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

by H B Lyne

  Unchained Lightning flew in circles around the substation. The clouds above grew thicker and darker, hiding the moon from sight. Stalker sensed static in the air. She jumped up and grabbed hold of one of the metal supports around the throne. She sheathed her dha and climbed up the slanted pole, using the rings around it like rungs on a ladder. If the power had been running through it, no doubt she would have been electrocuted. She got to the top and climbed awkwardly onto the beam that connected two of the poles. She was level with Glimmering Wires, and got carefully to her feet. She drew her dha again and inched along to the corner. She leaped and thrust both of her swords into the mess of cables that formed the construct's body. He howled and spun around, trying to reach the monkey on his back. She clung to her swords, which were buried to their hilts in his back.

  Down below, there was a sudden sound of scraping metal on metal. She looked down and saw Sparking Clank unfolding himself from the rusted metal plates of the throne. Thunder cracked overhead and Unchained Lightning swished past her so fast that he was little more than a white blur.

  'Claws!' she shouted. There was no way he would hear over the din. She reached out with her mind instead. We have to let go!

  Are you crazy? he replied.

  Probably, still right though.

  She pulled with all her might, yanking her right dha out of the construct first. She dropped a few inches as her other dha dropped down between loosening cables. Glimmering Wires continued to thrash around wildly. The other shifters on the ground looked on helplessly.

  Her legs swung uselessly beneath her, but Stalker heaved her hips up and found purchase for her feet. She used them to push out and slide her remaining dha out of his body. She flipped over and went into free-fall, plummeting towards the ground head first. Her talisman kicked in and slowed her down to a gradual float, and she held her dha out to her sides as she glided gently to the ground. She looked up to see Claws shift form and fly away from the construct.

  Unchained Lightning struck, lashing out with his long tail and striking Glimmering Wires in the face. The two of them fell to the ground and landed in front of the throne so hard that the concrete floor cracked. Stalker and the others scrambled back out of the way, just as Sparking Clank ambled over and opened his enormous jaws. Unchained Lightning whipped around and rammed into Glimmering Wires with his large head, shoving the construct backwards, right into the waiting mouth of Sparking Clank.

  There was a shriek, a hiss, and then a bright light flared up inside Sparking Clank, peeking out between all of the plates on his body. Steam billowed out through the narrow gaps and the light faded.

  'Thank you,' the metal construct said slowly. 'I could never have done that alone.' He bowed his head to Unchained Lightning and backed away from the throne. There was a sudden bleeping noise nearby and Stalker spun around to see Charge-of-Power slinking in through the destroyed gateway.

  Unchained Lightning flared up, filling the courtyard with bright light. Lightning flashed overhead and a fork darted down to strike the fae, charging him up with infinitely more power. He expanded, then settled back to his former size. He stepped back and the throne behind him shifted form, from a chair for the humanoid figure of Glimmering Wires, to a vast platform a few feet off the ground for the huge dragon. Unchained Lightning sat down and wrapped his tail around his body. He seemed to purr, and the substation flickered to life. The poles around him started to pulse with light and little elementals crept in along the incoming wires. They left their first, very small offerings and backed away slowly, bowing.

  'Are you satisfied, Unchained Lightning?' Eyes asked, his voice carrying on the light wind.

  'Very,' their ally replied.

  Sparking Clank bowed his enormous head and folded away into the metal of the substation, disappearing from sight. Charge-of-Power let out a flurry of beeps, and Unchained Lightning zapped him with a few volts by way of a thank you for his assistance. The peculiar creature disappeared out of the gate.

  Stalker drew a shaking breath and turned to her pack mates.

  'We did it,' she whispered.

  'We did,' Eyes replied. But his expression remained serious. 'Now we just need to take care of those Witches.'

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  8th March

  The sun was high in the sky, soaking the city in the first truly warm day of the spring. The flower beds that decorated much of the city centre were beginning to bloom, after being cold and bare all winter.

