Shifters of Caerton: Boxset
Author: H.B. Lyne
Date: 2019-08-26 04:00:00+00:00
Description: Who do you trust when nothing is as it seems?Ariana is an ambitious and competitive martial artist trying to figure out relationships, career and where she belongs in the city of Caerton.Ariana soon finds out when she discovers that she's a shapeshifter.Now her job is to protect humanity from the demons and secret chaos worshipper that threaten to destroy her world.But who can she trust when the lone cultist could be anyone?For the first time in one complete omnibus, Shifters of Caerton is a dark urban fantasy thriller that will intrigue you and twist your world upside down.Who is hiding the d
Rights: All rights reserved (#2924765160222325)

Contents

Dark Echoes

Copyright

From the Ashes

Dark Echoes

The Storm Riders' Vigil

About the Author

Echoes of the Past

Dark Echoes

Tales from the Shadows

By

H. B. Lyne

Published in 2016

Copyright © H. B. Lyne 2016

H.B. Lyne asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

1

All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

From The Ashes

1

The boy was dead weight on Father Ash's arm. Boy. He was in his thirties with two children of his own, but he was still a boy to Father Ash. He raised his hand to knock on the black door, but before his knuckles touched the shining new paint, the door was flung wide. Flames-First-Guardian filled the doorway, his face as unreadable as ever. He held the door wide, and stood back for Father Ash to drag the limp body inside. The hall was dark but a light was on in the kitchen, and Father Ash made straight for it.

'Thanks for doing this,' he said softly over his burdened shoulder. Flames shut the door and followed down the hall.

'Is he...?'

'Unconscious,' Father Ash replied hastily. He dropped the boy into a chair, and let his head fall forward and thump onto the table. Flames approached, and peered closely at the unshaven face.

'Drugged?'

'Yes, I thought that was best.'

'Are you absolutely certain?'

'Yes,' Father Ash replied, his shoulders sinking. Suddenly the gravity of the situation seemed overwhelming. 'His name has changed.'

'His name changed?'

Father Ash nodded wearily.

'Spirals-of-Bright-Agony.'

Flames looked at him, his eyes narrowed. He swept out of the room, and returned a moment later with his tattoo kit. Father Ash caught his wrist and glared at him, his ancient eyes boring into his best friend's.

'I have to, you know that,' Flames said, his voice soft and kind. Father Ash grudgingly released Flames' arm. He watched, his mind racing, trying to formulate a plan, as Flames tattooed a rough spiral on the back of the boy's neck. He ran his hand over his neat, grey beard and took a shaking breath. 'Do you still want to store his soul?' Flames asked tentatively.

'Yes,' he replied without hesitation.

'There are candles in that drawer.' Flames jerked his head towards one of the kitchen units. Father Ash went to it, and scooped out a handful of thick, black candles. He placed them around the kitchen, then lit them, his hands shaking. The buzzing of the tattoo needle stopped, drawing Father Ash's attention. The boy stirred slightly as Flames moved away from him. Father Ash went to him and looked down. How had this happened? The choice that lay ahead of him now was excruciating, it was no choice really. He was a Hunter, and the boy was Spiral Hand, with a glowing name on his spirit for anyone who could read it, which was probably every other alpha in Caerton. Not to mention the fact that he had gone completely insane. He couldn't be hidden, he would have to be killed, and it was his job to do it.

Flames placed a brass dish full of incense on the table in front of the boy, and the gentle smoke filled the air quickly. Father Ash stepped back to the door into the hallway, anxious not to become intoxicated. Flames placed a rectangular canvas on a frame on the table, and some oil paints, his movements quick and precise, well-practised. Father Ash realised that his friend was holding his breath. When everything was set up, Flames retreated to the doorway and placed an arm around Father Ash's shoulders. He stiffened at the awkward gesture. Affection had never been natural for either of them. Flames removed his arm and cleared his throat.

The boy stirred again and this time his eyes fluttered open. They were red and dilated, and watered profusely when he blinked. He began to sit up, looking around at his surroundings. His gaze settled on the two odd shifters in the doorway.

'Father?' he croaked.

'I'm here,' Father Ash replied and took a step forward. Flames thrust his arm across his chest and stopped him. Father Ash glanced at him, frustration leaping into his throat in the form of a low growl.

'The incense, it'll put him into a trance. You don't want to get too close.'

Spirals-of-Bright-Agony stared across the room, his eyes glazed and unfocused. He turned to look at the blank canvas in front of him and slowly lifted his hand to pick up the brush. He gently dipped it into some red paint, and pressed it to the canvas. Very slowly, he began to make marks, first in red, then green and yellow. Circles at first, and then spirals. His pace began to increase, he used his fingers as well as the brush, smudging and blurring the colours.

Father Ash watched in awe. He thought, just for an instant, that he could see energy passing from Spirals' body into the painting, rather like heat haze. He worked in a frenzy, paint splattered his clothes and smeared on his face from him wiping his hands across it. Sweat beaded on his forehead and neck, and he muttered continuously under his breath. Father Ash had never seen him like this, it was deeply unsettling, and he struggled to stay back.

The boy tossed the brush down and slumped back in the chair. Flames moved forwards and scooped up the incense. He took it to the sink and ran water over it to snuff out the burning embers. Father Ash dashed to the boy and checked him over. He was staring down at the table, his face unrecognisable under the paint and strange, sour expression.

Father Ash glanced at the painting. It was a cacophony of colour and dizzying spirals. Just one brief glance was enough to make his head spin. He roughly hoisted the boy up out of the chair and marched him to the back door. Flames opened it and they filed out into the back garden. The sky was black and pricked with stars, but even the small garden with its high walls was not private enough for what must be done. Father Ash stepped across the veil, willing himself and his prisoner into the shifter realm of Hepethia. The world lurched and spun around them, when it came back into focus the garden looked much the same, it had brick walls and the ground was completely paved. The sky above was a rich, velvety purple and there were so many stars that it was almost possible to make out the galaxy around them.

He shoved the boy into the centre of the garden, and he stumbled. Father Ash wiped his sweating palms on his crisp, grey trousers, and then reached over his shoulder to grasp the axe on his back. It was hidden in the world of humans, blended to his body to hide it from human eyes, but in Hepethia it regained its physical form. He slid it from its sheath, and gripped the hilt.

'Why?' he moaned, more to himself than anyone else.

Flames stepped across the veil, and stood silently by the door into the house.

'Father?' the boy whimpered, looking up at him. He really wasn't a boy, he hadn't been for a long time. Father Ash sniffed hard, and angrily swiped a tear from his cheek. He lifted his chest and took a deep breath.

'Michael,' Father Ash replied. He hadn't used that name for the boy in over twenty years, it was the human name given to him by his mother.

'Are you going to kill me, Father?' The boy straightened up and smirked, no longer a simpering wretch.

'You know I have to,' Father Ash replied.

'No,' his son replied nonchalantly. 'You have a choice. We could leave the city together.'

Father Ash allowed a small smile to creep onto his lips.

'Slips-Through-Starlight, now known as Spirals-of-Bright-Agony, you have been found to be a member of the Spiral Hand. You know the sentence. Do you have any last words?'

A raven cawed overhead and landed lightly on the wall. It bobbed its head and watched over the proceedings. Father Ash acknowledged its presence with a slight nod, but didn't allow himself to be distracted.

'Everything I am today, I owe to you, Father.' He smirked again and took a lazy step towards him. 'Whatever you do tonight, execute me, or let me go, it will be sowing chaos and fear, it will be doing the work of the Spiral Hand.'

Father Ash cast a cautious eye towards Flames-First-Guardian, who wore a grim expression.

'Kneel,' he barked, pointing to the ground in front of him. Spirals-of-Bright-Agony's smirk vanished and he flinched.

Flames took a step towards them. Father Ash held up his hand to stop him. He didn't think restraint was necessary just yet. The boy's face was frozen, there was fear in his eyes. He had really thought Father Ash would let him go, but he couldn't do that. Whatever else he was, he was a Hunter. 'Kneel,' he said again.

Flames moved forward, and with a wave of his hand a large crystal erupted from the ground, bursting up from between the paving slabs. Father Ash grabbed Spirals roughly by the neck of his jacket and shoved him to his knees.

'You can't actually be serious?' the boy cried, his frightened eyes imploring. Flames stepped closer and pushed Spirals down against the crystal. 'Father?!'

Father Ash raised the axe. He looked at his son's terrified face and faltered. Lightning flashed overhead, and he looked up to see thick clouds spiralling and obscuring the beautiful stars. 'Tell Maisie to be strong when she changes,' Spirals blurted out, his voice distorted by his cheek pressing against the crystal. 'She's just a kid.' His voice fell quiet, mournful.

Father Ash let his axe drop to his side, and he knelt down beside his son.

'I will. I really don't have a choice in this. You know that.'

Spirals acknowledged him by closing his eyes for a moment. Father Ash stood and raised his axe again, it felt so heavy, despite his supernatural strength. He sucked back a sob that threatened to escape, and heaved a sigh of resolve. 'I return you to the tender arms of Artemis.' He swung the axe down, hitting his mark cleanly. There was a sickening thunk as the head hit the ground. He wiped his axe on the back of Spirals' jacket and sheathed it on his back.

'Are you all right?' Flames asked cautiously.

'Fine,' he replied stiffly. 'We should bury him.'

Flames knelt on the ground and placed his hands on the paving. The ground opened up in front of him, slabs disappeared, the crystal sank back into the earth, and Spirals' body dropped with it to the ground. Father Ash closed his eyes. Too much confusion cluttered his mind, grief and rage warred within him. When he opened his eyes, there was a hole in the middle of the garden with a wooden box inside. Without a word, he and Flames gently lifted the body into the grave. He carefully retrieved the head and placed it respectfully in the centre of his son's chest.

'I can protect his bones here,' Flames said quietly. The raven on the wall cawed again and took flight. Father Ash watched it go, knowing that it would report back to the others. He swallowed against a painful lump in his throat. They closed the coffin, and buried it by hand, only shaping Hepethia for the final touches, to conceal the grave. They left a square of earth uncovered and repaired the paving around it.

They crossed the veil and went into the kitchen. Flames poured them both a shot of whiskey and they toasted silently. Father Ash noticed a box on the table where the painting had been. 'Don't open it,' Flames said sharply.

'Why?'

'It absorbed his madness, nothing else.'

Father Ash nodded solemnly.

'Okay. I'll have to go before the others, I don't know what their judgement will be. Will you look after it for me, please?'

'Of course.'

Father Ash finished his drink and put the glass down on the worktop. He looked down and saw that his neat suit was covered in blood and dirt. He sighed.

'Thank you, for everything.'

'No problem. Good luck with the elders.'

Father Ash snorted and strode down the hall. As he reached the door he shifted form, his human limbs and body shrank away, his clothes disappeared and were replaced with fur. In place of the distinguished man was a grey cat, and he rubbed himself against the door. Flames opened it for him, and he trotted out without a backward glance.

2

'I wondered when I would see you two,' Father Ash said, casually opening his front door wide and striding away from it to put his coffee cup down on the table in the centre of the grand foyer. His shoes clipped on the marble floor and echoed around the cavernous space. The two visitors entered slowly and he could sense their apprehension. He smirked and went to the closet at the back of the hall to retrieve a jacket. As he slid it on, he turned to look at the awkward-looking shifters at the door. He sighed. 'I'm coming willingly, as you can see. First Strike, you know me, I'm not going to try anything.'

