by H B Lyne
'Wait,' he whispered back.
The snakes slithered around, writhing over each other and moving towards the centre of the circle. They merged right next to Wind Talker and began to pile on top of one another, building up into a growing mound. Wind Talker stepped back into the circle next to Stalker and they exchanged anxious glances. The snakes twisted around to form a six-foot tall pillar of green and brown rippling motion. The pillar began to take on a more humanoid form, with limbs and a head emerging.
'Is that fae or a demon?' Stalker whispered, leaning close to Wind Talker.
'Fae,' he replied softly. 'All nature spirits are fae. We greet and thank you for attending us, Whispering Iasis.'
'What healing do you require?' the creature asked, its voice a low hiss. 'None of you is seriously injured.'
'My wife,' Eyes spoke, his voice strong. 'She suffers with the madness that humans are afflicted with when they see our true form. She is broken. I need her whole, I need her happy and healthy. Please, can you help?'
'The madness of which you speak is the price and protection granted by Artemis. It cannot easily be undone.' The envoy of Asclepius writhed and shifted its form as it spoke.
'I must have her back as she was, please. The price is too high and inflicted upon the wrong person in this case. She has done nothing wrong.' Eyes' voice trembled and Stalker looked at him, wishing she could take away his pain.
'It is not her paying the price, it is you,' the fae rattled.
Eyes opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out.
'Can we pay another price?' Stalker asked quickly. The fae turned towards her, a face forming out of the writhing snakes. She tried not to flinch. 'If this is the price for allowing our nature to be revealed, can we make an exchange? We'll do something for you if you can remove the madness from her.'
Whispering Iasis seemed to consider this for a moment, it turned slowly on the spot, looking at each of them.
'Very well,' it said at last. A tail flicked out of the pillar and lashed out towards Wind Talker, catching him in the chest with alarming force. He staggered backwards and clutched his chest, a cry sticking in his throat. He tugged his t-shirt off over his head to examine himself. There was a bright red sting on his chest and it was spreading rapidly, dark lines appearing as the poison filled his veins and discoloured his blood.
'No!' Stalker cried out and everyone ran forward to support Wind Talker as he struggled to stand.
'There is a house,' the fae hissed. Stalker glared at it, her arm around Wind Talker. 'The map will show you the way. Heal the house and I will heal your Alpha's wife.'
Stalker looked back at Wind Talker's chest. Sure enough, the dark lines on his skin had formed a street map and at his heart was a shimmering red mark indicating the location of the house. Wind Talker touched his skin and took a steadying breath.
'I'm okay,' he said, standing up and moving out from the pack clustering around him. 'Claws, can you memorise this before it fades?'
Claws nodded and took a good look at the marks.
'Very well,' Eyes said, staring at the fae. 'We will do this. Thank you.'
The fae rattled and then sank into the ground, breaking apart into a hundred snakes again, who quickly slithered away and buried themselves back into the ground.
'How on earth do we heal a house?' Stalker asked.
'Let's go and find out,' Eyes replied, setting off across the veil without hesitation.
The house they had been instructed to heal was to the north of Grove Street, about halfway to the telecoms tower in a leafy little area tucked in between faceless rows of terraces and a more commercial area. The streets were broader and lined with trees, the semi-detached houses had front gardens and driveways. The house they had been led to stood on a corner and looked perfectly normal. The pack sat in Eyes' car, idling across the street, peering at the house. Stalker felt nothing unusual from the veil, but more subtle effects would only be felt up close.
'It'll be dark soon,' Stalker said quietly. 'We should cross the veil and check it out in Hepethia.'
She willed her body across the veil and her feet dropped to the ground as the car disappeared from around her. She stumbled but quickly corrected herself. The others shimmered into Hepethia one by one and Stalker looked around at them, a smile tugging at her lips. Hiding in Eyes' car, behind tinted windows, was an excellent way to cross the veil unseen.
