by Amos Cassidy
Did he think we’d fucked? Was that why he was being such a tosser?
“You’re the one who agreed to put me in here with him. You knew what would happen.” I allowed my lips to curl slowly into a smug smile. “And what do you know, it was just what I needed.” I wasn’t about to tell him I hadn’t gone all the way. It was none of his bloody business.
His lips tightened and he backed away. “I’ll keep the others distracted for as long as I can.” He left.
Bastion cleared his throat. “I’ll take you as far as the entrance to the sewer line. The pipe will take you outside the city into the slums; from there, you’re on your own. Don’t get caught.” He looked me up and down. “That suit is ruined. You’ll have to stay out of sight. You have an hour and a half until dawn. If you’re caught in Inferna when the sun comes up . . . Well, burned flesh isn’t the most pleasant of aromas.”
Great. “Let’s do this.”
ASH
Sewage stinks, like really reeks. I’d taken the sewage pipes back home many times, but nothing had been pumped through them for so long that they were simply dried up, dead places. This waste disposal system was most certainly in use. We made the journey as quickly as we could and emerged in the slums from a hole in the ground covered with a heavy metal disc.
Daemon studied the sky. “The sun will be coming up sooner than I expected.”
Fuck this place and its stupid time jumps. I ran after him as he strode through the marketplace, which was already waking up: Hellions setting up stalls and eyeing us curiously.
“I thought we needed to stay out of sight.”
“There’s no time for that. We have less than fifteen minutes to get you off Infernan land, and we’re a half-hour trek from the Shadowlands.”
Shit. “So what do we do?”
“Stop talking and start running.”
I broke into a run to match his jog. I knew he could leave me in the dust if he wanted to. I also knew that I was probably going to fry because there was no way I was making a half-hour journey in fifteen minutes. I was fast but not that fast. And then, just like the final poop dollop on a metaphorical shit storm, we heard the familiar screech of Sentinels.
“They’ve found us!” Daemon swooped me off my feet and swung me into his arms and then we were running. I say we, but I mean he, of course. I clung on for dear life, my brow breaking into a sweat.
I felt my skin start to burn. The sun was coming up.
The Sentinels were gaining on us, losing altitude, getting lower and lower. Their long shadows provided a moment of bliss until I realised it meant that they were almost on top of us.
We were screwed, so screwed.
And then Daemon began to lose momentum. I studied his profile, the determined tilt to his chin, the high flat cheek bones. Why wasn’t he dumping me and making a run for it?
Another screech hit us, but this was different. It wasn’t coming from behind us, it was coming from in front of us. I looked up. It was the youngling I’d freed, headed right for us. She was magnificent, but no match for the Sentinels.
“Daemon, she’s going to get herself killed.”
Daemon faltered for just a moment before picking up speed again. “It is her debt to pay.”
Debt? What the hell was he on about?
The youngling flew over us, and I heard the angry cries of the Sentinels. Over Daemon’s shoulder, I watched as the youngling dove to evade the larger dragons’ claws, taunting them with her existence. They turned on her in attack, giving us the time we needed to cross into the Shadowlands.
Daemon didn’t set me on my feet straight away, he continued to run as he let out a shrill whistle that almost burst my eardrums.
“What the hell was that?”
“A summons.” He slowed his pace and came to a halt before setting me on my feet. “The sentinels could still follow us. It depends on what their orders are. We need to get as far away as possible, as quickly as we can.”
The sun had come up in Inferna. I could see it glowing red and orange from the Shadowlands. I could feel its heat, but it wasn’t unbearable.
Daemon let out that shrill whistle again, and this time, I heard a response. The purr of an engine, a big engine.
I raised a hand to shield my eyes and looked into the distance. A dust cloud was headed toward us, no, not a dust cloud . . . Calypso.
I turned to Daemon. “How?”
I’m sure I saw the stoic bastard’s lips twitch.
ASH
Our return to Apocalypse had been kind of an anti-climax. Avery grilled me on every aspect of our journey. His eyes were calculating when I described our little jaunt into the Infernan mines and he was quick to re-iterate our bargain.
“You found your friend, and she is safe and whole. Now it’s time to make good on your part of the deal,” he’d said.
And that’s when I’d played my back up card. “I want the food from Jiva’s museum.”
Yeah, the look on his face was priceless, but thank goodness Jiva had capitulated. . Yep, renegotiation. Jiva had agreed to allow me to take food from his little museum and there was plenty, enough to last at least a year, and past that . . . well, I’d cross that bridge when we came to it.A week had passed since my return and I’d taken a few shifts at the bar to pass the time while Jiva gathered the food from his museum. I hadn’t seen Daemon since we got back. I don’t know why that surprised me. Did I really think that just because we’d taken a road trip together, made out, and narrowly escaped death, we’d be best buddies? Yeah, maybe just a smidgen.
Anyway, he was gone, back to his little lair, back to being Daemon, I guess. Did it bother me? It did. And the fact that it bothered me bothered me more. Yeah, lots of bothering going on.