  The city was buzzing with anticipation and frustration, as major roads were closed and routes diverted for the construction of the new underground railway. Commuters complained about their extended travel times, and grudgingly muttered about the benefits of extra jobs and taking traffic off the streets once work was complete.

  Stalker listened to one such conversation on the bus, idly playing with a penny that she had found on her seat. She got off at her usual stop, avoiding Burnside. Pocketing the penny, she made her way to the cenotaph, where Ragged Edge was already waiting for her.

  He greeted her stiffly, his brow even more deeply furrowed than usual.

  'Hi,' she said, looking at him with concern. 'People are starting to warm to the underground, slowly. What's wrong?'

  'We have a name to engrave.'

  'Who?' Stalker's heart started racing. Her thoughts whisked through all of Odin's Warriors, many of whom she considered siblings. First Strike was foremost in her mind, a guilty knot forming in her chest.

  'Fire Talon,' Ragged Edge replied gruffly.

  Every passing pedestrian, every car on the nearby street, every plane in the sky, everything stopped. The world was suspended around Stalker, the wind knocked out of her as she stood mute, staring at him. There had to be a mistake. Slowly, she swallowed and took a breath. The ignorant world began to turn again.

  'You have to be joking,' she whispered. 'It's not funny, it's sick. You can't do that to people.'

  'I'm not joking. All of the Storm Riders are gone.'

  'Gone? Just like that? A whole pack?' Even as she said the words she realised how they sounded. That had been the plan for the Blue Moon, obliterated in one go. 'What happened?'

  'No one knows, but they're not there anymore. A raven brought Red Scythe the news of Fire Talon. They always do, when one of our own is lost. All we know is that they were seen fighting on the beach. Now they're all dead. Well, except for Lost, but she's . . . lost.'

  'Lost?' Stalker's head was spinning, she didn't understand.

  'A member of the Storm Riders. I didn't know her well, no one has known any of that pack well for decades. But a few years ago she disappeared. She didn't die, Fire Talon told me she hadn't even left their pack, he was still connected to her, but no one knew where she was. As far as I'm aware, she wasn't attacked, she's still out there somewhere.'

  'When did it happen?'

  'Yesterday. So, we're here to do the honours.' He held out his hand and she walked slowly up the steps of the cenotaph and placed her hand on the smooth sandstone. Shimmering runes slowly began to appear on the surface, above the brass plaque dedicated to the humans who had given their lives in human wars. Ragged Edge discreetly pulled out a small blade and began inscribing the runes “Fire” and “Talon” at the bottom of the list.

  'Did you find anything about those names I gave you?' Stalker asked.

  'No. You?'

  'Claws is working on it, he has a list of people who shared the names, we just need to narrow it down. I'm going to the Scroll Archive straight from here.'

  'Good luck,' he said, his voice devoid of any genuine feeling. He finished the inscription and stepped back. They stood in silence for a minute that stretched into the warm afternoon. Stalker had lost a friend, someone she had shared poignant moments with. He had left a daughter in the world. One day she might turn and wonder who her family was. She might stand in this very spot, staring at his name, and all the names after it. Maybe Stalker's name would be there.

  'I'll let you know if I fin
d anything that could bring me closer to finding them,' she said softly.

  'I was meaning to ask,' he said, his voice tilting unnaturally high. Stalker looked at him warily. 'What form did Odin grant you? When you were initiated? You've never said.'

  Stalker let out an audible whimper. She hadn't been prepared for this question, she should have been. A battle raged inside her mind, whether to lie to her mentor, or tell the truth.

  'He didn't,' she said after too long a pause.

  'Sorry?'

  'He didn't grant me an extra form.' She was being honest. It was easy, so easy that the full truth rushed up into her mouth. 'I could already take any animal form I chose.'

  Ragged Edge blinked hard at her for a moment, absorbing her words.

  'Really?'

  'Yes, Shadow's Step didn't want me to tell anyone. Only my pack knows.'

  'I've heard of such things in legends, but never anything verifiable as real.' His head was cocked to one side as he studied Stalker through his shrewd eyes. 'I understand why you would keep this secret, but I wish you had trusted me sooner.'

