Capture the Crown (Gargoyle Queen #1) -Jennifer Estep Page 0,150

the shattered windows and threw himself and me out through the jagged opening.

For a moment, we hung in the cold night air, strangely weightless. Then we started to fall, but Grimley pumped his wings over and over again, and we zoomed upward.

A startled squawk sounded behind us, and I glanced back over my shoulder. A couple of strixes were streaking through the air toward us, quickly gaining ground—

Lyra surged into view beside us. She let out a wild, fierce cry, and the other strixes peeled away, coasting back down toward the rookery.

Thank you. I sent the thought to her.

You’re welcome. Then she too peeled off, disappearing into the night.

I faced front again and tightened my grip on Grimley’s wings as the gargoyle soared over the palace walls, flying us away from Myrkvior.

Chapter Thirty

Grimley flew us out of Majesta, before his strength gave out late the next morning. I was exhausted too, but I used my magic to make sure the old, decrepit barn Grimley had landed next to was deserted before we slipped inside. We curled up in some moldy hay bales and slept for the rest of the day.

That evening, around sunset, we left the barn. A nearby farmhouse was also deserted, although the people who had lived there had left behind some clothes, along with some canned apples and a few other forgotten things in the pantry.

While Grimley went out hunting, I got enough water out of the well to clean myself up and changed into a gray tunic, along with matching leggings. I also stuffed my feet into a pair of old black boots, even though they were half a size too small and pinched my toes. When Grimley returned, I gobbled down some canned apples and a hunk of dried-out cheddar cheese while he tore into the rabbits he’d caught.

After dinner, I mounted Grimley again and opened the silver compact Leonidas had given me. I still had it, along with my gargoyle pendant, my dagger, and the two tearstone arrows. I used the compact’s compass to figure out which direction to go, then Grimley took off and flew the rest of the night, avoiding the strixes in the area.

We landed again the next morning, this time taking refuge in a small, damp cave and once again scrounging for food. As soon as Grimley had rested enough, we took off again, trying to put as much distance between us and the Mortans as possible.

But it wasn’t working.

I didn’t have to use the compact’s Cardea mirror to know that Milo and Wexel were chasing us. I could feel the Mortans behind us, slowly but surely closing the gap. But I was exhausted, and Grimley even more so, and together, we did the best we could.

Every once in a while, a faint, familiar flicker would float through my mind, as soft as a feather tickling my skin. Leonidas was with the other Mortans, although I had no idea if he was helping or hindering Milo and Wexel in their relentless quest to hunt me down. Probably both, knowing him.

The next day, Grimley and I finally made it to the Andvarian-Mortan border. I wanted to weep when the Spire Mountains came into view, even though we were still several miles away from Blauberg. The air grew steadily colder the higher we climbed up the mountains, and I shivered, since only thin layers of grubby rags covered my body. Milo was right. If my people could see me now, they wouldn’t call me Glitzma anymore, but that didn’t matter.

All that did was making it home.

We followed the sun up into the air, but my worry grew, despite the bright rays shining down on us. That creeping presence was growing stronger behind us. The Mortans were closing fast. Grimley must have sensed them too, because he pumped his wings harder.

We had just reached the top of Blauberg Mountain when the strixes screamed behind us.

I glanced back over my shoulder. Several strixes were streaking through the sky in an arrow-shaped formation. Milo was leading the charge, the tip of the arrow, with Wexel to his right, and more guards flying along behind them. Three strixes lagged behind the main pack, although I couldn’t make out who was riding them.

“The Mortans are right behind us!” I yelled.

“Hold on!” Grimley yelled back.

The gargoyle shot up over the top of the mountain, then tucked his wings into his sides, streaking down the rocky slope as fast as he dared. Behind us, a wild cry went up.