Disclaimer: Disney, Buena Vista Television Inc, owns the Characters of Gargoyles. References to Time Lords and Dr. Who are property of BBC. The character of Rayna Vitreum is my own creation, as those of are Keith Polaski, Sharon Lewis, Lucia Dominguez, and Carlos Garcia. Joshua Blade and Eric Spellburg belong to Jade JJ. This story does not mean any harm to any show. Note that this story takes place before Jade's story, Shadows of Claws. I would like to thank Jade and Denis Deplaen for help proofreading this story and for their input. I also extend special thanks to Javagoddess, Beth Strong whose inspiration got me to write these Gargoyles stories in the first place, and for the idea of what happens to Macbeth at the end of this story! This story is rated PG-13 for strong language and violence.

Past Returns, Present Imperfections, Future Tense

Part 3: Decision

By Trynia Merin [email protected]

It had been nearly a week since the rally, and Macbeth was more then worried now. For the past few nights he'd cruised the city in search of a friend, a cup of hot espresso at his elbow while his hand guided the ultramodern Hovercraft along the night lit streets. Few people worried about the Hovercraft, they were more concerned with the threat of Quarrymen attacks and riots. Even though they had lain low after their most recent escapade, their silent terrors were still evident. Several bookstores had been broken into, their papers bearing works of the PIT crew sabotaged and burned.

Macbeth slipped his leather-gloved hand around the Eco-Mug, sipping a large drought of steaming mocha. One third cream, two parts sugar slid down his throat. He glanced down at the monitor, unable to see anything more unusual then the hurry of people down Time Square. Not even a sign of a black van with a silver hammer on it. Strange, they usually did their nightly escapades here.

One week gone by, and no sign of Rayna Vitreum. No answers to the phone, and no word from Xanatos.

"How long are we gonna just cruise around?" asked a voice to one side. "I'm going nuts here!"

"Keep yer shirt on Lad," Macbeth muttered, and set the controls on autopilot.

"Well are we going to find her or not?" Keith asked, as he plopped into the Hovercraft seat near Macbeth.

"I thought you said you had the latest in weapons tech..."

"This is not Batman, lad," Macbeth chided. "Nice little plot resolutions do not constitute real life."

"Well if Demona..."

"That's precisely the problem. Demona is a devious gargoyle indeed..."

"She seemed a little weird," Keith reflected. "And Rayna seemed to know her... as if they were old friends... or deadly enemies... which I can't get why Rayna went off with her..."

He could recall the panicked looks on Carlos and Lucia's faces when they heard the newsflashes. A sick feeling had erupted in the pit of his stomach when he held Lucia's hand close by Carlos' bed, and heard the camera crews on the eleven o'clock news.

That's when reality itself seemed to turn inside out. One moment Macbeth could swear he heard news about dead bodies being found, the next, everything flashed bright before his eyes. The next moment he could hear Lucia's cry of relief.

"Sharon!" she shrieked, as the blonde girl had rushed in, a bit battered, bruised, but basically very much alive. Macbeth had rushed out after Lucia, his face a mask of astonishment.

"Lass! How did you... what did you?"

"Where's Keith?" Lucia gasped.

"He... he's being questioned by the police... and he's coming here soon. But Dr. Vitreum..."

"Dr. Vitreum?" Macbeth asked. "Where is she?"

"It was the most awesome thing... she saved us! Came out of nowhere..."

"I think you'd better start at the beginning, Lass," Macbeth urged.

"Excuse me, but Mr. Garcia needs his rest," the ER doctor put his head into the small unit. "Why don't you get something to eat?"

"Thank ye, Doctor. Come lasses, we have much t' catch up on..."

"But Keith..." Sharon said.

"The doctor's looking at him now. We'll send someone for you when he's all right..."

"Their parents?" Macbeth asked.

"Are on their way. I'm sure they appreciate you staying with their children, Professor MacDuff..."

"As a professor, I am responsible for my students," he said, with a nod as he rested a hand on each girl's shoulder. He took both girls by the hand and led them to the waiting room. By then, Carlos was well on his way to slumber land.

They met in the hospital cafeteria, Sharon getting a table while Macbeth and Lucia selected the food. Lucia grabbed the tray of steaming hot chocolate, as Macbeth paid the bill. The next few minutes they all compared notes, compiling a tapestry of the past forty-eight hours. Jangling inconsistencies came to light that shivered the back of Macbeth's neck.

"And they shoved us into this van that looked like something out of the X files, and next thing we were being shoved out onto the street," Sharon shivered. Lucia gripped her friend's pale hand. Still her shoulders trembled. Macbeth leaned back in his chair, propping his bearded chin on one hand as he regarded her.

"Then when did ye see Dr. Vitreum?"

"It was so weird. I could swear I heard her, then saw her up where I saw nothing before. Next minute she was slamming into the nearest Quarryman. Out of the blue she showed up."

"Hmm," Macbeth muttered. "Go on..."

"Then she told Keith and me to split. And Keith turned around to help her. I ran to find a phone, and found a payphone that actually worked, in a nearby grocery store. When I called 911, I kept the line open, but then I saw the Quarryman helicopters... Once I completed my call, I sneaked back to see if Keith and Dr. Vitreum were okay, cause I heard shouts. Then I ducked into a nearby grocery store and waited and then the strangest thing happened. I could swear I saw a gargoyle..."

"A gargoyle?" Macbeth asked.

"Yeah. Purple underwings, dark blue skin. I caught a glimpse... and it was circling overhead, lower and lower after the sun set. I stayed on the line around that time... and I could swear that gargoyle had a rifle in her hands."

"Her... hands?"

"Why didn't you get out of there or wait for the police?" Lucia asked.

"What? Where could I go with those Quarrymen running around? Excuse me, but I was scared shitless! I was so glad those people in the grocery store let me in. And then I rushed out when I heard the helicopters... and that's when I saw the gargoyle! I just had to see for myself. But then the grocery storeowners told me to stay inside because it wasn't safe. And one of them called an ambulance to take me to the hospital, and here I am!"

Next thing she found herself coming to the consciousness, running fast and furious. Walls rose up all around her. On all fours she scampered, wondering how in Matrix she had come to be running on automatic pilot. There was no sign of the mansion, or Demona. Just these endless mazes of alleys and streets.

"After her!" shouted a familiar voice she'd come to hate. Desperately Rayna looked left, then right. Ahead was a clearing of intersecting streets. She limped over into the light, towards what appeared to be a busy park.

Shouts and cries echoed around her. All she could do was run blindly from the honking horns and screaming gasps of bystanders. The cold pavement stretched for miles under her claws, but Rayna kept on scampering.

"Penetrare... Titania..." Eric Spellburg grunted, his brow wrinkled in concentration. This seemed like the millionth time that he had tried to reconstruct the spell Dominique Destine had used to bring him here.

Before him the ordinary mirror fizzled, blue sparks showering the boy as he jumped back. A thick smoke filled the room, and Eric Spellburg coughed heavily.

"What the heck are you doing?" asked a voice indignantly through the haze. Out of the blackness, a dark shape moved, its eyes fixing onto Eric's. Hands batted away the smoke, and Eric stared sheepishly up at the black-clad figure.

"Sorry Josh, just practicing my magic..."

"Can't you do it without the smoke and mirrors?" Josh asked. "I mean you're lucky the smoke detector didn't go off!"

"Sorry, but this is important! I just have to redo this spell!"

"Why?" Josh folded arms across his chest.

"Because I think I made a horrible mistake, and I plan to make up for it... so could I have some quiet so I can concentrate?"

"Wait, what horrible mistake? Does this have something to do with when you vanished into thin air in the middle of our last battle with Scarab?"

"Yes it does..." Eric admitted, hanging his head. "Now quiet a minute I think I have the right spell..."

Again the youth's eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to small dots in the iris of his bright eyes. Hair crackled with energy. Softly whispering words grew it pitch and volume with the strains of Latin words rolling off his tongue. Josh watched as his friend's eyes blazed beryl, then hot white. Ever so slightly the mirror began to ripple.

Ripples spread across the mirror's surface, shaking like a sheet of plastic wrap in a high wind. Eric's fingers moved in stirring circles. Ripples merged and crashed into a blur of fast images.

"I gotta remember this one when the next Raider's game is blacked out," said Josh. Opening his mouth, Eric spat a fiery sphere into the midst of the ripples. The glow spread out to encompass the entire mirror surface. For a second Josh saw a man in glistening black armor and a long black trenchcoat picking throughout the ruins of a mansion. A gangly blonde youth sauntered behind him.

"Wait, you can't go alone!" Josh snapped when he saw Eric about to step through. He grabbed Eric's shoulder at the last moment, but the pull was far too great to resist. Both boys slipped into shimmering radiance.

Macbeth could not believe the sight they had stumbled upon. Demona's mansion was a smoking ruin of its former grim glory. The entire top floor had been leveled, and on each floor there was not one window that wasn't shattered.

"Whoa, what the hell happened here?" asked Keith. Carefully Macbeth poked around the broken glass with the toe of one black boot. So far the bones of Demona's rafters stretched overhead, ruined walls rife with gaping holes in the night. They had picked their way up the rickety stairs in the hollow shell, amazed to find any of the floors still intact. Demona's house was a merging of Goth and neo-classical. Priceless art trappings were buried in the rubble along with ultramodern technological guts. What a waste.

"That's precisely what I'm trying to determine, young man," Macbeth muttered. He slunk to his haunches, carefully holding a piece of wood under an electronic scanner. "And this is *not* a tricorder!"

"Hey, I may be a Trekker, but I do have a life," Keith snapped back.

"A good series, but there are those who take it too seriously..."

"That's the diff between a Trekker and a Trekkie..."

"I wouldna tell them that," Macbeth grinned. Then his steely eyes gazed past Keith's shoulder. He straightened up, and moved past the teen.

"Wait... what did I say?"

"Shh..." Macbeth held up a gloved hand. "Magic... very close. I can sense it..."

"Whoa, hold on, are you serious?"

"If ye want t' find Rayna, I am," Macbeth responded, still peering around the ruined upper story. His flashlight beamed all over the far wall. Suddenly a bright flare blinded them both in return. It took a minute for the odd shaped square to fade from Keith's eyes. When he wandered over to where Macbeth stood, he glimpsed the irregularly shaped mirror. Odd Celtic vinework graced its top, the odd squares along the top and the bottom bisecting the main oblong shape that stood on its end. Odd prickles tingled his skin the closer he approached. He was half-afraid it would turn into an upright black slab, with the dimensions of 1x2x3. Still his skin crawled as much as the first time he'd seen that flick, and he could swear he heard the eerie music that comprised its score. Oddly when he saw what must be Macbeth's image in it, he saw a 10th century king in crown and garb. Much like from that Renn-fair he'd visited in upstate New York with his fellow SCA buddies.

"Weird..."

Beside the Scottish king stood a gangly youth, in the odd garb of what looked like a Harry Potter look alike. Almost like that wizard character from a cartoon show he'd seen years ago. Inevitably he reached out one hand to touch the smooth surface.

"Be verra careful," Macbeth cautioned sharply, arresting the probing hand. "This is a magic item... and is not to be trifled with..."

"Holy shit," Keith muttered numbly. "Either I've landed in the Never-ending story... or 2001..."

Macbeth groaned, and reached for something under his coat. He pulled out a silver wand, which telescoped into what looked like a radio antennae. Very tentatively he brought it close to the mirror, tapping it. The surface swirled, from a flat sheet to a mad mess of ripples. Macbeth's image vanished, replaced with that of two boys. "Who the hell are they?" asked Keith.

"Get back ye idjet!" Macbeth pushed him aside. For the images seemed to be pounding from the other side of the mirror, desperately. Noses squashed against the glass, which seemed to have become a window into some other reality. There came a loud sucking sound, and a blast of wind. Two figures erupted from the mirror's flat surface, tumbling into the ruined space. Slowly they groaned, rolling over to peer into the astonished faces of Keith Polaski and Macbeth.

"Okay, we're here, so now what?" Josh asked.

"This isn't right..." Eric scratched his flame colored hair.

"Who the hell are you two?" asked Keith.

"I might ask the same question," Josh glared at Keith with narrowed eyes. Macbeth stepped before them, steely gaze falling on Eric.

"Young man, who are ye?"

"Why should he tell you?" asked Josh, leaping to his feet. Somehow he sensed a kindred spirit in the silver-haired man with the flowing beard. He was powerfully built, with the posture and bearing of royalty.

"Because, it might be a lot easier then to go on staring in mutual confusion," Macbeth folded his arms across his armored chest. "Are ye acquainted with Dominique Destine?"

"Yes!" Eric said. "What happened to her? And why are we here?"

"Her house was bombed," said Keith. "You don't know about it do you?"

"I'm looking for her! And Angel, a gargoyle," Eric blurted out. "Please mister, am I in New York city or not?"

"And what if ye were?" Macbeth looked at him.

Amber eyes regarded steely blue ones. "Please! I must find Ms. Destine! She did something awfully bad... or made me do something..."

"What?" asked Macbeth.

"Eric, shut up," Josh cautioned.

"I am going to ask you one question young man," Macbeth said clearly. "And I want ye to tell me the truth. Do ye ken a lass named Rayna Vitreum?"

"Yes! That's why I'm here."

"What's it to you?" Keith asked.

"I gotta find her. Something went wrong... and Dominique..."

"Dominique..." Macbeth's eyes narrowed. "Ye were somehow involved?"

"Yes! Please... mister..."

"MacDuff will do for now," Macbeth said. "Lennox MacDuff. I am an... associate of Rayna Vitreum. If she is in any way harmed..."

"That's the problem," Eric said. "I don't know... please if you're her friend, you got help me..."

"Why don't we start from the beginning," Macbeth suggested.

Rayna screamed a primal shout from her throat, pushing back against the hands that gripped. Her eyes flared crimson under the million hands that battered her.

"Leave me alone!" she roared.

There came a snarling, like a wildcat. Bright eyes glistened in the darkness, and people rushed away. The scuffling of shoes on asphalt faded into the sirens and sounds of the ghetto.

"You okay?" came a gruff voice. Slowly she lifted her talons from her eyes, glancing up. A dark shape stood, its wings high mounted on its shoulders. The ebony pelt glistened in the moonlight.

"Yes... I think so... who..."

"Name's Talon. By the looks of things, they didn't care much for you. You one of Goliath's clan he didn't tell me about?"

"You know Goliath?"

"Yeah. Friend of mine, and one of yours I hope..."

"I don't know. I'm... not supposed to be a gargoyle... there was an experiment..."

"Shh, don't be afraid. It's not safe out in the open. There's a safe place you can go to rest...."

"Thank you," Rayna said, as he offered his claw to help her up.

"By the way, what do they call you?"

"Rayna," she said. "So much has happened I..."

"Everyone has a story," Talon said mysteriously. "First thing you need is something to eat, and shelter. Then you can tell us if you want."

"What a mess," Detective Bluestone muttered, surveying the scene. In a matter of minutes the fire department had responded to the four-alarmer, finally subduing the blaze. But the sound of helicopters in the distance indicated a much more sinister scene. Police cars wailed everywhere, and somehow he sensed the night was only just beginning.

