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

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Tides of Spring: A Dark Shapeshifter Urban Fantasy (Echoes of the Past Book 3) Page 25

by H B Lyne


  After an hour or so, she swooped down to the ground and landed in human form just ahead of the rest of the pack.

  'We're nearly at the city centre,' she said, a little out of breath. 'Are we sure we want to do this? We've always been warned not to go there. I could see structures and movement, lots of movement.'

  'I don't think we have much of a choice. Unless we cross the veil,' Weaver said, her eyes darting between pack mates.

  'Is anyone else severely creeped out by this place?' Claws asked, glancing around, his shoulders giving a shudder. 'Where are all the fae? We should have seen some signs of life, right?'

  'There must be shifters, or something in China Town,' Wind Talker said softly. 'There must be, I mean just look at St. Catherine's and where we're about to go. That's what happens when there are no shifters to control things. No one has shaped Hepethia here, as far as we can tell, of course. They may have shaped it to look like we would expect it to look. But someone is routinely clearing fae and demons out of here, or has them tightly controlled to not show themselves.'

  'We can't concern ourselves with that right now,' Eyes said. 'Are we going into the city centre?'

  'We have to cross it to get to Shalebrook,' Weaver said with conviction.

  'Well, no we don't,' Eyes said. 'We could skirt west and cross the river into Old Town, then cross again south of the centre. Or we could cross the veil right here.'

  'Aren't you curious?' Weaver asked, her head cocked to one side as she eyed him carefully.

  'Of course I am, insanely so, but I'm not sure this is the best time to allow curiosity to overrule our task.'

  'If what we've been told about the centre is even half true, we may be lucky to get through it alive,' Stalker said, her voice low and dark.

  'Let's get a bit closer and see with our own eyes,' Claws said, his voice slightly too bright. Eyes sensed the force behind it, but he looked at his pack brother with gratitude for his diplomacy.

  'Agreed,' Wind Talker said, and he set off, leading the way.

  There was a jagged crop of bright green aventurine in their path, and Eyes climbed carefully, using his hands to grasp the rough surface. Stalker and Weaver practically skipped up the steep slope and he glanced at them enviously as he struggled to find a good grip. Claws climbed a few feet, then slid back to the ground. Eyes looked over his shoulder and saw Claws shaking his head. He sighed and grudgingly shifted form, flapping his wide wings to fly his way to the top of the slope. He landed in his human form, stumbling slightly and Stalker grabbed him and helped him to find his balance. Eyes looked at their serious faces, and scrambled past Wind Talker to the top. Claws helped him to his feet and he in turn helped Wind Talker up the last part.

  He brushed the greenish dust from his hands before finally looking out at the view. The aventurine fell away from them in a steep slope down into a rocky valley, which gradually morphed into rough cobbles and then broken paving slabs. Huge towers of concrete, glass and metal erupted from the ground and stood at awkward angles, some propping others up, others seeming to have settled that way, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. There was a loud moaning sound and Eyes caught movement at the corner of his eye. His gaze flickered towards it and settled on something vast and monstrous lurching between the buildings. It was like something from a horror film, some sort of apocalyptic kaiju story, where a giant creature from the deep had surfaced and rampaged through a metropolis, destroying everything in its wake.

  To the east, not too far from where they stood, was a huge barricade. A concrete wall stretched away into the distance, standing easily fifty feet tall. In front of it were huge wooden spikes, held together with vast coils of thick, barbed wire. The horrifying city centre was pressed up against the barricade, but it looked sturdy enough to keep anything out and as Eyes watched, he saw a shimmering against the rough urban landscape, like heat haze, and he wondered what magical protection might be repelling the inhabitants of the city centre from getting too close to Burnside.

  'The Glass Wolves have got themselves covered,' Stalker said softly, clearly looking at the same thing as Eyes. He grunted in reply.

