H.B. Lyne
One man stands alone against the dark.
Felix Jones has lost everything. Where will he turn for solace?
When his PTSD worsens and the dark voice inside his head points his trigger finger in one direction, will there be anyone left in his life to talk him down from a dangerous and deadly course of action?
Chapter One
Ragged Edge slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position on the hot, damp grass. The fire at the centre of their circle had died down and the embers glowed softly, no longer casting much light. He looked to his right and saw Warden-of-Stones sit up and rub her face. Black Rat, Mjolnir, Two-Doors-Down and Mercury all sat themselves up and shook their heads. They had shifted back to their human forms, a sure sign they had been rendered unconscious. He could feel their confusion and fear rippling through his mind through their pack connection. It was a special kind of empathy that united them and kept them aware of one another at all times.
“What happened?” Doors asked, blinking and gazing around the circle of shapeshifters.
“We were knocked out,” Ragged Edge replied, his voice thick and gravelly. A raven let out a squawk in a nearby tree and took flight. The rest of the ravens that had swarmed them during the ritual had already moved on. The night was still and quiet.
“We need to move,” Warden said, getting unsteadily to her feet. She looked at her watch and gave her shoulders a shimmy. “We’ve only been out for a few minutes, I think. Anything could have been disrupted by what we did. Unwelcome demons could be coming this way.”
“Absolutely,” Ragged Edge said. He picked up his staff, which was lying beside him, and used it to heave his bulky frame onto his feet. He straightened his long, leather coat and brushed dirt and grass off his hands as his pack mates got themselves up and straightened out. Warden set off away from the fire, towards a gate in the wrought iron fence that surrounded the little park. The gate gave a squeak as Warden wrenched it open and the pack filed out after her. Beyond the tree line the landscape changed to clear crystal quartz that glinted in the starlight and the slip of a crescent moon shining overhead. Ragged Edge gazed up at it in wonder. It wasn’t due to be a solid crescent like this for two more days. He had managed to accomplish something he never would have dreamed possible. He had moved heaven and earth.
The Watch made their way quickly across the quartz field, heading north towards where St. Catherine’s ought to have been. After a few minutes, the shapes of old Tudor buildings rose up in the darkness and the quartz gave way to cobblestones. Their predecessors had shaped this part of Hepethia to resemble the human world. The cobbled roads were narrow, with small buildings leaning over them, like something from a postcard or period movie. Behind the dark windows were the inhabitants of this part of Hepethia: constructs clicking away to their clockwork rhythm, and minor, harmless demons of darkness, secrets and history. Ragged Edge was used to the feeling of being watched in Hepethia. Everything that lived there knew The Watch and respected their authority. On their territory, at least.
The shifters were practically jogging by the time they reached the northern edge of their territory. The river that weaved through the city marked their eastern border and where it twisted to the west marked their northern one. The river in Hepethia was dark and stank of pollution; a sad reflection of its human world counterpart. The stench met Ragged Edge’s nose as they neared it and slowed to a walk.
Prior to the ritual, no shifter would have known that anything was amiss in the human world from the view. St. Catherine’s looked the same as it usually did. No shifter pack claimed the area, so it was a mess. The buildings were falling apart and the area was teeming with malevolent and uncontrolled demons and constructs. Rather than remaining tucked away behind closed doors, they usually swarmed the streets, vandalising the buildings and street lamps, and causing chaos. It had been eerily quiet at the border, however, and it remained so now.
“Do we cross the border?” Doors asked. Ragged Edge glanced first at his young pack mate, then at his Alpha. Warden gazed into St. Catherine’s, a frown etched on her youthful face. She was, like all shifters, older than she appeared. She had experience and a great deal of wisdom. She often wore a serious expression and a troubled brow. But compared to Ragged Edge’s appearance of advanced years, she was very young indeed. But she was his Alpha and he would follow her commands until that was no longer the case.
