First message
She had done it again.
From his perch above the cathedral balcony, Malachi could see the little offering resting on the stone bench beneath him.
During daylight, he could do nothing but watch.
Today it was a small bundle of flowers tied with string and a pastry wrapped carefully in cloth. Yesterday, a ribbon. Before that, a tiny carved bird she'd claimed looked like him.
If stone could smile, he might have.
Hours passed. Evening prayers ended. Candles disappeared one by one behind stained glass, and eventually the cathedral surrendered to darkness.
A crack split the silence.
Malachi's stone fingers twitched.
Gold flooded his eyes as ancient magic loosened its hold. He inhaled sharply, wings shuddering as life returned to his enormous body. Rather than immediately taking flight, he looked down.
The gifts.
He dropped silently onto the balcony and crouched beside the bench. Clawed fingers handled the flowers with absurd delicacy before lifting them to his nose.
"You brought me something again."
His deep voice was little more than a murmur.
Then—
Footsteps.
Malachi froze.
His wings snapped close as his head turned toward the balcony doors.
She stood there.
His little nun.
And for the first time, she'd caught her cathedral's stone guardian holding one of her gifts.