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“Your life’s in danger. I take that seriously.” He glanced at her. “You okay?”

“Just a flesh wound,” she replied in a bad British accent.

With a shake of his head, he smirked, and then went back to watching for trouble. “I think we lost them.”

“Good. Think it’s safe to go back to the hotel?”

“Yeah. Gideon’s paying guards to circle the place. Even if the priests found us, which I’m sure they have, they couldn’t get close enough to cause a problem.” He let out a breath. “We just have to get there, and that’s the problem.”

Maggie ducked reflexively as the sound of heavy wings flapping came from very close to her. She yelped and looked up to see the undead vulture perching on a trash can next to her.

It had an eye in its beak.

A human eye.

She watched in horror as it swallowed the eye in one gulp. “Oh, gross.” She had to look away. “That poor guy.”

“They’re trying to kill you, Mags. Or worse, drag you off in chains to be locked away somewhere for the rest of time. And you feel bad for them?”

“Soldiers following orders. It’s not their fault. They don’t know me or my situation.” She shrugged. “Not to say that if they did, they might feel differently. But Rinnie seems to.”

“Something tells me that guy has his own chip on his shoulder, but sure.” Harry sighed and looked at the bird. “You going to give us cover between here and the hotel?”

Eurydice fluffed her feathers.

“Great.” Harry cracked his neck. “Let’s go.”

Standing, she looked down at the huge vulture that was clearly eyeing her back, even if she didn’t have, y’know, eyes. “Um.”

The bird turned its head to the side, peering up at her.

“I don’t know if we’re…friends or not, but. Uh. Thanks.”

Eurydice flapped her wings, let out a small grumbly cooing noise, and then took off into the sky again. Vultures taking off from the ground weren’t exactly the most graceful things in the world, but she couldn’t help but be impressed, regardless. She never realized how big they were.

“She’s got an attitude problem. Has to put up with more of Gideon’s bullshit than I do.” Harry shrugged. “But she likes you well enough, when you’re not making him do stupid shit she disagrees with.”

“Can you understand her?”

“I can understand all dead things, animated or not. Product of being dead, I guess. We don’t talk, if that’s what you mean. It’s just a kind of knowing.” He motioned for her to follow him. “Like, I don’t know, you remember that special we watched on trees communicating?”

“Yeah?”

“Kinda like that. Root systems. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”

This time they walked. It didn’t seem like they had been followed, and with the black blot of a giant temperamental vulture circling overhead, the situation felt a lot less precarious than it had before. A lot less fun, but a lot less precarious.

It was another few miles of walking before they reached their hotel on the outskirts of the city. They had taken a cab on the way in, but it seemed like a bad idea to get trapped in a car in the traffic that was partially bad because it was an ancient city, and partially bad because of the chaos probably still going on back at the park.

Luckily, they didn’t run into a single priest along the way. Lucky for who, she didn’t know. She winced at the memory of the eyeball. Pulling out her phone, she texted Rinaldo

Maggie: Sorry about the guy who lost an eye.

She didn’t expect a response. She figured Gideon would leave him alive, since he was on her side and trying to keep her alive and free—for the moment—but in what condition the necromancer would leave the priest, she didn’t know.

More things to figure out. After she showered and bandaged her arm, anyway. The hot water was going to suck on the abrasion. Oh, well.

The blast of cold air from the hotel lobby made her breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god for AC.”


Tags: Kathryn Ann Kingsley Memento Mori Fantasy