by H B Lyne
Can you see?
It was her voice, projected into his mind, just like the telepathy they had shared when they were Blue Moon. He closed his eyes and focused on the images she was sharing with him. Once they came into focus he nodded his head and he felt her relax beside him.
He tried to make sense of what he was seeing. It was like looking through one of those fish-eye lenses, a strange panoramic view that was curved at the edges. The image bobbed and switched back and forth sharply, like the moving head of a bird. He was seeing through a crow's eyes. He was looking down on the substation in Hepethia, Glimmering Wires sat on the throne in the centre as electricity elementals whizzed in and out, feeding him. Suddenly, the elemental rose up out of the throne and dispersed into the pylon around him, every cable glowed bright blue and pulsed rapidly. The fae had transported himself into the power lines, he could travel along them.
Once he had vacated the station, something else took his place. A flickering white fae rushed forward to take the throne. This must be Charge-of-Power, the one member of the Sparkblood Conglomerate that they hadn't yet met. As the smaller electricity elementals scurried towards the throne to deposit their offerings, Charge-of-Power stretched towards them and grabbed the packages of power from them, shovelling them into his mouth greedily.
The crow suddenly took flight, soaring over the substation and off over raw Hepethia, in all its crystalline glory. It flew north, Eyes recognised the tangled maze of red brick houses beneath him, the one that the Blue Moon had created to entrap rogue demons escaping from St. Catherine's. The factories of Northgate loomed and the bird swooped down to fly over them. It landed on a tall fence and bobbed its head, giving Eyes a view of a vast car park that had deep trenches dug into it. A bright, full moon hung in the sky, shining blue over the war zone and Sparking Clank lumbered about at the factory doorway, his followers scurrying under foot.
Eyes yanked his hand away from Stalker's and his eyelids popped open, he glared at her in alarm.
'What was that?' he hissed. Stalker looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise.
'I don't know.'
'What's going on? How did you do that?'
Stalker looked anxiously at Weaver, who still sat peacefully. The others stood over her, looking around at Eyes, confusion on their faces.
'I'm not sure. I figured out a while ago that I sometimes shared Weaver's visions when she had them in her sleep and when we came out here to commune with the crow fae she decided to try and bring on a vision in meditation. It worked and I shared it. Somehow I was able to project it onto you three as well.'
'It must be part of your growing abilities. Weaver's getting stronger too, she's never had a vision while awake before,' Wind Talker explained in a gentle whisper.
'The connection's gone now, though,' Stalker said, frustration lacing her voice. 'I need to be focused.'
'Sorry,' Eyes mumbled.
'Are the crows giving her this vision?' Claws asked.
'I think so, it seemed to be from one of their points of view,' Stalker replied.
'But was it literal? Is it something they've seen or is it symbolic?' Eyes asked, looking quickly from one pack mate to another.
'It felt like a combination,' Claws said. 'That last moment though, before we came out of it, that was symbolic.'
They all nodded in agreement. It was something to do with the Blue Moon. Again. Weaver stirred and Eyes' attention went straight to her. The crows took flight and disappeared into the black sky. Stalker rushed to Weaver's side and put a hand on her arm as she came out of her trance.
'That was so weird,' Weaver said, as Stalker helped her to her feet.
'What did we miss? At the end?' Stalker urged gently.
'Sparking Clank and Glimmering Wires are at war, it's their nature. Glimmering Wires is a fae from Alfheim, the realm of nature fae. He's been corrupted in Hepethia, influenced by his proximity to humanity. Sparking Clank is from Nidavellir, the Dwarven realm, he's a pure construct, innately at war with nature. The two of them were summoned here and told to share a throne. It was never going to end well. They have this strange relationship now, where they share the throne, each trying to grab power from it, along with Charge-of-Power, but their minions fight this nightly battle over smaller bits of territory.'
'It was the Blue Moon that summoned them.' Eyes stated blankly. He had no space inside for surprise at anything they learned about their old pack now.
'Yes,' Weaver replied.