“We have to find the Bone Anchor.” Warden took a step and crossed the boundary of their territory into the unclaimed wilds of St. Catherine’s. Ragged Edge followed her and the rest of the pack fell into step behind him. They walked quickly, Ragged Edge constantly on guard. He gripped his staff loosely, not using it as a walking stick, but holding it ready for combat.
As The Watch moved onto the tarmac road that stretched ahead into the unclaimed territory, a scuttling sound surrounded them, emanating from behind the crumbling walls and smashed windows of the buildings on either side of the road. Ragged Edge glanced one way and then the other, watching the shadows twitching around them. Little cackling voices chattered excitedly and Ragged Edge picked up the pace, walking with purpose towards their destination. Warden broke into a jog and the rest of the pack kept pace with her. Ragged Edge scowled but broke into a laboured run as well. The excited demons that scrambled about just out of sight got louder, not making any effort now to conceal their presence. He saw movement in the shadows and felt the hairs on his neck stand on end.
“Trouble,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“I know,” Warden replied. She came to a halt and drew her sword. The pack formed a circle, their backs to one another, facing the darkness around them. A light in a nearby building flickered, casting the only light on the narrow street. The cackling grew louder. Mjolnir drew his large war hammer from his back. Doors, Black Rat and Mercury all began to shift form. None of them favoured weapons, preferring to use their teeth and claws to fight. Their bodies trembled and erupted with fur. Rather than dropping to the floor in wolf form, however, they each grew about a foot taller, sprouted fierce snouts with large teeth and long, muscular arms coated in fur and tipped with sharp talons. The Agrius was the half-bear, half-man form their kind was gifted with by Artemis. They made for a formidable sight, standing there among their pack mates. Ragged Edge turned his attention back to the approaching rabble.
Tiny black shapes spilled out of the smashed windows around them and scrambled over one another in their rush to get to the shifters. They were nasty little demons of chaos and darkness. They had sharp little claws and red eyes and they laughed and babbled excitedly as they rushed at the shifters from all sides.
Ragged Edge readied his staff and the moment one of the creatures was within reach he swatted it with his weapon, sending it flying over the heads of its fellows with a high-pitched scream. Beside him, Mjolnir took a step out of the circle to meet two oncoming demons and swept them away with his hammer. Black Rat stomped on one of them with one huge, clawed foot. It squelched, twitched and then went still. The other Agrius-form members of The Watch went to town on the demons. Doors scooped one up and ripped it in half. Mercury bounded forwards and bit into another demon and shook his head, sending its broken limbs flying out in all directions.
Meanwhile, Warden was waist-high in the things, stabbing and swiping at them with her sword. Her face was pinched but she was perfectly in control. Ragged Edge continued splatting the demons and sending them tumbling backwards. They kept coming and he wasn’t entirely certain that his pack wouldn’t be overwhelmed. But they kept plugging away at the attackers and eventually their numbers began to thin. With a coordinated ripple of shrieks, the demons turned back and fled into the buildings they had come from.
Ragged Edge kept his staff readied as the demons scurried away. He drew short breaths and fought against the slight ache in his chest. Beside him, Warden kept a watchful eye on the retreating creatures as well and it was only when the street was completely empty that she lowered her sword.
>
“Come on. Let’s get on with it.” She walked away and Ragged Edge, and his pack mates, followed her. They hurried through Hepethia; Ragged Edge kept a watchful eye out for any further threats. It felt too quiet. They rounded a corner and passed a car-like construct crouched in the middle of the road. Its headlights, like eyes, sleepily watched the passing pack, and a low growl rumbled in its engine. They rushed past it as quietly as possible and pressed on towards the heart of St. Catherine’s.
The buildings thinned out, interspersed with open areas of rubble where whole buildings had come down. The shifters picked their way carefully over the debris and Ragged Edge used his staff to help keep his footing. They cleared the last of the fallen buildings and Ragged Edge’s foot made contact with scorched ground. It was still dark; only the thin crescent moon lit their path. He squinted to make out what lay ahead. There were huge streaks of blackened earth and concrete on the ground that seemed to radiate out from a central point. The Watch moved forwards, carefully, towards the epicentre of what had to have been an explosion.
