Late that afternoon, Celaena stared at the ebony clock tower. It grew darker and darker, as if it somehow absorbed the sun’s dying rays. On top of it, the gargoyles remained stationary. They hadn’t moved. Not even a finger. The Guardians, Elena had called them. But Guardians to what? They’d scared Elena enough to keep her away. Surely, if they’d been the evil Elena mentioned, she would have just said it outright. Not that Celaena was considering looking for it right now—not when it could get her into trouble. And somehow wind up killing her before she could even become the King’s Champion.
Still, why did Elena have to be so oblique about everything?
“What’s your obsession with these ugly things?” Nehemia asked from beside her.
Celaena turned to the princess. “Do you think they move?”
“