The big picture was more important, though: I’d failed at using my ability. I’d failed at getting my people food. But I’m not one to be easily beaten, and my renegotiation gave us some hope. The way I saw it, I still had the leverage my Shadow eating ability brought, not to mention the fact that I was somehow able to feed the hunger inside Daemon. I glanced at my left hand, the one still covered in ink. I still had that and the one on my right shoulder. Would Daemon call for me when the moon was full, or would he revert to using his girls? I had to say the thought of being that close to him again sent a little thrill through me.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Henry said.
I looked up from my bar cleaning and gave him my cheekiest grin. “It’s gonna take more than a penny to access the filth swimming around up here, I’m telling you, pure x-rated stuff.”
“Ooo, now I have to know.” Henry sidled up.
I laughed. “You wish. Anyway, I’m done here. I have a date with a food wagon.”
Cal emerged from the door behind the bar. He fixed his eyes on me. “You don’t need to come, I give you my word the delivery will be made.”
“I trust you. I just . . . I thought I could see my brother, that’s all, and someone needs to explain to them what’s been going on.”
He nodded curtly. “Well, we should be off.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about Shadows.” I waggled my eyebrows.
***
This time, the journey through the Shadowlands was a strange one, filled with a nervous anxiety of a different kind. I won’t lie, I was running scenarios through my head. How shocked and emotional Clay would be to see me. How amazed Blake would be that I actually managed to pull this off. I’d tell them about the treaty, of course. They had a right to know, and we’d figure out why we’d been lied to all this time. The people would be so grateful for the food, for the truth, and I’d be a hero. Yeah, I was anxious, but it was an anxiousness born of excitement.
I sat at the front of the food wagon with Cal. It was pulled by huge animals that looked like mules on steroids. I didn’t bother to ask why we weren’t taking any backup. With Cal’s stony strength to fend off any physical attack and me to fend off the Shadows, we were pretty much sorted. Behind us were four huge
carts laden with food and supplies, covered in tarp.
We travelled in silence for a while, through the darkness lit only by thin fingers of moonlight. It was eerie, and I kept waiting for a Shadow to jump out at me, but nothing happened. I realised that this was the perfect chance to get to know one of the other key players at Apocalypse. Since I was going to be staying there for the foreseeable future, and would be working alongside Cal, it seemed like a good idea to get to know him. Besides, I had this idea of somehow convincing Clay to come with me, although deep down I knew he’d never leave Shelter. He saw it as his responsibility to keep the place ticking.
“So, Cal? How long have you worked at Apocalypse?”
“A long time.”
“Okay, and how well do you know Jiva, Avery, and Daemon?”
“As well as one can know family.”
Okay, now what? I was trying to bond here. How the hell had Freya managed to penetrate that stone exterior?
“What do you do in your spare time? Any hobbies?”
He didn’t reply right away, and I turned to look at him. Even in the gloom he looked decidedly shifty.
“Um, Cal?”
“Crochet.”
“What?”
“I like to crochet.” He slid a quick glance my way. “Well, out with it.”
I frowned. “What?” Was I supposed to know what this crochet thing he was talking about was?
“Make your sarcastic comments. You were going to find out soon enough.”
“I’m confused. Is this crochet a Shadowland thing? I’ve never heard of it.”
This time, he looked at me full in the face, his eye brows rising. “You haven’t?”
I shook my head and waited while he examined my face for signs that I was pulling his leg.
“Well, fancy that.”
He set his eyes back on the road.
And that was the end of the conversation. My stomach was too jiggly with nerves to think of new topics. We were taking a shortcut through the Shadowlands, through the Beyond, as my people liked to call it. I could see the shimmer up ahead that indicated the entrance to the Cusp.
We drew abreast of it, and Cal brought the wagon to a halt. The strange mulelike beasts whinnied, impatient to get going.
“Are you ready?”
I nodded.
He flicked the reins and the cart jolted forward. I held my breath and we passed through, darkness and light flashing before my squinted eyes and then pealed back to reveal the dead, grey wasteland of the Cusp.
Almost home.
Cal snapped the reins and the mules broke into a trot.
“You know the way?” I asked.
He nodded.
“How often have you come here?”
“Only once. When the veil separating your world from ours fell, many Shadowlanders were curious to see what a mortal looked like.”
“Curious? That’s not the way I would put it. Your people raped and killed mine. You ravaged our world, and we were powerless to run because we were cut off.”
“Be grateful your part of the world touches upon the Shadowlands and not Inferna or certain parts of Enchansa. Those mortals begged for death.”
“The other pockets of humanity?”
He nodded. “Our four worlds are bound together, twisted and entwined in a pattern that is impossible to trace. The Shadowlands run between all the realms. They separate our worlds, and yet every realm touches upon them.”
My brain hurt from trying to visualise the four worlds.
“Time runs backward and forward and sideways, it is what makes us immortal, and it is what makes you mortal.”
I was so confused, but I filed away his words for later. Right now, I needed to see my people, and there was the Horizon, so gloriously vibrant in the slate grey of the Cusp.
“We’re here,” I said.
He brought the wagon to a halt and climbed out.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll be waiting for you here.”