  A hideous chorus of screeching voices echoed across the wasteland between the city and the Lightning Lords, and Eyes returned his gaze to the jumble of broken buildings and strutting crystals that erupted from the broken paving. A mass of small black shapes moved between the buildings, clambering over one another, and up the side of one of the half-fallen buildings. It was too hard to tell from this distance, but Eyes got the impression that these creatures were fighting, or eating something massive, swamping it with their sheer numbers.

  'We can't go in there,' Eyes said firmly.

  'No, we can't,' Wind Talker agreed.

  A shudder went through Eyes as he thought about all of this being separated from humanity by just a thin, metaphysical veil. One tiny gap, one flaw in the skin of reality and it could all come flooding through. He swallowed hard and turned away. He couldn't look any more.

  'Let's find another way,' Eyes whispered.

  'Let's cross the veil,' Wind Talker ordered. He used his talisman to find them a safe location. It was a busy Monday morning in the city centre, so finding somewhere secluded was a challenge. When he guided them across, Eyes was surprised to find himself in a narrow alley at the edge of China Town, a row of huge waste bins blocking the end from the busy street beyond. A cat ran past him, its bell tinkling lightly and he watched it disappear around the corner.

  Stalker shifted into the form of a collie dog, and sniffed at the ground. Wind Talker led them out of the alley and Eyes cast his gaze to the ground, looking for the cat, but it was gone. He caught a glimpse of a playing card under one of the bin wheels, a crushed and dirty two of hearts. He gave a derivative snort as he passed it, and turned his attention to navigating the bustling street.

  The pavements were narrow and the road was filled with cars chugging slowly along. People rushed past in both directions and the Lightning Lords picked their way in single file through the throng, Stalker at Weaver's heel. They took a direct route across the city centre, making use of footpaths and back streets. Stalker seemed the most confident of the route and Eyes remembered a time when he would frequently visit this part of the city, before he knew anything about shifters, or territory, or Hepethia.

  There was an excellent pub down a small street behind the city's gallery, a gnarled old Tudor building, reported to be the oldest tavern in Caerton. It had low beams, served real ales and housed a juke box full of classic rock music. He smiled at a memory of an afternoon spent in there with his friends from university, friends he had long since lost touch with. It seemed a lifetime ago.

  He walked briskly behind Stalker and Wind Talker and tried to tune out the noise of the city. Soon they had passed the major landmarks and were entering unfamiliar territory. The disordered jumble of public buildings and offices gave way to neater rows of terraced houses, punctuated by shops.

  Stalker led the way, sniffing the ground and walking slowly. She stopped abruptly and the others came to a halt behind her. Eyes could feel it, the tingle on the back of his neck that told him he could go no further, ahead lay claimed.

  'Shall we follow the boundary to somewhere private?' Weaver asked. Wind Talker nodded and they set off back the way they had come, Stalker leading the way into the next street, carefully following the boundary markings. They found a small, fenced off park, surrounded by trees only a few meters from the territory border.

  'I wonder what their defences in Hepethia are like,' Eyes mused. He couldn't imagine the Factory Boys having anything as grand as the Glass Wolves' wall, but maybe he underestimated them.

  Wind Talker held out his talisman and Eyes took it, palming the copper eye. His vision distorted, like slipping on sunglasses, and he saw two layers of the world simultaneously. The park in Hepethia was an overgrown courtyard, surrounded by tumbledown sandstone walls. Cobblestones covered in moss and interspaced with growths of weeds and grass lined the grou
nd. Beyond the park were derelict buildings, hanging over the edges of the courtyard like ancient watchmen. It looked deserted. 'Okay,' Eyes said softly. 'We can cross here.'

  He stepped across the veil, still clutching the talisman and turned to see his pack mates crossing the veil behind him; the human world now a dark shadow behind the bright layer of Hepethia. The sun shone on the little courtyard, the surrounding buildings, casting long shadows across the cobbles. Stalker had shifted form as she crossed the veil, from the collie into a fox.

  Eyes handed the talisman back to Wind Talker. He bent down next to Stalker and looked her in the eye. Her eyes were faintly amber, they reminded him of Shadow's Step for a moment, and he wondered if she chose to make them that colour on purpose. He wasn't sure how much control she had over the details of each form she took. 'Can you call out for us?' he asked her. She gave a gruff bark and he stood back.

