Wychling

Chapter 1

The rain started again. Not the same sweet, gentle patter of summer. These were the cold, hard drops that announced the autumn, and grimmer days on the horizon. As if to confirm the dark storm to come, the last light of the day faded. The final, weak beams of dusk streaked down to the grey stone pavement, serving only to highlight the dark streets and make the deeper shadows impenetrable to the eye. The square quickly emptied, turning a poor but industrious neighbourhood into a ghost town.

It was a place from a forgotten era; a faded stone fountain sitting at a crossroads, crowded on all sides by uniform, gritty houses. The same grey stone flowed out in all directions, used for streets, homes and pavements, giving a monotonous, uncaring look to the neighbourhood. It was broken only by the bright red clay rooftiles which just served to underline the dull tones beneath.

At the height of summer, it could be beautiful here. The stones soaked up the heat of the sun, welcoming folk to stay and sit...but stone forgets warmth all too quickly. In that warmth the fountain was alive late into the night, as neighbours washed clothes and watched their children play in their barbaric, innocent way. As evening fell, the children and mothers were replaced by young lovers and mischievous souls, intent on soaking unwary passers-by. Not this night. The freezing rain stole summer's memory, leaving only a harsh bitter cold that drove everything living inside, fleeing back to the dry and warm places they nested in.

Even those unfortunates without homes found shelter somewhere, scattering into the shadows with the speed of the desperate. In moments, the only person left outside was a highly irritated-looking young woman, lurking by her front door. Clearly not wanting to be seen by the prying eyes of her neighbours, she kept to the questionable shelter of the doorway, staring up into the night sky, straining for a glimpse of the stars above.

For night it was. Beneath the foreboding clouds and their rage, not a single star could break through the mass of water rushing towards the ground's embrace. She sighed, and the rain began hammering the cold grey stones with the fury only a nearby sea can bring. Angry clouds rumbling with menace, a roaring crescendo to the drumbeat of their contents hitting the drab stones underfoot.

The young woman stepped out, and strangely, her face was lifted to the rain. Most would have flinched from the stinging wet cold on their bare skin, but for her it was freedom. The hard-wrenching shock of the freezing water, a sweet release from the stuffy, suffocating house, and her Father's incessant nagging. His endless worrying spilling over in a thousand irritating ways.

The stick-thin teenager raised her hands to the sky letting her hood fall down completely, reaching for escape, for anything to take her from this place. All she received for her yearning was the rain on her face. Eventually the wordless reaching ebbed within her mind and her longing formed a single calm note within.

Sometimes it was good not to think. To just exist and feel. Sometimes, if you stood in the rain for a moment, it could wash away your cares and concerns. If you stood for long enough, you could pretend that you were anything, even free.

She couldn't say how long she had been standing there when it happened. In among those harsh drops, the tell-tale sound of movement broke the stillness. A snap of metal, and a light thud. It might have been an innocent noise, but Tal had lived too long on this quiet street. Too long where nothing interesting ever happened. Something about this felt different. She couldn't say how she knew that, but the knowing was marrow deep. There was an urgency within her, a need to investigate, a pull towards the alley down the street. Towards the sound of something that didn't belong.

Despite her curiosity, she paused. It wasn't her first night out on the street. The hairs rose on the back of her neck as she waited, still and breathless, ears straining for any detail, any further sound. It could have been some drunk stumbling home in the rain...but no, a drunk would have cursed, or tripped, and made more noise. The violent snap and the utter stillness afterwards...her gut told her that there was more. Something interesting...maybe even dangerous. The kind of thing that a girl her age would best avoid.

She snarled at the errant thought, lip curling at her Father's words in her head. Why should she flee when her Brothers would investigate? Was she any less brave? Any less able? Sod that. Sod them.

She raised her hood, hiding her face, and crept forwards, leaving the slim grey light, and entering the shadows; a small figure enveloped in a black cloak. She took care to disguise herself as best she could, pretending to flinch from the rain as anyone would at this time of night, and holding her elbows out underneath the cloak to make herself look more broad. She changed her gait, walking with her legs further apart and rolling her shoulders, strolling with the cocky arrogance of the average man.

To anyone watching, she was just another hooligan walking the streets, hopefully too much trouble to bother with. Under the hood, however, her eyes were everywhere; checking every doorway and shadow, ears straining even as her feet led her along the street towards the disturbance.

As she approached the alleyway her muscles coiled tight, ready to spring in any direction. After another three strides, and hundred heartbeats, she finally reached the small walkway between buildings. Her eyes squinted through the shadows, searching. When they finally found it, she froze; and then it was too late...