Читать книгу The Gargoyle Overhead - Philippa Dowding - Страница 10

Gargoth's Beacon

Katherine had a confused look on her face. “Beacon? What do you mean? Do you want us to help you light the candles, Gargoth?”

“Yes, Katherine. Here,” he handed her the candle. He offered Cassandra another lit candle.

“The three of us can light them quickly together,” he said. Katherine nodded and began lighting candles. “He wants us to help him light them all,” she translated for Cassandra, who followed along, a little confused but happy to help out.

For the next several minutes, the three of them went from candle to candle, lighting smiling pumpkins. With his clumsy, leathery claws, Gargoth found it hard to light the candles easily and kept scorching himself.

THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: try to avoid the scent of scorched gargoyle, if you ever happen across it. It’s a little like overcooked cabbage and cat-box, with a dash of moldering dead rat thrown in for good measure. Pretty much the exact opposite of anything nice you’ve ever smelled in your life. Both Cassandra and Katherine tried to hide the fact that they were holding their noses, which made lighting the candles very difficult. Gargoth didn’t seem to notice.

It took them ages, but despite the horrible stench of burnt gargoyle and the fact that the candles were hard to light, they did finally get them all lit.

Eventually Cassandra’s rooftop was alight with one hundred and forty-eight shimmering orange-scented pumpkin candles (which strangely did little to mask the stink of burned gargoyle flesh). They looked very pretty glowing softly in the dark night, but the reason for their arrangement was still a mystery to Katherine and Cassandra.

Gargoth climbed back up the ladder on the chimney to see the candles better. He climbed down and waddled to a few candles, moving them slightly. He returned to the chimney to look again. Eventually he flopped onto his small cushion beside the lemonade pitcher.

He poured himself a long drink, refilled his pipe, then wiggled comfortably on his cushion, blowing smoke rings toward the stars.

Eventually Katherine couldn’t stand it any longer. She looked over at Cassandra, who was knitting again, and who could only shrug.

Katherine had enough. “Okay Gargoth, what’s going on?” she asked. “What’s this ‘beacon’ for?”

He propped himself up on one elbow and sighed. “We have to be patient, Katherine. It may take a long while, but my beacon may bring the one I wish to summon.”

“Which one? Who do you wish to summon? What are you talking about?” Katherine was demanding again, which was never good with Gargoth. If you got too snoopy, or too direct, he’d stop talking altogether, which was very annoying, since it usually only happened when you were excited. And you were probably excited because something interesting was about to happen, which hardly seemed fair.

Gargoth blew out a long stream of smoke. “You’re overexcited, Katherine,” he said quietly. “Be calm, child.”

Katherine frowned and turned to Cassandra. “He’s teasing me. He says his ‘beacon’ may bring the one he wishes to summon, whatever that means…” She stopped in mid-sentence.

Then she knew. The other gargoyle. The one who had flown away from Cassandra’s shop just days before she and Gargoth had entered it last spring.

“Do you mean the lost gargoyle?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” he said simply. “It is a beacon for my greatest friend, the only one who can help me, the gargoyle Ambergine.”