by Zoe Chant
Harpy above!
Her inner Gabriel Hound’s warning allowed Natalie to veer to the side. The harpy dropped down, barely missing her. It screeched in fury and whipped its wing at her, sending metallic feathers whistling through the air. Natalie beat her wings furiously, soaring upward, and evaded the feather-darts.
The gargoyle slammed into her, clawing at her with its taloned hands. She tried to bite it, but the angle was wrong and it was too quick. It clung to her while she snapped furiously, her jaws always closing on air. She couldn’t get to it with her paws, either. Her fur was giving her some protection from its talons—it was fluffy like a husky’s, with a thick inner layer—but she couldn’t get the gargoyle off her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the harpy Elayne diving down. Not toward Natalie—back down into the stone cylinder where Ransom was trapped. He’d already been wounded protecting her, and inside the stone trap the gargoyle had made, he could neither fight nor evade the harpy’s attack.
Natalie pawed and bit, but she couldn’t shake off the gargoyle. It clung to her like a sloth. Desperate to protect Ransom, heedless of her own safety, she folded her wings and dropped from the sky like a stone.
The gargoyle screeched, flapping its own wings to slow their descent. At the last moment before they hit the ground, it shifted back to human form and tried to force her to take the brunt of the fall. Natalie shifted as well and escaped his grip, tucking and rolling, protecting her head. It was a hard fall, but she didn’t feel any bones breaking.
Just bruised all over, she thought. I must have hit every pebble in Tomato Land.
The man who had been a gargoyle hadn’t been so lucky. He’d hit his head and was out cold. She staggered to her feet and watched the stone cyclinder he had created breaking up. It fell into little pieces that bounced and rolled like safety glass at a car crash, then dissolved into dust.
The harpy screeched angrily, then veered away and vanished into the night.
Natalie rushed to Ransom’s side. He was still a hellhound, his fur wet in patches where the darts had struck. His great head turned to her, and she looked straight into his hellfire eyes before he became a man again. The darts fell to the ground with a pair of disturbingly solid clunks, and he winced and put his hand to his chest.
She reached out to try to stop the bleeding with her hands, but he shook his head. “Not here. We have to climb over the fence—Oh.”
She followed his gaze. The shadows along the fence were alive and writhing, animated by the power of the unseen Elayne.
Natalie looked around frantically. The living shadows were in front of them, oozing and roiling along the entire length of the fence. The only other way out would require turning around and running all the way across Tomato Land. That not only seemed like an extremely unwise thing to do while Ransom was hurt and bleeding, but it would also involve going straight back to where they’d last seen the chupacabra and the Dunkleosteus. It was also extremely shadowy.
Ransom nudged her, jerking his head upward. She followed his gaze. The knife-shaped pirate ship loomed above them, lit by a huge bright spotlight. It would be visible from the freeway, which presumably was the intent. “No shadows there.”
They scrambled up the stairs, on to the platform, and into the ship. Once they were in it, they sank down on one of the bench-seats. They were still vulnerable to an attack from above, but at least they’d see it coming.
“I finally got you on the tomato knife,” she said.
“You were amazing,” he said, touching her cheek. “So beautiful and fierce.”
“Don’t look at me, look out for enemies.”
“I can multi-task,” Ransom said, but he tilted his head back to watch the sky. She hoped it was the effect of the fluorescent light, but his face looked very pale.
“Where’s your Swiss Army knife? I need to cut off your shirt.”
“Forget about that. The gargoyle’s out cold and you’re a match for the harpy. You need to fly out of here and—”
“What? I’m not leaving you!”
“—and get help,” he continued, without pausing. “It’s probably too late for anyone to be at the office, so you should go to Roland’s house. He can call everyone else, then come himself. He can get here fastest, because he can fly. He’s at—”
“Ransom. I’m not leaving you.”
“You have to. We’re completely outnumbered, and that’s not even counting Jager. I burned out my power and I don’t have a gun. Elayne’s blocked the way out, and—”
Natalie kissed him, partly to make him stop talking and partly because she loved him so much. It was brief, but it ran fire through her veins. “I’m not abandoning you.”
