I gasped as the shell began to break apart in a tumble of rubble. The baby gargoyle , for that was what they were, were more than my worst nightmares. Unlike baby chicks, these creatures were slimy, all angles, and screeching. I’d heard of baby animals sometimes impreinted on the first thing they saw and thereafter believing that thing was their mother.

My fall caused the sharp beak of the creature to miss me. Rolling, I fought to regain my footing.in the debris of nest and egg shells. The gargoylette stood watching and getting its bearings. The creature stabbed it’s beak hungrily at me, but I sprang to the side. Luckily, I still clutched the dagger. I struck back. The creature squawked as the blade chipped a piece of its wing, which felt as hard as rock. Shrieking in pain, or maybe anger, it leapt toward me. I dove under it, its rib cage scraping my arm as I did. Pain burned up my arm. I gripped the knife tigher. I landed flat with a thump. The nest under me shifted, then gave way.

I fell.

Some part of me knew how high I was, and in that instant I screamed because I knew I was about to die.