Tides of Spring: A Dark Shapeshifter Urban Fantasy (Echoes of the Past Book 3)

by H B Lyne

  'That's right. He has a special skill set.' Rust grinned.

  'I saw, at my house.' Eyes' voice wavered slightly at the memory of the Witches' attack on his family. Through the smoke he had seen a member of the Wrecking Crew peel the bonnet off a car like it was a banana.

  'That's right,' Rust said stiffly.

  'So wrapping the chains around the Green Man quickly shouldn't be a problem.'

  'With any luck. What about the Glass Wolves?'

  'I want them covering the Witches and the perimeter. I need to go over the details with Theodore still. Have you ever seen them in a fight?'

  'Oh yes,' Rust chuckled. 'They're like a well-oiled machine.'

  'I somehow have trouble picturing Theodore getting his hands dirty,' Eyes mused.

  'He won't if he can help it, but you can tell by the size of him that he's capable enough.'

  'Well look at you two, all friendly.' The slick voice interrupted them and all of the shifters span to face Tar Peter as he sidled out from behind the van.

  'I told you never to set foot on my yard again!' Rust snapped, his chest puffing up.

  'I see you two know each other,' Eyes said, bemused by the exchange.

  'Oh, we go way back, Tar Peter and me.' Rust strode over to the demon and swung his fist towards his face. Tar Peter was ready, however, and his entire head turned into liquid tar before Rust's fist could make impact. His knuckles flew straight through the tar and came out the other side coated in the sticky substance. Tar Peter's face reformed, a smarmy smile fixed to it.

  'You missed me, you missed me, now you have to kiss me,' the demon mocked.

  'Okay, that's enough,' Eyes said, stepping in between them. Rust flicked tar onto the ground and pulled a rag from his back pocket to wipe the rest off his hand. He scowled all the while at the demon. 'Tar Peter is our ally, he's going to help us. Aren't you?' Eyes looked pointedly at him and the demon's smile slid from his face.

  'Yes. I found the perfect construct for your special van, here.' He looked up at the van beside them with a look of derision. 'I still think it's a ridiculous plan.'

  'What construct?' Rust snapped.

  'An old friend of mine who has spent the last five years living in a wrecking ball, due to his intense desire to smash things. He says he quite fancies a change of scenery, so is willing to move into your battering ram.' Tar Peter managed to amble his way through his words without looking directly at Rust. Eyes wondered what the history was between them, and fought between amusement and irritation at their animosity.

  'Excellent,' Eyes said, forcing a smile. 'That should help us get through the factory wall.'

  'I'll tell my friend he can move in then, shall I?' Tar Peter drawled.

  'Yes please,' Eyes replied. Rust nodded in agreement, and Tar Peter sank into the ground, leaving a small pool of liquid tar behind.

  'Do you need any help attaching this to the roof?' Claws asked, indicating the gun. 'There should probably be some sort of strap to buckle the gunner in up there.' His eyes gleamed and Rust seemed to cotton on to Claws' desire to be that gunner.

  'We can handle it, thanks,' Rust said in amusement. 'I look forward to seeing you in action up there though.'

  'Thanks.' Claws grinned.

  'Great. Well, we'll leave you to it. I'll be in touch as soon as we have a time for Wednesday.'

  Rust escorted them back to Eyes' car and waved them off. Claws sat beside Eyes, twitching nervously. 'I'm sure your precious new toy will be just fine in their care,' Eyes reassured him.

  'Yeah, you're probably right,' Claws said with a sigh. Eyes tried not to laugh.

  'Why didn't you tell me you wanted me to lead the attack on the Witches?' Stalker asked. Their eyes met in the rear-view mirror.

  'I didn't want to make it sound like a really big deal, because it's not. You're my deputy, as far as I'm concerned, and it's only natural that my most capable fighter would lead the attack.'

  'What about Theodore and the Glass Wolves though? They're all more experienced than me. And Rust is right, there's bound to be bad feeling about being made to fall in line behind me.' She spoke hurriedly, but didn't take her eyes off his in the mirror.

  'You can do this. You've faced a lot in the last few months.'

  'Where will Wind Talker and Weaver be?' Claws asked, glancing sideways at Eyes.

