Dragon Oracle Chapter One

Dragon Oracle
By
Gavion E. Chandler

DoveHawk Enterprises
‘Original Draft’
© CopyRighted September 14, 2007

Note for the reader: The symbols and letters break up the shifting of scene and personal addresses in the beginning.

The Beginning?
A

Time has a way of forgetting, but man, in his nature of being will not allow such things to be forgotten… thus they do not allow us to forget. Brothers of the damned—brothers we stand, motionless, untouched by that unseen hand, watching Fates of Dreams unravel into a point of nothingness. We are to be, to exist tending to these haunts that men alone may come to breed in heart—that they come to nurture in spirit in mind… it is here that such souls come to be ravaged and these hearts blackened with furies and hatreds the cursed, damned and sanctioned come to wander and lurk! We alone would be the creation of such creatures… yet still we are creatures born to these wills, where passions of heart and mind that men alone may come to understand, with no thought of consequence—no regard for untimely repercussions yet to be endured. –We, would know of such matters, to such wills and creatures pretentious with self-worth, are we bound to be, to serve…

W

A

In this hour, this moment that I come to pen these words to parchment, this would be the first of many thoughts, their words that I shall come to strike… but where to begin this tale- this tale where treachery after treachery comes to unfold, unraveling with plays of hopes, and these mad prayers that they would come to pray. In a thought of a prayer, where a dull glimmer comes to linger with that simple promise, (that many have wished to know to be) striking that peculiar spark of significance, that single seed of twilight that in the darkest of hour that any man may come to dream in terror… but where to begin, where to begin?
To pray, to hope is but to know this rage that would rise within my heart, my soul… and yet I pray just the same. I know not if it would be out of habit, or to hear one whisper of hope, a moment of guidance that shall hopefully enlighten my person, yet such things I may not contend for my condition, I, in my heart came to know it to be.
W

A

In my life time have I watched hopes strewn ‘cross days and hours of men like pebbles cast from mighty ruins that lay desecrated in some forgotten shadow while ruins born forth from ambitions and desires rise into the midst of men like hollow temples where souls are purged and damned by such dreams… These waking hours I watch men in heart. Not in what they would do and what they wouldn’t do—therein my friend lays the deception of men. To such fellow creatures, these men I tend in duties, minding them as they come to rise midst these dreams born of days and shadows. There in a silence whispered of a breath, forgotten things of Man rises a darkness that comes to terrify my person, that it confounds my very being. In heart, in soul I dread and loathe such knowledge that would be founded in seeded truth that no man may deny it to be—yet in his self-willed and blitheful ignorance man denounces such matters of truth, holding no regard for that which exists beyond the reason and science of their world, thinking—believing it be phantoms of the imagination given flight in fears and hopes that desperate and desolate men hold onto. In that which they would mock, the truth of the matter escapes them.
In these Wakening hours, those visions that come to spin and unravel like a tedious web woven with illusions mad with their own deceit, now than ever more would those man-truths be more prevalent in my own understanding, for I am duty-bound to tend such moments in this dream that men call life where they in soul come to slumber with slumbers’ dream—they who in heart who would be blind, wandering, straying into darkness that would be born of their heart, a darkness that they come to covet in spirit—a darkness that covets them, revering them in unwanted sacredness.
The Devil understands this well, for without Man, the devil would have no true purpose, for it is in the mind of men he comes to find his greatest invention.

This is my commission, to be a Watcher of Man… to be a Guardian unto men, to be bound with Guardianship unto such spirited-creatures, and by such creatures would I be damned to be, for I too would be the keeper of such hours as they come to be and pass into the shadows of day. In this world, where men would rise in self-worship gloating in ‘man’s genius and his innovation and inventions, in blind pride they come to boast and scoff things that would be greater than any man or nation. In that profane arrogance, its blissful resolve such men come to be damned to hells that would be tempered by that nature of devise that would come to possess them in heart’s will; thus in the malice of men, I and any child who would come to waken to these unworldly worlds and dreams and those matters and their strange affairs of allotted fates of Man and Nations must We come to mind, damned in that knowledge of knowing where those Truths Unseen come to witch this world and worlds beyond. The truth would be simple enough—‘Man would be but his own devil’.
To this terrible haunt where the mind’s eye is swift to perceive, in understandings that are not to be founded in truths nor their reality… here am I left to wander… but where to begin, which tale to tell…where to begin for in my lifetime, who to most men would be but hours of a day, there is much to tell, and yet so much more to endure… such would be the life of a man that would be the life of many men—a portrait painted in conventions of truths and their many illusions that men come to live in this dream that they know to be life.

