Disclaimer: I don’t own Gargoyles. Only the white stone belongs to me. This story takes place during “The Goliath Chronicles.”
Chapter One- The Stone
Macbeth carefully navigated his way to the chamber in the center of the ancient temple in a South American jungle. He had heard stories, as well as read about, of a stone that could grant one wish to anyone who could reach it. His intention was to wish for his eternal link to Demona to be gone so that he could age and die. I’ll be able to live out my life and die in peace. I doubt Demona will be happy when she eventually starts to age, but I cannot ask her for her opinion since she’ll try to kill me the moment she sees me.
He smirked to himself. For someone who wants to live, she makes the poor decision to attack the one person who ties her to life. He entered a chamber with three different tunnels. The people who built the temple wouldn’t make the left or center tunnels lead to the stone. They certainly set plenty of booby traps on the way to this chamber. In that case, I’ll take the right tunnel.
He did so and as he walked, he noticed the tunnel curving to the left-toward the center! He had made the correct choice! He would soon be mortal again! He quickened his pace; there were no concerns of more traps since the ones he spotted and avoided were more than sufficient to keep the stone safe. He saw an opening at the end and went through it to see a large and beautiful room. An equally large and beautiful white stone sat on a pedestal in the center.
He approached it and put one hand on it. If he remembered correctly, he must speak the incantation and concentrate on his wish. He closed his eyes and began chanting in Spanish while trying to frame his wish. For some reason, images of Demona in her human form and her gargoyle form flashed through his mind. He was even thinking of the time he saw her change from human to gargoyle.
The stone began to glow and the glow spread to his hand and then his entire body. He removed his hand and the glow faded from both the stone and himself. He looked at the stone and then his hand. Did it work? I don’t know if it did, but something happened. Either way, my one wish has been used. I’ll return to Manhattan, try to kill myself, and try to find another way to break the link if I die and revive. Macbeth left the chamber and headed for the main tunnel. There were some rather nasty traps to kill thieves and he intended to deliberately set one off to see if he would really die. He skirted around certain traps until he came upon the classic poison dart trap. He avoided the trap until he was in front of it. He took one step forward to trigger the first dart. A small feathered wooden dart shot out of it hidden spot and struck him right in the heart. The poison immediately took effect and Macbeth felt the world spin around him as he slumped to the floor. His vision went black and he heard his heart beat and stop: Macbeth died right there in the corridor.
His heart beating again was the first sound Macbeth heard. The sound of his breath was the next one. He opened his eyes and as he sat up, he removed the dart from his chest. He survived a lethal dark attack and it served to tell him that his wish didn’t work. He was still immortal and linked to Demona. It seems I will be scouring my books when I return home. Macbeth exited the temple and used his remote control to bring his air ship down so that he could board it and return home.
&&&&
The sun was still high when Macbeth returned to his castle. He descended and exited the ship before heading for the library and to a table covered with old scrolls and books on magical objects. He sat down and resumed looking through the book that told him about the stone. He searched through the afternoon, stopping to prepare some dinner and watch the sunset. He ate lightly and then sat in his favorite armchair to watch the sun set out a nearby window. This was his favorite time of day, even after he found out that he had married his enemy. I should return to Paris so that I can file for a divorce. I think I’ll go pack now. He stood up as the sun dipped below the horizon.
A bolt of pain ran through his body. He stopped where he was and doubled over as a stabbing was felt in his stomach. He groaned in pain and then screamed when a fiery pain raced along his spine. His legs were also aflame with agony. He furthermore heard cloth tearing despite the pain. The pain ended and he took deep breaths until he was breathing normally. As he breathed, he felt a weight on his shoulders rising and falling in time with his breaths. He looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened.
He had wings! A pair of leathery bat-like wings protruded from his back. No, not bat wings-gargoyle wings! He raised a hand to see if they were real, but stopped when he saw a light brown four-fingered gargoyle hand. He lowered the hand and his gaze.
He was a gargoyle! He stood on a pair of light brown talon feet that had torn open his boots and the lower part of his pants had torn due to his heels being off the ground as well as larger leg muscles. He could see that the end of his…tail ended in a club. He used his hands to feel his face and head. Hmm, no horns and my mouth is still on my face indicating that I have no beak. His claws brushed over a pointed ear as he pondered over how this happened.