'I know, Alpha,' First Strike replied, shifting his weight. He was six feet five inches of sheer muscle, one of Odin's fiercest warriors, and a most valued member of Father Ash's own pack, The Hand of God. Mjolnir beside him held a hand out, indicating for Father Ash to leave the manor ahead of them. He was a similar build to First Strike, with long hair and beard that he braided. Another of Odin's Warriors, more muscle.

Father Ash nodded and strode out through the door. There was a sleek black car waiting at the bottom of the grand steps, and he went to it. First Strike locked the house, and Mjolnir jogged quickly down the steps and opened the back door of the car before Father Ash could. He was always a gentleman, but Father Ash had seen him in combat and knew that a deadly fighter was concealed behind that gentle demeanour.

It was a crisp winter morning, the sky was blue. The car sped away from Fenstoke Lodge. Father Ash watched his home out of the window, knowing he may never see it again.

Mjolnir drove the car, First Strike sat in the back beside his Alpha, neither speaking nor even looking at each other. The elders had sent two of the strongest shifters in Caerton to escort him, but it was a token gesture, if they had really believed him to be a flight risk, they would have sent six.

They arrived in Old Town, territory of The Watch. The car pulled up at the back of the city museum, the three of them got out, and Father Ash straightened his shirt and jacket. First Strike and Mjolnir flanked him and they filed into the back entrance of the museum. It was usually fairly quiet mid-week, but Father Ash could hear people bustling about somewhere beyond the back passageway that they entered. Mjolnir led the way to a staircase leading down into the belly of one of Caerton's oldest buildings.

Half way down the dark staircase, he felt the veil ripple, and was forced across it in Mjolnir's wake. The stairs ended abruptly and the light was blinding. It took several seconds for his eyesight to adjust. He had been here a dozen times before, but never on the receiving end of judgement. It was a courtroom unlike any in the human world. The floor was smooth, clear quartz, the walls dazzling white, and blazing sunlight filled the space, even though there was a solid roof overhead. Stone benches lined the room on all sides and straight ahead of the stone steps from which they had entered was a dais with a crystalline judge's bench, long enough for six people to sit behind.

Many of Caerton's shifters were gathered on the benches, chattering earnestly amongst themselves. He caught sight of the rest of his pack, gathered together to the right of the dais. Crimson was enigmatic, her lips were pursed and her eyes narrowed as she watched him. Sentinel-of-the-Steps sat beside her whispering frantically, but she didn't react to anything her pack mate said. The others watched Father Ash silently. If he didn't come out of this with an acquittal, it would very likely be Crimson that would take his place as Alpha of The Hand of God. First Strike gave him a pat on the back and they exchanged grave looks, then his pack mate left him in the centre of the court to join the rest of their pack. Mjolnir remained by his side.

His fellow elders sat behind the bench. Follows-the-Rain sat in the centre, her watery grey eyes looked tired. Either side of her were Theodore Harris and Red Scythe, both looking serious and determined. Ragged Edge sat beside his brother-in-arms, his grizzled old face betrayed him, Father Ash could tell he would rather be anywhere else. On the opposite end, an empty seat between him and Theodore, was Fortune, sat with his elbows on the bench and his hands over his eyes.

The empty seat would be his, if this were any other trial. He had long thought that he ought to sit in Theodore's place, joint centre with Follows-the-Rain. He was older than Theodore, and certainly played a more central role in protecting Caerton, but the tradition was that the Head Hunter could not take a central seat on the judging council.

It was rare that all of the city's elders gathered like this, cooperation had never been their strong suit. Most crimes of their kind were dealt with in-pack. Sometimes it was considered wise for the city's shifters to gather to discuss some imminent threat to all of them. Spiral Hand were not usually granted a trial, it was a Hunt, and execution upon capture was the usual course of action. Once in a blue moon, however, the council gathered here like this, if a case were not clear cut or if the suspect was, as in this case, a member of the council themselves.

Amongst the shifters were dozens of fae and demons, many were allies of the shifters in attendance, but others were eager spectators. Ravens and black birds perched on a beam over the dais, there as messengers of the court, and on a raised crystal seat behind the council of shifters was a figure in a black gown and iron mask, Chief Justicar, a demon of judgement and justice who presided over all matters of supernatural law in Caerton.

Follows-the-Rain banged a gavel on the crystalline bench, the sound echoed around the chamber like a bell.

'Order! Order!' she cried out in her clear voice, and the courtroom fell silent. 'We are gathered here today to determine the guilt, or innocence of the accused. Father Ash, you were accused a month ago, by a member of this court, of membership of the Spiral Hand.'

Father Ash still didn't know who had brought the charges, there was little transparency in shifter justice. He watched the council carefully now, but read nothing in any of their faces. His gut told him it had been Theodore, their rivalry went back decades, but he doubted he would ever have proof. 'You pleaded your innocence, and since then a thorough investigation has been undertaken. I gather that new evidence has come to light in the last twenty-four hours. We will hear it now.'

Father Ash took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was to come. Flames-First-Guardian stood up from his seat to the left of the dais. Fortune finally uncovered his face and watched his pack mate descend the steps. He looked worried, Father Ash noted, his face was pale and clammy. Shadow's Step and Speaks-with-Stone were sat where Flames had risen from, and also watched him nervously. The Blue Moon had always been good to Father Ash, Flames in particular had long been his friend and ally. They were two of a rapidly diminishing pool of Scroll Keepers, Caerton's record keepers, and as such, shared almost all of the information they gathered. They would spend hours together in the Scroll Archive; making notes; recording stories of the deeds of fellow shifters; logging births, deaths and marriages. At times, though he was not a Hunter himself, Flames would assist Father Ash, as he had done the previous night.

Flames strode into the circle and gave Father Ash a reassuring nod before turning to face the council.

'Late last night, the real Spiral Hand was uncovered. Father Ash brought him to me and we executed traditional justice. An envoy of the court bore witness.' He indicated the ravens over the heads of the elders, and they all looked up. One of the ravens bobbed its head and cawed loudly. It ruffled its feathers and a few of them drifted to the floor.

'He speaks the truth,' came a voice out of the croak. A collective gasp rippled around the courtroom, and chatter instantly broke out. Follows-the-Rain banged her gavel again; she had to do so several times before the crowd fell to order.

'Who was it?' Theodore's voice called out over the remaining whispers. Silence fell, and Father Ash could feel all of the held breaths in the room.

'Slips-Through-Starlight,' Flames replied, a slight break in his voice. The courtroom erupted again. Follows-the-Rain turned to Red Scythe, and the two of them whispered to each other, unheard amidst the sea of noise. Father Ash felt his palms sweating, and his collar suddenly felt too tight. He was determined not to show any sign of discomfort, so he forced himself to ignore the sensations. He swallowed the hard lump in his throat, and locked eyes with Theodore, whose eyes were narrowed to slits as he studied Father Ash.

Fortune did not look shocked, Father Ash guessed that Flames had told him in advance what had happened. Perhaps it was Fortune that had informed the others of a turn of events.

'Is this true?' Red Scythe shouted over the din. Grudgingly, the crowd grew quiet, to await Father Ash's reply.

'It is,' he said, his voice holding steady. 'I met with my son last night, and found that his true name had changed. He was no longer Slips-Through-Starlight, his name was Spirals-of-Bright-Agony. He was ranting and raving about Ragnarok, his mind lost to the chaos he served. I sought out a witness and performed my duty.'

'You executed your own son?' Theodore asked, his voice laced with scepticism.

'I did,' Father Ash replied. This time his voice did crack, and he allowed himself to loosen his collar. It wouldn't hurt at this point for the court to see some emotion. There was more outcry around the court. Some of the demons looked positively gleeful at this news. Crimson and the rest of his pack gawked at him. His son had been one of their own, and this was the first they were hearing of both his betrayal and execution. He gave them an apologetic look, but it didn't seem to soothe them.

'Order! Order!' Follows-the-Rain cried out. She was barely maintaining control of this session and everyone knew it. She was old, and although she was still respected, many of the younger shifters had doubts about her sanity. She was Alpha of the Storm Riders, who had long been keeping to themselves up there on the coast, different from the rest of Caerton's shifters. Yet she had sat in the centre of the council of elders for decades and her wisdom and insight were second to none.

'You could have brought him before us, which would have been more compelling. If we could have seen him for ourselves, ascertained the change in his true name and seen his madness, it might have made for a stronger case.' Theodore spoke with his hand to his face, his long index finger caressing his cheek.

'I wasn't thinking of clearing my name,' Father Ash replied. 'I was doing my job. He was my son. What I had to do was incredibly difficult, and I knew that I couldn't waver. It had to be dealt with swiftly. How do I know that had I not killed him, had I kept him alive to bring before you, you wouldn't have held that against me too?'

'With all due respect,' Fortune spoke up, addressing the elders to his left, 'Father Ash's actions speak volumes about his commitment to his role as Hunter. In my view, he has fully exonerated himself.'

'I agree,' said Red Scythe. Father Ash allowed himself to hope.

'I must most strongly object,' Theodore said, shaking his head. 'It's a ruse, and a poor one at that. Even if his son was truly Spiral Hand, he is tainted by association. How do we know he didn't indoctrinate his own son? As far as I am concerned, he is guilty.'

'There's no proof,' Ragged Edge said, an edge of frustration to his voice. 'Only speculation. We have not had one shred of compelling evidence that Father Ash is Spiral Hand, only hearsay and scaremongering.'

Follows-the-Rain listened to her colleagues attentively. Technically, all voices on the council were equal, but everyone knew that it really always came down to her vote. Chief Justicar rose from his seat and floated down onto the gleaming floor. He bobbed across it towards Father Ash, who tried not to flinch as the tentacled demon approached. He set his jaw and waited for what he suspected was coming. The demon stopped two inches from him and snarled in his face. He sniffed hard, sucking in the air between them. He smelled rancid and Father Ash wrinkled his nose and leaned his head away from him. The demon clucked his tongue and slipped away from him, gliding back up to his seat.

'He's guilty of something,' Chief Justicar called out, his voice booming over all of the hushed chatter in the court. 'He reeks of it. But guilty of what, I cannot say.' Father Ash closed his eyes and waited. His chest felt tight and he could feel his pulse pounding in his temples.

'In light of this new evidence and lack of any conclusive proof,' Follows-the-Rain spoke, her voice soft but engaging. Silence fell. 'I cannot rule a guilty verdict.' The room erupted in noise, some cheers, but a lot of objections. Father Ash looked around to try and pick out the friendly and unfriendly reactions, but it was all happening too fast. 'HOWEVER!' The lead elder's voice boomed out. 'Due to the delicate nature of this case, and the genuine ambiguity over the accused's loyalty, I am ordering you into exile, Father Ash, effective immediately. You will not be permitted to return to your pack, you will be accompanied to the city limits, and are forbidden to return within your lifetime. Do you understand?'

The reaction from the assembly was deafening. Father Ash could hear roaring in his ears, like holding a shell to them. He felt panic and devastation clawing at his chest and throat. A lifetime's work and dedication obliterated in an instant. Friends turning their backs on him, enemies smirking down on him.

Thunder rose from within and the beast took control. His body shuddered and instantly transformed into a horrifying Agrius beast; half man, half bear. He roared, and the courtroom chatter descended into chaos and screaming.

