Flame and Snow

Chapter 3: Akton

Chapter 3: Akton

The stairs were surprisingly difficult, and Akton held back a groan at the top. Someone lurked in the shadows at the end of the corridor, a non-shifter by the smell, and as he fumbled with his room key he heard soft steps on the stairs. They’d only waited. s**t. Still, if they were hoping to kill him in his sleep, he might be able to slip out the window before they made their move.

Pretending he didn’t notice them worked well until his door was half open and the person on the stairs sneezed. Akton swore aloud, flung himself into the room, and slammed the door behind him. So much for inconspicuously sneaking out.

He was instantly awake and sober, shoving what little furniture he could between himself and the door as he dashed across the tiny room to the window. Akton’s hands slid over the frame in the dark, searching. No latch. It didn’t open. Someone kicked in the door behind him and he backed up, only one way out now. This was going to hurt.

“s**t,” he heard one of his pursuers say as he tucked his head and crashed through the window. Only one floor up, he doubted he’d die in the fall. But the landing jolted him so hard that everything went black for a moment. When Akton got his senses back, he was on the packed dirt courtyard behind the pub, body throbbing with pain, vision and hearing a little off. He staggered upright, hand reaching for his sword.

“You would have made a great recruit,” said someone behind him, and he whirled, trying not to tilt too much. He blinked at the eyes glowing in the night, the wolf shifter. She was smiling grimly.

“No chance I can still?” asked Akton, not sure why he was bothering playing for time. The two people who’d followed him into the pub swore and left the window, not wanting to exit as he had, and he knew the fox and last member of their party were nearby. He couldn’t handle five people like this, exhausted and injured, his gash reopened, and a half dozen other cuts from the window stinging his flesh. Something wet trickled down the hand that held his sword.

“You killed one of us,” said a voice to Akton’s right, the fox. Behind him was a non-shifter, sword drawn. Any moment now he’d hear the footfalls of the other two. “You don’t get to live.”

“We’ll put you to good use, little weasel,” said the wolf, grinning.

Akton watched as she shifted before him, a bold, aggressive act in this public place, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the fox do likewise. He tried to take up a decent fighting stance, knowing the moment she could she’d go for his throat. But he was less powerful as a weasel, so he would have to fight as a man. Die as one, too.

The wolf moved, trying to circle around and push him back toward the door to the pub. Akton realized that would put his back right where it could get hacked from behind and tried not to let himself be led, but the fox was weaving back and forth near his feet, concerning him. He couldn’t kick out, and if he brought his sword around at him, the wolf would tear his throat out.

He was screwed. Akton gritted his teeth and considered how many he could take out. The fox, easily, but then the wolf would get him before—

Someone to his side cried out, and he saw movement out of the corner of his eye around where the door to the pub was. He saw the wolf tense and resisted the impulse to look, but whatever was going on had the person behind them widening his eyes and dashing forward.

Fire blossomed to his side and he did move then, the wolf and fox darting away as well, yipping. Swearing and yelling filled the air, and, arm up, Akton turned to look at what had happened.

One of his pursuers was on fire on the ground, clearly dead, and another was rolling around, trying to put the flames out. The third stood with sword raised as though unsure what move to make, but a fourth person caught Akton’s eye.

He’d seen him at the pub, sitting in a corner with an ale, amber brown eyes always on Akton whenever he glanced over. He had deep brown skin and a casual manner about him, and though he’d seemed on the thin side at the bar, his stance now as he held a sword seemed solid. Akton watched as he moved calmly to the rolling person and stilled the movement with a strike from the blade.

An ally would be good right about now. Akton moved toward the flames, slashing at a blur before him that turned out to be the fox. He yelped but retreated, so Akton figured he hadn’t killed him, but a moment more and he was putting his back up near the person who he hoped was his ally.

“Thanks,” he said, smoke watering his eyes. The last non-shifter fell back to the injured fox, and he couldn’t see where the wolf had gone.

“Looks like you really pissed these people off,” said his ally. He pulled the sword from the smoldering body.

“Yeah,” said Akton, unable to completely keep the bitterness from his voice. “I said no thanks.”

He’d hoped they’d leave. The fox was injured and the final non-shifter looked stunned, but the wolf seemed solidly in charge since Akton had killed the owl, so it was just his luck that they lingered.

“Shifters?” asked his ally, peering around in the night. Akton grunted an affirmative. “Good hit on the fox. I don’t think the other ran off.”

“She’s waiting for us to make a move,” said Akton, blinking hard. He felt like s**t. A glance at his ally showed him he was good looking, and the light from the fire caught his eyes to make them glow. He held back a laugh. He really needed to rest if he was thinking about his ally’s looks and not how to get out of this situation.

“Rush them.”

“What?” Akton didn’t think this man had any tactical training. When he glanced over again he was met with a frown.

“You rush them and she’ll have to break cover. I can handle her.”

“She’s a wolf shifter,” said Akton.

“Trust me,” he said, and gave Akton a little shove. He stumbled forward, caught his footing, and raised his sword, half expecting to find fangs in his throat any moment.

But they never sank in. As his ally said, he handled the wolf, a blaze of fire lighting up the space to the left of Akton as he ran. The fox looked up from licking his wound and the remaining non-shifter moved to meet his blow, but Akton summoned the last bit of strength he had and came at the man with everything he had. The non-shifter stumbled back on the uneven ground, and Akton buried his sword in him, barely able to pull it back and out. He stared, hand on his side.

“Over with?” he asked, the realization hitting him slowly. He grinned. His ally grabbed his arm. Akton looked over at him and saw he was grinning, too.