Fight or Flight

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Shadow recoiled, its attack halted mid-strike. It took some time for my eyes to adjust to the brightness but I was able to make out Alannah emerging from behind a nearby chimney stack. In her hands, she held what looked like a modified flintlock pistol, its barrel glowing with an unusual red light.

"You stay away from her," Alannah's growl carried over the air currents that whipped along the rooftop.

The Shadow hissed, its form rippling with rage. "You. How did you—"

Alannah didn't let it finish. She squeezed the trigger, and a concentrated burst of energy erupted from the barrel. It tore through the air, slamming directly between the Shadow's shoulders. Where it hit, the darkness seemed to dissipate, leaving a hole in the creature's form.

The Shadow shrieked in shock then lunged towards Alannah, but she was ready. She fired again and again. Each shot was precise and calculated as holes appeared all over the Shadow's body, wisps of darkness dissolving into the night air.

I couldn't move – couldn't breathe, as I watched in shock. Alannah drove the creature back. The Shadow tried to reform, to fight back, but the projectiles seemed to disrupt its very existence.

"What manner of device is this?" The Shadow rasped, its voice distorted and weak.

Alannah's lips sprouted into a cocky grin. "Just a little invention from a friend."

Likely realizing that it no longer stood a chance, the Shadow let out an unearthly wail, its form collapsing as it frailly retreated into the darkness of the night. As silence fell over the rooftop, I slowly got to my feet, my mind reeling.

Alannah lowered the weapon, her eyes scanning the area for any sign of the Shadow's return while I evaluated my injuries. Scraped gashes littered my skin, my neck felt pulverized but I could breathe, and the scratch on my back was deep enough to likely warrant stitches. Through it all, my wings had held firm.

Nothing broken. I huffed a sigh of relief.

"Are you alright?" Alannah asked, turning to me. Long strands of her brown hair clung to the sweat at her neck and cheeks.

I nodded wordlessly, still trying to fully reintroduce air into my lungs. A stream of blood still warmed my back where my corset and dress had been gashed open.

"Well, that was quite a show!" Another voice called out from the same chimney stack Alannah had been behind.

Vex, the dwarven woman from the market, stepped into view, her stocky frame moving with surprising agility across the rooftop. She approached Alannah right away, eyeing the weapon in her hands with clear excitement.

"The dispersal rate was even better than I anticipated," she said, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "Did you notice how it destabilized the Shadow's form?"

Alannah handed the weapon back to Vex. "It worked perfectly. Thank you."

I looked between them, still trying to process what had just happened. "Vex? You made that? How did you..."

Vex's expression turned more serious. "It's a long story. Alannah will fill you in once you're back safe at the Mug." She glanced at Alannah, who nodded.

"She's right," Alannah said. "We need to move. The Avian Guard will be here soon."

Vex moved to the edge of the roof and peered down. With a triumphant aha! she pulled out what looked like a tightly coiled rope from her pack.

"Grappling line," she explained, noticing my confused look. "Made in Ironheart. Strong as a giant's teeth. It'll get Alannah and I down faster than another climb."