Iris Harper

The Statue

The storm had let up during the day, and the clouds, tired of pouring their loads over so bleak a landscape as this city, had moved on to bigger and better things. As dusk fell and the stars started blinking back into existence, Kaiyu surveyed the landscape from the roof of the library. That is where her chase had ended the previous night, so that is where it would pick up.

She stood there for a long time, motionless as a statue, observing the old, gothic buildings and the people far below, moving like ants to and fro, and like ants unaware of the bigger picture without them. Powers surrounded them that defined their lives, yet several decades of mingling with the pinnacle of human nightlife had taught her to have no respect for their insight, or potential for perception. They were herded, culled and ruled by powers they did not even begin to comprehend, yet every night they mugged, raped, murdered, and plotted against their own with a vigour which had always amazed her. Sometimes she wondered why demons were needed to give this pretense of justice to human existence, when being a human in itself seemed to be the worst kind of punishment. Demons were a backstabbing bunch by design and necessity. Humans made the choice, every day, with glee.

Kaiyu shook her head, the first motion in a long time of utter stillness. The pigeon that had been resting on her shoulder for the last fifteen minutes, took startled flight at the statue suddenly coming to life. She followed its dash through the sky with something like a spark of amusement in her eyes. As part of her training, she had spent three months standing absolutely still on a roof like that. She was glad to see she could fool a pigeon, at least.

She unfolded sinuously and rolled her shoulders. Her fingers instinctively brushed the stiff leather scabbard at her thigh, and she frowned. She had a task to do, and no time to reminisce over the numerous faults of humanity. Indeed, she ought to not care at all: her present charge was no human, and to her kind that was all humans were--charges and prey. She had better prey now.

She closed her eyes and opened her senses. It was a hard mode of tracking; one they knew but never used, for it was overwhelming and unnecessary. When your charge was nothing but a glorified monkey that stumbled through life leaving smells and traces plain for anyone to follow; when they had friends, relatives, accomplices, tracking them was really the work of a minute. Hell, even human police sometimes managed it. But for an angel...she would have to use the full extent of her powers.

The cacophony of human life flooded her like a tide, full of noise and devoid of consequence. Cars roared like hungry beasts; babies keened like dying birds; angry voices clamoured for attention; electricity and water hummed in the walls of buildings like the pulse of a failing heart. She heard a shot, a lover's kiss, a betrayal. She smelled fear, anger, lust, deception. She touched minds and quickly withdrew, for none of them was what she was looking for. One by one, she excluded the hearts, the cars, the voices and all other noises that did not interest her. One by one she removed all the petty, greed-filled presences, for all human minds were petty and greed-filled. She discarded also the focused vortexes of thought of those of her kind, never stupid enough to come close to touching them. No demon would forgive such an intrusion.

Seconds turned into minutes, and many ticked by, until, in the end, only one noise was left. One heart was beating. One smell filled her nostrils, complicated and sweet. One mind, warm, glowing, unlike anything human or demonic.

Kaiyu broke into a run. Even on a clear, starlit night like this, she was merely a shadow, a reflection, a sensation of movement too brief to be noticed. She flew over fences, fell from roofs, climbed up walls, sprinted down alleys and startled stray dogs and cats who never knew what had passed them, but whined and ran away nonetheless, for it had the scent of a predator. Smell was another useful tool in her overflowing arsenal. To her own kind she had no odour but that of night and rain, but to her prey she smelled of danger, of death, of primal horror. And while no two people would agree how those things smelled, they knew when she was near. They felt their spines crawl, their palms sweat, and their hearts race. This scent that was not a scent, told every being with warm blood in their veins to flee and never look back. Men turned up their collars and walked faster when she flew over a roof nearby, women skidded and took a different turn than planned when she was in an alley. No one wanted to be near a hunting demon. It was a wisdom passed to them by their banana-eating cousins.

And as suddenly as she had begun to move, Kaiyu froze. She was on a low rooftop overlooking an alley, just next to the central park. The glow of the angel's presence had abruptly disappeared, but something else had replaced it. She slowly turned her head slightly to the side, and her long, thin tongue flicked out to taste the air. Blood. Angel blood and quite fresh. It did not taste of fear, or pain. It tasted of...determination? Mixed with it was the acrid taste of rust and soil.

Kaiyu dropped off the roof soundlessly and walked towards the park. Her movements were swift, faster than a jogging human although to her that was merely slow, leisurely walking pace. She knew he had eluded her again, for now. She would not find him in the park, but there was something there, something he had led her to. He had managed to mask his presence in the Weave once she was close enough to where he wanted her to be. She could take it for a lucky coincidence, and maybe he was hoping she would, but she had already underestimated him for far too long. She would have to talk to Zaebos again. He was old, and probably had run into plenty of angels in the field in his time.

The bundle of bloody feathers was tied to the base of a rusty old statue of a woman holding a child's hand, a little way into the park. The grass was still wet there, small diamonds glittering on every leaf in the starlight, and a huge birch stood a faithful guardian to what must have been the embodiment of some imagined human virtue or other. The night smelled of freshness, of life and new beginning. At least, that is what it would have smelled of to a human nose. To Kaiyu, all was drowned out by the sweet and burning smell of the blood of her prey.

She crouched down and lifted the feathers to reveal the neatly folded piece of paper underneath. Picking it up, she realised, a bit taken aback, that it was, in fact, several sheets of paper, filled with the flowing, calligraphic writing of the angel, Ezariel. A letter? She frowned at the inoffensive paper. The message was intended for her, she had no doubt, but what could he hope to achieve with this? Would he plead for mercy with his hunter, his killer? Kaiyu snorted in disgust at the thought, and was about to tear the sheets apart, but then checked herself. Her frustration with being led on and fooled once more, her confusion at the angel’s illogical acts, was getting the better of her. Whatever the contents of the letter were, she would learn more about her quarry from it, and that was all that mattered. If he was foolish enough to leave her messages, so much the better. Already, because of his liberal spilling of blood, she could taste him and track him from miles away. A hunter took every advantage. And she was a hunter.

Kaiyu leapt up, feathers and letter still in hand, and landed lightly in the lower branches of the birch. She sniffed the air for any immediate dangers in her surroundings then, sensing none, sat down. The branches of the old tree hid her from any casual glances, and while they blocked out the light too, she needed no light to see these letters. She unfolded the sheets and the pale red strokes glowed at her, clearer and brighter than the stars. Kaiyu began to read.

Read next chapter at Chapter VII: The Betrayal