  Stalker lifted her snout and cried into the air, part howl, part bark. The intention was clear to him, even in his human form. It demanded attention, but not antagonism. There was a flicker of movement on the far side of the wall facing the pack boundary, but it was gone before Eyes could tell what had caused it. They waited for a few minutes, no one spoke and the air was filled with tension that lifted the hairs on his neck. Stalker resumed her human form and leaned against a wall with her arms crossed while they waited.

  He felt their approach before any of his physical senses picked anything up. He just knew that the Factory Boys were on their way. A minute later two young men rounded a corner, scowls etched onto their hard faces. Eyes recognised them from the Danegeld, they were identical twins. They had closely-shaved heads and piercing eyes. One wore a cap backwards, the other had on a shiny, baggy jacket that reminded Eyes of something pop stars in his childhood wore.

  'Who the fuck are you lot?' one of them snarled.

  'We're the Lightning Lords of St. Mark's,' Wind Talker replied calmly.

  Eyes understood their abruptness, it wasn't really the done thing to turn up on another pack's doorstep like this. 'I apologise for this unannounced arrival. We're on urgent pack business and are tracking information. We were told to go to the Shale Trading Post. We assumed it was on your territory. Is that correct? And would it be possible for us to enter?'

  The two Factory Boys exchanged wary glances. One of them gave a small shrug and the other cocked an eyebrow. Eyes got the impression that a hurried telepathic dialogue was taking place.

  'It is,' the twin in the backwards cap snapped. His name was Old Scar, Eyes felt it whispered to him, his ability unaffected by losing the Alphaship. 'Yeah, you can come onto our territory to visit the market. Other packs do sometimes. We'll escort you in and out, mind. No tricks, no trouble.'

  'Of course,' Wind Talker replied at once.

  The twins beckoned the Lightning Lords towards them, and Eyes led the way, climbing over the low wall of the courtyard. The old buildings leaned close, blotting out the sky, and the Factory Boy twins led them through tight, twisting passageways. Eyes felt as though he were a schoolboy exploring a ruined castle. A few minutes later they emerged suddenly onto a modern street, with a sheer wall of crystal lining the opposite side in both directions.

  'Keeps trouble out,' the young shifter in the shiny jacket said abruptly, nodding first at the twisted old castle behind them and then at the wall before them.

  'From the city centre, you mean?' Eyes asked. He shrugged in reply and set off along the street. Eyes glanced at Claws, who was hiding a smile. They followed their guides to a very thin gap in the wall, barely wide enough for Wind Talker, the biggest of their company, to fit through. On the other side of the high wall was raw Hepethia, untouched by shifters, as far as anyone could tell. Elementals moved freely among the jutting crystals, starting little fires, whipping up the wind and drenching the fires to put them out. A neat cycle that repeated itself over and over again across the landscape.

  Eyes wondered whether it was laziness, or deliberate conservation on the part of this contradictory pack. To the west he could see the bank of the river, which wound its way through Hepethia in a perfect reflection of its human world existence.

  To the south there were buildings, and the Factory Boys led them in that direction, skirting around the inhabited crystal plain.

  'How did you get here?' asked the twin in the jacket. 'You never crossed the city did 'ya?'

  'Not on this side, no,' Eyes replied. 'Have you ever tried it?'

  'We go in sometimes, when we have to.'

  'You've survived to tell the tale.'

  'I don't recommend it for young'uns,' smirked the lad, who looked no older than twenty. Eyes raised an eyebrow, then remembered that he had only shifted for the first time less than five months previously. It was possible this boy had been a shifter for a decade or more.

  They approached the little cluster of old buildings by the river. They looked like they had been shaped by shifters several generations ago, and were showing signs of age. Little patches of crystal peeked through the sandstone, where Hepethia was reclaiming the stone. There were half a dozen buildings of varying sizes and shapes. But one stood out; right at the heart of the cluster was a circular, three-storey building with a grand, domed roof and hundreds of windows. It had steps leading up to a huge set of double doors that were propped open and Eyes could hear the gentle murmuring of a crowd within.

