In The Rain Stone Became Flight

“In the Rain Stone Became Flight” by Elizabeth Fenley

In the rain, they awoke. Silent stone sentinels atop the massive building.

Azvamenth stretched his wings, wiggled his talons, and yawned, revealing deadly fangs. He looked towards the column on his right.

Birsha was waking up too, unfurling her tail and rolling her horned head around in circles.

“Ubel, sister.”

“Ubel, brother.”

Taking flight simultaneously, Azvamenth on two wings, Birsha on six, they sailed to the crenelated tower to meet the others.

Tavarius, his wide, thickly muscled body arrived first, even without the benefit of wings. His landing echoed across the rooftop. He opened his long, canine-like muzzle and rolled out his tongue. “Ubel,” he growled as his thick tail stood straight as a lightning rod.

Keket, landed silently beside him, her long, slender body in catlike grace. Her eyes glowed purple as she greeted her gargoyle siblings in a dulcet purring.

“Ubel,” they replied in unison.

Birsha flapped all of her wings, luxuriating in the rain sluicing off them. Tavarius collected rain on his tongue and flipped in into his mouth.

Jaakobah called her salutations as she circled in the clouds above them, preferring to remain in dragon-like flight during the freedom the rains provided her, as she grew quite weary of long intervals stonebound.

All but Tavarius replied. Harsh feelings hung between the two.

Zyfario, as usual, was the last of the gargoyles to arrive. He was slow, almost reluctant to waking, taking no particular pleasure in either the rain or the movement. Yet, he always joined them.

“Ubel, Zyfario,” Ketet mewled, knowing he would not respond.

Zyfario’s corpulent sluglike body with stubby wings running the length of his back matched his demeanor. Immediately upon landing, he withdrew his meager legs and reverted to lying on his long, scaled belly as he did when the rains ceased.

The five of them, silent, watched the glory of the large, noisy, splashing raindrops as Jaakobah soared and dove and twirled in the dark sky above them.

They grinned, sharp fangs and rows of razored teeth meeting the deluge as the zags of lightning burst around them and the thunder roared its reply.

“I have missed this,” Azvamenth said. “How many cycles has it been since we last had such a splendid storm?”

Birsha, whose memory was the most reliable among the Clan of the Grotesques, replied, “Six. With twenty human cycles in the interval.” She alone was co-conscious during the dry sleep.

“What shall we do in our freedom this time?” Azvamenth inquired. He was the leader of the Clan; Birsha was his second.

“Fly,” replied Jaakobah, passing directly over their heads, her long dracoianic wings buffeting them with wet gusts.

“Nothing,” suggested the sloth-natured Zyfario.

“Hunt,” offered Keket. Tavarious barked his agreement.

“Birsha?” Azvamenth asked, turning to her.

“Visit the Others.”

The Clan of the Chimera ornamented the nearest ornate building within the city of Merovningia. The Clan of Cyrmantium inhabited the nearby city of Voiolette-ie-Dulce.

“We could look for other Clans,” Jaakobah suggested, as it necessitated more time in the skies. “Fly west to Appatoroic or north to Clarivoisse.”

“As long as we can hunt along the way,” Keket insisted.

“Agreed, hunt,” Tavarious added.

“Then we pair and fly to all three,” Azvamenth declared, the voice of Clan Decision. “Birsha and I north to Clarivoisse. Keket and Tavarious east to Merovningia—as the closest destination, it will afford you plenty of time to hunt. Jaakobah and Zyfario, west to Appatoroic. Next cycle we will explore southward.”

Zyfario groaned and rolled onto his back.

“I will go alone,” Jaakobah announced and disappeared into the clouds without waiting for a reply.

Azvamenth grinned hideously at Birsha, who gurgled low in her throat.

Zyfario closed his red eyes and settled into motionlessness on his back.

“Hunt.” Tavarious rose straight up with powerful acceleration, Keket instantly elegantly aloft, joining her partner.

Azvamenth and Birsha nodded to one another and took flight.

“The rain is ending,” Azvamenth looked toward Birsha.

“Yes, quickly,” she replied.

“There is not time to return.”

“No.”

They had been unable to find any other clans in Clarivoisse, finding it to be a smaller town than they had expected, with no grand buildings fit for ornate guardianship. Azvamenth and Birsha sat atop the clock tower, the only high stone structure in the town.

“Jaakobah will be able to fly fast enough to return.”

“And Zyfario has been there the entire rain.”

Azvamenth nodded.

“But Keket and Tavarious will be loath to give up the hunt in time.”

“Agreed. We must hope that they are close enough that the Clan of Chimera Merovningia will grant them temporary residence until the next cycle.”

“I suspect they will.”

Silence fell as the rain tapered to a drizzle. Both took a few moments to savor the rain, to move and to stretch before settling into appropriate places to solidify on the tower.

“Do you think the humans will notice our absence?” Birsha asked.

“Likely. Two instead of six is obvious. Although they may not notice two extras in Merovningia.”

“Yes. And here?”

“Unknown. We do not know what the people here are like. Hopefully, we will have a short dormancy, and we will be able to return immediately in the next cycle.”

“Yes.”

They felt their movement slowing, their bodies solidifying gradually upwards.

“Otradem, Birsha.”

“Otradem, Azvamenth.”

And, with the ceasing of the rain, they were stone.

The humans noticed the four missing gargoyles atop the building, but they dismissed it as storm damage, despite the fact that they found no remnants.

The humans had no differences to notice in Merovningia; Keket and Tavarious stubbornly pursued their prey until they became frozen deep in the woods mid-stride. No humans, as yet, had noticed the sudden appearance of odd stone figures amidst the trees.

In Clarivoisse, the humans noticed. They stood before the clock tower screaming and pointing. Some said the gargoyles were signs of God’s Wrath, of The End of Days. Priests perform exorcisms to no avail. The panicked citizens decided the abominations must be removed by smashing them into dust. They would do so the following morning.

That night, in the rain, they awoke.