Wanted: Intact or Vapourised

Chapter 7

Shaken by the sight of the emblem of Kilyan-Jel and all the memories he had been forced to shut away, Ptolemy was put right back into his bad mood when his sister called him. The light of her call on his small wrist strap shined in the shadowy atmosphere of freelance medical, the flapping awnings and air humid with chemicals. He began to stride out before someone came and apprehended him as the mad man with the pistol who shot at secret symbols. Oro slithered wordlessly after him as he pushed through clear curtains.

"Hey, I found Fury Talax. He is not a happy puppy. I think. . . well, I think Joon Gregor happened. Feels funny knowing how famous that kid is now, we apprehended him when he wasn't quite done yet, you know?"

Ptolemy, who was still provoked, took a moment of silence. The memories were not friendly to her either, and he had no desire to take out old baggage on a changed Persephone.

"Right. Where are you, and do you think you could draw us a rough map? They shouldn't sell maps of Ishtar moon, they should just sell charts that say 'your guess is as good ours'."

She chuckled as he passed into the dull green light of Ishtar Sky where dark mangled ship shapes howled over head and the crowds never ceased.

"Listen, Percy, you follow through on the Fury Talax thing, but I just got a ball of golden yarn that might lead me to the minotaur, so I'll get back to you. I have a present for you as well, so wish me luck otherwise you might not get it." He patted the bullet he had purchased in his pocket.

She sighed.

"Alright, don't die, and try not to kill anyone, little brother."

Ptolemy hung up, and cracked his knuckles. He sighed, smelling the chaotic and horrid air, gazing out into the narrowing street where a tower of green creatures were climbing over each other and scuffling through the crowd as one.

"Oro. Lesson four in bounty hunting. If you find a fresh lead, you run for it. If you can keep up."

He was set to make a fast dash for the nearest food court to freelance medical, but he had no idea which direction he was supposed to go. Suddenly the labyrinthine quality of the moon was less funny.

"I thought we were running for it, Human." Oro clacked.

"We need to figure out where the food court is."

"Oh, that simple? I thought you were going to cut him off or something. You want the food court, follow me."

The Rehon arched it's back and it's many hidden legs burst from the folds of it's hobo disguise, and it grotesquely lengthened like a train car, and almost before Ptolemy could haphazardly grab it by a loose piece of cloth, it went at a galloping slither. Oro was weaving through the crowds at great speed while his outer teeth flayed and his blueish inner gums tasted the air and rode on it like a highway. Almost like he was being dragged by an excitable pet, Ptolemy clumsily ran, feeling ugly and obsolete on two thuggish legs while the Rehon's limbs made waves upon the uneven ground. He was jerked this way and that, bumping into patrons and marketers, apologising profusely while his gloved hand was yanked by Oro. Ptolemy could not say how long they had traveled for, passing under archways made from derelict ships on their sides, leaping over games of tokens and cards being played on the pavement, darting around great stalactites made of mould that extended down from the sky like frozen lightning strikes where creatures climbed up and down like Jacobs ladder.

Under shadows and over low walls, until eventually, they burst through the curtains into the food court.

There were no humans present, less so the sight of a phantom in a white shell.