by H B Lyne
'It's a wind fae,' Wind Talker answered. Sand whipped up from the ground in a rapidly shifting spiral and it moved swiftly up the beach towards them.
'What are you doing here?' a soft breath reached out to them from the column of sand.
'Please,' Claws said, holding his hands up. 'Can you tell us what happened here?'
'You know,' the fae hissed.
'We burned a body and now it's gone. Who took it?' Wind Talker asked, his voice a little more soft than Stalker had heard it in a while.
'No idea,' the fae replied. The wind dropped slightly and then whipped up again. 'Maybe it was him.'
'Who?' Stalker urged.
'The shifter who visits here every day at moonrise.'
Stalker and Weaver looked at each other, Weaver's eyes were narrowed.
'Was he here when we burned the body?' Claws asked.
'No,' the fae replied, spinning frantically. 'But the others were.'
'Who?' Stalker snapped, her patience waning.
'Your people.' The voice on the wind sighed and then disappeared.
'My people or our people?' Stalker cried, but the fae was gone. She kicked the sand and it sprayed up into the blustery air.
'It's only a couple of hours until moonrise. We could hide the van and keep watch.' Weaver suggested. Stalker looked around the desolate beach and then back at Weaver.
'Okay,' she said sulkily.
'Yes, excellent plan,' Wind Talker huffed, straightening his shirt. They returned to the van and Wind Talker drove it half a mile up the road away from the city and towards Father Ash's house. He pulled off the main road up a track that led into the woods and parked under the cover of the trees, out of sight of the road. Stalker led them away from the van, back towards the beach through the woods. She walked quickly, the others trailing along behind her. Dry twigs and leaves crunched under her boots and she was faintly aware of the living creatures in the woods scurrying away from the four intruders.
The trees were starting to show signs of life again, with small buds appearing and as she walked, Stalker saw snowdrops by the roadside. She wondered who would be moving into the Watchtower now that spring was upon them.
As she drew level with the beach, Stalker moved deeper under the cover of the trees, away from the road. They could see some of the beach from here, and had a good view of the road in both directions. She leaned heavily against a tree and closed her eyes, feeling the warm sun on her face through the tree branches above. She felt movement around her as the others caught up to her, the heavy footfalls of Wind Talker and Claws moved past her and came to a halt a few yards away, but Weaver's almost silent footsteps stopped beside her.
'Are you all right?' Weaver asked softly. Stalker opened her eyes and looked at her as she shrugged.
'Not really. You?'
'I'm okay. I'm curious about something.' Stalker cocked an eyebrow at her and waited for her to elaborate. 'You were gone all night and came back this morning smelling of, you know.' Weaver tried to hide a smile. Stalker allowed a small smile to grace her lips.
'Yes,' she whispered.
'But it wasn't First Strike, was it?'
Stalker's smile dropped. She hadn't even thought of him. She swallowed hard and shook her head.
'No, it wasn't. I'm not seeing him anymore.'
'Stalker.' Weaver hesitated. 'Be careful, I can tell he's human.'
Stalker's breath caught in her throat and she let out a guttural noise.
'I will, it's fine. Don't worry.' She couldn't tell Weaver. She had come this far without mentioning Rhys to anyone but Claws. She knew what Weaver and Wind Talker would make of the secrets and lies and demon shrouds.
She turned her attention to the road and beach, waiting for the stranger to appear. It could be the Spiral Hand that they needed to uncover. Stalker couldn't think of a reason for any of Caerton's shifters to come out here every day at moonrise.
Weaver checked her watch every few minutes and threw furtive glances around the quiet woods. Stalker cast her gaze around, checking all directions for movement. As moonrise approached, Stalker felt her pulse begin to quicken and she paced the soft ground. A caw above her in the trees caught her attention, and she looked up to see a big raven sitting on a branch, bobbing its head. She stopped and looked at it. Another one joined it. 'Something's happening,' she whispered. The others looked at her, Claws stood up from his squatting position at the base of a tree and looked up at the birds.
