?" she inquired.
     "It's all... very confused."
     "Your color has returned to normal -- a good sign I
suppose."
     "What happened, sister?"
     "The dark god possessed your body, ate our clan member Char,
and tried to possess me as well."
     Demona winced. Was it possible she had allowed the death of
a clan member? It was impossible! It had to be someone else's
fault...


     Cearda arrived to find a most unpleasant scene. Demona,
recovored from death already, hoisted young Iolair up against a
stone cliff face, snarling. Iolair's face was terrified, and
there was evidence he had taken a lot of beating, and been unable
to resist the fierceness of the attack.
     "YOU! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Demona accused him. She slashed
at her again, and blood flew.
     Cearda approached the scene. Demona paused to regard her
second, as Cearda laid the body of Kreiger at Demona's feet.
Releasing her captive, Iolair stumbled away from each of them,
opened her torn wings, and found a convenient place in the forest
below. She collapsed onto a stone ledge, layed down, and removed
the amulet from around her neck. She turned to stone instantly.


     Kreiger? Dead? Demona shook her head. It was impossible!
That traitor! Iolair must die! With a snarl of outrage, she
pushed past the mourful Cearda, to track down her quarry. She
found Iolair, changed to stone, against a ledge. Demona reeled up
a fist, preparing to smash the statue.
                      *     Perotessa     *
     "DEMONA!  DO NOT!"
     Incredulously, Demona turned to stare at her Second. 
     "What?  You would save this one?  why?!"
     Cearda clutched a hand around the Stone of Long Life as she
knelt by the side of her dead mate. "Would killing Iolair bring
him back?  Would killing one bring back Char?" 
     Demona glared at the stone Iolair, terror on her face.  Then
at the almost serene Cearda. The contrast between the two was
what stopped her.
     She dropped her hand with a sickened whimper and fell to her
knees.  "What have I done?  What have I done?"
     Cearda, tears streaming down her face, said softly, "Taken
the first steps toward healing.  It was you Demona who wanted to
find Chernobog. It was you who wanted to release him into the
world of Man. It was you who gave him Sacrifice. It was you who
lead Char to her death.  It was you who brought us all to the
brink of death."
     Demona turned on her Second swiftly. "What do you mean *it
was all my fault*?!"
     Cearda looked at her; really looked at her. Her eyes locked
onto Demona's own. "Wasn't it?"
     Demona's face twisted into an enraged snarl then crumpled
into sorrow, disbelief, and finally acceptance. Mournful sobs
forced their way up her throat as she put her face into
bloodstained hands and began to cry.
     Cearda stroked and smoothed Krieger's wild mane.
Straightened out his limbs and put him to *rest*.  She remembered
what had happened to the Gold Gargoyle of Byzantium when she
killed herself.  She wondered what would happen to Krieger if she
took the stone off.
     She needen't have worried about it. 
     For the first time in her life she looked at the world as it
was when the sun was in the sky.  The colors were so bright and
vibrant. Flowers that were closed at night, had opened and now
showed off their petles.  The air even smelled different.  She
took a deep breath of morning air then released it.
     "It's a new... day." she said softly.  "A new day and a new
beginning for all of us."
     "Indeed it is."
     She looked up and saw the star white Beylnabog still in his
gargoyle shape.  He was *immense* as gargoyles went. But maybe
*puny* as Gods went. She sniffled yet felt a lightness come to
her spirit. She wondered how that could be since Krieger was dead
and she should be in mourning.
     "Beylnabog... now that Chernobog is returned to his prison
what will you do?"
     The star white gargoyle began to shrink, becoming smaller; a
*regular* gargoyle's size.  He lighty touched down on the stone
mountain top and caped his shining wings.
     "I will return to my celestial home." he said. His voice the
sound of a thousand stars.
     Cearda nodded and looked down at Krieger's mangled flesh.
     She felt, on her shoulder, a touch as light as goose down.
She looked up into the White God's shining gargoyle face. "My
Lord?"
     Beylnabog straightened, took his hand away. "For your help
in capturing Chernobog I am willing to grant you a boon, my
daughter."
