by H B Lyne
'All right,' Wind Talker said, caution in his voice. Eyes passed him the contract to examine, and watched with a bemused smirk as Wind Talker hurriedly read through it. The Alpha put it back on the desk and bent to sign it first with a bright red quill that the fae had provided. The others each took their turn to sign it.
'Lovely,' the fae said, smiling again. She neatly folded the contract and slid it into the box. 'Now, you wanted to trade information?'
'That's right,' Wind Talker said, puffing up his chest. 'We need to find a missing construct.'
'I see. Is its location a secret? Or simply not known?'
'It seems to have deliberately hidden itself,' Claws replied.
Eyes felt Stalker go suddenly very tense beside him, worry clouded her mind. He tried to look at her discreetly, sure enough, her face had drained of colour. What was she so anxious about?
'I see,' the fae replied. 'Come with me.' She led them away from the desk, the box containing the topaz and contract clutched in one hand, a large key ring jingling in her other. She went to one of the doors and unlocked it. As she opened it, light spilled out and Eyes had to shield his eyes as he entered after her. The room was a brightly lit, high-tech vault. The walls were lined with small boxes set into them, each with a tiny keypad. The fae went to one of the boxes, tapped a few buttons and the little door popped open, a drawer slid out and a slight ripple flowed out of it around the room. Eyes watched as she placed the box into the drawer. She left it open and turned to face Wind Talker. 'Here is the code.' She passed him a small slip of paper. 'Memorise it and destroy the paper.'
Wind Talker looked at it and then passed it to Claws, who looked at it carefully for a moment, then screwed it up and swallowed it. Eyes resented not getting to see it, but trusted Claws far above Wind Talker, and was glad that he would now have it committed to his eidetic memory.
'Thank you,' Wind Talker said, softening to the fae a little.
'You're welcome. I'll leave you to it.' She swept from the room and closed the door. Eyes listened for it locking, but it didn't. He let out a long-held breath and glanced around at the others.
A shadow flickered in the corner and Eyes heard frantic whispering. The room was bright white, with no obvious source of light, this shadow shouldn't exist, yet here it was. It unfolded from the corner and moved into the centre of the room, flickering and shifting slightly as it moved.
'Ahhhhh,' the shadow sighed. There was something greedy about it as it shuffled forward, its dark edges reaching out towards the shifters.
'Coveted Secrets?' Wind Talker addressed the demon.
'Yesssss?' The demon's voice dripped.
'We need to find Limb Chewer. Do you know where it is?'
'Hmmm, it's in here somewhere.' Shapes resembling hands unfolded from the shadowy creature and indicated the room around them. Eyes looked around in alarm, before realising that the demon meant the secret, not the construct itself. 'A secret for a secret,' the demon whispered.
Eyes looked carefully at Stalker, she was chewing a nail and her eyes darted from one pack mate to another. She wasn't parting with her secrets any time soon. Weaver and Claws exchanged concerned glances, before both settling their gaze on Wind Talker. Eyes knew what secret he would be willing to trade, and he suspected Wind Talker had come to the same conclusion. The Alpha lifted his chin and moved towards their deposit box. He locked eyes with the demon as he leaned close to the box and whispered.
'We found a Spiral Hand traitor, Hidden Voice, locked in a basement, and I killed him.'
Coveted Secrets released a disturbing moan, it was almost sexual and Eyes wrinkled his nose in revulsion.
'Perrrrrfect,' the demon sighed.
The deposit box whipped shut, almost catching Wind Talker's lip as the drawer sped past his face and into the wall. The door slammed shut and white light flared up around its edges for a second.
A box on the other side of the room slid slowly open and a whisper drifted up from it. Coveted Secrets reached out and caught the whisper in his shadowy fingers. 'Limb Chewer can be found in a factory in Northgate, Compton Limited.' The open drawer slid slowly back into the wall and locked itself.
'Thank you,' Wind Talker said, eyeing the demon carefully. 'Does the previous owner of that secret get to find out that someone came looking for it?'