"Anything yet?" Captain Chavez asked, climbing out of her patrol car. Already the NYPD had cordoned off the area, yellow tape stretched across the remains of the walls.

"Q-men, definitely. Local witnesses saw them swarming the place... in fact it was a next door neighbor that called 911... but by the time our first units came on-line, they were blocked off by a traffic jam... a whole mess of black vans."

"I was the first on the scene after the fire trucks," Officer Morgan added. "By then the fun was over... we spotted the choppers go down, and the remaining vans just took off..."

"Great," Chavez held a hand to her head. "So they just got away?"

"All except for a half dozen kayos," Matt said. A few black figures writhed in cuffs, their mouths clamped shut. "And all they say is that they want to call their lawyers..."

"This is incredible," Chavez snorted. "A whole string of Quarrymen riots, the worst in a week, and this is all you guys have for me?"

"Sorry Chief, but it's all we're gonna get..." Matt sighed. Just then something caught the corner of his eye. The radio crackled into life in Matt's car, and he rushed to check it.

"What the hell?" Chavez muttered, and glanced at a shimmering shape above the house. She barked orders to her men, as she could swear she glimpsed a black shape, which suddenly whizzed off into thin air.

"Shit, cops!" Keith shouted to Macbeth as he saw the flashing lights.

"We had best continue this conversation elsewhere, I think," Macbeth nodded to Josh and Eric. Macbeth grabbed the mirror, throwing his coat over it.

"Anyplace in mind?"

"If ye'll come with me..."

"We can't get past those guys!" Keith snapped.

"Eric, a magical spell would be really good right now..."

"Okay... give me a minute..." Eric squeezed his eyes shut. Macbeth punched a control on his wrist, and a rope ladder dropped from his Hovercraft. Bustling Keith onto it, he gestured to Josh.

"Whoa, where did you get that toy?" Josh asked.

"Shut up and go!" Eric grunted, straining with his powers. That odd blue light flashed in his eyes, and Josh grabbed his friend about the waist. Hoisting him onto his shoulders, he began to scale the ladder. Macbeth was the last, leaping up to grab the ladder as he scrambled up behind the others. Keith already bustled inside, followed by Eric and Josh. Still the half elf strained to keep his illusion spell intact. Plunking the mirror down, Macbeth pushed past them.

"Hang on lads!" he called, the door snapping shut, as he leapt into the pilot's seat. Gently Josh lowered his friend into a passenger seat, strapping him in. He took the seat opposite, as Keith secured the mirror in a storage compartment.

"Cover that thing now!" Macbeth cautioned. "In case someone else wants t' come through... we dinna want uninvited guests..."

"What?"

"Just do it!" Josh told him.

"All right, all right," Keith grumbled, and wrapped a tarp around it. He almost lost his footing when the craft lurched forwards.

"Sheesh, what a bunch of..." he muttered before Macbeth shot him a sharp look. Keith latched the wrapped parcel down, stumbling into the front seat opposite Macbeth.

"So, care to tell me what the hell that was in the mirror?"

"What do ye mean, lad?"

"Don't patronize me! I saw you... in 10th century garb! What was that all about?"

"The mirror... reveals... true aspects..." Eric said, as he glared up at them.

"Wait... you need to concentrate..." Josh hissed to his friend.

"True aspects... MacDuff, what the f....?"

"Shh!" Macbeth snapped. "Jest a moment of quiet all of ye! I'll explain, but ye must be patient, Keith!"

Everyone shut up at the stern schoolmaster edge to his tenor voice. Eric closed his eyes, retreating to the place of magic within his mind.

"So... what's up with the mirror?"

"Titania's Mirror," Macbeth corrected him. "Like many objects of magic, has properties that are most unusual."

"No shit, Sherlock..."

"As I was about to say, young man," Macbeth snapped, annoyed at his interruption. "This mirror reveals true aspects, as one of its magical properties. It also can function as a gate between places and times, as we have seen from the appearance of these two gentlemen..."

"Weird. Like sliders..."

"Quite," Macbeth nodded. "Except it needs a worker of magic, such as a Child of Oberon, or a mage to operate it. I am guessing ye are a Child of Oberon, lad?"

"He's half," Josh corrected.

Her feet slammed into concrete pavement. Talon's hand steadied her. She stiffly caped her wings as he did, except his claw wings clutched his shoulders instead of fastening beneath his throat.

He hunched over, taking graceful strides. Rayna felt odd thoughts surging into her system. That musky scent wafting off his ebony body was rather pleasing. Her perceptions were slightly altered, due to gargoyle instincts cutting in. How much was instinct, and how much was learned, Rayna wondered. Talon lead her to a manhole, and lifted the lid with ease. Rayna followed as he let himself drop. She splayed her hands, trying to put her tail down as it caught up on the manhole's rim.

"Rassilon's rod," she cursed, and grabbed her own tail, poking it down with her legs. She let herself drop, clawed toes absorbing the impact of her landing.

"Okay?" Talon grinned. At her nod he took her hand, leading her into the dark. Yet it wasn't that dark. She could see with the odd miracle of rhodopsin crackling over her eyes. In shades of pale pastel gray the maze of tunnels appeared. They came upon a light, which washed out the delicate night vision.

"This is the Labyrinth. All are welcome here, as long as they carry no weapons and act civilized. You're welcome here, Rayna."

A winged shape strode up, out of the midst of several rag clad people huddling around a fire. "My love you've come back!" purred a higher pitched voice. From an inner room strode a golden furred feline, her cat eyes fixing into those of the tall panther. Her reddish bat wings hung about her shoulders, not like a gargoyles at all. "We have a new guest? At least show them in!"

Maggie took Rayna's claw, leading her into the space. An ordinary sofa and television were there, opposite a large wooden entertainment complex. It smacked of the cave dwellers of Tetrabyria, where the bat-like Tetraps who served the Rani resided underground.

"This is Maggie, my girlfriend..." he said. "Maggie, meet Rayna."

"My pleasure," Maggie said, extending a paw. She clasped Rayna's talon gently. Fur tickled her talon's undersurface. From the distance came a thin meow, almost like a low growl. Talon excused himself as Maggie perched on an ottoman, and Rayna tried to sit down on her bottom.

Unfortunately the tail got in the way, slapping Maggie in the calf as she finally perched on the chair cushion. Annoyed she grabbed her tail and wrapped it around her waist. Talon returned, bouncing a small cub in his paws. It was tawny, like a baby lion, its small wings fluttering. Maggie's coloring, with black wings. Talon poked a baby bottle into its sucking mouth and it settled naturally into the curve of his arm.

"Your offspring?" she asked.

"Yes," he chuckled. "This is Lionel. Our first... kid..."

"He... is very... pleasing," Rayna stammered. A pair of blue eyes glanced sidelong at hers, the little muzzle fixed to the bottle still. A low purring rumbled in its throat.

"Want to hold him?" Maggie asked.

"Oh... I couldn't," Rayna said. But Talon placed the cub in her arms, and she cradled it with her talons, taking the bottle from his father. The little one settled, its eyes glancing up at Rayna questioningly. But it stopped its fidgeting and contented itself with pulling onto her hair.

"Hello little one," she hummed, a low rumble in her own throat as it lay its head on her breast. Odd how gargoyle females had mammary glands.

Lionel crooned, purring in his own throat as he settled quite comfortably into her arms. Her astonished gaze met Maggie's approving nod. Slowly he finished the bottle, falling asleep.

"You said you were not supposed to be a gargoyle?" Talon asked. "Does this have anything to do with..."

"Sevarious did this to you didn't he?" Maggie snarled. Talon shot her a look, and she quieted as Lionel whimpered a bit.

"Yes," she lowered her eyes.

"Were you human once too?"

"For all intents and purposes, yes. I was a professor at NYU, in geology. One of my students went missing, and to save him I came to a location. It was just outside of Nightstone Industries. Then everything went black as someone hit me with a tranq. And the next thing I knew I was being held by odd restraints. But then Demona came in and ripped me out of them..."

"Demona?" asked Talon.

"She saved me. And the boy. From the Quarrymen," Rayna glanced up at them, tipping the last ounces of the bottled milk down Lionel's throat. "And then she said that they would hunt me mercilessly unless I hid. Why I took her up on it I didn't know. Then next thing I know... this happened..."

"Quarrymen," Talon gritted, his claws clenching and unclenching. "They probably were responsible. But how did Sevarious get his hands on you and why turn you into a gargoyle?"

"Does he need a reason?" Maggie asked, eyes flashing as a small crackle of electricity formed between her fingers. "Did he need a reason to do what he did to us?"

"What did he do to you?" Rayna asked.

"Turned us into what you see," Maggie said. "I was once human like you. Maggie Reed from Ohio. Down on my luck. But then they came at the homeless shelter and offered me money to try a new experimental treatment. I said yes, but then I found myself later as one of the experiments... Talon... and I and the others came later..."

"Are you human too?" Rayna looked up at Talon.

"Yeah. But that's another life," Talon looked back at her. Gently he took his sleeping son from her, and rocked him. "And I haven't looked back."

"I do not think there is any way this can be reversed," Maggie said softly. "I am sorry..."

Her furry paw rested on Rayna's hand, her sad eyes raised in sympathy. Rayna choked in her throat at the simple assumptions of these two. How trusting they were, opening their home to her. 

"I thank you for your kindness," Rayna whispered softly. "It means much. But I must leave this place..."

"You won't go to Demona, will you?"

"She is the only one that might lead me to where Sevarious is," said Rayna, lifting her head.

"No way!" shouted a voice. For standing in the doorway was a slender shape, hunched over. "You can't!"

"Brooklyn! When did you get here?" asked Talon, with surprise. Claw, a tiger mutate stood apologetically near him. Like Mute he did not say a word.

"I came to ask if you've seen a human... named Rayna... but this..."

"Brooklyn..." Rayna stumbled to her feet. Talon caught her as she tripped over her arched feet.

"Whoa!" Brooklyn gasped, taking in the view. His eyes bugged out as they traveled up and down Rayna's form. "Wow... what's a babe like you doing in a place like this?"

"She says she's Rayna... and what's this about a missing human?" Talon asked.

"I am Rayna," she looked hopefully at Brooklyn. How much of the conversation had he overheard.

"Holy shit, you're..." he stammered out as he moved over. His hand gripped hers, gently running over her claw. "Gorgeous..."

"I think we need a serious talk," Talon folded his arms. "Like an update..."

"I think so too," came Angela's voice. She felt very odd at seeing a new female there. Especially Brooklyn's reaction to her. Just who was she?

"Brooklyn I don't expect you to believe me..."

"I want to. Believe me..."

"Is it because you consider me an attractive female gargoyle?"

"Well.. Uh... yeah..."

"Typical."

"But no. If Demona's involved it's rotten! You don't know what she's capable of!"

"I... see you have had a hostile confrontation with her," she said.

"But what happened to you? If you are Rayna..." Angela asked.

"Sevarious... did this... Demona said that..." Rayna got out as a look of horror spread over Angela's face.

"That's what you get for dropping in on the middle of a conversation," Talon shook his ebony head. Sleek midnight fur shimmered in the underground lights.

"He's quite right, lad and lass," came another voice. A shiveringly delicious Scottish accent.

"Who the hell is he?" Talon asked.

"A friend," said Brooklyn. "Looks like we beat him here..."

Two other figures flanked Macbeth, a tall black haired fellow clad in black much as Macbeth was, and a slender red headed fellow with tapering ears. His eyes held the look of mischief. Both looking very oddly at the homeless people that huddled into the corners.

"She's here... I know it!" Eric Spellburg burst out as he rushed up to Rayna. "Is that you?"

"Someone tell me what the hell is going on here?" asked Talon.

"My apologies," Macbeth extended his hand. "I also have been looking for a friend..."

"He's cool," said Brooklyn, still ogling Rayna.

"I'm so sorry," Eric glanced at Rayna, a tear in his eyes. "I never meant this to happen..."

"What do you mean?" asked Brooklyn.

"It's my fault. Rayna I'm so sorry..."

"Wait... is that ye... lass?" Macbeth walked up to the female gargoyle. Silver eyes locked into her dark ones, searching. Without fear he leaned closer, his look intense and probing.

"Maelbeatha Dunkeld?" she asked, voice quavering. "You... came after me?"

Something caught in Macbeth's throat. Reaching forwards he griped her talons in leather gloved hands. Anguish spread over the regal face. "Always, my friend," he whispered softly. "It was Demona, wasn't it? What's she done t' ye?"

"It was my fault," Eric said, hanging his head.

"No, it was Dr. Sevarious," said Rayna hastily. "He did this…"

"Whoa, wait, you mean this is Rayna?" asked Brooklyn.

"Yes..." Rayna turned to him. Strengthened by Macbeth's belief, she felt as if she had an anchor to this reality again. Still he kept one of her talons closely clenched in a gloved hand.

"But how can you be sure?" asked Angela.

"Few call me by my real name," Macbeth said, gazing into Rayna's eyes as she glanced up at him. Even though the arched feet gave her extra height, he still was a few inches taller then she. Anger replaced anguish, and Rayna's eyes widened in fear.

"I swear whoever did this will pay," Macbeth promised, voice low and ominous. He squeezed her taloned hand to punctuate his sincerity.

"No, please don't," Rayna shook her head violently. "Not as you did before…."

"First the Quarrymen, and then this monster Sevarious…" Macbeth's other fist clenched at his side. "I will avenge this wrong done to you, Rayna…"

"I'm so sorry," Eric shook his head. Macbeth whirled on him, anger in his face.

"No," Rayna said, stepping in front of him. "He was innocent. Please…"

Macbeth's glare pierced into Eric's eyes. Fear and terror came there, and Josh was all set to rush to his friend's rescue when Macbeth looked away in sadness. "No, ye are innocent…" he sighed.

"This is too weird," Talon shook his head.

"More guests?" asked Maggie, standing in the door with Lionel in her arms. "And you are just letting them stand around in the Labyrinth without inviting them to dinner?

"Didn't you come from this city Joshua?" Eric asked.

The boy of shadows remained quiet for a time. "Ya I grew up in NY but I don't see how that could help.'

Eric asked, "'But don't you know any one that might help us to find that woman?"

Everyone had gathered back into the hovercraft, having eaten a little bit with the gargoyles. Yet now it was back to business, and none were too pleased at the task ahead.

"Are you seriously going to take on the Quarrymen all by yourself?" Keith asked Macbeth. He noted the somber look on his professor's face, and the equally miserable ones on those of the other two.

"Yes," Macbeth answered, settling behind the hovercraft controls.

"But was Rayna there?"

"Yes," Macbeth nodded. "But she was… badly harmed. She must stay there…"

"If she's hurt she needs to be in a hospital!" Keith snapped. "You can't just leave her there you…."

