Chapter 119

Rain blinked in the light and then slowly rose to his full height, his full height, completely and entirely visible to anyone looking, a hulking nine foot five.

“Hey, uh, wolfy, kinda noticeable right now, just saying...” said Opal, one eyebrow raised.

Rain turned to Lyra and set his lips in a line finding her still unconscious. She’d clearly gone far over her limit and was suffering the backlash, which was a problem because who knew when she would regain consciousness. Opal crouched down and experimentally poked her. The sheep girl let out a snore in reply and then promptly continued snoring. It was surprisingly loud.

Rain gave the sleeping sheep a dismayed look, then his eyes darted around the alley. By some luck it seemed that there had been no one near enough to hear the screams, or at least no one who had heard them and wanted to investigate.

But that didn’t make him any less exposed, it would only take one leveler to stumble upon him then run shouting for help and levelers would soon be magnetically drawn in. First a trickle, then a stream then a flood, as all the levelers in the area who wanted to level came like moths to a flame.

He couldn’t fight the city, which meant he needed to hide, and quickly.

His eyes darted to the tall walls and the nearest door. Most of the doors of the alley seemed small, but this one was larger and away from the others, a double door, in fact he was sure he was looking at some kind of warehouse.

Without hesitation he lunged for it and grabbed the handle. Locked. He tried to pull on it but the metal handle immediately snapped off the door and was crushed flat in his pads. Not good. Frustrated now, he pressed against the door, trying to force it open. The doors were promptly ripped off their hinges and crashed down against the floor inside, sliding across the flagstones in a scatter of dust.

Rain growled in vexation but didn’t pause to grab up Lyra’s limp body and then Opal and then duck inside.

The space was pitch black dark, lacking windows, motes of dust suspended in the beam of light that spilt through the broken down entrance. Yes, this place would do.

He found the warehouse seemingly empty, disused? Only a few huge crates were scattered across the flagstones and amongst the heavy support columns that disappeared into the gloom and rafters above.

He carefully arranged the sheep girl against one of the crates, getting Opal to fetch her spare clothing she kept in the dimensional bag then rolling them up to use as a neck pillow.

Once satisfied she was comfortable he stepped away to investigate the warehouse, checking to see if there were any levelers hiding nearby. He wasn’t going to take for granted its abandonment.

Opal was left crouched by Lyra. The Goblin gave her an impatient look, the sheep girl had her head lolled to the side, mouth parted, openly snoring with a spot of drool on her cheek.

She was ... a little adorable to see like that, even Opal had to admit that, and she dabbed the drool away with one of Lyras spare shirts. She quickly glanced around to make sure no one had seen her do such a thing.

It was as she was peering into the dark wondering if she’d seen movement that voices echoed from outside. A lot of voices.

Dismayed. She turned to the door, shadows of figures moving across the cobble just visible through the rectangular entrance.

“Well, where are they?”

“Not here.”

“Amazing observation skills, no really, how did you figure that one out.”

“Not here.” grunted back the same voice

There came an exasperated sigh, “look, they either bagged their mark or they didn’t. We got our head, they’ll have to deal with the consequences of fucking off-

“What if they took her head and went to claim the bounty themselves?” came a third voice.

The first voice paused before replying, “No, far too cowardly, they’re well aware what happens if someone goes sideways on us.”

“You’re wrong, look, this blood here doesn’t tell us all we need to know?” the third voice insisted. “They killed the half and then fled. They figured they got the real deal and are going to claim the Fifty K.”

“Blood?” came the first voice, then a moment of silence, “This ... isn’t enough blood from a decapitation, or a blade wound ... and it’s in long ragged lines, and these ... these are broken fingernails, someone was dragged against there will here.”

More silence followed that.

“The half woollie?”

“You think they’d bother keeping her alive? No, something happened here, I can feel it.”

“Pipe down a sec, I think I hear something.”

The voices outside fell dead silent and Opal’s eyes widened as she realised that Lyra was snoring loudly enough to be heard. She slapped her hands over the sheep girl’s mouth, then nose as the noise didn’t stop. A muffled but determined snore continued behind her hands.

It was all too late. The shadows in the light outside approached the door.

“This door was broken down, broken down by force, the lads must have come through here, or more likely than not are still inside.”

The light was blocked by one of the figures and Opal’s eyes adjusted until she could see them. It was a half-human half-Lapine. Tall scarred ears emerging from lank black hair above a pale face. The tall figure strode into the warehouse and narrowed his eyes, ears twitching irritably. A brown leather bag was tied at his hip, the leather shaped around the head contained inside and outlining a nose, a chin. The outside of the bag was smeared with hastily wiped away gore.