Stalker moved cautiously to the tree line, so as to get a better view of the beach. In the far distance she saw someone walking a dog, throwing a stick into the sea for it to chase. The tide had crept up the beach and there was now only about half as much depth to it as when they had arrived, but it was still wide open. There was no sign of anyone else approaching.
Weaver shifted just a part of her face, thanks to her pendant, and sniffed around with her sensitive cat-nose and Stalker looked imploringly at Claws. He rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat before leaping into the air and shifting mid-jump into a scruffy-looking barn owl. He swept off into the trees and she watched him soar overhead to scout from the sky. The ravens startled and took flight too, gliding away towards the cliffs.
Stalker's pulse pounded in her temples as she waited anxiously, trying to ignore Wind Talker checking his watch as he leaned against a tree. She moved right to the edge of the road and stared out onto the beach. Where was he? Had he sensed them? Her pulse was really racing now and she rubbed her temples, trying to ease the tension. Thud, thud, thud, thud. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. But it was no good, the pounding was relentless.
'What is that?' Wind Talker whispered behind her. She looked his way and saw that he was alert and looking about anxiously. Thud, thud, thud, thud. It wasn't her pulse and he could hear it too this time.
Stalker looked back toward the beach and saw three ravens circling. The dog walker was fading into the distance. She glanced both ways to check for cars, and seeing none she ran across the road, breaking cover completely. 'Stalker!' Wind Talker hissed from behind her. She ignored him and ran down the bank onto the beach.
The footsteps were heavier now, getting ever closer. Even without the chaos of a pack brawl it was maddening. She spun in circles, searching for the source. Wind Talker and Weaver were running down the bank towards her and a fourth raven had added to the circling overhead.
'What is it? Is this what you heard before?' Weaver called out over the thundering noise.
Claws swooped down from the sky and landed on his human feet at a run in between Weaver and Stalker, looking from one to the other.
'What is that?'
Wind Talker fumbled with something around his neck and Stalker watched him as he grabbed his talisman in his fist and his eyes slipped out of focus.
'Nothing, there's nothing here on the other side,' he called.
Stalker felt the veil rippling just a few feet from her, between her and the sea. She raised a hand and pointed.
'Right there, Wind Talker!'
'There is no one there, I swear!' he yelled back.
Stalker watched the spot, unable to move or speak. The veil opened and she caught a glimpse into another world, it was almost pitch black, in contrast to the early afternoon sunshine here, it certainly wasn't Hepethia. A figure moved in the darkness, marching towards the gap. She was vaguely aware of the others close behind her and she heard Weaver gasp.
'The Underworld.'
'Who's there?' Claws called out.
The shadowy figure crossed the veil and marched towards them. He was a soldier in battered, leather armour, red hand prints covered his eyes and most of his face. He was faint, almost translucent, but growing more and more solid with every step he took. He stopped right in front of Stalker, fully solidified. He raised a hand and struck her hard across the face. Stalker stumbled and reflexively reached for her bruised cheek. The pain coursed through her face and she felt supportive hands on her from her pack mates, helping to stead
y her.
'What the hell was that?' Claws shouted. Stalker glanced at him and saw the rage in his face.
'Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow,' the ghost said in a voice that echoed off the bare sand. 'You have forgotten your purpose.'
'W-what?' Stalker stammered, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
'You swore a vow to Odin's Warriors because you felt the call of battle. I am Hands-and-Face, you are my descendent, and a grave disappointment.'
'I'm sorry,' Stalker said, unsure what else she could say to that.
'You're distracted and undisciplined. You have failed to take advantage of all of the gifts offered to you by Artemis and Odin. You let your enemies grow in strength and evade you, and you have forgotten where you come from.'
'I don't know where I come from!' she cried, frustrated tears stinging her eyes.
'You have forgotten!' Hands-and-Face roared. With that, the ghost turned and strode back across the veil into the Underworld, leaving Stalker open-mouthed and nursing her aching cheek.