     Cearda blinked in surprise. "A boon?"
     The starlit gargoyle nodded. "Anything your heart desires."
     Cearda looked down at Krieger and felt a clenching of her
heart. "Anything?" she whispered.
     "Yes....."
     She nodded faintly then spoke. "I know what I want my lord. 
But before I make my request I would ask you a question."
     "Ask."
     "Are gargoyles the children of the Dark or of the Light?"
     Beylnabog was silent. Cearda looked up into his face
wondering if he would answer her or not.  "Gargoyles," he began
slowly. "Are MY children."
     Cearda swallowed nervously knowing that she must ask. "If we
are of the light then why do we *live* only at night?"
     Beylnabog slowly lowered himself to the ground sitting
across from Cearda; separated from her by Krieger's body.  "I
created the gargoyle to protect man, his sibling.  For the night
is a very scary time for humans.  I created gargoyles to protect
Man from those things that he fears.  From the things in the
dark.  From Chernobog's evil creations. 
     "I wished that the humans would *protect* the gargoyle
during the day. And be thankful for their protection their
strength, their commitment but it didn't work out that way.
     "I realized that I had made a mistake.  I have heard the
cries of my children and have been slowly calling them home.  Yet
there are those who either can not hear me, or refuse to hear me. 
Your Demona is one of those."
     Cearda spared Demona a quick look. The redmaned gargoyle was
still crying; coming to terms with her hand in the destruction of
her clan. "She can not see you?" she asked.
     Beylnabog shook his head. "Sadly no.  Only those who have
been one with the Light can truly be saved."
     Cearda looked at Beylnabog, "One with the Light?"
     "You know what I mean." he said.
     Cearda looked away thinking back to another time... another
life.  
                            ~~~~~~~~~
     The air was warm as it always was in Constantinople.  Warm
and filled with tantalizing scents. Cearda wondered if the city
was half as exciting during the day as it was at night.  She
grinned hugely.  It had been years since she had felt so free.
     She looked over her shoulder, back toward the temple. 
Within, her wings caped, the Gold Gargoyle moved about slowly. 
Cearda had no idea how old she was. All she knew was that she had
been waiting for....her for over five hundred years. The golden
stone at her throat extending her life.
     "Cearda.  Come here, please."
     Cearda turned and entered the temple. The Gold Gargoyle had
taken off her jewelry.  She wore only her light clothes.  With
the heat it seemed wisest.  "My....Mother." said Cearda. She knew
what was expected of her. 
     It still came as a sock to her that this old gargoyle
*expected* her to call her mother.  For the Gold Gargoyle truly
believed that she, Cearda was in fact her long lost daughter.  A
daughter who had she lived, been given the task of protecting all
of Constantinople and all of its people. But not only that! 
Being the Protector of Constantinople also meant that you were
Oracle of Byzantium. Twice, the  Gold Gargoyle had given Cearda
and Demona a *taste* of her immense powers. Powers she had gained
when she had learned to master the Stone of Long Life.
     The Gold Gargoyle heavily sat down on her stone *thrown*
gasping for breath.
     "My Daughter...." she sighed.
     Cearda sat down at the Oracle's feet and looked up at her. 
Demona had left but would be back soon; the sun was about to
rise.
     The Gold Gargoyle took Cearda's hand in her own and smiled
tiredly. "As you know, I have longed for this day.  I have been
the Oracle long past my time. The Stone extending my life long
beyond it's true span.  And now, my Daughter it is your turn.  My
time is at an end. And your time is about to begin."
     One hand reached up and smoothed back Cearda's pale gold
hair. "Being Oracle of Byzantium is a great responsibility.  Soon
you will not be able to leave the temple. Soon the darkness will
swallow this place and you must be strong.  Strong for the people
that will turn to you, begging you for your help, your strength. 
Strong for the Doge.
     "To help you find that strength I bequeath to you the Stone
of Long Life. Within it's depths you will learn what it means to
be Oracle. It will open your mind and show you the Light.  With
the Light you will be able to understand humans.  To understand
their suffering. To understand their *need*."
