Richard Knaak - The Gargoyle King

His answer was without hesitation. The crooked beak bobbed up and down. “Stratum help friend!”

While his enthusiasm was encouraging, that did not necessarily mean he would betray his master for her. Idaria had to be cautious. She had always had an affinity for animals, even more so than many other elves. Some said she was favored by the Fisher King, known to the Solamnics as the god Habbakuk.

The pendant continued to glow slightly. She noted Stratum’s gaze constantly flicker back to it. “Would you like to touch it?”

Again, the beak bobbed up and down. There seemed no reason it would not be safe to let the gargoyle examine it closer. Idaria held it forth.

Stratum put two tentative digits on the face. A low sound that resembled the cooing of a dove escaped the brutish creature. It was like a purring of a child.

As the gargoyle marveled at the artifact, Idaria delicately murmured, “Would you help me see my other friend?”

He did not pull away, but his gaze narrowed. “Other is chained above. Master command so.”

Feeling somewhat guilty for tricking the simple creature-even if he did serve such a vile lord-Idaria implored, “Please. He is my friend too. I would just see him. Stratum …”

Cocking his head, the gargoyle mulled it over. “Come,” he finally said, turning toward the door.

For Idaria, the way out was locked by some magic spell, but for Stratum, that was apparently not the case. He swung open the ancient door, which stirred up more dust and squealed much too loudly for the elf’s tastes, then hopped out into the passage beyond.

Nearly unable to believe her quick success, Idaria followed.

The corridors through which they passed had all been carved from the mountain and still retained the rough texture of it. They were wide enough for two gargoyles to move with wings half extended. The halls were also lit, albeit just barely, by blue crystals embedded at even intervals in each wall.

They also passed other closed chambers, none of which concerned Idaria other than the potential threat behind their doors. However, despite the low grunting Stratum made as he hurried along, no one emerged from any of them to investigate.

At the end of the third corridor, they came to a spiral staircase that had at some point in the past collapsed. As a frustrated Idaria peered up, Stratum suddenly seized her with one arm and, revealing the astounding strength of which even the least of gargoyles was capable, easily bore her aloft.

They passed one level then another and another. Idaria, who had caught only glimpses of the outside from the vision the gargoyle’s lord had summoned, wondered if they were in one of the towers.

At the next level, Stratum suddenly veered to where a railed landing still precariously tipped over the fallen staircase. The winged creature landed on a solid area, where the blackened floor of another corridor gave them firmer footing.

The end of the corridor lay just ahead, its short length further indicating that they were likely in one of the towers. Idaria looked around for any guard but spied nothing.

Stratum hopped down the neglected path. The elf followed. At the other end, they came upon a rusted door akin to the one from her own cell. The faint and ironic outline of a rising sun etched into the door still remained.

With an almost casual show of strength, the gargoyle ripped open the door.

Immediately, a frustrated roar erupted from within. There came the rattling of chains, many chains, and the sounds of struggle.

Idaria’s companion let out a frustrated hiss and urged her inside. As she obeyed, she saw the source of all the unwelcome noise.

Chasm was larger and broader of shoulder than Stratum. He was nearly the size of a tall human and broader of build than either Golgren or Tyranos. His maw was less pronounced than Stratum’s, and he was a duskier gray. Under a thick brow ridge, blazing eyes that bespoke of intelligence stared at the newcomers. If the gargoyle beside Idaria was among the least of his kind, then surely Chasm was among the most powerful.

But as powerful as Tyranos’s servant and the elf’s friend might be, even Chasm could do nothing against the many chains in which he had been bound. The gargoyle was wrapped tightly from head to foot, with his legs folded into his torso and his arms tucked behind him to further add to his torture. His wings were folded around his shoulders and limbs. Increasing his misery, he hung from a single chain emerging from the ceiling, which kept the gargoyle roughly three feet off the ground. In such a state, Chasm could not even roll back and forth, seeking leverage.

The chamber was otherwise empty save for decaying refuse that indicated that some of the monstrous flock had in the past used it for living purposes. Arched windows well above were the only reason that it did not stink more than it already did.

Stratum hissed something to Chasm, who growled back as best as his bound jaws could manage. Idaria moved past the smaller gargoyle to let Chasm see her.

He quieted instantly. She sensed the hope and trust in his eyes. Idaria stroked Chasm’s head to soothe him then made certain not to forget Stratum. If she hoped to escape, she needed the smaller gargoyle’s help.

“Stratum, I thank you for bringing me to him, but please, can you not help me let him down?”

Stratum hissed uneasily. He scratched at his beaklike muzzle, his mind clearly conflicted. “Master not like,” he finally began. “But you give Stratum name, make Stratum be Stratum.”

The gargoyle suddenly took off, fluttering upward. As Idaria watched, Stratum seized the chain. With a heavy grunt, he tore at one of the thick, oval links.

The link tore. Before Chasm could strike the floor, Stratum held tight to the lower portion of the chain. With amazing care, he lowered the larger gargoyle safely down.

Idaria rushed to Chasm. As she fought with the chains, Stratum rejoined her. He slipped his jaws around one part and bit down.

The chain snapped in two. With a tremendous growl, Chasm flexed.

Other chains flew away, one barely missing Idaria. She fell back as Tyranos’s servant finished freeing himself.

The two gargoyles faced one another over the elf. The tension and distrust was palpable. Idaria moved to defuse the situation by stepping between them. “Chasm, Stratum helped you. Stratum, Chasm is also my friend and, therefore, your friend too.”

Neither appeared completely convinced, but they calmed. Idaria exhaled. She stood at the threshold of freedom.

There came from elsewhere within the citadel the cries of many angry gargoyles.

Hissing, Stratum hopped toward the door. He peered into the gloom beyond.

“Coming,” he warned her.

Chasm seized the elf and indicated the windows. “We go!”

She looked to the smaller gargoyle. “Come, Stratum! Come with!”

He started to hop toward her then paused. She could read by his actions what he planned to do, all for her having given him a name.

“No, Stratum! Come with!” Chasm gripped her tightly then lifted her from the floor. However, he did not leave but hovered, awaiting the smaller gargoyle.

Stratum hissed. “Go!”

With a grunt, Chasm took off with his struggling charge. The flapping of wings and the shrieking of animalistic voices encroached from the corridor.

Chasm carried Idaria to one of the open windows. As they neared, a lone gargoyle landed there. However, Chasm barreled into the other creature, releasing the hold of one paw long enough to use his claws on the throat of the would-be attacker. Blood spattered Idaria, who was staring at the lone figure standing below.

Gargoyles poured into the chamber. Stratum let out a hiss and threw himself at them.

The rending sounds that came as Chasm flew into the dark, open sky echoed monstrously in Idaria’s ears. The wind blew away her tears.