Flare Shifter

by Erin MacMichael

  As soon as they reached the street, he broke into an easy trot while the beast loped beside him, eager and edgy. The smell of fresh blood assaulted Ryder’s nostrils the moment they reached the divided boulevard and when the saur tugged against the chain sniffing for the source, he quickened his pace and bounded across the road in order to keep his charge in check. “Oh no you don’t, we still have a job to do,” he crooned, knowing it was vital to maintain the distressed animal’s interest in order keep it under control.

  He tore through side streets to avoid the war zone down in the roundabout, scattering pedestrians and vehicles alike who ran or swerved to steer clear of a running saur. When he hit the high wall of the Assassins Hall compound, he turned and followed the street below past the hall’s locked entrance and on around Tiro’s closed-up residence, leading the panting saur down the middle of the avenue connecting the mansion with Guild Hall Square.

  The sounds of fighting reached him when they were still several blocks away from the wide square and he was dismayed to see that the whole area ahead was clogged with countless bands of Drahks, all swinging, slashing, kicking, and yelling. The acrid reek of blood was overpowering and the saur cried out excitedly, lurching forward on its chain.

  “Down!” he shouted, pulling it back forcefully. The saur squealed loudly, but reluctantly obeyed his command. He knew he would never get the hungry animal through the thick of the fighting and had just started for the nearest side street in order to zigzag his way around the Guild Hall when the flare itself reared its head.

  A fresh torrent of radiation blasted through the street, accompanied by blinding pulsations of light ripping across the sky, raining down across the city without letting up and bending everything in its path. For a split second, Ryder’s cells pulsed to let the energy pass through and the saur’s chain slipped from his grasp.

  With a hideous wail, the beast tore away from him, shaking the ground as it thundered down the avenue. “NO, god damn it!” Ryder cried in exasperation, racing after the storming beast. He needed this creature to complete his task so he could leave the city and didn’t have time to go all the way back to the pens to start over.

  The trumpeting saur plunged into the midst of the combating Drahks, slashing and tearing with its great jaws, lunging at the torn, bleeding bodies lying on the cobblestones. The screams in the square ripped through the night. Ryder caught up with the creature and seized the chain, leaning backward with his body weight and yanking hard, but the saur was in a frenzy, oblivious to his attempts to control it, and lurched forward with such violence that he was forced to let go of the chain to keep his arms from being ripped out of their sockets.

  Desperately Ryder scanned the area around him for a means to regain control over the beast and ran to the nearest bloody heap of flesh. Without hesitation, he snatched up a bleeding forearm which had been torn from a Drahkian soldier, ruthlessly suppressing his body’s violent reaction, and bolted after the saur. When the creature stopped to mangle a new victim, he dashed ahead of it and whirled, planting himself squarely in the path of the snapping animal.

  “Right here!” he snarled, staring the beast down, daring it to attack. The saur screamed and stamped one of its heavy feet before it charged.

  As the thick head descended, Ryder swung the bloody appendage with all of his strength and smacked the beast hard across the snout before he took off running at top speed. The saur roared hysterically and pounded after him across the cobblestones down the swath which opened between terrified Drahks rushing to let the monster pass.

  Ryder raced out of the square and veered onto the last avenue stretching toward the artisan gate just a few blocks away. Sprinting ahead, he ducked under the stone archway and swiped the bloody arm once across the iron doors before tossing it up over the top. Pivoting, he stood gasping for breath, waiting the last few moments for the angry beast to reach him.

  The saur was on him in seconds. As the open jaws lashed toward his head, he leaned back into the gate and shifted, slipping through the crack and reforming into his natural state on the other side.

  The iron doors rang as the giant head smashed into them.

  “Come on! Come and get me!” Ryder yelled, stooping to pick up his gory lure while backing out of the archway.

  The thudding sounded again and again until the saur burst through the gates, howling with rage.

