She woke with pain pulsing at her temples, her mind mired in mucilaginous layers of lassitude. Forcing tidbits to surface tweaked her brain. She remembered the gargoyle had been part of the convoluted dream. And the barbarian. Although she couldn't remember the details, an aftermath of gloom mantled her. She wanted to cry, and that was so unlike her. Cry when she was angry, maybe. It happened occasionally. Rarely. But to cry for the sake of— What? So, she was trapped below the Callanish Standing Stones. Fodder for a helluva story when she returned topside. Okay, so her host was a gargoyle. More fodder, if anyone believed he existed outside of her imagination. And there was the barbarian. Annoying, yes, but he did stave off her boredom. And she detested being bored. So much so, she had fantasized about him carrying her off and ravaging her. Why hasn't he? she wondered petulantly. She splashed her face with cold water from the stone basin, and patted her skin dry with a frond half her size.
