Ink and Shadows

by Rhys Ford

  “There!” Death pointed as the bird broke off its arc, drawn by the ripple of the two Horsemen entering the thin shadows.

  “Still kind of open here.” As he crossed into the comfort of the darkness, Ari’s lungs filled with the sweetness of the Veil, flowing through his ancient body. Glancing around, Ari edged into a side street, assessing the space for a fight. A nearby pair of dark green Dumpsters would provide cover to cut down the wraith’s angles of attack. “Over there, Shi. We need to minimize its options.”

  “I think killing it will minimize its options,” Death remarked, following close behind Ari.

  Stepping clear of the garbage spilling over onto the ground, Death lifted his gaze, searching the sky for the summoned creature. A sooty trail arced over behind them, the wraith’s wings leaving an echo of gray as it struck the Veil. Screaming with renewed strength, its cry rattled down onto the pair, Death firmly planting his feet in anticipation of its attack.

  As the wraith came closer, its stink rankled Ari’s nostrils, overloading his senses. The shadow’s odor overwhelmed the sickly sweet rot of human refuse, and Ari cleared the stench from his nose with a snort. Death raised his weapon, the scar on his face turning silver in the light when he turned his shoulders toward Ari’s back.

  “Why are we doing this?” Ari gagged on the creature’s smell, scraping his tongue under his front teeth. “Why aren’t we just letting it eat the kid?”

  “This is just the beginning of it, Ari,” Death said. “It’ll grow bigger and break out of the Veil.”

  “And eat more humans.” The blond Horseman sighed, balancing his weight to be ready for the bird. “Yeah, got to save the humans. Can’t let them get eaten by shadows.”

  “Do you really think we should let this one get the boy and walk away?”

  “No,” Ari growled. “This damned thing isn’t getting as far as the boy. Hell, it’s not getting down the street. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  There was no worry in Ari’s voice. The lack of concern wasn’t surprising to Death. He was accustomed to Ari’s faith in winning any argument or battle he set his mind to. To lose something he wanted was inconceivable to the blond Horseman. He would continue to hammer at a problem until the person or thing surrendered. As far as he was concerned, Ari would lay siege for all eternity to get what he wanted. As far as Death knew, this wraith had no chance.

  Before humans concentrated on hating one another, a break in the Veil meant relatively easy hunting, slithering demonic creatures clustered in a small area, the holes punched into the shadowy curtain pulled back together and held by an immortal’s will. The Veil healed itself, knitting threads back together, then strengthening the bond. As mankind spread and paranoia began to taint innate hatreds, blood and curses called forth wraiths, summoned unknowingly through small magics and ill wishes.

  Then the humans began to learn how to summon the shadows, and the Horsemen found themselves in a battle against the Veiled creatures.

  Death and Ari lived through the centuries of hunting large shadow wraiths feeding off entire villages, the creatures often leaving nothing behind but smoking bones. The Horsemen spent hours in the cold of a winter river washing the ashen powder from their bodies, the pale dust from walking through fields littered with dried, crackling skeletons. Their lives were a blur then, often falling down exhausted to sleep where they could, only to be up an hour or so later to hunt again.

  They would have to find the human responsible for calling up this latest wraith, or the Four Horsemen would return to those long days, smoky, depressing months searching for things that fed on human flesh with a delighted, ravenous glee. The other immortals would hopefully help close the Veil’s breaches, but Death had little faith in that.

  What help they got these days seemed to be grudgingly given, usually ignored until Death begged for support. He had no confidence that any help would be forthcoming if wraiths broke through the Veil.

  Standing ankle-deep in the runny, spoiled garbage behind a convenience store, Death was sorry he’d forgotten Ari’s dedication. A fierceness ran strong in Ari’s character, devoted to the Horsemen and, more importantly, to their leader. He’d wondered if Ari would always be there beside him, a constant companion until time burned down. Now Death began to have doubts that Ari would ever leave. The thought both scared and thrilled the eldest Horseman.

  “Paying attention here, Shi?” Ari asked, noticing the distracted look in Death’s eyes. “I’m about to save you from getting your ass kicked. I’d like you to at least notice.”

