This mini-anthology began with an orphaned story. I wrote Gabriel's Gargoyles for an anthology of holiday fantasy fiction. The editor never received the submission, and by the time I realized that, he'd thought I backed out, and it was too late for my contribution to be included. That left me with a story that was too short to sell as a single and unlikely to find a home in another anthology. So I decided to create a home for it, as one half of a holiday-themed duo.
Gabriel's Gargoyles is a prequel to my Cainsville series. Gabriel Walsh is one of the major characters, and this story is set twenty years ago, when he was ten and searching for the last "hidden" gargoyle in Cainsville. To parallel his story, I decided the Otherworld one should be narrated by the character closest to Gabriel's age. That would be nine-year-old Logan Danvers, one of Clay and Elena's twins.
Gabriel's story is also about trying to come up with the money to buy his great-aunt Rose the perfect Solstice gift. I further paralleled the Otherworld tale by having Logan struggling to figure out how to give his sister, Kate, the perfect gift. So we have two resourceful pre-teen boys thwarted in their efforts to get the perfect gift for the most important person in their lives. That's where the similarities end, though. Gabriel and Logan's home lives could not be more different, and these stories gave me the chance to explore and juxtapose those lives, while working with two relatively "new" characters.
While I have released previously published stories as e-books, this is my first time trying it with all-new material. I'll be curious to know what readers think of this holiday-themed experiment!
Gabriel's Gargoyles
Gabriel Walsh shielded his eyes against the late-afternoon sun and squinted up at the gargoyle, peering back at him from under the eaves of the towering bank. One of Chicago's oldest buildings, his teacher had said. No longer a bank, though. There was no need for such an elaborate financial establishment in this neighborhood. It was elaborate, with intricate stonework and swooping eaves. And, apparently, a gargoyle.
Gabriel hadn't seen the gargoyle before, which meant it hadn't been there. If it had, he'd have spotted it. He was something of an expert. In Cainsville, where his great-aunt Rose lived, there was an annual May Day contest to see which child had found the most town gargoyles. Gabriel had won for the last four years. This year, he was determined to take the grand prize: the honor of having found every gargoyle in Cainsville. The town elders had assured him he had only one left to go.
He sidestepped to get a better look at this gargoyle. The fact it did not seem to have existed a day ago came as no great shock. Cainsville would hardly make such a big deal out of the competition if the gargoyles were always there, waiting to be counted. Some kids claimed they were living things, that when no one was looking they spread their wings and flew about the town and guarded it against all comers. Which was ridiculous, of course. The real explanation? Simple illusion. A visual sleight of hand. A concept Gabriel was far more familiar with than flying stonework.
"Gabe!"
He tried not to stiffen at the voice. Jay Hoover, toughest kid in the fifth grade. Also the stupidest, which had made Gabriel's school days slightly more bearable. And much more profitable.
"Yo, Gabe!"
He didn't turn. That wasn't his name. Which Jay knew very well, and which was why he insisted on calling Gabriel by it.
Jay swung in front of him. He was a big kid, a prerequisite for bullies at this age. The second-biggest kid in class, and that, Gabriel had decided, was the root cause of the issue.
Jay stepped up toe-to-toe with Gabriel, as he did with all his victims. Not too bright and, apparently, lacking proper memory skills, because he always moved right in front of Gabriel and then looked up at him before remembering who was the biggest kid in fifth grade and quickly stepping back before anyone else noticed the height difference.
"So, Gabe, you didn't tell the class what you're getting your mommy for Christmas."
Gabriel said nothing, just eyed the trio of Jay's hangers-on, bouncing on the sidelines, waiting for the first blow, rather bored by the verbal preamble.
"I've got something you can give her." Jay pulled a crack pipe from his pocket. The others laughed obligingly. It was a poor joke. Anyone who knew his mother would realize a needle was the proper tool and, therefore, would have been much funnier.
"You don't like that?" Jay pulled a ten from his pocket and waggled it. "What do you think I could get from her for this?" He made an obscene gesture. Two of his friends giggled. The third said, "Nah, you don't need that. Everyone knows Gabe's mother isn't a whore. She does it for free."