W

F

I know, to many a man would my words to be strange, queer, but when minds of men, (woman and man alike) come to mingle with each other, where worlds and their dreams, their haunts come to dance; it is in such worlds that worlds of men come to unfold, unraveling into maddening chaos… here I come to stand, to be. I would be one who would be found within these players, a minor figure, a moment of a dream. I would be but a coincidence, a means as to how the tale of tales comes to be told, and as to how their dreams and these visions come to unfold. I am but a simple mystery to be compared, for many wonders and horrors have I come to witness, and many more shall I come to bear testimony to. Much do I owe to my trusted friend, whom I know to be as such as I, for he, in his actions has been true in word, deed and thought and sincerity being the true spirit of his heart—Now have I come to be entrusted with honours that no common man would come to know.

Oh how this night grows cold…

F

1.1

Within shrouds of shadows, Michael looked out into the city of London, its masks of people and their hidden affairs wandering about, consumed with pleasures and daily concerns. A hard grin trenched across his stone-chiseled expression. His eyes, like iced steel hardened as the shadows and dreams of this world began to slip away, unmasking time, itself to be but some treacherous ghost that comes to haunt men, and evermore damning him to be… From the nothingness of a shapeless dream, a raven marked with a noble but simple streak of silver above its left sapphire eye descended unto his Michael’s person, claiming its perch upon his shoulder. “Well Dream One where is your sister,” looking to the shadows, “but more importantly, where is your Mistress.”
From the shadows a gentle, yet haunting voice came unto him though a whisper. “I am here wolf warrior, I am here, but as a dream in a moment may I only come to you. I have other pressing matters to contend with.”
“Good Mistress,” Michael teased with a dark chuckle. “ When do you not have matters to contend with?”
“Or you good Michael? When do we not have the affairs of men to watch over and contend with that which is so natural, and yet unnatural to them?
Michael raising his arm, patted his wrist summoning the raven to its new perch, and then turned addressing the silhouette shaped in darkness and in light. “Good Mistress when shall it end. I grow tired of warring against Deviled-beasts and Shadows-things—things that are given birth by the hearts of men! When shall it end!” He growled, and then huffed in a breath of aspiration and muttered frustration. “When shall they learn!”
With a sadness the lady shadow’s dream-like voice echoed, “Perhaps never, but it is such men, who in heart come to war with their fellow brethren and themselves. You Michael, better than anyone else know this to be so. I have seen the rage of war rise in your heart, and I know it to be of your soul. Of such crimes neither you, nor I are found innocent of—what man is? We in our lifetimes of men have come to stir midst these shadows and their dreams. Such matters are not foreign to you, nor I wolf warrior.
The raven hissed as a vile wind, echoing with screams exploded from some void of shadows. “Go Troum! Hunt!” Michael shouted after the raven, throwing her to the winds, and drawing his sword cane from its ash wood casing.
“Michael, steady your blade, as of yet, they are not upon us.” The voice gently commanded. “We still have time, the hour of their Covet has yet to gather. The hour is near… they ready themselves Michael. That is why I came to you Michael. There is a chance that we may find some hope within this turn of dark fortune. There is a whisper, a promise, perhaps an Hour of Man, when men of heart and soul, and in wisdom may come to acknowledge such truths. We may not be alone.”
Snapping his head around to the silhouette. “Cassandra, what are you saying! We have no time for your riddles! Speak plainly Mistress!”
From shadows of flames hissing hatefully exploded as time, space, and its void diminished into nothingness. Forth from that Nothingness things of shadows, twisted and tormented in composure of wretched figures rose into being, groping at threads of dreams and their realities. Screeching and shapeless forms of monstrosities with talons, claws and wings mounted into being. With cries of new furies escaping from their hollow gaping jaws, they swarmed unto the dark summit of mangled figures of picturesque horror, while sounding their warring cries, thundering it against the blackness of the vision.
The wind growing blistering hot, their rage surpassing furies born of any hell man could imagine. “Cassandra what is it!” Michael screamed over the deafening nightmare.
“The Weorthan Michael! Their Black Covet! They come in force—again! We do not have the time we hoped for… something quickens them. We must find…
The deafening furies of cries sounded forth from the pit’s rising darkness where shadows and fire came to be bound to the other, consuming Cassandra’s voice within their wrathful song tale.
“My God!” Michael cried watching the horde of devil creatures, each beast born forth from a darkness that men alone may come to know in soul, rising forth from that hellish pit. “Good God in heaven and by all the Saints!” In half oath, half prayer, Michael exclaimed, charging into the heart of the black swarming void.

