Chapter 15 - Focused on the Memory

  Alex doesn’t dream. Wrapped in a comfortable blanket of black nothingness, his mind just drifts. Half-formed thoughts tickle and tease, but never congeal into ideas. Concepts whisper to him in voices so hushed they aren’t even whispers. He just floats there, untethered, unbound.

  Sometime later, Alex groans and opens his eyes. He moves stiff limbs and an even stiffer neck. He shifts uncomfortably, feeling something jabbing his side. He rolls off the knapsack and grunts. What was poking him? Alex unties the flap and flips it open, reaching inside.

  The pouch is mostly empty, but his hand does brush against something unexpected, paper. Grabbing the hard object that had been digging into his side, and the mysterious paper, Alex withdraws them both. In his hand he grasps a note, and a knife.

  The knife is a primitive thing, he discovers after pulling off the leather sheath. Fixed-blade, with a hand-carved wooden handle that appeared to have come from that strange ‘melt-wood’. The blade is about as long as his hand from wrist to fingertips. It’s slightly curved, but with a flat back. Alex tests the blade by running his thumb against the side of the edge, and is pleased by the feel. Sharp and true. Not so much a weapon as a tool. Though it certainly would give him a bit better chances in a pinch.

  He resheathes the knife and sets it aside as he looks at the note. He squints at unfamiliar characters in squiggly lines across the small page. Try as he might though, he can’t read it. “Corvus?” He asks, or tries to, his voice cracking and sending him into a coughing fit. “Corvus?” He tries again, voice stronger.

  “Yes Alex?” The crow’s voice comes to him without him catching sight of the bird. “Are you feeling better rested?”

  Alex swallows and rubs his face. “Yeah, a bit. I really didn’t realize how tired I was. How long was I out?” He asks, tucking the knife into the waist of his jeans.

  Corvus wings down and swoops into the alcove. “Nearly 10 hours. It would appear the rest was much needed.” He says, landing to use a wing to gesture to Alex’s arms. When Alex looks, the scrapes and bruises are basically gone, leaving only faint impressions of where they used to be. Alex rubs his arms, then reaches back to feel behind him. His shirt feels whole again, and there’s no pain from the damage his back had sustained.

  “Yeah, it seems I really did need it.” He says, and sits up onto his knees. “Hey, can you read this for me?” He says, holding the page towards Corvus.

  The crow tips his head sideways. “Flip it over, please. It is upside down.” Alex quickly rotates the page and holds it up for Corvus again. “It says this- ‘Alex, keep this blade sharp, and your wits sharper. Hell is a ruthless place and you’ve barely set your toes into it. I don’t know where your path will take you, but I hope someday it’ll lead you back to see us. Mora.’ And that’s it.” Corvus says, reciting the contents of the letter. “How very kind of her.” Corvus hops over and looks at the handle of the knife sticking out of Alex’s waistband.

  Alex holds a hand over his mouth,eyes stinging at the corners. He lets out huff and rubs his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve gotta make it. Can’t just fade away until I have a chance to repay them.” Alex says, seeing Galla, Mora, and Collin’s faces in his mind’s-eye. “If I make a difference, if I can stop those buffets, it would make life better for them, right?” He asks Corvus.

  The crow nods and lets out a soft caw before answering. “Yes. If the establishment stopped operations, it would put a tourniquet around the flow of Animus out of the area surrounding the Nexus Point. Which would provide more opportunities for them. Unfortunately, there is no possibility of stopping the newly-arrived from falling prey to other poor deals.” The crow paces a bit. “But the worst of the perverse waste of potential would be snuffed out.” He finishes, anger rising into his voice. And Alex gets the distinct impression that the crow is scowling.

  “You’ve reacted like that a few ti…” Alex starts to say, but trails off mid-word as the hairs on the back of his neck start to stand on end. He’s not sure what it was, but something sets off every warning-bell in Alex’s head. He looks to Corvus, noticing the bird had gone still, watching Alex intently. That was all the confirmation Alex needed. Corvus can’t warn him about the hounds. Not directly at least.

  Gripping the handle of the knife, Alex eases it out of the leather sheath. He looks down at the blade, then winces and slips it back into place. Corvus had called them ‘stone’ hellhounds, and Alex doesn’t want to run the risk of breaking Mora’s gift. “Time to run.” He mutters, and Corvus nods. Alex slips the knapsack on again, tucks the note into his pocket, and eases up the side of the hollow’s bowl.

