by Ross Turner
All would be revealed soon enough.
It had to be, he considered silently, as his enormous legs carried him at terrifying speeds across the great plains and through the forests. He bounded further and further with every step and the wind ripped around him as he went.
They were heading straight into the lion’s den. It would take much more than simple chance if they were going to come out alive.
But, undoubtedly, Reaper had already seen much more than chance at work over the past months.
Though she might not have known it yet, Marcii was in the safest hands possible.
He just hoped that would be enough.
He had seen it be plenty before now.
But then, equally, he had seen it go disastrously wrong too.
Attempting to keep his racing thoughts in check, for they had run away with him more than a few times of late, the monstrous demon focused on the task at hand.
The crystal clear, perfect blue sky was only just beginning to darken in the late afternoon as Reaper crossed the land at an unreal pace. When they’d left, wasting not a single moment, Marcii was certain that Reaper wouldn’t be able to maintain his ridiculous stride. But indeed he had, and he seemed not in the least bit fatigued.
Within what felt like only hours they were far away from Ravenhead once more, tearing through trees and around vast lakes and plains as Reaper ran only ever faster.
The weather flickered and changed even still as Marcii’s thoughts raced too, and as her emotions swarmed inside of her.
Because of the biting cold the huge hailstones that had fallen earlier still kicked up about Reaper’s feet in flurrying blizzards.
Despite his size his huge strides made almost no sound as the enormous demon crisscrossed the landscape, heading always perfectly east, straight for Newmarket.
More and more hours passed and Marcii was grateful for Reaper’s warmth as he held her, for though she could feel the icy chill of the wind as he ran, it did not touch her.
Eventually, after what felt like a very long night, Reaper finally slowed. He didn’t stop though and continued on at a brisk walk, shifting Marcii’s weight onto one arm as he did so.
His free hand came up to the young Dougherty’s eye line and flickered into motion, asking her first and foremost if she was okay.
Marcii nodded and Reaper continued.
She quickly realised that he’d slowed to warn her.
They were approaching the canyon.
He assured her there was nothing to fear, and not to panic.
“What do you mean?” Marcii asked, her voice cutting through the cold night like a knife.
Her enormous demon explained that he would not slow down, but that she would be perfectly safe.
Marcii’s stomach turned and knotted slightly and she only managed a nod in reply.
Reaper knew that the longer he left it now the more apprehensive she would become. And so, taking off immediately at another dead run, he moved somehow even faster than before.
All too soon the canyon reared up before them with frightening speed and certainty.
Without even breaking his stride Reaper raced for the edge. At first it didn’t seem to Marcii like he was even going to jump.
Her stomach balled into a tight fist.
He hadn’t bothered to aim for a narrower section of the canyon, for he knew it would not matter.
At the very last moment, pushing off from one foot as he ran, placing his last step unnervingly close to the edge, all of a sudden they were airborne.
The ground disappeared.
The world seemed suddenly to be infinitely bigger than ever before and a vast pit of blackness stretched out endlessly beneath them.
Marcii held her breath, though for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes, as she gazed out at the world seemingly so far below.
Compared to last time Reaper had done this, though her apprehension had been similar, now the fear didn’t grip her so.
She felt as if they sailed a giant arc through the air in glorious slow motion.
Life seemed to pass by below her in the never ending darkness, in that spectacular moment, as if it were without time. Endless generations stretched out before her, secluded in pitch blackness.
Simply existing, but certainly not living.
All too soon Reaper’s feet touched the ground again, but instead of crashing down onto two feet, his momentum was such that he landed without breaking his pace. Setting one foot down in front of his enormous body, his legs churned immediately and they were back off running again.
Marcii marvelled at the magnificent creature, going to such lengths for her, when he needn’t have done any of the things he had for her over the past months.
Truth be told, whilst Reaper had not wanted to go back to Ravenhead, now that he had done, it had struck him agonisingly to leave again.
Through young Marcii’s heart and chest her emotions stirred and flurried endlessly. Forevermore though they would also wreak havoc through Reaper’s enormous body, ripping him to shreds from the inside out.
During that night, as Ravenhead fell further and further away into the distance, and as Newmarket grew ever closer and closer, the monstrous demon was perhaps more human than most, and he felt it all too keenly in the endless darkness.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Lights appeared in the distance, flickering and uncertain in the night.
They seemed to dance and move in Marcii’s vision as they drew nearer, but that was due more to the bobbing motion of Reaper’s enormous strides, than that they were indeed jumping between windows.
As they crested yet another rolling hill beneath the vast ocean of worlds floating above them, Marcii sighed pensively.
It was early morning and they had made exquisite time thanks to Reaper’s relentless pace. He didn’t seem even in the least bit fatigued.
Marcii doubted she would ever see him so.
But then, nothing is impossible, she thought.