'They must have had a good reason,' Stalker said. 'Probably to do with harnessing the grid and needing different aspects of power and electricity.'
Eyes smiled, he admired her optimism, though he didn't share it. He looked up at their ally, the shimmering dragon watching the scene with interested eyes.
'Can you add anything?' he asked, trying to keep the heat from his voice.
'Glimmering Wires is neglecting his duties. Something is drawing power from the web but he is ignoring it.'
'Can you fight him?' Eyes asked, suddenly struck by the obvious.
'Only if you weaken him first.' The fae bobbed his head and flickered briefly, before taking wing and soaring away.
'How do we do that?' Eyes yelled after him, but he didn't respond.
'Well,' Claws said, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. 'If he can travel around the network, we might be able to isolate him somewhere, cut him off from the flow of power. That would weaken him.'
'Genius!' Stalker said, grinning.
'What about the others?' Eyes asked.
'We could try to recruit them, get them to fight against Glimmering Wires,' Claws suggested.
'What about after the fight though? Unchained Lightning won't want to share the throne,' Stalker said.
'We offer them their own thrones. Sparking Clank gets his factory in Northgate, Charge-of-Power gets somewhere else, or submits to Unchained Lightning.' Eyes spoke with authority. He caught Wind Talker's seething eye and sighed. 'Do you agree, Alpha?'
'Yes,' Wind Talker snapped. 'We'll go to Sparking Clank now.' He stormed to the door and flung it open. Eyes glanced at the others and they all exchanged furtive glances before following Wind Talker through the house and out into the street. They locked the house and set off at a brisk jog north towards the factories. The twisted streets were dark and quiet, the buildings seemed to breathe as the five shifters made their way quickly between them. Eyes thought of Holds-to-the-Light, the street lamp dragon that had nearly killed him, and wondered where he was, if he was prowling these streets somewhere. He briefly entertained the notion of a repeat encounter, this time with Wind Talker on the receiving end of an attack. Guilt snapped him out of the vengeful image and he gave his head a shake as he picked up his pace to keep up with the others.
They reached the area that roughly corresponded with Northgate, past the maze of terraces and across an open crystal field, to where the factories worked tirelessly. At some point in time, shifters had made this a haven for constructs like Sparking Clank, they had created a habitat and allowed it to be populated. It had taken several months, but he was starting to see how little he had understood shifter life when the Blue Moon were alive. He had taken so much for granted, and it was taking some time to accept that things were very different from how they had appeared then. But he was sure that Fortune would have given him more lessons in how things worked in Hepethia had he been given the opportunity. Their time together was far too short, they had been denied the chance to get to know each other properly and Fortune had been taken from him just as he was beginning to be a father to him.
They came to the right place, it was instantly recognisable as exactly how it had appeared in Weaver's vision. A vast battlefield stood between the fence and the factory building, deep trenches ran the width of the car park and stationary guns were set up at intervals.
'It's probably mined,' Eyes said out loud, his train of thought leading him to that conclusion.
'Yeah,' Claws said softly. 'Well, Stalker and
I can fly over it. What about you three?'
Eyes glanced at him, he had never known Claws to volunteer to shift before. Claws gave him a defiant glare, daring him to make a big point of his suggestion. Eyes smirked and shook his head.
'We'll have to be careful,' Wind Talker said gruffly. Stalker and Claws both shifted into owls and took flight, circling overhead. Eyes yanked at the chain-link fence and pulled it away from the post. He held it back for Weaver and Wind Talker and filed through behind them. They spread out and started to pick their way carefully across the battlefield. The tarmac had been ripped up and deep trenches gouged into the ground and spirals of barbed wire littered the field.
As Eyes took his first steps a machine gun spat bullets at the ground next to him. He leaped away from them and smoothly shifted into the Agrius, bounding on four giant paws right over a trench. He was aware on the edge of his senses of his pack mates doing likewise. The rapid fire of the machine gun dulled his hearing, echoing somewhere in the distance of his consciousness. He took another huge jump over another trench and landed hard on a wider space. As his back foot left the ground again he felt movement under it and heard a click. The explosion tossed him into the air, limbs flailing and he landed hard on his back twenty feet closer to his goal.
