Marcus had never directly seen the founder’s face, but he had caught glimpses of him appearing in TV reports or in the occasional newspaper article. Out of all the founders of NIRV, the one he had seen the least was Rickle.
The man seemed to avoid the spotlight like a plague, shying away from public interviews and rarely making any appearances to greet even his most prestigious guests. The Dark Guild had done backhanded deals with some of the workers at NIRV before, it was how they had obtained their product lines, but even during those secret transactions, Rickle had remained a ghost.
He was an enigma in a world of notorious names, and now, on the day the Dark Guild was being torn apart, Rickle appeared out of nowhere. That alone set off alarms in Marcus’s mind, warning him to be cautious, because whatever this man wanted had to be serious.
“What is someone from NIRV doing here, and do you even know the full extent of my situation?” Marcus asked, wincing as he shifted. Pain flared through his body with every movement, each breath coming out as a ragged rasp.
He didn’t know if he could handle a fight against these two men right now, especially with his body on the verge of collapse. Maybe, he thought grimly, it was one of those situations where the enemy of your enemy became your temporary friend. At least, that was the hope he clung to for now, because he had nothing else left.
“We should move,” Dean said firmly. “Even though you sprayed him, I’m sure there will be those tracking his scent. Or who knows, they might be searching even harder now that the scent is gone. Either way, staying still isn’t an option.”
“ if you want to live. I’ll make it as simple as that,” Rickle added, his voice as flat and matter-of-fact as if he were discussing the weather. Marcus stared at him for a long moment, then slowly pushed himself off the wall, blood still crusted on his shirt.
He hated how weak he felt, but he knew he didn’t have much choice. The only location he had been planning to head toward was the other Dark Guild bases, and he had already accepted that they were likely all dead. If he returned there, it would only be to die alongside them.
They moved quickly through the backstreets, ducking between alleyways and slipping past shattered fences. Dean led them in silence, while Rickle walked like a man out for a stroll, his hands in his pockets and his eyes half-lidded as though none of this concerned him.
They broke in through the back door of a diner, slipping past the darkened kitchen, then passed through the staff exit and into another narrow street. From there, they ventured through the service corridors of several more restaurants and abandoned business avenues, navigating like ghosts who knew every shortcut in the city. Finally, after what felt like an endless maze of dimly lit halls and creaking stairs, they emerged into the back of a bookshop with several floors above it.
Rickle closed the door quietly behind them and locked it with a soft click. At last, it looked like they were going to stop and breathe.
“We’ve gone far enough without seeing sight of them, but they’re going to be looking all over for you in the city,” Rickle said as he produced the same spray bottle he had used earlier. He began misting it casually across the room and over Marcus’s tattered clothes. The faint smell of herbs and metal filled the air.
“What is that you’re spraying me with? Is it toxic?” Marcus asked, watching him warily. His voice was hoarse, but there was an edge of suspicion behind it. After everything that had just happened, he wasn’t in the mood for cryptic tricks.
“You’re heavily injured. Bleeding,” Rickle explained calmly. “So you stink. This is to cover up your scent. Although that’s all it does, it doesn’t change the scent, just masks it. It will work for a while to confuse them, but it won’t last forever. They’ll eventually pick up that something smells off, especially if they’re determined.”
“So this only buys time,” Marcus muttered. He slumped into an old chair, his arms draped over the rests. “And while it’s working, what? I just wait here for them to find me anyway?”
“It’s better that you’re in a place with other humans,” Rickle continued as though Marcus hadn’t spoken. “They’ll have to filter through dozens of overlapping scents. It won’t stop them if they get close, but it might keep them wandering in circles for long enough for you to move again.”
Marcus’s hands curled into fists on his knees. He was shaking, not entirely from fear but from exhaustion and frustration. “First, why are you helping me? Why did they attack? And why are they attacking all of the Dark Guild? Do you even know the reason behind it?”
Rickle’s eyes slid to him lazily, like a teacher tolerating a foolish question. “Why are you asking me something you already know yourself?” he replied. “It’s quite clear you understand why they attacked you, because of your association with a particular group.
I’m sure they warned you about them, just in case. What you probably didn’t expect was the scale of the assault. You didn’t think they were capable of such coordination, or that they’d risk this much to eliminate you.”
Marcus’s mouth opened, then shut again. He hated that Rickle was right. Somewhere, deep down, he had known this was coming, but he had hoped they wouldn’t be bold enough to try.
“As for why I saved you,” Rickle went on, “it’s because with your powers and talents, I believe you might still be useful. You could play an important role in what’s to come. But our journey together will have to end here. There isn’t much more we can do for you.”
Dean shot Marcus a look that was almost apologetic. “They can’t know of our existence,” he added simply.
Marcus slumped back in his chair. He didn’t fully understand why Rickle had gone this far to help him, but at least it didn’t look like either of them planned to kill him. That was something. “So I’m just going to be chased for the rest of my life,” he said quietly, “and stay in hiding. That’s all I can do?”
“Right now,” Rickle said, capping the spray bottle with a soft click, “there is only one place where you would be safe from them. One place where they will be hesitant to try and reach you. On top of that, they might be the only ones capable of protecting you.”
Marcus’s ears perked slightly at that, the first flicker of hope in hours. “There’s a group like that? Where?”
“You should head to Slough,” Rickle told him. His voice was calm but firm, the way someone might give final instructions before parting ways. “The Howlers will help you. But if you go to them, you must also do your best to aid them. This won’t be a sanctuary, you’ll have to prove your worth.”
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