Some two minutes later, I was reduced once again to a staring and gaping thing while being flown through the palace in the arms of the gargoyle king.
Having been surrounded by gargoyles in the courtyard, I hadn't had time to take a proper look at the building from the outside. My eyes had registered a blue-pink cloud in the shape of a mid-sized castle, and that had been about it.
Now, with Xaniban taking me to this so-called war room, I had the chance to see the palace from the inside. I was even told the function of each room we were flying through.
The pride in Xaniban's voice was easy to detect. This was his home, and what a home it was!
I had expected everything inside the palace to be made of clouds shaped like furniture, but everything looked quite solid. If I hadn't seen this building from the outside, I would never have guessed I currently found myself inside a cloud.
The interior looked the way you would expect a castle from 18th century Europe to look like inside. It wasn't as over-the-top as Rococo was: there were no massive crystal chandeliers, ceiling art, baby Cupid statues in the corners, and golden cutlery on display. Still, the interior was by no means plain. The furniture was made of solid dark-red wood with intricate carvings, wall-size paintings and tapestries hung everywhere I looked, lush blue carpets covered the floors.
I noticed that everything was adapted to accommodate the physical specifics of gargoyles. From the chairs being bigger through the ceilings being higher to the rooms having two wide-framed doors: one on top of the other. More than one gargoyle, dressed in a white loincloth and carrying a food tray, flew through those upper doors while we were using the normal ones.
The paintings and tapestries I caught a glimpse of were also relevant to the residents of this place. Depicted were gargoyles in flight hunting deer, gargoyles engaged in a sky battle, gargoyles having a feast. Even a gargoyle posing with a bunch of scantily clad human women.
In short, I was in the post-Renaissance period, gargoyle style.
Some six or seven rooms later – this palace was way bigger than it looked from the outside - we reached our destination.
It looked quite cozier that what one would expect from a place called 'the war room'. Yeah, the wall-sized paintings covering all but one wall depicted battle scenes. But other than that, nothing screamed, 'Let's plan a battle'. The large rectangular table had wine glasses and candles on it. The individual blue tablecloths matched the color of the cushions on the chairs of dark-red wood. Oh, and the ceiling looked like a cloud the color of cotton candy.
I was a very curious person, and not only when science and animals were concerned. Coming into contact with a culture that probably a handful of humans knew existed, left me itching to touch and explore everything in this palace.
However, the moment my eyes took in the food on the table, hunger overrode all other needs.
I more or less run to the table for a closer look, unable to believe my eyes. "You've got real meat!... Holy crap, strawberries!!... Oh my God, is that a cake?!"
Before I could get my hands on anything, a tail curled around my midsection and stopped me in my tracks. Then I was pulled back against Xaniban's chest.
I wanted to scream bloody murder. Here I was, a breath away from food that was but a mirage these days. And I might as well be miles away from it.
Xaniban's lips brushed the tip of my ear. "Not yet," he whispered, as if there was someone in the room that might overhear him. "My warriors start the dinner then you and me."
"But they'll never know a single strawberry is missing,'' I pleaded, my eyes on the juicy mid-size fruit.
The strawberry looked so normal, wherever the gargoyles had gotten it from. But even if it were half-rotten, I would still eat it, the rotten part included. Months of canned food would do that to you.
"I will know," he underscored, his warm breath against my skin sending pleasant shivers down my spine. "You will show restraint, little human. I can, so can you."
The last words were followed by a nip at my earlobe that made me gasp in surprise.
The smile on his face when he walked past me, his tail slipping away, convinced me that the restraint he spoke of was not just food-related.
He pulled the chair at the head of the table – the biggest one in the room – to sit. "Do not be so sad, little human. Dinner will not be long now."
He must have seen the tears welling in my eyes, misinterpreting them.
Yeah, being denied this feast for the time being sucked. But that wasn't why I got teary-eyed all of a sudden.