Eyes scrambled to his feet, mercifully unharmed by the mine, but for singed fur up his legs. He took a step before he felt the impact of a shot in his thigh, followed by a string of them up his right side. He stood stock still as the bullets pummelled his body. Then fell to his knees. Black spots appeared in his vision and a dull echo of gunfire filled his mind.
Suddenly there were hands grabbing at him and dragging him across the ground, they dropped him and he rolled over to look up at his rescuer. Weaver and Wind Talker both stood over him, looking gravely concerned. Weaver's face was pale and he noticed blood pouring from her shoulder.
Stalker and Claws appeared behind them, they must have reached the safe zone right in front of the factory, though he could hear the last echoes of gunfire dying on the battlefield. His pulse was deafening in his ears, but he could feel his body fighting to heal and forced himself to his knees.
'You've been shot, take it easy,' Weaver urged.
Eyes growled at her and looked down at his aching thigh. The bullet that was wedged into his muscle was moving, he felt it pushing against blood vessels. His body was healing from the inside out, pushing out the foreign body. The misshapen metal appeared at the entry site and fell to the floor with a clink. The other wounds up his side were minor and were healing just as rapidly. He shifted back into his human form, the pain intensified but he suppressed it and got to his feet.
'Any other casualties?' Wind Talker asked, looking around at the others. Weaver's shoulder had stopped bleeding and seemed to be almost healed, the others looked fine. Given the situation, they seemed to have done well.
'What do you want?' A voice snarled nearby, startling Eyes. They all turned to look at the doorway. Sparking Clank glared at them through yellow eyes as he separated himself from the metal of the door itself. 'I know you, I've seen you before.' His eyes settled on Claws and they narrowed to slits. 'Battery boy.'
'That's right,' Claws replied, taking the lead. 'We understand that all of this is to keep out Glimmering Wires and his army.' Claws nodded towards the trenches and machine guns. Sparking Clank nodded, the plates of his neck scraping against his body and showering the ground with sparks. 'What would you say if we told you that we could do something about him? Take him out of power?'
'An interesting proposition. You are different from your predecessors.'
'Yes, we are,' Eyes said firmly. The construct looked at him carefully, he shifted his weight.
'We wish to install our own ally on the throne at the substation,' Wind Talker said, irritation in his voice. 'Would you serve Unchained Lightning and accept this territory as your own?'
Sparking Clank growled, his tank-like body trembled and he lurched forward a step. The Lightning Lords took a reflexive step back as one.
'I serve no one, not now, not ever.'
'I apologise,' Wind Talker said, instantly humbling and dipping his head. 'Would you ally with us in defeating Glimmering Wires?'
'You must do something for me, give me a reason to trust you. Come with me.' Sparking Clank turned around, every part of his body swivelling, his plates adjusting so that his body switched direction on top of his awkward legs without him actually turning in a circle. He stomped into the factory, the metal door grinding open to admit him. Wind Talker glanced at Eyes, a flicker of concern on his face.
'Can you walk?' His voice was almost tender. Eyes was taken aback and nodded in reply, his side still ached, but he was well enough to walk. Wind Talker led the way inside and they followed the construct as he clanged his way through the vast building. The lighting was low, with no pesky humans to consider during the night shift in this Hepethian habitat. It was filled with machinery that rumbled, clanked and ground, constantly in motion. In the human world, the factory in roughly this position made windows and doors, but here in Hepethia it was purely symbolic of industry in general. They made their way carefully between machines and production lines, and followed Sparking Clank out through a set of corrugated iron doors. Eyes gasped when he saw that they had emerged onto a railway platform. It was lit with old fashioned gas lamps, and the tracks were overgrown and disused. The platform itself was dirty and deserted, the paint line along the platform edge was faded and completely worn away in places. On the far side of the twin tracks was a grassy wasteland, and in a partially hidden siding sat an ancient steam engine, with bits hanging off it and a thick layer of grime over every surface.