"Shut up!" Macbeth grabbed Keith's shirt front. "Listen to me, and listen well, lad. Ye may not like what I have to hear…"

"What…" Keith asked, backing away as Macbeth's eyes flared granite grey. "I demand to know what the hell's going on…"

"Rayna has changed," Macbeth said. "She has been changed into a Gargoyle… by sorcery…"

"My sorcery and Dr. Sevarious science," Eric clarified.

 "I don't believe it…" Keith stammered, disbelief in his face.

"Believe it," Macbeth said. "That is why she must stay. For right now she is a stone statue…"

"Why didn't you let me in?" Keith demanded.

"Because I didna think ye cuild handle the truth…"

"I'm not some stupid kid!" Keith snapped, pulling his shirt out of Macbeth's grasp. "I came this far, so I'll be damned if you leave me out!"

Macbeth released him, and gently set him down. Slowly he turned away, leaning on the panel of the hovercraft. His shoulders hunched over miserably while his eyes squeezed shut. Uncomfortable silence passed heavily among the four men who sought a reason for why.

"You… said your sorcery…" Keith turned on Eric. Disbelief melted as Keith slowly accepted the oddity of the situation. Finally he had a target. Angrily he stepped towards the half elf.

"You… son of a bitch…" Keith snarled, his hands upraised.

"I didn't want it to be like this!" Eric shouted back. Keith threw a punch at him, but Eric dodged nimbly out of the way.

 "Keep away from him," Josh said, voice tinged with icy calm. The slender fellow placed himself between Keith and his friend, his raven ponytail spilling over his breast. That look in Josh's eyes made Keith hesitate, and realize he was facing two people who were not to be messed with.

"What's it to you, Mr. Macho?" Keith gritted his teeth.

"Enough!" Macbeth barked. Everyone turned their head to face him as he glowered at all three. Josh and Eric backed off, Keith sulking as he retreated from the two strangers.

"Shame on us, fighting," Macbeth shook his head. "If we are to fight, we must spend our energies facing those that have done this… "

"But he said…"

"I don't believe you knew what you were doing," Macbeth said to Eric. "And you seem sincere in your desire to help Rayna, lad…"

"Can't your magic change her back?" Keith asked.

"I don't know…" Eric said. "I'd have to be at the place that she last used…"

"Well then, we face a task before us. To track down where Demona would have gone to next… but I am forgetting another promise…"

"Carlos and Sharon," Keith nodded. "We gotta get those Quarrymen to pay."

"Leave Demona to us," Josh said. "And you handle the Quarrymen…"

"Agreed," Macbeth said.

"But we can't just let him take them on alone," Eric said. "As long as Rayna stays at the labyrinth she's safe. And he might need us…"

"What can you two do?" asked Keith.

"More then you could imagine," Josh answered.

"I can't ask you to risk… but I would welcome your skills… lads…"

"I can find that man Castaway, for from what I saw on television, he's evil," Josh nodded.

"How? Are you gonna sniff him out?"

"Yes," Josh said to Keith, matter-of-fact.

Rayna felt the stone crumbling away. A loud cry shot forth as she clawed away the stone frantically in an effort to breath. "Screeowww!" was the closest sound that escaped this time. Beside her a shower of stone pelted her as Brooklyn came to life, eyes flaring white in the lamplight.

"Night?" she asked.

"Sleep well?" he asked, fluffing his white hair with one talon.

"I... suppose... I hibernated... I feel refreshed."

"Yeah, nothing like a nice stone nap to work the kinks out."

"Why did Goliath not come?" she asked.

"I dunno. But how about we look around?"

"I wish I could fly," Rayna sighed, taking his claw as he lead her into a small kitchen area. Maggie was nowhere to be seen, nor was Talon. Rayna slowly ate some soup, lapping up with a tongue that seemed oddly shaped. Something seemed to puncture her tongue, and rapidly she held her mouth.

"Ouch!"

"You okay?" he asked, as she coughed out a mouthful of soup.

"I bith mythelf!" she moaned, feeling the throbbing tongue. Opening her mouth she ran her fingers along sharp canine fangs. Much like Hudson's that night when she had shared the odd custom of lip massage with him.

Brooklyn was trying hard not to laugh, as he stroked her back lightly. He avoided that place between her wings, instead brushing his knuckles over her brow. It felt rather nice and tingly where he touched her. She did the same, sweeping the back of her taloned hand across the horns curving over his white hair.

"May I see a mirror?" she asked. "All this time I didn't get a good look..."

"Sure..." Brooklyn led her into the living area. She gasped as she saw Brooklyn's twin advancing, a blue opalescent figure walking beside him. As she reached out to touch its claw she felt smooth flat glass.

"That's me," she said, and took a deep breath. Large dark eyes peered from beneath a brow ridge, which rose into a five pointed crest. It resembled a diadem in blue bone, the tip in the middle largest, with the others tapering off, curving out in the direction of the crown of her head. Lower down on her ridge were raised lumps of bone under the flesh, almost star shaped like eight pointed stars. Her hair grew from under the opposite side, falling normally over the rest of her head. Her face looked similar to her humanoid one, save the larger nose with the small bumps of bone along its bridge. Her stomach curved with a bit of a belly beneath full breasts, taught under the halter top Demona had leant her. It was in forest green. The odd loincloth was belted at the waist with a segmented belt. Her tail flared out, four blue spikes near the end of the long tip. Most of the body was blue, with small greenish speckles, opalescent almost. The backs of her wings were dark brown like her hair, the membranes on the undersurface a dark green. Such a blue was close to opalescent beryl... or turquoise. Not quite Demona's shade, thank Matrix. Her figure was full hipped and busted, but the tapering legs gave her a proportionate height that was equal to Maggie's. Perhaps 5 foot nine inches. About close to Brooklyn's height.

"I suppose.. You consider me attractive for a gargoyle," she turned to him.

"Yeah. Really. I'm not just saying that. You are... beautiful..." he breathed, then realized he was staring at her.

"I thought you preferred a female with a more tapered waist and slender bone structure. I am more stocky, solid."

"But your wings... oh man... those are killer wings," Brooklyn stammered out. "And that crest..."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she managed a smile.

"Wow!" someone gasped, as they came into the Labyrinth.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" Rayna asked, holding out a taloned hand to him. "It is me... Rayna Vitreum..."

"Wow, hubba hubba!" Broadway stammered out, his eyes seeming to drill holes in Rayna's clothing. A scent of light musk drifted from him.

"It's okay babe," Brooklyn said, slipping his talon into hers. She shivered at the touch of his crimson skin on hers. "I'm here..."

"I tell you I am Rayna!" she snapped, pulling away.

"Okay... okay, no need to get mad. Easy..." Brooklyn held up his hands.

"I'm so confused..." Rayna held a claw to her forehead, feeling the texture of the bones.

"We want to believe you... since Macbeth seemed to know you," Angela struggled with her words. "But was it just Sevarious? Because you mentioned... my mother..."

"Demona..." she got out, feeling a loud growling noise resounded from within.

"Come on, let's get you back to the castle..." Broadway said, taking her talon.

"I... can't... fly..." Rayna stammered.

"We don't," Brooklyn said. "We glide."

"Should we take her back," Angela asked.

"You are wise to be cautious..." Rayna lowered her eyes. "I would not believe me personally. Would it please your leader to come see me face to face here?"

"He and Elisa are out investigating those Quarrymen," Angela said.

"But we gotta tell Hudson," said Broadway. "He has a right to know she's alive…"

"Er guys, I hate to rain on the parade, but how are we gonna explain bringing in a gargoyle who was with Demona?" asked Brooklyn.

"She was a victim of circumstance," said Angela. Even though the thought of her mother being involved in this circumstance in any way pained her, she could not deny the look of recognition in Macbeth's face. "My mother can be most convincing…But he might think that you're…"

"Matrix, I have to prove myself to him more now then ever," Rayna sighed, sinking to her haunches. "I am an alien visitor on your world! It's not easy to know who is enemy and who is friend!"

"We... don't think of you as an enemy," Angela said. "But my father... will be very wary of you... till..."

"Okay. You two find Goliath. And Hudson..."

"Hudson... is he all right?" Rayna asked.

"He's fine. But look. It's gonna be all right..." Brooklyn slipped his claw around her shoulders. She let him hold her shaking body to his. Was he putting the moves on her?

At this point Rayna didn't care.

"See you back, Brook," Broadway said. "And don't worry. I'll bring Hudson to the labyrinth..."

"Okay..." Brooklyn nodded.

Angela cast one last glance at Rayna, gripping Broadway's claw. What would Father say about all this? She did not like contemplating his answer. What of Hudson? Could he swallow this reality, especially since he and Rayna... the human Rayna were...

Back at Castle Wyvern, Hudson was nearly crawling out of his skin. Bronx nuzzled under his wing, glancing up as he sat on his haunches. "Well, spit it oot lad..."

Broadway fumbled with his claws, nervously tracing a circle on the push nap of the carpet with a taloned toe. Hudson could tell he was holding back a piece of unpleasant news despite his excitement.

"We found... someone..." Broadway got out.

"Rayna?" he asked, a look of hope in the grizzled face.

"Well... we don't know yet..."

"What do ye mean?" Hudson asked, grabbing him and almost shaking him. "Did ye or didn't ye? She's not..."

"No way... but ya gotta bring Bronx. And Goliath. To the Labyrinth right away."

"Where is Brooklyn?"

"He's there."

"And Goliath?"

"He's with Elisa somewhere... protecting her as she's going after the Quarrymen! A whole mass of them are headed on the Tribourough Expressway towards the Bronx... and they're loaded to the teeth with ammo!"

"Och man what a time," Hudson groaned. "Dinnae sit there blathering man! Take me t' find out..."

"There they are!" Josh gasped, brow furrowed in concentration. For hours they had been on the trail, elusive wisps of Castaway's evil drifting just beyond the shadow boy's reach. He had already sensed where Demona was perhaps hiding. Because it was a personal score for he and his friend Eric to settle with her, he filed it away for future reference. Besides, he sensed this score between Castaway and MacDuff was an ancient one that only this black suited individual should solve.

"Isn't it illegal to be tapping into police radio frequencies?" Eric asked Keith, who hunched over the copilot terminal. The young college student had a radiocom thrust into one pierced ear.

"It's one of our only leads to back up what your pal's saying," said Keith.

"You doubt Josh?" Eric asked.

"Well we gotta be sure... that wherever we hit is not where the police are..." Keith said. "I get the feeling this is gonna be ugly..."

"You have only a vague conception of the enormity," Macbeth gritted, eyes dark with anger.

"You've got a class one mad on against Castaway, and that's cool and all, but why do I get this impression that it's something a lot more?" Keith asked.

"His family and mine have been at odds for centuries," said Macbeth. "Let's just say that there is little love lost between my family and the Canmores."

"Why, because they were gargoyle hunters?" asked Keith.

"That, and more. I once donned the hood in symbolic hunt for Demona... but now it is a personal score to settle... once and for all."

"I wanna nail the bastard who hit Carlos," Keith cracked his knuckles.

"You are all too young for revenge," Macbeth shook his head sadly.

"Demona's mine," said Joshua.

"Why else would you have suggested we divide our efforts?" Macbeth glanced up at him. "You and she have a history, don't you?"

"How do you?"

"Come lad, I know much about Demona. For she and I shared history ourselves, and have been each other's enemies for centuries. I know that hunger in your eyes lad. It mirrors my own. And that is why my desire for vengeance will be carried through you..."

"You... are Macbeth, aren't you?" Josh asked, looking him right in the eyes.

"Aye. If you have known Demona, then you know the other side of the story as well," Macbeth turned his head to fix his gaze with Josh's.

"But if I harm Demona... won't it..."

"No longer. The silken thread of fate no longer tethers me to her," he said. "The link is shared with another, who once thirsted for immortality, but will learn to loathe it as I have..."

"What, you're no longer..."

"No," Macbeth nodded. "And he is..."

"What the hell..." Keith put in, then held up his hands. "Okay, just tell me another thing that will blow my mind..."

"Castaway is not far..." Josh said. All day they had been looking, grabbing a few hours of sleep that afternoon at Macbeth's mansion before setting out on their quest again.

"This is our stop," Eric gritted.

"What are you two going to do?" asked Keith.

"You'll see," Eric said.

"Oh shit they're all around us!" Keith gasped. It was three thirty now. Just why Castaway was out in the afternoon was beyond all four individuals. Already the black vans pulled around, helicopters falling into place as they scoped out Macbeth's hovercraft.

"Castaway's in one of the helicopters," said Joshua.

"How can we take on three choppers and those vans?" Keith asked.

"We'll distract them long enough for you to get to Castaway, then we're taking out Demona..." said Josh.

"How are you going to..." Macbeth asked.

The redheaded lad glanced to the raven one. Both unlatched their seatbelts in unison, and stood up straight and tall. Ancient words of power escaped their mouths, and both clasped their hands around amulets they slipped from beneath their shirts. Keith's eyes popped out in sheer shock when he witness crackling energies seething from both clenched fists. There was a sound like low thunder, accompanied by sizzling streams of fire that licked around Eric, and black tongue of shadow that seeped around Josh like a black veil settling slowly. Energies hardened into gleaming armor on both youths.

"Begorra," Macbeth exclaimed. "I had heard the legends... but such powerful sorcery. No wonder..."

"Let us out here," came Eric's voice from beneath the golden dragon helmet. It revealed only the lower part of his face. Over Josh's brow closed a gleaming black and gold vulture headpiece. Both armors had an Egyptian motif to them, complete with kilts with frontispieces.

Macbeth opened the hatch, and black wings popped from beneath a pod on Josh' back. Eric whispered an incantation, "Dragon's might, give the power of flight..." producing a pair of wings from armored shoulders. They leapt out, one after the other.

"Godspeed lads," Macbeth saluted them, before peeling off to the one side. Both winged figures peeled off to the right, in the direction opposite.

Keith grimly slipped the headgear over his face, the red lens of the targeting computer flipping before his right eye. Fingers slipped around the pistol grip of the trigger to his right hip, as Macbeth had explained only a few hours earlier.

Rayna was just getting used to her appearance when she heard a shout from the outer Labyrinth. Brooklyn took her hand, leading her out. It was getting easier to walk now on those feet with a higher center of gravity. She glimpsed the mutate Claw moving amongst the crowd of people who stepped back. Homeless people, lost and confused, yet safe here. She was not too certain what would next happen. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad of an existence here, for starters.

Bronx shot out, bounding up happily to Brooklyn. He almost knocked him over. "Okay, chill," Brooklyn pushed him off. Bronx snuffled at Rayna's claw, a confused look on his face till she gently scratched him behind his fan shaped ears.

"Remember me?" she asked. Bronx panted, nuzzling her as he bumped her with his muzzle. He rubbed his cheek against her belly, as she continued to pet him.

Broadway returned with Angela on his arm. A familiar shape of a brown female holding the claws of a copper male shuffled in. Platinum hair fell over one of her eyes. Delilah.

"Hi guys..."

Rayna felt Bronx push her over, licking her face. At least something friendly beside Brooklyn was glad to see her. Would the others be the same?

"Whoa, get off her," he laughed, pulling Rayna to her feet. Lexington's jaw drooped, and he stared like a kid with his nose in a candy store.

