The Carrion's Craft

Chapter 8

With an agreement made between the human and I, and another jarring journey back through space and time, we returned to the office. The planks rattled at our arrival, along with my legs as I tried to land on my feet like Simon beside me. It wasn't a solid landing, instead I had to graze my palm against the rough material to keep my balance.

A ruffle of feathers and the scrape of a chair emanated beyond the desk. "You're back!" The bird's scraggily voice cawed at us. Warm hands from Gorby and Simon helped me regain my balance, allowing me to meet the gazes of the two familiars and my business partner. His eyes regarded me with his typical blank stare, manacles firmly pressed together in silence. Hesitance fuelled his motionless body. Whatever he was going to say, I don't think I was going to like it.

It was a brief discussion really. During our absence, Iric had calmed my friend's furry by guaranteeing our safe return. In fact, the bird was officially our new client, hiring us to help search for lady Mishava. How he was going to pay us was beyond me, but after seeing the variety of the Witch's assets, I figured he was good for it. 

Already I noticed that our window had been fixed with a wooden plank. I hoped it wasn't from our floor. As for ourselves, I told the others what we saw, placing the syringe on the desk. With it, that same shyness returned within the Bogeyman who cast a glance towards the others. "Nice work, Feth. Get some rest, we'll go for a walk and talk tomorrow". He said after a long period of silence. A drowsy rush of exhaustion overwhelmed me and eroded my will to question him. Instead I allowed Gorby to lead me towards the sofa to retire for the night.

It was peculiar, it had been sunny and clear in Breanna, and yet when I peer through the window, I could see nothing but the gloomy smog enshrouding the concrete maze. The dull green light of the shop adjacent pushed through the heavy fog like a beacon. Whilst my ears perked to the pattering of rain, it made me wonder, how far had these humans travelled to seek asylum with us, and why? The question would have to go unanswered, at least for now as I allowed my body to sink into the stiff cushions and fall into the night.

The following morning was a hectic one. The office had been cramped with life and swiftly paced. I only had enough time to throw on some drab attire and scarf down a mug of coffee before I was dragged out the door by Drenin's hand in total silence, leaving the cat to watch over the sleeping Simon and Brownie. As for the bird, he was perched on an overflowing dust bin outside, stifling a cough with his wing. 

The day was ablaze with a stifling heat. A hazy mist enveloped the oncoming crowds as they hurried past, bloodshot eyes in hollow faces zipped by as we battled the steady stream and took up a post beside the bin. "God, how do you breathe this crap?" Iric asked, pecking at his feathers.

"Try not to be so loud, last thing we need is someone hearing you." I whispered, my eyes drew over the pedestrians and rattling carriages all moving along like drones. An unsettling tingle ran up my back. It felt wrong to be the only ones resisting the tide of bodies barging on. Especially after figuring out the true nature of the witch's disappearance. If somebody had the ability to travel between Haul Crio and Breanna and overpower an individual of mystical ability, than what chance would we have?

Drenin pulled out a scrap of paper, passing the silky material to the bird's claws. "Take this. We need you to find this soup car, find us by the Hunter's Headquarters after". The large man said. For a brief moment, I glimpsed his hands as they retracted from his pockets. His talons had almost grown an inch since last night. Iric nodded and flew off, the force from his wings made me flinch as he disappeared into the sun seared clouds.

"The Headquarters? Why're we going there?" I demanded as we crossed the street. The smell of manure invaded the air as we ducked through the monotonous queue of horses and cracking whips. A blue newspaper box stood before us, offering up the latest public intel. As we passed by he snatched up a copy of the Haul Crio Gazette and thrusted it into my chest whilst we turned onto Ascension Slope.