  Ryder flew down the street, making sure he stayed in the beast’s sight the last few blocks to the business pedestrian zone where he rounded the corner and ran ahead, smearing streaks of blood over doors and windows as he passed. Before he reached his own storefront, he tucked himself into the shadows of a shop entrance and waited, quieting his breath to listen for the sounds of the saur’s approach.

  The heavy footfalls of the running beast came to a halt down at the end of the row of buildings. Faint whuffling followed by breaking glass and falling rubble told him the saur was tracking him, punching in the doors and windows he had marked. Ryder pulled in silent lungs full of air, counting the seconds as he listened to the destruction of storefronts coming his way.

  Slipping out of the shadows, he ran the last three doors to his shop, smeared blood across the front windows, and hurried inside, quickly swinging the dripping flesh all over the glass cases and back wall. An excited squeal several doors down let him know he had been seen.

  Dropping the bloody arm in the middle of the floor, Ryder took several steps into the back and came face to face with Kynn Solcroft.

  “What the hell?” he spat out, mortified at finding anyone in the studio, let alone this man.

  The truthsayer was dressed in plain clothing and his eyes were dull and shadowed. He clutched the gold collar Ryder had been working on in his right hand and ran his gaze over the goldsmith’s long hair and broad shoulders. “Not hiding anymore, Ryder?” he asked quietly.

  Ryder shook his head as he panted. “No, no more. I’m done with that.”

  “Then I take it you’re leaving?”

  “Yes,” he acknowledged, anxious for both of them to get moving toward the back door.

  Kynn nodded in satisfaction as he studied the younger man. “Good. That’s what I came to find out.”

  The front window exploded in a shower of fractured glass and fragments, throwing Ryder and flying debris further back into the studio. Searing pain burned through his left arm as he struggled to push himself up off the floor. Kynn ran to his side and pulled a thick shard of glass out of his arm, then seized him by the front of his jacket to haul him roughly to his feet.

  “Are you alright? Can you stand?”

  Ryder nodded as he regained his balance, wincing as his right hand came up to cover a deep gash in his upper bicep. Kynn grabbed a cloth from a nearby table and jammed it through the front of his jacket into his torn upper sleeve in order to staunch the bleeding.

  The saur bellowed in the street and began hammering at the front of the building, spraying glass and pieces of rubble in all directions. Kynn’s head flew toward the raging beast and then back again to Ryder’s face and bloody clothing. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Kynn, we’ve got to get out of here!” Ryder urged frantically just before the saur burst through the front door frame, snorting and scarfing up the bloody flesh from the floor.

  “Quick, give me your hand,” Kynn ordered, snatching Ryder’s left hand and pulling the silver ring free before he had a chance to object.

  “What are you doing?” he cried out in alarm.

  The truthsayer’s eyes were filled with unbearable pain as he slipped the ring onto his own left hand and held it up in front of him. “For you—and for everything we’ve lost, everyone I’ve hurt.” He bent down, scooped up the gold collar, and reached for Ryder’s arm, transforming his features and clothes into the aging mask Ryder had worn for twelve years.

  Horrified, Ryder sucked in a breath. “No!” he shouted as the saur smashed through the front counters and pounded into the wall of the studio.

 
“Tiro will need to find a body,” Kynn said gruffly as he moved swiftly toward the vibrating wall. “I’ve already covered my own trail.”

  “No! Kynn, come with me!” Ryder shrieked desperately, swiping after the truthsayer with his bloody right hand. “What about your daughter?”

  Kynn glanced back at him with a haggard expression as the saur broke through the last barrier. “She’s dead. They have nothing on me anymore.”

  Ryder was forced to step backward as the saur’s jaws snapped and blood flew. Sickened and shocked, he turned and ran. He thought his heart would rupture before he made it out the rear exit. Fighting back nausea and tears, he harshly shoved his shattered feelings way down deep until he had time to deal with them and ran through the back courtyard behind the shops toward the street. He had one last thing he needed to do before he could leave the city for good—get the fucking saur out of the artisan quarter before it could go further and hurt anyone else.

