6

The door to the Hunter's passage slammed shut behind Rayce as he stumbled forward, and he whirled around to break it down. A blank concrete wall stared back at him with no hint of a doorway.

"No. No!" Rayce pounded his fists against the smooth surface and then flattened his hands, feeling for a seam, a hidden trigger, anything that might let him get back to Zeke. He felt nothing but mounting fear for his tutor.

He stepped back, tears of frustration threatening to spill over, and he worked to steady his breathing. Above him, an orange light cast its glow disinterestedly down on him, cutting through the darkness. He appeared to be in some sort of alleyway in the Mundane world. As he roughly forced his mind to quiet its rising panic, he recalled one of Bael's lectures about the Wild Hunt. Their entrances into the Courts could only be opened by one of those who rode the wild winds of the skies and owed their allegiance to the Hunt. There would be no way back to the Court for him from here. But how long did Zeke have?

Dread settled heavily into Rayce's stomach as he was faced with the enormity of the task ahead of him. He didn't know the Mundane world. He didn't know where to find another entrance. And he didn't know what had happened to his family. His breathing accelerated again as he looked around the alley as if searching for answers amid the trash. The faint scent of feline urine wafted from the opposite wall. To his right, the alley was dark. To his left, it opened onto a street. It was concrete and brick everywhere. He felt sick. He sank down with his back against the wall and ducked his head between his knees. This wasn't happening. This wasn't real.

Rayce lost track of the time as he sat there trying to think of what he could do to get back to the Court. Bitter laughter escaped his lips as he realized he that had spent the last seven years wishing he could leave, and now all he wanted was to get back. Zeke's parting words echoed in his mind, fac fortis et patere. Do brave deeds and endure. He'd been telling Rayce that since he was eight years old and he had first discovered his ability. His hands tightened as he imagined what Zeke may be enduring even now. What would Zeke think of him feeling sorry for himself in an alley?

Light blazed from the darkness deeper in the alley as a monstrous truck roared to life, engine coughing and barking before catching. Rayce was caught in its headlights and he threw up his hand to shield his eyes from the glare. He scrambled to his feet as the truck rolled forward and he snatched up the pack Zeke had given him. The alley was narrow, and he slipped backwards, closer to the street. He would have to leave.

Baelerithon had given him an understanding of Mundanes and their lifestyle, but hearing about it, seeing a few hand-drawn sketches as they talked over the desk in the study, could not compare to the enormity of what he was seeing now. Great glass towers stretched up into the night sky overhead and vehicles were parked bumper to bumper on both sides of the street. Mundanes walked quickly along the sidewalks, alone or in groups, talking loudly to each other, or seemingly to themselves. A street sign proclaimed this to be Grand Trunk Crescent, but it didn't feel grand at all, and if a great tree had lent its name to the street once, the trunk was long gone.

A Mundane woman caught sight of him and slowed, her mouth falling open. He wore the loose-fitting dark clothing that he often wore at home for training. His shock of white hair occasioned little comment in the Courts, where it was just as likely to see greens and blues clashing with pinks and purples, but here it seemed to set him apart. Even just his physical stature drew the eye, strongly built and well-formed. He met the Mundane's eyes with his own piercing green gaze and he watched in amazement as her eyes rolled up and she collapsed onto the concrete.

Part of him wanted to run, but he felt badly about the Mundane. He crossed the distance that separated them and knelt down, working one of his arms under her knees and the other behind her neck.

"Hey, mister! Get away from her!" Rayce threw a glance back over his shoulder and found a dark-skinned male youth approaching him cautiously. He sighed quietly, but left the woman where she was. He rose and turned to face the teenager, hands held up non-threateningly.

"The lady collapsed. I was only concerned for her welfare and did not wish to leave her laying in the walkway, friend. I meant no harm."

The boy's eyes were locked on something over Rayce's shoulder, though, and it didn't seem as though he had even heard the apology.

"Are you some kinda cosplayer, man? That's a pretty awesome looking staff. Can I take a selfie with you?" Inwardly, Rayce groaned. This was more than he had bargained for, and now he was wondering if a cosplayer was what Mundanes called Faeries here.