“Come on you uneducated oafs! Move your asses! We’re suppose to meet up with Renny.” The night sketched figure shouted back to the fellow footpads.
“We’re coming book boy, don’t get your knickers all tied up in a knot. Old Renny, he’ll wait abit. No need to run us like rats.
“You’re rats alright, gutter rats, now come on! We got business to do and I don’t intend to miss my cut!”
“Ah Pretty Boy, quit beatin’ our chops would you. You have enough loot! Ya got more than both of us!”
The young lad stopped dead in mid stride, wheeling about pointing his red headed friend, as drops of rain glimmered against the blade. “Look here you stupid bastards, I don’t want to go and pissin’ off Old Renny! He’s a skinny bastard, I know, but don’t be fooled by his stringy limbs. Seen him take on twenty fellows and lick each and everyone of them and good too!” He stared down Josh through thick pellets of rain and darkness. “So Josh no lip from you, or you Ryder!” Shaking his fist at the stocky fellow. “Don’t play me simple, I’m speakin’ your tongue. So enough, Alright! Let’s just get done it with it!’
Josh brushing his thick red hair from his emerald eyes, “Oh com’ on Lucas, you ain’t no rich boy! What gives you the right to be bossin’ us around!”
“No Josh, it’s my father’s loot. It’s not mine to dip my fingers in as I would like… not as often as I would like,” He chuckled with a sly grin, “but I help myself to it when it pleases me to do so. My old man has more loot than he knows what to do with. But that’s not the business we have to deal with tonight. We are supposed to meet with Renny, and I don’t want to cross that boy. I’m not afraid of him. Mind you, I can hold my own. I’m watching out for you two!”
Ryder’s thin silhouette shaping itself against the dull illumination of the alley as he stepped up out of the shadows whipping his long black hair over his shoulder, and with his knife drawn matched his gaze with Lucas’. “I fear no man Lucas, not even Old Renny! The boy can fight, but he dies like any common folk with a knife to the belly! But it is bloody cold, so let’s get movin’… though I ‘m not afraid of Old Renny, I’d prefer not to piss the bastard! It’s more the company that he comes to keep that troubles me.” Ryder grumbled.
The three of them turned about and darted down the narrow alley, disappearing into shadows and night, leaving but the echoes of rain to sound against the silence of the night…

