Alex approached the stone arch and shook his head sadly. All around was destruction. Chunks of the frieze broken off. Scattered bricks. A lion that had helped them weeks earlier lay on the grass curled in a fetal position. Motionless. Overhead, its mate tried to hold up Spain’s coat of arms with one pitiful paw while clinging to a crumbling keystone with the other.
A few cube-shaped Artanians wandered up and down the path as if lost. More victims of amnesia.
Then Alex saw two wolves he had sculpted for the battle. They were putting up a good fight when he’d been jerked away. But now neither moved. Intertwined, one furry head rested on the other. Eyes forever closed.
“Damnit!” Alex said. “No matter what we friggin’ do, it’s always the same. Why do I even try?”
“Because you make a differ