Wait! The stone! I had been thinking about Demona when I had been chanting. The spell and stone somehow read my mind and thought I was wishing to be a gargoyle at night. He cursed Demona and himself. If he hadn’t fallen for her human form, he wouldn’t have been thinking about her when he chanted the spell. Is there a way to reverse this? Surely the people who owned the stone had a way to reverse a wish gone wrong. He stumbled out of the room, unused to walking on the balls of his feet.
He made it to the table in the library and turned back to the page about the stone. He read it over carefully and concluded that the only way was for someone else to wish him back to being fully human using the same stone. That means I have to find someone who knows about me and gargoyles and ask for their help. Fortunately, I know just whom I can ask for help.
Chapter Two- Assistance
Macbeth went to bed, managing to find a comfortable positon, despite his wings and tail. He slept soundly until sunrise when the pain of his transformation began. He exhaled once it had past. I need to be cured. I can’t believe Demona puts up with this kind of pain every day and night.
He got up and pulled on clothes that would be able to stretch during his changes; he added holes for his tail and put on a long trench coat to cover the cuts in his shirt and pants. He added the tape of his changes as well as the book with information of the stone to a briefcase before boarding his airship and flying to the Eyrie Building.
He set his ship to hover over the castle before dropping a ladder and climbing down. He knew his approach and arrival at the castle had already alerted Xanatos and sure enough, once he touched ground, Xanatos and his aide, Owen were already there to meet him. He nodded to the CEO. “Xanatos,” he said neutrally.
“Macbeth,” was the equally neutral response. “What can I do for you?”
“I need your assistance with a recent problem. If we could discuss this in your office.”
“Of course. This way,” Xanatos and Owen left the courtyard and Macbeth spared a glance at the gargoyles who were in stone sleep before following the two men inside. In the brief moment the he looked at the clan, he felt a type of connection that he could only chalk up to the gargoyle side of him that was currently inside him. Hopefully, that side will be gone soon enough; not that I hold a grudge against gargoyles. Just Demona.
“Now, what is the problem?” Xanatos asked once seated in his office.
“I had been researching for a way to break my link with Demona so that I can finally age and die,” Macbeth began placing his case on the desk, opened it, extracted the book, and opened it to the right page before placing it in front of Xanatos. “I read about this, hidden in a South American jungle.”
Xanatos leaned forward and read the entry. He raised an eyebrow and softly said, “Fascinating. Any wish, hmm? Yes, I see.”
“I went to it and chanted the spell you see there, but instead of phrasing my intention, for some reason I thought of Demona in both her forms.” He held up the tape. “The end result is on this tape.” He handed it to Owen who put it in the player. All three watched as Macbeth from the previous night transformed into a gargoyle. Macbeth remembered the pain and because of it, he didn’t see the change…until now. His change happened the same way as Demona’s did that night in Paris. Of course, it did. That event was going through my mind while chanting.
The tape ended and Xanatos leaned back in his chair. “That’s quite the predicament. What do you propose?”
“I need someone to accompany me back to the stone and wish for me to be fully human again.”
“Hmm, yes. That makes sense. Very well. Owen and I will both go with you.”
“I thank you.”
&&&&
Macbeth kept an eye on the sky as he piloted his ship to the site of the temple. He wanted to be able to set the autopilot before the sun fully set. He estimated that it would be night by the time they arrived. He wondered if Xanatos had an ulterior motive and decided that he most likely did. He knew that Xanatos sought immortality and the stone would certainly grant it. As long as I become all human again, it is not my concern what Xanatos does.
He started breathing hard a few hours later as the sun vanished. He saw his hands change color and his middle fingers fusing together. The rest of his skin changed color as his body changed from his feet and up to his head. He let out a roar and stretched his wings as the change ended. He folded his wings before returning to the pilot’s seat. It still hurt changing, but he was trying to master the pain in order to lessen it. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it; after all in about an hour or two, he would be human day and night.
He was leading Xanatos and Owen through the temple one hour later. He warned them to follow in his footsteps exactly, lest they end up triggering a trap. As they proceeded, he figured that Owen would use his wish on him while Xanatos would use his wish on himself. Again, he didn’t care what Xanatos did, he just wanted his wish reversed. He came to the three tunnels and automatically went to the right. He was aware of his talons clicking on the stone floor as opposed to the soft thumps of the shoes behind him. He again wondered why he was aware of things like that. Perhaps, I’m aware so that I can remember them after I’m cured.
They reached the end of the tunnel and Macbeth strode toward the pedestal before coming to a halt. The pedestal was empty! The stone was gone!
“No,” he whispered. Then, he screamed, “NO!” His cry echoed in the chamber and down the tunnel. He didn’t cry, but he was numb with shock. He was stuck as he was; he would be a gargoyle at night forever. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked back to see Xanatos.
