25
Lawrence
I lay on my back and looked at the Fae sun, now heading toward the horizon of an impossibly blue sky. There weren't even any clouds to find shapes in, and irrational resentment curled up in my chest like a satisfied cat. Indeed, there was a grave sense of, "I told you so" pinging around the back of my brain. The longer I stayed in Faerie, the more I felt in touch with my gargoyle heritage and history. I had started writing things down, but I didn't know if my notes would make any sense to me when I got home.
If I got home. The thudding of my heart and the shallowness of my breath no matter how hard I tried to suck in the air made me doubt it. At least I could appreciate the irony of a gargoyle dying doing something noble in Faerie.
"Don't move."
Reine's soft voice made me