The mention of his warriors eating before him had finally reminded me about my own people. During the madness of the last hour, I had not only forgotten about my community but also missed the moment when the bag of meds had slipped out of my belt. It must have fallen during the flight up here.
So, my little community was stuck in a bunker waiting for a delivery that would never come. They were eating what little remained of our canned reserves.
While I was stuck thinking about strawberries and earlobe-nipping. And waiting for permission to start stuffing myself like a panda with bamboo.
"My warriors are about to land any second," Xaniban went on, bringing my attention back to him. He patted his muscular thigh. "Come, rest."
Was he for real? Did he seriously expect me to sit on his lap?
Before I could tell Xaniban I'd be treated like a lap girl when pigs flew, feet appeared through the ceiling above me. I dashed to his side before the gargoyles coming down could land on me.
Clearly, the ceiling didn't simply look like a cloud: it was one. And a non-solid one at that, unlike the floor and walls around us.
"Sit, my brethren!" Xaniban told the newly arrived gargoyles, each of whom had landed next to a chair and was currently kneeling. "I should be bowing to your courage and skill in battle, not the other way around."
I took in the newcomers. All were dressed in brown loincloths and looked similarly built, except for one who was almost twice as big and wide as the rest.
The moment the soldiers got up and sat on their respective chairs, five sets of curiosity-filled eyes turned to me.
Being so focused on observing these creatures' behavior, I never saw the strong arm reaching for me. By the time I did, it was already around my waist and bringing me down on its owner's lap. And by the time I gave out a tiny yelp, Xaniban had me firmly in place with an inescapable hold around my midsection.
My only consolation was that being the king's lap accessory at the moment meant being in the war room with his soldiers. Instead of in his bedroom – and don't even get me started on his harem.
Besides, my 'seat' also provided me with direct access to the food on the table, so... Let pigs fly.
"This is Sue," Xaniban said as soon as he had me on his lap. Finally, I had a name. "She's here not to disrespect you but to offer her own report on the events of the day."
"Sue was on today's battlefield," a soldier spoke.
I recognized the gargoyle I had encountered on the stairwell by his distinctively short dark hair. Everyone else was digging the long hair style.
Xaniban nodded. "Yes, Fingor. And not just that: Sue fought our enemy and saved my life."
Surprised looks met mine, followed by nods at me - a form of acknowledgement, I suppose.
I admit I found that as pleasing as how the overconfident Xaniban basically announced he had needed saving and had been rescued by a woman. And he sounded proud and full of respect for me while making the announcement. As though to him I wasn't just a 'female from the ground' meant for his 'bedchamber'.
Had I been wrong to conclude gargoylish society was sexist?
I was about to become even more pleased with the latest developments in the war room. Because as soon as my presence there was explained and fully accepted, the soldiers started eating.
I turned towards Xaniban, whose face was quite close to mine, and gave him a questioning look.
"Help yourself to whichever you desire, little human."
Had he known I desired everything on the table, he probably wouldn't have said that.
His hold around my waist loosened to allow me to fill my glass plate with food.
I was so engrossed in the explosion of tastes in my mouth after each bite that I didn't realize I was making happy little noises while I ate.
I also didn't realize for a while that everyone was looking at me with smiles on their faces. Some more fangy than others due to tooth size differences.
"Sorry," I mumbled through a mouthful. No shame at my bad table manners could make me stop putting big pieces of food in my mouth. "I haven't eaten today, apart from several rusks in the morning. And this food here is gooood."
Xaniban laughed. "I am glad to hear it. Because we do not have dried bread here: we do not let anyone starve like that." He patted my abdomen with his big clawed hand. "I will keep you well fed, little human."
His words made me realize he hadn't had anything for dinner yet, while his soldiers were almost done with the food on their plates.
"Why haven't you eaten anything?"
He flashed me one of his lopsided smiles. "Watching you eat is fulfilling enough."
