Chapter 012

Sometimes…sometimes a choice makes itself.

Do I stop them?

Harker ran through a cascade of possibilities, all of them foggy and uncertain. Jeren was dangerous to him specifically, but the kids would offer a buffer for a short time. The real question was whether Harker could convince Jeren of the danger.

Unfortunately, he knew the answer. Jeren was too arrogant and no doubt too angry at Harker to trust his word. He could try anyway. Maybe get some of the kids to listen, take them with him.

He grimaced. That would lead to unnecessary conflict, if it even worked. No. Harker had no intention of getting into another fight with Jeren. Not in close quarters anyway.

Never start a fight you can’t finish.

Harker chewed at his lip, thinking. What if we could, though? With Jeren fighting at his side, they’d stand a chance. We might even win.

At the low cost of a few children. What a bargain.

He peeked around the corner. The last of the children filed past his side street, and Harker’s window to convince anyone vanished. Prevention was beyond his reach; defense was the only way forward.

Harker checked his pack. He was fresh out of flour, but he still had a few useful items. Did he save them for himself? Or spend them here—to save Jeren of all people?

“Damn the man,” he muttered. “Those kids don’t deserve to die.”

Harker put his hands on the building and started climbing.

Cecilia trailed behind her older brother, knuckles white around his belt, as if his steady gait would somehow carry him away further than she could follow.

“Don’t worry,” he said, not for the first time. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She didn’t believe that. The monsters were everywhere. Only one had broken into their home, shattering the windows as they’d slept. Her cousins on the lower floors had tried to fight it, but their Talents were too weak.

Their voices went silent before Cecilia was out of her bed.

Her brother had dragged her out of their window, ignoring her cries that she wanted to see their parents first. Mama and papa were still in the house, but Patrin wouldn’t let her go. He’d hauled her across the rooftops, nearly slipping three times on the slick tiles before they’d been forced to climb down. The streets had been just as chaotic, but there were people out there. The two of them had clung to the largest group, moving toward the Lower Fountain. There, they’d found their salvation.

Or so she thought. The hunters in white were deadly with their weapons and Talents, cutting down beast after beast that rushed the square. But they couldn’t stop them all, and anyone that got bitten or scratched were left on the ground, ignored by the hunters as if they were already dead.

“Ignore them,” Jeren said. He carried one of the smaller boys in his arms, but he was talking to the trio of girls following on his heels. “We can’t help.”

Cecilia passed by the same alcove, where a pair of older men were laying against the brickwork. They wouldn’t meet her eyes, but they were breathing as heavily as they bled…and their skin was stained black around their wounds.

“Don’t look,” Patrin whispered.

Cecilia stopped looking at the old men. She didn’t recognize them, and that hurt her heart for some reason.

“Jeren’s the strongest,” her brother said, squeezing her hand tight. “He’ll keep us safe, Cece.”

She trusted her brother, but Jeren was sweaty. He kept turning in little jerking circles, his free hand on the axe at his waist.

He doesn’t look strong. He looks scared.

The ground tipped upward, a swift incline that lead uptown toward the market. They’d traveled across the town from the battle at the Lower Fountain, crossing the river to avoid the spreading fires. Did they really have to go so far?

She considered asking her brother, but he’d give the same answer as before. “Follow Jeren.”

She didn’t know all the parts of the Vale, but it wasn’t a big town. Cecilia recognized a few of the homes now, and was tempted to try any of them, hoping to find anyone that had survived. Many of them were probably hiding inside their homes. Couldn’t they just bang on the doors and go in? They were sturdy things, and only a few had windows. Without windows, the beasts couldn’t get in, right?

I don’t care if Garon has a strongroom big enough to hold the town! The climb up the hill was too long and she was so very tired. “Patrin, I—”

She froze.

“Cece? What is it?”

Just ahead, beyond the rustle of the others, she could hear it. A sound like cloth rubbing against itself. Snuffling? She looked about. No one else seemed to have noticed it, not even Patrin. “Don’t you hear that?”

“What?” Her brother looked about. “I don’t hear anything.”

“We’re almost to Garon’s now, just a bit further.” Jeren had set down the boy he’d been holding. His voice sounded cheery, but Cecilia knew when someone was faking it.

Something was wrong.

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A great crash broke the night, and everyone jumped. Even Jeren.

He pulled the axes from his hip. “Depths! What is this?”

A planter the size of a man had crashed onto the alleyway, spilling broken shards, mounts of dirt, and the tight root ball of a Winter-dead plant.

Cece looked up. She caught a glimpse of something on the roof. A shadow. Her eyes widened when the figure put a finger to his mouth, then pointed up the road. She followed it as if it were a lodestone, and she spied the uphill curve of the alleyway…and another shadow. This one stalked between the piles of refuse and stacked crates, nearly lost amid the darkness between houses. It had wrong legs and patchwork fur…and red eyes.

“Illwrought!” she cried, but it only came out as a squeak. No one heard her through Jeren’s curses.

“Monster,” she tried again.

“What?” Her brother leaned closer. “What did you say?”

She pointed, just as the Illwrought leapt out of the shadows. Its body caught the light, its fangs glistening, eyes burning embers.

Something hit it in the chest with the sound of shattering glass…and the blazing light of the rising sun itself.

Everyone cried out, falling back. Cecilia blinked away crawling afterimages, tears streaming down her face while her brother clutched at her, screaming. “Monster!”