Stalker turned on her heel and marched back to the van without looking at anyone. She heard them scurrying behind her, whispering frantically, but she tuned it out. Her ears seemed to still be ringing with the marching footsteps of the invisible, undead army. She climbed into the back of the van with Claws, while Weaver sat up front with Wind Talker, and Stalker got the distinct impression that they were trying to give her space, which she supposed she ought to appreciate, but mainly it just made her more angry.
She stared at the floor and wrung her hands, her thoughts racing. Her cheek had stopped throbbing, but the emotional pain of the encounter was still tangible. Claws sat in silence opposite her, radiating his calming aura. If it was working and this was how she felt under its effect, it didn't bear thinking about what she would feel like without him there.
The words of Hands-and-Face stung so much because she knew he was right. She had neglected to investigate why she was different, or where she had come from. Shadow's Step had dangled the thread in front of her right from the start. He had asked her about her biological parents and told her that at least one of them would have been a shifter, but she wasn't ready to face her past when her present was so confusing.
Her new world had exploded so soon and so spectacularly, that she had barely had a moment to slow down and consider her past. But she couldn't hide behind excuses, the winter had been quiet after the defeat of the Plague Doctor. She'd had a chance to dig into her origins, but had chosen not to, on some level.
The van pulled up on Grove Street and Stalker climbed out of the back without looking at any of the others. She set off at a jog towards the dojo, she had classes to teach, though how she was going to manage, she didn't know.
Mercifully, Fury was absent and although it was challenging for her to keep her cool, nothing eventful happened during her classes. As she left the dojo at six o'clock, Stalker called Eyes. He answered after a few rings and she could hear shouting in the background.
'Hello?' he snapped, short of breath.
'Hi,' Stalker replied. 'Everything okay?'
'Not really. What can I do for you?'
'Have you spoken to any of the others today?'
'Not since Weaver called this morning. Why?'
'Typical, I'm sorry no one updated you. We went back to the beach and found that someone had taken Hidden Voice's remains.'
'What?!'
'I know. I tried to track it but the sea and—'
'Fine, fine,' Eyes interrupted. 'That's fine.'
'A fae appeared and told us that a shifter visits that spot on the beach every day at moonrise, so we waited for them to show up but they didn't. Something else did though.' She stopped and took a deep breath.
'What? What happened?' His voice was softer, like he could sense her anxiety.
'A ghost of my ancestor crossed over from the Underworld and berated me for neglecting my ancestry and told me I was a disappointment to him.' She felt a hard lump in her throat as she stumbled over the words in a torrent.
'I see,' he said quietly. 'How do you feel about that?'
'Hurt, but it's true. I need to follow up on it. I need to be excused from pack duty while I sort some of this out.'
'I'm not the Alpha anymore,' he reminded her, a reluctant sigh in his voice. 'You need to ask Wind Talker.'
'What's going on with you? How's Chloe?' Stalker asked, ignoring his suggestion. She wanted to tell him about Fury too, but there was only so much she could burden him with.
'Angry.' There was another shout in the background and Stalker flinched as she heard something smash. 'I have to go. Take care of yourself, don't do anything rash. Okay?'
'Yes, of course. Same to you.' She hung up the phone and looked up and down the darkening street. Cars swept past and music was coming from a nearby flat. Stalker stood, almost hypnotised for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts. She had to go back to Grove Street. Her pack would be worried about her and she needed to reconnect with Weaver and Claws at least, even if she still couldn't look at Wind Talker.
She set off at a run and crossed St. Mark's quickly. She vaulted fences, ran up walls and jumped down from precarious heights with ease, her talisman protecting her from dangerous falls. It barely registered in her mind that she might be seen floating to the ground and when the thought did flicker into her consciousness she found she didn't care. When she ran like this she was free.
She burst through the door and walked briskly through to the kitchen, short of breath and glowing pink. The three of them all stared at her as she entered.
'Everything okay?' Claws asked, a slice of toast in his hand.
'Yeah. Sorry for running off earlier,' she replied, looking down at the ground.
'Totally understandable,' Weaver said, nodding sympathetically.
