by Emma James
It was a fair point. Shrugging, Leonie turned back to the merchant—but then a dark shadow caught her eye. She glanced back to Adrik—to behind Adrik—and in the distance, a towering figure stood at the mouth of an alley, his or her entire being covered by a massive black cloak. Leonie couldn’t even make out a face.
Leonie frowned.
The figure didn’t move. Leonie swore that he or she stared at Leonie, but there was no way to be sure.
Adrik nudged her. “Leonie?”
Shaking her head, she smiled at the merchant and gave her money for four slices. “My apologies. I was distracted.”
The merchant flinched at the money. “At least let me offer the prophetess a discount!”
“The prophetess?” a bystander whispered, getting out of line in the adjacent shop and walking up to Leonie. “By the gods, it is true!”
Leonie’s smile wavered, her eyes snapping back to the cloaked figure—one who remained frozen in his or her spot, like a bleak statue. Her skin crawled, anxiety jittering through her veins.
It didn’t help when more bystanders crowded Leonie, all of them whispering praises of her and Mathsus. The gentle voices roared into mass nonsense, their warm bodies pressing closer and closer to Leonie and Adrik.
Leonie ground her teeth behind her waning smile. Quickly, she lowered the coins to a small space on the table before snatching few slices of whatever pastry she could grab. Then she spun to Adrik and handed him all of the food. “Here, just—just eat it all. I can’t even breathe right now.”
“Prophetess!” a woman cried. “Prophetess, we honor your presence!”
Others loudly agreed.
“Thank you,” Leonie said, but her voice was drowned out by several others giving her praise.
Adrik motioned his head toward her, making her furrow her brow. He handed her back the pastries, and with a tight frown, she gathered them in her arms. As icing sank into the fibers of her clothes, Adrik bent down and scooped her up.
She giggled in surprise, pastries tumbling over her gut as she wiggled in Adrik’s loose grip. “Adrik!”
“Pardon us,” Adrik announced to the crowd, gawking at him. “The prophetess has a lot of traveling to do today, so I’m afraid we must take our leave.” He took a small step forward and cleared his throat.
The bystanders shuffled back.
He took another step, a bit bigger.
The bystanders shuffled back more.
Leonie bit her lip to tame her grin as she glanced at Adrik. “My hero.”
He shrugged, eyes glinting with pride and amusement.
She glanced over at all the pastries before grabbing one that seemed relatively intact—and without any of her clothes’ fibers on it—and offered it to him. “Want a bite?”
He cocked an eyebrow at the sugary bread held in front of his mouth. Then he leaned forward and took a bite, his lips grazing the edge of her pointer finger.
She giggled again, cradling the dessert. Her stomach released a high-pitched whine, encouraging her to take a large bite, herself. As she did so—raspberries and sugar coated her mouth—she looked back at the dispersing bystanders.
There, down the street walked the cloaked figure. It seemed to follow her and Adrik. The figure—like a lanky phantom—weaved around people while keeping his or her face fixed at Leonie. The movement struck Leonie as unnatural.
Leonie’s heart thudded quicker. “Uh, Adrik?” she whispered, moving to hide part of her face behind his shoulder.
“Yes?” he said around his bite of food. Then he swallowed.
“We’re being followed.”
“Of course we are. You’re the prophetess. Can I get another bite?”
“No,” she hissed, “I mean someone is stalking us right now. Look.”
Adrik glanced over his shoulder. He stiffened, steps faltering a little as he faced forward again. His lips pressed together in a thin frown.
“Never seen anyone that tall before.” He swerved, picking up his pace and pushed past several people to get off the main road and back onto the smaller road, behind the shops. “Is he still following us?”
She craned her neck to peer over his arm.
The dusty road was bare, save for the few bystanders who peered around buildings to watch her leave. She released a long breath, body relaxing.
And then the dark figure soared above the bystanders blocking their view, his feet thudding against the dirt road a few meters away from them. As he rose, he quickened his pace toward Leonie and Adrik.
Leonie nearly choked on her fear. “Adrik,” she wheezed.
He glanced over his shoulder again and cursed. He quickened his pace even more and his grip on her tightened.
The cloaked figure moved faster. His bony knees pushed against the dark cloth that covered him. His strides were long—longer than they should be.
“Adrik, I don’t know what that thing is,” she whispered to him. “It’s getting closer.”
Adrik ran.
Leonie gasped, the pastries bouncing out of her lap and crashing to the ground. She gripped Adrik’s arm and gawked at the figure, increasing its speed, as well—so fast that it's blurred, angled frame aimed like an arrow at Adrik’s back.
“He’s a demon or a Fader or something,” she rambled, quivering and clawing into Adrik’s arm. “He’s going to catch us. We have to do something.”
She reached for the pack on her back, but it was pinned between herself and Adrik’s arms. She tugged on the top of it in a desperate attempt to free some kind of weapon.