“It wouldn’t be abandoning me. It’d be getting reinforcements.”
“I don’t care what you call it. I’m not leaving you alone. That’s off the table. Now are you going to sit here bleeding and arguing, or are going to let me patch you up so we can both survive?”
After a moment, Ransom said, “My Swiss Army knife’s in my hip pocket.”
Natalie took it out, then helped him take off his leather jacket; he winced when he tried to move his left arm. Beneath the jacket, the left side of his T-shirt was soaked in blood from collar to hem. She cut it off, then began slicing up the right side of his shirt to make bandages.
“I don’t think the feathers went in very deep,” he said. “Maybe an inch or two.”
“That’s plenty deep enough!”
“I mean, it’s not like I got stabbed.”
“You absolutely got stabbed,” she said, bandaging his shoulder. “There’s no length requirement. You get punctured with a sharp object, you got stabbed.”
“You wouldn’t say ‘I got stabbed with a pin,” he objected.
“I might. Depends on the circumstances. Also, while we’re talking definitions, tomatoes are vegetables.”
“They’re fruits.” He breathed deeply, but didn’t flinch as she pressed a pad of T-shirt cloth into his side and secured it with more strips of cloth. As she helped him back into his leather jacket and zipped it up, he said, “You fell hard. Are you hurt?”
“A bit bruised.”
“You’re shivering.” He put his arms around her.
She gratefully leaned into his warmth, but her thoughts raced ahead. His wounds might not be knife-deep, but they’d bled a lot. Would her makeshift bandages hold if he had to run or fight? And where should they even run to? They were surrounded.
Fly.
Natalie was still unused to hearing a voice in her head, but she didn’t twitch. It was new, but it felt natural. The voice was low but still feminine, with a gravelly, growly undertone. A whiskey-and-cigarettes voice. And yet Natalie could hear that it was a version of her own voice.
I can’t leave him, she told the Gabriel Hound in her head.
Her Gabriel Hound gave a snort that reminded her of Wally. Of course not. Fly your mate to safety.
“My Gabriel Hound says you could ride me,” Natalie said.
Ransom looked deeply dubious. “Wouldn’t I be too heavy? She’s not that big.”
Neither is your human form, said the Gabriel Hound. But it’s stronger than it looks.
Natalie repeated that, adding, “Remember how she needed me to take a leap of faith? I think it’s our turn again.”
“I trust you. And her.” He paused for a moment, then added, “So does my hellhound. Let’s get out of here.”
Natalie reached inward, seeking her Gabriel Hound. This time shifting was as easy and natural as doing a cartwheel. Wings blossomed from her shoulders.
Despite their urgency, she loved seeing Ransom’s expression of wonder and awe as he gazed at her other form. Then he swung a long leg over her back and settled in behind her wings.
Then it was Natalie’s moment to doubt. The Gabriel Hound was much more lightly built than the hellhound, and Ransom was tall.
Leap of faith, she reminded herself, and spread her wings.
&
nbsp; She flapped hard, lifted a couple inches off the floor, then thumped back down.
Uh-oh, Natalie thought.
Ransom started to swing his leg off her, but Natalie, driven by the sharp negative of her inner hound, swung her head around, nipped the edge of his leather jacket, and sat him back down.
“Okay,” he said. “But…”
Let’s try it without having to do a lift-off, suggested her Gabriel Hound.
How do we do that? Natalie asked, though she had an uneasy idea that she knew.
The Gabriel Hound’s starry eyes moved to the bow of the pirate ship, and the thirty foot drop to the ground.
We jump.
Chapter 27
It was an ordinary late night at the Defenders office. Everyone was either working on a case or catching up on old work or hanging around to get a share of the pizza Carter and Tirzah had ordered, and they’d all gravitated to the lobby to eat it.
Eat the pizza, Merlin’s inner raptor demanded. Eat it ALL!
