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Chapter 1
Whispered words attempting to lure unsuspecting or unprepared travelers floated in the air. The Shade, the barren wasteland which constituted the borderland between the city of Agartha and the Veil at the Wall, never ceased to torment and trick those who ventured inside.
This included the werewolf who now lived in, or guarded, or both, a derelict house near the Shade’s border. It wasn’t far inside the yellow-pale darkness, but it was enough. He rummaged around inside the house, somehow having procured electricity that hadn’t given out in the inhospitable environment. Few things remained stable inside the Shade, including energy.
A Ghost followed the werewolf, watching him, smelling him, assessing him. He was a big one, even for werewolves, but he was also young and clearly impatient by his abrupt and erratic movements. He walked back and forth inside the house, up and down between floors, not even bothering not to be seen through the broken windows.
Nadia Navarra considered all this as she haunted the beast. He didn’t know it yet, but he was soon to have a visitor, and a visit from one of the Queen’s Ghosts these days was not to be desired. The Ghosts were at war with everyone who swore allegiance to Kassemyr Temedius and his followers, and that war was fought quietly and violently in the shadows. The final battle was yet to come. Before that,allof the Queen’s guards needed to be present and accounted for.
They also needed the right weapons.
Which was why Nadia was stalking this werewolf.
She slipped around the house, looking for the best entrance while remaining unseen. The Shade tugged at the edges of her mind, but years as a Wraith working in there, made the Shade simple business for her. That was more than could be said for the werewolf inside. Her enhanced hearing alerted her to the fact that he was muttering to himself. The sound escaped easily through the broken windows.
“Don’t understand why …” Shuffling noises interrupted the words. “It’s a test … I’ll show them … I’ll show them … I’m worthy … Don’t understand …”
Nadia stopped and listened, but the werewolf wasn’t the only one who couldn’t make sense of anything. She had no idea what was troubling him beyond the Shade, and she didn’t have time or compassion considering who he was working for.
The werewolf had betrayed his kind and his city.
Nadia decided to go in via the roof. She wore her Anemoi newt amulet, already activated and working to conceal any noise she made except her voice. The new stash of bland asphodel was also helping since the werewolf inside couldn’t be altered by her scent.
The Ghosts had been working hard the last three weeks since they’d finally listened to Nadia and Harmiston and moved a large and vital part of their operation from Fallen Oaks in the Earthside Realm back to Agartha. They lived in secret and operated unseen. But they got things done now. Waiting for another realm to step in and help was proving to be a time-consuming diplomatic nightmare the citizens of Agartha didn’t have time for. They were regularly rounded up for ‘voluntary’ blood donations for the vampires and the hybrids. The latter group regularly also lost control in their feeding frenzy, making sure some people never returned from ‘donating’.
No one ever had to answer for those kills.
Kassemyr didn’t care. So why should his followers?
Nadia spotted a few easy handholds up the wall and started her climb. A few seconds later, she was up on the roof of the three-story house. From there, she entered via a narrow window in the roof, which in turn led her into the attic. It barely had more height under the ceiling than a crawl space.
The place was dusty, moldy, and messy. Most of the old furniture which had once been stored up there had begun decaying. The Shade could do that to most things. It didn’t truly follow any natural laws when it came to dead or inanimate things. This was why some houses broke down fast when engulfed in the Shade, and others crumbled slowly over decades.
Nadia moved quietly despite her magical protection, navigating by her innate night vision and the sounds of the werewolf moving around downstairs. She did not want to alert him to her presence before she was in a suitable position.
With no hurry, she moved down to the second floor. There she waited, making sure the werewolf had returned to the ground floor before she took the stairs down.
A knock on the door had her halt her movements mid stairs.
The muttering of the werewolf stopped too, and three seconds went by before Nadia heard him walking across the floor down there. She had no idea who would visit him out here, but couldn’t risk being spotted on the stairs should he and his guest come upstairs.
She hurried down the last steps and entered what had once been a bedroom, judging by the long heap of broken wood near one wall. It paid off to have spied on the werewolf for a while and getting to know the layout before entering herself. Nadia estimated the room to be above the kitchen, the room nearest the front door downstairs. She made sure to open the broken window for an easy escape before she eyed a crack in the floor. She bent down by it when she heard voices floating up from below.
“… how long?” the werewolf asked.
“Calm yourself, Tresson.” It was an all too familiar voice that reached Nadia’s perceptive ears. She frowned but was in no doubt Darrow had just walked in the front doors down there. This was nothing but the last proof that her intel had led her the right way. She’d had to go through one werewolf and one vampire to find this place. It was said to contain something she was looking for. She knew it was only luck that Kassemyr didn’t use his powerful hybrids for such tasks as guarding equipment. It was also a foolish error on his part.
Darrow coming here, though, wasn’t only a strong indication of this being the right place, it was also a danger. She couldn’t risk being found out by him, so she remained immobile, ready to bolt the moment she was found out, but until then, listened to everything the two below her said.
“I need to know how much longer, Trecandís,” the werewolf, Tresson, pleaded.
Darrow paused for a moment, clearly not too fond of that name, yet he didn’t comment on it either. “I hear the fear in your voice,” Darrow said.
“I’m not afraid!” The indignation and rage at the suggestion in Tresson’s voice were palpable. “I just don’t understand why I was banished here.”
“Your big mouth, as I recall.”
“I was only joking.”