Adrik turned, sprinting past the rows of homes.
The figure dashed after them, its cloak flapping in the air with each swift step.
Leonie squirmed and pulled harder at her pack. She had not needed her dagger or bow in several days—forgotten in its storage—and the moment she needed them the most—she growled, “Adrik!”
Adrik jumped over a ditch, the ground beneath his feet feeling harder as sharper tremors shot up his limbs and rumbled into her.
The figure was meters away from them.
Splashing water graced Leonie’s ears and she faced forward again.
A river. Massive in width and flat in appearance, it was almost difficult to tell just how rapidly the water rushed by. It was only because of a small twig floating on the surface that Leonie saw the true intensity of the river’s might.
“Adrik!” she said warningly, but it was too late.
Adrik’s feet landed on the edge of the river—on a sharp edge of firm dirt and dying grass—before he pushed off the ground and dove into the water, Leonie clung to his back.
EPILOGUE
The Gargan protector—with the prophetess in his arms—had the gall to jump into the river, the dark waters concealing him and the young woman completely from sight.
Growling, he stopped at the river’s edge, his cloak rustling against the gentle breeze that followed the river onward. He stared at the rapid water for several moments in search of the prophetess, but she never broke the river’s surface.
He released a long sigh. His wings trembled and ached within their tight confinement, and he stretched his back and long limbs in hopes of alleviating the discomfort. The gears in his legs whirled loudly until he relaxed his posture yet again.
The prophetess must’ve been carried farther down the river—much farther, though this was assuming that the man of rock wasn’t anchoring her.
He cracked his jaw. If she died because of such idiocy…
Shaking his head, he walked alongside the river—one long stride after another—in search of the one who could alter fate.
Bonus Book - Zhekan Mates - Aerdan
CHAPTER ONE
Angelica
“Angelica! Come on, snap out of it!”
Angelica glanced up just in time to see the crumpled paper ball flying by her face. With a small yelp of surprise, she darted to the side and grabbed the wad of paper. She narrowed her eyes and frowned.
“What’s all
this,” Angelica asked. “Trying to attack me now, are you?”
Her best friend, Stacy, stood with her hands on her hips. She cocked her head to the side and smirked. “Sorry,” Stacy said. “You’re just really spacing out today.”
Angelica bit her lip and flushed. “I know,” she said. “Sorry.” She heaved a sigh. “I just can’t stop thinking about that stupid dream I had last night.”
Stacy raised an eyebrow and stared until Angelica began to squirm.
“The one with that really hot guy?”
Angelica’s flush deepened, turning her pale cheeks into bright red circles. “Forget it,” she said. “I never should’ve told you.”
Stacy laughed. “Au contraire,” she said. “I don’t think you told me quite enough!”
Angelica shook her head, sending tangles of wild dark hair flying around her shoulders. “Definitely not,” she said. “Come on, we still have a lot to do before we can close up.”
Stacy rolled her eyes back in her head and leaned against the counter, pretending to faint. “My feet are killing me,” she whined. “I can’t wait to hit happy hour.”
“Oh, shit. Was that tonight?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Stacy said. She groaned. “Angelica, it’s been like…weeks since you came out with us!”
Angelica wrinkled her nose. “Can’t we just order a pizza and pick up some wine? Maybe we could find something good on Netflix,” she added. “Oh, there’s that new horror movie! What was it called? A Night in the Shadows?”
Stacy gave her an odd look. “Ang, babe, you’re twenty-five,” she said. “You don’t have to be so elderly.”
Angelica sighed. “I’m not elderly,” she sniffed. “I just hate going to bars. All those gross guys drooling all over themselves to buy us drinks…and then turning into major assholes just because we don’t want to sleep with them as a way to say ‘thank you.’”
Stacy narrowed her eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said. “But come on. You’re elderly,” she added. “You knit and crochet and I can’t even remember the last time you stayed up past ten.”
Angelica tried to suppress the annoyance building inside of her. “Yeah, well, maybe you’re right,” she shot back. “But having to get up at seven-thirty just to get here by nine is kind of a fun-killer, you know?”
Stacy softened. “I know,” she said. She gave her best friend a pleading look. “It’s just, I miss hanging out with you. Holly and Melinda are fun, you know, but all they can do is talk about themselves.”
Angelica burst out laughing. “So we’ll have a girls’ night tonight,” she said. “We could get pizza, or Chinese, or whatever. We don’t have to hit the bars.”
“I promised Holly I’d meet her at that new tapas place for sangria,” Stacy whined. “I can’t flake out. She’ll totally kill me.” Stacy looked at Angelica with pleading eyes. “It’ll be fun,” she said in a promising tone. “That place won’t be like, full of ex-frat boys. It’s…classy,” she added.
