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Veronica reached under her wings to undo her halter top. “Because of you, dum-dum,” she said over her shoulder. “You’e like my sister—REAL sisters, not weird culty sisters like everyone else in here. What would I do without you being my daily mopey conscience?”

“And for what it’s worth,” she continued, “this is still my home.”

“You’re going to get caught.”

Veronica pulled on the same rough reed dress the other gargoyle was wearing, tying it across her front with a grimly-hewn rope. “I’m not going to get caught,” she said. “And so what if I do? Their worst punishment is banishment to the outside world. Bummers!”

Maeve turned away, still hugging herself. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said. “That one day I’ll just lose you to their world, one day or the other.”

“Stop worrying!” Veronica pleaded, opening her arms. “And it’s not ‘their world,’ Maeve. It’s just the world.”

“Gargoyles have the same right to be in it as anyone, and just because the elder ones have chosen to hide in these caves in this mountain doesn’t mean we have to. We escaped our slavery to the mages generations ago, but now we’e slaves to this damned rock.”

“Veronica!” Maeve protested, something she did often.

“Don’t Veronica me,” Veronica raised her shoulders as if to ward off defeat. “We have wings for a reason, Maeve. I’m ready. Let’s go.”