  'Here we are,' said Old Scar. 'We'll wait out here for 'ya.'

  'Thank you,' Eyes replied, giving him a nod. He led his pack up the stone steps. Stalker fell into step beside him.

  'That has to have been the strangest experience in Hepethia I have ever had,' she muttered.

  Eyes sniggered as they walked in through the open doors. His mouth dropped open as he surveyed the scene. The interior of the building was wide open and circular. Light spilled down through the domed, glass ceiling, shining on all of the gold fixtures. The floor was wooden, and had a spring to it, and stairs led up from the centre to a gallery halfway up the high walls and all of the banisters shone gold. The noise echoed around the vast hall, cries, jeers and shouts rang out from sellers and buyers alike. Small tables circled the hall, laid with wares of all kinds, from exotic-looking fruits, to stunning and intricate jewellery.

  Eyes had never seen so much activity in Hepethia, not even at the Hundred Court, which had, he would hazard a guess, a hundred attendees. This was so much busier. The fae, demons and constructs here were bustling about, moving from one stall to the next, and each creature was so alien that it took a moment for Eyes to take in what he was seeing.

  Stalker made a small noise in her throat beside him and he glanced at her. 'I take it back,' she whispered. 'This is the strangest experience in Hepethia I've ever had.'

  Wind Talker brushed past Eyes and led them into the heart of the market, moving slowly through the crowd. They didn't seem to be drawing any particular attention by being there, Eyes wondered how common it was for shifters to visit the market.

  'Can I help you?' a female voice asked in clipped tones. Eyes looked for the source, and found a slender, green fae, decorated in silks and beads. Her long red hair flowed around her head and shoulders, as if she were under water.

  'I hope so,' Wind Talker replied. The pack came to a halt and drew close, pressed together by the crowd around them.

  'Are you here to trade?' the fae asked, looking at each of them expectantly.

  'Yes,' Wind Talker said curtly.

  'We'd like to access some information in the vault. Can you tell us how we might go about that, please?' Eyes asked, putting on his most polite and professional air.

  'Do you have an account?'

  'No, we don't.'

  'You need an account to trade,' she said, a soft smile on her thin lips. 'I will need to take a deposit.'

  Eyes glanced around at the others.

  'Do we have anything valuable?' he asked quietly.

  Weaver put a hand into one of her many pockets and pulled out a large topaz ball.
Eyes recognised it at once, it was the Sun that Weaver had stolen from The Witches when she had escaped captivity.

  'I was going to suggest trading this for the information,' she said softly. 'But I think it will do better for this. I suspect we'll need something very different for the information.'

  'Follow me, please,' the fae said, then turned and drifted away, the crowd parting for her. Eyes led the way after her, taking advantage of the gap before it closed behind them. She led them to the stairs, but rather than going up, she strode around them to another staircase leading down. Eyes gripped the gold bannister and ran down the steep stairs after the rapidly moving fae, his pack just behind him.

  The lower floor of the trading post was lit by shimmering torches on the walls and shafts of sunlight down the stairs and through a gap in the ceiling to one side of the circular room above.

  There was a wooden desk in the centre of the room, which was otherwise empty. Small doors lined the walls, however and Eyes could sense movement behind them, along with whispering voices. The fae lit a small lamp, and took out a metal box from a drawer in the desk. 'Do you have the deposit?'

  'Here.' Weaver moved forward with the stone in her open palm. The fae smiled, showing rows of sharp teeth. Eyes flinched in surprise. She took the topaz and put it gently in the box, then slid some parchment across the desk towards Eyes.

  'I just need a signature from each of you.'

  Eyes picked up the parchment and looked it over. It was a contract, but a simple one.

  'It's okay,' he said, glancing around at the others. 'She's not asking for our souls or anything. It's just fairly standard stuff about agreeing to abide by the rules of the Trading Post, take up issues with the management and so on. The rules are here too, they should be simple enough to follow.'

 

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