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Correspondence of Thieves - by Daniel Todd
Chapter 20
pitch blackness. A twist and a turn later I saw moonlight again, and was
swept away by the current as the water dumped out into the open air, and
into the river. I did not fall, though. I twisted around so that I could grab the
rim of the pipe at the last moment and instead of dropping down, used my
momentum to spin myself body over hands, and landed from the flip on top of
the pipe, feeling like my wrists were just twisted like the lid of a jar. I ran
along the top of the pipe the short distance to the stone wall of the riverbank,
leaping up just high enough to grab onto the top. I then hoisted myself up and
over the iron rail, and was back in the streets.
They were still coming though, I knew it. What was worse, I saw
mongbats and fae circling overhead, ready to spiral down at any moment for
the grab. I sprinted for an alley which opened up onto the river road, only to
hear the beat of wings crystal clear as they swooped in after me. I sensed
with alarm something lunging for me, feeling the wind from its wings on the
skin of my back, knowing in my mind that a creature wanted its prey alive,
and would be reaching with its claws and not its fangs. I spun around, lashing
with my dagger, slicing deep against the open palms which sought to grasp
my shoulders, sending the mongbat screaming away.
I reached the end of the alley, and turned into the next street, only to see
four of the fae touch down before me, their wings folding up at their backs,
their long faces that resembled barkless sticks glaring at me with two rows of
eyes that opened down their cheeks. Then one jerked violently, and had an
arrowhead poking out of his face. The other three turned sharply to see why
their friend had fallen down, and another had an arrowhead through the
neck. I rushed at the one closest to me, jumping up, slashing with my dagger
to cut off its wings, which tore like brittle paper under my blade. It chattered
in agony as I rushed past the last one, jagged sword swinging but missing.
Ghost, my sharp-shooter, was aiming his bow for a third time.
When he let it fly, I didn’t hear the chatter of a fae in pain, but the howl of
a mongbat. I glanced over my shoulder to see at least a half dozen of the hairy
creatures bearing down on me, with more fae circling in the air, and in the
distance, howling from a rooftop, a sight that sent cold shivers straight
through me; a jacknall.
As I ran past him Ghost took my arm, saying, “I know where we can go!”
before charging at full sprint down the street.
“We can’t shake them, and we can’t fight them all off! Where the hell are
we supposed to go?” I yelled.
“Here!” he shouted, before leaping over a tall wall in a single bound. I was
right behind him, sailing over the wall, hitting the ground with a roll before
nearly hitting my head on something stone and mossy. It was a gravestone.
I got up as fast I could and shouting “Ghost, if the curse is broken, you
can’t get zombies to fight them off! Besides, by the time they raise those
beasts will be done with us!”
“No, no, no!” he said, getting up himself before resuming his sprint. “Come
on!”
He ran at the door to the church, ramming it with his shoulder, causing
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copyright © 2010 Daniel E Todd