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Tides of Spring: A Dark Shapeshifter Urban Fantasy (Echoes of the Past Book 3)

Page 15

by H B Lyne


  'How is he still alive? Even if people have been feeding him?' Stalker whispered. Her head was spinning.

  'He's a tough old shifter,' Weaver replied with a small smile.

  Stalker shone the torch around the pit. There was a concrete box at the edge on the far side that had a hole in the top. The stench of waste was issuing from it and a small pile of roughly torn scraps of fabric sat beside it. Roughly in the middle there was a filthy pile of rags that seemed to serve as a bed. Right below where the Lightning Lords stood were the traces of crumbs and thoroughly chewed bones. The girl must have been feeding him leftovers, tossing them into the pit for him.

  Pounding footsteps and a bobbing white light down the tunnel caught Stalker's attention. Claws skidded to a halt a moment later and held up a coil of rope. He quickly tied it around his waist, skilfully choosing the best knots.

  'Are you sure?' Eyes asked her quietly. Stalker nodded in reply, resolute but still nervous. Her eyes met Claws' and he gave her a reassuring nod as he grasped the rope tightly in both hands and planted his feet firmly in the dirt. Wind Talker was at his side, ready to help take the strain if necessary. For a brief second that made Stalker more nervous, unsure whether she could trust him or not. She had to do this, though, so she took a deep breath, stepped carefully to the edge and jumped.

  Her talisman kicked in after a second of free fall and she floated gently the last few feet to land with a soft thud on the dusty, dirty floor. A second later there was a slight flapping sound and the rope landed next to her, bouncing gently against the wall a few times before coming to rest. Stalker swept the torchlight across the bottom of the pit and settled on the confused face of Hidden Voice, huddled next to his bedding. He looked so old and frail, he was little more than skin and bones and his watery eyes implored her to explain who she was.

  'I'm going to get you out of here,' she said quietly as she approached him slowly.

  His hands flew up to shield his eyes from the torchlight and she immediately lowered it away from his face. 'How long have you been down here?'

  'I don't know,' he croaked. 'Who are you? Where is the girl?'

  He was shaking as she drew close to him, his eyes were wide with fear.

  'Who put you in here?' she asked softly. His eyes darted to meet hers, they were ice cold and his face twitched with fury.

  'Blue Moon,' he hissed through clenched teeth.

  Stalker sighed. Well, now they knew. She looked him over carefully. He had too much bare skin to try walking up the rope and nowhere near enough muscle to pull himself up either.

  'I'm not Blue Moon,' she said gently and slowly reached a hand to touch his arm. 'They're gone. I'm going to have to change form to carry you up. Is that okay?'

  His eyes widened even further and his lip trembled slightly but he nodded his head. Stalker stood and moved back a few paces. She looked up at the high walls all around them and located the rest of the pack peering over at her. 'We're coming up, get ready with the rope,' she called out.

  She looked back down at Hidden Voice and tried to give him a reassuring smile, but realised that he couldn't see her face in the dark. She wasn't going to be able to hold the torch once she shifted so she knelt down beside him again and held the torch out to him. 'You take this.' Slowly, he took it and his arms shook with the weight of it.

  She backed off again and willed her body to shift, forcing the bones to lengthen, muscles to expand and thick hair to sprout all over her body. She stood over him, an extra foot tall and unable to speak softly; the torchlight shuddered and flickered across the floor and over her feet. She couldn't see his face, but she heard him sobbing. She approached him slowly, carefully and as gently as she could manage in her Agrius form, she lifted him and hoisted him onto her shoulder. He whimpered and remained rigid in her grasp but was light as a feather.

  Stalker held her free arm out to find the rope and grabbed it tightly, wrapping it around her forearm, and gave it a firm tug to signal the others. The slack disappeared and Stalker felt her shoulder wrench slightly as her pack mates began to pull. She swung her feet up and planted them on the wall. Pain shot through the balls of her feet and there was an angry hiss from her skin as it burned, but she took a deep breath and braced herself against the pain. Every step was agony and she winced each time her huge paws made contact with the silver. Hidden Voice trembled and moaned as they moved gradually upwards.