Ragged Edge stooped and touched the scorch marks. The ground was cool to the touch.
“This wasn’t too recent,” he said.
“No, I suspected as much,” Warden said absently, her focus on what lay ahead. There had once been walls here, around a great pillar of stone. Now there was just empty space and a gaping wound in the world. Ragged Edge heaved a sigh as he looked through the rip in the veil. It was immense. He could see the human world through it and if he tilted his head slightly he could see the fires and deep shadows of the demon realms and the glinting stars of the fae realm. All of the realms existed here in this place at once.
“Where’s the Bone Anchor?” Doors asked, not caring to keep his voice low.
“Shh,” Warden said.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “But really, where is it?”
“Gone,” Ragged Edge said, a grunt to his voice. “Shattered.”
“How do we fix it?”
“We don’t. No one’s ever fixed a Bone Anchor before.”
“But, the worlds,” Doors said, staring across the veil.
“We can repair the veil, like we did at the start of this madness, but the Bone Anchor is gone forever.”
“What will that mean for the city?” Black Rat asked.
“I don’t know,” Ragged Edge replied.
“There are still others, lots of them,” Warden said as she stooped to pick up a large, iron bar from the ground. “Caerton will hold as long as the other Bone Anchors are intact.”
“And if whoever destroyed this one gets to work on any others?” Doors asked.
Ragged Edge sighed and shook his head. “Then we’re all screwed.”
Chapter Two
“I’ve already explained.” Felix heaved a sigh and ran his hands through his straggly hair, his elbows dug hard into the table. “She was missing for two days and I was looking for her.”
“But you didn’t think to check her house?”
“I did! I was trying to get there and couldn’t. All of St. Catherine’s was impossible to reach. You must be aware of that! You have to know. I can’t be the only one with an experience like this. You lot closed Red Bridge, for goodness sake. You know there were issues.”
“The bridge was structurally unsound,” the police officer said calmly, shuffling the papers in front of her. She had heavy circles under her eyes and her uniform was rumpled. If Felix had to guess, he’d say she’d been working the shift from hell and he wasn’t making it any easier for her. There were no windows in the interview room, just that ominous mirror along one wall. He tried not to look at it. He was painfully aware of the gun holstered on his side that no one was able to see but him. His dark passenger had gone quiet as soon as the police started asking questions. He was getting no more help from it now. He stared at his hands. There was dried blood in some of the lines, despite the police taking scrapings from under his nails and him washing them three times. His cheeks ached and his eyes prickled.
“I don’t think there’s anything more to say,” he said. “I’ve told you the truth. You obviously don’t believe me. But there’s no evidence that I hurt my sister, because I didn’t. You’ll find someone else’s prints all over the knife. Probably Peter’s.” A tear rolled down his cheek and he swatted it away. The officer looked at him carefully, chewing the inside of her cheek. He looked down at his hands on the table and let the next tear fall. His sister was gone, after everything he had been through, and every part of him ached.
There was a knock at the door, breaking the tense silence. It opened and another officer stuck his head into the room. “A word, Detective Harper?”
The woman on the other side of the table stood up and left the room without a word to Felix. He lifted his head and wiped his face on his sleeves. It had to be morning by now. He had been at the station for hours and he longed to crawl into his bed. The door opened again and he looked over as the interviewing officer returned. She looked relieved and even offered him a smile.
“You can go now, Mr Jones. I am so sorry for your loss and do appreciate your cooperation.”
He wasted no time getting to his feet. “Did you find Peter?”
“Not yet. We’ll keep you updated. The lab has confirmed that your prints weren’t on the knife. I’m satisfied, for now, that you weren’t responsible for Julie’s death.”