  The wraith’s talons stretched outward, its thick body barreling down through the air. Wings tucked behind its fabricated shoulder blades, it sliced at Ari’s head, nearly catching the tip of its diamond-hard claw on his cheek. Jerking his head away, Ari twisted, letting the momentum carry him around and leaving room for Death’s attack.

  The dark-haired Horseman stabbed at the space where Ari’s head had been moments ago, carving a chunk of shadowed meat from the wraith’s outstretched limb. Its thick blood spurted from the wound, Death wincing and gritting his teeth in pain when the acidic fluid splashed over his bare forearm. Rolling his shoulder under the strike, Death continued the motion through, curling around Ari’s hips as he moved past.

  Ari surged forward, one of his long daggers a flash, biting into the wraith’s back before it turned away from them. Nearly losing his balance on the slippery asphalt, the blond swore, stepping back to avoid Death’s legs. Ari’s face bled feral with delight, hands clenched tight around the hilts of his weapons, and he urged the wraith to circle around again.

  It arced, its crimson eyes narrowing in wicked malevolence. Screaming with pain, the wraith wobbled in midflight. Its right leg hung useless from its body, the joint severed by Death’s katana. The elongating shadows clustered in the alley shivered under the dripping fluids of the bird’s wound, faint smoke rings puffing into the air when the drops struck, tadpole-like wraiths feeding voraciously on the mewling, injured bodies of their dying swarm-mates. The ground at Ari’s feet emptied of ambient darkness, a hungry tide flowing toward the carnage.

  “You okay?” Ari didn’t dare take his eyes off the bird, its wings beating a gale wind through the narrow street, the carrion smell nearly choking the blond as he inhaled.

  “I’m fine.” Death steadied himself, the ground dangerously slick beneath the soles of his shoes. “It’s softer, fleshier than I thought it would be.”

  “Seems pretty hard to me,” Ari growled. The wraith beat its wings, trying to get enough altitude for another dive. “Times like this make me wish I had a really long spear. Other than the one I already have, you know.”

  Death waited a heartbeat before glancing under his lashes at Ari’s grinning face. Winking, the blond showed a wide swath of white teeth, his smile tinted lascivious with wicked promise. Disgusted, Death returned to staring at the winged wraith.

  “That was funny,” Ari grunted, nudging his friend with his elbow. “You need to laugh sometimes, or I’m going to start taking it personally.”

  Death refused to answer, turning to face the wraith’s attack. Its sharp beak snapped, a crackling boom cutting off its piercing cries. Tucking its body into a tight arrow, the bird plunged, its crippled leg flapping behind it, its maw wide open.

  The bird could be powerful enough to slice one of them in two, Death realized, focusing on the angle of the bird’s attack. This wasn’t something that crawled up the food chain, battle-scarred and wary of engaging another predator. This wraith emerged from the darkness with no fear of conflict, not knowing of its own mortality and driven by the will of its creator. These were the most dangerous of creatures, summoned with enough power to cripple or kill with no thought to its own survival.

  He and Ari would have to take care not to leave even the tiniest of openings for the bird to exploit. It was too strong and big for a single Horseman to fight. They couldn’t afford for either one of them to be crippled before the wraith could be killed.
>
  With the screaming wraith fast approaching, he drew his blade up over his shoulder, feeling Ari close to him, the blond’s body searing a line of heat on Death’s side. Habit made Ari edge one step in front of Death, offering the breadth of his chest as a target to draw the bird from noticing the lean, rangy man next to him.

  “Watch the beak,” Death warned Ari.

  “Yeah, I think I’ve done this before, Shi.” The blond laughed at Death’s answering grumble.

  “I am trying to watch out for you.”

  Ari’s heart surrendered to Death, seduced by the softness in his friend’s tone. These kinds of moments, caught in a fight with the sloe-eyed Asian by his side, were what made immortality with all of its flaws worth it for Ari. Nudging the other man with his shoulder, Ari murmured, “Thanks.”

