Anticlimax
Prologue

Kitty dropped from a low overhang into the dim alley with a soft thump. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, not to mention quite loud, but she couldn't stop and do anything about that any more than she could take care of the wound in her upper right arm, which was hurting in earnest now. In the past two years that particular arm had taken more than its fair share of abuse, what with the injury received from her rooftop battle with the werewolves (she now bore a scar from that episode) and the bleeding bullet wound she was putting up with now.

She crouched low and surveyed her surroundings. She could hear voices, relatively close, and the quick footsteps of two people with heavy footwear. There wasn't a suitable hiding place in the alley, and, predictably, it dead-ended after ten feet. But there was a fire escape.

Gritting her teeth, she swung herself up onto the ladder as quietly as she could, her wounded arm protesting at the movement. She hauled herself up onto the first landing, the metal rattling under her feet. She winced at the noise and started up to the second platform, reaching it just as the two men drew level with the alley. She flattened herself as much as she could against the bottom of the landing and forced her breathing to slow.

The two of them peered suspiciously into the narrow space, and one of them produced a flashlight and switched it on. A powerful beam illuminated the entire area, right up to the wall at the end. After tilting the light up so that it touched on the barbed wire coiled around the top of the wall, the man directed the beam at the side opposite the fire escape. Kitty's heart thumped frantically, so forcefully that she was surprised the platform she was lying flat against didn't rattle. The light reached the first landing, slid upwards…it touched on the strands of hair drifting in front of her face, paused…and kept going up.

There was a low snarl, and Kitty realized with a start that the other man had gone. Even as she stared at the place where he had been standing, a huge, extremely hairy and wolfish creature loped out of the alley, still growling softly. It stiffened, rose up on its hind legs, and morphed into the burly man she had been running from for the past half hour or so: fangs and snout shrinking, claws retracting and losing their points, and hair seeming to be sucked back into the limbs as the body became steadily less like a wolf's and more like a human's.

"She's here," he said in a guttural voice, fitting for the man who had been a growling animal only seconds before. "Hiding."

Kitty's heart stopped for a moment, and then started pounding again, even harder than before. She had to get up to the roof, but she couldn't move without being seen….

But apparently someone above was fond of her, because at that precise moment a large moth flitted purposefully into the alley and right up to the place where she hid, flapping its dust-colored wings in her face.

"I've been looking all over for you," it whispered, somehow managing to sound disapproving even with its tinny voice.

"Cerebaton!" she hissed, never happier to see the persnickety, admittedly minor djinni (level two at best) that she and one of her comrades had summoned together, using incantations found in a stolen book. Although it was probably treated with a great deal more respect under her command than a magician's, it didn't stop the spirit from finding fault with practically everything she did. Still, with everything they'd gotten him to tell them about magic and the spirit world, along with his powers, he had proven himself invaluable despite his disdainful attitude.

The moth rolled its tiny eyes. "Obviously. You've gotten yourself into a fine mess this time: there are spheres everywhere. Typical…"

She knew this rant, and she didn't have time for it.

"Save it," she whispered fiercely. "Just put up a Concealment around us so we can get out of here – you can mock me all you like later."

With a grumble, the djinn fluttered its wings in an obviously significant pattern. Nothing happened that she could see, but the sound of the two men moving into the alley was strangely muffled now.

"Thanks," she whispered, the moth scoffed quietly, and she slowly eased herself into a standing position. She started up the ladder to the next platform, careful to go slowly and quietly despite the pain it caused her arm. The Concealment might keep her safe for a while, but with their superior sense of smell the men below would figure out where she was soon.

A few minutes later she hoisted herself up onto the roof of the building, struggling to breath quietly. Cerebaton fluttered around her head, making annoying "tuh" sounds, and she waved a hand at him to keep him out of her face, hissing, "Cut it out!"

"Excuse me," he said sarcastically, "But I fail to see the use of getting trapped on a roof."

"We're not trapped," Kitty said sensibly. "You'll just need to transform into something large enough to carry me for a few minutes so we can get back to my flat. You can do that and maintain the Concealment, right?"

"Of course I can!" Cerebaton snapped, sounding deeply offended, and morphed into an enormous eagle, easily three times the size of a normal one. The sound of London's night life was still weirdly muted, so Kitty could assume that the Concealment was working as well as ever. She eased herself onto Cerebaton's back awkwardly, for a moment unsure of where to grip, and wound up seizing a clump of feathers between his wings as he took off from the roof abruptly, nearly dislodging her.

"Did you think about warning me?" she asked angrily. He didn't respond except to grumble about her "practically ripping out half my feathers," beating his large wings rapidly and bearing them in the direction of her home.

"Did you see if Penny got away safely?" she asked, the horror of the night's events coming back to her now that she had time to stop and think.

"I didn't," Cerebaton responded, indifference clear in his tone. "I was flying all around the blasted city trying to find you. I suppose the rest of them are–"

"Yeah," she broke in sharply, feeling a lump lodging in her throat against her will. She didn't want to have to think about what had happened right now, especially in front of the unsympathetic Cerebaton – it could wait until she was safely in her flat. Still, try as she might to think of something else, images popped up in her mind's eye: Joey, whose impatience had led to the whole disaster, lying on the ground, eyes blank and staring while blood streamed from the wound in his throat; one of the werewolves, jaws soaked with the red substance, leaping with a snarl at Sera, who was youngest and timid, probably bullied into going along; the flames leaping up from the warehouse, one of the security guards howling in pain, clutching a gashed and burned leg.

