Page 8 of Ryld's Shadows
Cress looked at him a moment longer, then let go of the cart. Ryld hurried to pay for the items, and they left the store.
Ryld had lived underground his entire life. He had seen above ground only a few times at night. Descending into a tunnel was the most natural thing in the world, and yet going down the stairs to board the subway made all the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, a growl waited to rumble in his chest, and the shadows darted about with anticipation.
The powerful reek of the tunnels alone was enough to scrape along his nerves. The press of bodies and shouts and laughter of people competed with the head rattling noise of the trains. His senses were battered before they even reached the platform. His hands itched to cover his ears, and he desperately wanted to close his eyes, but that was dangerous. His heart was beating fast and hard as they boarded, and the deep breaths he took did not seem to help him get any air into his lungs.
“Keep it together, Ryld,” Cress said firmly. “You’re okay. Everything is fine.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with him?” a passenger asked.
“Nothing. He’s fine,” Cress said, grabbing Ryld’s arm.
The grip was hard and unexpected, and Ryld pulled away without thinking. Cress took his arm again and pushed him forward. A woman in front of him unexpectedly stopped at the same time, and Ryld ran into her.
“Watch it!” she snapped.
Sound disappeared. There was nothing but the drumming in his ears. His vision was rapidly narrowing. Oh no. There was about to bea scene. It was his last coherent thought.
* * * *
For Ryld, losing control was not the bad part. He rarely remembered anything after crossing a certain point. The bad part came after. It was disorientating to be on the subway train one moment, with his bags of shopping, surrounded by people and loudness and foul air, Cress’ sharp tone in his ear and hard hand shaking him. The next moment all was quiet and dark. There were no bags in his hand, no people and loud noise, no subway train.
His sight returned first. He was outside. He lay curled on his side, a damp piece of cardboard under him. The sun was down. He did not recognize anything around him. Sound returned next. A hum of traffic, people talking as they walked, music escaping the confines of a restaurant. The rest of his senses all turned on, the ache of cold seeping into his bones, small pains in his arms and larger ones in his body. The alleyway he lay in smelled of rot, garbage and urine.
Shadows moved in erratic darting dances at the corners of his vision. They had no form, no substance, just transparent shapes of darkness. That was good. Perhaps none of them had broken free this time. His stomach tightened and a sourness coated his tongue at the thought that he was probably wrong. At least he hoped that whatever havoc his beasts had caused had not caused anyone serious harm. The fact that he was alone was worrying.
He had escaped Cress’ care, which meant Cress had either let him run because he had no choice, or Cress had become too injured to follow him. He hoped it was the former. The beasts were extremely difficult to kill, although kill wasn’t the correct term because they were never really alive. Independent of him they were mindless and ruthless, viciously attacking anyone near them, bent on destruction and ruin. They could not be reasoned with, and weapons did not hurt them. Magic was the only thing that could destroy them.
Ryld pushed himself up to sitting. His clothing was dirty and damp. He hurt, but not so badly he thought anything was broken. His hands were dirty too, but only with grime, not blood. One of his shoes was missing. His foot was bleeding. With one thumb he touched the wound, then brought the blood up to touch above his heart, then the ground. Blood was a powerful offering and must not be wasted…the words came back to him from long ago. He believed blood was powerful. He had been bleeding when he’d made the offering that opened the sky and brought him from his home to this new world. He had wished to be free from his tormentors then, and here he was.Should I wish for something now?
He didn’t always. Sometimes when his blood ran, he simply gave it freely.What would I ask for?He closed his eyes. He was lonely, but he knew better than to ask for companionship. Cress was a companion. He didn’t hate Cress, but he would not have chosen to spend time with him. Sometimes Cress made him feel even lonelier, though how that could be when he was not alone he didn’t understand. There was so much he didn’t understand. He wouldn’t want to understand everything, though. If he understood everything, there would be nothing left to explore. That would be intolerable. But…he did wish someone, anyone, could understandhim.Yes. That was a good wish for the offering of blood.I wish there was someone who could understand me.He wiped the last trace of his blood onto the dirty pavement.
He stood. The dampness made him shiver with cold. He smelled of fear and the reeking alleyway. The street was not familiar, so he chose a direction. Time passed. He didn’t know how long. Finally he saw buildings he knew. Home was still a long way to walk, but AURA was close. It would be safe to rest there.
He didn’t have an appointment. He knew that, even if he didn’t know the day. Counseling appointments happened when the sun was up. He did not have an emergency. At least he didn’t think he had an emergency. He stood in the center of the lobby. If he didn’t have an emergency, what should he say to the AURA officers?
He was still trying to decide when the elevator doors on the far wall opened and a small group came out, talking, laughing. Their smiles died and their laughter cut off when one of them saw him. An aelfe.
“Hello? Are you all right?”
“I don’t have an emergency.”
The aelfe, a blond one, offered a puzzled smile. “Okay. That’s good to hear. But you don’t look too good there, bud.”
Ryld looked down at his clothes. “I am not clean, no.”
“It’s all right. I mean, it will be.” The aelfe reached out a hand but didn’t touch. “I’m Officer Flax. Did you want to come up to medical? Have someone check you over?”
“No, I don’t want to.” He paused. “But that’s irresponsible. I don’t know what happened to my minder.”
That seemed to give the aelfe pause. The human officer behind him, who had been checking his phone, murmured something in Officer Flax’s ear. The aelfe’s eyes widened.
“Oh. Got it.” His smile seemed a little strange when he turned back to Ryld. “What’s your name, bud?”
Ryld blinked at him, though he should have given his name in return since the officer had. “Ryld.”
“Good. That’s good.” Officer Flax swept a hand toward the elevators. “We’re supposed to get you up to Counseling if we see you. People have been looking for you, you know. Lysander probably knows what happened to your…minder.”
He was speaking slowly, more carefully than he had a moment before. It was always a strange thing to see—how just because a person didn’t understand him, they assumed he wouldn’t understand them. At least he wasn’t afraid, or hostile. The human next to him, however, he was suddenly afraid.