He blinked as his senses returned to normal, there was no screaming, he was standing in his smart suit, perfectly calm amid a sea of jumbled voices. He allowed himself that moment to imagine what he would like to do, then took a deep breath and adjusted his jacket.

'I do,' he replied, his voice cool as ice. He turned and headed back towards the stairs, Mjolnir at his side. He didn't spare anyone a parting glance, it was too great a risk. He accepted the judgement with the grace and poise for which he was well known. He knew where to go, he had a plan, he always had a plan.

Dark Echoes

1

Shadow's Step slid between people bustling by, his shoulders twisting this way then that as he glided unseen through the throng. The faintest hint of the scent of one of his kind caught the air and he tilted his head to the sky. He stopped and closed his eyes. The crowd of passing people parted and flowed around him like water around a rock, seeming not to be aware of him.

His eyes flickered open, glowing amber under the eerie orange street lights. A cluster of animated corpses passed him on the left, while a gaggle of doctors and nurses dressed most inappropriately for their professions scurried by on the right. A car moved past slowly, its headlights sweeping over the grotesque and humorous costumes that filled the street.

Shadow's Step turned his head and sniffed the air. Female, and not yet changed. But if he could pick out her scent among all of these people, then she must be on the cusp of change.

He turned and went with the flow of people, moving past those stood queuing to enter nightclubs and bars along the wide and brightly lit street. People stumbled off the pavement into the road, a glass smashed somewhere and a girl squealed excitedly. The night was filled with laughter and lively banter. An almost full moon hung high overheard.

Shadow tracked the scent past scores of people, taking his time, wary of getting this wrong. The centre of the city of Caerton was unclaimed by his kind, anyone who came into their birthright here was vulnerable. They could be snatched up by any pack of shapeshifters that claimed the surrounding territories, or they could be slaughtered by demons before they even knew what they were.

The crowd began to thin as he approached the end of the street. One last bar stood sentinel at the crossroads, red rope hung across the door. There she was, more easily identifiable now that she wasn't surrounded by dozens of people. She was young, barely legally able to enter the bar. She had a tall, well-built man on her arm and was dressed provocatively as some sort of dark fairy. A memory tugged at his mind, her face was familiar but he couldn't place it.

Shadow watched her from a few feet away as she entered the private party, and went beyond his reach. She could change at any time, certainly within the next lunar cycle. He glanced around at the people bustling past and his gaze settled on the relatively quiet bar across the street. Jogging over to it, he smoothly slipped between slow moving cars on the busy street and entered the bar. It was quiet, no more than a dozen patrons, and a low murmur filled the air. Vodka tonic in hand, Shadow took a seat in the window.

The alcohol warmed his insides as he sipped, but did little to fog his mind. He watched the revellers in the street, forever separate from them, yet here amongst them, unseen. Even the young man at the bar who served him his drink seemed to look right through him. It was one of Shadow's many special traits. His plain, dark clothes enhanced his ability to blend in, and his rich-coffee-coloured skin wasn't out of place in the diverse city. His amber eyes could be mildly hypnotic on certain people. He had spent most of his life perfecting ways to go unseen.

He couldn't see much through the windows of the bar across the street, but every now and then he caught a glimpse of her among the crowd. More than this though, he felt a tingle up his spine at her proximity, even with two panes of glass and a street packed with cars and people between them, he knew she was there. He couldn't switch it off, nor would he want to. He had to know who she was, where she lived and if necessary, be there when she changed.

It was only one month until the next blue moon; the rare event of a third full moon of four in a single season, where normally there were only three. It was his pack's namesake and a special time for them. They had recently been sent one new cub from out of town and had their eyes on another about to change for the first time, any day now, probably over the full moon. Shadow sipped his drink and considered the possibility that Luna was sending them gifts in preparation for the blue moon. Of course, it was really her Greek sister, Artemis who determined who changed and who didn't, they were her Chosen, but The Blue Moon had a special relationship with Luna, who almost certainly had a degree of influence.

The night wore on, traffic on the streets thinned a little. Taxis glided past, scoping for business and the queues outside the bars dwindled away. Drunken youths stumbled by, shouting obscenities and chanting “Trick or treat”. Shadow's gaze barely shifted from the bar opposite. He searched his memory for her face, but without a better look at her he would continue to draw a blank.

When he saw the door open and the young woman and her companion step out he was on his feet in an instant. He stood motionless at the window, watching them as the man removed his jacket and draped it across her bare shoulders. Her face was bathed in light from the bar and the street lamps, but last time Shadow's Step had seen her she was deep in shadow, peering through a window. He gasped as the memory returned to him. He knew now how he recognised her. She had seen him, the real him, and some of his pack. She didn't appear to have gone insane from it, here she was, socialising and happy. So she really must be on the cusp of change herself, it was the only way she could be functioning so well.

The couple set off walking and Shadow moved swiftly to the door and stepped out into the cool night breeze. There was a hint of rain in the air.

Shadow strode after them, keeping a few other pedestrians between them. She lived on his territory, she was his to protect. This meat-head with the showy tattoos may have looked big and strong, but he would soon shy away and abandon her. Few humans could stand the company of the Chosen of Artemis once they changed.

He slipped down a dark alley, took a few paces into the black and shifted seamlessly from man to fox. It was a transition as easy to him as waving an arm or taking a stride. He was far older than the thirty or so years he appeared and had been a fully matured shapeshifter for many decades. He no longer felt the clunking of bones, the crunching of muscles, the cramps of organs shifting. He had lost all sense of his ability being an enormous effort quicker than he had lost his Indian accent.

He sprinted for home, taking advantage of the small, hidden spaces that humans didn't notice. Relief flooded his veins as he crossed the boundary of his territory, St. Mark's in the north of the city. No shifter was ever truly safe outside their own borders, even on relatively friendly turf. Caerton's city centre was one of the most dangerous places to be, so he was glad to be home. He slowed his pace and jogged up back streets and alleys until he reached the place he had seen the girl before.

He emerged from the alley opposite her home and stopped in the shadows. A moment later a sleek, black car pulled up at the kerb and the couple climbed out of it. Her scent was so crisp, now that he was in his fox form, there really was no mistaking it. He detected a familiarity to it now too, something else was at work here, though he couldn't identify what. Shadow shook his head and focused his gaze across the street.

They were kissing. He let out a low snarl of irritation and averted his eyes. He had confirmed it, that was enough. He knew where she lived, he knew they needed to watch her carefully.

2

Five Years Previously

'I hate Halloween,' Fortune snarled. He took a long drag on a cigarette; the smoke curled around his fingers and drifted up into the cool night air. The sky above was black and starless. 'So many ugly wannabes, thinking they know what lurks in the shadows. They haven't got a clue. If it weren't for us, the monsters duty-bound to protect them, the demons would crawl out and bring all of their nightmares to life.'

Shadow's Step clucked his tongue. His Alpha was never one to mince his words. The pair of them watched a small group of costumed revellers make their way up the street, shoving one another, and passing a bottle of cheap wine amongst them. One of the youngsters bore a werewolf mask and shaggy carpet of a costume. Fortune grimaced and tossed his cigarette butt to the ground. 'I'm going to quit.'

'You always say that and you never do,' Shadow said with a smirk.

'Yeah, yeah. Whatever.' Fortune ran his hands through his long, matted and greying hair. He turned and strode to the betting shop door. He flung it wide and went inside. Shadow watched the merry party drift further away down the busy street before following his Alpha inside. He flipped the sign in the shop door from “open” to “closed” and bolted the door. Fortune had already disappeared into the back room, where Speaks-With-Stone was counting the day's takings. She was a tall and athletic woman with auburn hair that fell softly over her shoulders. Shadow joined them and took a seat on a high stool next to Stone. She slid a pile of notes across the desk towards him and he dutifully set about counting them.

'I have an idea,' Flames-First-Guardian said, bustling into the room from the back hallway. He had two books open in his hands and a stack of notes piled precariously on top of them. His cheeks were flushed and there was a dangerous glint in his eye. He was a tall and stocky man, with thick hair that looked like it hadn't seen a comb in some years.

'What about?' Shadow asked, raising an eyebrow. Flames glared at him incredulously.

'We know she isn't dead, we would have felt it. We know she didn't leave us, we would have felt that too. She wouldn't come when we tried summoning her, six times. She must be being held somewhere. What if we summon something else? What if we can summon an aspect of her? What if we can draw out part of her consciousness?'

'That sounds.... intriguing.' Fortune took the notes from Flames and started skimming them.

'Has it been done before?' Shadow asked, pausing his money count.

'Yes,' Flames said, a grin spreading across his face. 'I found a record of it happening decades ago. Remember that pack that used to claim St. Catherine's about thirty years ago?'

'You want us to try something that those nutters did?' Fortune snapped.

'They went insane and turned cannibal. I can't see the win here,' Stone said softly, still steadily counting the money.

'I don't think this ritual had anything to do with that,' Flames said, shaking his head. 'It was a long time before that happened.'

'What did they do?' Shadow asked. He had stacks of fifties clasped in both hands and had long since lost count.

'They split a construct in two. It was trapped in the construct realm, Nidavellir, presumably held captive. When they tried to summon it only a part of it arrived through the veil, just its conscious mind. Like it astral projected from its own realm. They were in Hepethia at the time, not here. That might be the key. Hepethia is like a doorway between all of the realms, it connects everywhere. It's rare to be able to open the veil to realms other than Hepethia from here, that's why we make special doorways to the other realms, that we can open whenever we need to.'

'What happened?' Shadow asked, half rising from his chair without realising what he was doing.

'Well, it didn't end well, in truth.' Flames blushed bright crimson and averted his eyes.

'What happened?' Stone pressed, raising her eyes and pausing the count.

'The aspect they summoned tried to kill them and fled. It was insane. They tracked it and found it embedded in a demon. It went on to become the Barron-of-Blooded-Shards.'

'Ah,' Stone said, going back to her accounting.

'But they did it, they didn't do it on purpose, so they didn't know what to do with it once they had it. If we were in control of the situation it's possible that we could draw out her conscious mind and she could tell us where she was being held and by whom.'

'Make it happen,' Fortune instructed, thrusting the notes back into Flames' hands. He nearly dropped his books as he grabbed hold of them. Shadow had rarely seen Flames so animated, which showed him just how urgently Flames needed to find their lost ally.

'It might be a good idea if I had some help!' Flames snapped at Fortune's retreating back. The Alpha stopped in the door to the hall and looked back over his shoulder.

'You want to bring the Old Man into this?' Fortune asked, his lip curling.

'He's the most accomplished ritualist I've ever known, and you know what it takes for me to say that.'

'No,' snapped Fortune. 'No outsiders on this, especially not him.' He stalked off into the house, leaving the others staring after him.

'He has a point,' Shadow said softly, taking the books from Flames and helping him stack everything into a more manageable pile.

'I suppose,' Flames grudgingly admitted.

'You don't know for certain we can trust him,' Stone said as she bagged up the piles of cash.

'I do. I trust him as much as any of you.'

'You haven't seen him in five years,' Stone said, her voice perfectly steady.

Flames cast her a sideways glance that Shadow saw as plain as day. He caught Flames' arm and wheeled him around to face him.

'You haven't seen him? Have you?'

'No, no of course not. But we've corresponded. He's exiled, not dead.' Flames tugged his arm free and spun away from Shadow, following Fortune into the house. Shadow looked at Stone and they held each other's gaze for a few seconds.

