“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It’s something you have to be a part of to understand.”
“That’s so cool. I can’t wait to see it.”
“See it?” Amka laughs. “You should compete in it.”
“Me?” I’m aghast. “No way can I compete against a bunch of vampires and dragons. I mean, what am I going to do? Turn to stone? I’m pretty sure that’s not much help in a competition.”
“Don’t be so negative. Gargoyles can do a lot more than turn to stone, Grace.”
“They can?” Excitement bubbles up in my voice. “Like what?”
“You’ll figure it out soon enough.”
I’m a little annoyed—that’s not much of an answer—and my shoulders sag, but then she turns around and points to one of the heavy wooden tables in the corner of the library. There are about three dozen books piled into several haphazard stacks, plus a laptop sitting right in front of a comfortable-looking armchair in a patchwork of colors.
“I took the liberty of pulling every book we have about gargoyles. The piles on either side of the laptop are the ones I think you should start with—they approach things pretty broadly and give a good overview. The back piles are more nitty-gritty research-oriented stuff and will answer more specific questions you might have as you learn more.
“And the laptop is already signed in to the top three magical databases in the world. If you have any questions about how to use them to research, let me know. But to be honest, they’re pretty self-explanatory. I think you’ll do fine.”
Despite not being a crier—I’ve never been a crier—I can feel tears burning the back of my throat for, like, the third time today. I hate it, absolutely despise it, but I can’t seem to help it. I feel so topsy-turvy, and realizing so many people have my back…it’s just a little overwhelming.
Or a lot overwhelming. I haven’t decided yet.
“Thank you,” I tell her when my throat finally relaxes enough for me to speak. “I…I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, Grace. Anytime.” She smiles. “We bibliophiles need to stick together.”
I grin back. “Yeah, we do.”
“Good.” She reaches behind her to the small, stickered refrigerator she keeps next to her workspace and pulls out a can of lemon La Croix and a Dr Pepper and hands them to me. “Researching is thirsty work.”
“Oh, wow.” I take the cans from her with suddenly shaky hands. “Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Just get to work,” she says with a wink.
“Yes, ma’am.” I give her one last smile and then head toward the table in the corner.
My fingers are itching to dive in to the books—and so is the rest of me, to be honest—but I take a few minutes to get situated before I start. I pull out the notebook I’ve designated just for my research and a handful of my favorite pens.
I put in my earbuds and get my favorite playlist going before pulling out the pack of M&M’s I bought at the vending machine in the student lounge on my way here. Then, and only then, do I settle into what very well might be the most comfortable chair in existence…and finally reach for a book.
I just hope it has some of the answers I need.And I wouldn’t mind a good memory retrieval spell, too…
24
Go Smudge Yourself
“Gra-ace. Come on, time to wake up.” A familiar voice penetrates the hazy fog of sleep that surrounds me. “Come on, Grace. You need to get up.” Someone taps my shoulder.
I swipe a hand across my face. Then roll over and curl up into a ball.
“I don’t know what to do.” This time I’m conscious enough to identify the voice as Macy’s, even though I have no idea who she’s talking to or even what she’s talking about. Nor do I care.
I’m so tired, all I want to do is sleep.
“Let me try.” This time it’s my uncle Finn who bends over me and says, “Grace, I need you to wake up for me, okay? Open your eyes. Come on. Right now.”
I ignore him, curling into an even tighter ball, and when he runs a comforting hand over the top of my head, I moan and try to pull my pillow over my face. But there’s no pillow under my head and no covers for me to yank up and hide beneath.
I’m almost conscious enough to recognize this as strange—almost—and when someone shakes my shoulder more forcefully this time, I manage to crack my eyes open just enough to see Macy, my uncle, and Amka staring down at me, all with worried looks on their faces.