<>

1.2

The thick rain poured down Michael’s face. His expression like stone stared into the night as reality and its dream came to take shape. Sudden alarm raced across his face. “Elizabeth!” He whispered to himself, racing down Exeter Street to Wellington to the Lyceum theatre.
Elizabeth looked out from underneath her bumper, drawing the shawl close about her shoulders. From about the corner Michael appeared suddenly startling her.
“My apologies Lady Elizabeth.”
“No need to apologize or to be so formal with me. I am a good old New York girl as my father says.” Chuckling to herself. “My father at times curses for doing business abroad and taking me with him. He says Americans and their outlandish ways have done me in.” Twirling about, parading the trail of her dress around. “But I dare say that I have become the perfect lady, and I can hold my own in poker better than any man I know.”
“I dare say Elizabeth,” She teased, laying on thick the ladyship, “I would not be the fool who would come to tangle with you when it comes to cards or wits of charms.” Michael chuckled, and then his tone became serious. “But good lady, it is time that I take you home. Your father will be worried.”
“Good and kind Michael, Father knows well the spirit of his daughter’s heart and he threats about every time I step on foot outside his door. It is his common disposition in such matters, but no matter how much he threats, he would have me no other way. In public he must play the gentleman father and scorn my indiscretions, but in truth in takes great pleasure in watching me getting the ladies in a tiff. After all that is why he fell in love with my mother.”
“Very true Elizabeth,” he said taking her in arm and started to walk her through the rain. “After all that is why I find your company so enchanting.”
“Perhaps that is why Father, finds you so endearing.”
“Perhaps.” Michael pleasantly agreed.
Through the night they made their way along the streets, then Elizabeth with a playful nudge began to guide Michael down an alleyway. “It’s a shortcut, come on Michael.”
“Elizabeth, I would prefer to stay to the main road, there are sorts that lurk in back allies that I would rather avoid, especially tonight.” He muttered glancing around
“You superstitious?” She jested mockingly with a chuckle. “Come Michael, don’t tell me you’re afraid?” She teased, irking him as she tugged him along on. “Besides it’s wet, it’s miserable, and I would like to get home at a descent hour. You could have at least called for a hackney?”
“Like you would take a hackney home! Even if I have offered…” Michael scoffed. “Besides their steeds are better mannered than their coachman.”
“True, but that’s not the point!”
“Then what is the point!” Michael retorted.
Elizabeth swung about with her hand on her hip. “You could have at least offered, besides this way is shorter! It’s quite simple really.” She sang with a cruel smile.
“Okay, Okay Elizabeth. God knows you’re not a lady to argue with, especially when you set your mind to the particulars of the conditions. Sometimes I wonder if it worth the trouble trying to reason with you. Honestly Elizabeth!” He huffed as she tugged him onward.
With a quick smile she flashed back at him. “And Lord knows Michael, you’re not a man to be trifled with.”
In dark groaning voice, “True Elizabeth.” In the silence of his thoughts he uttered, “More than any man would care to know.”
Giddily she announced “Then we should be fine.” taking him by the arm and started to lead him down the ally.
“Oh Kacie, at times you’re an impossible girl!” Michael chided with a playful but stern voice.
She whirled about, with her dress fanning about, pressing her gloved tight-fisted against her hip while tipping her flocked bumper though a scowling hat. “Now you sound like my father.”
“I know Elizabeth, but it managed to get your attention, please listen to reason. My dear Elizabeth, your stubborn nature is at times quite trying. I think it would be wiser if we keep to the main roads tonight.”
Michael it will cut our travels by half and I know am a trying spirit..” She chuckled back at him playfully. “Now come on Michael, don’t be lolly-gagging about, after all I would like to get home at a descent hour, after all I am a Lady.” She almost growled cruelly.
Michael just huffed his discontent and chased after her as she darted down the narrow passage ahead of him. But she did not take notice of the dull silhouettes of illumination that darted across rain and darkness.
“Come on Michael, don’t…
“Don’t what Missy…”
Elizabeth’s footsteps suddenly fell still, looking into the darkness where three silhouetted figures emerged from its cover.
Michael instinct fully step in front of her and swept her behind him, as he confronted the villain scoundrels, staring each of them down.
His grip tightening on his walking stick, “Boy, I think it would be wise to reconsider, that is if you know what is good for you, you and your friends should go home to your mothers.” He snarled through his teeth-baring grin. “Boy, I am no man to be taken lightly. It would be fool-hearty thing for you to try your luck tonight—trust me boy, you do not begin to understand your position. The Fates do not look favorably upon you or friends tonight.”
Rain dripping from the kid’s wet black hair, his eyes beady, narrowed upon him as he sneered with a cruel laughter and growled back, “You talk too much for an old man, but again it’s your breed of folk to talk, I mean.” The roguish fellow jibed. “Just give me your billfold Mister. Don’t consider anything tricky either old man, mind ya have a lady with you. Wouldn’t want her to get hurt now would we?” A smile crept up along into the shadows of his face. Rolling smoothly the knife from hand to hand, ”Com’ on mister, me don’t got all day!” Eying the walking stick. “And I’ll take pretty little trinket from ya Mister if you don’t mind. Mind ya Mister, you still have the Misses with ya and we wouldn’t want her getting hurt. Now would we.” He said his voice growing cruel and grim.
