The Thunder Egg

THE MIST HAD THICKENED. Two minutes ago, Afra had been able to read the writing on the shop fronts. Now, she could hardly see the signs. Her pulse pounded. She shouldn’t have come this way, even if it was the fastest route back to the spaceport. She walked on, the sound of her footsteps muffled in the heavy air. Just a few more blocks and she’d be out of Old Port and its narrow, winding, cobblestoned alleys. Huh. The tourists thought it was picturesque. It was a great place to get mugged. Afra tightened her fingers around the reassuring bulk of her pistol’s butt nestled in her jacket pocket and aimed for the feeble glow of a streetlight. At least the weather would have put off the thugs.

Something slammed into her chest.

Afra’s heart went into overdrive as she jolted to a halt, staring down at the creature clutching her chest. Wide dark eyes stared up at her. She could almost feel the plea. Footsteps thudded nearby.

“It can’t be far. Look that way.” A male voice, rough and urgent.

The creature, whatever it was, squawked and disappeared into the darkness. A bird? Some sort of flying thing, at any rate. Odd. A strange thing to find in Old Port. The people here would eat anything. Footsteps sounded in the fog. Something approached, a moving beam of light preceding it lighting up the walls and corners as it came. Afra licked dry lips. A man with a torch, it had to be. No point in hiding, then. He was looking for something but it wouldn’t be for her. Willing her heart to stop pounding, Afra clutched the pistol in her pocket and walked on. The man approached, shining the torch at her face.

She squinted at the unaccustomed brightness. “Do you have to do that?”

“Sorry.” The torchlight reflected on the damp stones at her feet. “I’m looking for a… a bird. It’s escaped. From a medical institution. Very dangerous. We have to find it. Have you seen anything like that?”

He leaned at her, far too close. Afra inched back a little. He was making it up as he went. The creature she’d seen hadn’t seemed dangerous, although size wasn’t the only measure of being dangerous. Even so…

“No. Haven’t seen anything. I can barely see my hand in front of my face.” She illustrated, waving her hand back and forth.

He was weaving the torch around again, lighting up the walls like a searchlight. “Okay. If you do find it, or see it, let us know. It’ll be worth your while.” He managed a lopsided grin. “If you can’t find us, go to the Smugglers Rest and ask for Jok.”

“Sure, Jok. I’ll do that.” In his dreams. No way in the world would she set foot in the Smugglers Rest. Her father’s warnings about that cesspit had been absolutely right.

The fellow strode past her around the corner and into the maze that was Old Port. She took a deep breath and swallowed. She’d put him down as one of the better class of thugs, not the simple smash-and-grab sort. He had the look of muscle for hire. Oh well. None of her business. She had deliveries to make.

She shivered. The cold and damp were getting to her, right through to her bones. The sooner she was out of here, the better. Maybe next time she had to come to Nueva Porto, Torville would have moved his offices closer to the spaceport.

She’d taken three steps when the bird was back, latching on to her jacket with its claws. It stared at her.

“What’s up, little guy?” she asked.

The creature let go and fluttered away, then returned. It repeated the performance, fixing her with its disturbing eyes each time it came back.

“You want me to come? Okay.”

It seemed to understand, letting out a musical trill and going a little farther, glancing over its shoulder to see if she was coming. Afra glanced around. The last thing she needed was Jok and his mates to turn up but the fog was even thicker here, swirling around her feet like some sort of many-tentacled alien. The creature was just up ahead, hovering in front of a dark entrance. It made sure she was coming, then disappeared inside.

Afra stopped. Oh shit. Maybe this was some kind of trap? Get the bird or whatever it was to lure her in and then…

The creature appeared again, those black-as-darkness eyes pleading.

Afra sucked in a deep breath and followed, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom in what was little more than a slit between the buildings. Her nose wrinkled. Somebody had used it as a latrine not so long ago. The bird landed on a heap of rubbish. It squeaked, a mournful tone.

The heap of rubbish moved and groaned. It wasn’t a heap of old rags, it was a person.

Afra crouched beside the figure. Male, age indeterminate. “Are you all right?” What a stupid thing to say. Of course he wasn’t all right. And she had an idea why. The little beast sat on his chest, angling her long neck to look at his face, squeaking softly.

He tried to sit up. “I’m… fine, Neyru. Don’t fuss.”

Neyru. That must be the creature’s name.

The man flailed, struggling to get up, his feet slipping on the cobbles.

He wasn’t going to be able to stand up by himself and it wasn’t as if he’d be able to do anything to her in this state. Afra slipped an arm under his shoulders and helped him to his feet. Using her as support, they shambled out of the alley back to the road. He was a head taller than her. Dark hair escaped from a ponytail trailed around his face.

“Were you attacked?”

“Uh, yeah. Three guys.” He patted his clothes. “Didn’t steal anything. Thanks. I’ll be okay now.”

Neyru flapped her wings and squawked, her gaze on Afra’s face.

“I don’t think your pet agrees with you. What if I help you home?”

“No, I’ll—”

Neyru squawked again.

“Shh, Neyru.” Afra put a finger to her lips. “We don’t want the nasty men to find you.”

The man started, staring with round eyes. Afra put her arm around his waist and helped him down the path. “Better tell me where we’re going.”

“The… the Trader’s Arms. I’ve got a room there.”

The Trader’s Arms. Afra had stayed there once, a couple of years ago. Respectable, on Barracks Road at the edge of the old town, the sort of place a mid-level merchant would stay, which was what she was back then. “I know it. It’s not far.” Which was just as well. Her new companion wasn’t a lightweight.

Muffled voices drifted through the fog. Afra looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of torchlight. The man tensed and picked up his pace.

“Steady on. They’re looking for—”

“Neyru. I know.”

Afra looked around for the little beast but she’d disappeared.

Interesting. The fellow was definitely… what? Frightened? Why wouldn’t he be? But also puzzled. “So, they’re not just your ordinary muggers?”

“I don’t think so. They didn’t take my wallet, kept asking where the ‘critter’ was.”

“Why?”

Wide, wary eyes turned to her. “She’s… unusual.”

“Uh-huh. An escapee from a medical center?”

He frowned. “No. Where did you get that from?”

Neyru appeared, her wings a blur as she hovered in front of them. Afra wasn’t sure how she knew, but she received an impression of two men following and an imperative to hide. She slowed, looking for a place but Neyru cheeped, hovering over a half-open cellar door. The place hardly looked inviting but the sound of muffled voices was coming closer. “In there. Hurry.”