Gargoyle Quest Read Online Free PDF Page B

stock-still. He knew this part of the park. He was, in fact, intimately familiar with it. After all, he’d spent centuries rooted in this spot as a stone gargoyle, exposed to the seasons and the elements, the world unraveling in an endless blur of images and sounds. Seeing the two massive statues flanking him, a griffin and a dragon, was like being reunited with two old friends.  
    The sound of his chirping cell phone shattered the moment. It had to be Rhianna. She’d insisted he get the modern-day communication device despite his numerous protests. He was about to check the incoming text when a bone-chilling scream reverberated through the park. It was followed by another sound—an animalistic shriek not of this earth.
    Only one creature could make such a sound. The realization turned his blood to ice.
    There was a gargoyle loose in Central Park.

C HAPTER F OUR

    AS THE MONSTER’S roar shattered the nighttime silence a second time, Artan’s mind raced. They’d destroyed the Eye of Balor and put an end to Cael’s gargoyle horde. It was impossible, and yet Artan knew that sound as he knew his own voice.
    The terrified cries of a man - most likely the the beast’s victim - galvanized Artan into action. Shaking off his paralysis, he burst into motion. Following the direction of the screams, he wished he was carrying the Blade of Kings on his side. He might have taken on a hapless mugger unarmed, but what chance did he stand against the winged nightmare? Nevertheless, the panicked screams for help couldn’t be ignored.  
    Within seconds, Artan arrived in a small clearing just as the man’s cries of terror and pain were abruptly silenced. Trees and thick undergrowth surrounded him, skeletal branches reaching out like bony fingers. Before him, patches of sickly moonlight revealed the creature. Its reptilian hide was dull and grey, the wings in constant motion. A nightmare from another age, a beast from the very pits of hell. With horror Artan witnessed the gargoyle burying its blood-caked maw into its victim.  
    He was too late.
    Artan cursed in frustration, drawing the gargoyle’s attention. The beast tilted its monstrous head toward him, razor-sharp teeth dripping red. Moonlight played across the massive beast’s malformed features. The predatory eyes, slitted and unforgiving, locked on Artan’s. His body tensed for the coming fight. Instead, the gargoyle reared back from the dead man and shot up into the surrounding trees, vanishing from view. Despite Artan’s heightened gargoyle senses, his eyes couldn’t detect the winged monster among the shadowy foliage. Why had the winged beast backed off?  
    Artan ran toward the dead man. It was impossible to determine who he’d been in life under all the gore. For a brief moment, Artan was thrown back in time. He remembered looking down at similarly brutalized victims, too many to count, all the casualties of his brother’s black magic-fueled folly.  
    He was pulled from his grim musings by another familiar sound, one out of place in this mechanized modern world: the clop-clop of a horse’s hooves. A whinny followed, and Artan whirled, his gaze landing on a horse-mounted police officer. The cop’s face dissolved into horror when he spotted the gutted corpse. With the dead man’s blood all over Artan’s leather jacket, he had to look like some blood-crazed maniac.
    “Freeze! Don’t move!” the officer shouted, raising his gun.
    Artan remained rooted in place, eyes locked on the cop while his other senses searched the night. He suspected the monster was still near. The creature was biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The horse seemed to sense the gargoyle’s presence too, its nervous whinnying building in volume as its flanks quivered in terrified anticipation. The officer tightened the reigns, struggling to control his mount.
    “I know how this looks, but I did not harm this man,” Artan said evenly, hoping the measured tone of his