  'I'm sorry.' She felt like she had disappointed him, and cast her gaze to the ground.

  'It's all right. We'll keep looking for your parents, it seems even more important now. But I suspect that the gods are the only ones who truly know where you came from.'

  'What are you saying?'

  'Well, we all come from Artemis, of course, but you're special. Maybe you were chosen for something else, something other than protecting the veil.'

  'My surname, you asked about it last time. It means gate keeper.' Ragged Edge's question last time they met had prompted her to search the internet for a clue.

  'Interesting,' he said carefully. 'And your first name?'

  'Holy one,' Stalker said, blood rushing to her cheeks.

  'Let me know if you find anything in the Scroll Archive,' he said, sweeping her embarrassment away decisively.

  'I will.'

  He pulled her into a fatherly embrace. When he released her he cleared his throat and stalked away, leaning heavily on his staff. Stalker watched him go. She gave one last look to Fire Talon's name on the cenotaph, and watched as all of the runes faded away, hidden until the next time a shifter revealed them.

  Stalker decided to walk to the river and follow it north to the Scroll Archive. She walked slowly, gazing at the floor. Was it possible that she had been chosen for something special and that her parents knew about it?

  As she walked along the river bank through China Town, street traffic picked up. It was always busier here than in St. Mark's, where most people drove or took the bus, more people seemed to be trying to get out of St. Mark's. The street markets in China Town gave it a different atmosphere to the rest of Caerton. Along the river were dozens of stalls, which attracted a lot of tourists.

  Stalker passed a row of benches facing the river, which was less polluted here than further north, where debris collected before being spewed out into the estuary. She caught sight of a playing card wedged into the back of a bench between the wooden slats and metal frame. She tugged it loose and kept walking, thumbing the soft edges of the browning card. She hummed a melody and folded the card neatly twice.

  The path clung to the river bank as the stalls gave way to office buildings, and foot traffic all but disappeared. Stalker followed it into St. Marks, past the place where she and Eyes had first met Claws, and all the way past Red Bridge, to the other bridge in Northgate.

  A familiar figure sat on the stone wall that ran along the bank, her long black skirt catching in the breeze and blowing about her feet. Last-Breath-Echoes slid gracefully from the wall, and greeted Stalker with a soft smile.

  'Hi,' she said as Stalker drew level with her.

  'How are you?' Stalker asked, glancing around them for onlookers. A couple of men in suits walked briskly by, and cars swept past; it was fairly quiet.

  'Fine, thanks.'

  'Did you hear about the Storm Riders?'

  'I did,' Echoes replied softly, the corner of her mouth twitching. 'I always hear when...' Her voice tailed off.

  'Will there be a funeral?' Stalker asked, looking resolutely at her feet and trying not to recall the funeral they had held for the Blue Moon.

  'Not really. That's normally a pack matter and there were no bodies to recover. We think they were either washed out to sea, or taken by whoever did it. But Scribe and I will light black candles for them and raise a howl. You would be free to do something similar.'

  'Okay,' Stalker replied, her voice barely audible over the sound of the river and traffic on the busy main road crossing the bridge.

  They set off walking together, a slightly awkward silence between them. Stalker led the way down onto the clay bank under the bridge. She trudged through the sticky substance, up to the hidden door into the Scroll Archive. Last-Breath-Echoes stepped forward, seeming to almost float across the clay. She unlocked the door and shoved it open. A torch flickered to life inside and Stalker peered in over Last-Breath-Echoes' shoulder, drawn towards the warm glow. It was a doorway through the veil, she felt it clearly this time.

  'If Scribe ever finds out about this...' Echoes murmured. She moved inside and held a hand out to Stalker. Stalker took it and stepped across the threshold into a little pocket of Hepethia. Echoes closed the door, shielding them from the human world. Stalker looked around in awe. The door opened into a small chamber with pale, stone walls. Every inch of the stone was covered in tiny runes and engraved drawings that reminded her of cave paintings. Echoes led Stalker along the narrow passage and into a larger cave. Wall-mounted torches flickered to life as they entered, throwing deep shadows into crevices, and illuminating more of the intricate markings. There was a large desk in the centre of the cave, piled high with curled up scrolls and several enormous ledgers.

