Edner perused a merchant's stand just off to the side of the festival, where the firelight cast long shadows in red but things were somewhat quieter. He handed over a few glass coins – luckily, the currency of the Sabine Pact was accepted even here – in exchange for a mask shaped like a feline skull. He gave it a small, nervous smile as he turned it in his hands, looking at its big eye sockets, its huge open jaw and teeth. His tail wrapped around him on reflex and he took a moment to push it down, like it was some unruly creature.
As Edner put the mask on, he heard a loud metallic crack, a great groan and wooden slam, and then a breathy huff that made the music of the magic overhead waiver. He turned to look out over the celebration and saw that, far on the other side of the festival, a huge plume of black smoke had suddenly risen into the sky. There was so much fire in the festival that without that great pillar, he wouldn’t have noticed the fire blazing from the roof of a warehouse that he could just make out beyond some stony shops. “Uh oh. Looks like someone partied too hard.”
He wasn’t surprised to see people running. But the dark figure streaking smoke across the festival did surprise him, a familiar form running hell-to-Sunfire in a straight line away from the burning building. Her dress dark and torn, she kept her frantic gaze straight forward as she tore through the festival, knocking aside anyone that got in her way. She cleared the celebration grounds and kept going, charging through the night.
She ran past Edner. He turned to watch her go. He called out, “Indirk! What happened?” She didn’t notice him at all, didn’t respond. He thought he should go after her, but she looked so afraid, so messed up, that even having the idea made Edner’s tail wrap twice around him so tight that he felt his breath squeezed out of him. As he wheezed and grabbed at his tail, the mask-seller's stand beside him quaked and creaked, leaning toward him and almost falling. Edner jumped away as fake skulls spilled on the ground around him.
He barely glimpsed the movement of a dark shadow behind the stand, something passing so quickly that it couldn’t be seen. It struck the merchant behind the stand and sent them tumbling, side over side, over and over, trailing blood. Edner stared at the merchant’s still body for a few seconds before noticing the open belly, the guts strewn on the stone, the trail of blood stretching in the direction Indirk had run. Edner choked at the sight of it, holding his tail with both hands and feeling himself retch. His knees went weak and he almost fell, but then a panic took hold and he turned to run.
Strong hands caught him by both shoulders and Edner almost screamed, but Amo was quick to hush him and say, “Edner, it’s me. Breathe.”
Letting out just the beginning of a humiliating whimper, Edner managed to swallow it and stand straight. “Oh, Amo! Wind and Sunfire, thank you. Some strange, mad fate's set some trap here, and I don’t know-“
“Indirk!” Amo gave Edner a shake. “Did you see her?”
“Off into the city,” Edner nodded. “Straight away. Just running a line.”
Amo pushed Edner aside and bolted off.
Stumbling, Edner shouted, “Something pursues her, Amo! Follow the blood!”
“Find Phaeudin!” Amo called back.
Edner stood in place, breathing hard as he watched Amo hurry into the dark of Gray Watch’s night. He grabbed at his chest and his collar, and felt something wet. There was red on his fingertips, from where he’d touched wet handprints on his shoulders: from Amo’s hands, Amo’s blood-drenched hands. Edner gagged. “What? What? Why is this happening?”
* * *
Indirk was locked inside of her own mind, watching panic pull her body through the night. It felt almost like drunken dancing, the numb rush through her body, a strange awareness of pulse and bone, the strain of her eyes and her lungs, the struggle to control her own limbs. Every part of her mind and body, every sense and fiber and movement, was focused on the next step, on the path ahead, the mad dash. Oh, she sensed everything; she’d heard Edner like she heard the fading of the music, saw every shadow, heard the rattling that followed behind her and went ahead of her.
And she still felt the heat in her body, practically saw the glow of fire under her skin when her frantic arms swung in front of her. If Norgash appeared in front of her now, Indirk might have run to the woman without thought, so alive was the image of the woman’s body in Indirk’s panicked mind. That on its own was almost as terrifying as the rattling, some seed of mad need that Indirk couldn’t shake.
There was a building in her way. Indirk went into it, shouldering through the heavy door without slowing. It had been locked, heavy wood, and she felt a horrible shock run through her skull and spine and arms like she’d broken something, but she didn’t care. Briefly, she perceived the interior, the lamplight, simple furnishings of patterned rugs, wooden table and chairs, someone standing in the middle of the room. Indirk knocked a chair aside, threw the person out of her way, hurried on to a window that she crashed through and then continued on into the night.
She heard someone shouting behind her. She heard the rattling pique, heard a man’s pained wail, and she actually paused to look behind her. She didn’t see the serpent she’d expected to find. But she did see the broken window, the lit room she’d crashed through, and a man’s flayed body thrown into the road by some power greater than her own.
Indirk shouldn’t have stopped. The rattling sound was above her again. She looked up and saw some shadowed darkness moving, but it didn’t fall. The rattling was all around. There was movement in every direction, something circling too fast, moving from building to building, down in front of her in one moment and behind her the next. Indirk spun, holding fast to her pistol. She put a hand on her satchel, some instinct telling her to protect Avie inside of it.
There was suddenly another song, something that pushed against the rattling. It was low, quiet, insistent, just a dull hum but so powerful in its casual hush. Indirk turned toward it and was stunned to find herself staring at a woman wearing a wooden mask in the shape of a strange, unidentifiable skull. Inside the mask were eyes, and inside the eyes was a distant flick of yellow magic.
The Writhewife said, “Indirk Calloway.”
“No.” Indirk recoiled, fear seizing her lungs and making her hiss. “Stay away from me.”
Shaking her head, the Writhewife walked toward Indirk with neither hurry nor hesitation.
“No!” Indirk lifted her pistol, aimed at the skull, and pulled the trigger. The chamber clicked, but there were no bullets left. Indirk still pulled the trigger a few more times.
From beneath the Writhewife’s gray cotton cloak, a pale hand lifted and took hold of Indirk’s wrist. From beneath the cotton sleeve, some dark tendril emerged, encircling Indirk’s arm three times. It was slick and cold, a firm grip that did not quite squeeze even as Indirk pulled away. The Writhewife said, “Gray Watch is my dear. It is my great love. And you are part of it.”
Indirk pulled the trigger twice more. She heard the Writhewife’s words, but did not hear them for a few seconds, spending that time pulling away and huffing in fear and anger. The Writhewife had strength exceeding a carnivate, empowered by whatever presence rode upon and within her body, whatever being that tendril belonged to. Eventually, Indirk managed to hiss, “What do you want?”
The rattling moved, but seemed more distant.
The Writhewife pulled Indirk hard then, almost tugging the woman off her feet, but instead dragging her toward the darkness. “Let me protect you.”
* * *
Under the firelight of the Sickle-Sough festival, a rough voice said, “Edner.” And the fearful alpin spun to see a Watch Officer in a great, polished helm shaped like a seabird’s head, armor and green vestments splattered with red gore. The officer held his sword low in one hand, the blade still dripping with whatever violence it had committed. “Party’s over. Gather for a debrief. Tell Nymir if you see him.”
“Ah. Ah.” All Edner saw was the carnage, grabbing at his own collar to try to breathe. “You too? Why is everyone covered in blood?”
“Everyone?” Phaeduin came nearer. “Something else has happened. Tell me.”