I swallowed my bite with some difficulty. Here I was, gulping down food like a walrus, and Xaniban found that pleasing to the eye?
"Don't be ridiculous. Eat." I redirected the piece of cake I was holding in my hand from my mouth to his.
He caught my hand mid-way. Just when I thought his intention was to stop me, he guided my hand slowly to his lips and took a bite. His eyes remained locked on mine the whole time.
"Um..." was all I managed to say in reaction.
Served me right, for once again giving him wrong signals. All I'd wanted was to hand him the piece, the same way I'd have done when faced with a stubborn child refusing to eat. I had acted on instinct rather than purpose.
Not according to Xaniban. His words after the cake piece had disappeared in his mouth said as much.
"My little human is both territorial and overprotective of me, brethren! Have I not been blessed by the Gods today, twice even?"
Approving rumbles followed.
I sighed and tucked my hand to my chest while he was distracted with his little speech. I wouldn't be surprised if he attempted to lick the crumbs of cake off my fingers.
I fought the instinct to do that myself, as much as a part of me protested at the waste of food that brushing the crumbs off was. I had given enough signals to mislead Xaniban I was interested in him as it was.
I mean, I was interested in him. My body didn't care he wasn't human: it wanted to snuggle in his lap and never leave; it wanted more of his scorching kisses. My inquisitive mind was intrigued by him and wanted to know everything about him. The fact I found his manhandling tendencies infuriating didn't change the fact that those same tendencies kind of... turned me on.
But he didn't need to know all that. Not if I wanted to return home right after this meeting.
My ill-thought-out attempt to feed the king led to something positive. He ate several pieces of rabbit meat while I was munching on the last remaining piece of cake.
I had snatched it in a hurry before anyone else could try to take it. Which no one had done and, judging by some tiny smiles my way, they had done so on purpose.
Sometimes being the only woman in a room full of macho men had its perks.
Not being frowned upon for eating with my hands was also nice - not that any cutlery had been provided.
When my stomach couldn't take any more food, I used the opportunity to take a better look around.
My eyes turned to look at the painting to my and Xaniban's left first. It depicted sword-wielding gargoyles descending from the darkening sky. Underneath was a small army of cloaked figures marching along a grassy plain. The hoods of everyone were pulled over their faces with a single exception: the mounted leader of the army. His hood was pulled down to reveal reddish eyes and two sets of pointed teeth.
"Is that Dracula?" I blurted out.
The vividly painted face of the horseman bore an uncanny resemblance to the portrait of Vlad Tepes I had on a fridge magnet. I had purchased it as a souvenir from Romania years ago. I had looked at that portrait enough times when opening and closing my fridge to be able to recognize the face of the Impaler anywhere.
"He is no longer among the living, do not worry, little human." Xaniban patted my thigh reassuringly with his free hand. The other was still on my abdomen, adding to the warmth in my quite a full belly. "My grandfather saw to that years ago."
"So vamps existed as far back as the 15th century? I knew it!... You gargoyles existed at the time, too, didn't you?" Then the meaning of his last words sunk in. "Wait, did you just say Dracula was alive until years ago?"
Since I got no reply, I returned my attention to the painting. The gargoyles were coming down from the sky, with their big wings appearing almost white under the last rays of the setting sun.
I wouldn't be surprised to discover that the angels described in ancient religious texts had been inspired by gargoyle sightings. This only added evidence in favor of my hypothesis that the mythical and fantasy creatures behind the second apocalypse had been here for some time. They just knew how to hide from humans very well.
When my gaze switched to the painting to my right, I realized the same applied to the creatures that had caused the first apocalypse.
Because what the gargoyles were battling with in this work of art was a group of Black Plague victims. They were rising from a pile of corpses against the backdrop of a brand-new-looking Notre-Dame de Paris. And leading this small army of the living dead was a rider whose plague doctor's mask was lifted to reveal a familiar face.
The face of the last actor to have played Agent 007.