"Jalapeno," he gasped. "Are you sure that its…. Her?"

"Hello... Lexington. I'm... Rayna. Or at least that is what I think. However I'd have a hard time convincing Goliath."

"Hey, Macbeth recognized her, and Bronx likes her so it's okay," Broadway laughed, shuffling up to her. He caught Rayna in a crushing hug that would have killed a human. She laughed as he lifted her off her feet.

Bronx bounded off, into the distance as Angela's voice echoed with that of Hudson. "Down boy!" came Hudson's laugh. Rayna felt Broadway set her on her feet again, a big smile beaming over his bluish green face. "Hey, you're blue like me!" he laughed.

"Well, yes," she said. "We're coordinated..."

"Don't get any ideas," Brooklyn teased.

"Hey, knock it off you two," Rayna cautioned. "No testosterone please..."

"What?" Broadway asked.

"She means not repeats of the Angela situation," said Lexington as he couldn't help but stare. "Hi… Rayna."

"Glad you guys believe me," she sighed with relief. Her heart, her single heart, not the double pulse of a time lords anymore quickened at the sight of Hudson and Angela. Both walked with caped wings, Bronx bounding up to the Trio and the geologist.

"Greetings," she stammered out, and stepped quickly. She nearly tripped over her own tail in her effort to greet the others.

Hudson stopped in his tracks, almost as if he'd been hit with a dead fall. "By the Dragon..." was all he could stammer out.

"How are you doing?" Angela said, her smile melting away Rayna's recent doubt. Her lavender arms extended to the other female gargoyle. Rayna let Angela embrace her, the knuckles of her wings brushing Angela's. Oddly she realized that the tiny claws looked much like Demona's, and hers. But the crest and wing structure were totally different. None of the Trio or Hudson had those twin wings as she.

"This is a difference," Rayna murmured to Angela.

"You are a Gargoyle, like I am," Angela reassured her. "No matter what your name or past. You deserve a chance... and Sevarious has done awful t things like this before..."

Rayna came out of Angela's embrace, tripping as she hurried over to Hudson. Still he stood there, not able to utter a single word. "I didn't think I'd see you again, my friend," she stammered out, throwing her arms around him. Gently she planted a kiss on his cheek. Stiffly he stood there, not returning the embrace.

"Who are ye?" Hudson got out, holding her out at arm length.

"It's Rayna you silly idiot!" laughed Broadway.

"It... canna be," Hudson said shaking his head.

"It is..." Rayna said, a bit hurt at the look of shock in his face. She took one step back from him, turning to look at the Trio. "You might say you were glad to see me..."

"I dinna ken what t' think lass," Hudson shook his head. "This... is... impossible..."

"Dr. Sevarious did this," Rayna looked down. "Demona told me..."

"Demona??? What in blazes were ye doing there?" Hudson suddenly seized her arms. "Who are ye?"

"I am Rayna Vitreum! And if you chose not to believe me, that is your prerogative," she said, prying her hands out of his talons. "And you are hurting me, so I suggest you disengage your hold..."

Both of them turned away, averting their gaze. Rayna's anger burned till she left him behind, and Hudson's eyes shut fast once his back was turned to her. Brooklyn shook his head, Angela and the others in shock.

"Hudson, it is her!" Angela reprimanded him. "Why don't you believe?"

"I cannae," Hudson said flatly.

"But Macbeth says…" Angela protested.

"And what wuild he know?"

"More then you would think!" Rayna snapped to Hudson sullenly. Rayna turned away, slowly striding on her gargoyle feet towards Brooklyn and the Trio. Delilah rested a hand on her, saying, "Rayna... Delilah... friends?"

"Yes, I hope so," she said, patting Delilah's claw. A smile crept over her face. Brooklyn's arm rested around Rayna's shoulder.

"Come on. Let's get outta here... and find Goliath..."

"Hudson, how can you be so mean?" Angela yelled at him. "It is her! Bronx recognized her. And Macbeth knew Rayna from a while ago… and I believe them both! Remember what he did with Talon and Maggie!"

"Yeah," Broadway said.

"It's scientific that he recognized her scent," Lexington added. "Although maybe a DNA test wouldn't hurt..."

"Funny lassie, that ye should mention Sevarious! He made those beasties that had our form! How do we know she's not some clone that Demona made from her, and the real Rayna's not being held prisoner?" Hudson snarled. Rayna's eyes met his, as Brooklyn walked her past. A low snarl escaped his red beak as he passed by. Hudson snorted back. Rayna's eyes met his, no anger present, but regret there.

"Obviously I was wrong about you, Hudson," Rayna said softly, tearing her gaze from his. "How unfortunate."

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here," Brooklyn said, glaring daggers at Hudson.

"Hit up the side, and I'll get the middle!" Josh shouted. He tipped his wings back and forth, signaling to Macbeth's gleaming black hovercraft. The vulture guardian circled around, jetting full force towards the first helicopter. Eric shot past the second, a stream of fire erupting from his gauntleted hand. The flames licked around the chopper's blades, scorching them.

Machine gun fire raked the twin figures. Red rods shot past in a return volley as Macbeth's armaments punched into the choppers. The first popped out of formation, circling back. From below the shots crackled. On all sides bullets seemed to rain on them.

Macbeth's craft swept into the midst of the helicopters, blocking them from Eric and Josh. His laser armaments volleyed them in a red rain.

Angry shouts came from the first van. A well-placed fireblast from Eric surged into their line of view. Immediately the van swerved violently to evade the second column of fire. There came a solid crunch as the second van behind it slammed into the veering first van. Both smashed into the side of the highway seconds later.

"Got two!" Eric shouted to Josh.

"There's more where that came from!" Josh shouted. He swooped down on the third, where the sliding door had swung open to reveal a rocket launcher. A gold sliver shot from Josh's gauntlet, whizzing into the rocket launcher's muzzle. Before it could even get its first shot out, the round chambered. Red tongues of fire licked from the inside. Black hooded persons spilled out of the side seconds before the van exploded into flames.

"All right!" Eric shouted. He swooped in to aid Macbeth, who was taking heavy fire from the second helicopter. Bullets sponged off the craft's body, but it was starting to loose altitude. A rocket sizzled into the left turbine. Small plumes of smoke seeped from the stalling component.

From within, Keith gasped as Macbeth wrestled with the controls. His hands poised on the trigger of the mounted cannons, stabbing buttons frantically. This was no video game, for the black hooded figures tumbling out of the vans were real people. Real bullets ricocheted off the clear perspex of the hovercraft's canopy, and he gritted his teeth at each impact.

"Hold on, lad!" Macbeth shouted to Keith. "Get on the rocket launcher! Main switch before ye, and target with the cannon controls! Make this shot count!"

"Got it!" Keith shouted, and frantically searched for the right button. His finger pressed it, and he gripped the trigger. Swiveling the grip, he aimed the glowing cross hairs before one eye, before the quivering image of the three choppers. One had set off after the two winged shapes of Josh and Eric, while the other two had veered around, their guns blazing. Sickly the craft veered, jerking sideways at an odd angle as Keith struggled to decide where to slam first. His eyes squeezed shut as he aimed to the right, near the tail.

There came a roar, and whoosh, which vibrated the floor. "Miss!" he shouted, then punched for the second. Two seconds, it was armed and ready. A spatter of fire raked on Macbeth's side, shaking the floor as the missile had done.

The chopper veered to the center. Keith aimed just ahead, and pulled the trigger. A white streak of smoke curled behind the rocket as it shot ahead. It blossomed into a large orange and yellow death-flower, right in the mist of the black shape. "Got it!" he shouted.

"Dinnae get too confident!" Macbeth shouted, his fingers stabbing into the controls at his hip. Red shots raked the remaining chopper.

A well placed third rocket streaked out, slamming into the second, which was losing altitude. It whirled down, smoke billowing out from its main body. Keith could see the scrambling black hooded figures, hustling and bustling as they parachuted to safety. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, a nervous choking gathering in the youth's throat.

Suddenly a sickening shot shuddered the entire craft. Keith lost his grip on the trigger, gasping as his neck jerked to one side. Another jolt tossed them right. He glimpsed Macbeth wrestling with the controls, and the world shifted to the extreme right. Out of the viewfinder he saw the helicopter pass over, guns blossoming into fire which seconds later sharply plastered them with a hale of bullets. Desperately he stabbed at the missile armor, aiming. There was one chance.

"He got us good!" Macbeth shouted to him. "He's hit the main turbine..."

"Just a second more!" Keith shouted. "Let him come overhead!"

Macbeth pulled the craft low to the ground, the dip in altitude making Keith think they had left their stomachs far above the highway. They milled about the ground, limping along on their remaining turbine. Till the chopper circled again, roaring at them full bore. Keith aimed carefully, his hand sweating on the trigger.

The rocket stabbed into pulsing, quivering air. White plumes streaked in its wake, propelling the distant cylinder within seconds. A death-flower sprouted from the tail, midway along. Not enough to shatter the chopper, but enough to create a cloud of black smoke that sent it hurtling over them.

Macbeth veered off toward the city, and Keith felt the blood rushing out of his limbs. The world grayed out, and he felt himself falling limp in his chair.

"Hang onto my hand. That's it. Now... nice and easy. Spread your wings..." Brooklyn said, taking her claw in his. They crept to the edge of the building.

"Take a deep breath. And jump!"

"I cannot..." she gasped, but leapt anyway. The ground grew close for a split second, before Brooklyn's firm grasp assured her it was all right.

"Matrix!" she roared, a banshee wail splitting the night. Slowly they leveled off, circling on a puff of wind she'd felt under her wings' membranes. "This is..."

"Awesome!" Brooklyn laughed. "Keep those webs out! Like mine!"

Rayna landed, her claws clutching those of Angela and Brooklyn on either side. Beneath her feet lay the stones of Castle Wyvern. A lavender figure towered over her, his sable hair whipping in the

midnight breeze. Elisa stood at Goliath's elbow, dwarfed by the massive chest and wings he furled.

"So, you have been found," Goliath said.

"I seem to have mixed reactions," she strode up to him, and knelt on one knee. "I have been such a fool. I would not expect you to accept me... even now. Since you and Demona share such ire..."

"Demona?" he asked, a low growl in his throat.

"She... and Sevarious. I made a deal with her, that if she left your Clan alone, she would alter my DNA. She saved the life of myself and a student from a Quarryman attack!"

"You made a deal with her?" he growled. "What in the world possessed you to do that? Don't you know what she's capable of?"

"Yes, Matrix curse me!" she snarled back. "I owed her my life! If I did not acquiesce, you would have been in danger! An innocent boy, one of the students I am responsible for, would have been murdered! Especially now that your Home is in danger of being taken from you! She tried to convince me of her ways, but I don't wish to follow them! We both ran from the Quarrymen in fear!"

"Why did you not stay, if she was who has done this?" Goliath growled.

"Because. Your motives are benevolent, and those of her clan are self serving…." Rayna spat back.

"And your motive was not?" Goliath roared.

"Fine!" Rayna hissed. "That's the way it is then? If you don't wish me to remain, I'll go. Now. Back to the Labyrinth or to her. And do what I can to keep her out of your way. If not I shall find the truth for myself."

She turned away, feet pounding as she felt his judging gaze on her. Brooklyn got in her way, but she brushed him aside. "Wait, where are you going..."

"Someplace far away from here," Rayna said, pushing his arm away gently. "You had best not try

to follow, Brooklyn."

"You can't go back to Demona!" Brooklyn snarled. "She'll twist your brains around and throw you away when she's got what she's wanted!"

"Nevertheless, I am responsible for this. And I won't run away any more," Rayna said firmly. "Besides, who says I am going to stay with her? I'd be better off with Macbeth. For at least he believes me, and still considers me friend… and I must find him before more Quarrymen die…"

Spreading her wings, she leapt off the battlements. She just made it to the next building, slipping down its side out of site.

Brooklyn leapt off after her, an anguished cry in his throat.

"Rayna!"

"Goliath?" Elisa asked. "You can't just let her go!"

Goliath gave no answer. He simply looked out over the city, sighing deeply.

"All available units! Armed Quarrymen disturbance on the Triborough Expressway! Investigate immediately!" Blared Chavez' voice on the police radio. Morgan snapped up, looking to his partner in alarm as they both listened to the urgent message.

Minutes later they pulled up to the scene. Already the sun was slipping behind the distant spires of Manhattan. A familiar red Fairlane squealed up seconds after Morgan's unit shot onto the on ramp. He pulled to at the tangle wreckage of two black vans.

They saw the odd hovercraft as it wove in and out, under fire of the black chopper. Both craft thundered by, veering off over the Hudson river. Thankfully they costed out towards the Verrazano narrows... and not inward towards the city...

"Oh no," Elisa drew in her breath sharply, when she recognized Macbeth's hovercraft limping away towards the river. Barely it managed to clear, heading out towards where she guessed he had his estate.

What had he done this time?

A Quarryman chopper limped after it, smoking, yet still in hot pursuit. Both craft flew in a bee line towards Macbeth's manor.

"This is nuts," Matt Bluestone commented beside her. "What made that Macbeth guy take on Castaway?"

"Or was it the other way around?" asked Elisa. "Maybe Castaway attacked him first..."

"Both of them were at the rally," Matt pointed out. "And a black hovercraft was seen the last time when the Quarrymen attacked that mansion last night. And there was the disruption before that too, two days after we thought the Quarrymen had scurried back to their holes... they showed up, and there was that rash of book store hits..."

"You're right," Elisa muttered. "Even before our units got there we saw a black hovercraft hitting them back hard... as if it were fighting them off..."

"You don't suppose..."

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Elisa asked him. "Somehow they have a little war going on... and I would hate to see who was caught in the crossfire..."

"But if it is him... there are laws against vigilante justice," Bluestone said.

"Right, that's the problem, even though I don't mind him mopping up those Quarrymen scum instead of us..." Elisa grumbled. They pulled up where the other cars had congregated, at the midst of the downed chopper. Eyewitnesses swarmed behind police tape lines. Captain Chavez herself had already hit the scene, climbing out of an unmarked car minutes before Elisa pulled up.

"Detective Maza! Detective Bluestone," she nodded, as they both climbed out of the Fairlaine.

"Another one?" asked Matt.

"Unfortunately. This is the third time this week," Chavez tapped her foot. "I want answers, people..."

"We think it might be a personal feud between Castaway... and... er..."

"A third party," said Elisa. "Who's been known to hate Quarrymen as much as we do..."

"Really," Chavez muttered, green eyes dark at the implication. "Whoever the hell it is I don't know whether to thank him or arrest him for creating these messes. So far the Quarrymen have been stopped at every turn by our mystery man... mercifully before anyone got hurt... That's the dilemma..."

"And where were they headed this time?" asked Elisa. "Looks to me like there weren't any reports of activity till the hovercraft showed up..."

"Exactly," said Matt. "So this attack was personal..."

"Why has Castaway gotten so bold all of a sudden?" asked Elisa, fingering her lip. Chavez shook her head.