As a matter of fact, the young Dougherty had pondered on quite a number of things throughout the duration of their hasty journey. Most of all, as ever, she thought of Kaylm, hoping desperately that they weren’t too late.
She hadn’t had any more visions, so she knew no more than she had done the previous afternoon.
Suddenly, interrupting her swirling notions, Reaper stopped dead, unmoving for a moment.
He crouched low, bending down slowly, surveying the blackness laid out before and all around them with piercing coal eyes.
Marcii held her breath.
Her eyes were adjusted to the night, as they often were these days, but she knew in comparison to Reaper she could likely still see very little.
In fact, she had no idea what he was looking at.
All she could do was wait.
Without warning Reaper raced immediately into motion again, sweeping Marcii along with him.
His enormous strides carried them silently down the front side of the hill they had just crested. They fell within seconds into the deep shadow of the landscape, away from the exposing skyline, and into a dense copse situated below.
“Reaper!” Marcii hissed through clenched, fearful teeth. “What is it?”
But the enormous demon just set her quietly down at the base of a massive tree and brought one enormous finger up to his lips. His hands wove a quick message, warning her that they were not alone.
Marcii opened her mouth to ask if it was Tyran’s men, but caught her tongue just in time, heeding her friend’s warning to remain quieted.
Straining her eyes through the darkness, scanning as best she could between the trees for the shapes of men and the flicker of torches amidst the night, it took Marcii some time to realise that she was looking for something that wasn’t there.
She glanced up at Reaper to find that his expression was steely and grim: more so than she had ever seen it.
Without any idea what he could see that she couldn’t, Marcii continue
d to survey the hills and the fields and the forests, unsure exactly what she should be searching for.
Suddenly, between the shadows and the moonshine that cast down here and there, she saw a figure loping slowly across the land, keeping low to the ground.
Then another.
And another.
Each one followed the last in a slow, steady procession, fanning out across the fields and between the thick trees in set, organised patterns.
They moved on four legs and looked perfectly at home in the wilderness.
Whatever they were, they were not of Newmarket, and most certainly did not belong upon its streets.
But, nonetheless, that’s where they seemed to be heading, making a beeline straight for the town through the heavy night.
“What are they?” Marcii whispered under her breath, her voice barely even breaking the silence for it was so quiet.
Reaper’s panicked hand shot out immediately to cover the sound and he pushed her down low to the ground. He practically threw himself flat to the floor too and Marcii daren’t even breathe, terrified.
Her heart leapt and skipped several beats as fear coursed through her.
She had never seen Reaper act so.
She bit her tongue harshly, knowing by his flurried actions that she had severely endangered them both by disobeying him.
Remaining silent with her head pressed down low to the ground, Marcii could do nothing but wait, hoping desperately that her actions would not have dire repercussions.
Eventually, though Marcii had no idea how much time had passed, Reaper at last rose from the floor to crouch. He helped Marcii to her feet and immediately his hands wove an apology for throwing her down.
Marcii nodded to say that she understood and to apologise, but she daren’t speak again: not until she knew it was safe to do so.
After what felt like another lifetime Reaper finally smiled and nodded encouragingly, ensuring her that it was safe.
“What was it?” The young Dougherty asked, her voice still hushed and shaky.
Reaper knelt on one knee and wove words with his hands in the night.
His soundless explanation told Marcii that it was something he’d hoped they would not have to face and even in his fingers alone Marcii could see the great demon’s fear.
Marcii opened her mouth to ask another question, for still she didn’t know what she’d seen, but she could tell by Reaper’s rushed motions that they had very little time.
The concern that scurried through his enormous body was all too obvious.
“Let’s go.” Marcii suggested quickly, hoping that the sooner they rescued Kaylm, the sooner they could return to the safety of Ravenhead.
Reaper saw the logic in Marcii’s eyes and heard it in her words.
He smiled as warmly and as convincingly as he could manage.
Unfortunately, as much as he may have been trying to comfort Marcii, he could not escape the truth that resided in his own mind.
The enormous, dreadful demon knew that now, no matter what happened, there was no escaping what lay immediately in their path.
If they continued into Newmarket to try to save Kaylm, if he was even still alive, they would be putting themselves in grave danger.
If things were as bad as he feared, it was altogether possible that they might not return.
And then, even if they did, despite all the odds that were stacked so heavily against them, they may very well find that they did not return alone.
Chapter Forty
Marcii crept slowly from shadow to shadow, keeping low and out of sight as much as she could manage.
She was alone, for Reaper had not come with her.
He had instructed her to hide, and quite firmly so. His words had not danced around the point. He had warned her that what they were doing was very dangerous and that, if she were to be faced by anyone, or anything, she was not to confront them.
He would be watching and listening intently.
Without him, clearly, she would be able to find Kaylm more quickly. She knew these streets; he did not. And besides, she would be able to move more quickly and more safely without a great, hulking demon trailing behind her.
She was to get Kaylm and get out.
