Beyond the Gate

Chapter 12

Orick woke at the doorway to the store, his vision blurred. He could smell the cobbled roads thick with dust and tiny flakes of dried manure from sheep and some other animal, and Orick wished that he could stand up and walk on his hind feet, put a little distance between himself and that unclean scent.

A whistle blew, and its sound was a cold wind that froze Orick to the heart.

The Inhuman, Orick remembered. The hair on the back of his neck bristled, and Orick opened his eyes, spotted Maggie in a patch of moonlight, lying on her back in the street, corpses stacked around her. A tall fellow hunched over her, holding what looked to be a broad dagger at her throat.

Orick lay for just a moment, and suddenly there was a shout from down the street, the way they had come. Two forms moved in the shadows-one was the familiar shape of the Bock, the other was a giant, and they were running, but they were too far away to help Maggie before the villain could cut her throat.

Orick jumped up and charged, digging his claws into the floor planks for all the purchase he could get, bounding forward so that parts of a broad wooden door were flung away from him. Orick roared, and the fellow glanced up from Maggie, then fled down the road, between two buildings. Orick lunged after him, and the fellow grunted and zigzagged into the shadows.

A giant bat swooped in front of Orick, trying to distract him, and Orick stood up, swatted at the creature, catching a corner of its wing. The bat veered away clumsily.

Orick was so angry he felt as if he were invulnerable, as if he could run forever, and he continued to chase Maggie’s attacker, rushing till he could nearly take the man’s neck in his teeth.

The fellow glanced over his back, shouted “No!” and, in a burst of redoubled speed, made it around a corner and jumped over a high wall. Orick came up short against the wall, knowing he couldn’t make it, and decided that it was best to go care for Maggie.

He rushed through the streets to Maggie, found her on her back, holding some strange insect in her hand, keeping it at a distance. Her face was pale, frightened. The giant and the Bock stood over her, gasping for breath.

“What is that thing?” Orick asked. The insect was mantis-like in appearance, but its front legs were oversized. Maggie had them pinched firmly.

“I’m not sure,” Maggie said. “It looks like a machine, but I’m not sure what it does.”

“That is an Inhuman’s Word,” the giant said in a deep voice, taking the thing from Maggie’s fingers and smashing it. “It turns a man into an Inhuman. You had better watch out. There might be more.”

The giant immediately began dusting off Maggie’s back while watching for the bugs on the street.

When he was sure she was clean, Maggie retrieved Gallen’s sword. One of the insects was there beneath it. It began to scurry over the cobblestones, so she swatted it with the flat of the sword. After more searching, she decided there had only been two Words. Up the street from them, that damned batlike creature had made it to the top of a building, and it blew its whistle in three sharp bursts.

Maggie looked up at the giant bat. “Shut off the whistling already, damn you!” she shouted. “If any more of your black-hearted friends come around, we’ll give them just what we gave the others!”

The scout looked down at them in the moonlight, his eyes glowing golden. He growled, “You’ll pay for dessstroying the Wordsss.” He let his whistle dangle from a chain about his neck, glared at Maggie for a moment, rubbed his face with the little black hands at the joint of his wings, then hurled himself from the building, swooping just over their heads.

Orick wished that Maggie had been carrying a stick or something. One good knock on the head would have busted the creature’s skull open like an acorn.

“I am sorry that I got back so late,” the Bock told them, waving its arms emphatically. “When we reached the meadow, you had already left. We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Maggie shook her head. “No harm done,” she said, hefting her packs. “Let’s go.” They began hurrying north, but the Bock was striding along slowly. The giant walked ahead, leading the way, his huge sword in hand. He stopped at each side street, checking both ways.

“Can you hurry?” Maggie said, trying to help the Bock along by pulling at its arm. “I’m sorry,” the Bock said. “I have no energy after dark. There were huge clouds at sunset, and it slowed us. I should have found you long ago!” Orick looked at the creature-half man, half plant. They could not leave it behind, and they could hardly wait for the thing to move at its own pace. Maggie was sweating heartily from her fight, from her fear. She looked at Orick a moment. “Orick, could you have a go at giving him a ride?”

Orick considered. His ears were ringing, and he felt woozy from the bump on his head, but he could probably carry the man. Still, just because he had four legs, it didn’t mean he’d let people treat him like a pack mule. “All right,” he grumbled, “but it’s undignified.”

Maggie helped the creature on. Orick ran with Maggie at his tail, and they managed to make good time with the giant leading the way. They were running into the wind, and once Orick smelled the fresh scent of strangers ahead. Orick called to the giant, then turned aside, lurching off around several blocks, certain that he’d avoided an ambush. As if to prove his point, moments later he heard excited whistling behind him as the batlike scout realized what had happened. Just then, the giant had Orick duck into a little side alley that led to a warehouse, and within moments they were inside.

Maggie closed the door tight behind her, threw the bolt home, and sagged against it in the dark. There were no lanterns, no lights in the building at all, and the dark was utterly impenetrable. Orick half turned. He could smell her warm sweat, and she was breathing hard, as much from fright as from the exertion. He couldn’t smell any other people in the hall, though Gallen had passed here shortly. There would be no ambush waiting ahead of them.

“Orick?” Maggie said. “Where are you?”

“Here,” he grumbled.

“Come here, where I can touch you.”

Orick ambled to her, and Maggie petted his snout affectionately. It was one of the most intimate pettings she had ever given him, and he closed his eyes, relishing the way she scratched him. He groaned with pleasure, and Maggie bent down and kissed him full on the snout. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re welcome at my table anytime. You really saved me.”

And at those kind words, Orick’s heart warmed. He led Maggie, the giant, and the Bock down the maze of twisted halls in something of a blur, until he got to a door. He could see candlelight winking through the cracks, and the Bock called out softly for Gallen.

Gallen slid the bolt, pulled the door open, and at sight of the blood on Orick’s face he cried, “What happened to you?”

Maggie told them then of their skirmish with the servants of the Inhuman, and Ceravanne frowned and paced the room, then had Gallen and Rougaire check Orick and Maggie for neck wounds.

When she was satisfied, Ceravanne shook her head, plainly worried. “I had hoped to wait here for a few days so that we could provision our trip at our ease, receive counsel from the Lords in the City of Life. But we will have to leave first thing in the morning.”

“Why?” Orick asked.

“Their scout has your scent,” Ceravanne said. “It will call its fellows, and by dawn there may be a dozen or more of them hunting for you and Maggie. The Inhuman will not hold harmless those who have slain its members. We must flee at dawn.”

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