  Finally they approached the top and Eyes and Wind Talker grabbed Hidden Voice and dragged him up first. Stalker flung up her free arm and grabbed Weaver's offered arm and bounded out of the pit easily. Claws let out a massive sigh and Stalker shifted form swiftly and flung a thankful arm around him.

  'You are covered in shit,' he hissed at her ear and she pulled quickly away from him. He was smirking and she gave him a friendly shove. They moved over to Hidden Voice, who was collapsed on the floor, shaking. Wind Talker had taken the torch away from him and was shining it carefully over his body.

  'Look,' he whispered and the others drew closer. In the white light of the torch, faded and covered in filth, were markings on the frail old shifter's skin. Old tattoos were all over his arms and across his shoulders where his rags had slipped down. Runes telling of fire, phoenix and fury. On the back of one shoulder was an even more chilling tattoo, that of a small spiral. Stalker gasped.

  'Oh my god,' she whispered. Her body shook with shock and fear. 'He's a Fury, Phoenix Guard and Spiral Hand. That's why they locked him away down here.'

  'What do we do?' Claws asked.

  Wind Talker flipped the torch around and swiftly smacked Hidden Voice on the back of the head, rendering him unconscious.

  'What the hell did you do that for?' Stalker snapped at Wind Talker.

  'He's a Fury and Spiral Hand,' he replied bluntly.

  'He's a hundred years old and half dead. I don't think he poses any threat to us.'

  'We don't know that,' he replied, a little more softly. 'We can't risk him hearing what we say now.'

  'How on earth is he ever going to trust us again now that we've knocked him out?' Stalker hissed, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

  'Stalker,' Eyes said gently. 'We need to formulate a plan and it would be prudent to do so out of earshot of him. For now, at least, he is still our prisoner.'

  'Prisoner?' Stalker glared at him. 'You mean we're taking him into protective custody. We need to fix him. That's what we're doing here.'

  'No, it's not,' Eyes replied coolly. 'We are here to heal the house. Not him. It is the human family that need saving, not this wretch.'

  'What do we do with him?' Weaver asked, her voice soft and unreadable.

  'We should kill him,' Wind Talker said, his voice absolutely void of any emotion. He may as well have been suggesting what they eat for lunch. Stalker was speechless.

  'No,' Eyes said firmly. 'We need to find out if anyone knows him and we need to know why the Blue Moon kept him alive, rather than just killing him,' Eyes replied.

  'Let's take him to Father Ash,' Wind Talker suggested, his voice calm.

  'Father Ash?' Stalker asked.

  'He's the only expert on Spiral Hand that we know and he may be able to help extract all the information we need.' Stalker gawked at him. She knew he meant torture.

  'Good, let's do it,' Eyes said, his voice ringing with authority.

  Wind Talker scooped up Hidden Voice and slung him over his shoulder. He and Eyes set off along the passage but the others held back.

  'I don't like this at all,' Stalker whispered.

  'Neither do I,' Claws agreed as he coiled up the rope.

  'It's the only plan we have,' Weaver said gently. 'We need answers before we know if we can trust Hidden Voice enough to rehabilitate him. If we can rehabilitate him. Like it or not, he may be too far gone.' She cast Stalker a furtive glance and set off after the others.

  'She's right, you know,' Claws said quietly and Stalker nodded in the dark. He grabbed her hand and they set off together, walking c
autiously in the pitch black towards the two bobbing torch beams ahead.

  Eyes covered Hidden Voice with a dust sheet and they locked the basement, putting everything back as they found it. They left the house and piled into the van. Stalker got in the back with Claws and Wind Talker to watch over their charge. She took off the filthy overalls that she had been wearing and thanked Artemis for her clean clothes underneath. She still stank of faeces and rot though and she felt suddenly self-conscious about seeing Father Ash in such a state.

  Eyes drove far too quickly, the urgency evident in his cornering that had them lurching about in the back, and Stalker was relieved when they screeched to a halt on gravel. She opened the van doors and Wind Talker picked up Hidden Voice and clambered out awkwardly as Eyes ran ahead and rang the doorbell.

  Father Ash answered looking calm and cool as always and looked them over with a curious expression, his head cocked to one side.

  'Oh my,' he said, staring at Hidden Voice's filthy form. 'You'd better come in.'

