by Cheree Alsop
He shoved the board up with his shoulder and let it fall. The door flew open.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Officer Ling demanded as he rushed inside.
“Where’s Lilian?” Aleric asked.
“Officer Teri is watching over her.” Ling looked from him to the dragon, then back. His gaze lingered on Aleric’s chest. “You’re bleeding.”
Aleric glanced down in surprise. Gashes showed through his scrubs shirt. He couldn’t remember when the dragon had gotten him. “At least I have enough blood left to bleed,” he said.
“Do I need to ask why you wouldn’t?” Ling pressed.
Aleric knew the distrustful look the officer threw toward the wide front door was meant for Vallia.
“I think you figured it out,” Aleric replied. He motioned to the dragon. “Can you have some men keep watch here? It wouldn’t hurt to throw a few more ropes or chains around the beast to make sure it doesn’t work free.” He surveyed his handiwork. The Almedragon struggled, but it didn’t have enough room to get leverage. With a little luck, the bindings would stay, but at this point, Aleric didn’t hold much faith in luck.
“Will do,” Officer Ling replied. “Where are you going?”
The officer followed him to Officer Teri’s car. Teri opened the door when he neared, revealing Lilian’s still form on the back seat.
“She doesn’t look good,” Officer Teri said with worry on her face. “I wanted to call an ambulance, but Ling told me to wait for you.”
Aleric gathered Lilian up in his arms. He couldn’t suppress the terror that filled him as the chill of her skin seeped through his arms.
“She’s too far gone; nobody can help her here.”
“Where, then?” Officer Ling asked.
“To Blays,” Aleric replied. “It’s the only chance I have to save her life.”
“Will you be back?” Officer Ling asked in a level tone.
Aleric read the concern in the officer’s gaze. There was friendship there, and comradery, things he hadn’t felt since the werewolves had been killed.
He nodded. “Edge City is home. If there’s any chance to return, I’ll be here.”
“Can I give you a ride to the Rift?” Teri offered.
“I’d appreciate it,” Aleric replied.
“What about the giant lizard while you’re gone?” Officer Darold asked. It was clear by his expression that he wasn’t thrilled about the thought of watching over the dragon during Aleric’s absence.
Aleric gave the disgruntled officer a half-smile. “I’d recommend keeping your distance.”
He climbed into the car to the sound of Darold’s grumbled reply.
Chapter Ten
Aleric stepped through the Rift with Lilian in his arms. He glanced back once at Officer Teri before the view faded. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the Rift.
“Come back to us,” she called out.
“I will,” he promised.
The Rift wavered, then shrunk until it disappeared. Aleric realized he had forgotten to ask the officer to grab the salamander totem. He hoped she wouldn’t leave it. Something like that would be dangerous in the wrong hands.
A feeling of wrongness swept through the werewolf when he turned around. The sand scent of the Glass District was tinged with something else, a smell he didn’t recognize. It was rank and cloying, clinging to the walls and pavement. It chased away the childhood scents he remembered and replaced them with something dark and sinister.
The second warning he had was the lack of citizens in the streets. During evening in Drake City, especially in the bustling work districts, people should have been hurrying home from their jobs. He was used to seeing children playing in the streets, fauns and fairies conversing on the corners, ipotane, the dark centaurs, riding by without looking at those around them. The streets were conspicuously absent of the sound of hooves, laughter, the striking hammers of the Ironwork trolls still at work in the Metal District, and the ominous howls and moans that came from the dark alleys closest to the Wash. The silence pressed in from every side.
“Hello?” Aleric shouted.
His voice echoed off the buildings around him. A cold shiver ran down his spine and his hold on Lilian tightened.
“It’s not safe.”
Aleric spun around, but the source of the gravelly voice was nowhere to be seen.
“Where are you?” he demanded. Worry for Lilian was heightened by the never-quiet city streets that felt as still as death.
“This way,” the voice whispered.
