beauty and horror no doubt puzzling him.
“You,” he managed to say. “It
is
you.”
“You—you know of me?” I asked, faltering in my flight for a moment, rocking unsteadily.
“My people had given up hope of ever finding you,” he said, grim. “You are the whisper of legend.
Stanis.
”
“Stanis,” I repeated, letting the name roll through my mouth as if it were new to me. I had thought the word before, but long had it been since I had uttered it. When it left my lips, I felt the power in it. Why this man should know my name was unclear, but my mind awoke to that mystery, demanding answers. “How do you know of me? Why were you chasing that woman?”
His face went dark, his eyes narrowing. “Because that woman must die for what they did to you,” the man snarled, still clutching to my solid arms. “Her and her kind. If not by my hand, then by another’s.”
My other questions fell to the back of my mind as the first rule rose up once more, all-consuming. The protection—the protection of
the family
, I remembered—overrode all other things. “That cannot be,” I said. “I cannot allow that. For you, this ends here. Now.”
The man struggled in vain to free himself, not that it would matter this high up. “More will come, Stanis,” the man said. “You have been missed and you
will
be found.”
“Then let them come,” I said, no longer able to resist the rise of the rule.
Protect.
“I am Stanis. I am death.”
I shifted my hands to the sides of the man’s head, holding him by it as I slowed my flight. He grabbed at my arms, holding on for support as his legs fought to find some form of purchase, but it did him little good.
Such frail creatures,
I thought once more before pressing my hands together on either side of the man’s skull until they met. Screams gave way to silence, and the burning at my center faded and was no more.
Seven
Alexandra
T he sound of chaos somewhere off in the alley behind me had died down minutes ago, but the pounding of my heart hadn’t and I remained where I was, stunned, my fingers locked through the loops of the fence, holding myself up there as long as possible. I lasted until I could no longer feel the wire digging into my hands, and when one of my boots slipped loose from one of the loops, I let go, landing hard on the pavement below. I pulled the art tube off my back and held it out in front of me like a sword, the simple length of plastic giving me the courage to race back to the last corner before giving a tentative look around it, my heart still beating in my throat.
It was quiet now that the sounds of chaos had died down completely. Fighting, a cracking and popping—had that been bone? A pained cry from a man’s voice; then the signs of struggle in the alley had fallen away in less than a heartbeat, followed by the strangest sound of all. The man’s cry of pain, still going on, faded like the quickly passing siren of a high-speed police chase. Only it wasn’t going away from me uptown or crosstown. Irrational as it was, in just seconds the voice had disappeared…straight up into the sky, followed by silence.
I moved forward with a slow caution, rounding the corner I had turned down before the fence had dead-ended me. There was no one in the alley now, which, in a way, caused me to panic more. Having heard what I had just minutes ago, I looked up into the night sky, feeling foolish when the only thing I saw were the dark clouds high overhead. I turned my gaze back to the alley all around me, my brain unable to process the mystery of what the hell had happened to my attacker. Had I missed whoever it was? Had he snuck down the alley behind me, waiting to spring? I spun around, expecting to see him, but there was no one there. A glint of light on the ground caught my eye—the knife the man had pressed against my throat. I knelt down as I continued to watch for movement in the alley, and took the knife by the handle. I stood, the power of the
“You,” he managed to say. “It
is
you.”
“You—you know of me?” I asked, faltering in my flight for a moment, rocking unsteadily.
“My people had given up hope of ever finding you,” he said, grim. “You are the whisper of legend.
Stanis.
”
“Stanis,” I repeated, letting the name roll through my mouth as if it were new to me. I had thought the word before, but long had it been since I had uttered it. When it left my lips, I felt the power in it. Why this man should know my name was unclear, but my mind awoke to that mystery, demanding answers. “How do you know of me? Why were you chasing that woman?”
His face went dark, his eyes narrowing. “Because that woman must die for what they did to you,” the man snarled, still clutching to my solid arms. “Her and her kind. If not by my hand, then by another’s.”
My other questions fell to the back of my mind as the first rule rose up once more, all-consuming. The protection—the protection of
the family
, I remembered—overrode all other things. “That cannot be,” I said. “I cannot allow that. For you, this ends here. Now.”
The man struggled in vain to free himself, not that it would matter this high up. “More will come, Stanis,” the man said. “You have been missed and you
will
be found.”
“Then let them come,” I said, no longer able to resist the rise of the rule.
Protect.
“I am Stanis. I am death.”
I shifted my hands to the sides of the man’s head, holding him by it as I slowed my flight. He grabbed at my arms, holding on for support as his legs fought to find some form of purchase, but it did him little good.
Such frail creatures,
I thought once more before pressing my hands together on either side of the man’s skull until they met. Screams gave way to silence, and the burning at my center faded and was no more.
Seven
Alexandra
T he sound of chaos somewhere off in the alley behind me had died down minutes ago, but the pounding of my heart hadn’t and I remained where I was, stunned, my fingers locked through the loops of the fence, holding myself up there as long as possible. I lasted until I could no longer feel the wire digging into my hands, and when one of my boots slipped loose from one of the loops, I let go, landing hard on the pavement below. I pulled the art tube off my back and held it out in front of me like a sword, the simple length of plastic giving me the courage to race back to the last corner before giving a tentative look around it, my heart still beating in my throat.
It was quiet now that the sounds of chaos had died down completely. Fighting, a cracking and popping—had that been bone? A pained cry from a man’s voice; then the signs of struggle in the alley had fallen away in less than a heartbeat, followed by the strangest sound of all. The man’s cry of pain, still going on, faded like the quickly passing siren of a high-speed police chase. Only it wasn’t going away from me uptown or crosstown. Irrational as it was, in just seconds the voice had disappeared…straight up into the sky, followed by silence.
I moved forward with a slow caution, rounding the corner I had turned down before the fence had dead-ended me. There was no one in the alley now, which, in a way, caused me to panic more. Having heard what I had just minutes ago, I looked up into the night sky, feeling foolish when the only thing I saw were the dark clouds high overhead. I turned my gaze back to the alley all around me, my brain unable to process the mystery of what the hell had happened to my attacker. Had I missed whoever it was? Had he snuck down the alley behind me, waiting to spring? I spun around, expecting to see him, but there was no one there. A glint of light on the ground caught my eye—the knife the man had pressed against my throat. I knelt down as I continued to watch for movement in the alley, and took the knife by the handle. I stood, the power of the
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