She looked around them and saw that they were in a relatively untouched area of Hepethia, its raw crystalline beauty winked at them in the late afternoon sunlight. A few yards away, right where the house they had been sent to heal had stood in the human world, was an almost identical house, sat amongst the quartz rocks. The house was covered in small birds, all along the rooftop, the garage and the swing set in the garden. They preened and bobbed their heads and looked perfectly mundane, except for their number. 'What the hell?' Stalker murmured.
'Witches?' Eyes whispered, panic in his voice.
'I don't think so,' Weaver said, heading slowly towards the front door. The birds watched them advancing, but didn't do anything. Weaver reached the door first and carefully opened it just wide enough to peer inside. She glanced back and gave a nod and then pushed the door wide open. Stalker slipped inside first, followed by Wind Talker and Eyes. Weaver and Claws remained at the door to keep watch.
'Wind Talker,' Stalker whispered. 'What do you see on the other side?'
He had his talisman in contact with his skin under his shirt and was able to see both sides of the veil at once. They moved silently down the wide hallway, past an open door into the living room.
'A little girl, watching television,' he replied softly.
They moved towards the kitchen at the back of the house, everything looked fairly mundane, but Stalker sensed the presence of something lurking out of sight. She moved to the stairs and crept up them cautiously, the others just behind her. On the narrow landing there were several doors, but only one stood closed, it had purple flowers on it. Stalker moved directly to it, there was a scratching sound from inside and she opened the door slowly.
The room was flooded with the red light of sunset and it poured out onto the landing. There was a caw and the fluttering of wings and Stalker stepped into the room quickly. Perched on the end of a white bed with a pink canopy was a big black bird, bobbing its head and ruffling its feathers. Paper fluttered all over the walls, reminding Stalker vividly of the Blue Moon Betting Shop. These sheets, however, were covered in brightly coloured sketches. Rows and rows of a child's drawings of birds.
There was a wardrobe in the corner and the doors were banging gently, like something was shuffling about inside. Stalker drew one of her dha and moved silently to the wardrobe. She flung open the door and saw a black shape twirling around, but it seemed to not be aware of the intrusion, it just kept spinning, like a small child turning in clumsy circles and it muttered indistinguishable words. 'It's a minor fear demon,' Wind Talker whispered. He reached past Stalker and closed the wardrobe door.
'What does this room look like on the other side?' Stalker asked.
'Almost identical, not quite as many drawings, but a lot of them. No black bird. The mother was up here but has just gone downstairs.'
They left the room and crept back downstairs to the kitchen, which was now filled with the smells of cooking and little motes of life bobbed around the room. Sitting on one of the worktops was a small, gnarled demon of worry, chewing its nails and glancing around with big eyes. It saw them and looked momentarily alarmed, recoiling from them, but it seemed to decide they were not worth worrying about and its big eyes dropped to the floor.
In the centre of the kitchen floor was a large, heavy-looking rug and Stalker looked at it with suspicion. It was an odd sight in a kitchen and she glanced at Wind Talker with raised eyebrows. 'There's a covered trap door on both sides,' he said without her needing to ask.
Eyes stooped down and tossed the rug aside, revealing a big wooden door set into the floor.<
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'We have to open it, don't we?' Stalker said. Eyes grasped the round, metal handle firmly, glancing up at Stalker and Wind Talker briefly before tugging on it. The door opened with a loud creak and Stalker could see how heavy it was from the strain on Eyes' face. The door fell from his grasp as soon as it reached the tipping point and slammed into the tiled floor with a deafening thunk that shook the floor. There was a staircase leading down into a pitch black basement and with only the briefest hesitation, Eyes set off down it. 'Wait,' Stalker called out quietly but he went on. She glanced at Wind Talker, wearing the worry she felt on her face. He gave her a resigned shrug and set off down the steps into the darkness.
