PROLOGUE The gargoyles were the first creatures to leave the Netherwhere. They hadn''t planned it, and they didn''t do it to impress the rest of the things that lived between worlds. They were simply curious. There was a door. On the other side of it was sky. The air tasted lighter, and the light was gentle. In the Netherwhere, the sky was indigo with streaks of green and purple. Sometimes, there were thick pinks.
The new sky was brighter. One of the eldest gargoyles, a giant-eared wonder called Rupert, stood at the door to the new world and watched as hundreds of his kind took flight. He waited, trying to decide if he wanted to go through the door. The thought of flying without so much effort was tempting. In the new world''s lighter air, even the weightiest among them soared like the faeries could. And as if summoned by the mere thought, one of the faeries darted at Rupert. The faeries'' vicious teeth couldn''t pierce stone, but that never stopped them from trying. The tiny clack of faery teeth was almost their version of a greeting by now.
Rupert shook the beast off as its little teeth scraped his shoulder. "Stop that." "All of you?" The faery nodded toward the door. "All go?" Rupert looked back at the forest. The tree boughs were nearly empty. Maybe they had already left, or maybe they were coming back now. Or later. Time was different to gargoyles.
It was forward and backward at once. "For now," Rupert said. The faery''s wings made a whirring sound, beating faster than anything should rightly move, but that was faeries: always too fast, always too excited; really, they were too much of everything . "We will go, too!" the faery said. Rupert nodded slowly. He might have said more, but by the time he''d lifted his eyes, the tiny pest was gone. It flew away in a blur of glittering wings and buzzing sounds. As he watched it go, Rupert understood why some creatures lied.
He wished he could lie to the faeries to prevent them from going through the door, but gargoyles didn''t lie. Rupert shook his feathered head and flew into the soft blue sky on the other side of the door. As he gazed down at the ground, he saw strange featherless creatures that looked a lot like the faeries but lacked wings. They swarmed all over fields and towns, clustered on boats and atop carriages, and darted in and out of buildings. Other beings from the Netherwhere were also spilling into this new world. The opening of the gate was hard to resist. There were new lands, new adventures, and when you lived such a long life, the new was tempting. Rupert watched it all--kelpies running toward waterways, wee dragonets seeking warm hearths, and faeries hurtling toward forests.
The two-legged creatures who were here first stared at the new arrivals, too, sometimes in awe, sometimes in shock. Rupert would find a purpose here. A reason. A mission. The tall spires and jagged arches of some of the most splendid buildings here didn''t draw his attention. He continued on, feeling the hum of magic, the drawing of wards, the prickle of ley lines. The lines in the new world--great underearth streaks of energy to use for magic--were tucked under the soil. These ley lines were how the gargoyles saw future things and now things.
They were particularly strong here, and Rupert''s mind felt muddled. He flew toward one of the plainest buildings he''d seen in this world, knowing that the plainest exterior was often a disguise for the most interesting discoveries. He would make a nest here, a place to return and watch this new world. Rupert settled down on the ledge, and those gargoyles that followed his leadership came in for a landing all around him. He stretched his wings wide and stared back at the beings on the ground, who were craning their necks to see him. They opened their mouths, but nothing they said aloud made sense. Many of their thoughts were noise, but Rupert pulled a taffy-like piece of energy from the ley line and began to learn their language. "What are you?" he asked.
The creatures swarmed at first. Then one of them met his gaze and said, "I am Tik, a human, a boy . A student here at the school." The human boy creature was a spindly thing. A long twist of hair was bound at the back of his head, reminding Rupert of a kelpie''s tail. His skin was dark, like the gargoyles'', as well. Tik held a metal stick that was as pointed as Rupert''s own beak, but long and thin. Rupert stared at it curiously.
"It''s a sword. I''m training to serve the Glass Queen." "Why?" Then Tik laughed. It was a happy noise, especially for a creature determined to serve a queen. "You''re a strange . What are you?" "Gargoyle. From the Netherwhere." "Nightshade! Sweeney! Come here.
