Barb Hendee - In Shade and Shadow

Two patrolling men in red surcoats stepped out from the intersection's left side.

Wynn quickly scurried over against a shop's front wall. She held her breath beneath the awning's deeper night shadows.

She'd seen only two of Rodian's men when she'd slipped out of the keep. It never occurred to her that he would've put even more on patrol around the whole grounds along the loop of the Old Bailey Road. She listened as their boots clomped slowly along.

How was she going to reach the gate, let alone get past the pair stationed before the gatehouse? How many guards had Rodian sent out here?

She'd been gone only a short while, but if she didn't hurry back, someone might miss her—especially if il'Sänke turned up at her room. She had certainly badgered him enough about learning to use the staff.

Wynn swallowed hard.

If she were caught outside, in defiance of Premin Sykion's mandate, it would most certainly weigh against her. It might even cost her access to the translations.

Wynn crept along the shops and peeked around the corner.

The guards were still too close to the intersection for her to slip past behind them. Her hand clenched the staff, and she turned back down Leaful Street.

With a frustrated exhale, she cut into the next street paralleling the southeast side of Old Bailey Road. She stuck close to the buildings until she spotted a narrow walkway that would take her back to the loop around the keep. When she ducked in, she could just make out the alley's far end. Beyond, she spotted part of the wall across Old Bailey Road. She needed a vantage point farther behind the patrolling guards to check for any others circuiting the guild. And as yet, she still had no idea how to get past the two at the gatehouse.

Wynn padded along the narrow space and suddenly came upon a widened area midway. It opened on her left, and for an instant the change confused her in the dark.

A quick staccato of scratches filled the space. Wynn backed against the alley's opposing wall.

Digging in her pocket, she was already scanning the dark area as she pulled out her crystal. Light washed over a wide alcove behind the building.

Tall, narrow barrels and a few crates were stacked around three worn wooden steps leading to a rear door. A tawny rat darted across the alcove's floor stones into hiding beneath those stairs.

Wynn took several slow breaths. Her nerves were so on edge that now she was startled by vermin. Wouldn't that have given Leesil something to gibe her about, after all the dangers they'd faced in their journeys?

Fearful of revealing her presence, she stuffed the crystal back in her pocket and turned toward the alley's far end.

There was only darkness ahead. No faintly lighter space showed where the alley opened into Old Bailey Road. Only impossibly deep black filled the narrow alley.

Wynn backed up.

The dark began moving. Flowing up the alley, it seemed to eat what little light came from the street beyond. Chane turned down the street's gradual arc. He knew he should stay away from Wynn for her own good. Yet she had asked him questions laced with eagerness for his help, and hints concerning her life at the guild left him wondering.

Was she lonely among her own kind? Enough that even the sight of a familiar monster was welcome? Or was it just that he wished it so? He could not let himself wallow in false hopes, and he headed off toward the Graylands Empire and his small attic room.

The beast inside him rumbled in agitation.

Chane's fingernails instinctively hardened as he halted. He spun sharply around in the empty street. Barely an itch inside him, but still, something pulled at the edge of his awareness.

s" w, bSince entering this city he had taken to wearing Welstiel's ring of nothing at all times. The longer he wore it, the duller his awareness became. But he felt something wrong, something that made the feral beast within him rise in warning.

Chane looked down the dark street as his senses fully widened—and panic crept in.

After his botched attempt to seize the folio, that black figure, so physical to his eyes and yet not, had fixed upon Wynn. If it still watched for her, and she now carried the scroll from the same source as the texts…

He had been so relieved at her acceptance of him, that he had not thought of the further danger in which he had placed her. He had not even thought to trail her home in secret.

"Fool!" Chane hissed at himself, and bolted back up the street.

Blackness vanished suddenly from the alley.

Wynn saw the dim outline of the exit reappear. Still, she took another step back.

Had she seen that pure darkness at all? Or had she grown so paranoid that her mind played upon her fears?

Down the alley she clearly saw the tall bailey wall and the keep's southern tower above it. Both remained plainly visible. In a slow, angry breath, she gripped the staff with both hands.

"So… paranoid it is," she grumbled to herself and stepped forward.

Reaching the alley's far end, she carefully peeked around the left side.

The guild's southern corner hid the front gate and gatehouse from sight, but she didn't spy any patrolling guards. A quick glance right found that way empty as well. Wynn stepped out, prepared to dash for the wall and follow it around to the castle's front.

A black column stood twenty paces off in the middle of the road.

Pieces of it began to waft, like night-colored sails unfurling under a rising breeze.

Wynn glanced quickly up at the keep's southern tower.

As during her escape, all its windowed archer's slits were dark. No one was there to see her. When her gaze dropped she lurched backward.

The figure stood no more than five paces off.

Folds of its heavy black cowl sagged across its cloak's shoulders. And the cloak's layers over its long black robe floated on a wind that touched nothing else in sight. Wynn gripped the staff in both hands, glancing frantically about.

She wasn't skilled enough with the staff's crystal for this rushed moment—she wasn't really skilled with it at all. She couldn't outrun this thing in the open, but fleeing into the alley was foolish. All the murdered sages had been caught and trapped in tight spaces. As much as her own safety or life, she didn't want the scroll to fall into this thing's possession.

Should she scream out, call to any guards who might hear?

Wynn whirled to run the other way, hoping to catch the patrol she'd evaded, and a chill wind swirled up around her. It tore at her cloak and robe until her hood ripped back and her hair whipped across her face. She slapped the tendrils out of her eyes.

There it was again.

The black figure loomed in front of her. She stumbled back and it rushed her. A hand wrapped in shreds of black cloth reached out.

Wynn twisted away in the only direction it hadn't appeared. She ran straight into the alley.

Her robe's skirt slapped against her legs. Any instant she expected to see the figure appear before her, but she didn't look back. She reached the alley's far end, skidded into the next open street, and wildly searched for anyplace to hide.

No open inns or eateries lay in sight with any lighted windows or people about, just dark buildings, one with storage bins out front and marked with the sign of a dry-goods shop. She looked back to the alley.

Darkness rolled toward her, swallowing any scant light upon the brick walls. The figure slid into the open without the sound of a footfall.

Wynn choked once as the air turned frigid around her. Sucking in a freezing breath, she retreated toward the street's far side. As numbing cold spread through her, a savage howl erupted along the street. Wynn turned her head as a dark form rushed forward.

A charcoal-colored wolf wove and twisted, snarling before the robed figure. Its ears flattened as its jowls pulled back, exposing fangs and teeth glistening with spittle.