'Is he mad?' Shadow whispered at last.

'No, well, no more than he was yesterday.' Stone stood up and packed the last of the money away into the safe.

'He wouldn't share sensitive information outside the pack, would he? They have a long history.'

'I don't think so,' Stone said slowly. The wary look in her eyes put Shadow on edge.

'We never did really find out whose side he was on.'

'I think Father Ash has only ever been on his own side, Shadow,' Stone said softly. She locked the safe and swept past Shadow after the others. Shadow stood in the silence of the betting shop and stared at the bare walls. It had been months since Caeruleum Lunulam had disappeared from their lives. She was their closest ally, their guide and confidant. She had founded their pack and given them their name long before Shadow's Step had joined them. Her disappearance had haunted Flames ever since. Fortune was a stubborn enough shifter to not be willing to let her go easily and was indulging Flames' obsession. Shadow locked the door between the betting shop floor and back office, before heading into the house after the rest of the pack.

The narrow passage that led from the shop to the kitchen was dark, the paint peeling from the grey walls. He passed the little door down into the basement, it was slightly ajar with dim light shining from the crack around it. He could hear Flames talking to himself and bustling around at the bottom of the stairs. Shadow moved on and pushed open the kitchen door in front of him. Fortune and Stone were standing by the oven, preparing food in tense silence. The kitchen was substantially proportioned, taking up the back half of the property. A large, pine table filled the centre of the room, with matching chairs surrounding it. An old but well-maintained double oven dominated one side of the room, the heart of their home.

Shadow moved into the room and dragged a chair out to sit down.

'Actually,' Fortune said suddenly, turning to face his pack mate. 'Could you patrol before dinner? Check that nothing's twitching tonight.'

'Sure,' Shadow replied, his hand still on the back of the chair. He slid it back under the table and stalked out through the back door into the pitch black yard. He shifted form and sprinted out into the cobbled back street.

3

November arrived in Caerton. The constant drizzle left its sheen on the streets, and fog clung to the air day and night. Shadow hardly saw Flames. He was forever in the basement or off somewhere else, researching his ritual. He had become feverish with excitement over it. Fortune wasn't much better. He barked orders and was spending more and more time in Hepethia, as if trying to commune with the place. Shadow's Step diligently helped Stone to keep their home and business ticking over.

'We have to do it at the full moon,' Flames declared one evening. He burst into the kitchen as the others were eating dinner. Shadow hadn't seen him for two days, but had heard him moving about in the basement. 'Two days' time. I can be ready.'

'Okay,' Fortune said, nodding resolutely. 'Where?'

'In Hepethia. Out on the open plains.'

'Should we clear it first?' Stone asked, not looking up from her meal.

'Yes,' Flames said, as he sat down and ladled out some stew into a bowl. 'There can't be any interruptions.'

'Right. We'll do that tomorrow and make sure we arrive early on the full moon too, in case anything creeps back afterwards.' Fortune returned to his food as if nothing had happened.

Shadow caught Stone's ever-cautious eye. An anxious knot formed in his gut and twisted around his food. He trusted his pack mates on almost all things, but something about this situation didn't feel right. Fortune was a hothead, it was in his blood, as it was in most shifters who changed under a full moon. But he was never usually reckless. He would never have survived as Alpha of their pack for so long if he were.

Flames-First-Guardian had become erratic and feverish since Caeruleum Lunulam had vanished. His normal stoicism had been overridden by his deep passion. Sometimes Shadow felt he hardly knew his brother these days.

*

'Ready?' Fortune asked as he glowered at Flames.

'Yes. Are you?'

'Let's get over there and do this.' Fortune took a step and vanished from the kitchen. Shadow and Stone exchanged troubled glances for about the hundredth time that week, then followed their Alpha.

Crossing the veil between the human world and the shifter world, Hepethia, was like missing a step on a steep staircase. There was a moment where one's heart leaped into the throat, and the stomach, or its contents, got left behind, only to emerge on the other side as if nothing but an ordinary step had taken place. Shadow's Step had crossed the veil thousands of times in his considerable life, so now it didn't feel much different to any other step.

On the other side, in Hepethia, there was a near perfect reflection of the kitchen, and of the whole house. The kitchen was warm and inviting, filled with the smell of cooking. The only way it was possible to tell that this was Hepethia, was the way the shadows seemed to stretch and twitch of their own accord.

Shadow glanced around at the others, then followed Fortune as he led them out through the back door and into the narrow, pitch black street. Here it really was black, there were no street lights and the sky above was as dull as slate. The ground was lined with cobblestones and a scuttling sound betrayed the presence of something fleeing in the dark.

The Blue Moon walked swiftly along the street, their footsteps echoing off the darkened buildings on either side. Shadow felt the darkness pressing in on them, but wasn't afraid; the shadows were his allies.

The streets of St. Mark's were built on a neat grid in the human world, but in Hepethia they were a twisted, tangled maze designed to ensnare enemies of the pack that claimed it. Shadow had been new to the Blue Moon when they built it, it was one of his first projects. It had taken months of hard work, shaping the rough crystal landscape into these red brick terraced houses. It was a special gift of their kind, to will their home realm to take any shape they wished. Hepethia was as much a shape shifter as any flesh and blood being that bore that description.

The pack made their way swiftly through the maze, every twist and turn memorised; and headed north into the very heart of their territory. They emerged from a narrow street onto an open plain, where Hepethia had barely been touched by them or any shifters who came before them. In the daylight, the clear crystal quartz shone so bright you could hardly look at it, but at night it soaked up the black and amplified it. There were no shadows, just dull, flat nothing.

Flames opened his palm and a little yellow flame flickered to life in it. He tossed it into the air, where it became a spinning ball of fire that hovered over their heads, casting long, dark shadows out from them.

'Is it still clear?' Fortune asked, squinting out across the dark plain.

Shadow looked all around them, searching the dark for a sign of life. He could see better in the dark than any of them, with the possible exception of Stone when she took to the sky.

'I think so. Stone, you should take a look, just in case.'

Stone nodded and leaped up from the ground, bursting from her human form into that of a brown and white speckled tawny owl. She swooped up above the light and soared out of sight. Shadow searched the sky for her, but she had blended into the black. A few seconds later she returned, shifting form smoothly to land on her human feet.

'All clear.'

'Let's do this,' Fortune said, his voice sharp and eager.

The four of them spread out to form a circle around the little flame overheard. Flames wiped his hands anxiously on his long coat and cleared his throat. Shadow took a deep breath and looked out of the circle into the black beyond.

Flames reached into the inside pocket of his coat and fished around for something. He pulled out a deep blue candle and lit it with a snap of his fingers. He set off walking around the circle, a low hum rumbling from his deep chest. As he passed behind Shadow, a cool breeze fluttered past and a ripple of energy spread out from the ground where Shadow stood. He picked up the hum and began patting a beat with his hand against his thigh. It was a well-practised ritual for casting a circle, one they had performed together hundreds of times. Tap, tap-tap; tap, tap-tap. The others picked up the rhythm and the hum too and the field of energy radiated out from them, sending ripples out across the plain.

Flames placed the candle on the floor in the centre of the circle, then made his way back to his place. A light blue line appeared where he had walked. It glowed faintly in the dark and slowly rose up, forming a protective dome over the pack.

'Luna, give us your guidance. We gather here to continue our search for your dear daughter, Caeruleum Lunulam, Blue Moon. She is lost but not gone and we wish to find her.' Flames' voice held steady and calm, though Shadow knew how fast his heart was pounding, he could feel it within himself through the special bond that connected them as pack mates.

A breeze ran around the circle and Shadow looked up expectantly.

'Bright Luna, we entreat you, please help your daughter come back to us from wherever she is being held. Let us hear her voice, let her guide us to her.' Flames' voice trembled slightly as the breeze that had fluttered past them picked up into a swirling wind around him. The little ball of flame bobbing above them went out, plunging them into near darkness but for the low glow of the protective dome.

The wind died down and Shadow felt his pulse settle to normal from the pounding that it had elevated to. The blue glow around them grew brighter and a dazzling column appeared at the centre of the circle. Shadow had to shield his eyes and turn away. He caught sight of Flames, who had dropped his hands to his sides and was staring intently at the blazing light. The glare settled down, leaving them bathed in soft, silvery light. Shadow dropped his hand and stared into the glow. A woman stood there, tall and slender, draped in sheer blue fabric that floated around her body.

'She cannot come,' the woman said. Her voice was soft and distant, and far deeper than Shadow had been expecting. 'I am Nicaea, maiden of Artemis. What you are attempting to do is dangerous and you will fail. I have been sent to intervene.'

'Nicaea, greetings,' Stone said. Her voice echoed slightly, reverberating off the protective dome around them. 'Please, where is our patron?'

'Gone. Taken. She is no longer in this realm. I cannot sense precisely where she is, but I do know who took her.'

'Who?' Fortune and Flames asked together.

'A pack of Furies called The Witches,' Nicaea replied softly. 'I urge you not to invite war with them. Caeruleum Lunulam is gone. Even if you could return her to this realm she would likely be changed, no longer your loving patron, but altered by her captivity.'

'We can't just leave her,' Flames said hotly.

'You must. Her fate is not yours. You can still turn back from this course.' With that, the water nymph disappeared.

4

'I won't accept it,' Fortune barked.

'With respect, Alpha,' Shadow said as they marched back to the betting shop, 'you have no choice. We have to move on. We have work to do and we can do it without her. We can find another patron if we choose to, although we don't necessarily need one.'

Fortune glared at him without slowing down.

'Find Grins-Too-Widely. I want him to find out all he can on these Witches.'

'Really? I mean I know he would probably help, if we can find him, but I strongly urge you to reconsider.'

Fortune let out a huff and Shadow knew the conversation was over. He fell back, walking alongside Stone. She touched his arm and he glanced at her. She wore the same concerned expression she had for most of the previous week.

'We'll talk him around,' she whispered.

'I hope so,' Shadow replied. 'Isn't it Lily's thirteenth birthday next week?'

'Yes. She's been frightfully moody recently. It could be the first change approaching. I changed in puberty, so she may too.'

'Maybe, but it could be all that normal human stuff.' He wrinkled his nose. Female adolescence wasn't discussed in his culture. It had taken many hours in meditation in order for him to be able to shed the notion that menstruating females were somehow unclean. But he still didn't like to think about it all. Besides, Lily was Stone's little sister and practically his own sibling to boot. He had known her all her life. The idea of her growing into a young woman was decidedly unsettling. Although it would be helpful not to have to worry about her vulnerability so much.

When they arrived back at the betting shop, Shadow's Step didn't go inside with the rest. At the back of the building was a black metal fire escape that wound its way up all three floors to the roof. He scaled it easily and stood on the sloping roof just below the skylight into the building. Looking out over the territory, Shadow felt the darkness of Hepethia gathering around him. The gnarled streets twisted away into the distance and shapes moved against the dark sky.

Somewhere out there was their old Alpha, the shifter that used to lead the Blue Moon. He had been born of a fox's moon, just like Shadow. The wily old fox had danced with the dark and felt it in his heart, but had taken one too many journeys into the shadows and not been able to return. Grins-Too-Widely had shifted into his fox form and run off into Hepethia. His bond to the pack broke, his feelings disappeared from their empathic bond, and yet they knew he hadn't died. From time to time Shadow would see the elusive fox disappearing down an alley, or sense him watching them as they went about their business. Once he had seen the fox watching them from the shadows during a ritual.

