but what is it?”
Gargoth slowly got to his feet and waddled over to his friends. He turned his back on them and opened his little wings wide. “See there, between my wings, is there a mark?” he asked.
Katherine moved in closely to see what he meant. She held her head close to the little gargoyle’s back (but didn’t breathe in too deeply, Gargoth’s burnt flesh smell still lingered about him). Then she saw it: a small mark about the size of a coin, right between his shoulders, slightly closer to his right wing.
It was two diamonds one on top of the other, inside a circle, like this:
“I see it, Gargoth. But what is it?”
“It is my beacon, Katherine. It is also the mark of my creator, the stonemason who made me. He carved one on every statue that he made. But in the whole world there are only two living gargoyles who carry this mark, as far as I know. I have one…and Ambergine has the other.”
Chapter Nine
Ambergine:
Among University Students
The little gargoyle shook her wings...
They were heavy and tired. She huddled deep into the marble wall behind the soldier from a long-ago war. She was looking out over another busy street, but far from the water now. She had looked for days in the houses and backyards and gardens around the angel but found nothing. The statues she had found to hide her this time were in the middle of a large university. It was a group of soldiers and angels, some with wings like hers, or with guns or swords. She liked the students walking below her: they all looked busy and had much to say.
Tonight she was going to search along the road called Queen Street, where she knew there was a store called the Golden Nautilus. She had already seen it from overhead, and it looked like the kind of place that had gargoyles.
She yawned. She would have to get ready to fly soon. Night was coming.
If Ambergine had peeked out from her hiding place, she might have noticed an old man standing at the foot of the soldier statue she was hiding in. But it’s just as well that she didn’t.
He was wearing thick glasses, a white straw hat, and a big baggy brown jacket. He was looking straight up, right at her hiding spot, as if he were waiting for something. The setting sun shining right into his eyes didn’t seem to bother him one bit.
Chapter Ten
The Story Begins
The candles blazed.
Katherine and Cassandra were seated on their lawn chairs, Gargoth was on his cushion looking up at the sky. “Are you ready then?” he asked.
“Yep. Are you ready for Gargoth’s story, Cassandra?” Katherine asked.
Cassandra didn’t even look up from her knitting. “Yes!”
“Here it is then, a long story, about a time long ago,” Gargoth said. And with that simple introduction, he began. “As you know Katherine, I was created in England in 1604. I was made by a master stonemason, a Frenchman. He travelled far and wide through villages and towns, using his skill to make beautiful statues, or to add elegant finishing touches to buildings of stone. His name was Tallus…”
“Oh! That’s why you’re Gargoth of Tallus!” Kath-erine exclaimed.
Gargoth shot her a dark look and said, “That’s correct. Now quiet please, Katherine. This is a long story, and we’ll never get through it if you interrupt me.
“I believe I may have been his final creation. No one ever heard of the master French stonemason Tallus after 1604.
“The little churchyard where I was created was a beautiful place. There was once a brotherhood of monks who lived in the church, and they planted an apple orchard and many beautiful flowers and bushes, but the brothers were all gone by the time I arrived. King Henry VIII didn’t like monasteries and had shut them all down years before.”
“Why?” Katherine asked.
Gargoth shot her another dark look and sighed. “Look, if I go into all the ins-and-outs of English history, we’ll never leave this rooftop. Look it up—it was called the Dissolution of the Monasteries. That ‘net’ on the box you like should be able to tell you about it.” Katherine knew that Gargoth was referring to the Internet and her computer. She made a mental note to learn more about King Henry VIII.
Gargoth took a few puffs of his pipe. “It was a lovely place, but I was completely alone. There was another statue in the churchyard, an ancient stone lion, but I hated it. It wasn’t alive like me, just a lump of cold stone. How I would rage at it! How I wished it were alive, just to have someone to talk to. It reminded me, every day, of how lonely I was.
“I was alone for years, decades. England went through a terrible civil war, and still I hid in the church tower, all alone.
“Then one day, a young boy arrived in the church-yard. He came with his father to pick the apples in the old orchard: people were starving in England at that time and had to eat whatever they could find. They came year after year. Winter would come, and I wouldn’t see him again until late the next summer. Finally, when he was almost a man, I decided I would speak to him.
“His name was Philip, and he was the first friend I ever had.”
Gargoth’s Story, 1664
The Empty Basket
The boy reached gingerly into the grass and picked up the half-eaten apple core. He left the basket of apples he was collecting at the bottom of the apple tree and walked toward the church.
“That’s the third time this week,” he said to himself. “Whoever is doing this is a really good shot.” As if to remind himself of this fact, he rubbed the back of his head where the apple core had just hit him.
He brushed off his breeches. He looked carefully up into the church tower, still holding the apple core. He raised his hand to shade his eyes from the glare of the setting sun.
“HULLOO,” he finally shouted. “I know you’re up there. There are plenty of apples for everyone; you don’t have to throw them at me.”
He waited and listened, but there was no answer. So he tried again.
“HELLO! Whoever you are, you’d better come out now and give yourself up. I know you’ve been throwing apples at me when I’m out here in the orchard.”
ZING! An apple core whizzed right at him. He ducked behind a tree just in time to hear it smack the other side, hard. He stuck his head out from behind the tree, and shouted, “STOP IT! What are you doing?”
At that moment, he saw the basket of apples he had just picked disappear behind a tree. He jumped up to run toward it but quickly had to take cover.
Someone was throwing the entire basket of apples at him! Each time he stuck his head out, trying to catch a glimpse