  His left arm hurt like hell, but he could still bend it. Circling around the block back to the pedestrian zone, he surveyed the damage the saur had caused to the row of expensive storefronts. Glass and rubble littered the street along the south side all the way down to his shop where the enormous tail end of the saur was still sticking out of the wreckage.

  Ryder picked up a piece of stone with his right hand and with a cry of despair, hurled it at the saur’s huge haunch. The animal jumped and backed itself out of the decimated building, swinging angry eyes and a blood-smeared snout in his direction.

  “Come on, you bastard!” he called hoarsely. He wheeled around and took off as soon as he saw that the beast was coming after him again. Drawing on his reserves to keep himself alert, he led the creature back up the avenue and through the ruined iron gates, heading once more for the commotion still raging in Guild Hall Square. Quickly taking cover behind of a group of startled Drahks, he darted unseen into the shadows of a narrow passage while the thundering saur tore past, attracted by the screaming up ahead and the smell of new prey.

  Ryder moved further back into the passage and sank down the wall into a heap, fighting for breath, taking a few needed moments to collect himself. He couldn’t think about Kynn just yet or the tormented feelings which had come through the truthsayer’s last grip on his arm. He had a several-day journey out to Silverloch ahead of him and he needed every ounce of energy he could muster just to get himself out of Tessin tonight while the flare still raged. He knew his wound was soaking through the cloth and that he would soon be dripping blood, so going back through the walled artisan section was out of the question.

  “Damn it,” he muttered as he rocked his head back against the wall. His best bet was to work his way north and west through the outskirts of the Drahkian zone where the abundance of spilled blood would cover any trail.

  As soon as he recovered his wind, he picked himself up off the ground and set off, moving steadily away from the chaotic blocks surrounding the square and jogging up into less crowded side streets lined with apartment houses. The number of bodies lying prone on the pavement showed evidence of earlier clashes, but the only reptilians he encountered were glassy-eyed servants wandering aimlessly along the sidewalks. Other than occasional bizarre noises emanating from doorways, he traveled through the area undisturbed without a single volatile encounter or need to shift his form.

  With a growing sense of ease, he passed the last few blocks of Drahkian territory and had just moved into the vacant streets of an Algolian residential sector when the frenetic calls of flying saurs floated down from above, evaporating his short-lived respite.

  “Bloody hell, that’s all I need,” he groaned. Backing himself quickly against a building, he searched the sky above the street, listening intently. The screeching grew louder as several dozen winged creatures glided high overhead, sweeping in a loose arc back toward the center of the city. They were out in numbers which meant some deranged Torg must have released them all from their pens in the stockade.

  Ryder swore again under his breath—his bleeding arm would draw the cursed beasts like mosquitoes. His right hand rose to his torn sleeve and found the wadded cloth underneath already wet to the touch.

  Pushing away from the building, he moved on at a guarded pace, keeping to the shadows of doorways, alleys, or broken walls as much as he could. When he came to a broad, open thoroughfare, he had no choice but to cross in order to continue moving westward out of the city. After several minutes of careful listening, he darted silently across the lamp-lit expanse and made it to the other side without mishap, but as he headed down the darkened half of the closest street, the steady beat of wings followed him until he ducked around the corner of an alley, flattening himself against the wall.

  The saur swooped down into the street hunting for him and let out a short, excited squawk when it picked up his scent. He took off running into the alley, hoping that the passage was too narrow for the creature’s wingspan, but the maddened beast dove after him, whizzing past his head as he dropped into a crouch. In a tumble of snapping bones, the saur crashed to the ground, madly flapping its wings to right itself and scramble around to pursue its prey.

  Ryder sprang to his feet and started back toward the street just as the shadowy figure of another saur flew across the end of the alley. Gritting his teeth with frustration, he came to a halt a few feet away from the street, scouring the air for the second flier.

  The frenzied flailing of the injured saur came up behind him faster than he’d anticipated and he turned the instant it lunged for his bleeding arm. He ducked quickly, twisting his arm out of harm’s way, and reached for the snapping creature. Seizing it by the neck and using its own momentum, he flipped it up over his head and slammed it down hard against the cobblestones. The leathery body didn’t move, but the saur from above shot toward him like a bullet out of the dark.

