Creatures of Snow (23 page)

She saw nothing that would
classify as ‘strange’. “No.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him
up the sidewalk. “Walk, don’t run.” She didn’t take him for such a
baby. “There is a law man out at the transport stop, okay. If you
don’t want to fight, then we can try to make it there.”

She couldn’t even see the thuggers anymore,
which wasn’t a good sign.

“I have a bad feeling,
Sara…” Sky stopped in his tracks. “Run!” He shouted and shoved her
hard in the back.

Sara stumbled a few steps
and wheeled around to see a grubby looking man falling to the
ground – and judging by the red welt growing across his face, Sky
must have landed the first hit. She reached out to grab Sky’s arm
again, but she was pushed back, this time by the three thuggers
that suddenly surrounded him. Two of the three were thrown back
immediately and the third met a solid fist in the ribs followed by
a sweeping kick that knocked his legs out from under
him.

“I said run!” Sky screamed
as all three of their attackers rose up like they were pulled by
invisible strings.

Sara instinctively stepped
back. Run? She shook her head, trying to clear it. No, she didn’t
run. Sara lunged forward, the large female thugger in her sights,
but before she could connect Sky wrapped an arm around her waist
and drove her back so fast she felt her feet leave the
ground.

“We can’t win, we have to
run.” His eyes were wild with fear.

“What are you talking
about? We can totally beat these guys.” She shifted her weight to
stop their forward momentum.

“
I can’t explain it right
now, these guys aren’t normal, I know it.”

A dirt covered hand
clamped around his face and pulled him away from her before she
could respond. The three of them were on top of him in an instant,
but flew off just as fast.

She stood still. Those
creeps weren’t a threat. Sky was tearing through them like paper,
but he kept looking behind him like he was expecting
more.

Sara stepped back, an odd
feeling seized her. It was like she wasn’t even there. The thuggers
would attack, get knocked down, and get back up again. There was no
reaction from them - their faces were blank and lifeless. At one
point the female flew back far enough that she landed at Sara’s
feet. The woman didn’t even give Sara a glance. All three of them –
their only focus was Sky.

Sara’s breath caught in
her throat as the shortest of them drove a small blade into Sky’s
side. “Stop!” She screamed.

Sky kicked the man back
and pulled out the knife. “Please, Sara.” Sky paid no attention to
the scum at his feet, his attention kept being pulled behind him,
towards a darkened alley. “Run away.”

“Shut up!” She kicked at
the gritty, soot covered bums that were trying to clamor back to
their feet. She pulled Sky over them and began to run. “Follow me,”
She bellowed over the wind rushing past her ears.

Sky didn’t lose a step,
which she found amazing considering he had just had a rusty shiv
stuck in his side. He kept looking over his shoulder, but when she
looked back, there was nothing there.

“What is it, Sky? What’s
back there?”

He didn’t answer her - he
just ran faster.

She could hear crashes and
bangs behind them, but she didn’t dare to look. “It’s not much
farther.” She yelled. If they could get to the transport stop, the
officer there could help them, even thuggers feared the government
authority.

Sky stumbled and went
down, taking her partially with him. His pale face was shining with
sweat. “Stop.” He whispered. “It’s too late.”

“Get up!” She grasped at
him, trying to pull him to his feet. “Fine.” She stepped away from
him, ready to face their attackers head on by herself.

“
Don’t hurt them anymore.”
Sky got up slowly, his eyes tracking something she couldn’t see.
“They’re just a diversion, they’re being controlled.”

“Controlled by what?” She
shook off the chill running up her arms, “They were trying to kill
you Sky.”

“
They won’t kill me. He’s
just playing with us right now.”

“Who is? Is this a test?
Is this a set up by Con? Or Roland?” She really wouldn’t put it
past either of them. “This isn’t funny!”

“He’s after you Sara, but
he won’t hurt you, he needs you.” His head tilted to the side, like
he was reading something that wasn’t quite straight. “You can’t see
him, can you? Because you can’t see illusion…” He continued to
stare into the shadows of the street, his voice had turned into a
whisper.

“What do you see?” There
was something in the air, a heavy energy she couldn’t quite
explain…and she was afraid. It was Sky’s fault. The way he stood
there with his arms dangling loosely and a far off look on his
face. One side of his yellow sweatshirt was already soaked in
blood, but he hadn’t even acknowledged that he had been stabbed.
“You’re creeping me out.”

“
Sara,” He started, his
attention unwavering from the shadows, “how do you beat something
that isn’t real?”

She looked over her shoulder, it really
wasn’t that far, just one more block and they would be home
free.

“I won’t let you!” Sky
shouted to the air around them.

She grabbed for his hand
again, but stopped before she reached it. The boy standing there
wasn’t the same cowering mess she had seen just a moment ago. No,
this boy she was afraid to touch. She could almost feel the rage
radiating from him and the fierce determination of his stare made
her back up a step. “Skyden.” But she knew he wasn’t anywhere she
could reach.

There was no way she would
find the castor of the illusion, but from what she knew of it, all
Sky would have to do to stop it was close his eyes.

Without another thought,
she leapt on Sky and covered his eyes with her hands. “Push me off
and I’ll snap your neck!” She gripped his head as tight as she
dared. “Now run, and don’t open your eyes, I’ll guide you.” She
pulled him forward, away from the shadows. One block. That’s all
they needed to run, just one block.

Chapter Eighteen

Al had said his goodbye to
Lee just before the gate, not wanting to chance any stragglers in
the courtyard seeing a stranger so close to the compound. Lee had
still been hesitant to let him go, telling him he sensed some
discord and hostility within the estate walls.