“You’re not coming with me?”
“I assume that’s obvious.”
“What if I don’t come back? I have what I want, I don’t need to come back, you know.” I have no idea why I decided to point this little fact out. I had no intention of going back on my deal with the big bosses. A one-year solution was nothing compared to a lifetime of food for my people. I’d been given this ability for a reason, I had to believe that, but I still couldn’t help testing him.
“You’ll be back.”
I studied his face, much too expressive to be made of such immovable material. He looked . . . sad. I didn’t like it. It was like I’d kicked a teddy bear, a very large, stone teddy bear.
“Fine, I’ll be back, and maybe you can teach me to do that crochet thing you like.”
He nodded, patted the mule closest to him on the rump, and stepped back.
I snapped the reins and we were moving.
Through the Horizon.
Home.
CLAY
They were being hunted, beasts on all fours chased them through the street. Clay was tiring, his body unused to such prolonged exertion.
He stumbled and fell.
Up ahead, Ryder skidded to a halt and made to head back for him.
Clay heard the beating of wings. Something moved across the moon. It broke through the dark sky, a beast with wings. No, beast was the wrong word for it. The creature was magnificent beyond all imagination, its shimmering green body moving through the air with grace and precision
A howl ripped the air.
Ryder screamed, and the thing in the sky was forgotten as Clay sensed the four legged creature lunging for him. The world lit up with heat and flame, and the howl died into a whimper.
Clay raised himself off the ground and turned to look at the ashy remains of the animal that had been tracking them for the last half hour. The flying creature had burned it to cinder. The beating of wings grew nearer and the shadow of the flying creature blocked out the moon.
As it came closer, the winged creature, which was covered in dark green scales, locked its amber eyes on him. He felt a rush of terror and a wave of excitement, one after the other.
He couldn’t move.
“Clay, come on. Move!”
Ryder yanked him hard, pulling him across the ground. Clay stumbled found his feet and fell into a sprint..
The thumping sound of the wings was getting louder.
“This way!”
They ran along pavement, trying to hide in the shadows, attempting to lose the creature. But the thing was on them. He heard the growl.
“Clay!”
Ryder, being faster, was already too far ahead to do anything but call his name.
The ground trembled as the creature landed behind him. Clay couldn’t help but turn and face it. Amber eyes scrutinised him, pinning his feet in place. The creature sniffed at him, lowering its long neck. Mother, its snout was long, it’s body incredible. It cocked its head and sniffed some more, wisps of steam curling from its nostrils.
“Clay!”
The creature’s head shot up, and it bared rows of deadly teeth. An incredible heat washed over him, and he could smell burning.
“Get away from there!”
The creature roared. Clay cupped his ears against the booming shriek that rattled his bones. It was then that he saw the powerful legs, all four of them, and the claws.
“Clay, just back away, slowly.”
He turned to face Ryder, who was partly masked in shadow.
The creature lowered its head again and nuzzled his side, almost knocking him over.
His heart was racing. It had saved him from the four-legged beast, maybe it didn’t mean to hurt him. Clay itched to stroke it. Fucking hell, this was nuts! This creature . . . he felt something from it, something he couldn’t quite put into words or even pictures. But he knew it wouldn’t hurt him. At least he hoped it wouldn’t. No, he knew it.
“Hello,” Clay said.
The
creature nuzzled him some more.
Clay reached out his hand.
“Clay?” Ryder asked.
The creature closed its eyes as he made contact. Clay stroked the scales, which were dry to the touch, and the creature seemed to enjoy it.
“Is that a smile?” Clay said.
“What are you doing? Clay!”
The creature opened one eye and snorted again.
“Get away from it,” Ryder said. “What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s okay,” Clay said. “Really. It won’t hurt me.” He continued to stroke the animal’s snout.
“How the hell do you know that for sure? Don’t be a fool, Clay!”
“It saved me. I know it.”
“Or maybe it was aiming for you and missed. You don’t know shit! Dammit!”
“What do you expect me to do?” He kept his voice at a low level, injecting a soothing tone into it. The creature seemed to like it.
“I can’t believe this. After that shit in the Cusp here we are. I don’t know how to save you!”
“You don’t have to. Why don’t you come over?”
“Think about Ash. If you die you’ll be abandoning her. Remember how that felt?”
Both of the creature’s eyes opened.
Ryder was right. What was he doing? He stopped stroking the creature. “Sorry, but I have to go now.”
The creature elicited a rumble—not quite a growl. It was a softer sound.
“It was nice to meet you.” No matter what Ryder said, he knew he was safe.
“Walk away,” Ryder said.
The creature rose, spreading its wings.
“Oh, Mother!” Ryder yelled. “Run!
“I—”
With gentle ease, the creature grasped the collar of Clay’s top and lifted him in the air.
“Clay!”
“Shit!” He was so sure he hadn’t been wrong. “Please don’t ea—”
The creature swung him round and onto its back. He landed inelegantly, having to grab one of the spiny ridges to prevent himself from slipping off. The animal nudged him gently until he was sitting astride the ridges, which stretched all the way down its back like a trail of tiny mountains.