The Flame Keeper

Chapter 24

"In the alleyway!" Albert called in between staggered breaths, his chest puffing in exertion and his feet slapped against the pavement with heavy thuds.

I glanced ahead to my left, realizing that it wasn't really an alleyway, but rather a sliver of space in between an open clothes shop overrun with an array of racks cluttered with a variety of mismatched apparel, and a tattered apartment complex with looming, cylindrical towers next to the main body that spiraled up like the frosting on a cake.

Except it was like someone had taken a lick on the side, some of the bricks and windows crumbling.

One by one we shuffled into the alleyway, Matilda and Ken first but as I took a long stride forward, a puddle grasped at my feet and slammed them against the wet pavement. My hands shot out instinctively, but I recoiled and landed with a thud on my chest, eyes bugging out and gasping for air like a deflated balloon.

Albert had just rushed into the alleyway, a wild expression flickering on his face, but seeing I had slipped he immediately hurried to my side and offered a hand.

I wanted to scream they're after you, not me, but I didn't need to whip my head around to know it was too late to do so. The scattered footsteps had grown to jumbled thuds that sprinkled a shower of water droplets over my head as I shakily stood up.

"C'mon, let's go—" Albert's voice was cut short as my feet fell out beneath me, but not from a mischievous puddle on the ground.

A firm strike sent me tumbling into the clothes shop, and I landed headfirst into a cushion of woolen sweaters that clung onto my shirt like a colony of bees swarming a luscious meadow adorned with colorful flowers and trembling grass. Flailing at the sweaters frivolously, a golden beak peeked from between the folds of clothes and tugged the fuzzy sweater off my head, my gasps for air interrupted by a shrill cry that could have shattered windows.

Camila froze, the whir of grinding gears diminished to a gentle hum as she located the source of the screams. Following her gaze, I nearly choked on my tongue as quiet sobs escaped from Albert's disfigured form, the tattooed man planting a fist into his already purple face.

"Where is the money?!" He shouted, landing a flurry of punches and a firm kick to the groin that accentuated his booming voice. Spit spewed from his bloody lip as he jutted out his ragged face, sprinkling a bit of salt on the many wounds that bound Albert in a fetal position.

"I-I swear I'll have it by next week," A tremor overtook him and hot tears sprang from his eyes, smearing his bloodied face as they streamed down his cheeks. "I have plenty of buyers that I just haven't had the time to reach out to—"

"Liar!" The man snarled, twisting the word so much that seemed foreign to me. He raised his boot, an ironclad beauty that had seen the world on what it stood on, and drilled it into Albert's exposed side. "That's what you said last week, and here we are."

A sickening crunch racked my head as the man continued his pummelling, a blur of punches and kicks accompanied by splotches of blood and cries of agony straight from the heart. From the heart! The man leaned back, flexed his bulging arm strewn with pulsing veins, and aimed it at the center of Albert's crumpled form.

I couldn't watch, I knew, but...

Before I could stand up, the whir of gears next to me grew to a deafening whir as red and gold streaked through the air; Camila was an arrow that had her sights on one target: the smug grin on the man's face that begged to be wiped off the face of Attera.

The man shot out his fist, only to be stopped by a flash of gold: the cardinal chomped down on his meaty finger with all the strength her gears could muster and the man yelped in pain, swinging his swollen finger wildly.