“Yeah, and I bet one drink is fifteen bucks,” Angelica said. “I think I’ll pass, Stace. Thanks, though.”
“Girls!” Nadine, the gallery owner, stepped into the back room and frowned. “I don’t think those pieces are going to hang themselves! We have to get ready for tomorrow,” she added nervously. “It’s going to be our biggest exhibition yet.”
“Sure, Nadine,” Angelica said quickly. “Sorry. I was just taking a break.”
Nadine’s eyes flashed in annoyance but she stepped back and allowed the two girls to meekly pass. As soon as they were in the gallery, Angelica tried to focus on the task at hand – hanging large swaths of muslin from the ceiling. The effect was meant to simulate the waves of the ocean, but privately, Angelica thought it just looked like a fifth-grader’s art project.
Angelica had studied art in college, with hopes of opening her own gallery. After graduating, she and Stacy moved to New York, where they both found work at the same gallery. But the art wasn’t much like what Angelica had studied. Nadine, the owner, favored modern, trendy artists. Sometimes Angelica wondered if she shouldn’t be trying harder to make it on her own. But the thought of “networking” or anything like it, made her clam up inside. Maybe it’s better this way, she thought as she reached for another stiff piece of cloth. At least this way I don’t have to worry about being a failure.
By the time Angelica and Stacy had finished decorating the main gallery room, it was almost eight. Angelica’s stomach was rumbling with hunger and she felt light-headed and weak.
“I’ve got to get something to eat,” Angelica said to Stacy as they were locking up the front doors of the gallery. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out, my blood sugar must be crazy low.”
“Come to the tapas place with me,” Stacy said. She checked her watch and groaned. “I bet they have great like, paella, or whatever.”
“Maybe,” Angelica said. “I’m so hungry I feel like I could eat my own shoe at this point.”
“It’s in midtown, we can probably get a cab if we hurry,” Stacy said. “This way, I bet there’s one on the corner.”
Angelica followed Stacy out into the chill, winter night. A blustery breeze whipped at her pale skin and dark hair, and she shut her dark eyes as a particularly fierce blast assaulted her. The two women walked quickly down the sidewalk and over to a line of parked yellow cabs.
After scuttling into the safety of the warm cab interior, Stacy leaned forward and gave the address. The driver grunted in response and the cab moved away from the curb, joining a long snake of traffic.
“I hope this place isn’t too far,” Angelica said. “I’m starving.”
“It shouldn’t be too long,” Stacy said. “Hey, I’m glad you’re coming.”
“Just for something to eat,” Angelica warned. “And then I’m going straight home.”
“Yeah, right.” Stacy smirked. “See if we let you.”
Angelica rolled her eyes. “You’re forgetting that I’m an adult who can make my own decisions,” she said.
“Yeah, but come on – would you rather stay home alone with your sad box of wine or hang out with us?” Stacy batted her lashes.
Normally, Angelica would have laughed. But her low blood sugar was making her feel more irritated than usual and she slumped against the window, resting her forehead on the cold glass.
The cab slowed to a crawl.
“Sorry,” the driver grunted without bothering to turn around. “Traffic’s bad tonight.”
Great, Angelica thought. It’s going to be nine before I even get anything to eat and I feel like I’m going to pass out.
The cab jerked slowly down the avenue, then screeched to a stop as the traffic light flashed bright red. Angelica groaned – the intersection was jammed with cars, brake lights filling the air with cherry light.
Angelica sighed. “Can you let me out here?” She called to the driver.
“Hey, where are you going?” Stacy turned to her friend and frowned. “I thought you decided to come with!”
“I’m too hungry,” Angelica said. She fumbled in her wallet and passed a five-dollar bill to Stacy. “Sorry, I just can’t wait anymore.”
Stacy frowned. She opened her mouth to protest but her cries were lost in the sounds of honking cars and screaming people. Angelica pushed open the cab door and climbed into the frigid air, shivering before both feet were on the ground.
Great, Angelica thought as she started walking towards the gallery at a brisk trot. I’m even farther from my normal stop than usual, and it’s freaking freezing out here.
Angelica pulled the ruff of her coat up and nestled her face inside her scarf. The wool didn’t do much except for chill her even more – condensation from her breath clung to the damp fabric. Angelica felt chilled to the bone as she hustled down street after unfamiliar street. Neon signs flashed in her face, advertising everything from palm reading to falafel. As she stopped on the curb and waited for the signal to change, she glanced around. There
was a seedy-looking pizza place on the corner, mostly empty, but brightly-lit and open. Angelica’s mouth watered as the greasy aroma of dough and cheese filled her nose.
I’ll just have one slice, and then I’ll go home, she decided. At least then I won’t be starving on the train.
Angelica pushed inside and ordered a slice of pepperoni. When it was ready, she ate at the counter, standing up and not even caring that the greasy slice burned her tongue. As soon as she’d finished, she felt measurably better.