     Cearda looked up into the kindly golden face and knew that
this was going to be the last time she saw her. This gargoyle
that looked *SO* much like her!  Their resemblance was amazing. 
If she had ever known who her mother was, she wished that she was
like this Gargoyle.
     The Gold Gargoyle looked past Cearda hearing the returning
Demona.
     "It is now time." she said.  She straightened, pulled her
hands from Cearda's, and slipped the Stone from around her neck.
     "You must wear the Stone." she said lowering the long golden
chain around Cearda's head.  Cearda looked on dazed.  She had
never expected this! Never!
     "Mother-!"
     The Gold Gargoyle embraced her, silencing her with her
touch. "Hush my girl....All will be well."
     She pulled away slightly her mouth close to Cearda's ear. "I
love you.  Always remember that.  I will always be with you, here
within your heart. I will always be close."
     And then she was standing up, leaving Cearda sitting there
trembling.  She rose and slowly made her way to the lightening
doorway of the temple.
     Demona watched her; her jaw dropped in surprise and
astonishment.  "Great Mother?"
     The Gold Gargoyle put a hand on Demona's shoulder. "You will
watch her will you not?  It is a great responsibility I am
leaving her with, leaving you both with.  The people need you."
     Demona stuttered, "Ooooff...of...of cou...course!"
     The older female *smiled* slowly and continued outside. 
     Cearda scrambled to her feet and rushed after her. She KNEW
that something was going to happen. The *great queen* was going
to DO something!  She stopped momentarily at Demona's side a
question in her eyes.  Demona shook her head shrugging.  They
followed silently the Gold Gargoyle.
     The *queen* stopped at the edge of the temple's roof, gazing
off to the east.  "Soon my Daughters. Soon the sun will rise and
you will see the Light for yourself. And I will join the Light!"
     She stepped up to the edge of the roof still watching for
the first of the sun's rays.  
     She tuned, looked over her shoulder. "Farewell." and leapt. 
Up and out.  Her wings spread but there wasn't any lift! As she
came to the arch of her jump the first ray of sunlight speared
its way through the surrounding buildings.
     "NOOOOO!" Screamed Cearda. She would have followed if it
wasn't for Demona's restraining hand.
     The Gold Gargoyle began to fall silently.
     Cearda wanted to look away but couldn't.
     The golden wings glinted with the first morning light.  The
body became impaled on the iron spikes of the roof below.  And
still the Gold Gargoyle made no sound.
     Her body run through in a dozen different places; death
would come soon.
     The run rose fully, bathing the impaled gargoyle within it's
light.  The last thing Cearda saw as her eyes lost their sight
was the body of the Gold Gargoyle, the Oracle of Byzantium, split
apart. Her body turning into stone.

     Cearda lost all *real* sight.  But knew that she was
captured within the dream world.  Darkness.  It was night.
Nightime in Byzantium.  She was...alone.  On the same rooftop
that the Gold Gargoyle had just leapt from.
     Cearda looked over the edge and saw the stone rubble that
used to be living flesh.  She gave one strangled gasp and quickly
jumped from the ledge; her wings giving her the power to direct
herself to a safe landing point.
     Carefully she made her way to the spot where her *mother*
had died. 
     "Oh....Mother...." she said softly and began to cry.
     There was a great flash of light.  She looked up quickly.  
     A star twinkled then fell.  Fell yet began to come closer.
Toward her!  She scuttled backwards but the light only grew in
intensity and size.  Until it was too bright to even look at. She
shielded her eyes and turned her face away.
     "Cearda...."
     A voice unlike any she had ever heard in her life called her
name.  Squinting she hazarded a look at the light and found that
she *Could* look at it; into it.  That it hurt but that the pain
was good, purifying.  It was the Light that spoke to her.
     "Cearda.  Why do you fear Child.  Do you no know that you
are a part of me?  That you have nothing to fear?"
     She mutely shook her head. "You hurt me!"
     "Fear not.  Open your eyes and you will find that your hurt
is gone.  Accept me Cearda and you will find that you have lived
only a half life.  Accept me Cearda and live as you were meant to
live."
     Cearda shook her head confused, "As I was meant?"