'This is where I was born,' Sparking Clank said, his voice a rumble. 'That engine was my sister. She was destroyed by a demon hybrid called Limb Chewer.' He spat the words like they tasted foul on his mechanical tongue. 'Destroy Limb Chewer for me, and I will consider allying with you.'
Eyes glanced carefully at Wind Talker. His face was often difficult to read, he had inherited Flames-First-Guardian's stoicism, although to the best of his knowledge there had been no biological connection between them. A muscle twitched in the Alpha's cheek.
'Where will we find Limb Chewer?' he asked.
'I don't know,' Sparking Clank replied. 'If I knew that I would take care of it myself.'
'Okay,' Wind Talker replied with resolve. 'We'll see what we can do. Thank you.'
The construct nodded his head and turned to gaze at his beloved sister's remains. The Lightning Lords quietly walked away, back through the factory and out onto the battlefield.
'I'm not crossing that again,' Eyes hissed.
'I think we'll be able to walk away,' Weaver said. 'It's a defence system against unknown intruders. We're leaving and we're known now.' Eyes raised an eyebrow at her. She winked at him and transformed into her cat form, then set off at a trot across the war-like terrain. Nothing happened, no gunfire, no exploding mines. Stalker glanced at him and shook her head. She wasn't going to risk it, and shifted into an owl to take flight. Claws watched her go, an apprehensive look on his face. He set his jaw in a determined expression and set off on foot. Wind Talker and Eyes exchanged glances before following, cautiously.
They all reached the other side intact, and Eyes looked at his watch; it was nearly 2am. He rubbed a weary hand over his brow. It had been a long day followed by a difficult night. His side still ached, he needed to sleep in order for it to finish healing properly.
'We'll call it a night,' Wind Talker said as they slid out through the gap in the fence. 'But in the morning we're going to find Charge-of-Power and secure his allegiance, then we find Limb Chewer.'
'Agreed,' Eyes said, his voice thick with fatigue. He was feeling it all now, the adrenaline from the fight with Chloe and the horrific crossing to get to the factory had left his system and the pain and exhaustion were taking hold. Weaver grabbed hold of him and supported him as he started to slump.
'Are
you all right?' she asked quietly. He shook his head. 'Come back to Grove Street with us.' He grunted in reply and allowed her and Claws to half carry him back across St. Mark's. He didn't want to tell them that he had no choice but to go with them. That conversation would have to wait for another day. Stalker saw them all into the house from the air, then took off without a word. 'She'll be back,' Weaver said softly, a knowing smile on her lips. Why did she always know exactly what her pack mates were doing? Was it part of her special insight from Artemis? Or just female intuition? Eyes was dragged down the hall and deposited gently on the sofa. His form shifted reflexively into that of a wolf and he fell asleep, safe inside his animal mind, away from the chaotic misery of his human existence.
Chapter Twenty-One
Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow
Stalker crossed the veil in flight and landed softly on her human feet in a dark alley at the back of Rhys's house. She approached the back door and tried it, it was locked. She checked carefully to make sure she was still safe to shift, and forced her body down into the form of a moth, gradually folding herself into the tiny creature. She had never tried to go smaller than this, flies and fleas seemed an impossible task, given how much effort it took to compress herself into an animal even this small. She flew up to Rhys's bedroom window, a skylight in the sloped roof of his terraced house. It was open just a crack, which was enough for her to crawl through.
He lay asleep in bed, under a crisp white sheet, his bare back gleaming in the cool light of the night. She shifted form and stood over him, watching him breathing softly. His tattoos snaked and weaved over his skin, impossible to read in this light. She thought of the cloak that shrouded him, hiding his supernatural nature from everyone and everything. The only way anyone could ever glimpse the truth was if they looked right at him with a talisman like Wind Talker's, or some other way to see both the human world and Hepethia at the same time. In Hepethia, in Rhys's place would be the secrecy demon, alone, and here, like this, he looked like any other vulnerable human.