  Ryder screamed as razor-like teeth tore into his left shoulder and chest, ripping and twisting as the impact knocked him backwards against the wall. Instinctively, he grabbed the beast’s long snout and shifted his cells, slipping through the rending jaws and taking on the form of the saur. His scream became a shrill cry as he lifted himself up and away from the attacking creature and flew out over the tiled rooftops of the city.

  Roused by the taste of blood, the saur charged after him, screeching and snapping at his hind feet. Ryder’s shredded flesh burned, but he ignored the pain and focused on mastering this strange new form and flying haphazardly to keep himself ahead of his pursuer’s deadly teeth.

  The sky flashed with blinding light as another massive flare surge peaked and rolled in. Instantly energized, Ryder scanned the city below, searching for a way to take advantage of the saur’s moments of disorientation, and spotted a crumbling bell tower in one of the northern districts. He sped ahead of the confused flier and dove down toward the tower’s open arches. The moment before he hit the stone, he loosened his form and blew straight through, reforming himself again on the other side. The saur behind him flew headlong into the tower with a loud crack and tumbled into the streets below.

  Ryder soared out over Tessin under a shower of illumination. The faint clamor of reptilian voices receded and melted into the slick rush of air flowing over his wings. He climbed with the currents rising up from below, gliding for long stretches with very little effort, until the city fell away and the welcome blanket of fields and trees spread out in front of him. His chest ached and dripped, but he barely noticed, savoring the coolness and silence of the storm-drenched sky.

  He flew through the night in a dreamlike trance where time slid sideways past the tips of his wings. At the edge of his awareness, he held onto the image of the lake he needed to find, serene and safe, with Kea’s face smiling up from the surface.

  Sometime before the rising of the first sun, the trailing remnants of the storm floated off into feathery stillness. He had the vague impression of seeing a mountain lake somewhere below, heard the plaintive cry of a saur, and felt the distant sensation of falling
through trees.

  And then there was nothing.

  Ryder woke to blistering hot pain in his chest and when he tried to move, his arms felt like long, wing-like things. He groaned and shifted back into his own form, collapsing onto the branches and fir needles beneath him.

  “He’s one of us—it’s him! Tell her to run!” a woman’s voice shouted earnestly somewhere above him. Calming hands touched his shoulders and tried to lift him. “Rori, Dev, help me turn him over!”

  Ryder cried out in agony as several hands pulled at his aching body and rolled him onto his back.

  “By the flares, Rori,” the woman’s voice said shakily. “He flew all the way out here—like this!” The gentle hands brushed his tangled hair away from his face. “Ryder, can you hear me?”

  He cracked open his eyes and blinked in confusion at the pretty woman peering down at him with worried concern. “Kea?”

  “She’s coming, Ryder. I’m Cait, her aunt. Lie still now. I have to clean your wounds.” Cait unzipped his jacket and tore open his shirt, cutting the fabric away from his bloody chest and arm with a sharp knife. Cool water trickled over his encrusted, torn flesh, but when she pressed something into the oozing wounds, it felt like he’d been touched with a torch.

  “I’m sorry,” Cait said apologetically as Ryder hissed and flinched. “I’ll try to work fast.”

  “Kyle, go back down and get the wagon. Bring it up as far as you can!” a deep voice called out. There seemed to be a lot of voices shouting about something, but only one voice pierced the haze of his battered awareness.

  “Ryder!!”

  He heard Kea’s small feet running closer and opened his eyes again, searching for her face. When she broke through the wall of strangers gathering next to him, he pulled up roughly, trying to rise, and reached for her with his right arm, drawing her down into an urgent kiss. “I found you,” he whispered with relief as he collapsed back onto the ground, clutching her close in a fierce hold.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here for days, if you came at all,” Kea replied, pushing herself up so she could look into his face. “And then we heard the saur wail above the lake—” She glanced over at the mess of his chest and gasped. “My god, Ryder, what happened?”