Flames had told them it was rare, but known to happen that shifters lost themselves to their animal side and lost their humanity. Sometimes it was an affinity that claimed them, sometimes they simply got too powerful for their human bodies to contain them. However it happened, it was extraordinary every time. There were records of it happening to only a small handful of shifters in Caerton in all of recorded history. In general, shifters lived fairly brutal lives, many died young. Others, like Shadow and Fortune, lived for many decades. No shifter, as far as Shadow knew, had ever died of old age. Unless you could honestly count age as the reason for that crucial moment in a fight where the enemy got the upper hand and finally took the ageing shifter down.

Shadow tried not to think about the end of his life, but the maudlin thoughts caught up with him now, on that rooftop staring into the dark. It could happen at any time. It wasn't likely to be illness or infirmity. It would likely be sudden and painful. Maybe if he was very lucky, it would be at the merciful hands of someone he knew, a friend even. Maybe he would get to say goodbye to someone. He had once cradled a pack mate as she slipped away from her injuries. That wouldn't be so bad either.

A breeze brushed his skin and wrenched him from his thoughts. Shadow strode to the edge of the roof and leapt off it. He shifted form as he fell towards the rough pavement. Bones stretching, muscles contorting, a huge snout erupting on his face. He landed with a heavy thud on his two huge hind feet, his knees flexing smoothly to take the landing. He stood up straight; a seven-foot tall beast covered in thick fur, his heavy breaths catching the cold air and turning to smoky curls. His hands had grown sharp, black claws in place of nails, and his palms bore leathery pads, just as his feet did. There was something bear-like about his appearance; the Agrius shape that all shifters could take, so named for the legendary beast from Greek myth who was half human and half bear.

Shadow set off along the road, his footsteps heavy on the black tarmac. He normally chose a stealthy approach, but on this occasion he wanted to attract attention. Movement in the shadows at the side of the road registered in his primitive brain. When the demon launched itself out of the darkness towards him, Shadow's arm thrust out and caught it by the neck without him even taking his eyes off the road ahead. He gripped it hard in his clawed fist and turned his head slowly to look at it. It was a scrawny, dark creature, with red eyes that bulged. Its little clawed fingers scratched at Shadow's hand, but he barely felt it. Shadow growled, grabbed the demon's head in his other hand and ripped it from its neck. He tossed the two pieces to the ground, where they pooled into the darkness and disintegrated.

He went on his way, hearing the scuttling sounds of other beasts getting out of his path. A small, gruff bark ahead caught his attention. He sniffed, sucking in the cold air through his nose and mouth, smelling and tasting all at once. It was him. Not yet visible, but that was his scent. Shadow willed his body to shift down into his human form. Limbs contracting with sickening clicks and crunches, fur receding back under the skin. He moved forward quickly and silently up the cobbled street. Dark buildings leaned overhead, so that only a slither of sky was visible between them. Lights flickered behind curtains in some windows, static hissed and the living street throbbed with hidden mysteries. Shadow ran swiftly to the end of the street and stopped. He looked up and down the wider road that he emerged onto. It twisted away in opposite directions.

'Please can we talk?' he said quietly, his voice alerting every living thing there to his presence. The shadows quivered and some of them retreated. A pale blue street lamp nearby flickered and went out. Shadow stepped out into the road and turned towards the darkened lamp. He saw the eyes first, unblinking in the near-dark. Then the teeth. White teeth bared and showing up pale blue against the black. Shadow took a step closer and the fox took a reflexive step back. 'It's me, Shadow's Step. Your old brother.' He held his hands out and crouched down.

Slowly, in the still air, Shadow felt breath moving closer. Grins-Too-Widely was approaching. His eyes glowed as he neared the remaining street light behind Shadow. The fox sniffed, confirming the shifter's scent. A gentle grunt came from the fox, a sound of assent. Shadow smiled and dropped carefully to his knees, keeping his palms out in front of him. The fox stepped into the light. Shadow saw him clearly now for the first time. He was a little larger than your average urban fox, but wiry and mean-looking. His ears were oversized and twitching, constantly listening for danger. But the striking thing about him was his mouth. It was contorted into an enormous grin that stretched beyond his snout, like a macabre cartoon.

Shadow didn't flinch. He had seen infinitely more disturbing sights. Grins-Too-Widely approached cautiously, sniffing the air and ground, until he was just out of Shadow's reach. He sat down and looked at the shifter, his head cocked to one side, that grin unrelenting. 'We lost her,' Shadow whispered. 'We lost Caeruleum Lunulam. She was taken by a pack of Furies calling themselves The Witches.'

Grins-Too-Widely let out a low bark, indicating that he understood every word. The Luna fae had been his patron ally too, before he changed. He must have known her most of his long life. Shadow watched as the fox dropped his head and shook it sadly. 'Do you know anything about these Witches?'

'No,' the fox said softly. Shadow was a little surprised to hear him speak. He blinked hard and looked quizzically at his old Alpha. 'But I cannot enter Fenwick, they must be why. They have strong wards.' The fox's mouth didn't move, those teeth stayed resolutely clenched in that awful grin. The voice was carried by something other than air through vocal chords and mouth.

'I see,' Shadow murmured. Fenwick was on the other side of Crossway, which was just east of St. Mark's. Crossway was as far as the Blue Moon claimed. Fenwick was a leafy suburb, once a village separate from the city, but growth had blurred the boundary between them. The vast forest that lay beyond Fenwick was known to be Fury territory. It would seem that the city's ancient enemy had begun encroaching upon Caerton itself. 'Are you able to find out more for us? Fortune wants to rescue her.'

'I can try, but it won't serve the pack well. You would be better focusing on moving forward. Tick tock.'

'I know, I agree.' Shadow sighed and rubbed his tired face. 'But maybe what you discover will persuade Fortune of that.'

The fox nodded sagely. He let out a little bark, then stood and trotted away into the dark. With resignation, Shadow watched him disappear.

5

'It's been a week. Where is he?' Fortune paced the kitchen, running his hands through his hair, his cheeks flushed. Shadow sat back in his chair, his legs crossed, his fingers idly spinning a coin on the table. This would pass. He just had to ride it out, remaining as calm as possible.

'I'm sure he'll return and tell us what he's found out, once he has something solid to give us.'

Stone stood by the oven, her arms hugging her chest tightly. The knot on her brow hardly left these days. Flames let out a derisive snort and shoved his chair back from the table. He stood and stormed out through the back door. Shadow watched him go, a tight twist forming in his gut. The coin spun on the table, the only sound in the room was that whirring metal on wood. It slowed and toppled over, rocking and tapping until it fell still. Fortune glared at the coin, but Shadow's eyes didn't leave the Alpha. He was nervous about what was going to happen, and he couldn't hide that from Fortune; he would be feeling it through their bond.

'Right,' Fortune said suddenly, snapping his attention away from the coin. 'Right. Stone, go see what you can find out from the neighbours. Theodore is likely to know something and he won't talk to me. But you have a way with him.' There was stiffness to his voice, as there always was when bringing up Theodore Harris, the Alpha of neighbouring pack, The Glass Wolves. Stone nodded and left without a word. 'Shadow, I'm sorry. I know I've been very focused on this and I know you disagree with my approach.' He softened and placed his palms on the table, leaning closer.

'It's okay, I understand.'

'You are my beta, I trust and value your opinion a great deal.'

'It hasn't felt that way recently.'

'I know, I apologise. Give me twelve hours. If we haven't progressed in that time, I swear I will drop this.'

Shadow nodded. He clucked his tongue and swept up the coin.

'I'll see what the shadows are saying. See you later.' Fortune stood up straight again and nodded firmly. Shadow stood and crossed the veil into Hepethia. He flung open the back door and took a step before stopping short at the sight that greeted him. Grins-Too-Widely sat there in the yard, his head on one side, grinning.

'I was just coming to see you,' the fox said softly, mild surprise in his voice.

'Likewise.' Shadow closed the door behind him and crouched down to meet the fox's eyes. 'What have you found out?'

'They're dangerous.' The fox lifted a paw, it was bleeding. Shadow looked closer and saw that one ear was badly torn and there were bald patches in the fox's fur.

'What happened?'

'The Witches' Witch. A powerful rite mistress. I was spying on them for days, hidden. But she sensed me and summoned a vile demon of thorns to harm me. There was a fight. It's dead now.' He sighed and shook his head. Shadow listened silently. 'They are highly organised, meticulous security. Well, almost. I did manage to slip through, but I suspect I am the first to do so in some time. Their territory is very well tended, nothing moving there that they don't know about. The Alpha is a formidable woman, hypnotic, strict, and an utter sadist. I could find no trace of Caeruleum Lunulam. Wherever they are keeping her she is well hidden. She isn't on this plain, or the human one.'

'We had guessed as much. Thank you. You've taken a great risk for us. Is there anything we can do to repay you?'

'Yes.' The fox stood up and shook his body vigorously. When his fur settled, he was completely healed. 'Yes, you can accept me as your new patron ally and let me continue working with you. I have spent time enough alone in the shadows. I now crave my pack.'

Shadow stood and opened the door. Light spilled out into the yard. He held out a hand, inviting the fox inside. Grins-Too-Widely trotted into the house and shimmered across the veil. Shadow followed, a smile on his dark lips.

Fortune stood aghast, his hands clutching the kitchen sink.

'Fortune,' Shadow said softly. 'Grins-Too-Widely would like to rejoin us.'

'I see,' Fortune spluttered. His eyes were wide as he took in the fox's bizarre appearance. 'Of course. I mean, that would be.... I see. Yes.'

Shadow hid a smirk.

'She is gone, Fortune. But I am here. You will find that we can be stronger together.' His voice was soft and lilting, a slight rumble to it from inside his throat.

Fortune nodded and loosened his grip on the sink.

'Yes. Yes, okay.'

Shadow sensed doubt from the Alpha, reluctance to let go completely. But his words were enough. A ripple flowed through the room. Shadow felt it go through him like a sigh. He felt Fortune's frantic thoughts inside his head, a jumble of confusion and alarm. Stone and Flames too, all of their inner voices clamouring for attention. What happened?

'We are connected now. I am yours and I gift you this telepathy,' Grins-Too-Widely said, and at once Shadow understood where his voice had been coming from all along; it was projected straight into his mind. Now the shifters could communicate with each other telepathically, as well as their new ally.

Caeruleum Lunulam really was gone now. Shadow no longer felt any connection to her, no matter how small and distant. He met Fortune's eyes, he was thinking the exact same thing. He saw his Alpha's Adam's apple bob notably. It was tough to swallow, but they were moving forward.

Stone and Flames burst through the back door together. Their eyes swept over the scene.

'It's amazing. I don't think any pack has ever taken a transformed shifter as a spiritual ally before,' Flames said, gawking.

There's a first time for everything.

6

Present Day

Shadow's Step sat in the dark watching her sleep. The first change was always rough. Some shifters didn't survive it. Ariana had. The girl from the window, the party girl with the meat-head boyfriend. She had rampaged through the street, caused quite a commotion. But the Blue Moon had shielded her from the humans and any demons that might have taken advantage of a fresh young shifter. Now she was here, at the betting shop, safe and sound.