“That’s just sort of the
normal.” He had told him. It wasn’t an exaggeration, but the simple
truth. Although working under the same flag for the same goal, the
men and woman that made up the Taul, were from every spectrum of
morals and beliefs. Some were ex-military, like his father; some
were retired assassins like the second in command, Sonya. Most had
come from various militia’s and freedom fighter groups that had
been disbanded or destroyed. It amazed Al that they were able to
function together at all, but when it came down to it, no matter
what their differences or conflicts with one another, when it came
to fighting under his father to carry out the will of their leader,
Octavian, they fought as one.

He paused just outside the
gate, the chill of the night air was bordering on uncomfortable as
it swept lightly across the empty street. He waited till the faint
footsteps of Lee faded into silence before holding his hand up to
the black iron of the gate, and hesitated opening it. It was
actually becoming somewhat of a ritual lately: Every time he came
home he found himself hesitating just outside the door.

A wash of sadness
threatened at the edges of his mind and he knew exactly what it
was. He wondered if he really could find her…but no, that wasn’t
really plausible. His mother. She would never be found unless she
wanted him to find her, plain and simple. He pulled on the cold
metal and let the night hear the bellow of its protest as he
wrenched it open.

Al strode inside, and was
taken back by the unusual amount of people lingering in the
courtyard. Generally, there would be one or two keeping watch, but
tonight there seemed to be four times as many. To let them see his
concern would be to show them weakness, so he lifted his chin,
readjusted his bag on his shoulder, and proceeded with a back as
straight as Lee’s.

His heart dropped a bit
and his steps became more measured the closer he got to the front
entrance. There were way too many of them just to be a casual
gathering, and the way they stirred to life with his approach was
probably not a good sign. The tension strung itself tight in a
matter of seconds, but he kept his path and eyes straight
ahead. 

"You're late." A deep
voice grumbled.

He couldn't place it off hand, but as long
as it wasn't his father’s he didn't care. That is, he didn’t care
until a rough hand clamped around his arm and whipped him
around. His eyes took a moment to focus and his voice caught in his
developing dread. 

"Did you hear me?" the voice and hand
belonged to Illean, his father’s self appointed right-hand man.
"Let's get one thing straight, pipsqueak. This may be your house,
but it's our home. You may not think the rules apply to you but
you're wrong." Illean breathed every word onto him like it was a
curse. "Your misbehavior reflects badly on your father and what
reflects badly upon him is passed right down to us. This army needs
to thrive and it can't do that if even one of us falters. Those
faults will make the foundation crumble."

Al stood as tall as he
could and gave his best smile, "Well, my large friend, as much as I
appreciate your attempt at a somewhat rough analogy, I should
mention that if being a few hours late means the destruction of
your foundation, then I would put a little more investment into the
type of land you're building on."

Illean stood with a
confounded look for a moment. It was the perfect opportunity to
escape as the large oaf was processing his words.

He had only attempted a few steps towards
the door before he heard one of the other muscle heads start to
call out, but if the noise had formed words he missed it since all
sound became silence the instant Illean’s fist slammed into the
small of his back. His knees buckled and he stumbled. He quickly
thanked the Havens for his backpack which he was able to use as a
counter weight to stay on his feet.

"You can't hit me," he
started, still in shock.

His answer was an elbow to the face.

"He's so little I don't even know how to
fight him." The words came between a fit of jolly laughter which
was matched with a chorus of roaring amusement that rose up from
the small crowd.

Al hit the dirt this time.
Pain radiated from the center of his face and the warm gush that
accompanied it. He got a leg under him and tried to stand only to
be pushed back down. It took every ounce of self restraint he had
to not fight back - his punishment for damaging any of his father’s
men, would be much worse than any beating those minions could
deliver.

"Who would have thought the General would
have such a pansy for a kid." One of them chided. "He must get that
from his mother."

Al sucked in his breath and held it. He
forced himself to stand, tensing for the next attack. The whole
situation reeked of his fathers meddling. This had to be some sort
of twisted intervention.

A foot kicked at the back
of his knee and he found his hands back on the ground once again.
Illean stood in front of him, pushing him into a sitting position
with a muck encrusted boot.

"No," he said as a long, thin
smile spread itself over his pock-marked face. "Telics
aren’t weak," he knelt down and let his cold eyes stare straight
into Al's. "They're just cowards."

The heat of anger spread
into his veins, but he fought it back. Illean saw it, as if he
could smell anger like an animal could smell fear.

A few of the others had begun backing away
at the mentioning of Telics, but Illean leaned in closer. "Yes, I
know all about your tainted blood."

The rest of the crowd backed off quickly as
he rose to his feet. "I think he's learned his lesson. Let's get
out of here." One of the goons said with a touch of nervousness to
his voice.

What were once just rumors of his heritage
were now fact in the eyes of all that stood around him.

The air around them
shifted from a menacing one to one of fear and unease as he rose
slowly to his feet, his glare locked onto Illeans.

"I disagree," Illean snarled. "I don't think
he's heard a word we've said," He cocked his head to the side, "He
can't hear us through his perfect, little, chattering teeth."

Al turned away from him,
the crowd parted and he marched once again towards the front
door.

"You see? His first instinct is still to run
away from a challenge...just like his mother."

Al turned, his vision shifting into the eyes
of a Telic. The colors of the world around him became rich and deep
as light illuminated life and the strings of energy that flowed and
twisted around him became a tangible river of control.

“
You need to learn some
respect.” Illean shouted, swinging his fist once again at Al’s
face.

It was more reflex than
intention that he dodged, and more instinct than spite that his arm
lashed out and landed a hit square in the center of Illean’s guts.
With his Telic energy left unchecked and flowing freely, the small
hit sent Illean flying back into the arms of his
cronies.