  'Wind Talker in the van with us, Weaver with Stalker. They are by far the stealthiest, so can get closest without detection. We need to surprise the Witches.' He looked back up to the mirror. Stalker was nodding, her cheeks ablaze.

  'That makes sense.'

  'The Glass Wolves will have your back,' Eyes reassured her. 'The primary aim is to disrupt the ritual, take out Spinner-of-Crystal, don't take on the whole pack. Okay?'

  'Yeah, I think we can handle that. Do you think Weaver's okay with it?'

  'Why wouldn't she be?'

  'Well, what if her sister's there?'

  'She made her feelings about her sister very clear,' Eyes said firmly. He couldn't spend time second guessing what his pack may or may not be capable of. He had to trust them to get the job done, and by and large, he did.

  They got back to Grove Street, and Stalker set off to relieve Weaver from patrol duty.

  'I know the timing could be better,' Claws said tentatively. 'But I have an open case that I need to just dip into this afternoon. It won't take more than a couple of hours. I just need to keep my business ticking over.'

  'Of course, I understand. Now that Stalker's employment situation looks... uncertain, we need to make sure we have enough money coming in to keep us fed and what not. Take care of your business. I want a really thorough scout of the factory tonight, on both sides of the veil, and I want to build a weapon for myself.'

  'Oh really?' Claws raised an eyebrow. 'You want something more than your teeth and claws?'

  'Yes,' Eyes replied defiantly. 'I know, I know. Look, I'm joining the weapons club, let's just accept it and move on without further comment.'

  Claws grinned, then set off for work. Eyes went over all of the plans several times, pacing the kitchen and running things over in his mind. This was going to work, it had to work. Everything ached and eventually he had to give in and get some rest. He was going to need it.

  It was nearly dark when he woke up. There were voices in the kitchen and Eyes dragged himself from the sofa and rolled up his shirt sleeves as he stumbled through to the other room. Weaver, Wind Talker and Claws were sitting around the table, a selection of strange little ornaments in front of them.

  'Evening,' Wind Talker said, smiling.

  'Looks like you had a productive day with Spark,' Eyes said, nodding at the trinkets on the table.

  'Very,' Wind Talker replied. He picked up a small coil of electrical wiring coated in blue rubber and handed it to Eyes.

  'What's this?'

  'Well, I know about your weapon plans,' Wind Talker said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 'This is for the grip. It's wire from the substation. It won't be missed, don't worry. Unchained Lightning gave his blessing before I took it.'

  'Thanks.' Eyes smiled. Wind Talker stood and hoisted up something heavy from behind the table. It was a charred war hammer. Eyes glared at it, disbelief numbing him. 'Is that what I think it is?'

  'Yes,' Wind Talker said, passing the maul to the Alpha. 'I dug it out of the wreckage the day after the attack on the Blue Moon. I've been saving it for when you were ready.'

  'I was going to make my own,' Eyes said absently, turning the weapon over in his hands. The grip had been destroyed in the fire, a few bedraggled remnants of leather remained stuck to the metal core. The once smooth wooden handle was splintered and black, but it seemed structurally sound. The huge iron head had small dents in it from a lifetime of use. Eyes remembered Fortune wielding the impressive weapon against demons. The mere sight of it had been enough to turn the Wrecking Crew back that night in the street when Weaver escaped the Witches. 'Thank you.' He looked up at Wind Talker,
who was watching him with reverence.

  'You're welcome. We need to make it battle-worthy though. I didn't want to press on with that, I thought you would want to craft it yourself.'

  'Yeah, thanks. I was thinking about getting it imbued with extra powers. Do you have any thoughts on that?'

  'I do. Unchained Lightning isn't at the top of the food chain of power fae in Caerton. There's something bigger, it lives in the nuclear power plant.'

  Eyes glanced at Claws and Weaver, who didn't seem surprised or alarmed by this revelation. Had Wind Talker already talked to them about all of this?

  'Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?' Eyes asked, his eyes wide.

  'I am. But I don't think you need to worry, I don't think she would turn your hammer into a nuclear weapon,' Wind Talker added hastily. 'She's a power fae and was drawn to the place in Caerton that generates the most power, that's all. She might up and move if they ever build that offshore wind farm that they've been talking about forever.'