Before he could respond, a handful of shadows detached themselves from the mouth of the alley where Rayce had emerged, led by a tall figure with long green hair. His eyes widened. Kylea. The youth saw Rayce's reaction and turned around to see what was behind him that could cause so much horror.

Rayce whipped his staff over his shoulder in half a heartbeat, thrusting his arm through the second strap of the pack, and shifted forward, placing himself between the shadows and the boy. He heard a low exclamation of, "Awesome!" behind him as he moved to intercept his pursuers.

"Brother," Kylea hissed with pleasure. The shadows at her sides twisted and shifted, sometimes taking form long enough for Rayce to recognize Unseelie assassins for what they were. What would they be doing with his sister? She flicked her wrists, her trademark batons snapping into her waiting hands. Rayce could see streaks of blood in the orange glow of their enchantment.

Some of the shadow assassins slipped behind Rayce, and his sister fell back a few paces, letting them surround him. He had never faced so many like this before. From opposite sides, two of the Unseelie shadows slashed forward with long whips that crackled with dark-purple energy. He brought up the steelwood staff and whirled it quickly, catching the lashes with the shaft and spinning to yank them from their owners' grips.

Shooting pain raced up his hands from the staff and he was blasted backwards off his feet, magic sparking like electricity and causing his muscles to jerk wildly. The youth was still standing on the sidewalk, holding up a small black device the looked like a Sensor and was aiming it at Rayce. Searching for demonic activity? Now? He used his backwards momentum to continue propelling himself farther away from the circle of enemies, breaking away even faster as he regained his feet and balance.

The pack bounced along against his back as he ran toward the busier street ahead, and he barely spared a glance upward at the massive tower that rose up in front of him. Signs reading 'C.N. Tower' pointed in its direction. He ran flat-out into the line of cars, staff still gripped in his right hand, and he vaulted over the first vehicle in his path. Mid-jump, he shifted forward to clear the next three lanes of traffic, moving straight ahead toward a cavern marked as 'Parking'.

Rayce ducked under a bar and burst into Parking, eyes searching left and right for somewhere to lose his pursuers. He shifted forward dozens of times to create more of a lead on them and to make it more difficult for them to track him. The realm of Parking descended deeper into the earth and he followed the twisting ramps in fits and starts. Perhaps an entrance back to the Courts could be found down here.

A whip cracked through the air and Rayce felt its length wrap around his throat, coiling many times, and his hands flew to it automatically. No shock followed, and he gathered himself to shift away from the hold, still searching for his attacker. How did they catch up so quickly!

Nothing happened. Zeke had trained him extensively to revert back to a regular fighting style if his gift was disabled, and he dropped his staff to lock one hand onto the leading edge of the whip, pulling it toward him viciously to bring his attacker in range.

"Fac fortis et patere!" A female voice cried as his hands closed around her throat. He stopped in amazement.

A woman stood before him, one hand clutching the handle of her whip in a white-knuckled grip, the other clapped over his own to prevent him from crushing her windpipe. Her long, wavy black hair was pulled back and tied loosely, and wide brown eyes were filled with fear as she repeated, "Fac fortis et patere."

Zeke's words rocked him. How did this girl know?

"Who are you?" He whispered hoarsely, loosening his hold slightly.

"I'm the one who got a letter to your tutor so that he could help you escape. He gave me those words to say so that you would trust me. We don't have a lot of time before those shadows catch up; we need to move."

Rayce switched his hands from her throat to his own, tugging at the whip cord. His fingers came away flaked with a sticky film of dust.

"What is this?" He wiped his hands gingerly on his pants, then leaned over to scoop up his staff and clip it back into place on his harness under the pack.

"A bit of cold iron pulverized into a powder and mixed with some adhesive solution. I had to make sure I could catch you long enough to get you to listen."

Rayce wondered at that silently. As far as he knew, only he and Zeke knew about that loophole in his ability.

She gave her whip handle a shake and the length of it retracted swiftly so that she could hang it from the rear loop of the weapons belt she was wearing. The back of her black leather jacket just managed to cover the belt, if not what was dangling from it. He recognized the thin tubes of dormant seraph blades. A Shadowhunter.