“I’m sorry,” he simply said.
“I appreciate that. Let’s go.” The trio left the chamber and the temple before climbing into the ship and heading for Manhattan.
Chapter Three- Resurrected Hope
Macbeth couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that two weeks ago he was defending the gargoyles on TV and now he was a gargoyle. It’s not bad being a gargoyle, he reasoned. I have nothing against them. It’s Demona I have a grudge against. Speaking of her, I still have a divorce to file.
Macbeth spent his day hours among the people of Manhattan and planning his business trip to Paris. However, night was another matter. He continued trying to master the pain, recalling how he felt when Demon changed in front of him; the stabbing that hit him in the stomach. I wonder if it’s truly Puck’s gift that causes the pain or if it’s her hatred of humanity.
Once the pain had past, Macbeth would explore what he could do. He would see how high he could jump, how strong he was, how to climb and, of course, how to glide. A person with a hate toward the gargoyles would refuse to learn any of this, but Macbeth was not one of those people. He appreciated his abilities and was even amazed at how much he could lift and how high he could jump.
He flew his ship to Paris two weeks after the stone vanished and set out filing divorce papers. He cited lifestyle differences and constant fighting as reasons for the separation, which were certain true enough. He further made it clear that the papers were to be delivered to Dominique for him. He provided the address of her company in New York before returning to his chateau before nightfall. He stayed in Paris for a little over two weeks until he was sure his request was confirmed and that the papers were on their way to his soon-to-be ex-wife. He boarded his ship and flew back to Manhattan.
It was nighttime when he landed and as he exited, he glanced up to see the shadow of a gargoyle. I wonder who that is; doesn’t look like Demona. He climbed up one of his towers before gliding toward the figure, who had turned to meet him, hovering in mid-air. He drew closer and when he saw who it was, stopped to hover and he gave a small smile. “Hello, Angela. This is a surprise.”
“Hi. Xanatos told the clan what happened to you and that the stone was stolen.”
“Aye, but it’s fine. I’m adjusting and I admit, it’s nice to be in the sky without an airship.”
“Speaking of which, I saw it land earlier. Where have you been all this time? I came by every night to talk to you.”
“I was in Paris, filing divorce papers. Since Demona doesn’t appeared bothered to file one herself, I figured I would.”
“Does she know?”
“She will when she’s served with the papers. I suspect she’ll sign off on them before returning them to Paris and that will be that. So, you came to talk?”
Angela nodded. “I thought you would like someone to talk to about how you’re adjusting.”
“Like I said, I’m adjusting just fine. It was a shock when it first happened, but now it seems…normal.”
“Does…does it hurt?”
“Aye. I’ve been working on mastering the pain in order to lessen it. It’s working; it doesn’t hurt as much as it did at first.”
“That’s good and it seems you’ve learned a lot especially with gliding and hovering.” She gestured at the air between them.
“I have.”
“Well, I better head home. You’re welcome to visit anytime.”
“Thank you. You and the clan are welcome to visit me as well.” He watched Angela glide away before landing himself and going inside to get some food and after that, get some sleep.
The next morning, he made breakfast and retrieved the paper. He settled down at the table, sipped some coffee, and opened the paper. He gasped and put his cup down: There was a picture of the stone! His eyes moved to the article attached to it and read that shortly after he left the area, archaeologists had found the stone and brought it to a museum who had just opened its exhibit. The shocking part was it was The Museum of Natural History in Manhattan!
I’ve accepted that I’ll be a gargoyle at night, but now the stone has resurfaced and my chance to be human again has returned. He went to the phone, called Xanatos’ office number, and told him about the newspaper article.
“I appreciate the information. I’ll see what I can do about borrowing it for a brief time for…study purposes.”
“I hope you’re successful. Let me know whether or not you got it.”
“Understood. Good day.”
“Good day, Mr. Xanatos.”
&&&&
Demona shuffled through some paperwork, grumbling inwardly. Why do humans have to have so much paperwork to run a business? she thought. She signed off for her employees’ paychecks before putting it in her outbox and grabbing an unopened manila envelope from her inbox. She looked at the return address: It was from Paris. Curious, she opened it and pulled out a sheaf of papers out, looking at the top of the first page.