  'Okay, let's pay her a visit then.' He took the wire and spent a minute winding it tightly around the hilt of the maul. It was a symbolic gesture, using wiring that had fed their power ally in the construction of a powerful weapon. The shamanistic magic of their kind had a power that Eyes didn't pretend to understand. But it worked. Eyes didn't know what exact effect it would have, but he was excited to see.

  The four of them set off in Eyes' car. The power station was across the river and out to the west of the city, on what had been the territory of the Storm Riders. They no longer needed permission to enter, as that pack had perished. Eyes wondered what would happen to the area. If no one rose up in place of them to claim it, it would end up like neighbouring St. Catherine's. That could cause a whole heap of trouble for themselves and the other shifters of Caerton. Would the Furies use it as ammunition against them? As a way to justify their intervention? If Caerton's shifters couldn't control the city sufficiently then there might be a case in their own laws for the Furies riding into town to take over. His hands twisted nervously on the wheel.

  The power station had a sprawling car park that was nearly empty, and Eyes parked in a space at the perimeter. The vast, grey cooling towers dominated the skyline, white steam billowing into the dark blue sky.

  'Claws, can you take out any security cameras and these floodlights, please?' Eyes asked. Claws nodded and strode to the fence that separated the car park from a line of trees. He placed his hand on the nearest lamp post and the rear half of the car park was immediately plunged into darkness. They crossed the veil unseen and Eyes stopped in his tracks at the sight that greeted them.

  Where the towers and domes and blinking red and yellow lights stood in the human world, an enormous structure of crystal jutting out of a flat plain stood in Hepethia. Vast towers of clear, orange and red quartz erupted from the ground at odd angles, forming a stunning palace, taller than the cooling towers of the power station, that glinted in the pale light of the waxing crescent moon. Somehow the crystals shone with a light of their own, casting eerie coloured light across the plain.

  Eyes wished Stalker was with them, but they couldn't risk leaving their territory unguarded during their excursion. He would have to recommend that she visit this place another time.

  Movement behind the first layer of crystals caught his attention, and Eyes led the pack across the plain towards the structure. As they drew closer, Eyes saw that there were ripples of energy flowing up the crystal struts. Occasionally little sparks would be emitted, and when two fluctuations leapt from neighbouring struts at the same time there was a discharge of static that caused lightning to leap from one strut to another. It was breathtaking.

  Something else moved inside the structure, however, something disconnected from the crystals. At first Eyes just caught glimpses of a rippling body through the narrow gaps. But the fae was working its way closer to them and undulating between crystals.

  Unchained Lightning soared overhead and landed heavily next to the Lightning Lords, stretching his leathery wings with a flourish.

  'Thank you for the wire,' Eyes said softly. Their ally nodded his huge head slowly. 'And thank you for coming here. Do you have many dealings with this fae?'

  'Not directly,' the dragon beside him said with a throaty hum. 'But all power in and out of the city flows through her, we are connected on the vast web and are aware of each other.'

  'I see.'

  'You are going to ask her to add power to your weapon.'

  'Yes. Do you think she'll agree?'

  'I do not know.' Unchained Lightning launched himself into the air and circled above them. Eyes took another few steps towards the magnificent crystal formation and cleared his throat. He glanced at his pack mates, who all bore expressions of awe and wonder as they gazed up.

  Wind Talker caught the Alpha's eye and they exchanged nods. He took his knife out of his bag and cut his thumb. He rubbed the blood onto a small, white bag stuffed with ritual herbs and set light to it. The air filled with pungent smoke, and the movement inside the crystalline palace became frenzied. Static discharges filled the air with thunder and flashes of lightning. The ground trembled. From out of the structure soared a vast, bright white bird, which lit up the plain as if by the most powerful floodlights.

  She lost substance in the almost black sky, becoming shimmering smoke that slowly settled over the palace like a cloak.

  'Do you think we upset her?' Weaver asked softly.