"Any luck on the kidnaping case?" asked Chavez, eyes focused on Elisa.

"No. Not a peep," Elisa shook her head.

"Not from any of the other units," Chavez sighed. "One good professor, out of many, and this city swallowed her whole..."

"You knew this geologist?" asked Matt.

"Yes," Chavez nodded. "She was a grad student when I was at the Academy. I was taking some extra curricular courses, just for the hell of it. Took a rock climbing course for my phys ed, and she was in it. A natural climber too. Took a city girl like me and turned me into a half decent wall crawler... and then we were pretty tight. She was even at the summer camp as a counselor when my daughter Leticia was twelve. Probably what turned her onto geology..."

"Didn't know," Matt muttered.

"That's the kicker," Chavez glanced at the still smoking wreck of the nearest chopper. "The best teachers are the ones that seem to be the first to go..."

"We'll find her," Elisa gritted. "Even if we have to wring Castaway's neck to do it..."

"Let's hope for his sake you get to him before I do," Maria Chavez snapped, breaking out of her personal reverie.

Matt tossed a conflicted look in their direction. "So what now, Captain?"

"Get after that hovercraft. I already sent a chopper after them. But I want two plainclothes there to sort out the pieces..." Chavez nodded gravely. Elisa and Matt leapt into the Fairlane, leaving Chavez to her musings out over the Hudson.

"Where the hell are you, Ray?" she asked.

Rayna leapt off the building, spanning her wings. She shrieked as she felt her breath sail out. Rather unwieldy she soared along, glancing back as her hair flapped in the night. Where would she go? Macbeth perhaps, for he always had been there for her throughout the centuries.. But how would she find him, on his quarryman vendetta? Rayna gritted her teeth. She'd have to draw the Quarrymen to her, and then perhaps Macbeth would be close behind.

She saw Brooklyn and Angela sailing after her. No sign of Hudson. Quickly she banked, plummeting like a stone as she crashed into a rooftop. Slowly she saw them pass overhead, headless of her. That stone felt odd under her belly. Glistening stars overhead fought to shine through the smog. Rayna rolled on her back, glancing up. Shivering she folded her wings around her rather painfully. Bruised, battered, and confused. How far away all her travels seemed. For the first time in eons she felt isolated. Not because she chose it, and relished it.

Yet because she had few others like her.

"Rayna!" bellowed Brooklyn. "Come back!"

Rayna didn't know which rejection hurt more. Hudson's, or Goliath's judgmental silence. Slowly she felt hot tears welling up from those eyes.

"Hudson," she mouthed. "Brooklyn..."

Why did two primitive beings opinions of her matter so much? Was it the Gargoyle instinct taking reign of her mind? In a humanoid body, she had the pleasure of physical attraction. It was a hunger to be satisfied, and a pleasure to touch. But that odd pang of regret she had not felt since a week's time ago.

Hudson. Why should one being take greater significance over other encounters? Sure the attraction was there. As always with other flirtations. Encounters. Yet this one was far different from the rest. Even from her times with Macbeth, who had proved a gentle and strong lover times in the past, and a stalwart friend in more present times. No, Hudson was far different, for he did not ache with the centuries of regret. Someone with a lifetime of experience reaching out to her, telling her how lonely she must be. For the first time she realized he must be right. Why had he rejected her then? Did he not have feelings for her that she dared hope might constitute… love?

"You gave us quite a fright," Demona's voice came.

"You," Rayna said, looking up at the twilight blue figure, her purple wings caped.

"It was cruel of you to go. Why did you run?"

"I needed confirmation," Rayna looked away.

"And they rejected you, didn't they?" Demona asked.

"Yes," Rayna sighed, glancing up at Demona. There seemed regret in the face. She did not dare tell Demona of Macbeth's acceptance. What good would it do. The acceptance of one human was not enough to ease the pain of the other's rejection. No, Rayna told herself. She had to take this opportunity to learn the truth once and for all.

"You see how hypocritical they are? Trusting humans, but when it comes to their own kind they reject you.."

"I suppose you are right," Rayna took the offered claw as Demona pulled her up.

"Let us go home," Demona said. "There is still much to learn."

"What is my purpose, Demona?" she asked, glancing at her. "I am an alien mind trapped in a terrestrial body. Without the capacity to explore. Space and time are denied me..."

"Why... to live. To survive. I had hoped you wouldn't find out this way. But I suggest you come now. Lest the Humans hunt you down..."

"I... still am having difficulty gilding..."

"Take my hand," Demona offered. Clasping her beryl claw in Demona's blue one, she let Demona lead her to the rooftop. Spanning their wings, Demona pulled her off.

That momentary dizziness set in as both gargoyle females leveled off.

A loud fwap sounded as their feet hit the roof of Nightstone Industries. A light went on in Rayna's head. "What are we doing here?"

"Why, to reunite you with the Clan," she said. "You must be hungry and tired after your foray. Come this way..."

She followed Demona's swaying step, the wings caping around her sloping shoulders. Her own wings caped, her gait falling almost automatically into the female's steps. There came a slow grinding as Demona depressed a button on the control unit adhered to her belt.

"Enter," she said. The panel on the roof slid back, revealing a sumptuous apartment. A few steps in and soft carpet caressed her taloned toes. Rich thick nap that spanned a vast space. A whole entertainment complex spanned one wall. Computer banks and high technology crammed a corner unit.

"My office," Demona said.

"You... are Dominique Destine," Rayna said.

"A necessary guise."

"Why do you possess the ability to morph?" she asked. "No gargoyle possesses that capacity..."

"It is a gift from Puck," she shrugged. "It serves its purpose..."

"No stone hibernation," Rayna muttered. The glass panel slid to behind her. She warily watched Demona reaching into a sideboard, as she took two glasses and a snifter of some odd substance.

"Drink?" she asked. Slowly she poured two glasses.

"I doubt that will help me. If your intent is to supply intoxication… I cannot reap the benefits of alcoholic stupor…"

"It will not affect you in the same way. No, you are a Gargoyle. Do not forget this simple glorious fact..."

A gamy smell perked her nostrils. Demona placed a flank of something upon a plate. She tore into it greedily, then held it before her, hips swaying as she brought the mass of flesh before Rayna.

"Eat. It's freshly killed. There is nothing better to a gargoyle then the taste of game..."

Rayna sniffed, and took a tentative nibble. Blood seeped into her mouth over smooth muscle. The taste was not offensive, but rather pungent. Before she knew it she took one bite, then another. Demona smiled winningly, as she offered it back.

"No. That is yours," she said with a small alto laugh. Luscious chunks of fresh kill worked their way into Rayna's mouth. Her fangs were well suited to tearing off large chunks of venison. Each wash of blood on her tongue was ambrosia! Intoxicating. She took the goblet of wine from Demona, washing the iron taste of blood from her mouth. A shot hit her deeply in the brain.

"Oh," she drew in her breath.

"You like?" Demona asked, peeking from beneath that golden crest that shadowed her eyes. She took the empty plate from Rayna's hand, and set it aside. Rayna's eyes watched the movement of the gargoyle female, each sway of her hips rocking her mind into an odd rhythm. Strange pheromones wafted her way. What did this scent signal.

"Demona, what does this ritual... symbolize?" she asked.

"Friendship. Sisterhood. An offer of sharing fresh kill among Gargoyles means that I offer my shelter. Be seated. You must be exhausted."

"I hibernated..."

"Do sit, sister," she said, patting the sectional sofa near the entertainment complex. Rayna felt her legs take her there. Her tail slapped Demona's thigh as she struggled into a sitting position. Demona laughed throatily, her fangs baring for a moment.

"This body is clumsy..."

"Oh, but you've only been a gargoyle for three days. It takes a hatchling years to grow..."

"One half human rate... lifespan two hundred..." she muttered, drowning the crawling in her stomach with a waterfall of wine. Lightly Demona traced a claw over her shoulder. "You call me sister," Rayna leveled her gaze at Demona. "May I ask that reference is from the fact that I share your genetic material?"

"We are related by blood. Gargoyle clan relationships do not follow human norms," she said, a hint of distaste on the word "human."

"Perhaps just as well," Rayna sighed. "For the human idea that a female needs to have exclusively one mate."

"Tell me what's on your mind, Rayna. After all, I am here for you." Demona smiled, resting a hand on hers. "As one gargress to another…"

"He rejected me, Demona. Why would a gargoyle male, when he cared for what he thought was a human, then reject her when he see's she a gargoyle?" Rayna stammered out. The events poured out in a steady stream till she buried her head in her hands.

"Ah my child," Demona sighed, and gently pulled Rayna into an embrace. It felt so good to be held by someone, anyone.

"Sorry to be sobbing like some damn fool child," Rayna pushed back angry tears.

"The answer is simple. Hudson is a fool. He has been polluted by human values, and possibly prefers the company of humans to his own kind."

"I thought he cared for me," Rayna shook her head, gnashing her fangs. Demona leaned back, crossing her ankles as she rested them on the coffee table, tail curled gracefully around her flanks. Rayna couldn't imagine ever gaining that level of control with her limbs.

"So intelligent, and yet so new to this," she said, in what seemed like sympathy, pouring more wine into Rayna's glass. "So much I can teach you."

"What do you propose to teach me..." she asked. Demona laughed again, gently brushing a talon against her cheek. That smell wafted again in Rayna's nostrils.

"The value of Clan, of true friendships. I did not abandon you, nor will I, Rayna. I am here for you always. And Gargoyles do not desert Gargoyles."

"I see that now. All you've done, for your own kind," Rayna glanced up at her, eyes moist.

"At last you see clearly. And as a member of this Clan you can help me even more." Demona smiled winningly, patting Rayna's turquoise thigh.

"Quit your playing Demona," came a laugh.

"What are you doing here, imbecile?" Demona snapped, her demeanor changing in a split second. From odd hostess to a snarling, spitting demon. Eyes flared crimson, her fangs bared.

"Is that any way to greet your love?" he asked.

"Thailog," Rayna inclined her head, knocking back more wine.

"Ah, the prodigal gargoyle returns," he grinned, a throaty laugh escaping as he strode into the blue light.

"I told you it could wait!" Demona growled low in her throat. "I am talking to her now!"

"You must not be so selfish, my dear."

"Come with me, now. Excuse me, Sister. But I must have a word... with my... love..." she gritted, that last word a bitten off growl. Yanking Thailog by the claw she pulled him out of the office with her.

Rayna's head spun, as she dropped her head back into the plush sofa. "Clocklead partha menen clech... aroon arron arron," she mumbled, the words sounding odd in her gargoyle voice.

"If only you could see me now, Doctor," she laughed, resting her heels on the sofa back, her tail wrapping around her leg easily like a serpent. She ran hands down her gargoyle body, laughing. Another long drought of wine tingled her toes.

"Clockleda sheena trrinach, Arroon arron aroon! Haroon harryn harrooohn..." she sang on, the Doctor's Venusian lullaby coming easily to her lips.

"Yes... I am intox-i-cated," she laughed again. All strength dropped from her limbs as she sang to herself.

Macbeth parked the craft just within his hangar. He had managed to elude the chopper, which had fallen far behind. Quickly he slipped Keith out of the seat, carrying him inside. The lad had weathered his taste of battle well, but the shock of action had mercifully overcome the young college student. As he lugged Keith into the sitting room, something clanked onto the hallway floor. Frowning, Macbeth picked up a small blue plate etched in gold.

"Good Lord," Macbeth muttered, picking up the familiar talisman. "How the devil did he get his hands on this?"

It would not do for Keith Polasky to have this item in his possession. Lord knew what would happen if he figured out what it was, and how to use it accidentally. This poor lad had enough realities shattered to last a lifetime. He slipped it carefully into his battle armor.

Then, he carried Keith up to a bedroom on the upper level. Grimly he left the lad to sleep peacefully while he contemplated his next move. It would not be long before Canmore would either trace him here, or rake the city in his craze to find him. A quick note scribbled to his house staff would insure that Keith would be safely returned to campus when he awakened. Would he be able to go back to his studies, his usual life after this week? Castaway had ruined so many lives with his insane vendetta, but Macbeth had dragged his share of youths into the fray as well. How many more emotional casualties would pile up on both sides?

"This ends now," Macbeth decided, climbing onto one of the smaller hover bikes he had scrounged together after a mishap had reduced much of his wares to a jumble of circuits. Fleance and Banquo were long gone, dismissed after their less then reliable service. Whining engines flared into life beneath him. Soon he jetted out into the night which was barely half over.

"Dolt! What was the meaning of that! I was just reaching her!" Demona snapped.

You are a minx, my dear. What was the meaning of that little display."

"I mean to follow clan ritual!"

"But that last little flourish. I can see it in your eyes. You like her... don't you!"

"She is mine!" Demona snapped. "You'll have your turn!"

"She is a breeding female. Since the loss of Delilah that does limit matters."

"I am with shell, you fool! Thanks to Scarab's spell! Isn't that enough to stave even your appetites?"

"You wish to perpetuate our race, why do you hesitate? I am anxious to maximize potential. Is she in heat or is she not?"

"It takes time. She's not a battery hen!" Demona gritted, straightening her hair. "Sometimes a gargress needs persuasion!"

"I grow impatient... my love..."

"And you must realize, my love that I know more about Gargoyles in my one thousand years then you ever will!"

"And that is supposed to make me twist my schedule for your own strange appetites? Really Demona, you never cease to amaze me!"

"I made her!" Demona snapped. "You wanted a female! As did I. You're just mad your little love slave got away and developed her own mind..."

"The loss of Delilah was regretful. But my dearest, you are being selfish with Rayna. Admit it. This is the time for our season of breeding, not the time to satiate your odd tastes..."

"I don't think you made the best impression on her," Demona snapped. "You would take her as a rutting boar! She is intelligent... strong!"

"I would not waste my time with stupid frivolity!" Thailog laughed.

"And I suppose you would just as well let the Clones have her now?"

"It would depend the Gene pool..."

"You have no sense of romance. You never did! Gargoyle mating is a sacred thing! If I am to have a clan..."

"Your clan? So our clan does not exist?"

"My clan is your clan! Without me you are nothing! Do my years, my centuries of experience mean nothing to you?"

"My dearest Demona..." he cupped her chin. "I do love you. But... I must admit you have your own plans..."

"As do you," she broke away.

"And what if she were to know? Rayna is yours? How arrogant you are, my love. Just because you were the one that suggested we use your inheritance..."

"Is that true?" came Rayna's voice.

"Rayna... sister," Demona stumbled towards the stumbling figure. "Are you unwell?"

"Demona..." she said, moving stiffly. Claws steadied her.

"Oh little one you have drunk too much," she took Rayna's head into her arms. Her knuckles brushed against her crest. "But don't worry. A sleep in stone shall remove the effects..."

"Oh please," Thailog laughed. "Do stop messing about Demona. Is she ready or not?"

"Ready for What?" Rayna asked, looking up. Demona held her close in her arms, in a fierce embrace. Talons stroked through her dark hair.

"My sister, my little one."

"Demona... you... did this, didn't you. Sevarious... was but an excuse. A lackey.."