Stalker followed and willed her eyes to adjust to the darkness; she drew upon the power of her darkness allies and they allowed her just enough light to see where she was placing her feet and make out Wind Talker just ahead of her. He came to an abrupt halt and she drew level with him. Eyes had reached the bottom of the stairs and in front of them was a door. It was like a bank vault door, but black; it had a huge wheel on the front of it and thick black chains strung across it.
A strange sensation prickled at Stalker's senses as she looked at the door, something about the veil was unsettling her. It wasn't a tear, like the ones she had encountered before, it was more like the absence of veil at Crescent Park. She didn't like it.
'It's not quite like this on the other side,' Wind Talker whispered, his face was ashen, Stalker could just make out in the dark. 'It's a plain wooden door with a padlock. No one would think anything of it if they came across it.'
Stalker watched Eyes as he placed a hand on the door. He let out a small guttural noise of strain and then dropped his hand heavily to his side.
'Well, we're not getting through it on this side of the veil any time soon, I can't change it,' Eyes said, his voice laced with frustration. Stalker turned and moved quickly back up the steps into the kitchen. The last rays of sunlight were casting their eerie red glow into the room. They covered the trap door and went back to the others at the front of the house.
'This place is very wrong. How is it like this?' Stalker asked. 'How are the humans shaping it like that?'
'What?' Weaver asked sharply.
'There were drawings on the wall in the little girl's room and when the mother was cooking we could see it changing the kitchen.' Stalker explained.
'I've never heard of that before,' Weaver said, a deep frown etched on her brow.
'There was something wrong with the veil,' Stalker said slowly. 'Like a hole or a doorway or something. Could it be causing some sort of bleed-through?'
Wind Talker and Weaver glanced at each other.
'Maybe,' Wind Talker said slowly. They moved around to the back of the house to find a secluded spot, and Wind Talker checked the other side of the veil to see that the coast was clear. They crossed over and dashed quietly to the car. 'The mother was ill,' Wind Talker said as they drove home. 'She was pale and thin.'
'That worry demon must have belonged to her,' Stalker said. 'The one in the kitchen. The stress is making her ill.'
'It's something to do with the girl,' Eyes said, a grim look in his eyes. His hands gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, turning his knuckles white. 'She may be supernatural or have some sort of insight. Perhaps there is something buried in that basement and the mother knows and is keeping it from the girl.'
'We don't know enough yet. We can't even think about getting through that door until we've done some more scouting and research,' Stalker said. 'I know you want to get this done quickly and get Chloe healed, but we have to do it right.'
Eyes nodded but said nothing and she felt his resentment pouring off him like radiation. She didn't want to be the cause of his frustration, but she had to stick to her guns on this. They couldn't put theirs and this family's lives at risk by barging in and releasing goodness knows what terror into the world. That door was well-secured for a reason.
Eyes dropped them off at Grove Street and drove away to be with his family. Stalker looked up at the dark sky, basking in the lack of light. She felt the call of the night drawing her out to hunt like an impatient child tugging at her hand. 'I'm going out patrolling,' she called to Weaver, who stopped inside the door and looked back at her with a curious expression.
'Okay, that's probably a good idea. Want company?'
'No thanks, but do you want to take a turn after you've had some sleep? We should keep patrolling regularly from now on, just in case.'
'Of course. Stay safe,' Weaver said with a nod and Stalker smiled in reply before turning and setting off at a jog towards Crossway.
She took a different route every time she went out now, covering as much of the territory as she could, getting to know all of its back alleys, green spaces and dead ends. There were precious few dead ends to her now, even in her flightless, human form. She could scale almost any wall, with her developing parkour skills, but she noted each potential trap for enemies and good escape routes for herself and her pack mates.
As she vaulted a fence and dropped fifteen feet from a bridge onto the road below, Stalker felt Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude at her heels and grinned as the demon rushed past her and drew her into the chase. She shifted into her fox form and sprinted after the rapidly moving shadow, leaping from cover to cover, clinging to the darkness. It was exhilarating and made her feel more alive than anything else in her life. She was free from all doubt or worry, free from conscious thought, totally enraptured by the thrill of the chase. It was addictive, she was spending more and more of her nights like this and getting less and less sleep, but she was barely aware of it. The compulsion was blinding and she was its slave.
