Free, and anger burning in his wings, Jenks drew his sword and dropped to where Bis was clinging to Sylvan's statue, hissing at Daryl as she stood in a spot of light with a satisfied smile.
"What the hell is wrong with you!" Jenks shouted, darting to a stop inches from the woman to make her jerk back. "You could have killed her! She's only a year old!"
Daryl's thin eyebrows rose. "A pixy?" she said haughtily, then stifled a cough. "Take your complaint to what demon will listen to you. Sylvan is in that statue, and there he will stay!"
"I'll take my complaint to you!" Jenks shouted, poking his sword at her nose.
The woman shrieked, robes furling as she swung her fist to miss him completely. "You cut me! You filthy little mouse!"
Jenks darted back, only to dive in again to slice another cut under her eye. "I'm letting Sylvan go if only to piss you off! You look like a sorority sister in hell week with that discount sheet around you! What is that, a one-fifty thread count? My three-year-old can weave better than that."
Clasping a hand over her eye, the woman shrieked, her voice echoing in the darkness. "I'll destroy you for that!" she cried, spinning to keep Jenks in front of her.
"Jenks?" Bis said loudly, half hiding behind Sylvan's statue. "Maybe we should leave the goddess alone."
"Goddess!" Jenks pulled up a safe eight feet into the air. His sword glinted red in the lamplight, and his wings hummed. Cocky, he dropped back down. "She's no goddess. She's a whiny. Little. Girl."
Angry at the woman's lack of respect, Jenks slashed at her robes with each word.
"Uh, Jenks?" Bis warbled his creased face bunched in worry as she screeched.
"Get out of here!" Jenks yelled at her like she was a stray dog. "Go find a museum or something. That's where you belong! Tell them Jenks sent you."
Panting, the woman came to a halt, staring up at him. Her face was red, and determination was equally mixed with anger. A car door slammed in the distance. Someone had heard her and was coming across the wide expanse of lawn. Oblivious, the woman jumped straight up at him with a fierce yell.
"Holy crap!" Jenks exclaimed, darting up. But the woman had sprung to her statue, scattering Bis and using it to make another leap for him. "Whoa! Lady. Chill out!" Jenks shouted as he darted to the nearby tree. Immediately he realized his mistake when Daryl leapt into the branches, following him.
"I am a goddess!" she screamed, her sword thunking into the branches as he dodged her. "You will die, pixy! Your name will be forgotten. Anyone who aligns themselves with Sylvan is a shade still walking!"
Maybe he went too far, Jenks wondered as her blade got closer with each swing, but before he could retreat, his wings unexpectedly froze. He had a glimpse of Daryl blowing at him with her lips pursed, and then he plummeted, falling through the leaves to the cement below.
"No!" Jenks exclaimed as the smacking of leaves against his back ceased and he dropped into free fall. A yelp escaped him when long, thin, gray fingers caught him, pulling him closer to the ashy scent of iron and dry stone. Above, Daryl scrambled to reach the ground.
"Bis!" Jenks said, dazed as he looked up to the gargoyle's red eyes. "Good God. We have to get out of here!"
"Yeah, that's what I've been telling you," Bis said dryly.
In the distance, the sound of car doors slamming and the revving of an engine told him whoever it was, was now leaving. Bis landed again on Sylvan's statue, shaking in fear. Carefully testing his wings, Jenks took to the air. Daryl was again on the sidewalk, her steely eyes watching them both in evaluation.
"You okay?" Bis said as his claws scratched the statue's forehead.
"Yeah," he said, stretching his shoulders and wondering if there was a remaining stiffness. "We have to get this bitch away from the garden before she hurts someone."
"How?"
Bis was trembling, his eyes wide and whirling. Grinning, Jenks rose farther up into the air. "I'll get her to follow me," he said to the gargoyle, then turned to the woman. "Hey, bright eyes! What's your problem with Sylvan? Did the dude bump uglies with one of your girlfriends?"
Jenks shifted his hips back and forth to make sure she knew what he was talking about, and Daryl's eyes narrowed. With no warning, she came at him silently, her robes furling in the wind from her passage.
Adrenaline pushing him, Jenks darted into the green field, leading her away. The city was nearby. He'd get her among the buildings, then ditch her. The cops would pick her up for disturbing the peace. Inderland Security would love bringing in a thought-to-be-extinct species of Inderlander with a goddess complex, but that was their job.
Laughing, Jenks sped across the grass, dark and black with the night. A ripple of wind shifted under his wings, and he looked down. An eerie keening dove down upon him, and in a surge of panic, he found himself tossed in a sudden whirlwind.
His sense of direction vanished. Tumbling, the wind beat at him, almost a living force bending his wings and tearing his breath from his lungs. Starved for air and out of control, he fell out of the sky and slammed into the ground. The wind collapsed on him, bringing him to his knees. Eyes shut, he held his wings to his back, one hand gripping his sword, the other clenched upon the grass to keep him from spinning away.
Just as suddenly as it came upon him, the wind broke into a thousand pieces of shrill voice and vanished. Dazed, he looked up, still kneeling.
Daryl was standing over him, her silver eyes gleaming like a cat's in the dark. Wheezing from the pollution, she raised her foot. "You are rude, and you will die."
"Oh, shit . . ." Jenks whispered.
A dark gray streak slammed into her chest, and, stumbling, Daryl fell back.
"Bis!" Jenks exclaimed as the gargoyle swung back around, plucking him from the ground and holding him close. "Tink loves a duck, you're a great backup!"
"You can't fly," Bis said breathlessly. "You're too light. Let's get out of here!"
" 'Kay," Jenks said, grateful but feeling somewhat sheepish. This was the kind of spot he was always getting Rachel out of. He didn't like being carried, but if the woman could whistle up the wind, then he'd be better off with Bis. The moon had shifted, and Vincet and his family would be okay for another day. If the garden was sacred, Daryl wouldn't be likely to tear it apart.
Behind them came an infuriated shriek, and Jenks cringed when the roar of the wind came again. Wiggling, he inched himself up to look over Bis's shoulder, not liking the dips and swerves Bis was putting into his flight. Squinting, he looked behind him expecting to see a frustrated women standing alone, but the grass was empty. Satisfaction filled him. Until he saw the black, boiling cloud bearing down on them, rolling over the grass to leave it untouched.