Besides Carmen three women worked in the linen room. They called themselves “the linen ladies” and conveniently for Alden and Imogen they all lived within a block of each other on Steak Street near the slaughterhouses. Their street ran right along the outer wall as the slaughterhouses were built up against it.

When Imogen questioned Dale he said each building had a grate that drained into the sewer to allow blood and offal to wash out of the city. He’d hastened to reassure them that the grates were fixed in place and that two more secured the exit from the city. Not to mention the drains were only a foot in diameter. Far too small for a person to slip through. Alden had shared a look with Imogen and thanked Dale before the two of them rushed out into the city yet again.

“What a mess,” Alden said.

He and Imogen floated in the sky above Steak Street surveying the damage. The working class district had suffered the greatest damage they’d seen so far. Whole blocks lay in ruins. Only the slaughterhouses themselves, being built of stone, had escaped the worst of the damage.

“It’ll be a miracle if they’re still alive to be questioned,” Imogen said.

Alden could only agree. In the distance thunder rumbled. All they needed now was a rain storm to add to their misery. They landed, he pulled the scroll out, and consulted the new information Dale had provided. Based on the nearest building numbers they were two blocks south of where they needed to be. Alden hadn’t taken more than a handful of steps when Imogen grabbed his arm.

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

Alden concentrated. He sensed a faint flicker of something, but couldn’t tell what. The lowing of cows came from a nearby building.

“It’s coming from there.” Imogen crossed the street and went toward the cows. Alden clenched his jaw and followed.

She hadn’t gotten over halfway across when the moos turned to pained screams. Alden had never heard animals make a noise like that. It reminded him a little of some of the prisoners he’d questioned.

They stopped at the closed door of the slaughterhouse. “I sense corruption.”

Alden felt it as well and if he could sense it the source had to be close. “Not too strong. Certainly not a demon.”

“No, but if not a demon then what?”

That was an excellent question. Unfortunately the only way to answer it was to open the door and take a look. Imogen conjured her golden armor and ax then looked at him. Alden sent power to his shield and nodded.

Imogen pushed the door open and the coppery tang of fresh blood washed over them. Alden sent globes of light into the dark building. Ten stalls covered the back wall. Four of them held dead cows. A small stream of blood ran across the stone floor and down the drain in the center of the building. The grate lay on the floor about three feet away, the edges of the steel seemingly melted.

“So much for the pipes being secure,” Alden said.

A hiss came from one of the stalls along with the sound of tearing meat and smacking lips. Alden gagged, but swallowed his nausea. Imogen gestured and the stall doors swung open. The sounds stopped and three heads popped up from behind one of the carcasses. Burning red eyes bore into the intruding sorcerers.

For a moment Alden thought they were dogs, but the muzzles were too long and narrow. The fur only grew in patches and where the fur ended bone spurs poked through the creatures’ flesh. One of them climbed up on the dead cow. It had a long, ringed tail that ended in a spike dripping greenish fluid. Everywhere the glop hit smoke rose.

“They’re raccoons,” Imogen said, disbelief clear in her voice.

“Maybe they were raccoons, but now I’m not so sure.”

The other two climbed up beside the first and all three hissed. Another hiss came from above them. Three more pairs of red eyes stared down at Alden. He sent more lights up into the rafters. A trio of twisted animals leered down at them, their tails dripping acid on the floor.

“You want the three in the rafters or the three by the cow?” Imogen asked.

Alden wanted to go for reinforcements, but that didn’t appear to be an option. Imogen lunged toward the three on the ground, her golden ax flying ahead of her. The freakish raccoons dodged the whirling blade and split up.

A stream of acid spattered against his shield, reminding Alden that he had his own opponents to deal with. He sent a handful of blades streaking into the rafters. One blade sliced a raccoon on the side, but the nimble creatures dodged the rest.

Two of them raced for the open door. Alden concentrated and a golden dome surrounded the building. They couldn’t have demonic raccoons running around the city, the normal ones caused enough trouble.

The two that ran looked back at him and hissed. A shout from behind him indicated Imogen was having problems of her own.

Alden sent more blasts at the raccoon still in the rafters, but it dodged them all. He clenched his jaw. Ranged attacks weren’t going to get the job done. The targets were too small and fast.

He conjured a globe around the raccoon. It lasted an instant before the monster shattered it with its tail. The acid burned through his thin construct like it was nothing.

More acid spattered his shield and he had to reinforce it or get his back melted. His opponents outflanked him in every direction.

Alden surrounded himself with a conjured sphere and put half his remaining power into it. The acid would take a while to burn through that. He spun and found Imogen standing over the corpse of one raccoon while the other two ran around her squirting acid and dodging her ax. Her golden armor looked ragged. She must not have enough power left to repair the acid damage.

He flew down and brought her into his barrier.

“What are you doing?” Imogen glared at him.

“The two of us aren’t enough. I can’t even hit mine, much less kill them. We need help. I can maintain our defenses if you send a message to the archmage.”

Imogen’s face looked like she’d bitten into a lemon. “Very well. I just hope they arrive before either the dome or bubble give out.”