Shadow of the Avatar

Chapter 4 -- Shelter From the Storm

Though many may argue it, Ishtar is a goddess of virtue. We wage war to defend the innocent, and consummate our passions to celebrate life. It is our love that gives us the strength to fight, and our war on evil that keeps us free to spread our rapture...

--Jharon Ko

Wren looked up into the wind-torn sky letting the freezing downpour run across her face. The clouds writhed, intertwining masses of black and gray briefly illuminated by flashes of lightning that boomed through the night like evil laughter. The cold wind clawed at her wounds like icy talons. The dilapidated buildings and peasant shanties around her looked like rat chewed doll houses.

She clutched the gash in her side. The pressure of her arm opened the scabs on her lacerated breasts. Her hair streamed across her face as she staggered through the storm.

She tried to orient and find a purposeful direction to go. If she continued randomly through the city's alleys, it wouldn't be long before the street people attacked to take advantage of her weakened condition. Soon the priest's best thieves would be on her trail.

Grahm is gone.

The pain in her side was tiny compared to the agony in that thought. Get out of here. Find Desiray. Grahm's last request. She remembered touching his lips. Kiss me. Last chance I'll get.

Grahm, I could have loved you. I simply didn't know how. Now, I won't get a chance. Anger flashed through her like a thunderbolt. This is Desiray's fault. Putting those damn toe-kissers in charge. Grahm died for nothing.

Find Desiray. All right, Grahm, I'll find the manipulating witch. We'll make the bastards pay for what they've done.

She summoned Desiray's illusive image. Little about the mistress was ever the same. Even the lineaments of her face varied day to day and she never wore the same color, style, or cut. The only constant in Desiray's appearance was her hair. Long bone-white strands that shone like a star on a dark night.

How do I find her? She usually appeared after dawn and left about noon. She simply appeared from nowhere, and later vanished.

Wren strained to clear her mind and identify the surroundings and place herself within the chaotic jumble of the city's twists and turns. On a roof she could quickly sight landmarks and know her location. It would also keep all but the most determined Dagger thieves away. The torrential rain and wind made the rooftops dangerous though. Poor footing or an unexpected gust could send her plummeting off a narrow beam or cornice. She stumbled down the street knowing she couldn't pull herself up onto a roof now even if she wanted to.

Her only hope lay in finding refuge. If any Brethren were to survive, they needed Desiray's power. The mistress had been instrumental in defeating the Dagger before. She could do so again.

Wren stopped and leaned against a wall. She examined her bloody hand in a flash of lightning. Rain splattered in the thick coating of blood, washing away the clotted mess. Shaking, she tore part of her tunic and pressed it against the wound.

A gong rang in the distance. She oriented in the direction of the sound and took another bearing. She knew the sound, the call to the street people to gather in Podar's warehouse away from the fury of the storm. That meant that this must be the crafter's quarter, south of the temple district.

Wren cleared her mind and forced the pain down. Hobbled by the wound and deep in what was now the Cult's territory, she couldn't afford a mistake.

Footsteps.

The storm drowned out everything but the closest noises.

Too open, no place to hide. She ran. She hadn't seen the angular statuary of Mosque Street meaning she'd probably gone east from the guild. This should be Trencher's Alley near the ancient ruins of the collapsed citadel. Nothing there but burned out warehouses and peasant nests though.