Grins-Too-Widely moved beside him, almost invisible in the darkened room.

I know her scent now. I couldn't quite tell why it was familiar when I first smelled it. Shadow rubbed his temples, his gaze never leaving the sleeping girl.

Yes, the fox replied. Are you going to tell her?

When the time is right. I'll have to.

You'll need to watch her carefully. Her true name is an omen.

Oh?

When she finds it you'll see what I mean.

Shadow glanced at the fox. Sometimes it would be nice to get a straight answer from him. Shadow wasn't concerned. They would keep her safe, he would train her. The four new cubs were a blessing from Luna. They would finally avenge Caeruleum Lunulam; the forthcoming blue moon would give them the power they needed to succeed. He smiled to himself. Yes, at whatever cost, they would succeed.

The Storm Riders' Vigil

1

Fire Talon felt his hand rise and fall with the gentle breathing underneath it. A sudden nudge against his palm made him jump and a small laugh escaped his lips.

'I felt that one!' he cried.

'Hmm?' Eva murmured sleepily.

'The baby kicked,' he said, his voice full of wonder.

'Yeah,' Eva said, smiling serenely at him, her eyes still closed.

He dragged his attention from her beautiful, swollen belly and looked into her peaceful face. Eva was just about perfect to his eyes, especially now. He had always seen her as beautiful, but fragile, as all humans were. But as the life inside her had grown he had only ever seen her strength grow to eclipse that fragility. Through morning sickness and heartburn and all of the stresses placed upon her body by the work it was doing to grow a new life, she had grown ever more strong and beautiful.

Their baby would be born soon, he could feel it. Eva was slowing down. She had cleaned every possible part of their flat, including inside all of the kitchen cupboards, and all of the baby clothes and nappies had been washed and folded away neatly. Her friends had given her a blessingway, a special ritual to prepare her for birth, and she had come home positively glowing. Everything was ready.

Fire Talon watched her drift off to sleep. He stroked her dark hair from her face and kissed her full lips softly before slipping away.

As strong as she was and as ready as she was to become a mother, he couldn't help but be afraid. It was probably normal for new fathers to feel apprehensive on the cusp of the birth of their baby, but he wasn't worried about the normal pitfalls of fatherhood. Changing nappies, understanding his baby's cries, being able to let go as he or she rode away on their first bike; none of these things scared him. What did scare him was keeping his child safe from the demons, the dangerous shape shifters and the myriad of other deadly enemies he had.

He knew what his Alpha wanted him to do, he knew what his kind usually did. They walked away from their families when a new baby was born, distancing themselves in order to keep them safe. He was a magnet for danger, and the closer he kept his family, the more danger he placed them in. He knew that, and his rational mind chastised him daily for sticking with Eva through the pregnancy. But he couldn't help it, he was in love with her and the baby he had not yet laid eyes upon.

He went to the window and looked out. Their flat was right on the coast and looked out over the docks. Rain was pounding on the street outside and smattering on the window pane. The tide was high and waves crashed against the sea wall that surrounded this section of the docks. Standing on the wall, watching the sea and being drenched by the spray, was a dark figure in a long coat. Fire Talon knew instantly who it was, his Alpha, Iron Sky.

He slipped quietly from the bedroom and shoved his feet into his boots, grabbed his coat and headed out of the door. As he reached the street, Fire Talon pulled his hood over his head and ran swiftly across the deserted street, vaulted over the low wall that separated the docks from the road, and ran swiftly through the rain up the steps to the sea wall.

'How's Eva?' Iron Sky called out over the sound of the pounding waves, not taking his eyes off the horizon.

'Fine, thank you,' Fire Talon replied.

Iron Sky was tall and lean. His long, grey hair whipped about him in the fierce wind, his full beard protected his face from the elements. He wore a long, dark coat that flapped wildly around his legs.

'A perfect storm,' the Alpha said with a serene smile on his lips. Fire Talon nodded in agreement, and turned his eyes out to sea.

'Any sign of them?' Fire Talon asked nervously.

'No, it's been four days since the last one came ashore. But we must keep watch.'

The two men stood watching the raging sea without speaking another word. Fire Talon thought about the horrors that he knew lurked underneath the tumultuous water, and a shudder went right through him. Iron Sky had been warning their pack for years now that something was coming, the sea could not contain it for much longer, though he could not say what form the storm would take.

'I'd better get back,' Fire Talon said, after maybe an hour's watch. Iron Sky merely nodded and remained at his vigil.

Back in the warmth and comfort of his flat, Fire Talon stripped off his sodden clothes and dumped them into the laundry basket. He towel-dried his short, wet hair, and slipped smoothly into bed. Eva was sleeping soundly, propped up on half a dozen pillows, and he snuggled as close to her as he could. She was soft and warm, she was his home and heart, and his duty to his pack dragged him away from where he wanted to be.

2

The fox slipped in through the door silently and joined the two wolves and the cat in the dark boat shed at the edge of the docks. The sun was setting and drizzle fell, not loud enough to make any noise on the corrugated iron roof. The four animals shifted form, their bodies stretching, fur receding and clothes appearing over human skin. Two men and two women stood in a loose circle next to an old fishing boat on still water. The wolves had been Fire Talon and Iron Sky. The fox had morphed into a slender woman with spiked, blond hair. The cat had transfigured into a tall, athletic woman with pale skin and wild eyes and she carried a tall staff.

This was where the Storm Riders made their living and maintained their cover, repairing fishing boats. They had two small sheds, which were connected by a small cabin that formed a staff room. Work was infrequent and didn't pay well, but it served its purpose well enough.

'Thank you for coming,' Iron Sky said quietly. 'We need to cross into Hepethia and deal with an incursion on the coastal border.'

'No!' Fire Talon snarled in frustration. 'I can't, I need to stay close to home. Eva could go into labour at any time now.'

'Don't worry, Daddy,' the former-fox said, with a sly grin, and thumped him on the back. 'We'll get you home in one piece as quickly as we can.'

He cast her a sceptical look and nodded solemnly.

'Fine, Sleet, fine. I wish I could get a signal in Hepethia.' He held up his phone, turned it this way and that, checking the signal. It was fine here, but across the veil it would be dead.

The four shape shifters stepped across the veil into the realm of their kind, Hepethia. The shed looked almost identical as it did in the world of humanity, but the dock next to them was empty. In the human world, this end of the dock was filled with moored fishing and leisure boats, bobbing slightly on the relatively calm waters of the dockyard. A high sea wall surrounded them, three metres thick and at least eight metres high. In Hepethia there were no boats. Calm, grey water lapped against a crystalline shore. The wall was a far bigger construction than in the human world, protecting the land from the dangers from the sea. It towered high above the water, casting a dark shadow on the water behind it and the crystals on the land. There were crystal watch posts jutting up high enough for someone to see over the wall at frequent intervals all along the coast.

Further down the coast, west towards the open sea and away from the estuary upon which the city of Caerton stood, were the shipyards. Vast warehouses with dry docks dominated the landscape. Some were barren, disused for decades. Others were still fully operational, building some of the biggest, fastest sea vessels in the world. In Hepethia, it was a landscape of enormous crystal mountains, standing sentinel at the edge of the city.

The four shifters ran silently away from the docks and onto the sea road that they had fashioned for convenience. They followed it east to where a small pebble beach sat below the road. The tide was coming in and the beach was shallow. Fire Talon squinted out to sea, the water was grey, and foam washed in on the crest of each wave. He looked back toward the dock and sighed with relief when he saw their patron following them.

It appeared from behind the massive wall, rising up from under the sea. Its radar tower came first, water running off it as it rose from its sub-aquatic resting place. Next the bridge, the cannons and finally the hull. She steamed silently through the water up the coast towards them, the HMS Dreadnought. She was vast, towering over the four shifters, a construct of war and naval might, of Caerton's industry and heritage. She guided their pack, the Storm Riders, and was Caerton's first line of defence against enemies from the sea.

'There!' yelled Sleet, dragging Fire Talon's attention back to the moment. She was pointing out to sea and he focused his eyes on the wave rushing in to meet the shore.

He saw it, the face rising out of the water. Not just one, there were more. At least half a dozen. Their faces came first, gradually followed by their bodies. They were crude representations of humans but not fully shifted. Some had gills, one had a shark fin on his back. Tentacles writhed about on most of them, some had flippers for hands and they all struggled to walk on their newly formed feet. They all had sickly green or blue skin and black eyes.

Fire Talon and his kind were the chosen of Artemis, the goddess of the moon, the hunt and wild animals. She granted them the ability to change from their human shape into that of a nocturnal animal.

These creatures were the chosen of Poseidon. The powerful sea god chose from the creatures of the sea and gave them human form. But he was not as skilled as Artemis, and his minions shambled up onto the shore like grotesque, part-fish zombies. The first time Fire Talon had seen one he had laughed, there was something comical about them. But he soon learned to take them seriously.

The figures trudging towards his pack now were baring their sharp teeth, issuing vicious, hissing noises and strange cries.

Iron Sky jumped down onto the beach and drew a great sword from his back. He took two giant strides down the beach and swung the huge weapon with two hands, slicing the nearest creature neatly in two. The top part slithered to the floor and the bottom half promptly dropped.

The rest of the pack leapt down after him, Fire Talon felt the heat of adrenaline coursing through his veins and he rushed forward, shifting as he charged. His body grew in every direction; limbs lengthened, shoulders broadened. His feet became huge paws and his muscular arms ended in feral hands with sharp claws. His face burst into that of a vicious beast, a jutting muzzle and a mouth filled with huge teeth. He was Agrius, the perfect fusion of man and bear.

He roared before springing at one of the sea shifters. It was a tentacled thing and it lashed out at him, catching him with a sharp sting right across his face. He recoiled in pain, hissing wildly. To his right, Sleet and Storm Dancer worked together to take on two other sea shifters. Fire Talon regained his focus and lunged at the creature in front of him. The tentacles flailed around and he got stung again, but with fierce determination he ignored the pain and grabbed hold of a cluster of tentacles in his left hand and pulled the creature towards him. He bared his teeth and snarled into the creature's face. It thrashed around, squealing and hissing. Its legs kicked out and Fire Talon held it at arm's length to avoid getting kicked.

He grabbed its neck and covered the gills on the sides with his large hand. With a mighty surge of strength, Fire Talon pulled the tentacles from the creature's body and they came away with a sickening squelch. He tossed the tentacles aside and with a roar, separated the head from the body. The whole thing was squishy and soft, and exploded like a water balloon upon impact with the stony beach, scattering its fishy flesh all over the place.

Fire Talon turned his attention to the next creature limping out of the sea. Its eyes locked onto him, it put its head down and rushed towards him with a shriek. He jumped aside, letting it rush past him and crash headlong into the wall at the top of the little beach. It turned around, stunned, but standing. It shrieked again and rushed with its head up. As it got close it projected great glob of sticky phlegm from its mouth, hitting Fire Talon full in the face.

It smelled foul, like rotting fish and Fire Talon recoiled. He stumbled backwards into the shallow water, and his senses began to dull. He wiped his face with his bestial hand and the goo clung to his fur, forming a disgusting string between his face and hand. He spat and furiously tried to rid himself of the sticky substance, as his face began to go numb and his throat began to swell. He tried to roar, but the sound stuck in his inflamed gullet and a strange, strangled noise came out.