An inhumanly ruthless grin arched across Michael’s face, his eyes glinted with a darkness burning with hidden furies, as he loosened his walking stick’s crowning stem from its holding-case. Eyeing down the boy’s two companions as they started to circle around. “Boys, do you really want to do this?” He sneered.
“You kind of forget there’s one of you and three of us. I mean you have your lady friend with you, but I don’t see what good that’s goin’ to do you right now.” Chuckling, “Maybe she can console you later, that is if you live through the night.”
Michael thundered with an evil laughter, as his tone grew vicious and determined. “Boy, you don’t quite understand your situation, do you?” He snapped back and before the boy could react and before Michael had finished his sentence he seized the boy’s hand, snatching the knife from his person. “Now boy,” Pressing the boy’s back into his chest while letting the cold steel of the knife tease his youthful flesh, while stiffening the boy’s frame with his walking stick. “Do you wish to call off your dogs,” he growled, drawing the knife to the boy’s throat, “or should I let this little toy of yours savor nectars of youth that you are so quickly willing to spill for a few coins?” Looking over to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, please stay behind me. Don’t worry, I won’t let them near you.” Glancing his stare off the prowling boys. “They will die where they stand before I would allow such a thing to happen.”
The first boy cried out. “Let ‘em go you bastard, or I’ll…
Letting the knife prick the boy’s skin, he growled back, “Or you’ll what boy? Do you have it in you to act, do you! I thought not.” His stare narrowing on the rogue
“Josh, you stupid bastard, back off! Are you trying to get me killed!” The rogue scolded. “Hey Mister, don’t listen to him, he don’t have the brains that God gave him.”
“Neither do you boy.” Michael barked back.
“Hey Mister take it easy.” Looking over at his thug companions. “And don’t try anything stupid, you hear me! I don’t want end up on the end of me own pick!”
Michael glared at them as they back down. Whispering into the boy’s ear. “That was the first intelligent thing you did boy.” Looking to the other boys. “Get out of here, if you want your friend to live. Leave!” He snapped with a growl.
“How do we know you won’t kill him after we are gone!” Josh shouted back.
“If I wanted to kill him and you two, I would have done it long before this!” Eyeing his hostage. “Well I have to say at least your footpad friends are loyal. Not too smart, but loyal.” Looking over at Josh. “Josh, you have my word of honor that I will not kill him. I have seen more than enough blood in my lifetime.”
“Word of honor! Mister what the hell does that mean to us!” Josh spat.
Enraged. “Boy, do not mock what you do not understand. I have lived my life in honor and in duty! Don’t mock me boy!”
“Alright man, don’t get all in a bitty about it!”
“Josh shut your trap! Both of you get the hell out of here.” Looking up nervously at Michael. “I don’t think he will kill me. Get out of here before the Jimmies come around. I don’t think our friend here wants any attention from them either.” The two boys lingered in hesitation. “Go on you stupid bastards, get the hell out of here! Go on—GET!”
The two boys darted into the thundering rain and the shadows that seemed to grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment. A crack thunder sounds and Michael swung the boy around, pressing him against the stonewall, while still keeping him at knifepoint. “Are you stupid boy! What in the hell were you thinking!”
Panicky. “Hey man, said that you wouldn’t kill me! You gave your word of honor!” Lucas protested.
“And what would that mean to the likes of you boy! What! Preying on helpless folk! You should be so lucky as not to know what I have seen!”
Michael’s gaze began to grow distant as pelting rains struck against his person, feeling the coldness of each teardrop as the blackness of the night began to penetrate his person. Midst images of darkness… the night now seemed to grow warm, echoing with raging fires and screams of agony as silhouettes of figures raised high on pikes moaning and crying in pain. He adorned in armor watching the terrifying spectacle… Michael pulling himself from shadows of visions regarded the boy and his terror struck expression.
The crack of thunder and lightening echoed against the night as he threw the boy across the alley into cans of rub age. Slowly he marched over to the boy and stood over him. “Boy, if I wanted to kill you and your friends I would have done it the very moment you came upon me.” Offering his hand to him. “What’s your name boy?”
The boy looking up at him not sure of what to make of him. “My name? You put a knife to my throat, and then you want to know my name?”
“Yes boy, I did, so what is your name.” He inquired again, throwing the blade down the alley and then extended his hand to him again. “Promise boy, I won’t hurt you. Think I gave you enough of a scare tonight.”
Slowly taking his hand, “Lucas. Lucas Blackthorne.” He stumbled abit trying to measure up the fellow while letting the strange fellow help him to his feet. He brushed himself off and then look to victim slash assailant, “So what yours Mister.”
“Michael Keer. Now fix yourself Lucas.” Lucas’ gaze drifted to where he had thrown the knife. His gaze began to drift to the shadows as the night seemed to grow still with a soul chilling coldness. “Don’t worry yourself about that toy of yours. That trinket of yours will just get you in trouble that’s all.” Pulling out a small pouch. “Here are a few coins, to get you and your friends on your way.”
Lucas looked down at the coins as their gold reflection shown against the blackness of the night.
A grin rolled up around Michael’s cheeks as Lucas started to try to bite the coins. “Don’t worry son, they’re real.” Handing him a small stiff piece of paper. “Here’s is where you may contact me.”
Squinting at the letters, he read out loud…