" Tik waved to a few other small humans. When they reached him, he said, "The astronomers were right. The World Door opened." "Not the World Door. Just a door between your world and the Netherwhere," Rupert corrected, peering at the other humans. Nightshade was a keen one, and he had the smell of the Netherwhere already on him. Sweeney had a strange, rounder shape; he seemed soft where Nightshade and Tik were narrow. "Did everything come through?" Nightshade asked with more than a touch of fear in his voice.
Rupert eyed him with more interest. "The faeries did. Kelpies ." Nightshade''s eyes widened, but he said nothing. "Kelpies?" Sweeney asked. "Water horses," Nightshade whispered. Rupert explained: "Four-legged beasts that breathe water and land air. Hide the color of blue milk.
Carnivorous, messy things. They will be a problem for your kind. Our sort is not meat, but you are . all meat and bone." "Yes. The queen will need to know," Tik said. "I''ll tell the headmaster and request a meeting with Her Majesty to share what you learn." "If he will let us meet her," Sweeney muttered.
Rupert looked at the boys. He was not sure what a headmaster was, or who served whom here. What he did know was that the door opening would lead to changes--and these young creatures might be in peril. Gargoyles were not left this defenseless when they were young. Sweeney walked away to join a female human who was swinging her pointy sword-thing at a group of boys. The girl was dark-eyed and dark-haired. Her arms had thin white lines where skin had bled and healed again. And she was as tall and strong as the boys, who were all trying to take her weapon.
Rupert stretched his clawed feet out, scratching the ledge in the process, and watched the girl laugh as she unarmed each boy. "Tell me of this queen," the gargoyle said. Young Tik was eager to do so; his lips curved in a curious expression that Rupert understood meant happiness, because of the words that followed. "She''s only a few years older than us, but already she''s a queen. She''s going to create a new empire, rule the world, and if we''re good enough, we can serve her." Tik shoved his shoulders back. "She''s called Evangeline . like an avenging angel.
" "Angel?" "You know. Winged creatures from another world." Rupert paused. "A gargoyle. Your queen is a gargoyle?" Tik laughed again. "No. She''s a human like me, but wiser and kinder and better in all ways. She looks after us and will protect our borders.
She is our guardian." Tik sounded like he believed his own words, but Nightshade''s expression said that he wasn''t so sure he agreed with Tik. These humans would all need watching over, and the gargoyles were the right ones to do it. Rupert could already see enough of the future to know that their queen was not to be trusted. Looking after others wasn''t just about borders, but about adding good to the world--any world. Yes, it felt right to be here. It had been too long since he''d had a proper mission. Watching over these featherless creatures so he could help when this queen of theirs became trouble was a worthy reason to stay.
Part I TWENTY YEARS LATER . CHAPTER 1 Vicky Hit me!" her mum said. Kathleen Wardrop sounded frustrated, which was unusual when they had weapons in hand, but Vicky''s sister Lizzie was being contrary. They were all in the training room--in what was intended to be the house''s ballroom, but really balls weren''t quite the things for the Wardrop family. Instead, twelve-year-old Vicky; her older sister, Lizzie; and baby sister, Alice, went there every day to train with their mother, Kathleen Wardrop. Sometimes Lizzie begged off and spent a few hours playing with Alice so Vicky could do ward training. Today, though, was swords. Lizzie was required to do some sword practice at least two times a week, no matter how much she fussed.
"I did hit you," Lizzie said, voice slightly muffled by the fencing mask she wore. It made her sound older, stranger. "I touched the tip of my sword to your arm." Their mother, who did not wear a mask when she trained, repeated a frequent objection: "That is not a hit . If they come for you--" "But--" "You need to protect yourself and your sisters," their mum said. "If you were an actual enemy--" "Trust no one, Lizzie. No one but your sisters." Their mother sounded grave.
"Remember, anyone can betray you." "Not you," Lizzie pointed out. She stood, almost as tall as their mother, with her shoulders back. "You would die for us. Poppa, too." "We would." Their mother hugged Lizzie. "But when anyone stands before you with a drawn weapon, you do not tap them.
You fight." "Yes, Mother," Lizzie said. She always agreed, but for.