"Do you have a name?" He asked.

Her dark eyes found his green ones and she nodded. "I'm Sera."

She turned around and swiftly darted past a few pillars marked with '2B', motioning him to follow, and then they were slipping through a door into a brightly-lit stairwell. Sera ran up the stairs, leather-clad legs pumping smoothly as she took them two at a time, flying around the landings with her left hand on the rail. Rayce tried to shift again, but there was likely too much of the iron still stuck to his neck and hands for him to manage. Looks like he would be running, too.

They emerged from the stairwell and Sera charged down the lane toward the same entrance that Rayce had come through minutes earlier. His eyes flicked around, seeking out the shadows that would conceal any Unseelie assassins, but nothing moved.

"It's okay, they're below us right now," Sera called over her shoulder, reaching the exit and jumping over the barrier. Rayce followed, utterly confused at her confidence in evading pursuit.

She turned right and kept on running at full tilt. She probably had fresh speed runes, but Rayce didn't have that luxury, and he had to push himself hard to keep up. A great highway ran across an overpass, and the intersection below was a snarl of red lights, green lights, headlights, brake lights, and honking horns as cars tried to edge around black and orange cones. Rayce was overwhelmed by the noise and confusion. He felt a flush of gratitude to Sera as they dashed between two cars, narrowly avoiding being crushed by careless drivers. She seemed to know where she was going.

More towers of glass rose into the sky on either side of them, lights dotting the windows here and there and Rayce wondered if they were anything like the demon towers of Alicante. Rayce could hear Mundanes calling insults after them as they shoved through the crowd of milling pedestrians waiting to cross at the next intersection. Sera ignored the signal lights and flew across the pavement without even looking. He unconsciously copied every move she made, wary of a single misstep.

They were on a pathway paved with interlocking bricks now, and there were no more cars to contend with. Rayce read the words 'Harbourfront Centre' on the building to his right as they passed by in a blur of speed. Sera made a sharp right and yanked on the handle of a bright blue door, holding it open for Rayce to duck inside. She closed the door behind them and sank back against it, breathing hard.

"Wait here, 97 seconds." She squeezed a device around her wrist and it beeped. Seconds started counting on the face of the instrument.

"What happens in 97 seconds?"

"We hope that everything keeps working." She let her head fall back against the door and she scrunched her eyes shut.

Rayce crouched down next to her. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I would really love to know what's going on."

Her expression softened and she looked at him, then nodded understandingly. "I know, Rayce, and I promise that I'm going to explain. But right now I really need to concentrate." She closed her eyes again.

The seconds ticked away.

Sera's head suddenly jerked up and her eyes flicked open in surprise. Did she fall asleep, Rayce wondered.

"Damn. Come on!" She bounced back up to her feet, boots already pounding along the corridor to another set of stairs. They ran upward together, and after only two flights they stood before a ladder that led up to what was presumably the roof access.

Sera practically ran up the ladder and slapped her palm against the access hatch. She must have hit it harder than Rayce thought, because it blew open, clanging backwards loudly, the night sky open above them. She hopped off the ladder to clear the way for him and then flipped the hatch back over, her hands shoving it down with extra force. As Rayce turned to follow her, he could almost have sworn that there was a dark imprint of a rune on the hatch. Is this a Nephilim stronghold?

Sera had her back to the east wall and was looking at the edge of the roof intently. She held out her left hand to Rayce. He took it without questioning, watching as her head nodded in time to some internal clock. "Now!"

She sprinted forward, pulling Rayce with her. Right off the edge. He didn't have time to even gasp as he leaped blindly out into the night, but he had his breath knocked out of him as his feet touched down on the roof of a tall truck that was struggling to get through the narrow corridor to make a delivery. Sera didn't pause, taking a quick double step before launching them off the truck toward the two-storey glass building across from where they had been. She let go of his hand in mid-air so they could both grab hold of the edge as they came up short on the jump, feet slamming into the glass. They each pulled themselves over and Rayce backed away from the edge.