  'No, she's fine,' Wind Talker replied. 'She wasn't expecting me to do that, but she's not hostile towards us.' Eyes noticed a shining copper bangle around Wind Talker's wrist, etched with tiny runes. A new toy from his day with Spark. Claws was wearing one too and he nodded in agreement. 'Forgive us for startling you, Furnace-of-Sol. Would you please grant us an audience?' Wind Talker's voice echoed off the grand crystalline structure and rebounded back at the shifters in a hundred tiny shards.

  The smoke slowly dissipated, as if being sucked back inside the palace. As the last tendrils disappeared, a great fire suddenly burst to life, sending ripples of light up the smooth crystals. Eyes took a step back, his skin prickling against the sudden, blazing heat. The others stepped back as well and Weaver raised a hand to shield her eyes from the bright flames.

  The bird rose again from the flames and soared overhead. Eyes watched her in awe. Music was just audible inside the palace, beyond the roaring of the fire, and he realised they were in the presence of a phoenix, not a bird. The phoenix flew down to the ground and landed gently in front of them. She flickered, as if alight from the inside, glowing like the embers of a fire. She was as tall as any of them, and her wings were tipped with gold. Her long tail shimmered deep turquoise, like that of a peacock and little sparks showered off it onto the sandy ground as she swept it from side to side.

  'Who are you?' Her voice was melodic and curious.

  'We are the Lightning Lords,' Eyes said, lifting his chin. 'Thank you for agreeing to see us.'

  'You gave me little choice. Few have ever come before me so brazenly. I see you have one of my own in your party.' She inclined her head towards Unchained Lightning, who still circled overhead.

  'We do,' Eyes replied.

  'That pleases me,' Furnace-of-Sol said, a smile to her voice.

  'We had hoped to speak to you about imbuing this weapon with power.' Eyes held out the war hammer across his palms. It looked sad and broken in the flickering firelight, and Eyes wished he'd had time to repair it before approaching this magnificent fae queen.

  The phoenix stepped forward and looked carefully at the maul.

  'Why would I do such a thing?'

  'Because The Lightning Lords are powerful,' Claws said, his voice deep and dangerous. 'When our Alpha wields that weapon in battle, and destroys our enemies, it will be a mighty display of that power. It will make people quake. You could have your stamp on that display of power.'

  The phoenix bobbed her head slowly and looked first at Claws, then to Eyes, appraisi
ng them both. Eyes felt her probing his mind and heart; he put up no resistance. He wanted her to see his intentions, that was the only way she might grant him some of her power.

  At his core, if he was totally honest with himself, he wanted to be more powerful, to make people tremble in awe of him. He wanted to be the big hero, who united the packs of Caerton against the Furies. He needed a weapon to inspire others. Furnace-of-Sol bobbed her head, and a pearlescent tear appeared at the corner of one eye.

  'Don't let arrogance override your guiding motivation,' she said softly, so that only he could hear. 'But don't carry the weight of the dead either. Honour them and release them. Will you do that for yourself?'

  'Yes, of course,' he replied, dipping his head and swallowing a hard lump that had formed in his throat.

  'Very well,' Furnace-of-Sol said sharply. Without warning, she burst into flames, engulfing Eyes and the hammer. A scream rose in his throat, but died before it reached the air. Energy roared through him, and plenty of heat, but he wasn't burning. The flames surrounded them and a fierce wind blew up around them, swirling and dragging the flames into a blazing spiral. He could hear his pack mates shouting and screaming on the other side of the fire, though they sounded muffled.

  'I'm okay!' he tried to cry out, but his throat was dry and closed tight, and nothing but a strangled whimper escaped. I'm fine, he impressed with his mental voice instead, hoping it would get through to them amidst the chaos.

  The phoenix was floating just above the ground, her head turned to the dark sky, and he realised that her wings surrounded him. She had drawn him into herself, it was her fire that surrounded him. The hammer in his hands grew hot and heavy and he gazed down at it. Little chips of wood and iron seemed to be sucked out of the surrounding flames and attached themselves to the maul. Gradually it was rebuilding itself, layer upon layer.

  The weapon became sturdy and new once more. The wire that he had wrapped around the hilt sealed itself firmly in place, forming a strong grip. The dented iron head was restored to a smooth, gleaming surface, and the wooden handle was no longer charred and splintered, but smooth and polished.