"This is rich," Thailog leered.

"Rayna, he did the operation..."

"You made the offer," Rayna pulled out of her grasp, standing on her own shaky feet. Her eyes gazed at her claws, glancing down.

"My dear child..."

"I am seven hundred years old," Rayna said flatly.

Demona's arms wrapped her close, her chin rested in the groove of Rayna's shoulder. "You are old as I am. Only three centuries separate us. But you need not fear... none shall have you..."

"I am breeding stock to you, Thailog. A breeding female. Will you turn me loose upon those poor half sentient wretches?"

Red eyes looked into hers, the gleam in them brightening as Thailog continued to watch, arms folded across his gleaming armor.

"No, child, say no more," Demona whispered, stroking Rayna's back. Her hand brushed a wing strut, sending an electric jolt through Rayna. Her knees turned to putty, her weight supported by the other female. Demona's fingers traced her hair, her crest. A shaking kiss planted to her brow.

"Oh, enough of the melodrama," Thailog shook his head. "Demona, you do disappoint me."

Demona withdrew from Rayna, who stood as still as statue. Her feet rooted in place, but she guessed in her inward biological clock that the night was not even half over. Fiery red hair lay on Rayna's breast, Demona's wings gently clasping around her in an embrace.

"I never wanted this..."

"You... did this," Rayna's talons dug into her fists, drawing blood.

"I tire of this Game Demona," a low snarl came into Thailog's throat.

"No! She is mine!" Demona growled, separating herself from Rayna. Eyes blazed crimson, illuminating Thailog's look of bemusement.

"I... am..." Rayna trembled. Demona turned back to her, eyes bright with tears.

"I am tired of this. Come now," Thailog's hand clamped on her arm.

"Let me alone..." Rayna said, pulling away her claw.

"You are feisty little one," he laughed, gripping her wrists in both his viselike talons.

"All the better..."

"You... LET ME GO! RELEASE ME!!!" Rayna growled low in her throat. Thailog was painted in crimson light as her claw lashed out. The tail twined around his legs, Rayna jerking her hips back. Unceremoniously he crumpled to the floor.

"You little bitch, I like it when you're rough," he laughed, grabbing her waist. Demona stood stone still, her face a mask of pain. What was going on here?

"Screeow!" Rayna snarled, her clawed foot slashing his face. Thailog bellowed, clutching his face. Rayna spun as he scrambled to his feet, her foot smashing into his chest with a roundhouse kick.

"Stop!" Demona cried, eyes blazing. She threw herself on Thailog. Rayna's fist pistoned into his face, already wet with lateral scratches.

"You... little alien bitch! You'll pay for that!" Thailog roared. He cuffed Demona off, the female slamming into the floor like a sack of bricks. She rolled over, groaning.

Suddenly the ground shook under Thailog's feet. Rayna's eyes blazed scarlet, her fists balled at her sides. "You... primitive... protoplasmic brute! I'll die before I mingle my genes with yours!"

"I will have you, gargoyle slut!" he roared. Rayna leapt out of the way as Thailog pounced. Her tail whiplashed against his arm. Claws flashed, ripping into his armor with the force of a hurricane! Demona's hand punching into her midriff, knocking her off. Rayna clutched her middle in pain, slinking away as Demona leaned over Thailog. He lay so still, an ebony mass with white hair askew of his mutilated face. Sickness and loathing mated in her belly, squirming into hate. Her arched feet could not carry her far enough away from them. Dropping to all fours she scampered away.

"Come back!" Demona's cry sounded. With a grunt Demona tackled her, landing atop her. "You cannot go! You are mine! You owe me your life!"

"I owe you nothing!" Rayna spat, hurling Demona off her. Dazed, she shook her scarlet tresses.

On her feet, the turquoise gargoyle roared, her wings flaring wide. Demona rose, circling as her own eyes blazed.

"You will see, if I have to beat it into you! The humans will never rest till our kind is slain!"

Scarlet rips whispered to life under Demona's claws as they raked against her flank. Rayna snarled, slashing back a set on Demona's arm. The tail snaked around her ankles, tripping the new gargoyle.

"I am my own person!" Rayna cried.

"I freed you! They will not have you!"

"Neither will you! You lied to me! It was your plan all along!"

"You are but another facet of me!" Demona said, pinning her down under her own body. Rayna writhed in her grasp, worming free.

"No! WE are alike, but we chose different paths!"

"We are one blood now! Sisters! You cannot deny the bond we share in spirit! Only I understand what and who you really are!"

"No! Never!" Rayna spat, raking Demona's face with her clawed foot. She kicked her in the teeth, scrambling free at last. Several leaps took her into the office, feet pounding into the carpet. There was the door, closed. And beyond that freedom.

"You fool if you go out now, the Humans will kill you!"

"I don't care," Rayna said. "Better that then your deceit..."

"Come back!" Demona roared, a banshee wail splitting the retreating Rayna's ears, as she raised a rifle. A shot flared out, hitting Rayna right between the wing struts. The geologist crumpled, inches from freedom.

"Stop right there, Demona!" snarled a figure in glittering armor.

Demona stopped cold, her eyes flaring crimson. "Who are you to interfere… YOU!"

"That is right, Demona," came the voice of the young man, his golden hair radiant in the moonlight. His gleaming Vulture armor wrapped powerfully about his slender form.

"What the…" Rayna gasped. Someone was at her side, a slender figure trying to help her up. Its face was shielded behind the mask of a Dragon, the wings folding behind his back.

"Easy there, Miss Vitreum," he whispered. "We've come to take you away from this…"

"Eric Spellburg?" she asked.

"Yes. Come with me… you look really bad…"

Demona faced off against the young warrior, anger in her face. "Not even you can stop me…"

"Get her out of here, Eric!" Joshua Blade snapped to his friend. Eric helped Rayna to rise, and quickly chanted a healing spell. He pulled her out the sliding glass doors.

"You'll return," Demona spat blood from her split lip, hugging her stomach. "There is no place on this planet you can hide from me..."

"We lost him, sir," Bruno announced.

"What?" Castaway snapped.

"I know where he went," a gravely woman's voice piped in. "I used to work for him! I would bet he slunk back to his manor..."

"Why did you say nothing before?" asked Castaway, gripping Fleance's shoulder firmly. She crouched in the faltering chopper with the other remainders of the Quarryman assault team. Already he had called in his agents to try to round up the others whose vehicles had fallen to the person in black.

"Well... you don't wanna deal with him when he's angry," Banquo piped in. "He kinda... well... makes the police force look tame..."

"You two worked for him! Did you not tell me his secrets?" Castaway laughed. "There's nothing he can surprise me with that I cannot be ready for, so why do you hold back even now?"

"There's stuff he wouldn't even tell us," Fleance turned to him. "All we got were bits and pieces here and there. As soon as we thought we'd had him all figured, he'd pull something outta his ass and surprise the hell outta us. All Banquo and I cared about at first was the money..."

"I'm paying you now, so you had best tell me everything!" Castaway grabbed her firmly. "And I do mean everything!"

"All right boss, whatever you say," she broke away from him. "Sheesh!"

"Uh oh... speak of the devil..." Bruno called back. Castaway pushed his way to the front of the chopper. The radar pinged with a small single object, about the size of a gargoyle.

"It's moving too fast for a gargoyle," Castaway mused.

"It's a hover-bike! Like the ones Macbeth had us using when that loony king appeared outta nowhere..." Banquo snapped his gloved fingers.

"About when he fired us, right?" Fleance laughed. "Well, it's payback time!"

"Indeed! Shoot him out of the sky, my dear, but leave him alive! He's mine!" Castaway laughed.

Fleance cracked her knuckles, scooping up her rocket launcher as she shifted to the sliding door. The Quarrymen slipped it open to the night sky. She sighed the hover-bike, closing fast, its telltale whine ripping over the battering surge of the chopper.

"Say hello to your subjects, your royal pain in the ass!" she chuckled, aiming her cross hairs just ahead of his trajectory.

"Dragon's might, give me wings to fly tonight!" Eric chanted. Energy sparkled around his armored shoulders as wings spread from his back. "Come on let's go!"

"I can't fly!" Rayna despaired.

"Take my hand and I'll help!" Eric said. Gripping hands, they leapt off the building. Both separated as a thermal caught them up, Eric watching her carefully as she glided in his wake.

Was it the alcohol that caused her to wend and wave? She hurled herself into the breezes, a wind whipping her membraned wings. Rayna was snared as an autumn leaf in the whistling wind, her eyes shutting in her dizziness. Her own wail, a mirror to Demona's own, split the night. Her body shuddered at the memory of Thailog's touch.

"Are you all right?" Eric asked, circling around her on golden and red wings. Flying seemed so simple to him!

"I can't believe what she tried to do!" she gasped, shuddering.

"Please, watch where you're going!" Eric cried. Rayna gasped as a crosswind slammed into her. Inexperienced at gliding, she plummeted like a stone. Eric shot after her, struggling to catch her.

"Matrix," she coughed, crashing into a rooftop as she slid across. Hard lights exploded behind her skull as she slammed into the blockhouse. For a moment her head rung like a gong, and she lay stunned. Gargoyle bodies were hard, but still vulnerable.

She almost didn't care if the Quarrymen found her. Her life had degenerated into a protoplasmic soup from which no life form could be predicted. There was no logic, no pattern to her life anymore.

"Rayna, please get up!" Eric pleaded, gently slipping his arm behind her head. He chanted a healing spell, silver sparklers soothing away her pain. "Josh can't hold Demona for long! I have a terrible feeling he's gotten into something more then he can handle…"

With Eric's help she rose, limping as she stumbled to the edge of the roof. As she knelt, she glanced at the distant spires. Then downwards to the street below. Hugging her head in taloned claws she tried to shake away the effects of intoxication. Throwing back her head she saw the distant lights of the Erie building, so close and yet so far.

"Maybe I can reverse the spell," Eric said, taking her claws in his.

"I don't think…"

"I did this and I'm going to make it right!" he stamped his foot. Stepping back, he squeezed shut his eyes. Wrestling ancient words of power to his lips he spit silver sparks. Eyes flared blue as he chanted,

"What was done, I now undo! Return you to the form that's true!"

Rayna winced at the hokyness of the spell. Eric knew it was from Fern Gully, a picture he'd seen years ago. But somehow the words seemed right. For a brief moment she was painted in silver radiance, his eldritch power snaking around her. A painful knife stabbed into her heart, rending all asunder. Features began to melt and flow like hot wax, Rayna feeling the pain that ripped along every cell in her body.

"I… can't…" Eric moaned, his face contorting. Something was fighting his magic, cutting it off from the source. Rayna dropped to her knees, the features hardening like stone again to how they were. Mercifully the pain subsided, and both fell to the rooftop with a thud.

Slowly Eric Spellburg rolled over, clutching his throbbing head. Rayna stirred, lifting her wings. Unchanged, she looked to him with dark eyes, brimming with tears.

"I… can't do it," Eric stammered. "You were in such pain… and I can't fix it! I… failed you… Rayna… I'm just not powerful enough…"

An anguished wail erupted as she opened her mouth. Another sob expanded into a mournful howl. Again and again she vented the confusion in this sonorous song, her lungs gladly converting air to sound.

Eric knew exactly how she felt at that moment, alone in a world that sought to destroy her. Gently he hugged her close, offering what comfort he could.

"What the hell is that?" asked Brooklyn, as he glanced up. Goliath heard the cry, and shivered.

"It sounds like..."

"Demona..." Goliath gritted.

"It wasn't too far away," came Brooklyn's low growl. He leapt to the battlements, all set to leap off.

"Wait there a minute lad," came Hudson's voice. "I'm going wi ye. I have a score t' settle with her myself."

"No. I shall go, alone. I must find out once and for all what is truth and what is fantasy..."

Unfurling his wings he set out. Hudson and Brooklyn exchanged a glance, then grunted in unison.

The grizzled mentor and the second in command hurled off after their leader.

Demona snarled, raising her laser rifle to fend off the new attacker. The two circled warily, Demona's eyes flaring crimson at the warrior who dared interrupt her conversation.

"I know you now!" she growled. "Not even you can stop me! You forget that your family owes me its freedom!"

"That doesn't mean I can let you harm an innocent!" Joshua countered, whirling his staff. Demona's shot crackled off his vulture armor. Swinging under, his staff cracked the weapon from her hands.

Demona dropped, swinging her tail under his feet. Nimbly Josh leapt, flipping over her head. A crack landed across her back, right on the wing struts. Sob, Demona staggered.

"You… insolent pup!" she gritted, as his second blow knocked her to her knees.

Josh raised his staff over the fallen gargress, ready to knock her cold. Demona appeared to feint, but then the words, "Fulminous Venite!" spat from her lips. Blue lightening crackled over Josh's armor.

"Argh!" he gasped, stunned. Demona's foot traced, tripping the young warrior. He staggered, staff whirling to block her roundhouse kick. They parted, circling warily with ten feet betwixt them.

The staff danced with ease, Josh straightening up. Over his shoulders, and around the back of his head it swung, gathering momentum. Demona felt its tip whiz past her scarlet tresses. Her tail whipped around the shaft, yanking the weapon forwards.

"Not this time, Demona," Josh laughed, and let the staff go. His foot cracked into her jaw, sending her to the floor. He plucked his staff from her tail as she staggered from the force of the blow.

"I think not…" came Thailog's voice. He nursed a bleeding face, his pistol raised to fire at the vulture guardian. Flanking him on two sides were four pairs of crimson eyes that blazed like hot coals. Josh heard the crackle of energy from several laser weapons.

Josh dove out of the way of Thailog's blast, vanishing into the shadows. A second later he appeared, leaping off the building. Thailog fired once more, his shot connecting with nothing. His dark shape silhouetted against the moon, veering off.

"After him you fools!" he snarled. Pasadena and Brentwood leapt off, hurtling after the dark shape.

Thailog bent to tend to Demona, who was slowly beginning to heal. Already the blood had ceased to trickle from her lips. "My love…" he began.

"Don't even go there," Demona pushed him aside. "Where is that insolent brat?"

"He escaped…"

"No… look there!" Demona growled, picking up her discarded laser weapon.

"Where are you going?"

"You sent the clones after a shadow, you fool! He has the power over them!" Demona yelled back as she leapt off the balcony. Violet wings caught the midnight air, propelling her after the true shape of Josh. However was it really, or just another shadow.

"Get after her!" Thailog shouted to the remaining clones. A whole series of dark shadows seemed to split off from the vulture shape, scattering the searchers on the night air after them.

Fire rocketed past, and he veered just in time. Lowering his eyebrows he peered at the streaking chopper. Somehow it was still flying, the smoke reduced to a minimum. Another missile split the night, and he carefully intercepted it with the hover-bike's armaments narrowly before it impacted.

He could well guess whose fingers were behind the launcher. "Always were missing the target, were you, Fleance?" he chuckled. "Ye'll have t' do better then that, lass!"

The chopper swung round, surging at full force towards him. Macbeth gunned the engine, full thrust ahead. He reached at his hip, charging his lightening gun. Somehow he had a feeling he would be needing every advantage.