'No,' the demon replied silkily. Eyes swallowed. It was unlikely, but remained possible that someone might trade something for the secret about Hidden Voice one day. Hopefully long after the Lightning Lords were gone. He was ready to put that event behind them, he had had his fill of repercussions, of echoes of the past.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow
The Lightning Lords left the bright lights of the vault, and crossed the dark basement to the sun-washed stairs. Stalker looked back over her shoulder as the vault door swung slowly closed and clicked shut. The green fae was gone, and the shifters made their way back to the main market.
'Can we stay and look around?' Weaver asked, her face lit up with curiosity.
'I don't see why not,' Wind Talker replied. Weaver dashed away, making a beeline through the crowd.
'I have to work,' Stalker muttered. Her hands were still shaking slightly, and she suspected that Eyes at least had picked up on her anxiety. She didn't want to draw questions from any of them. Claws placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she looked at his kind smile.
'It's not as late as it feels,' he said at her ear. 'You've got time.'
She smiled back at him and drifted away from him, wandering over to a nearby table of trinkets. Her gaze settled on a wooden box about the size of a cigar box. It had tiny runes carved into the lid, and she ran her finger over the warm, smooth wood.
The creature behind the stall moved over to her. He was a short, gnarled man in a neat shirt and waistcoat. There was something goblin-like about his long nose and pointed ears, and when he smiled he showed sharp teeth like the green fae's.
'Do you like the pretty box?' he asked, his voice lower than she expected.
'I do. What do the runes say? I don't recognise them.'
'They belong to my people, rather than yours,' the goblin replied. 'A kiss hides me, a whisper opens me.'
'Excuse me?'
'That's what the runes say. Do you want it? Pretty box for pretty lady?'
'I don't think I have anything to trade for it,' she said with a reluctant sigh.
'What about those?' The goblin pointed a bony finger towards her neck. Her hand went reflexively to the two talismans hung on their black cords.
'No, they're not for sale.'
'Shame,' the goblin croaked. He tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. 'I could take something else in exchange. Is there anything you want to part with? A burden you're tired of carrying, perhaps?'
Stalker regarded him carefully. Had he read her thoughts? Looked into her soul, the way she could? She didn't remotely trust this fellow, and suspected there could be a hidden clause to that sort of trade.
'I'm not sure,' she replied slowly.
'There's no catch, my dear,' the goblin said, with a wide grin. 'Give me a memory, or unhappy thought and the box is yours. I will only take what you freely offer.'
'Will it leave a hole? Or be filled by something else?'
'The memory is a curious thing, unpredictable. Some people experience a gap, they know they have forgotten something, but not what it is. Others find that their memory moulds itself around the missing item, making sense of it somehow, rationalising it.'
'And the box will hide itself? And its contents, I presume?'
The goblin simply inclined his head in reply. Stalker chewed her tongue, considering her options. There were plenty of things that she would like to forget, but she knew that those memories motivated her, and forgetting any of them might take some of the fight out of her. 'No,' she said with resolve. 'The price is too high, I don't want the box that much. Thank you.'
She turned and walked a
way from the stall. She heard the goblin chuntering about her as she went, but ignored him. Her eyes settled on Claws at another stall and she reached him just as he turned away, almost bumping right into her. They both laughed, and he held up a little paper bag.
'I bought something. You?'
'Not in the end, too expensive. What did you get?'
'It's crazy, I doubt I'll ever use it, but I couldn't resist.' His eyes shone and his grin lit up his rugged face. 'It's a bullet that is guaranteed to kill its mark!'
'What on earth?' Stalker said, stepping back from him in shock.
'No, don't look at me like that. It has one use, ever, right? It'd be destroyed on use. It has a price too, a really heavy one, using it would be a real last resort.' His face had sunk, like a shadow had fallen over it.
'What is it?'
'It'll kill its mark, but takes the one who fires it out too.'
'Right, so use it and take yourself down with your enemy?' She raised an eyebrow at him.