Felix allowed his shoulders to relax, only just realising how tense they had been. The linoleum was cold against his feet as he crossed the room, even through his black socks. As he passed the officer, she caught hold of his arm and he stopped to look down at her. “Leave this matter to us, okay? We’ll handle it from here.”
“Of course,” he said, nodding. He held back a small smile. A few hours in a room with him and she had accurately assessed his state of mind. He had to respect that. She released his arm and he swept away down the brightly lit corridor. He pushed open the door at the end and stepped into the reception area. He glanced around and Emma leaped to her feet. She rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back and breathed in the strawberry scent of her shampoo.
“I knew they couldn’t hold you for long,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.
“Thanks for coming to meet me.”
She pulled out of his arms and looked up into his face. Her eyes were wet with un-shed tears. He cupped her face with his coarse hand and kissed her forehead.
“Felix,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry about Julie.”
“Thanks.” A lump had formed in his throat.
Someone nearby cleared their throat and Felix turned to see the officer who had interrupted the interview standing at the reception desk with Felix’s things. He approached the desk and signed where the officer indicated. He scooped up his jacket and boots and sat down to put his boots back on. Emma stood next to him, quietly crying. He hated the sound of her broken breathing and occasional sniffing, and didn’t want to look at her in case he broke down. He did up the laces of his boots, which was most unlike him, just to stay hunched over a few seconds longer. But finally, he had to get to his feet and face Emma. Her eyes were red and her lips puffy. He grabbed her and pulled her against his chest. She gripped him tightly and shook slightly in his arms. He squeezed her and kissed the top of her head.
“Come on, soldier. Knock it off. Let’s get out of here.” He patted her back and she took a big sniff before shaking her head and trying to put a brave smile onto her face. He took her hand and they stepped out of the police station into the cool, grey morning. Cars crawled past, the fine drizzle glimmering in their headlights.
“I went to St. Catherine’s last night, after the earthquake.” Emma gripped his hand tightly as she spoke. “It’s all back and I remember everything. It’s like it never went anywhere.”
“Is there anything in the news about it?”
“Nothing.” They stood there, staring at the traffic and slowly getting wet. “Come to my plac
e.” She tugged his arm and set off at a brisk walk. Relief swelled up inside his chest like a wave. He didn’t want to go back to his grotty flat and be alone.
“Do you have to work?”
“Not today.”
They hurried past people with umbrellas as the shops began to open their doors. Buses and vans sloshed by, splashing standing water up onto the pavement. Felix was glad of his boots. Emma led the way, weaving through the bustling streets. He was glad they weren’t catching a bus. The last thing he needed was to sit on a crowded and smelly bus with no distractions from his grief. It was better to feel the rain on his skin and have to navigate the obstacles of the city in Emma’s wake. They crossed the central plaza where there was a huge fountain and a tall war memorial in front of the grand, columned city hall.
Felix’s left knee throbbed and he had to slow down. Emma glanced at him and slowed to match his pace.
“Nearly there,” she said, squeezing his hand.
They passed out of the city centre and into Burnside. Shops gave way to office buildings. Tall, glass spires jutted up from the pavement, reminding Felix of the strange crystals he had seen in that other world. Except these buildings stood straight and tall, seeming to touch the heavy clouds. The tallest building in Caerton was Free River Tower. It loomed over all of the others, reflecting the dull sky on its thousands of windows. The couple passed through its shadow and Emma led Felix up a side street and around a corner into another busy street. She fished in her pocket and drew out a key ring. They came to a halt in front of a black door in a tall, narrow building that was painted light blue. Felix looked along the street and saw that the buildings alternated in white and coloured walls. It looked like something from a seaside town and caused a smile to tug at the corner of his mouth.
Emma unlocked the door and led Felix inside. The door led into a narrow hallway with an empty coatrack mounted on the wall. He shook off his jacket, took Emma's long coat from her and hung them both up. His knee gave a painful twinge and he winced. He flexed it and it clicked loudly. Emma glanced down at it and gave him a warm smile.
Forgotten Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 3) Page 49