"This isn't possib-" Sera took his hand again and pulled him across the rooftop, running south along the edge of the glass panels. The building curved away to their right, where they made the transition to an older-looking brick section. A tall chimney stack rose from the roof and Lake Ontario was a dark silhouette to the north. Sera knelt down at the edge of the building and took hold of the lip in both hands, lowering herself over the side, and then she let go, dropping lightly to the ground far below. Rayce shook his head in amazement and copied her movements, landing next to her in a cat-like crouch. She pointed at an eight-storey building across from them, where a covered stairway climbed halfway up the side like an elongated snake.

They dashed across the distance between the two buildings and hurtled around the corner of the staircase. Sera made a slight adjustment just before turning and managed to miss crashing into two men dressed in expensive-looking suits. No sooner had they turned to stare at the girl who had flown by than Rayce barrelled around the corner, knocking all three of them to the ground. He untangled himself from the mess of arms and legs while they all tried to apologize at once. Sera pulled him free and shouted her own apology before pulling Rayce along up the steps.

The door at the top took them inside the building, which was mercifully empty of people so far with the late hour. Sera slowed a bit, eyes unfocused and Rayce slowed with her.

"It's okay, they didn't see us," she said, out of breath from the run up the stairs, "And they are so confused because of the roof thing. We have a bit of a lead again."

They set off at a jog to the end of the corridor, banging through the stairwell door and descending back to ground level. Hurrying past darkened shopfronts, they exited through glass doors marked with a stylized 'Q' and hopped down the four steps that led back to the sidewalk. Pleasure boats were tied up for the night at the stone quay just a few feet ahead, and across the water twin glass towers rose, connected by a glass bridge between the sixth and eighth floors.

"That's where we're trying to get," Sera said, pointing at the towers. Rayce nodded in response.

A few Mundanes were strolling along the quay or sitting on benches, watching the water and enjoying the mild evening air. Sera tossed her head impatiently and then turned to face Rayce, her hand sliding up from his hand to his forearm, squeezing gently.

Her eyes searched his for any reaction, but he only looked back at her steadily.

"Stay close and trust me," she said, using her right hand to rub th back of her left shoulder for a moment.

The corner of Rayce's mouth quirked up, and a dimple appeared. "That's what I've been doing, Sera." She flashed him a crooked smile and then turned to stride down the quay, Rayce at her heels. This time, no Mundanes took note of them, and Sera stopped next to a long, sleek craft with The Lunaveon scrolled across the stern in gold letters.

She leaped lightly into the back, pulling on a lever to release one of the jet skis from the on-board dock. It drifted backwards a bit and she straddled the seat, firing up the engine, and then she nodded at Rayce to hop on. He shook his head to himself and scooted up behind her, hesitantly placing his hands on her waist. Sera stiffened for a moment, then reached down and pulled his arms closer around her, backing away slowly from the yacht. She turned the handle bars and gave it a bit of power. The Mundanes were still blissfully unaware for what was happening... but Rayce's pursuers were not.

With a screech of rage, Kylea and her Unseelie henchmen (hench-shadows?) appeared at the edge of the quay.

Sere swore under her breath, but it was too late. Kylea had snatched a bow from one of the Unseelie and fired a single shot at the retreating jet ski. Rayce had no protection, save for the pack, and the arrow pierced him low on his right side, just over his hip. He gasped in pain and his hands gripped Sera tighter as he pulled himself closer to shield her from any further attack.

"Hold on!' She shouted at him, as if his grip could tighten any further, and she gunned the engine, shooting out around the edge of the harbour and out into the open water. Water sprayed up and splashed across Sera's face. There was a bit of tree cover near the edge of the quay, and the hunters lost sight of their prey.

Sera maintained their speed a bit longer to keep up the illusion that they were going much farther than they were, then cut back on the throttle and guided the jet ski back in toward the shore. She let it idle and tried to turn to see Rayce's injury.

"It's alright," he said, his right hand moving down to feel the end of the Elf-bolt protruding from his side. Pain shot through him, mixed with fear as he recognized it for what it was. Elf-bolts were imbued with Fey magic and poison to burrow into their victims and guarantee death.

"No, it's not alright yet, but it's going to be. Just a little longer..." Sera crept forward on the jet ski, waiting for another signal that only she could see, and Rayce steadied himself against her with his left hand as his right gingerly held the shaft of the bolt, preventing it from digging in any farther.