     "As Thalia wanted you to live. As you were meant to live.
Helping people.  And in helping people helping yourself."
     She blinked.  Slowly she rose the golden Stone up to eye
level and looked into it's depths.  She could *feel* a strange
buzzing coming from the Stone. The vibrations grew stronger until
her whole body was shaking with them.
     "I....I..."
     "Fear not, Cearda." said the voice soothingly. "fear not." 
     With her head, Cearda felt all  the doors open all her
emotions came pouring forth.  She knew what she must do and how
to do it, and that she COOULD do it!  She didn't fear!  She
understood! 
     There was nothing to fear...she would know.
     Always.
     "I will be strong for those who are not strong.  I have
nothing to fear for I have seen the Light and it is pure.  The
Light is the Truth and it shall show us the way."
                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     Cearda blinked then looked at Byelnabog. "It was YOU that
night!"
     The White God nodded. "Yes. And I told you not to fear. And
you didn't. You became the Oracle of Byzantium and a good one.  I
was disappointed when you left but you had your reasons. The
people needed you Cearda and you did well in helping them."
     Cearda touched the Stone of Long Life with trembling
fingers. "I... understood them." she said softly. "And I now
understand what you want of me."
     "Do you?"
     "Yes... My Lord."
     Beylnabog rose from his sitting position and looked down at
her. "So... I owe you boon.  What is it you want?"
     "Can you return *people* from the dead?" she asked faintly.
     Beyla looked at the slain form of Krieger and slowly shook
his head. "No... I can not.  I can create life though. And I can
hold him for you until that time you truly need him."
     "W... will... he return to me?" she asked brokenly.
     Belyna made a soft clicking sound with his tongue. "Yes...
he will return to you.  One day.  Alive hearty, and whole."
     Cearda sobbed, pressing her face into Krieger's chest. 
Crying for what was lost to her.
     Slowly her cried subsided. She rose her broken mate in her
arms. "Then I ask you, take him. Heal him."
     Beylna nodded and took Krieger into his own arms. "I will do
as you have asked.  And I will continue to watch over you." he
promised.
     Cearda wiped away her tears with a clinched fist. "My love."
She let out a small breath then stepped back.  "I will do as you
command me, My Lord."
     Beylna smiled. "You will do as you have been doing.  Live!"
     He spread his shinning wings and began to rise in the air.
"My Daughter!"
     With a great flash of light he was gone, Krieger, the black
stones of Chernobog's prison that kept the gargoyles flesh,  and
the whole nightmare with him.
     A lone red bird fluttered down and perched on the stone
gargoyle's shoulder.  It looked at a second  gargoyle on a ledge
with torn wings and then a third gargoyle that was couched down
weeping.
     It cocked it's head, knowing the gargoyles for who they were
but not *understanding* why they were on the mountain top.
     It *shrugged*, opened it's mouth and began to sing in the
clear morning air.
                   *     Eagle of Arabia     *
     There was a long moment, as Cearda watched the bird. But
then she turned, struggling with the colliding emotions in her
heart, and laid down against the stoneface, to sleep until
sunset.  
     "Well, Cearda?" Iolair's voice inquired.  
     Cearda looked up at her. She must have slept, as the sun had
fallen now. "Well, Iolair?"  
     "I think I should have had a bit more faith when I was told
to just have faith that you would find your answer. I watched
you, and you seemed to have all the answers already."  
     Cearda was startled. "You knew?"  
     Iolair sighed, sliding down to sit beside her. "No. But
something was going to happen. All they told me was that I had be
here. I didn't know that I would be an instigator."  
     Cearda looked over at Demona. "Don't blame yourself -- you
didn't cause it."  
     Iolair nodded.  
     "What will you do now?"  
     Iolair was puzzled. "Do? I've nothing else to do for now. My
once-mate-to-be is dead, and her egg is yet years from hatching.
That, and I'm --"  
     Cearda nodded. "Female."  
     Iolair looked uncomfortable, and stood up again, anxiously.
"I'll meet you back at council."  
     "You are staying with us?"  
     Iolair paused, but did not reply.