  They filed inside and stood awkwardly in the huge hallway as he closed the door. He signalled them to follow him down a passage that led under the grand staircase to a small spiral staircase leading down. Stalker supported Hidden Voice's head as they climbed down the steel stairs and they emerged into a kitchen that was almost entirely stainless steel.

  Wind Talker rested Hidden Voice carefully on the huge island in the centre of the kitchen and Stalker allowed herself to be touched by his apparent care and concern. 'So, what do we have here?' Father Ash asked as he perched on a high stool next to the island.

  Wind Talker tugged back the rags to reveal the tattoos and Father Ash nodded and briefly made eye contact with Wind Talker.

  'We found him on our territory,' Eyes said calmly. 'He had been locked up, we presume by our predecessors. His name is Hidden Voice. Have you heard of him?'

  'Oh yes,' Father Ash replied slowly, no trace of surprise to his voice. 'I helped hunt him down. I always wondered what happened to him.'

  Stalker's breath caught in her throat and she gaped at him. 'He was an absolute master of disguise, an expert in infiltration, the perfect spy.'

  'How did you catch him?' Wind Talker asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

  'With difficulty,' Father Ash replied with a small smirk.

  'Why didn't you execute him?' Eyes asked.

  'It wasn't up to me, he was found on Blue Moon territory and it was up to them what to do with him. They took him away.'

  'Was that on Fortune's watch?' Eyes asked, his face set in a hard expression, his teeth clenched and Stalker wished she could make this easier for him.

  'Yes,' Father Ash replied, observing Eyes shrewdly. 'It was about fifteen years ago.'

  Stalker tried to make eye contact with Eyes but he stared resolutely at Hidden Voice. 'I did oversee him being branded with the spiral tattoo, however,' Father Ash added. 'We used to do that to all the Spiral Hand that we uncovered, just in case.'

  Stalker bit back the urge to ask him if he had that tattoo.

  'We need to get information out of him,' Wind Talker said, clearing his throat.

  Stalker felt her stomach lurch. She couldn't think what they could hope to get out of him. He'd been hidden away for years, any information he'd acquired was irrelevant now, even if he was sane enough to recall anything.

  'I see,' Father Ash said, his eyes narrowed. 'And you wanted to do this at my house?'

  'We thought you might be able to help, we thought you would know something about him, which you do.' Wind Talker was very calm and business-like, not allowing himself to be drawn into a disagreement with this extremely powerful elder.

  'Well, I've told you all I know. I have to admit that I am curious myself as to what he might have to say after all these years.' Father Ash swept away, moving to a steel cabinet on the far side of the kitchen. Stalker watched him carefully as he opened a drawer and pulled out a syringe, needle and small bottle of clear liquid. She glanced around again and saw that there was no oven in the room, just cupboards and two large fridges and on one wall was a display of knives that didn't look like typical kitchen knives. She swallowed hard, acutely aware now that this was not a kitchen.

  Father Ash returned with the loaded syringe and set about locating a vein.

  'What is that?' she asked before he could insert the needle.

  'Adrenaline, to wake him up,' Father Ash replied, looking her up and down. She shrank under his gaze and shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

  He stuck the needle into Hidden Voice's arm and slowly pushed the plunger. Hidden Voice's arm twitched and his eyes flickered under their closed lids. Slowly he began to regain consciousness and Stalker held her breath. His eyes opened and squinted against the glaring light over the table.

  'He's been in the pitch black for years, this is too bright. Can we turn the lights down?' Stalker implored, her eyes meeting those of Father Ash. Hidden Voice followed her gaze and looked up into the face of the elder.

  His entire body went rigid for the briefest moment and then he began to shake violently. He scrambled frantically on the steel counter, his nails scratching at the edges as he shuffled away from Father Ash. 'Calm down,' Stalker called out. 'It's okay, you're safe.' Everyone stood back in surprise as Hidden Voice convulsed violently and moaned in distress. His eyes met Stalker's and for just a second she saw on his face as clear as words, “No, I'm not”.

  His body suddenly jerked and thick, black fur erupted all over his skin.