She swallowed deeply and blinked several times as Cerebaton began to descend in a lazy spiral, finally landing in the shadows near the back door. Kitty slid off his back and pulled out her key, which was hanging from a chain around her neck. She unlocked the door, checked to make sure there wasn't anyone watching, and pushed it open. Cerebaton, now in the form of a scruffy fox, slunk in after her.

She glanced at the clock as she moved towards her bedroom. Nearly one in the morning – good God. What she needed was to go to sleep immediately, and sort things out in the morning when her mind wasn't reeling.

"What, you're going to sleep?" Cerebaton demanded as she dropped onto her narrow bed and closed her eyes, willing the darkness behind her eyelids to remain undisturbed by any more gruesome memories of tonight's devastation. She could feel him staring incredulously at her from his perch at the foot of the bed.

"Now?" he persisted, his voice rising in pitch. "Are you insane? You don't have time!"

"What're you talking about?" she growled, his words not making any sense. The point was, she was away from the warehouse, from the roof…all she wanted was to lie down and not think.

Cerebaton huffed, and unexpectedly she felt the blast of (unnaturally cold) air against her face. Her eyes flew open to find the fox's muzzle inches from her own nose, its dark eyes piercing her and looking uncharacteristically wild.

"The spheres," he pressed. "They have a highly sensitive sense of smell. We passed a few on the way: it was unavoidable. Soon the Night Police will be knocking down the door."

The words took a moment to penetrate her exhausted mind, but when they did she sat bolt upright, all thoughts of sleeping gone. Beneath the horror, Cerebaton's uncharacteristic concern registered dimly. As if noticing this, the spirit added, "Personally, I could care less if you died – that would free me of my captivity. But if they get here, I'll be going down with you. They're armed with silver."

Kitty would have dearly loved to call him a coward as she grabbed what she called her emergency bag from under her bed, packed with spare clothes, water, and nonperishable food in case she was forced to run – but there was no time for insults. The reason for this being that her pursuers chose that moment to blast the front door apart. Two werewolves came lunging forward, growling so deeply Kitty could feel it in the soles of her feet.

A Detonation went off in their faces, and they fell back yelping, going from wolf to human form and back again. Kitty leaped over their writhing bodies and sprinted into the kitchen, towards the back door. Cerebaton was at her heels, going a little slower than he might have usually – the extensive magic he had been forced to use was probably taking its toll on him. His essence had already suffered the strain of four months' worth of enslavement. Whether to magician or commoner, the ache of being in the mortal world was the same.

Kitty burst out the door as another werewolf rounded the side of the flat. Something sharp drove into both of her shoulders, and with a cry she could herself lifted up, the jaws of the wolf closing right where her leg had been a second before. Cerebaton bore her upwards, grunting with the exertion, dropping her on the roof of the flat.

"Are you incapable of protecting yourself tonight?" he snapped despite the fact that his form was actually flickering; his power was almost completely drained. In answer, Kitty pulled a switchblade with a silver edge from her boot, which she had hoped (almost naively) that she wouldn't have to use.

Sirens were approaching – she could see the flashing lights from where she crouched on the roof with Cerebaton, who had changed into a small blackbird.

"Cerebaton," she murmured, watching the approaching lights, "I think you've done all you can. Go back to the Other Place, and return once your health is restored. If you can't find me here, see if Penny is still alive and go to her instead, and answer to her as if she was the one who had summoned you."

The bird nodded and vanished, leaving behind a faint wisp of smoke. Kitty inhaled deeply – her command had been wordy – and raised the knife as a man swung himself up onto the roof, a satisfied grimace on his face as he stared at her.

A sudden yell from below had them both turning. An explosion tore up half the street outside, rubble flying up to pelt the two on the roof.

"What the hell?" the man growled, and as if in answer to the question a silver figure leapt onto the roof, landing without a sound.

Kitty stood still and stared, transfixed by the ethereal beauty of the creature. Its form was vaguely human, though extremely slender and completely silver, and shimmering wings so thin they were almost completely transparent floated in the slight breeze. Hair of similar quality did the same, drifting about its blank, shining face in graceful arcs. Large, silver eyes that had no pupils locked onto Kitty's, and she felt something probing her brain. The sensation was enough to make her twist her head away, breaking eye contact and the vaguely disturbing feel of what she suspected was the creature's own consciousness.

There was a strangled cry from behind them: in their distraction, another entity, this one a djinn with the earthly form of a cougar, had also joined them on the roof. Kitty looked around in time to see the man fall, blood pumping from a wound that had torn all the way through his chest. The cougar looked indifferent, turned to the silver thing near Kitty. Some communication must have passed between them, for the cougar disappeared without even attempting to attack her.

"What are you?" Kitty demanded of the creature, knife raised threateningly. It studied her with those unnerving silver eyes. Again, the thing began probing into her mind; she jerked her head to the side to break their connection, watching it out of the corner of her eye. It didn't move to speak, but she could hear it's answer as clearly as if it was from her own thoughts: I am called an Oracle. And you, Kitty Jones, have been chosen.

"What are you–"

Before she could finish the question, the Oracle stretched out its extraordinarily thin arms. Soft, pulsating light enveloped them both, and Kitty felt herself floating…

A minute later, both had vanished completely from the rooftop, from London altogether. The other party who had caused the explosion had also disappeared. By the time other officials, John Mandrake among them, reached the scene, there was no live person there to tell them what had transpired.