Filled with uncertainty and suspicion, Aleric walked toward the building on the edge of the Metal District. He glanced down the street that separated both of the districts, expecting at any moment to see the reason for the chillingly stagnant atmosphere. He couldn’t decide if the lack of a source was worse than knowing.
“In here,” the voice directed.
Aleric ducked behind a sliding metal door. The steel and copper scents of the warehouse touched his nose, but couldn’t quite drive away the lingering, unknown smell.
He refused to go any further into the darkness. His wolven eyesight made out the hulking forms of machinery covered by canvas. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.
A light flickered on. It was pointed at Aleric’s face. He squinted, trying to see past the beam to the bearer. He knew his eyes reflected the light’s glow.
“A werewolf and a human,” the gravelly voice surmised before stating, “Can’t say I’ve seen your kind since the Fallow Conflict.”
“I’m the only one left to see,” Aleric replied. Thoughts of the werewolf that obeyed the orders of the Chosen from the Fervor clan surfaced in the back of his mind.
“You might be right,” the speaker replied. “Does your name happen to be Aleric Bayne?”
Aleric took a step back. He didn’t know why anyone in Drake City would know his name. If the man talking had been sent by the vampires or was one himself, both Aleric and Lilian were in trouble. He debated ducking back out into the streets and taking a chance figuring things out on his own, but his instincts whispered in the back of his mind. He didn’t know how long Lilian had left, and there was nowhere else to turn.
He swallowed and gave a nod. “I’m Aleric.”
The flashlight lowered enough to give him his vision back. Aleric blinked at the sight of an older man wearing glasses and a coat of what looked like metal. He realized it was tinfoil wrapped around an existing jacket.
A smile spread across the man’s face. “My name’s Mathen Silver. You helped my children get back home.” His voice cracked with emotion. He swallowed and gestured toward the street. “It’s too dangerous for them to be out here, so I’ve been keeping an eye on the Rift for them in case anyone shows up. I didn’t expect to be able to thank you in person. Thank you.” He paused, then said, “I’d shake your hand, like I promised my wife I would, but your hands look a little worse for the wear.”
His words filled Aleric with relief. “I’m just happy to find a friend. There aren’t too many of them left for werewolves.” He looked down at Lilian. The pallor of her skin sent a shard of fear through the werewolf. “I need help finding Death. She doesn’t have much time.”
“Looks like she may have found him already,” Mathen said, his voice gentle. He set the back of his hand on Lilian’s cheek. “Are you sure there’s time for her?”
Aleric gave a determined nod. “I’ll fight with my last breath if I have to.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Mathen replied. He gestured to the street behind the door. “But if you’re out there long, it just might.”
“What’s going on?” Aleric asked. “I’ve never seen Drake City like this.”
“It’s all of Blays, as far as I can tell,” the banshee replied. He grabbed the edge of the sliding metal door and pushed it just enough to reveal the street. “They came a few days ago.”
“Who’s they?” Aleric asked.
“Watch,” Mathen said. “It doesn’t take
them long.”
He grabbed a scrap of metal near the door and threw it across the street. It hit the opposite wall with a bang and fell to the sidewalk.
Aleric’s heart thundered in his ears. Impatience filled him. If he didn’t get to Doyle, the Fourth Horseman, as soon as possible, any chance he had of saving Lilian would be gone.
“I don’t see—” he began, but Mathen cut him off with a lift of the hand.
“There,” the banshee breathed.
Aleric followed the man’s gaze and his heart stilled. In the darkening sky above Drake City flew a huge creature he had never seen before. It had the long, writhing body of a green-scaled snake, but massive black wings spanned the air. Its angular head swept from side to side as it searched the ground below for the source of the sound. Just before its slit pale eyes turned to the door, Mathen pushed it silently shut.
Aleric stared at the banshee. “What was that?”
“A zilant,” the man replied. “There are hundreds of them by our last count.”
“What are they doing here?”
The banshee lowered his head. “Terrorizing, killing, eating women and children. We’d fight them, but they’re too strong. Nobody dares to leave their houses. People are starving in their apartments and homes.”