She ducked low as they approached the quay, tying off to a cleat. She waited just a few seconds longer, then gently took Rayce's hand from her waist and pulled herself up over the edge. She turned back to help him and he hissed with pain as the jet ski rocked under their shifting weight. He managed to scramble up after Sera, his blood staining the concrete where it fell.

Sera threw his left arm across her shoulders and they hobbled forward together toward the twin glass towers they had seen from the opposite quay. They entered the north tower without a single glance from the few Mundanes who were still awake. Sera pressed the elevator call button a few times and chewed at her bottom lip nervously as the lights above the doors counted down to ground level. The bell pinged and the doors opened, and Rayce was stunned to see his reflection in the mirrors inside. He was leaning heavily on Sera now and his face was ashen and drawn with the pain. He could feel a slow heat spreading from the wound and knew that the poison was already seeping into his system. She jabbed her finger at the button for the 22nd floor and the doors closed.

"It's okay, we'll be safe now," She whispered to him.

Once the doors opened again, Sera turned them down an elegant hallway lined with cream-coloured carpet and tasteful, dark-blue wallpaper, frosted glass sconces shining cheerfully. She pulled a set of keys from an inside pocket of her leather jacket and unlocked suite 2223.

Inside, she wasted no time, shucking off Rayce's pack and unclasping his staff from the harness and leaning it against a wall in the guest bedroom. She slipped off the leather strap and then took a deep breath before gently pulling his shirt over his head. His eyes were out of focus and his head was drowsing. The poison was moving quickly.

She laid him back across the regrettably white duvet and pulled a tiny metal tin from inside a zippered pocket in her jacket. Folded hand-towels and a basin of fresh water were already on the bedside table, and she steeled herself for the next part as she helped herself to them.

Rayce's eyes were closed now and she was shocked to hear him absently humming a haunting lullaby. He wouldn't notice if she just... With one final check to make sure he wasn't paying attention, she laid her shaking hands across his taut abdomen. Swirling black runes flowed outward from each of her hands, one to slow blood loss, another to put him into a deep sleep.

The humming faded away and Sera took hold of the Elf-bolt shaft that had already burrowed in another inch while neither of them had been gripping it. She pulled it out swiftly and tossed it into the wastebasket by the door, then quickly pressed a towel to the wound as it started bleeding profusely, despite the amissio rune she had applied. She held the towel in place with her knee as her bloody hands unscrewed the lid of the metal tin. A rank odour wafted up from it and she blew out through her nostrils sharply. She picked up another towel and scooped out the entire contents of the tin with it, making a glob about the size of a robin's egg.

She pulled away the first towel that was stained scarlet now and it followed the Elf-bolt into the trash. She pressed the foul-smelling paste to Rayce's wound and then added another towel for padding over it. She unbuckled her weapons belt one-handed, shook off her whip handle and seraph blades, then slid one end under his lower back to snug it down into place and adjusted it so that she could cinch it over the towels. She breathed a bit easier and laid her hand against his ribs, bending her thoughts toward healing so that a tiny pattern of iratzes would bloom around his wound. It would start to close, sealing in a good bit of the antidote for the deadly poison so that it could begin to chase down the destructive magic.

Sera exhaled what felt like every bit of air she had ever breathed and crossed the hallway to a bathroom to wash the blood off her hands. As the pink-tinged water spiraled down the drain and she scrubbed at her wrists, she glanced up into the mirror. Dark eyes, raven hair and a face that was flushed from the adrenalin pumping through her veins looked back at her. What a joke, she thought, wrenching the tap closed a bit more forcefully than was strictly necessary.

She felt the lie on her skin like an oil slick and she felt dirty. She shook her head and cranked open the taps for the shower. Sera stripped out of her jacket and kicked off her boots, throwing them out into the hall. Her black leather pants and tank top followed and then her bra and underwear. She stepped into the too-hot shower and tilted her head up to let the water run down her body, thinking about Rayce laying blissfully unconscious and unaware in the other room. She wondered for the hundredth time how she was going to explain all of this to him.

It was a long time before she got out of the shower.