Divorce papers? Why…oh, yes. I got married to Macbeth in Paris. So, he’s filed for divorce. Well, I no longer wish to be his wife and he has not asked for anything from me, so I will sign the papers and send them back to Paris. Demona smirked as she picked up her pen and signed the papers before sealing them in a new manila envelope, addressing it, stamping it, and putting it in her outbox. That done, she picked up the morning paper, resolving to return to her paperwork afterwards. She needed a little break from it. Her eyes landed on the article about the stone and they widened at what she read.
“A stone that can grant anyone one wish? All one has to do is speak the incantation and concentrate on their desire? Hmm, if I had that stone, I could succeed in destroying the human race.” She put the paper down and started drawing up plans to acquire the stone- by having someone steal it, of course. She had another chance to destroy humanity and she was not going to let it slip by. It’ll take a little time to find the right people and pay them; a little in advance, the rest upon completion. But, it will be worth it considering what I’ll have in the end. The silly article included the incantation and claimed the stone’s abilities are just a legend and myth. Foolish humans; its abilities are quite real. I can tell just looking at the picture.
&&&&
Macbeth rose to his feet as his change ended. He had lessened the pain some more, but it had forced him to his knees as it has always done. He had dwelled on the pain and was coming to some interesting conclusions. If Demona’s pain did come from Puck’s gift, then where did his come from? He thought that perhaps his thoughts of Demona’s changes is what caused him to experience pain with his change. But, by trying to control it, he was feeling less pain. If I keep focusing on lessening it, then I’ll be able to change without pain. There is another possibility for the pain and it could be anger at myself for focusing on Demona and not the link. If I can let go of my anger, perhaps the pain will end as well.
The phone range and Macbeth picked it up. “Hello?”
“Ah. Macbeth. Good news. I’ll have possession of the stone in a couple of days.”
“Wonderful. Call again when you’re ready for me to arrive.”
“I’ll do that. Good night.”
“Good night.” Macbeth hung up and he smiled. In one, maybe two days, his wish would be reversed and he could go back to finding a way to be mortal again.
Chapter Four- Self-Sacrifice
Macbeth stayed home over the next day and night before deciding to go out for a glide the following evening. He wanted to enjoy having wings what with his chance to be human again looming before him. He wandered far from his home, enjoying the sights of the city greatly. He felt a sense of joy inside him. He probed this sense and realized that it came from the fact that he had enjoyed being a gargoyle now that full humanity was close at hand.
He glided over to the Natural History Museum, which was now closed, and hovered over it, thinking about how by morning, Xanatos will have the stone. He believed Xanatos may want to test it first before using it on Macbeth. Movement out of the corner of his eye snared his attention and turned to see Angela approaching. “Angela, what a nice surprise,” he said when she got closer.
“I was wondering what you were doing.”
“I read in the paper that the stone is in the museum below us. Xanatos has received permission to have it in his possession for a brief time. He could have it as soon as tomorrow morning.”
“That’s wonderful. So, that means that…Wait. What’s that?” She pointed at a car that pulled up in front of the museum and two black-clad people got out.
“I don’t like the looks of this,” Macbeth stated. “They look like thieves.”
“Yes,” Angela agreed. “But, we can’t go in to stop them.”
“What!?” Macbeth couldn’t believe his ears. Since when did the gargoyles stop helping to protect? Why were they just going to let a robbery occur?
“Goliath says that we should not be seen at the scene of a crime, particularly when the object targeted is gone. We can follow them and get the object back and give it to Elisa and she can return it to the museum.”
He nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
They alighted on a nearby building and waited for the people to emerge. It felt like a long time when, in fact, it was only thirty minutes. They soon re-appeared, one of them holding a small sack. They got back in the car and took off with Angela and Macbeth following from above.
He had to admit that these thieves were good. They went in through the back door, avoided the guards, and didn’t set off any alarms. Thieves of that caliber weren’t cheap, which meant that their employer had a lot of money. He doubted it was Xanatos, not when he had already gotten legal permission to have the stone. His intuition told him that what was stolen was the stone; after all it was a new addition to the museum and the sack he had spied earlier was small enough to hold it. He voiced his suspicions to Angela and she agreed that it made sense. The only remaining question was, who hired the thieves?
He saw the car stopped at the front of a tall building and looked at their destination whose name was on one wall: Nightstone Unlimited. “Oh, no!” he said. “If it is the stone, Demona must not get it! She’ll wish for the end of humanity!”
Angela gasped. “You’re right, she would.”
Macbeth looked down and felt his heart sink: The thieves were already inside and he had no idea where Demona’s office was located…or did he? His eyes traveled up to the top floor. Yes, it would be like Demona to be on the top floor. Besides the fact that she was the CEO, it would give her enough height to glide away after hours.