  Along one wall of the cave was a vast wooden shelving unit with dozens of square compartments, each one stacked with scrolls.

  'I didn't expect actual scrolls,' Stalker muttered.

  'We ran out of wall space a few centuries ago. I guess we haven't moved into the twenty first century yet, we might get a computer at some point,' Echoes said absently, as she moved over to the desk and heaved the ledgers around. 'Scribe has been working on finding information on the King-of-Glass-and-Steel.'

  Stalker moved over to the wall and looked at the little drawings. They depicted battles, small groups of humanoid figures armed with spears and bows and arrows fought off fae and demons of all shapes and sizes. The cave smelled a lot like a library, a musky scent clung to the dust in the air.

  Echoes leafed quickly through a ledger, running her finger down the pages. Stalker moved closer to see what she was looking at. Each page of the hefty tome was divided into tightly packed columns.

  'What is that?' she asked.

  'A birth registry. I'm looking for your name. When were you born?'

  'I don't even know if either of them were born in Caerton. Hey, does this go up to today?'

  'Yes,' Echoes replied, her voice soft and far away, her attention fixed on the tiny writing. Stalker noticed many different styles of handwriting on each page, some neat, some barely legible.

  'Do you record the births of every child born to every shifter? How do you know you've got them all?'

  'We fill in what we can, when we can.'

  'You know Eyes has a daughter?' She decided not to mention Claws' son, she didn't know anything about him or where he was born, and Claws kept his existence very close to his chest. She wasn't going to betray that confidence.

  'Yes, she's in here.'

  'Oh.' Stalker noticed that the information on each page was quite thorough, though there were plenty of gaps. Each entry noted a birth date, human name, parents' human and shifter names; and a change date, shifter name, and pack for each offspring that had undergone the transformation. Those that hadn't had empty spaces in those columns. 'There, that's the year I was born.' She jabbed the page with her finger and Echoes slowly
trailed a finger down the second column.

  'Here you are.' Echoes slid the book over to Stalker. Her pulse suddenly soared and she just stared at Last-Breath-Echoes, her breathing heavy as apprehension rocketed through her body. 'What's wrong?'

  'I don't know if I dare look.'

  'You asked me to find this,' Echoes said with a frown on her usually unworried brow.

  'I know. I need to know, but it's a big step for me.'

  'I see,' Echoes replied, confusion evident on her face. Stalker suspected she had no idea what Stalker was feeling.

  Slowly, Stalker lowered her eyes to the faded parchment. She found her birth date and human name, Ariana Yates. She was born here. Mother: Jane White. Father: Malcolm Slater. Also known as Symphony and Heart's Blood respectively. Stalker's heart felt like it was going to leap right out of her throat. Her own first change and shifter name were recorded in the untidy scrawl of Flames-First-Guardian.

  'Can we look for my parents' births in here?' she asked, her voice shaking.

  'Of course,' Echoes replied, slowly taking the ledger back. 'We can look for siblings too, if you like.'

  It had never occurred to Stalker that she might have siblings. That was a door she didn't want to open right now.

  'Just my parents, thanks.'

  Echoes flipped back a chunk of pages and began hunting. They had no idea when Stalker's parents had been born, they could have been teenagers when they had her, or relatively seasoned shifters. She thought of the shifters that she knew of who had children, and the course of their lives. These brutal lives, filled with violence. Parents forced to abandon children in order to protect them. How many other babies were shipped off to other cities? How many names in that book were missing further information because they had simply disappeared into obscurity? She thought of Father Ash, up on the hill in his white house, with his framed photographs of the young woman now poring over lists of names. 'Were you raised by your parents?' Stalker asked, trying and failing to keep her voice casual.