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  Alex carefully parts the scrub-brush, peering out of his hiding place. All he can see is stone and bush. Thinking back, he tries to remember what he saw when he noticed the first one. A short boulder. Narrower on one side. A bit angular. With a sinking in his gut, Alex registers several rocks that could match that memory. As if hearing it again, Corvus’s words during the last encounter come back to him, “You have the tools you need.”

  Alex fights back the rising panic in his heart, forcing his breathing into a slow and steady rhythm. He focuses, stoking his will until he feels that internal urge to purpose. Then he lets his senses expand.

  He braces for another backlash, but the pain doesn’t come. Instead a clarity settles over him. His eyes pick out details that he’d glossed over previously. The striations of the stone. The texture of the bark from the scrub-brush. The moss that clings near the roots of each scruffy bush. The dust settling at the edges of two of the larger stones, then puffing into the air again. And then Alex’s focus narrows to a blade’s edge on that detail. Those stones are breathing.

  Panning his gaze around the surrounding area, Alex spots four more boulders being betrayed by little puffs of dust. Only the first two are close enough to directly threaten him. Alex relaxes and releases his focus. As if someone had dimmed the light, those sharpened details blur into the background. Still present, still noticeable, but harder for Alex to process.

  “There’s six of them. Two are close enough to be a problem.” He mutters. Corvus looks up at him and cocks his head. “Dust.” Alex simply says in a whisper. Despite having a beak, Alex could swear the damn bird is grinning. “From how they’re positioned, I don’t think they know exactly where we are. Just that we’re close.”

  Corvus gives a curt nod, then hops onto the back of Alex’s knapsack. “You used the Sensory Augmentation.” He says with a touch of pride in his voice. “Without knowing a specific thing to focus on.”

  Alex shrugs. “I focused on the memory of the first hound.” He explains to the bird while preparing to move. “Details started popping out, then I noticed how the dust moves when they breathe.” Alex steadies himself and closes his eyes, trying to recapture the feeling of purpose from before the hound attacked. Once more he feels the subtle pull. Orienting himself towards it, he assesses the path. He’ll have to bolt between two of the breathing boulders, the hiding Stone Hellhounds. But at least the closer ones will be behind him to his right.

  “Count of three?” He mutters. Corvus gives a curt agreement and grips onto the knapsack with his talons.

  “One…” Alex braces his feet and puts a hand on the edge of the hollow’s bowl.

  “Two…” He swallows and takes a deep breath, kindling his focus and will just in case.

  “THREE!” Alex explodes from the scrub-brush, legs pumping furiously as he bolts out of the hollow. He can hear the nearer hounds react, letting out snarls as they abandon their camouflage. The clatter of feet on stone fills the air and the chase is on.

  With the element of surprise spent, Corvus launches into the air. From his aerial perspective, he watches as Alex runs. The boy’s decisive nature and curious mind continue to intrigue the ancient demon. Alex is far from the only soul with those traits that he has welcomed into Hell. But he is the only one among them who bargained for more knowledge. The only one who didn’t ask for direct aid, or power, or direct answers. Alex bargained for more guidance. And Corvus intends to ensure Alex gets as much of it as he can provide.

  “Do not attempt to use the Intent-movement to slip between them. They will anticipate such a tactic.” Corvus’s voice reaches Alex. Alex doesn’t answer, but instead shifts his angle slightly so that he isn’t aimed between two of the more distant hounds. The other four are starting to react too, lifting heads and turning to look. Twelve amethyst glimmers locking onto Alex with bestial hunger.

  Alex picks a spot to the left of the outer-most hound and kicks off, blurring through the world to land just feet from it. The beast is quick to react, bursting to its paws and lunging. Thanks to Corvus’s warning, Alex was ready. He swings his leg out, the toe of his boot catching the side of the hound’s jaw.

  To Alex’s credit, it was a well-aimed, solid kick. But, true to the creatures’ name, it was like kicking a statue. The shock of impact races up Alex’s leg and makes him stumble. He falters, struggling to regain his pace. Fortunately, the kick had startled the hound enough that it couldn’t capitalize on the opportunity either. The beast shakes its head, growling at Alex before resuming the chase.

  Alex wasn’t interested in making it easy for the hounds. As soon as he gets his footing back, he kicks off again, picking a more distant point. The world blurs, snapping back into focus again with Alex well ahead of the pursuing pack. Without breaking stride, Alex keeps going and lets out a whoop of triumph. Corvus gives an answering caw. Then the hounds chorus with howls. They weren’t interested in making it easy either. And Alex is fine with that.