  Seething, the wraith bit at the air, catching the edge of Ari’s forearm, spinning the immortal around. Jabbing his dagger up into its chest, Ari gritted his teeth when its blood poured over his bare hand, peels of skin lifting under rising blisters. Metal rattled, the thunderous sound of the bird hitting the Dumpster ringing in the Horsemen’s ears. A man jogging by glanced down the side street, perplexed by the echoing gong. The slap of his sneakers was lost to the immortals, their hearing momentarily deafened.

  Turning tight on its one good leg, the bird lunged forward for a bite of Ari’s shoulder, leaving its neck open for Death’s blade. The eldest’s katana sliced into the shadowy flesh, breaking off chunks of solid muscle, peeling back the bird’s leathery skin to expose the burgundy meat below. Death’s katana smoked, the tempered steel dipping repeatedly in the creature’s acidic blood, his blows arcing away from Ari.

  Pulling back into the corralled trash bins, the wraith stumbled, blood pouring from its wounds.

  Beating at the air, the tip of its wing struck Death across the face, opening up a small cut over his cheek. Stepping away from the bird’s floundering blows, Ari dug the tip of his dagger into the bird’s throat, cutting down deep into the long stretch of muscle under its beak.

  The bird’s head popped loose from its spine, elongated tendons snapping apart under the edge of Ari’s sharp blade. Its beak cracked where it hit a stretch of asphalt, the severed head bouncing in uneven hops along the side street’s gutter. The bird’s body thrashed about, one of its wings slamming Death against a Dumpster, the Horseman unable to get away from the dying wraith’s spasms.

  Ari drove his daggers into the wraith’s muscled body, then grabbed the bird’s wing, cracking the delicate spines as he wrenched at a shoulder joint. After dragging the wraith’s weight off Death’s trapped body, Ari pulled his friend away from the dented Dumpster and ran his hands down Death’s arms to check for broken bones.

  “You okay, Shi?” Ari asked, concern adding velvet to his rough whiskey voice. “Shit, that thing was strong.”

  “I’m good.” Death nodded, opening his mouth wide and listening to his jaw pop back into place, the loud crack reverberating off his eardrums. “Ache a little, but I’m good.”

  “Told you I’d kick its ass for you.” Ari grinned. “Damn, that was fun!”

  Cupping the eldest’s face, Ari ran his thumbs over the rise of Death’s lower lip before leaning in close. Exuberant, his nerves hyped on adrenaline, Ari stole his mouth over Death’s, taking the older Horseman by surprise.

  Death tasted of green tea and orange marmalade, sweetness mingled with the erotic spice of the darkness that spotted his friend’s soul. Ari murmured contentedly, taking in Death’s gasp of breath, drawing the air into his lungs to hold for a moment before reluctantly allowing it to whisper away. Nipping at the bow of Death’s upper lip, Ari stole a final brushing butterfly of a kiss, lingering against Death’s mouth with the heat of his own.

  “You….” Death was unable to breathe, his thoughts scattered into flight, hematite pigeons fleeing under the attentions of a tawny hunting cat. “You never let up.”

  “You already knew that about me, Shi.” Ari’s cocky grin mocked Death’s halfhearted protest, the older Horseman not pulling away from Ari’s grasp. “I was happy to save your ass. I have plans for it, you know. Let’s find the others and head home. I need some lunch. Killing makes me hungry.”

  MAL GLANCED behind him, his thoughts on the two Horsemen they’d left behind. The Mustang’s tires hit the curb hard, jostling Mal into the car door. He bit his tongue, tasting his own blood in the back of his throat. The coppery taint made him sick, a roil of metallic disgust filtering up to his nose.

  The walls of a bank rippled with shadow as they passed. Scenting the presence of the Horsemen, a large wraith broke free to hunt its prey, its forming head searching the streets for the pull on the Veil.

  The creature swooped around a squat building, snarling while it chased the car.

  Min spotted the glimmer of red in its visible eye, swearing, then hitting the gas pedal, hoping to distance the Mustang from the hunting shadow. She wasn’t deluded into thinking they could outpace the powerful creature, despite Ari’s choice in cars. The siren call of the two Horsemen would draw it in, the ripples of their moving through the Veil nearly impossible to hide from something created out of chaos.

  “Min, there’s a wraith hunting us.” Mal grabbed at the dashboard, trying to keep his seat as he watched the creature gain ground on them.