'Yeah. Like I said, I'll probably never use it, but it can't hurt to have something like that up my sleeve. You never know.'
'You'll have to load it into your gun first though. You'd have to know in advance that you were going to use it.'
'I know.' He looked resolutely away from her, and she shook her head.
'I'm going to have to head back to St. Mark's. I have to get to work for three. Where are the others?' She craned her neck, searching for the rest of the pack among the crowd.
'You go, I'll tell the others when I find them. See you back at the house later, yeah? We have to go find this factory tonight.' He looked into her eyes and she knew he was warning her not to go off to see Rhys instead of returning to the pack after work. She nodded in agreement and left the Trading Post through the main doors.
The twins were sitting on the steps, one of them was smoking a cigarette. Stalker cleared her throat and they turned to look up at her.
'You finished?' asked the one in the cap.
'I am, but my pack mates are still shopping.' It was a warm afternoon, the blue sky looked too tempting to resist. 'You don't need to escort me, I can fly north. You can watch me clear your territory easily enough from here. Is that okay?'
The twins looked at each other, then back at her. They both nodded.
'I suppose so,' replied the twin in the cap again.
'Thank you.' Stalker leaped into the air, shifting into a big barn owl and taking flight. She flew north over the perilous city centre. From overhead it looked just as terrifying as it had from the edge of China Town. She swooped east and skirted the boundary between the centre and the Glass Wolves' territory, following the line of their enormous wall. As she crossed into St. Mark's she felt more at ease and flew lower. She knew where to cross the veil like the back of her hand and emerged in human form in a wooded park just south of her dojo.
When she got to work, the dojo was buzzing with activity. Ron was chatting to some prospective students, and one of her colleagues was just finishing a class. She went into the staff changing room and hung her dha in her locker, along with her jacket. She didn't notice the extra weight in the jacket as it bumped against the back of the locker, and slammed the door without a second thought.
After her classes, Stalker left the dojo feeling reasonably light hearted.
'See you next week,' a student called to her as he got into his car and she raised a hand to wave.
Stalker walked quickly away from the dojo, and at the corner broke into a run. She took a familiar route back to Grove Street, through a car park, over a fence, down off an overpass and along a high wall along the edge of the dual carriageway. The wind against her face was refreshing. It wasn't quite dark, the sun had dipped below the horizon, but the sky still glowed purple, and the street lights hadn't all come on yet.
She arrived at the house a little breathless, but feeling energised. The house was quiet, and she found the rest of the pack eating in tense silence in the kitchen.
'Everyone okay?' she asked, as she helped herself to the stew on the stove.
'Yeah,' Claws replied. 'Just anxious to get this done, I think.'
He got up and made space for Stalker to sit down. Wind Talker was chewing loudly beside her, wet, chomping sounds that grated on her nerves.
'Do we know where we're going?' she asked, hoping that conversation would distract her.
'It's right on the border of Redfield and Northgate, it's a printing press,' Eyes replied. Stalker saw something in his eyes, confidence that hadn't been there for days.
'We'll go there in the human world and take a look around,' Wind Talker said. He finished his food and took his plate to the sink. 'Sparking Clank wants Limb Chewer destroyed. So we find him and do just that.'
'Okay.' Stalker ate quickly, not wanting to delay them. Wind Talker left the room and stomped up the stairs. Stalker felt the familiar unease settle back in her gut, that resentment towards him for everything that had happened since finding Hidden Voice. She swallowed a particularly tough chunk of beef and scraped her bowl clean. She stood, the chair legs scraping loudly across the floor and everyone else got to their feet without a word.
'We're ready,' Weaver called up the stairs as she reached them. A moment later Wind Talker came jogging down, his bag across his shoulder and coat done up, ready to go. Stalker despised the way he had separated himself from the pack since taking control. He had criticised Eyes for doing that. She didn't want to admit that he was probably avoiding her and her hostility. He led the pack out and they walked north through the dark city.
Stalker noticed less of a chill in the air and realised that it was nearly March. The stars were just visible in the clear sky, despite the light pollution.