The explosions sounded closer and closer, but he heeded them not. One purpose narrowed to pinprick sharpness within his focus. Castaway was somewhere on that helicopter. He could almost sense his ancient foe's presence. A vendetta passed from father to son, and though the name had changed, the purpose was the same.

At the last possible moment, Macbeth tilted to the side, rolling under as the chopper streaked overhead. Wind whipped his silver hair and slashed at his vision. A single charge slammed into the belly of the chopper, blue lightening sizzling into the night.

************************************************

"What the hell is he doing?" Banquo shouted, gripping Bruno's seat. They gritted their teeth, expecting a mighty crunch as the hover-bike hurtled right at them, growing larger and larger. Till they could see Macbeth's stony expression fixed right into their sight, eyes sparking with defiance to the last. Fleance despite her bluster shivered. In that split second before he would impact, her heart jumped in fear. He wore that selfsame expression whenever his focus was fixed on a specific goal. And heaven help anyone who got in his way!

"Oh, shit," she gasped. Everyone threw hands before their eyes, anticipating the crunch of bones and metal. When that moment passed, and there was no impact, everyone wondered.

"That should have killed him!" Banquo muttered.

"Good thing for you it didn't," Castaway snarled. "I want him alive, so I can have the privilege of killing him myself!"

Lightening erupted from the cabin floor. A huge hole ripped through, the Quarrymen in the back cabin screaming in fear. There came the whine of a jet engine, and the door slid open as the Quarrymen aimed their guns. Empty air battered them.

"Where is he?" Castaway shouted. They could discern the hover-bike's distinct whine, over the helicopter's din, but could not find the source.

"Canmore!" screamed a loud yell that shivered them. "Face me ye coward!"

"We're dead," Fleance said to Banquo. She gripped her gun, moving to the door as she trained it to the empty air. A net shot out of nowhere, sizzling as it crackled around the Quarrymen clustered in the aft cabin. They screamed and shouted, Fleance among them. Banquo moved to help her, and felt his legs turning to putty as he wildly glanced around. A lightening blast sizzled in from outside, raking over his armored form. He crumpled, all muscles firing at once into a full contracted stun.

Castaway snarled, picking up his hammer as he holstered his pistol. "Wait here!"

"But boss..."

"Keep flying!"

Bruno's teeth chattered at the tension. Castaway leaned out of the chopper, glancing wildly around. A solid kick landed in his midriff. Barely he managed to swing his hammer around to bash the net gun from the offending hand.

"Very clever," he snarled, glancing down to see Macbeth's hover-bike latched to the chopper's struts, the immortal sovereign leaning just between it and the strut itself.

"Care t' step outside?" Macbeth asked him, gray eyes fixing into those behind the Quarryman hood.

"I thought you'd never ask, fool!" Castaway laughed, and pistoned out at him with a kick. Macbeth held on with one hand, kicking the hover-bike away as he reeled from the impact. Castaway was all over him, leaping from chopper on top of Macbeth.

Unfortunately the hammer dropped from his hand, whirling to the earth far below. He slipped his arm around Macbeth's throat, slowly throttling him. Macbeth gripped Castaway's hand, levering it off. The bike plummeted after the discarded hammer.

"You won't live this night, usurper!" Castaway laughed, astride from behind as he felt Macbeth pushing against him.

"Neither will ye!" Macbeth snarled. Beneath them the ground blew up, the hover-bike skimming the top of the trees. Neither individual could get a good hold of the controls. Castaway grunted as an elbow cracked into his torso. Even through his armor he felt the sheer force of Macbeth's blow. As he slipped off the bike, he grabbed desperately to Macbeth's leg.

"Ye've hung onto yer fool quest for long enough, Canmore! Give it up, and I'll land!"

"Never! If I'm to die, I'll take you with me, gargoyle loving bastard! I know who you are, Macbeth! Kiss your immortal life goodbye!"

Macbeth barely wrestled the bike out of its dive in time before they splattered into the wooded canopy. A maniacal laugh shot from Castaway. Glancing out of the corner of his eye Macbeth saw something in his other hand, aimed at the front of the hover-bike. A shot crackled, hitting the turbine.

"This is for Carlos!" he shouted. Sharply Macbeth kicked his hooded face, and Castaway let go with a groan. Seconds before the bike burst into flames he leapt into the treetops. Branches scraped at his face, and past his gloved hands as he relaxed his muscles. Branches snapped under him, and he half expected broken bones as he slid to the ground below.

Slowly he lifted his head, and rolled over. Still he was alive! How could it be that his back was not shattered with the force of his fall? Glancing up he saw a dark hooded shape slowly moving. It slipped to the ground in a boneless heap. How could Castaway have survived? Unless he had broken his impact in the branches somehow. All around him the woods stretched. It was not far to the manor, and possible safety.

Painfully he dragged himself on his gloved hands, feeling the blood trickling from scratches on his face. A sharp pain erupted in his spine, and Macbeth welcomed it. Perhaps paralyzed from the waist down, but little matter.

Castaway rolled over, dragging himself towards Macbeth. He ripped off his hood, revealing his bruised and battered face. He shuffled feebly on his hands and knees. Curse that battle armor! He saw a thin rope extending from Castaway's belt to the tree branches overhead. That's how he broke the shock of fall!

"I have you now..." Jon Castaway laughed, his hand clamping on Macbeth's armored leg. Still Macbeth could not feel his legs, for they seemed detached. Then an all too familiar sensation befell him. It seemed as if the bones were knitting back together! How was it possible? He was no longer under the Enchantment.... How?

Within seconds he could feel his legs, and Canmore's grip on them. Angrily he kicked back, flipping onto his back. Canmore fell across him, punching and kicking.

Easily Macbeth seized him, his fingers closing around Canmore's throat. "I've had enough, Hunter!" he snapped.

"I won't yield! Not till the last gargoyle is slain, and all who are heretical enough to betray humanity!"

"Save it," Macbeth snapped, and fumbled for his gun. He placed it to Canmore's head, finger poised on the trigger. "There's been enough terror..."

"Go ahead, Macbeth..." Canmore laughed. "I may fall, but there are a thousand others who would take up my cause! You'd actually be doing me a favor..."

"And make ye a martyr?" Macbeth asked, with a sad laugh. He pulled the gun away, hand receding.

"What's this, a moment of compassion?" Castaway laughed. Suddenly something cracked against his skull, and reality faded to black.

"Yes, God help me," Macbeth let his body fall to the grassy ground. Slowly he reached at his belt, extracting a cellular phone. Keys depressed a number.

"Hello, Police? I've caught an intruder on my private property," Macbeth choked. "This is Lennox MacDuff..."

A large purple goose egg swelled into existence on Canmore's scalp. Sadly Macbeth hoisted the body to his shoulders, carrying it towards his house.

The sound of footsteps alerted Rayna from her crying. Lifting her head from Eric's shoulder she glanced about, seeing a host of strange shapes closing in. Red eyes glared, flaring in the breeze.

"Please, you must try to fly!" Eric told her. She limped, gasping as he helped her along.

"You can run, but you can't hide," came Demona's voice.

"Leave me," Rayna snarled, pushing Eric safely aside.

"I will forgive that little outburst, but once," Demona rested hands on her hips. "It was cruel of you to leave so abruptly. Do you forget who released you?"

"Released?" Rayna laughed, raising her claws to the approaching figure.

"Leave us alone!" Eric snapped, and tossed a dagger toward her. It flickered feebly over Demona's head, as she dodged out of the way. His power was so drained it was all he could muster. In vain he tried to summon his mystical armor, but energy crackled feebly into nothingness.

"Don't make me laugh, child! Your magic is faulty at best…"

A red beam slammed into Eric, and he crumpled. Rayna leapt to his aid two minutes too late. "No! He's only a child!"

Demona's gun leveled on her. "I do hate to do this, but you will come now. You are not thinking clearly... and I want only to help. Don't make this any more difficult then it has to be..."

"What have you done to Josh, you… you…" Eric looked up, as Rayna froze into place.

"A simple spell separates me from the soul finder," she laughed. "He will not find you here, for he was rather busy when last we left him…"

"Demonaaaa!" came Eric's cry.

"What?" she gasped, her fangs bared as the vulture swooped down on her from above. "How did you get away?"

She rolled over with the force of his blow, gun blazing as she kicked him away. A red gargoyle cannoned into her, knocking her flat. Joshua blade's staff cracked into Demona, knocking her down. She fired, slamming into Brooklyn.

Goliath stood, placing himself between Rayna and Demona. Suddenly two figures landed, Burbank and Malibu of the clones. Their rifles trained on the tense group, but Joshua and Brooklyn faced off against the new threat, blocking them from the former second in command and her once mate.

"I had a little help!" Josh snapped, landing near Eric Spellburg.

"You will not threaten another gargoyle," Goliath snarled. "Is this how you treat your own Clan? With threats?"

"She is not my clan," Rayna spat, leaping up.

"Oh but she is. And I take responsibility, unlike you, Goliath!" Demona spat, leveling her gun.

"This is my affair!"

Both combatants circled, bracketing a space of ten paces. Goliath roared low in his throat. Rayna slowly mirrored Demona's moves, freezing in place. Red light blazed from Demona's gun. Goliath rolled out of the way, pouncing upwards. Red beams singed past his wing membranes. As he stood, Burbank and Malibu closed in, beaten back by the combined efforts of Joshua Blade and Brooklyn.

Josh's staff whirled wildly, deflecting each blast. Brooklyn leapt nimbly, somersaulting against Burbank, who almost dropped his gun. Snarling, Burbank slammed his gun like a club against Brooklyn's flank. Eric Spellburg slowly shook his head, raising his hand to fire a magical bolt at Burbank.

"See your enemies falling?" Josh laughed to Malibu. Yet the clone's face wrinkled into an evil leer.

"Josh… behind you!" shouted Brooklyn. Josh barely managed to leap out of the way of Pasadena and Brentwood, who swooped down in a surprise dive. Now it was four against three, one who was hurting still from Demona's laser assault. Brooklyn hurled Burbank aside, leaping on Pasadena. Goliath turned to swat Brentwood from attacking Josh from behind.

Seeing her chance, Rayna pounced on Demona, knocking the gun aside with her elbow. Her claws closed on the weapon, wrenching it away. She cuffed Demona aside, aiming the gun at her jaw.

"Everyone! Stop this now!" Rayna shouted, and the fighters stopped cold, as if sunrise had claimed them.

"Go ahead. Pull the trigger, if that's what you want..." Demona shrugged. The clones eyed their mistress anxiously.

"No. Give the order to stop this attack."

"I don't think you have the nerve..." Demona laughed. "You know you can't. Are you Gargoyle enough to do it?"

"Not a gargoyle like you," Rayna snapped, the gun cracking into Demona's head, knocking her senseless. Just then Hudson landed, slamming into Burbank and Malibu with the force of a jackhammer.

"Come on ye Sassenachs..." Hudson pulled his blade, eyes blaring. Josh laughed, whacking at Pasadena with a quick crack. Eric and Brooklyn leapt upon Brentwood.

Goliath turned to Rayna, who stood over Demona's crumpled form. Thailog landed with a roar, his feet contacting Goliath's chest. Over and over the twins rolled, neither one ganging the upper hand.

"Stop it or she goes..." Rayna said. "Or do you care nothing for her?" she asked. Brooklyn saw Rayna's claw around Demona's senseless form. Or so she thought.

Everything stopped once again as Goliath and Thailog looked up. "Go ahead and kill her. I'd like to see you try..."

Rayna hurled Demona at Thailog. He crumpled under her impact. Goliath shook himself off, standing. Hudson, Joshua, Eric and Brooklyn snatched away the Clone's guns.

"You... win this round," Thailog snarled, scooping up Demona as he climbed painfully to his feet. Cradling her in his arms, he backed away. "But I will have you, in the end. You and all your females, Goliath..."

"Don't hold your breath, freak," Brooklyn snarled, helping Rayna to stand.

"Not today, Thailog," Goliath roared, his eyes flaring at the receding shadows.

"I swear you will pay for this, Demona!" Eric shouted at her, shaking his fist at the retreating specs. Josh nodded grimly, and gripped his friend's shoulder.

The rest of the night faded into a blur. Rayna next remembered the stone once again cracking from around her form. A chorus of roars resounded in her gargoyle ears, echoing her own. Stone dust blew in the evening wind. Beside her, Angela stretched, smiling at her. Delilah shook herself down.

On her other side, Brooklyn flexed his slender wings, leaping down from the wall. Hudson burst apart, freeing himself from his stone skin. He glanced about sheepishly, as Broadway's glance fell on him.

From above, Goliath's hair flowed like a banner in the breeze. He looked down on his Clan, and allowed a small smile. Brooklyn extended a claw to help Rayna down from the battlement she had spent the day upon.

"Don't look down," he laughed as she steadied herself against him.

"Oh Matrix my head is pounding fit to burst…"

"They call that a hangover," Brooklyn explained, suppressing a grin. "The one thing a stone nap doesn't cure completely…"

Goliath landed from above, his wings flared to their full span. Impressively he strode towards them. Hudson petted Bronx, still not able to look Rayna in the eye. Lexington's claws pressed into Rayna's, as Delilah's claw brushed her brow ridge.

"My Clan, I greet this night with joy. And sadness..." he said.

"Rayna... come here... please..."

"Go on," Angela urged her.

Rayna strode, slipping her claw out of Lex and Brooklyn's. "Goliath," she said, kneeling on one turquoise knee.

"Rise. Look me in the face," he said, grasping her arm lightly. There was a frown present as he continued. "Last night was quite an ordeal. Many ugly truths surfaced. Prejudices. Human and Gargoyle. Alien... and human. But Demona..."

"I'm sor..." she began before Goliath's talon lay on her lips.

"No. Don't be. I should be the one to apologize. You required our help. Whether or not you are Rayna remains to be proven. But what matters is you are a Gargoyle. And in your time of need this clan neglected to welcome you and offer refuge..."

"Understandable..." she said, looking him in the eyes. "But I wish it didn't take two weeks to find me..."

Goliath's look darkened, and then lightened when Rayna's lips twitched into a smile. "Welcome to the Clan Rayna. If you wish to stay, there is a place for you here. It is your decision..."

"Well, I guess I'll give it a whirl. I think I prefer you to the alternative," she sighed. "But I will yet prove to you that I am Rayna... even if some people refuse to acknowledge it..."

"Well, aren't you going to say something?" Brooklyn nudged Hudson.

Already everyone moved to greet her. She was knocked over by Bronx, hugged and pinched by the males.

Sighing, Hudson walked past, and gruffly said, "Welcome Lass. May yer stay be... pleasant..."

Quickly he glanced away, sinking into parts unknown as he found the comforts of the television room.

"You'll love it here," Broadway laughed.

"Oh great here we go," Lexington rolled his eyes. "Not with that kitchen library speech again..."

"Chill guys," Brooklyn laughed. "Wanna come on patrol?"

"I still think I need work on my flying... er gliding..." she said. "But no thanks. I'd rather... look around..."