“What about your coat?” Aleric asked.
Mathen glanced down. “They seem to hunt by heat detection. We’ve found that if we shield our bodies like this, it gives us a few minutes of safety, but it’s a poor protection and doesn’t last long.”
Aleric nodded. His mind raced as he thought of the flying snake overhead. “Who sent them?”
“We’re not sure. They came overnight,” the banshee said. “One morning we awoke to find them eating anyone who dared to venture into the streets.” His voice was haunted when he said, “Their wings make a terrible, terrible sound when they swoop down to grab someone. It’s something you don’t soon forget.”
Aleric gave the door a searching look as if he could see the beasts outside. “So how do I get to the forest?”
“You’re going to need help,” the banshee replied.
They slid the door open slowly. Aleric checked the sky.
“Sometimes they creep along the ground. They’re impossible to hear,” the banshee warned him. “Maybe being a werewolf will be an advantage.” He gave Aleric a knowing look. “That would be a first, right?”
Aleric cracked a small smile. “You’re right about that.”
“Let me carry her,” the banshee offered.
Aleric gave the man a distrustful look. The thought of handing Lilian over to a stranger filled him with protectiveness.
Mathen read his look. “You’ve got to trust someone here. Even with your hands like that, I figure you’re better off fighting them than I am.”
“You could scream at it,” Aleric said. The thought of how debilitating Mathen’s son Daylen’s cry had been sent a shudder through him.
The banshee gave the werewolf a knowing smile. “And put you out, too? That doesn’t seem smart. Besides, from what I’ve seen, it doesn’t work on them like it does on other fae.”
Aleric couldn’t argue against the man’s common sense. He gave Lilian over with lingering hesitation, but the man clutched her close, cradling her body as if he carried his own daughter.
“Right, then,” Mathen said; the hint of trepidation in his voice wasn’t lost on the werewolf. “Let’s get out of here.”
Aleric led the way out the door. With his gaze shifting between the dark sky and the darker alleys, he led the way toward the Glass District. Drake Woods lay at the far end past the scrap yards the orphans used to rummage through for anything they could sell. He knew exactly how many places there were for creatures to hide between the streets and the woods, and it was far too many to feel comfortable.
“Did you hear that?” the banshee whispered.
Aleric nodded, but the scraping sound wasn’t anything to get alarmed over. Most gremlins had three toes on each foot. It gave them a recognizable sound he had learned long ago meant an alley was clear. While most avoided the company of gremlins, the opposite also applied.
He led the way past the first two alleys. A whisper of warning ran down his spine and he stared into the next one, sure he had seen something disappear down the far end. If one of the zilants did find them, they would be in serious trouble. Aleric didn’t have a weapon, his hands were pretty much useless, and if the banshee did scream, he was a good as dead. He had to ensure that their passage to the forest was clear.
The banshee had mentioned heat.
“I have an idea,” Aleric whispered.
“Where are you going?” Mathen asked in alarm when the werewolf passed him to go back the way they had come.
“Lay low,” Aleric directed. “You’ll understand in a minute.”
As much as he didn’t want to leave Lilian in the banshee’s care, the man was right. He didn’t have anyone else he could trust. He hoped the fact that he had returned the banshee’s children was enough to ensure that Mathen didn’t leave Lilian in the street and return to the relative safety of his home.
Aleric ducked back into the warehouse where Mathen had led him. He crossed through it quickly, his werewolf eyesight making it easy to navigate the machinery without faltering. He pushed through the back door and gave a nod of satisfaction. From what he remembered, each warehouse kept rubbish stacks away from the buildings to prevent fires from spreading. That was exactly what the werewolf was counting on.
He found a huge pile of fine steel threads left over from the carving and shaving of steel products made in the warehouse. The pile towered far above his head. He knew some were used to scrape and smooth rust from the machines, but the rest had been dumped to melt into useable materials later.
