Sixteen
Gargoyle riding is a terrifying experience. Jarvis’s wings flap and heave, making for an exceptionally bumpy flight, and I constantly feel as though I’m clinging to the side of something rather than sitting on it. Chase hangs onto a harness fixed to the gargoyle’s back, and I keep my arms wrapped tightly around him and my head buried behind his back. He complains several times about having trouble breathing, but I don’t loosen my grip for a second. I could probably slow my fall if I tumbled off Jarvis, but I’d still have to hit the water at some point, and who knows what could be lurking beneath its dark surface.
After what feels like an excruciatingly long time, Jarvis drops through the air and lands clumsily on a ledge far above the base of the mountain. I let go of Chase and s