Weaver took her arm as they walked, and they exchanged small smiles.
'How are you doing?' Weaver asked quietly.
'Fine. You?'
'Adapting,' she replied, with another smile. Stalker griped her arm tighter.
'Yeah.'
They walked on in silence. The terraces of St. Mark's gave way to the factories of Northgate and Wind Talker led them to Compton Limited, checking a map on his phone periodically.
It was a stone block in the middle of a cluster of bigger factories, and had one long row of windows along the front wall, made up of small panes set into lead. The building was dark and quiet, the small car park in front was empty. The street was well lit, and the businesses surrounding Compton were just closing.
'Why do we keep finding ourselves at these places?' Stalker whispered. Weaver chuckled.
'This is North Caerton.' She gave Stalker a wink and Stalker couldn't help smiling.
'We need cover,' Wind Talker snapped. 'Claws?'
Claws approached a nearby street light, and pressed his hand against it. The light flickered out, along with several others nearby that evidently shared a circuit. Stalker ran towards the building, the others followed her. She found a side door and examined it. It was old and wooden, with a traditional Yale lock. She braced her shoulder against it and shoved hard. The wood splintered around the lock, and the door gave way. She swung it open and they filed inside.
The door opened into a narrow passage. Wind Talker led them quietly towards another door at the other end, which opened onto the factory floor. Rows of complicated machinery stood still and silent throughout the place. Stalker didn't know much about printing, but the machines all clearly had different roles in the process. Several resembled open mouths, with smooth surfaces inviting someone to risk placing their hands inside. She shuddered at the thought of losing a hand to one of them, and wondered in which one Limb Chewer had taken up residence.
'What's the plan?' Stalker whispered. They fanned out slightly, moving slowly between the machines.
'I think we'll have to wreck the right machine in order to drive the demon out, then we can destroy him.' Wind Talker didn't sound certain.
'How do we know which is the right one?' she asked.
Wind Talker glared at he
r then rolled his eyes. He tucked his talisman into his shirt so that it made contact with his skin, his eyes got that peculiar glazed expression as he looked across the veil.
Stalker felt something odd about the place. She looked around, but couldn't place what it was. She felt heavier here, as if gravity were stronger.
'This one,' Wind Talker said abruptly, pointing towards one of the mouth-like machines. It was huge, and shone silver in the glow from the re-lit street lights outside the windows. 'He's right here in the machine, I can see glowing eyes. It's so odd, like he occupies the same space as the machine.'
Stalker thought of Rhys's cloak and knew exactly what he meant. She strode to the machine and looked for a piece to tear off, and the others joined her. She soon found what she was looking for, a thick bar ran through the joint at the back of the mouth, and on one end was a metal lever. She shifted form, giving the Agrius a chance to do its thing. She wrenched the lever off with a grinding crunch of tearing metal and began striking the rest of the machine with it. The clanging echoed throughout the building.
Eyes and Weaver shifted form too, and added their strength to the job. Together they ripped the top jaw from the beast of a machine, and threw it across the floor. Stalker tugged the cables out of the back of the machine, and severely dented the lower plate with the lever. Weaver and Eyes took the legs out from under it and the whole thing fell to the floor with a deafening clunk.
Wind Talker held up his hand and they stopped to look at him. Stalker felt a change in the air; the veil had shifted, but it didn't ripple like it usually did. It felt more like the change in air pressure from a sealed door opening. Materialising in front of them was a grotesque, black and silver construct, all metal and joints, and enormous gnashing teeth. It had glowing red eyes, and as Stalker looked closely, she saw that bits of it were held together with flesh. Bile rose in her throat as she saw the stringy sinew and blood trickling down the side of the demonic construct.
Limb Chewer lurched towards them, crunching the pieces of its mundane host beneath his spider-like legs. Wind Talker roared and erupted in thick fur. He pounced onto the demon's back, punched furiously at it and tore frantically at any part that looked like it might come loose. Stalker was next into the fight, followed by Eyes and Weaver.