Chapter Ten
Fights-Eyes-Open
'Mum,' Eyes called out gently at the bedroom door. There was movement inside but no reply came. 'I have to go to work. Rebecca's making breakfast. Do you want to come down for something to eat?'
'In a minute,' she replied, her voice muffled through the door.
'Okay. I'll see you later.' He placed a hand on the door and paused for a moment, listening to her moving around. He reluctantly moved away and went down to the dining room where Amy was slowly eating cereal. Chloe's sister, Rebecca, was buttering some toast and passed him a plate with a frosty glare. 'Thank you,' he said as politely as he could manage.
'I'm taking Amy to see her mum later,' Rebecca said as she returned her attention to the breakfast.
'Thank you.'
'It is ridiculous that you are working already. Can't they give you compassionate leave?' She flashed those cold eyes at him again. She had been like this ever since she arrived. Clearly she blamed him for what had happened and thought he wasn't doing enough. She had no idea and Eyes fought the frustration bubbling up inside and slapped on a fake smile in order to keep things civilised.
'They gave me two days and will give me more for the funeral, but this morning is a really important meeting. They can't delay a meeting with all of the city's most important politicians, businessmen and city planners just for little old me.'
'Why can't someone else go in your place?' she snapped.
'Because no one knows the job like I do, Rebecca.' Eyes sighed. He quickly finished his toast and moved over to Amy. He kissed the top of her head, she didn't react. 'I'll see you later, munchkin. I love you.' His hand lingered on her hair, he could feel her tense up at his touch and he reluctantly pulled away.
He left without another word and drove into the city centre on autopilot. He would have given anything not to be going into Free River Tower, but Theodore had insisted that his presence was required and when Theodore beckoned there was really no way of saying no.
He arrived and made his way to the top floor. The building was buzzing with activity. He got out of the lift on the brightly lit top floor, opposite the double doors into Theodore's office, they were closed and his assistant appeared at his side with a cup of coffee and an eager smile.
'Can I take your coat?' the
young man asked and Eyes passed it to him with one hand while taking the coffee with the other. 'Would you like to wait down here?' The assistant indicated a seating area just down the hall, where his own desk was located, and Eyes followed him. There were a few other people waiting, some of whom Eyes recognised from his other meetings over the last few months.
'Is Theodore going to be long?' Eyes asked. The assistant checked his watch.
'I think he's hoping to start in a few minutes, he was taking a call.'
The phone on his desk rang and the assistant answered it swiftly. 'Yes, Mr Harris?'
Eyes glanced at him and moved to take a seat, keeping one ear on the conversation, though he couldn't hear Theodore's side. 'Yes he has. Of course.' The assistant replaced the phone in its cradle with a click. 'Mr Davison?' Eyes stopped in his tracks and turned back to face him. 'Mr Harris would like to see you now.'
He put his coffee down untouched and followed the assistant back to Theodore's office. He could get used to having someone scurrying about taking his coat, bringing him coffee and opening doors for him. Theodore had a good thing going on here and Eyes wondered if it would ever be possible for him to achieve all of this for himself.
'Martin,' Theodore greeted him warmly at the door and opened his arms wide. Eyes moved awkwardly into his embrace and felt Theodore's hands pat him firmly on the back.
'Theodore,' he said stiffly, pulling out of the embrace as soon as was polite.
'How are you doing?' Theodore asked, his voice filled with apparent compassion. The assistant closed the door behind him and Eyes was able to relax a little.
'Not great, obviously.'
'Is your wife going to be all right?'
'Yes, she'll be fine, thank you. Thank you for the flowers.'
'Not at all.' Theodore waved a hand dismissively and indicated for Eyes to take a seat.
'And for the help on Saturday, at the house. Thank you.' Eyes held eye contact and let the nod of his head impart the depth of his gratitude.