'Tomorrow we need to wrap up the healing house business, and return the family to their home,' Wind Talker said stiffly. 'Eyes has the keys and has been the face of this operation, so we'll need him to join us.'
'I'll tell him,' Stalker offered. She didn't think Eyes would welcome a call from Wind Talker and got the feeling Wind Talker knew that too. She typed a text message, relaying the request to Eyes. She looked up to see Claws buttering some more toast and he slid the plate along the kitchen worktop to her.
'Eat,' he ordered. She smiled and tucked in, suddenly acutely aware that she hadn't eaten all day.
'Get some rest,' Wind Talker ordered. 'All of you.' He looked pointedly at Stalker and any thoughts of disappearing out into the night were promptly squashed. Wind Talker left the room and trudged up the stairs.
'We need Eyes back,' Stalker whispered.
'He'll be back,' Weaver replied, tidying away her own dinner plate. 'He just needs room to process what happened.'
Stalker glanced at Claws. He returned her furtive look, he understood what she had meant. Whether Weaver had misunderstood, or was deliberately ignoring Stalker's meaning wasn't clear.
'What do you want to do about what happened today?' Claws asked her, keeping his voice casual. Stalker looked at him carefully, he avoided eye contact by busying himself with tidying the kitchen.
'I don't know,' she admitted, passing him her empty plate. 'I can talk to Ragged Edge about my role in Odin's Warriors. But I don't even know where to begin in finding my birth parents.'
'I can probably help you with that,' he said, glancing at her and pausing the washing up.
'Really?' A spark of hope warmed her inside.
'Of course,' he said with a smile. 'Work's been agonisingly slow since that lead of mine died. I had to let that case go.'
'That's a shame,' Stalker said softly. She couldn't feel too bad about that, her mind was still on his offer to help her. Weaver approached and placed a warm hand on her shoulder.
'We all want to help. Even Wind Talker.'
Stalker scowled and Weaver removed her hand. She gave an unapologetic shrug and left the room.
'Don't shoot me,' Claws whispered. 'But he
does. He's worried about you.'
Stalker gawked at him. He held her gaze. He wasn't going to back down, he was challenging her to accept what he had said.
'I couldn't shoot you if I tried,' she said, shaking her head and breaking the tension. 'You're the gun-slinger.'
'Let's get some sleep,' Claws said, a small smile on his lips. Stalker grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace, which he returned. 'It'll all be okay. We'll work it out,' he whispered against her hair. She was trembling slightly and tears threatened to spill. She sniffed and stayed locked in his brotherly arms.
'Thank you,' she whispered. She pulled away and wiped her eyes. They followed Weaver to the front room. Wind Talker had not come back downstairs, which was a relief to Stalker. The three of them settled down to sleep, though Stalker was disturbed by frequent vivid dreams of Hands-and-Face. It was a relief when dawn arrived and the others started to show signs of waking. Stalker leaped up, shifting back into her human form and was the first into the kitchen.
She had a reply from Eyes, agreeing to meet the rest of the pack at the house at 9am. She started making breakfast as the others gradually joined her. Wind Talker had slept upstairs all night and was the last to emerge. They got ready with barely a word, changing into overalls to maintain their cover story.
They set off in the van, an uneasy silence filling the air. When they arrived at the house, Eyes was already there, leaning against his four-wheel drive. He had dark circles under his eyes, was showing at least a day's growth of beard and his hair was unkempt. Stalker approached him cautiously, struck by the difference.
'Are we ready to do this?' Eyes asked, not bothering to greet any of them.
'I don't see that there is anything left to do here,' Wind Talker replied stiffly. 'Have you contacted Mrs Bennett?'
'Yes, she's due here in ten minutes.'
'Let's just make a quick attempt to make it look like we carried out work in there, shall we?' Stalker suggested.
'Agreed,' Wind Talker replied and he led the way.
They went straight to the bunker and hurriedly cleaned some of the dust and cobwebs off the breeze block walls and empty shelves, and swept the floor.