  “Mal, shut up and tell me where I’m going.” Min hooked the car into another lane, avoiding a lumbering red Caltrans bus. The Mustang screamed in response, the tires catching on the street’s slick, plastic white lines. “I know there’s something hunting us.”

  “Sorry.” Mal turned back around. The streets poured past him, a liquid flow of asphalt and green street signs. A familiar steeple-framed office whipped past, its bright blue roof faded from the harsh desert sun. Set closely against the small building, the motel faded into the background, the Mustang gunning by without a whispering hope of slowing down. “It’s behind us. Kismet’s place is back behind us.”

  “I should kick your ass,” Min growled, gritting her teeth. She hit the Mustang’s brakes, its heavier rear end careening and fishtailing, tires hitting a patch of gravel. Kicking up a stream of rocks, the car slid into an alleyway, Min working to avoid a green Dumpster set diagonally against the back of a taco shop. “How far back do I have to go?”

  “Just a block.” Mal counted off the streets in his head. “I think there’s two alleys and then the motel.”

  “Bastard better be there. I don’t want to have to fight that wraith off ourselves.” Min winced, working the wheel hard to the left.

  A concrete block hung loose from the back alley wall, unseen until she was upon it. Mortar flew up, a powdery puff hitting the side mirror, a heartbreaking gnashing sound when the car’s quarter panel tore under the block’s jagged edge. The peeling tear curled back paint, plastic, and steel, a long, undulating ripple on the Mustang’s once pristine body.

  Min winced. “Fuck. Ari’s going to make my life miserable.”

  “There!” Mal pointed, a gap between the buildings visible before they were upon it. The hilt of the long dagger he practiced with felt foreign and alien. Despite the long hours of training with a very patient Death, Mal knew he was no closer to being able to defend himself any better than a newborn baby.

  Mal held tight to the seat, the car bucking over the cement hillocks in the pavement. “Go down there. I think it opens up to the front parking lot.”

  “Think? You think it opens up?” Min cracked the steering wheel with her fist, the leather covering buckling beneath the blow.

  The stretch of buildings seemed endless; then the break was suddenly upon them. Barely taking the time to slow down, the woman tapped at the parking brake, using the car’s sideways momentum to hook into the narrow space. Min yanked at the car’s steering wheel, slamming the Mustang between the wall and the back of the motel, striking a load of wooden pallets left behind a liquor store.

  The hood absorbed much of the impact, a plank gouging the flat su
rface and rolling up over the windshield, shattering a spiderweb fracture in the glass. The creased glass splintered, folding inward as the edges of the break began to crumble. Min debated telling Mal to kick the glass out with his foot, but one glance at Mal told her he had other things on his mind. The Horseman’s stormy eyes tracked the darkness clotting the sky above them, concern for the two they’d left behind clear on his face.

  Mal gripped the armrest, trying not to bite his lip. His worry had grown. The summoned bird was fully formed, an enormous airborne shape dropping from the sky, its long tail streaking up behind spread wings. Death will be okay, Mal told himself. Ari was there. No one could beat Ari at his own game.

  Nearly hidden from view, a black tar pylon jutted up from the asphalt. The Mustang’s axel struck it, jerking the car into the air. Min swore when the Mustang’s subframe rocked wildly underneath them. Narrowly missing a chain-link fence, she swerved to avoid being struck by passing vehicles. Ignoring the shuddering coming from the undercarriage, Min gunned the car forward, sliding into the parking lot of the motel. She popped the driver’s side door open, then moved quickly out of the Mustang, casting a quick glance at the winged shadow circling over the next block.

  “Find the kid and let’s go.” Min pulled her mace out of the car, stepping clear of the door. A twitch of movement caught her eye, a curtain flicker from an apartment near the lot. Male, she gathered from the squared-off fingertips she could see, a strong profile hinted at behind the soiled curtains.

  The thinned Veil struck her when Min crossed out of the parking lot’s main slab, a cloying honey-like feeling over her face. It stuck to her, making it hard for her to move forward until she shed the Veil, pulling free of the shadows. Gagging at the taste of the darkness in her throat, Min shook off the sensation, the popping of her ears throwing her off balance.