Author's Note
Just a few things: first, I have decided to change gargoyle physiology somewhat. Gargoyles no longer turn to stone while sleeping. Now it's only when they die.
Second, this upcoming month is Nanowrimo, and I am planning on participating. This involves writing a 50,000-word novel in just thirty days. To help me keep working on this, I intend to post it here, as soon as I'm done with this one. So keep your eyes peeled, and if possible, please help me feel motivated to keep writing.
Morgan Hartford was walking down the street, on the way to pick up her daughters* from nursery school, when she saw Xen Wormwood sitting at a table outside of a cafe.
Even though her head was buried in her claws, that red hair was recognizable anywhere.
“Xen? Are you okay?”
She jumped a foot when she heard her voice, and quickly glanced up.
“Wha-? Oh. Hi.”
Her face looked normal, not blotchy at all, but her voice had cracked the tiniest bit.
“Tristan isn't back yet?” Morgan sat down across from her. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
She sighed, running a claw through her hair. “My mom’s here, helping look after Phil. I just-feel very helpless right now. I don’t even know how he’s doing. Or if he’s even alive. I’d like to think he is, since he’s a survivor, but-you know.”
“I think I understand. What if we try to do something to help you feel less useless? Calla could tell us what he's trying to do, and maybe we can find something useful and Calla can think of a way to get the information to him.”
“I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to steal a sword from Koschei the Deathless.” But she sat up straighter, and pulled out her phone. “Maybe Calla can create a scrying glass or something that can help her find him.”
A few minutes later, the reply came back, and she held it out to let Morgan see.
Baba Yaga let me use her glass. I haven’t told her everything, because she might try to stop me from helping, even though that wasn’t strictly speaking in the rules. He’s alive, but looks awful.
Xen sagged against the table in relief.
“There’s one less thing to worry about,” she whispered. Then she typed furiously, Where?
In a forest, it looks like. He’s paying a lot of attention to the hollow trees.
Xen frowned, and rubbed her forehead.
“That sounds familiar…”
“Koschei the Deathless... Hollow trees... He's looking for the soul!”
“Yes!” The frown intensified. “That doesn’t bode well. Maybe he’s planning on using it to bargain for the sword. Anyone who gets the soul could control him with it. Or even kill him.” She tapped her claws agitatedly. “Things are getting serious over there if he’s going that far.”
“It must be. Can you think of any way we could help him?”
“We need to check the library.” And before she could protest, Morgan found herself being grabbed by the wrist and pulled in the direction of the library. It wasn’t until they were there and halfway through their research that she remembered, in horror, that her children were still at the nursery school waiting for her.
“I'll be right back, Xen!”
“What-”
Morgan didn’t stop to explain, just running out as quickly as she could.
Poppy and Rebecca’s teacher, Mrs. Flaversham, was waiting anxiously outside the building.
“There ye are, Mrs. Hartford! The girls have been worried to death! Rebecca’s been thinking ye’ve abandoned them!”
A familiar tearstained face peeked out from the door behind the caorthannach, looking somewhat relieved to see Morgan there.
“Oh, Rebecca, I'm sorry!”
Poppy looked out next. “Momma!” She glanced at Rebecca. “I told you she’d come for us.” But she looked equally relieved that Morgan had finally showed up, skipping out into her arms.
“I was about to take them home myself, but I’m glad you came,” said Mrs. Flaversham, mollified.
“I'm so sorry!” Morgan hugged her children to her, trying to console them. At least Friedrich had an extra hour of school left, so she didn’t have to worry that she’d forgotten him too.
Xen looked very shamefaced when Morgan returned with her little girls.
“Sorry. I forgot that you probably needed to pick them up.”
“It's all right, I forgot too.”
Xen showed her the pile of books she’d picked out. Many of them were old Russian fairy tale books, or just completely in Russian. A few were very ancient-looking, leather texts.
“There’s a lot of contradictory tales about where Koschei’s soul is. In some stories, it’s already been found and destroyed. But we know that’s not true.”
“What’s a koschei?” asked Poppy.
“It’s not a what. It’s a who. Koschei the Deathless is a very bad man who has hidden his soul, and Tristan’s trying to find it,” Xen explained.
Rebecca looked a little perplexed. “If he doesn’t have a soul...then isn’t he dead?”
“I wish.”
“Poppy, how about you take Rebecca to the children's section?”
“Kay.”
Rebecca started to protest, “But-” But Poppy pulled her off.
Xen gave her an unapologetic stare. “It would solve a lot of problems right now if he was dead.” Then she looked horrified. “Did I just say that?”
“You're under stress. It makes sense.”
With a sigh, she went back to looking at the works. “Generally in the stories, if someone is looking for his soul, they need to get the help of some obscure bird or something which somehow knows its location. Two people who actually managed to beat him once, according to this-” she passed over a book- “are Ivan and Marya, centuries ago. Marya used to be a guard over Koschei, until Ivan accidentally set him free, but eventually they beat him together by finding his soul and commanding him never to harm either of them again.” Xen pulled out her phone, sending a text to Calla. “And, of course, the details are hazy on how they actually found his soul. D____t.” Then she glanced at Morgan. “Sorry.”
Morgan put a hand on her shoulder. “It might be in another book somewhere. Don’t worry, we’ll find it.”
*Besides Poppy, Morgan and Nathan had adopted a troll named Friedrich, and a little golden-haired girl named Rebecca who was half-mage, half-demon. Rebecca’s story is a very interesting one indeed...but it will have to wait for later.
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