Those were her instructions.
Nonetheless, Marcii was unable to shake the concern so evident in Reaper’s words from her mind, even as she slunk through the familiar, narrow streets.
It was strange to be back.
The rotting stench of the cat carcasses finally seemed to have faded. She hoped for pity’s sake they had at long last been removed.
Here and there hailstones were still cast about the floor. Most of them had been kicked to the sides of the streets and alleys to clear pathways for carts, but a few still skittered away from Marcii’s feet as she stole through the darkness.
There were very few people that Marcii saw, though when she did it was always too close a call for comfort.
Marcii felt decidedly vulnerable, for she was all too aware that this was not a vision, and indeed that she would most certainly be seen if she was not careful. She stole through the night like a ghost, as many people often seem to.
For the most part those she saw were enforcers. The young Dougherty held her breath every time she hid, slinking as far back into the shadows as she could possibly manage, feeling a fresh, familiar fear filling her chest.
Fortunately, such close encounters were few and far between. She swept on silent feet through the ruined town and towards the square. She was heading, naturally, into Newmarket’s very heart, for she needed to find the worst her old home had to offer, as undoubtedly that was where Kaylm would be.
Or so she hoped at least.
Shudders ran up and down her spine, interlocked with shivers that laced her very bones. The weather was bitterly cold, but Marcii wasn’t sure whether she was feeling it so because the air had turned even harsher, or simply because she was without Reaper’s encompassing warmth.
She felt decidedly lost without the enormous demon at her side and frequently glanced behind her to glimpse his face, only to find that he was not there.
Sighing, the young Dougherty pressed on, forcing her stiff, freezing body to keep moving, searching all the while for her Kaylm.
The square drew nearer and the fearful wind grew harsher, lashing at Marcii with icy fingers. She pulled the sheepskin pelt that she still wore more tightly around her neck and shoulders, fighting to keep the chill at bay.
A sudden sound drew Marcii’s attention and she instinctively shrunk back into the depths of the shadows in the nearest alleyway.
Someone was approaching.
As far as she could tell there were three sets of footsteps, perhaps four.
Holding her breath again, afraid to make even the slightest sound, she curled up into a ball in the coldest, darkest, dankest corner that she had found all night and waited for them to pass.
Their silhouettes flitted in and out of her sight in barely the space of a single heartbeat, and aside from their light, clanking footsteps striking the uneven cobblestones, they made not a sound in the frightful night.
Once they had passed and the sound of their footsteps faded off into the night Marcii detached herself from the shadows in which she had concealed herself.
She didn’t notice the single, lonesome figure that loomed up behind her as she did so.
All but unaware, the young Dougherty peered out into the now empty street once again, checking to see if her path was clear.
Unmoving, the silhouette stood close behind watched her closely, making not a sound.
After a few moments, ready to set off again, Marcii prepared to dart out into the street and cross to the shadowy alleys on the other side.
Suddenly though, just as her legs coiled into springs, a voice like thunder sounded and cut through the silence like death.
Marcii’s heart and legs both faltered and her stomach caved in at the sound, for she’d had no idea there was somebody
behind her. She felt as though she’d been punched in the gut by fear itself as the voice struck her.
“Don’t.” Was all it said.
Without even the breath to scream in shock, for her chest felt as if her lungs had collapsed, Marcii half crumpled and half turned, raising her hands instinctively to protect herself.
Her eyes flashed in the darkness and immediately met the gaze that had been observing her.
Recognition followed her shock and Marcii stammered to speak.
“Hush.” The young orphan’s voice breathed then, rushing to Marcii’s side and cupping her tiny, child sized hand over her mouth.
“Vixen!?” Marcii hissed, shaking off the girl’s hand, though the rest of her words failed her at first, for her heart still skittered to a frantic, terrified rhythm.
“Hush.” Vixen urged again, but Marcii was not listening.
“Vixen!” She repeated, though more harshly this time. “What the…!?”
But she was not allowed to finish.
Vixen’s hand clamped over Marcii’s mouth more firmly: far too firmly for a mere child.
“Shut up!” The young orphan instructed, cracking her words like a whip. Reluctantly, Marcii obeyed, somehow unable to shake the girl off.
They glared at each other for a moment, but Marcii daren’t utter another sound. After a few seconds, allowing a moment for the air to settle, it was the young orphan girl who spoke again.
“You’re in terrible danger.” Vixen warned. “You have to come with me.”
“No!” Marcii suddenly burst out. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!”
Vixen just looked at Marcii as if her ranting was entirely irrelevant. But Marcii continued nonetheless.
“Why do you keep showing up!?” The young Dougherty demanded. “How do you know I’m in danger!? How do you always know where I am!? How do you know any of this!?”
“Marcii…” Vixen attempted, but she wasn’t listening.
“No!” Marcii demanded again, this time refusing to back down. “I want to know!”
