Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Triumph?” Edgar asked with a beaming smile, standing in front of his creation, tucked in the back corner of the pavilion. I wondered if that was by choice, luck, or the mercy of the establishment. “Heartfelt homage to the great gargoyle?” He turned and pointed. “Look! I even used that little figurine Jessie got as a conduction gift.”
“Connection request gift, I think he means,” Ulric said, spotting the little statue at the same time as the rest of us. It was the little gargoyle with stained glass wings that had so repulsed Mr. Tom.
“Yes.” Edgar put his hands behind his back. “Niamh said it was a great favorite.”
“I knew you were behind this.” Mr. Tom pointed at her, standing on the other side of our crew.
“What’s the fun of a practical joke if ye can’t make it a big one.” Niamh grinned…and then smiled…and then started to cackle.
“Horrible,” Mr. Tom sputtered. “Absolutely horrendous. I’ve never seen such a degrading display! A slight to our kind. A stick in our eye!”
“I don’t think that little…statue thing is the real issue here,” Ulric said.
“That is definitely not the real issue here!” Jasper said loudly, his fists balled. “I can actually feel the crazy emanating off this exhibit. Miss Jessie…” He turned to me, his eyes wild, shaking his head. “I can’t… This is… I can’t…” He closed his eyes, still shaking his head.
Niamh laughed harder, now echoed by Nessa.
“What’s the matter?” Edgar asked, imploring Mr. Tom. “Is this not the statue of the gargoyle god?”
Niamh doubled over at that. The guardians looked between each other and then at Tristan, who was standing back a ways, surveying everything with an uncustomary blank face except for some tightening around his eyes.
“Dang it, Niamh,” I grumbled. “If you scare Tristan off, I will never forgive you.”
“He had to be indoctrinated eventually,” she replied. “Might as well get it over with. There’s no way to escape it.”
Naomi had mentioned that Edgar was making a shrine using another statue we’d been gifted as a connection request—a kinda misshapen male figure—and here was the proof.
It stood in the middle of Edgar’s elaborate setup like a welcoming sentry. The head and face were covered in pink and white roses for hair, and it had a huge flower beard almost down to its chest. Daisies covered the eyes and some sort of ivy sash entwined with flowers draped over its chest. A string of tulips circled the waist and a grouping of sunflowers covered its junk like a cloth. The base was completely covered in flowers, and more grew in the ground just beneath it. Under the sash of ivy, bright red painted lines outlined the misshapen and twisted abs, two dots representing anatomically incorrect nipples.
A shallow pond glimmered in front of the statue, reflecting the light from overhead so it splashed across the statue and danced across the flowers. Stone pillars rose up at various heights, each of them displaying the kind of store-bought stone gargoyle used to scare people at Halloween. Ivy crawled up the cylinders, giving the display a nice pop of green. The stained-glass gargoyle was displayed in the uppermost corner, as though perched on an old church and readying to fly.
I hated to say it, because of how he’d worked that statue in the middle, but the actual layout was pretty good. There was a discernible pattern, unlike at Ivy House, and the colors worked with each other nicely. It made me wonder if the overkill at Ivy House was solely due to Edgar’s flower overproduction for the basajaunak. I struggled to remember what it had looked like before Dave.
“I felt an actual shrine would’ve been too much,” Edgar was saying, admiring his creation. “I mean, they didn’t give Jessie a shrine, did they? They merely gave her the god statue. So that gave me the idea of a natural light reflector pool and the offerings of flowers and decorations you see here.”
“Jessie, I hate to say this,” Ulric whispered, pushing in close, “because the vampire has his uses and he’s sweet in his own way, but maybe you should re-think your stance on retiring him.”
“And now, for the special part.” Edgar turned back with a sly grin. “No accusing me of cheating this year. These are not specially formulated flowers. I was going to use those, but Sebastian’s elixir made them too large. They simply wouldn’t do. I made these using my old recipe, and they worked out much nicer.”
I glanced at Austin in confusion, only then realizing he’d started to back away again, pointedly leaving this situation to me and/or Tristan.
“But…isn’t that old recipe also magical?” I asked.
“No, no.” Edgar waved that thought away. “That was just the local witch who helped me with that. Nessa says witches aren’t the same as mages. Since Dicks and Janes can also be witches, it stands to reason that witches shouldn’t be considered magical. So my old recipe is on the straight and narrow. It’s perfectly fine.”