He rose up the side of the building with Angela right behind him. There were lights on at the top with large windows providing a good view of the western sky. Macbeth sank his claws into the brickwork on the side of one window and cautiously peered in with Angela doing the same on the other side. He saw the thieves approach a desk where a piece of paper sat under a white envelope. One of the men picked up both items, looked at the paper, and passed it to his partner who held the sack. He too looked at the paper, put the sack on the desk, and both left the room.
A hidden door behind a bookcase opened and Demona appeared, grabbed the sack with a wicked grin, and retreated to her hidden room which was also lit. Macbeth released his hold and glided over to the next window. He saw Demon reach into the sack and pull out the stone that Macbeth had suspected the thieves had swiped. His intuition had been right!
He growled low before backing up to build up speed before aiming for the window, and heading straight through it. He felt slight pain from the glass, but he didn’t slow as he plowed into Demona, snagging the stone from her hand. Both hit the floor, their pain rebounding to the other.
Macbeth scrambled to his feet as did Demona while Angela landed just inside the shattered window. The red-haired gargoyle glared at the male before anger gave way to outright shock. The skin color was different, but the hair color, beard, and face structure were unchanged. “Macbeth? How…?”
Macbeth held up the stone. “It was this. I meant to wish for our link to break, but I was thinking of that time I saw you change in Paris at the time I was chanting. As a result, I’m like you now.”
Demona gave a derisive snicker. “Don’t flatter yourself. I am a true gargoyle. You are a mere human and once I get that stone, the human race will be no more!”
Macbeth had only seconds to think and act. He could glide away and head for Castle Wyvern as fast as he could. The clan could deal with Demona while he became human again. But, the stone would have to be returned to the museum where Demona could steal it again and still make her wish. Suppose he couldn’t glide fast enough to avoid Demona who would surely follow him? After all she had been a gargoyle all her life and he had been one for only a month or so. There was only one way to stop her: He would have to crush the stone and truly accept that he would be a gargoyle at night for good. He couldn’t ask Xanatos to destroy it; he would surely land in trouble for it. Yes, there’s only one way.
“Your plan ends here.” He put his hands together with the stone between them and squeezed them together. He felt the stone crack and shatter in his grip. He opened the base of his palms and a trickle of white powder poured onto the floor.
Demona looked at the powder and then at Macbeth before her eyes flared red. “You fool! Without it, you can’t be fully human.”
“I know. But, you can’t threaten the human race with it, either.”
“You’ll pay for this!” Demona screamed before launching herself at her longtime enemy.
Macbeth met the charge. He locked hands with her and pushed, his strength against hers. He felt Demona’s strength weakening, but then he felt her tail snap across his legs, knocking him onto his back. He heard Demona cry out as she shared the pain. She recovered first and landed on top of them. She drove a knee into his stomach while her hands locked onto his throat, seeking out the chokehold with ease.
His air being cut off, he reacted with desperation: He gripped her arm and slashed his claws down it. She screamed and so did he. He managed to get his tail out from underneath him and used the club end to strike her in the gut and off his body. He got to his feet, rubbing his arm and stomach where Demona had been struck. He glared at Demona while she glared at him, both of them growling and eyes flaring.
“Mother, stop please!” Angela cried, coming between the two combatants, facing Demona. “If you keep fighting, you’ll both die!”
“Demona doesn’t think about that when we fight, believe it or not.”
“Can’t you both get along? For me?” Angela pleaded.
Demona sighed. “I can’t promise to get along with him, but for you, Angela, I’ll stop fighting- for now.”
“That’s something I can agree on as well,” Macbeth said.
“Besides,” Demona flashed a sadistic grin. “I rather like the idea that you’ll remain a gargoyle at night. I find it ironic. You save humanity, but you lose half of yours in the process. That has to hurt.”
“You’re welcome to think it hurts. I, however, believe losing my humanity is a sacrifice I was willing to make to save the human race. Angela, can I ask you to tell Xanatos what happened here tonight?”
“Uh, of course.”
“Good.” He strode to the window, leaped out it, and started for home. His hope for nighttime humanity was shattered along with the stone, but it didn’t hurt like Demona thought it would. Yes, he couldn’t go out in public at night, but he was able to glide and that filled him with a joy he hadn’t known for a long time.
Yes, giving up half my humanity is sort of like a type of self-sacrifice. But, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. I do like being a gargoyle and I intend to help them be accepted by humans. After all, I’m a gargoyle, too.