Without conscious intent, Merlin’s hand stretched out to the last slice of hot sausage and wildflower honey pizza.
“Hey!” Carter exclaimed. “That’s my pizza. If any of the rest of you had said you wanted it, we could have ordered more of it, but no, you all said it sounded gross—”
“I didn’t,” said Merlin.
“—and ‘You get it if you want it, Carter,’ and then you ate more of it than I did!”
Merlin withdrew his hand. “Sorry. Raptor acting up. You can have it.”
“I don’t want it now that you’ve touched it,” Carter said grouchily. “Blue was licking your hands a second ago.”
Roland reached over both of their shoulders and helped himself to the slice. “I don’t mind.”
Carter’s howl of outrage made Blue jump to his feet and start barking, his tiny dragonfly wings buzzing madly.
Tirzah laughed. “You’re such a troll, Roland.”
“Troll as in internet, or troll as in hungry creature that lives under a bridge?” Roland asked, then ate half the slice in one bite.
“Both,” said Carter, glaring.
Dali cleared her throat. “Since the hot sausage drizzled with wildflower honey was clearly the popular favorite, shall I order another one?”
“Yes,” said Roland, swallowing. “Thank you.”
Pete returned from the kitchen with Spike and Batcat clinging to his shoulders, and a can of root beer in his hand. He passed the can to Tirzah, then demanded, “Merlin, did you eat all the sausage pizza?”
Volunteer to go downstairs and collect it when it arrives, his raptor suggested. Then eat it ALL!
You’re not helping, Merlin returned.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Blue stealthily bellying up to the untouched Hawaiian pizza. Merlin snatched it away, petted his bugbear in apology, then passed it to Tirzah, who was the nearest person to him who wasn’t busy ordering another pizza.
“This has ham on it. I don’t eat ham.” Tirzah passed it to Pete.
“I know, I was just getting it away from—” Merlin began.
“Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza.” Pete passed it to Carter.
“I’d never order that abomination.” Carter passed it to Roland.
Roland considered it, then said, “I think I’ll hold out for Carter’s special gourmet sausage.” Glancing at Merlin, he asked, “Is Blue allowed to eat pizza?”
“No,” said Merlin. It wasn’t entirely true, but he certainly wasn’t allowed to eat an entire pizza by himself, and when no one else wanted it, that was what one bite would lead to.
Dali hung up the phone, and Roland passed the Hawaiian pizza to her. Cloud, who was sprawled over the lobby counter, spat in disgust.
“No, thanks.” She glanced around the room. “Why’d you guys put it on the list if nobody likes it?”
Everyone looked at each other. It was like all the light went out of the room.
“It’s Ransom’s favorite,” Pete said.
It was an ordinary late night at the Defenders office, except it wasn’t. Ransom wasn’t there, and his absence was like a black hole in the room, an invisible but ever-present force. And like a magic spell, the mention of his name opened the floodgates.
“I shouldn’t have let him walk away like that,” Merlin said.
“Oh, Merlin,” Dali said, putting her arm around him. “You tried to stop him. You grabbed him by the arm, but he shook you off.”
“I let him shake me off,” Merlin corrected her. “My raptor was yelling, ‘Grab him, sit on him, don’t let him get away!’ I should’ve listened.”
“I should’ve bugged his car,” Tirzah said glumly. “I actually thought about it. I was worried that he’d overuse his power and collapse somewhere and we wouldn’t know where he was.”
“He’d have noticed,” said Pete. “I caught him checking his car for bugs once.”
“I should’ve bugged his laptop,” said Tirzah. “He wouldn’t have noticed that.”
“He left his laptop at his apartment,” said Carter. Everyone turned to stare at him. Defensively, he said, “I came back to the office, and he was gone and you were all freaking out! I was worried. I mean, I was curious.”
“Curious enough to search his apartment?” Pete asked. “How’d you even know where it is? He sure never told me.”
“Or me,” said Merlin.
Carter made a vague gesture toward his own laptop.