  'He's shifting,' Father Ash said calmly. 'Hold him down.' The Lightning Lords rushed forward and grabbed Hidden Voice, pinning him down on the table. Stalker had her hands on his right leg and it shuddered violently under her grip as his muscles and bones shifted. His Agrius form was wiry and lean, not bulky like most shifters, but his muscles hadn't completely atrophied from lack of use and he struggled hard against them. Father Ash moved quickly back to the drawers and returned a moment later with another syringe. He jabbed Hidden Voice in the neck and the poor wretch fell suddenly still. Slowly his body returned to its human form and he lay still, breathing softly. 'I don't think you're going to get anything coherent out of him,' Father Ash said coolly as they all stepped back.

  Stalker glanced at him with concern in her eyes. Hidden Voice had been okay until he laid eyes on Father Ash. It seemed likely that he remembered Father Ash bringing him down and remembered what he was once capable of. That terrified him, to be back in his captor's company and he had completely lost control.

  'Let's take him elsewhere,' she suggested quietly. Eyes nodded in agreement.

  'Thank you for your help,' Eyes said, squaring up to Father Ash and offering him his hand. Father Ash took it and they shook hands firmly. Wind Talker lifted Hidden Voice again and they left the house, returning quickly to the van. Stalker looked back at Father Ash in his front doorway as Claws slammed the van doors shut. What was that glint in his eye?

  'Where are we going to take him?' Claws asked. 'We can't go back to the healing house and we really shouldn't take him to Grove Street.'

  'The beach,' Wind Talker said. 'There's a cave not far from here, it should be pretty private.'

  Eyes nodded solemnly.

  'And we're going to wake him and question him, right?' Stalker asked, her voice unsteady. She looked from one worried face to the next, only Wind Talker's remained impassive.

  'Yes,' Eyes said firmly. 'I have to go to a meeting with Theodore now, though.' He looked at his watch and a pained expression crossed his face.

  'Can't you cancel?' Stalker asked, frowning.

  'Not really, we're meeting with members of the city council.'

  'Right,' Claws said steadily. 'Not to worry. We'll get back to Grove Street and drop you off with your car then head back to the beach and you can meet us there later. We'll keep him sedated until then.'

  Stalker nodded, feeling reassured by Claws' calm authority.

  Eyes drove the van back to St. Mark's and pulled up outside 32 Grove St
reet. Stalker clambered out of the van after him and caught hold of his arm, halting him on his way to his car.

  'You okay?' she asked quietly. He looked down at her hand gripping his arm and raised his eyebrows. She released him, feeling chastised by that one look.

  'Yeah,' he replied. 'I'm good. Frustrated about having to leave, some things never change, eh?'

  'Yeah. Don't worry, we've got this. See you later. Good luck with the meeting.'

  Eyes got into his car and sped away. Stalker went back to the van and climbed inside.

  'Claws, Weaver,' Wind Talker said firmly. 'You should patrol, make sure everything is as it should be here and check over the family's home too, make sure there are no negative side effects of us removing him.'

  Weaver glanced anxiously at Stalker, then nodded at Wind Talker.

  'Of course,' she said softly. She moved to the back door of the van and started to climb out.

  'You okay?' Claws asked Stalker as he moved past her towards the door. She nodded in reply and he left with no further word. Claws slammed the van door shut and Stalker climbed into the front to sit beside Wind Talker.

  'So,' she said as he started the engine. 'Just you and me with this guy then?'

  He glanced at her and then set off without a word. Stalker kept looking in the back to check on Hidden Voice as Wind Talker drove them back to the beach. The ancient, broken shifter didn't even stir. When they arrived, Wind Talker drove the van down a crooked track that went almost all the way down to the beach from the road above. The last few meters were just narrow enough for people on foot, but not for a vehicle, but below the bank of soft sand and long grass the van was out of sight from the road. They were at the very end of this stretch of golden sand, the tide was out and a high cliff rose above them.

  Together, Stalker and Wind Talker pulled Hidden Voice out of the back of the van and carried him down onto the beach. Wind Talker led the way to a cave in the cliff. It had a huge opening facing the sea and small rocks littered the entrance. Wind whipped her faded blue hair around her face and stung her eyes, and the waves crashed against the cliffs just around the sweeping bend. She didn't know how long they had until the tide came in and that made her stomach flip.

 

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