Little Wolfe Press
465 Angel Street

Little Brit (a city of wonders and sights)
Printing, Rare Books, Documents, and Antiquities…
Treasures of all sorts to delight your curiosities

With a smile, “Good you can read.”
“Of course I can read. I may be a thug, but I’m not an idiot!”
“That is one thing less I have to teach you.”
“Teach me?”
“Yes teach you. Show up at my shop tomorrow morning seven sharp and you can start working for me, should you desire to do so. That is little bit of gold for investing. You will need a job to tide you over until you think of something useful do with it.” Along pause echoed between them. “So what do you say?” Extending his hand. “Deal?”
Lucas measuring up the tall figure in his mind, regarded this strangle noble gentleman. “So sir, are you offering me a business proposition? What’s the catch?”
Michael stepped back and grinned at him for a moment. “So I see, you are a business man as well as an actor, and here I took you for common thug.” He uttered with a slight chuckle
“I can talk like a common folk when I need to sir, it helps me blend in, besides, I am, well was a gentleman in training, of sorts anyway, who in the past has fallen from his family’s grace, so I do what I need to make ends meet.”
“Well Lucas Blackthorne, since we are both gentleman and businessmen of sorts, my offer is simple. Come to my shop tomorrow, seven sharp and we will discuss the terms. If you like the offer you can stay, and we will discuss the terms of your employment. If you don’t like the terms you can leave, and should you find the arrangements to be unfair, or unprofitable you can leave at your own discretion. Now mind you, should you make that decision, the door may or may not be open to you, should you desire to return. So what do you say, do you find the conditions agreeable?”
Shaking Michael’s hand firmly. “I’ll give you a fair shake!” Lucas looked up at him as Michael’s iron grasp enfolded around his, looking deep into those sharp grey eyes of his as streams of white hair shadowed his stern forehead. “This man is no man to fooled with or to be a fool to.” He thought to himself. “There is more to this man… what I don’t know, but there is more to his to his tale than he letting on…”
A sharp grin crawled across Michael’s face. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“At seven sharp!” Lucas snapped back, and then looked down at his hand as he felt a stream of humid liquid warm his flesh. “Michael… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…” He uttered quickly realizing that it was Michael’s blood.
“Don’t worry about it, it is a small wound. I have had worse. Trust me Lucas.” With a sharp edged grin, “Oh Lucas that was your intention, or you wouldn’t have pulled your blade on me. Go on home. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“But…”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Go on home. You have an early start tomorrow.” Michael watched the silhouette of the young boy vanish into the nothingness of the night and then turned to Elizabeth. “Now Miss Elizabeth, let us get you home. It has been an eventful night.”
“Indeed it has Michael, indeed it has.” Elizabeth said half-shaken, looking to where Michael’s black cloak had darkened to a deep hue of crimson. “Are you alright Michael?”
“I will be fine Elizabeth. I would see you first home, and then I will tend to myself.” In silent admiration he thought, “The boy is good with a blade. That much I will give to him.” while a smile etched its way across his face. His smile then disappeared as the night and the pounding thunder of echoing rains came to haunt him with those many nights where rain, blood and earth came to mix with their spoils. His thoughts consumed with haunting questions. “When shall it all end, when? Innocence being cast into madness that men come to rage with sensibilities of righteousness and desperation… where does it end, where!” He kept asking himself, as he walked Elizabeth home.

<*>

1.3
From a pocket of night, a silhouette of a prowling figure lurched over, spying down on to the alley below. With a growling hiss, eyed Michael and then shot leap across the rooftops, disappearing into blackness.

Y

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