"Sure..." Brooklyn nodded, as her claw slipped out of his. Lex rolled his eyes and groaned. Delilah and Angela strode off, towards various places in the castle. Rayna glanced as if in a daze. Slowly she cast a glance back in the direction of Nightstone industries, before staring into the vault of night.

"Looks like I'll be stuck here a while," she sighed. "Matrix, this isn't what I had in mind..."

Hudson settled into the lazy-boy recliner, leaning backwards. Bronx pushed his muzzle into his lab, whining.

"Go way boy," he muttered. "Got nae use fer company now..."

Again Bronx pestered him, till Hudson sighed, letting Bronx rest his head under his elbow. He clicked on the remote with one taloned thumb. Nae use fer company, he laughed ironically. What was wrong with him? A lovely ravishing gargoyle female in the clan, who claimed to be her, whom was lost. But was this a weird dream? What was the hesitation? Hudson couldn't understand, nor did he care to. Such questions were too uncomfortable to contemplate.

Tentatively Rayna tiptoed, her face peering round the doorframe. A fall of white hair over the top of the recliner between two pointed brown ears blocked her view of the television. The sounds of the flickering images were a bit painful to her ears. How could Hudson stand it so damned loud?

"Celebrity hockey?" she asked, standing by his shoulder.

"Nae, tis canceled," came his voice. He didn't look up at her, but kept his eyes glued to the screen.

"What a shame," she said, slipping her hand into the bowl of popcorn. Her talons extracted a mouthful that she struggled to practice manipulating in three fingered hands. "Matrix curse it," she grumbled as the popcorn handful dissolved into separate pieces. Bronx chewed down on the offering left on the floor.

"How in blazes do you do it?" she asked Hudson's back. "This is not as easy as it would seem..."

"Tis more t' being gargoyle then ye thought, eh lass?" came his reply.

She couldn't tell from his voice what was on his mind. A mixed scent wafted into her nostrils, musky and heady as it made her wings ache. That made no sense!

"No kidding," she said dryly, striding up beside him till she got a good view of the side of his face. Still he did not look in her direction. "Any other wisdom you care to impart, oh wise one?"

"Tis disrespectful t' speak in such a manner to yer elders," he said.

"Don't give me that garbage, Hudson," she snapped. "I'm seven hundred years old, and you damn well know it!"

"Wuild that be by the reckoning of what ye once were, or what ye are nau?" he asked, glaring up at her. "Fer as I see it yer' nae longer that age, but a lass... of fifty summers..."

"Whatever you say, Mentor," she whirled, her tail lashing out by accident. She felt it contact his leg, a sickening crack as it landed. Hudson jerked at the stinging lash of her tail.

"Oh... I'm sorry," she turned, as he winced, nursing his leg.

"Whist ye, that fair smarted!" he growled.

"You're the wise one, how the hell do I control a blasted tail? I'm not exactly used to being a gargoyle! It does take a while. And I may be fifty or whatever, but pardon me if I don't..."

"Och, yer fair in a temper, aren't ye, lassie?" he said, glancing up at her.

"Can you blame me?" she asked, glaring at him as her eyes flared crimson. Her response came as a low snarl. As her tail twitched she grabbed it in her claws, struggling to stop it from thrashing Hudson again.

Suddenly his eyes were on her. Granted he could only see out of one. "Wait a minute," she said.

"You... said... that by the reckoning of what I once was..." she added the statements mentally. "You... believe... me. You... rotten sneak..."

"Aye," he said, glancing up at her matter-of-fact.

"So why the cold shoulder..."

Hudson rubbed his wings, puzzled. "No, I mean, why the rejection. Unless it's some warrior's pride you're nursing. You didn't want to admit you were wrong did you?"

"Is there anything ye don't know?" he growled, an odd scent wafting her nostrils again. Much like that from Brooklyn! Hudson stabbed the up button, landing on the science fiction channel. High pitched beating of a weird instrument made Bronx howl. "You have entered a dimension of sight and sound..."

"What be this..."

"The twilight zone," Rayna turned her head. "Classic science fiction. I do so love comedy..."

"I niver bothered t' see," he muttered, settling down in his chair. "Care t' explain what it's aboot..."

She leaned against the chair arm, her caped wings lightly brushing his. He glued his eyes to the tube, muttering in confusion. Something brushed against her leg, and she wondered if it was Bronx. But he was snuffling the rest of the popcorn up at this point. Her tail suddenly twitched spasmodically, knocking her off balance. Hudson's hand gripped her, as she was about to pitch forwards. Her eyes fixed firmly into his face, her pulse quickening.

"Matrix," she breathed as he glanced up at her.

"Best watch that nau, lest ye cause an accident..."

"Any... suggestions?" she asked, wondering at the single heartbeat that slammed against her breastbone. She balanced on the chair arm, Hudson's claw still latched around her wrist firmly. Her tail twitched again, slamming against the floor. Something slipped against it, twining around her own tail as it was arrested. Rayna drew in her breath again, her talons running through his white hair. For the longest time their gaze met, nothing but a sadness in her eyes as understanding came in his.

"I suppose, that you preferred me as a humanoid. I cannot expect the same level of intimacy... as before. But I must admit I missed your proximity. And it hurt to have you see me as a stranger..."

"There is another reason, ye should know," Hudson said, gently and firmly pulling her off the chair arm. "Sit down lass…"

Rayna wriggled for a moment, resting across his knees as her tail threatened to lash again, if his did not entwine around it. "Tis a frightening thing," he stroked her hair gently. "But know that ye are not alone..."

"From the way you were acting I was beginning to wonder," she pouted, trying to wrench her tail free. "You and your stupid macho pride. Honestly, are all gargoyle males so stubborn?"

"Depends upon what ye mean, lass," he said with a laugh in his voice. No distance present in that expression, merely an amusement and a gist of that mischievous twinkle.

"Mm, this is not fair! Do you or do you not?" she blurted out, confusion at his earlier rejection, and sudden acceptance. Rayna pushed him away with a talon against his battle harness.

Warmth shot into her as his claw lightly traced up the odd spur on her elbow. Uncapeing his wings he pulled her down to rest her head on his chest, lightly stroking fingers through her hair. That smell flooded her more then ever, and she felt odd confusion set in. His tail slid against hers, lightly stroking. Rayna jolted her muscles limp. Automatically her claw traced along his extended wing strut, eliciting a low growl of pleasure that vibrated from him to her.

"Tis been a long time since I had such feelings, for one other then my own mate. And I'm thinking I've been downright daft fer pushing ye away. When what I'm missing is she. Her smile, her laugh, and the scent of her hair. And I owe ye... an.... apology fer my goings on…."

"You mean… that's why you pushed me away," Rayna realized. "Because now that I'm a gargoyle… you're afraid to get close to anyone else. But because I was a human… the lines were drawn."

Hudson nodded reluctantly. "I am sorry, Rayna. T' have hurt ye when ye needed me the most."

"I thought you didn't want me anymore," she said. "And the thought of that suddenly seems more uncomfortable then I would like to face."

"Hush lass," he whispered, tenderly stroking her wing struts. "I'm an old fool who doesnae always see a guid thing till it is almost gone. Ye must forgive the stubborn pride of an old warrior..."

"Not that old," she laughed, pushing away the awkwardness. Matrix this was so good compared to that odd crawling feeling she got when Thailog lay claws on her. Or Demona. A low growl escaped her throat, much to her embarrassment, and she wondered at the hot blood flushing her face. She seemed hot, so hot... burning up under his wings as they folded comfortably around her. Slowly she reached around, slipping her hands down his back as he lifted her arm around his neck, giving her access to his back. It was rather awkward, sitting there at his mercy with her tail writhing in his and her wings caught under his arms that crushed her to him.

He pulled her head to his, brushing brow ridges in a light caress. Her nerve endings tingled with the strange stimulation. How odd, but how comforting in a way. She worked her fingers down between his hip and the chair. Finding the length of his tail she slowly worked her talons around it, massaging. A low gasp of pleasure shuddered him, as he gently kneaded her tail as well. Rayna choked back a short cry. Then, she shifted in his lap, twisting her torso so she could look at him square in the face. She lowering her lips to his as her nose brushed his. The feel his hot breath in her mouth was a welcome relief at the memory of that blood taste in hers. He tasted of that blasted Killian's red, and buttered popcorn, two very modern foods that seemed anachronistic.

Foreheads caressed, and lips merged for a full five minutes as she rested there on his lap. Hudson's wings wrapped her close, sharing the odd warmth between them. Her tail slipped against his, gently struggling to mimic the movements that he imparted. Everything seemed to be happening at once, the blood pounding in her ears.

"Oh," she groaned, breaking off the kiss. "This is... ah... ah... fascinating..."

"Tis hard t' resist, is it not?" he smirked. She kissed the expression off his face, determined to have something in this new body that she could master. Hudson's witty reply gurgled into his throat as her tongue moved in gentle strokes that defied the delicious things he was doing with his tail. She half-worried she'd bite his tongue with her fangs that gently clamped down. Beneath her he lay limp and relaxed, drinking in the sensations that must be flooding him. Hudson's scent wrapped her in all its stone muskiness, almost like wet concrete.

Past her hair he glimpsed at the television, an episode of Farscape clicking on. Airen and Crichton were locked in a steamy embrace, ripping their clothes off. Hudson desperately reached for the remote, probing with one taloned foot. This was rather... weird, to have a show about an alien and a human going at the same time that he and Rayna were.

From the partly opened door, a silver haired figure watched them cuddled there. No further did they go save Rayna cuddling into Hudson's lap on the recliner, Hudson snuggling comfortably under her as they watched the rest of Farscape together. It was enough to enjoy the simple closeness of another person who cared only her comfort.

"Be happy Rayna," Macbeth whispered to himself. "I pray ye are..."

The immortal king allowed himself a small smile, closing the door discretely on the couple. He could hope that she had found some measure of peace in all this uproar. For all he could hope for his centuries old friend was her own happiness.

Macbeth wandered into the sitting room where Alex played quietly with Mute, the silver skinned gargoyle. Joshua Blade and Eric Spellburg spoke with the trickster, who was orbiting the room with his usual panache.

"My, my, my," Puck laughed at Eric Spellburg, who stood near Titania's mirror. Macbeth had brought it from his hovercraft to the castle, unsure of just how to dispose of it. There were enough magical items around his home already without needing another one to worry about.

"You had quite an adventure, didn't you?"

"Can't you change her back?" Eric asked Puck. "I mean, you're better at magic. You're Puck, for crying out loud..."

"My powers are not to be used in such a way," Puck wagged a finger in his face. "Unless you want big Daddy Oberon on my case again..."

"Which brings us to the question, does she want to be changed back?" Macbeth asked, folding arms across his chest.

"Ah, well, if it isn't the once and Future king," laughed Puck, circling around Macbeth with a laugh. "Found a bone of compassion in that centuries-old body did you?"

Macbeth ignored him, and strode over to Eric, who asked, "What do you mean? I swore I would fix my mistakes..."

"And a royal one it was, sonny," Puck folded his arms, floating just near the half elf's head.

"Hey, it wasn't his fault that Demona..." Josh snapped.

"Temper, temper, shadow boy," Puck tisked. "Could get you into trouble..."

"Can't you do what... happens to Dominique?" asked Eric. "I mean... she turns to human during the day..."

"I can only do so if I'm teaching little Alex... that's the deal, sonny boy..."

"Well, you could teach him how," Josh pointed out.

"I could... but that begs the question, so deftly pointed out by Macbeth here. Does she want it."

"Why wouldn't she?"

"It would seem the lass has only just adjusted to being a gargoyle," Macbeth said. "And such transformations are stressful. Hasn't she been through enough without other people deciding who and what she should be?"

"I didn't think of that," Eric muttered.

"Exactamundo," Puck tweaked his nose playfully.

"But I want to make it up to her," Eric said.

"And you will, believe me," Puck said. "I could be persuaded... to teach Alex the spell, and you... perhaps..."

"That would be cool!" Eric nodded eagerly.

"But we live in San Francisco... which reminds me, the others will kill us if we don't get back..."

"Can't we just go back through the mirror?" asked Eric.

"Hmm, yes," Puck nodded. "And I might be able to kill two birds with one stone."

"What do ye have in mind?" Macbeth asked, a bit suspicious.

"Why the long look, your highness?" Puck shook his head. "You got what you wanted out of this romp, didn't you?"

"I suppose I did," Macbeth nodded slowly.

"Enough chit chat, let's be off, shall we?" Puck laughed. "Now listen up! Repeat after me, Eric my boy. Heros who would their questing end, through the silver mirror homeward wend. Let them quick as shadows fly, to their friend's side by and by!"

Eric chanted, his eyes flaring silver. At the last minute Josh caught his arm, the mirror sweeping both into its silvery embrace. "Goodbye, Mr. Macbeth!" Josh called. "Thanks!"

"I thank ye lads as well! Godspeed!" Macbeth waved nonchalantly. He watched the nimbus fade within, having seen the lads pass through. Puck nodded in self satisfaction as Alex gleefully clapped at the display.

"A live one that boy," Puck nodded. "They've got their hands full with that one. And now, anything I can do for you? A conference with the Weird sisters perhaps?"

"Nay, jest an answer. I thought I had been released from their enchantment..."

"My dear king that may well be, but you don't think that you can be under Avalon's magic for a millennium and just expect to walk away from its affects, do you?" Puck laughed. "After all, it was their intent that you and Demona do each other in, and the fact that you've stayed alive for so long... well let's just say you've broken Avalon's world record for the longest to live under that curse!"

"What?"

"In a few words, you're not the same man you were ten centuries ago, kingey," Puck laughed, swirling around him. "The constant exposure to the enchantment's rubbed off on you. Even though the spell has transferred to another... well... let's just say you've gotten a lasting dose!"

"Am I still immortal?" Macbeth asked him. "I must know! For when I fell from the trees I could swear I had broken my back, but the injury healed within seconds. If I was released from my bond with Demona, I should have reverted to normal..."

"Like I'd tell you," Puck laughed. "For the answer to that question, you'll have to ask them yourself!"

Macbeth snorted, turning to leave the room as Puck turned his attention to Alexander. Ancient feuds had come to pass, and the present had been shattered in just a few weeks. What would the future hold for him? Endless centuries of existence alone? He cared not to contemplate. For all that he could think of was the now. A wrong had been avenged, without the loss of life. A friend had found the warmth of acceptance that few could boast, even if it did come at a cost. One less fanatic could grip the minds of his puppets to bend their realities to his whim.

"A good day indeed," he sighed, striding out of Castle Wyvern into the light of sherbert bands overhead. He could glimpse the gargoyles assembling on the parapet, Rayna being led by the talon by Hudson into position. Climbing up to take her place with the Clan. Slowly petrifying under the kiss of the rising sun. Its warm fell across his face as it had for a million mornings such. He glimpsed Rayna's frozen countenance there, and couldn't help but wonder if perhaps she would finally find a normal life.

"If there is such a thing for people such as us," Macbeth wondered.

Fin