The sea shifter came at him with a cleaver-like fin for a hand and slashed at his chest. He fell backwards into the sea with a huge splash. He gasped for breath as the thing leaped into the air and landed square on his chest, pinning him down, and pushed his head under the water.

He flailed his limbs, desperate to escape. He could hardly hear anything and his vision was fading. He started to go limp, life ebbing out of his body. For a long moment the lights went out, and he fell still.

A spark of a thought flickered through his mind, just for an instant before it was gone again. Suddenly it flared up, full and bright: He had to live, he had to get out of this. His baby and his love needed him.

Fire rose in his chest, pure adrenaline, boosted by the gifts granted to him by Artemis and his other patron, the Norse god Odin. He was one of the Berserkers, Odin's Warriors, known for their frenzied attacks and extreme resilience. Blood pumped through his veins and he flexed his muscles. With a massive surge of strength, Fire Talon burst up out of the water, roaring. The sea shifter went flying, landing a few feet away on the beach with a crunch. He was a beast filled with blind rage, fuelled by the spiritual energy in his blood and he would have attacked the first thing he saw, even one of his pack mates. But something moved in his peripheral vision, a black shape in the darkening sky and his eyes snapped towards it. A raven circled overhead, one of Odin's dedicated allies, and rationality was restored to Fire Talon's mind.

He returned his gaze to the sea shifter, flailing on the ground in front of him. Storm Dancer stood over it, her staff pinning it to the ground.

'It's all yours,' she said calmly.

Fire Talon's top lip curled, satisfaction and eagerness for the kill clawing at him from within. He strode forward on his powerful, Agrius legs and stomped down hard with one foot right on the creature's chest. His foot went straight through the ribs and crunched on the pebbles beneath, killing the thing instantly. He pulled his foot out and shook off the fish flesh before shifting back into his human form.

The beach was strewn with the remains of Poseidon's chosen, and his pack mates were standing.

Fire Talon looked into the sky for the raven. It was still circling silently. He watched it for a minute, his mind slowly calming and his pulse returning to normal.

'Eva,' he blurted out the moment she popped into his thoughts.

'Go,' Storm Dancer said, pulling her staff out of the collapsed stomach of the fallen sea shifter. 'We can finish up here.'

He looked to Iron Sky for confirmation. The Alpha gave a sharp nod before proceeding to pick up the arm of a sea shifter and tossing it into the sea.

Fire Talon shifted form again, this time taking the shape of the animal that his dedication to Odin had granted him, that of an eagle. He leapt into the sky, his majestic wings spread wide, and soared back along the coast to his home. He crossed the veil in flight, appearing above the seafront properties in the human world. As he reached his building he circled around to the back. He shifted form as he landed in one fluid movement, landing gently on the ground in the dark alley behind the block of flats.

He ran around to the front door and quickly let himself in. As he bounded up the stairs he tugged his phone from his pocket and checked for missed calls. Nothing. No messages. He slowed his pace and steadied himself.

As he reached the flat door he checked himself over. His clothes were a little wet from walking out in the rain in them before the fight, but there was no sign on his body of the fight with the sea shifters, the sting on his cheek had already healed. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The flat was dark and quiet. It was late in the evening, but he wouldn't have expected Eva to be in bed just yet. He slipped quietly down the hall towards the bedroom.

A noise made his hairs rise up, it was a whimper, not unlike the sounds Eva made when they were being intimate. It troubled him, and he moved silently towards the bedroom door; it was ajar and low light seeped through the gap. Through it, Fire Talon could see movement and he heard footsteps on the carpeted floor.

He slowly pushed the door open and found Eva pacing slowly by the bed. She was alone and he mentally scolded himself for allowing any disturbing thoughts to enter his mind. Eva stood still suddenly and pressed her hands against the wall. Her breathing changed and she whimpered again. The whimper turned into a low hum and she rocked her hips.

It was happening, the baby was coming.

He felt panic rise in his chest, but he firmly pushed it down. He had read the books over her shoulder, he knew he couldn't bring fear into her space. He slipped quietly into the room, and waited for the contraction to end.

When it did, Eva turned to resume pacing, when she caught sight of him she didn't seem surprised.

'You knew I was here?' he whispered, a smile creeping onto his lips.

'Of course,' she replied, returning his smile.

'Why didn't you call me?'

'It's still early, Erik,' she chided him, using his human name, the only name she knew him by. 'It'll be hours yet.'

'Shall I run you a bath?' He felt he needed to do something useful.

'No thanks, I don't feel I can lie down. I might take a shower though.' Eva immediately stripped off her clothes and padded to the bathroom, leaving Fire Talon feeling redundant. He snapped to his senses and followed her. She had already started the shower running but he was there in time to help her step carefully into the bath.

'Do you want me to stay?' he asked quietly.

'Yes,' she said sharply. 'But don't talk.'

Fire Talon hid a smile. He knew he should expect her to snap at him during this, and a memory of something they had read tugged at him, something about it being bad to engage her neocortex.

He lit a few candles and closed the door, shutting out the lamp light from the bedroom. He sat down on the toilet seat and waited.

He watched Eva in awe. She sighed, hummed and rocked her hips. She was completely in tune with her body and her skin glowed in the candlelight. He saw such strength and at the same time such tenderness as she stroked her full belly and whispered to the baby, words even he couldn't make out over the sound of the running shower.

When Eva decided to leave the bathroom, he helped her out of the bath and wrapped a towel around her. The contractions were very close together now and seemed to be getting more intense. His fingers twitched over his phone and he wondered whether he should call the midwife. But Eva didn't ask him to, so he held off.

She knelt by the bed and rocked back and forth and he watched, feeling helpless and vulnerable. He wondered what was happening on the other side of the veil. What elementals would be gathering here, drawn to the birth? What would happen at the moment of birth when new life emerged?

It was late now, more time had passed than Fire Talon had realised and he felt the moment when Eva changed. She became restless and her breathing quickened, but she didn't panic. She was deep in her own world and her body was in control.

He moved closer to her and tentatively put a hand on her back. He looked into her face and saw silent tears falling.

'You are amazing,' he whispered.

She locked her eyes onto his and a look of fierce determination came across her face. She roared, taking him utterly by surprise. He had never loved her more as she roared new life into the world.

Eva reached down and held their baby's head in her hands, just as she had talked about doing. She sobbed tears of joy as the baby slithered out and Fire Talon quickly added his hands to the mix, touching their baby for the first time.

It was a moment of bliss and wonder, and he only realised later that he had been crying.

'It's a girl,' he whispered, full of joy and awe at what he had witnessed.

Eva laughed. She was flushed and her skin gleamed with sweat. She radiated life, and Fire Talon knew exactly what he would see on the other side of the veil, a new goddess coming into being.

The next few days were heaven. No phones. No visitors. Just the three of them. Fire Talon had sent messages to his pack and a few members of Odin's Warriors, informing them of the birth. One of his pack mates had slipped into the flat silently while his family slept the day after the birth and left a table full of freshly cooked meals, boxed for convenient reheating. It was probably Sleet. She was full of surprises.

A raven arrived at the window on the third day. He had to try to let it in through the kitchen window without alerting Eva in the bedroom. It squawked once and vomited up a rolled up piece of paper.

'Shh!' Fire Talon hissed at it as he hurriedly unrolled the message from Ragged Edge, one of the elders of Odin's Warriors.

I hear congratulations are in order. We would be honoured if you would join us to wet the baby's head tonight. The warehouse in Barrow Market, 8pm. All my love to the new mother,

R.E.

He grinned and tucked the note into a pocket. 'Tell him “yes”,' he told the bird, and with a distinct wink the raven hopped out of the window and took flight.

3

'We need you back with the pack,' Iron Sky said, his voice firm and commanding. 'It's been weeks, you're neglecting your duties.'

Fire Talon paced the boat shed, his hands clenched into fists. He wanted to lash out, hit something hard enough to punch right through it. He knew what he was supposed to do, he had been raised by his shifter kin, he'd seen others do it and always assumed that it would be easy to walk away from a child. But the reality was very different.

'I know you love them.' Storm Dancer spoke softly. 'But you know how this works. You can have them back later, when she is old enough to start learning our ways.'

'If Eva will let me,' he hissed. 'If I let them go now I may never see them again.'

'The storm is coming,' Iron Sky said, a low rumble of threat in his voice. 'It has already started. You heard the explosions? Just across the river in St. Mark's. That was only part of it. There are enemies out to the east who will soon sweep across Caerton like a plague, we know this to be true. The others may be preparing for that, but most of them don't care about what will come from the north, from the sea.'

'The city's seers know something, I am sure of it,' Sleet said with a snarl. 'I wish Lost was still with us, she would have seen something.'

The name hung on the air as the four of them spared a moment for their pack mate who had sacrificed so much for them. Fire Talon knew that his Alpha was right. There were threats all around them and his love for Eva and their baby was so strong that he had to do whatever it took to keep them safe. It would have been simpler if Eva had been of shifter blood, she would know what he was and what must be done. But he had fallen in love with a human.

That night he made his preparations and when he kissed them both good night it was good bye.

4

The winter was hard on the Storm Riders. More of Poseidon's chosen came ashore, they came in droves and the weather was severe. Fire Talon watched Eva and the baby from a safe distance, ensuring that they were protected. He saw the heartbreak, the tears on Eva's face when she ventured out, her friends coming and going. It was agony to watch and his guilt plagued his dreams as well as his waking hours. His pack were patient and encouraging. He was kept too busy to dwell much on what he had done, with almost nightly battles.

Iron Sky continued to issue warnings to the other alphas of Caerton, but as far as Fire Talon knew, he received no reply.

February arrived and the Danegeld came around, a huge ritual for all of Caerton's shifters. It was a chance to pay tribute to the Norse gods, to offer up sacrifices to appease them and bring peace and prosperity for the coming year. Many packs adorned themselves with decorations representing their fields of power and influence. The Storm Riders were no exception. They decorated themselves with treasures from the sea, Iron Sky carried a trident like Poseidon himself and Fire Talon wore a cloak with storm clouds and lightning printed on it.

The whole affair was a tradition belonging to Odin's Warriors, and it was they who had made all of the arrangements. He looked through the crowd for familiar faces, other Berserkers mainly, and greeted them warmly as brothers and sisters. He saw Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow with her pack and made a bee line for her. She spotted him too and gave him a broad grin before embracing him.

'How are you?' she asked him.

'I'm very well, thank you. You?'

'I'm great, thanks.'

Fire Talon took her by the elbow and led her to one side. He knew that of all his allies, she was the one most likely to listen.

'It's been a hard winter, I can't lie,' he said quietly. 'Something dark is coming. We have been fighting back hordes of walkers from the sea, the chosen of Poseidon, and it's been getting worse all winter. The storms have been unusually severe and I know that might be something your pack might understand.'

She looked concerned and nodded.

'Yes, of course. I can look into it, perhaps The-Lord-of-Storms-and-Rain can give us some information.'

'Thor? Thor is on your territory?' He was taken aback. The gods didn't normally interact with shifters at all.

'Yes, at the top of the telecoms tower. Best keep that one to yourself, I assumed others would know, but if not then it must be for a reason.' Stalker looked a little worried that she had said too much and Fire Talon gave her a reassuring smile.

'I won't mention it. But look, seriously, Iron Sky has tried to warn the other alphas, but no one is listening to him. They all think he's lost his mind. But these creatures from the sea are real and they're dangerous. But more worryingly, we're sure they're just the first wave of the offensive. There are worse things to come, and without the King-of-Glass-and-Steel, well, I don't fancy our chances.'

