“A few days. Sometimes a week. It can depend on the Gargoyle, who the forger was, how strong the spell work was. How big the touchstone is. Larger touchstones hold more energy, allowing a Gargoyle to store more energy, enough to last for longer periods of time.”

“And what about you?” she asked, her eyes nervously looking toward the windows and the storm swishing around beyond them. “Is that why you are in a hurry? Is that why you need to rush out of here?”

“I’ve got plenty of time,” he lied smoothly to her. “My forger was one of the two most powerful Templar Bodywalkers in the world. His Gargoyles are among the most powerful, most invincible of our breed. But it also meant we were held longest in captivity as well because he was not the kind of man to make mistakes or become careless with his touchstones. I need to leave to give my leader some information.” To bring him that Amulet. And the girl attached to it.

“But if you need a Bodywalker’s energy to rejuvenate the stone, how can you be free from your maker?”

Such a bright, quick thing she was. He marveled at her. The world of Bodywalkers and Nightwalkers in general was a very complex one, a tough one to keep track of at times, and she was keeping up enough to ask well-thought-out questions.

“Let me begin by explaining what a Bodywalker is.”

“Oh yes. That might be useful,” she said with an eager nod.

“Only if you promise tae eat,” he countered looking pointedly at her largely untouched plate of food. “Or risk forfeiting it tae me.”

She grinned at him for that, picking up her fork and stabbing at some meat and vegetables. Once she had dutifully popped the forkful into her mouth she gestured for him to continue with no little amount of impatience.

“The Bodywalkers, like me, were once human. Long ago in Egypt in the cradle of civilization. It is believed that their mummification processes and their selfish desire tae bring all their worldly goods along with them into the land of the dead angered the gods. As punishment they were indeed allowed tae be preserved for all time … in spirit. In the Ether, a place sort of like the way people picture heaven. Full of clouds and insubstantial spirits. There they were aware of one another, aware of time passing in gruelingly slow increments. Aware of the life that continued on the living plane of existence. A limbo, if you will. No’ heaven. No’ hell. No reward … but a great deal of torment simply by nature of being aware of the passage of time second by second, year by year, century by century, with nothing tae occupy their minds.

“One day one of the souls in limbo discovered that they could live again. All they need do was find a human being on the verra instant of death and ask them if they would mind sharing their bodies with a second soul. If they say yes they are reborn together as a Bodywalker. The visiting soul brings with it remarkable healing ability and a very special power, different from soul tae soul, and immortality. As long as they can stay alive, they will live indefinitely.

“There are two factions of Bodywalkers,” he said, “the Politic and the Templars. The Templars use spells and unnatural magics tae get their way in the world. They also subjugate the host, the original soul, completely taking over the body. The Politic are different in that they do not like tae use most magics and that they Blend with the host soul, coming tae a point of equal sharing and harmonious life together with the host they are guests tae. Now, tae answer your question, the Templars and Politic are at war and it is we Gargoyles that were the catalyst of that war. The Templars were already disapproved of for their hijacking of the host body, and there were other reasons why discontent was brewing between the two factions, but it was the creation of Gargoyles as slaves that pushed them over the edge. There was a great war, much like your civil war, only there is still no winner and those who were the original tribe of Gargoyles were physically freed in one great fell swoop at the beginning battle of this war. The Gargoyles were led tae freedom by a great man named Herron.”

He grew quiet for a moment, toying with a last piece of bell pepper left on his plate. “You see, we are no’ allowed tae have names once we are made. They strip us of them. I doona know why exactly. A way of humiliating and subjugating us, I suppose. Herron was the name of the great Politic general that led the charge that freed all of the first generation, or tribe, of Gargoyles. As homage every Gargoyle in the first tribe took a name starting with h. Every Gargoyle in the next generation put the silent ‘h’ in as the second letter in their names.”

“Then third put the ‘h’ in the third position,” she said with understanding. “So that makes you a second generation Gargoyle because the ‘h’ you use is in second position.”

“Aye.”

“What defines a generation?”

“A hundred years. If you were forged in the first hundred years you were a member of the first tribe. The second hundred, the second tribe. And so on.”

“I see.” She frowned at him then handed him her half-emptied plate. He took it and began to finish her leftovers.

“So in answer tae your original question, we each find a Politic Bodywalker tae swear fealty tae. We pledge tae protect them and theirs, stand sentinel outside their walls, and they in turn vow tae recharge our stones, give us a place in their homes and families and protect us in turn as we sit in our statue states recharging in the sun. ’Tis what you might call a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“I see,” she said again. “Do you like your Politic Bodywalker?”

“Oh aye,” he said with enthusiasm. “Menes is the ruler of the body Politic. A finer Pharaoh there never was. And he has a sweet mate as well. A fiery redheaded lass. Her name is Hatshepsut. Or Marissa. We use Marissa. Wi’ two souls comes two names and they choose which one tae be called by. Menes uses his host’s name as well. Jackson. You’ll meet them before all is said and done.”

“I will? A pharaoh?” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I’m fit for royalty.” She swallowed again and her hands began to wrap around each other. “It’s just a necklace. A pretty one. I can just stay here and keep it on.”

“No! You canna! That’s dark magic there,” he said, pointing harshly at the Amulet. “You’re coming wi’ me. The sooner we get that thing off you the happier I’ll be. You can be on your way after that, but I’ll no’ let you run around wi’ that on no’ knowing what it might do tae you.”