“Oh,” said Dali. “You hacked him.”
“Not very effectively,” said Carter. “I found his apartment, but he’s gone and the trail ends there.”
Stake it out, suggested Merlin’s inner raptor. If he comes back, then you can sit on him.
Merlin would have gone for it, but he didn’t think Ransom had any intention of returning to his apartment. He’d have left it behind for good, like he’d left his team.
Like Natalie had left the circus, without explanation or goodbye or forwarding address.
Merlin knew it wasn’t personal. Ransom had been deeply unhappy and had obviously been running away from something when Merlin had known him in the Marines, and that was before he’d been experimented on and given a shift form he hated for some reason Merlin didn’t understand and a power he hated for very obvious reasons. As for Natalie, Merlin had no idea why she’d left, but it had been of her own free will, and certainly had nothing to do with him.
But he couldn’t help feeling that even if he hadn’t been the problem, he ought to have been more of a solution. He’d written to Natalie, but maybe not often enough. He’d assumed she knew that she was his best friend and his practically-sister, and that he’d do anything for her if she ever needed a hand. But maybe she didn’t know it. Maybe he should have explicitly said so. And had there been some hint in her letters to him that he’d overlooked, some clue about something wrong that he still hadn’t figured out even though he’d re-read them a hundred times by now in search of it?
As for Ransom, Merlin should have reached out to him more. He should have pushed harder to get his teammate to talk to him. He should have—
Roland, who had been very silent up till then, said, “This is on me. I pushed him too hard. And now he’s gone.”
He looked so bleak that the team jumped in with a chorus of “You meant well” and “You told him he could come back” and (from Merlin) “Honestly, Roland, I tried a bunch of times to get through to him, but he’s so—”
Tirzah’s phone went off with a ringtone Merlin hadn’t heard before, the opening chords of “Born to Run.” Her voice rose high and excited as she snatched it up. “That’s my Ransom alarm! Quick, Pete, pass me my laptop!”
As Pete handed her the computer, Dali said, “Your Ransom alarm?”
“Mmm-hmm. I installed an alarm on his door, so I’d be alerted if he came back.” Defensively, she said, “But I didn’t break into his apartment and search it!”
Peering over her shoulder at her laptop, Roland said drily, “No, you just broke
in and installed a hidden camera.”
“No-oo-ooo,” Tirzah said, squirming. “I didn’t go inside. I got Batcat to stick it on the outside of one of his windows. In case he needed help. Like in case he got dragged back by wizard-scientists. Or something.”
Now everyone was watching over her shoulder. The camera had been stuck on the window at an odd angle, so the view was sharply tilted, showing more of the walls than anything else. It was also very dim, lit only by streetlights outside. Merlin’s eyes ached as he strained them, waiting for Ransom—or someone else—to step into frame.
An extremely adorable black and white husky puppy trotted into view.
“Awww,” said Merlin, delighted. “Ransom has a puppy!”
The puppy sniffed the wall, then disappeared. Literally.
“Stupid glitchy camera,” Tirzah muttered. “I told Batcat not to chew on it, but...”
“Hang on,” Carter said sharply. “Look at the timestamps.”
Another puppy, an equally adorable white fluffball, appeared in the view. It didn’t walk on. It was just suddenly there.
“Did that puppy…?” Dali began.
The white puppy was joined by the black-and-white puppy, which was also just suddenly there.
Merlin felt his face crack with a grin. “Ransom has magical puppies! Look how darling they are!”
“You’re right,” said Tirzah. “The camera never stopped filming. The puppies teleported.”
“But where’s Ransom?” asked Roland.
The two puppies sniffed and licked each other, then sat back, raised their muzzles high, and began to howl. Their piercing wails were audible even to the camera stuck to the outside of a closed window, and must have been earsplitting from inside. But no one stepped into the frame to comfort them.
Blue woke up with a start and also began to howl. Batcat and Spike flapped their wings and yowled, and Cloud began flying in circles close to the ceiling.