The following morning, long before the sun had a chance to rise, Angel rolled out of bed. He stretched his arms and legs out with a yawn, then walked over to the toolkit underneath his desk. He rifled through it, grabbing a large leather pack at the bottom and pulling it out.

Angel flipped the top open and glanced inside it. The pack was full of cannisters – all empty, of course. Running around with a pack full of primed magic bombs was just asking to get blown up. Angel refilled his travel pack with cannisters, then clipped the pack onto the back of his belt and then pulled his duster on, covering it.

His palm throbbed again, and a ripple of purple traveled underneath his skin, prickling like ice water. Angel grimaced, shaking it off as the feeling slowly traveled further down his arm before fading.

More than anything, he wanted to examine the relic. However, he knew himself well enough to be aware that the moment he started examining the red cube, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Moreover, he couldn’t let anyone know it existed. It would be a long time before he was alone enough to get any good work in on his prize, so he let out a heavy sigh and did his best to push it out of his mind.

He attached the silver board to his back and scanned the room one more time in case he’d missed something important. He couldn’t find anything, so he slung his travel pack over his shoulder and silently slipped out of his room.

Fence was snoring loudly in the shop. Angel rolled his eyes as he locked his door behind him and swept outside, closing the outer door as silently as he could to avoid waking the man. It let out several defiant squeaks, but the large merchant could sleep through just about anything.

The sun had still yet to rise over Bronze City. The tall metal buildings cast heavy shadows over the ground. Angel shivered as he casually made his way towards the eastern side of the city, where the Magistrate’s estate was located.

There weren’t as many people out as Angel was used to. A short merchant prepared his cart for the day, hanging drab rugs and curtains up for display. Another man had started to prepare breakfast, but all Angel could smell was ash.

Sickly orange light from the kerosene lamps lining the streets extended the shadows and warped them grotesquely. A slight wind moaned through the streets, ruffling Angel’s hair. He frowned and pulled his scarf up, wrapping his face to protect it.

He arrived at the Magistrate’s estate a short walk later. It was large, although it was far from being the largest building in the city. It was three stories high, with iron and bronze walls carved with symbols depicting strength and prosperity. The building was fenced off on all sides by black iron with spikes at the top.

A lone guard stood at the front gate, leaning on his spear and looking up at the smog filled sky. Angel gathered his wits and approached the man confidently. The guard noticed his approach and turned to look at him.

Then the guard stepped to the side and nudged the gate open just enough for Angel to squeeze through. The man averted his gaze as Angel passed. He made his way to the front door, and pressed on the polished metal handle.

It swung open silently, revealing a beautiful interior. A gold plated chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting strange shadows over beautiful red carpets and a table made of mahogany. A young woman stood in front of the table, her hands clenched and lips thin.

If Angel had to place her, he would have said she was a year or so younger than him. She had sharp, intelligent features with striking similarity to Dalliah. Her skin was pale, unblemished by the scorching desert sun. However, the woman’s most striking feature was her eyes. They were a pale red, like twin rubies.

A pack was slung over her shoulder, and she wore a beautiful gauntlet on her left hand. She swallowed as Angel inspected her.

“Are you just going to stand there and look at me?” she whispered.

“Sorry,” Angel replied in the same low tones. “Let’s go. I got lost in thought.”

She stepped away from the table and followed after him. Angel closed the door behind them as silently as he could. They started towards the gate. Then he frowned.

“Where’s the guard?”

“Guard? My mom ordered the watch to skip tonight to prepare for a ceremony so nobody would see you when you arrived.”

“Shit,” Angel cursed. “Someone knew I was going to be here. We need to move. Now.”

He grabbed the girl’s hand and set off at a brisk jog, ducking into the alleys and weaving towards the exit. A part of him wanted to drop everything and sprint, but that would draw too much attention. His mind churned as he tried to figure out why a fake guard would let him in before running off, but he didn’t have enough time to think on it.

“What’s going on?” Dalliah’s daughter whispered. “What guard are you talking about?”

“I’ll explain later. No time now,” Angel replied, turning down an alley as they neared the gates. He slowed to a brisk walk and the two of them stepped out into the main street. “Walk normally and keep your eyes straight ahead. Pull up your hood as well.”

She followed his instructions and Angel let go of the girl’s hand. He put his hands into his pockets and forced himself to move at his normal pace. The towering gates grew closer. They were still half-open, of course. The city only closed the gates when it was under siege, which didn’t happen as often as it used to.

As usual, several merchants had already set up near the gates. They didn’t have many customers yet, and most of them didn’t look particularly interested in trying to catch Angel’s attention this early in the morning.

Angel could scarcely believe his luck as the two of them walked out of Bronze City and into the cold, early morning desert without a single person bothering them. That didn’t shake the feeling of unease hanging over him, but it did a lot to reduce it.

A lone figure broke away from the wall and walked up to stand beside Angel and the young woman. He adjusted the sword at his side and Angel caught a flash of red on its surface. The girl flinched back, but Angel put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, he’s with us. This is Cowl,” Angel said.

“Hello,” she said, holding a hand over her heart. “I’m Vanessa.”

“Pleasure. Unfortunately, we don’t have time for introductions. We need to leave,” Cowl said. “Do you both have a way to travel quickly through the desert?”

Angel and Vanessa both nodded. Angel grabbed the board on his back and tossed it to the ground. Vanessa reached down and pressed something on her boots, which lit up with a faint blue glow. Cowl watched them for a few moments, then reached up to his back. Two paper thin translucent wings curled out from the man’s back, fluttering to life with a dull hum.

“Follow me,” Cowl said, shooting off into the desert.

Vanessa broke into a jog and leapt forward, the light under her feet growing brighter as she skated across the sand with increasing speed.

“Great. She’s a walking spotlight,” Angel grumbled, leaning forward and launching forward on his board. He easily caught up with the other two and reduced his speed slightly to stay in pace with them.

“Interesting board,” Cowl called over the hum of his wings and the wind rushing by them. “Old World magic?”

“Yep,” Angel replied. “Got it a few years ago. I can’t go back to using anything else.”

“Why?” Vanessa asked. “It’s much bulkier than skates, and they’re not even that expensive anymore. They only cost a Vei.”

Cowl suppressed a laugh and Angel nearly fell off his board.

“Only a Vei? Only?” Angel exclaimed. “That’s a few months’ salary! Besides, my board will run your sad little skates into the ground. Old World magic dwarfs most of what we’ve got now.”

“You’d have more money if you didn’t spend all your time tinkering with artifacts,” Vanessa said.

“You sound like my landlord,” Angel said. “Your mom talked to you about me, then?”

“Of course she did. I wasn’t going to travel with some… stranger.”

Cowl glanced at her and let out a small chuckle. “What am I?”

“You don’t count. You’re a Hunter,” Vanessa said, not sounding certain of her own words.