Stalker nodded solemnly.

'Okay, I absolutely take your caution seriously and I'll talk to my Alpha. Thank you for talking to me about it.'

'No problem. I honestly hope we're wrong by the way.' He tried to smile and she gave him a pat on the arm.

'Me too. Have a good night, okay?' she said, smiling affectionately.

'Yeah, for sure. You too.' He gave her another hug before heading back to his pack.

5

Spring finally found its way in to the city and as the days began to grow longer a calm settled over the coastal territory. Iron Sky didn't like it.

'It's the calm before the storm,' he said ominously on the third day with no sightings of the sea shifters.

'Clearly,' Fire Talon added. 'But still, I intend to take advantage of the respite.'

He jumped down from his wall-top watch post on the docks and headed towards the city. He made his way to his old flat and took up a position a little further down the road, sitting down on a bench and hiding behind a discarded old newspaper.

He sat for hours, waiting, but finally he was rewarded. Eva appeared from around a corner, wearing the baby in a sling on her chest. She was getting so big, he noticed, she jiggled her feet happily and Eva smiled down at her. Fire Talon longed to rush over to them, it burned him inside to stay away but he knew that it was for their protection.

He watched as Eva walked to the door of her building and retrieved her keys from a pocket. It was getting late, it would be dark soon and they would be going to bed. Fire Talon thought of them snuggled in bed together and imagined himself with them.

Anger flared up inside him and he threw the newspaper down before walking briskly away.

*

Fire Talon paced anxiously. Storm Dancer was supposed to meet him in the boat shed and she was an hour late. He went to the desk in the staff room and quickly wrote a note for her just in case she arrived.

I've gone to check the other side for you. I hope you get this message, FT.

He was nervous, very nervous and he crossed the veil into Hepethia knowing that he may never see his pack mate again. He left the shed and ran to the sea wall. The tide was low but the waves still reached half way up the wall. The sky was grey and he sensed rain was on its way. He had an odd feeling, something wasn't right.

There was a caw above and he looked up to see a raven circling. He only ever saw ravens when Odin or one of the Berserkers sent one as a messenger. He heard footsteps running towards him and wheeled around to see Iron Sky charging up the road towards him, Sleet not far behind.

'Come quickly!' Iron Sky yelled.

Fire Talon ran back to the dock and leaped down from the wall. It was never a good idea to yell in Hepethia and draw attention to oneself. He ran to meet his pack mates.

'What's going on?' he asked urgently. He glanced over Iron Sky's shoulder and saw a black shape against the clouds. It was moving quickly towards them, undulating and flexing. It wasn't a single object, but many hundreds of smaller ones. The sound that issued from it gave it away. It was a murder of crows.

'Take flight,' Iron Sky ordered.

Fire Talon nodded and leaped into the air, shifting seamlessly into his eagle form. It was foolish for a lone eagle to take on a murder this big, but he had to take to the air and do something if they were coming in for an attack. He rose at a sharp angle to get the height, soaring up higher than the approaching crows. He had a size advantage, but there were hundreds of them, they could easily swarm him.

He took a moment to look around and assess the situation. There was the oncoming murder of crows, but he saw something out to sea that troubled him far more. The Dreadnought was steaming rapidly out to sea towards a cluster of strange, dark shapes emerging from the water just near the horizon. Fire Talon didn't have time to get a closer look, the crows were seconds away and began their descent towards Iron Sky and Sleet.

He swooped over them and dove into the swarm. He snatched two of the crows in his massive talons, crushing them instantly. The birds erupted in a foul chorus of caws and dispersed suddenly. A moment later they had reformed and circled around to attack Fire Talon. He ducked underneath them and quickly swooped to the back of the murder. He came up behind them and snatched another two in his talons, crushing them and dropping them to the ground.

Below, Iron Sky and Sleet were racing towards the docks. Fire Talon ducked under the crows and circled them, following his grounded pack mates. He could see something in the water by the sea wall and as he got closer he could hear a knocking sound as it bumped against the stone each time it was brought back in on a wave. He flew towards it, taking out as many crows as he could on his way.

Swooping low over the sea, Fire Talon saw what it was and a sickening sensation settled in his gut. It was Storm Dancer's staff. Anger swelled in him and he forced his way through the centre of the murder, crashing into many and crushing more in his talons. He soared higher and looked out to sea, searching for her body. She had to still be alive, he hadn't felt the bond with her break.

As he searched, the black shapes further out to sea caught his eye and they were now approaching the shore. His eagle eyes afforded him a clear view of them and as recognition dawned he was filled with dread. They were wrecked ships, resurrected from their graves. Dozens of them were being forced up to the surface, and they moved swiftly towards the coast.

Fire Talon gave a warning cry and swooped down through the crows, killing as many as he could on his way. They pecked at him and one of his wings was grabbed by one crow who didn't let go. He shook his wing with all his might but the crow clung tightly with its claws and beak.

As Fire Talon neared the ground he shifted into his human form and landed hard, his knees buckled and slammed into the ground. The crow squawked and released his arm, which fell limp to his side. Deep cuts covered his skin and blood poured from them, some chunks of flesh were missing. He spared a moment to look at it and wince before lurching to his feet and running towards Iron Sky and Sleet, who were doing their best to fight off the aerial assault.

'Ships!' he yelled, breathless.

Iron Sky looked out to sea and his face fell.

The crows gave one sharp caw before suddenly swarming together and shooting up into the sky and away inland. The three shifters stood still for a moment, watching them fly away.

A loud honk from the sea grabbed their attention. The Dreadnought was steaming swiftly out to meet the oncoming ghost ships. A moment later the cannons started firing. The great booms echoed for miles and the Storm Riders watched as their patron managed to sink the first of the oncoming ships.

Fire Talon's arm was healing quickly and he flexed his fingers to restore sensation to them. He looked around to assess the immediate surroundings. The crows had disappeared but out of the water a few shambling sea shifters were emerging. He nodded in their direction, and the three Storm Riders ran to the beach to head them off.

As he leaped down from the road onto the pebbles below, Fire Talon caught sight of a small animal pressed against the wall, it was a cat and at once he realised that it was Storm Dancer in her cat form. He ran to her and crouched to examine her. She was unconscious and limp, but still breathing. It was odd that she had not slipped back into her human form, as usually happened to their kind upon falling unconscious. She had a deep wound on her flank and her fur was matted with blood.

'Why aren't you healing?' he muttered, knowing she couldn't reply. 'I'll come back to you as soon as I can, I promise.' He gave her a gentle stroke then turned and ran towards the fight that had begun without him.

There were hordes of them coming now, more than he had seen before. He shifted to his Agrius form and began attacking them. His bestial fists smashed through soft flesh, ripped heads from necks and his talons tore through stray tentacles. He took on a dozen or more, barely taking a hit. The others were doing well too and they held the beach against the onslaught.

In the distance, the Dreadnought fired relentlessly, but some of the resurrected ships had cannons of their own and they returned fire. Fire Talon was just vaguely aware of the relentless explosions; he was occupied with three sea shifters. In amongst the cacophony was a terrible ripping sound as an ancient cannonball tore through steel, and the Dreadnought was split in two.

Fire Talon came to a stuttering halt as he felt his connection to his pack patron break. He looked around frantically and saw the front half of the mighty battleship going under. The back half tipped over slowly before being dragged under.

'No!' he roared with what little vocal ability he had in this form.

He had no chance to pause though, sea shifters were everywhere, surrounding him and his pack mates. Iron Sky was wielding his great sword, cutting them down just fast enough to avoid them taking him out. Sleet ducked and weaved around lashing tentacles and poisonous teeth, but she wasn't fast enough and Fire Talon felt it when she was cut down, sliced in two by a serrated fin.

Stings covered Fire Talon and something took a bite out of his leg, causing him to buckle and fall to his knees. Tentacles caught his wrists and something slithered up behind him and held him by his neck. His body started shifting back into his human form against his will, some effect of one of the poisons he had been stung with.

There was a clattering sound as Iron Sky's sword fell to the pebbles, his wrist caught by a tentacle too. Fire Talon watched in horror as a large, sea shifter with ugly, pointed fins for hands loped towards the Alpha and swiftly gutted him.

For the first time, Fire Talon saw intelligence and coordination in these vile creatures. A shadow fell across the beach and he looked up to see one of the drowned ships drawing close, too close for such shallow waters. But these ghost ships did not obey the normal laws of physics, any more than any creature of Hepethia did. It grounded itself just a few feet from Fire Talon and he shuddered, it exuded fear and power.

His pack mates were gone, he could feel Storm Dancer slipping away too. Lost was still there on the periphery, just as she always was. Alive, and vaguely connected to the pack, but no longer one of them. She had sacrificed her entire identity in exchange for information. That knowledge had changed the Storm Riders forever, it led them away from the other shifters of Caerton, knowing that they could no longer trust the motivations of an unknown enemy moving amongst them. They had also learned what was coming from the east, the army amassing just beyond the city. Here it was, the first open assault of the great war with the Furies.

He felt despair seeping into every muscle as he hung there, restrained by these foul sea creatures. Movement from the grounded ship caught his eye and he squinted to see what it was. There was someone on board and they were coming ashore. The figure swung on a wet and scaly rope and slid nimbly down onto the beach, landing with a crunch in front of him. The figure was shrouded in dark shadow from the looming ship, but Fire Talon smelled shifter blood, one of his own kind.

'This isn't the Alpha,' a cool voice stated with derision. 'I told you to save me the leader. No matter.'

Fire Talon twisted against his restraints, confusion filling his mind. He wanted a better look at this shifter, whose scent he couldn't make out over the stench of the sea shifters all around them but whose voice was all too familiar. The figure drew closer, almost nose to nose with him and his face and scent became clear. Fire Talon groaned.

'I should have known it would be you,' he snarled. 'Why do this? Why take us out?'

'You know my plans. It's only a matter of time before the others start believing you. Don't worry,' the dark figure said softly. 'I won't draw this out. I just need a little of your living blood.' He sliced into Fire Talon's forearm with a sharp claw and caught the blood that trickled from the cut in a small vial. 'Sleep now, brave brother.'

'You are no brother of mine,' Fire Talon spat.

He felt the blade enter his chest and his breath caught in his throat. Everything stopped. There was no sound, no movement and nothing in his mind but one thing, one last word on his dying lips. His daughter's name. 'Freya.'

'Clean this mess up!' barked the voice. 'I want no trace of any of this business.'

Fire Talon fell to the floor and then there was nothing but silence and shadow.

About the Author

H. B. Lyne has always lived close to the dark side, never quite mastering the ability to force choke, but contemplating it during dark times. Black eye liner was a permanent fixture in her bag or back pocket during the goth years. Lighter moments have included a fascination with unicorns and firm belief in faeries well into adulthood. Jotting down these observations in multiple forms has always been a habit.

Juggling bean bags, fluffy poi and an adult-weighted hula hoop have all had their brief place in recreation, but all are now consigned to the land of lost treasures/box room. These days, when not chasing two chaotic munchkins around, Holly somehow engineers time to write fantasy.

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- H. B. Lyne

Other Titles in the Series:

Seeds of Autumn

Ghosts of Winter

Tides of Spring

Coming Soon, the final instalment of

Echoes of the Past