Curse of the Gargoyles (Gargoyle Guardian Chronicles Book 2) by Rebecca Chastain Page A

breathe.”
    I felt him swallow against my forearm and hastily relaxed my stranglehold. Belatedly remembering his back, I did my best to shift my weight to the vise grip of my thighs around his hips while concaving my stomach away from his wounds.
    “What are you doing?” Velasquez asked.
    “Trying not to hurt you.”
    “Cut it out. You’re making it worse.” His footsteps hadn’t slowed or altered during my adjustments.
    “Sorry, Velasquez.”
    “Call me Marcus. And relax. I’m about as fragile as the gargoyles you heal.”
    “Modest, too, Marcus,” I muttered, knowing he’d hear me.
    He flexed, and his shoulder muscles hardened like stones beneath my arms in a silent testament to his boast. I reminded myself that he had to be made of tough stuff to be in an FPD squad. A lot tougher than me. More tears than I was proud of had escaped while I’d been extricating my foot. I hoped he was too preoccupied to notice when they dripped from my chin to soak into his shirt.
    “Hold tight. I’ll have to take these stairs faster,” Marcus said. His voice rumbled against my chest, and I realized I’d sagged against him. He’d made good time across the boulder field and had already reached the first unnatural block of granite. The front line of the polarization field expanded half as fast as a normal walking pace, with alarmingly frequent jumps as various parts of the massive constructive weave encountered fresh elemental magic to feed on. The crack and snap of growing rock had become a constant, and what had started as a handful of jutting teethlike pillars along the front edge of the field had expanded to a series of uneven steps building toward the sky. The leading edge was already taller than Marcus. Only the rise of the hill naturally dampening the wind currents had prevented the pillars from shooting up higher.
    I tightened my grip on Marcus as he powered up the first steep steps. Granite scraped and grated behind us, sounding as if the rocks were chasing us, a great attacking stone monster perpetually one step away from hamstringing Marcus and taking us both down for the kill.
    Marcus let go of my right leg to use his hand for balance. I did my best to remain still on his back, both because it was the only way I could be helpful and because every time my foot was jarred, pain spiked all the way to my knee.
    For several steps, Marcus moved parallel with the outer edge of the bubble and I could see the air section. I looked for Oliver, but I couldn’t find him through the haze of the fire section. Lightning skittered through the polarized fire with increased frequency, held at bay by the flimsy-looking wall of the purifier’s helixes. The bright flashes left afterimages on my vision; the thunder deafened me.
    “Almost there,” Marcus said through ragged breaths.
    The leading edge of the polarization bubble stretched a few feet in front of us. Outside it, the interlocking helixes narrowed to a mass no thicker than my waist, and from our new height, I spotted the end of the fire–earth braid.
    “Look! The purifier stops there.” I pointed to a pile of boulders ahead of us and to our left. The fire–earth braid fed into the rocks, but it didn’t come out the other side. “Maybe it’s weakening.” Given the oppressive stillness of the air and the swelling cacophony of the granite around us, I amended my hope. “Or it has a finite reach.”
    Marcus hopped to a higher pillar, sidestepping the curl of granite that followed his foot.
    “Or it found another patient for you,” he said.
    I spotted the gargoyle among the boulders. The foxlike gargoyle’s dull tigereye body and dirt-brown wings blended into the rocks—or they would have if a massive malicious braid of magic hadn’t speared into her.
    “Oh no! Hurry!” If she’d been subject to the purifier’s dividing magic this whole time, it had to be tearing her apart.
    “Working on it,” Marcus grunted.
    The ground beneath us rumbled and the pillars