Aleric searched quickly through other piles and pulled out a chunk of jagged cut steel. He winced at the pain to his hands as he pulled the steel free, but it couldn’t be helped. He raised the steel above his head and slammed it down on a rock beside the pile of fine shavings. The sound bounced off the back wall of the warehouse and echoed along the alleys. Fear prickled down Aleric’s spine as he strained his ears and eyes for signs that the zilant had heard him.
After a moment of silence, Aleric lifted the steel again. He was afraid another throw would alert the zilants, but he didn’t have much of a choice. That was his eventual goal after all, but he would prefer not to be there when they showed up. It took two more throws for the sparks to catch on the threads. Shadows tangled in the air above. By the time the spark spread, other writhing shadows had appeared.
Aleric slunk back to the brick wall that surrounded the warehouse rubbish yard. He was careful to keep to the darkest shadows as the flame spread quickly through the steel fibers. He held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sparks that ate the shavings. It wouldn’t do to destroy his night vision when they had a forest to get to.
Aleric reached the warehouse and glanced back before he ducked inside. The fire had spread to scraps of lumber and blazed high. The air above was a tangle of winged snakes. He hoped that would keep their heat vision occupied for a while.
“Did you do that?” Mathen asked when Aleric appeared back in the alley.
“I figured it would keep them off our trail,” Aleric answered. He gently took Lilian back in his arms.
“My kids were right; you’re smart for a werewolf,” the banshee said.
Aleric snorted. “Thanks, I think.”
They made their way through the Glass District, careful to check the streets before crossing. It wouldn’t do to run into a mud golem or a lacuna while searching the skies for the snakes. Aleric breathed a sigh of relief when he crossed into the deeper shadows of the forest.
The banshee gave the trees a fearful look. Banshees were known for their fear of wood nymphs. Aleric didn’t know where this originated, but he had never seen a banshee or a wood nymph in the same place at the same time.
“This is where I must leave yo
u,” Mathen told him. “With the zilants around, I don’t dare leave my family for more time than I’ve done already.”
“I understand,” Aleric replied. “I appreciate your help. I’ll find Death myself.”
“As long as it’s you doing the finding,” Mathen said.
Aleric nodded. “It will be.”
He made sure the banshee crossed safely into the shadows of the buildings once more before he strode beneath the trees.
Most of the citizens of Drake City avoided the woods at all costs. Aleric had always felt at home sheltered in the coolness beneath the branches and leaves. He wondered if it was the wolf side of him, but there was something about the swaying of the trees and the brush of the breeze across his face that soothed him.
Yet Drakathan roamed the woods as well. Fear of what they would do if they caught their wayward slave sent shards of ice through Aleric’s veins. He knew the location of Death’s simple home near the heart of the forest. Getting there was another matter.
Lilian’s breathing faltered. Aleric looked down at her. The sound of her heartbeat barely reached his ears. He was losing her. Fear for her life filled him with determination.
“Hold on,” Aleric whispered. He pushed forward through the trees.
The brush was thickest around Death’s hut. It was small and obscure. From the outside, the tiny cottage appeared abandoned. A tree with a twisted trunk and limbs without leaves had grown through one wall, weaving and bending the boards to its will until the mass of bark and branches took over. The roof leaned ominously to one side. Grass and weeds covered the shingles so that it looked as though it belonged to the forest floor and the woods were fighting to take it back. The grass swayed in the midnight breeze, making the hut look like a beast crouched in the night. The single window on the side Aleric approached was boarded up. Only a sliver of light showed through the tiniest crack, the only indication that anyone was inside.
Aleric hurried around to the front of the hut. The moment he rounded the corner, a human shriek stopped him in his tracks. The werewolf let out a breath and glanced up. Black birds known as devil birds watched him from the darkness of the branches above. Heads cocked to the sides as they regarded the couple below. Several more shrieks sounded and a shiver ran down Aleric’s spine. The cry of the devil bird was said to foretell imminent death. Aleric gritted his teeth, determined for them to be wrong.