Ahead of me was a mouth framed by black feathers and slobber, glinting with giant teeth larger than my body. Its immense cheeks pulled in a snarl.

“Go away!” the mouth roared. A blast of air pushed me back. “Or I’ll gobble you up!”

“Try it!” I shouted, and ran screaming at the monster.

The monster roared. It rushed forward then vanished into a puff of feathers. I slowed, finding nothing to slam against.

Feathers continued to spin as they fluttered, giving way to a new scene. In the middle of what had been a giant monster’s face was a large crow. It shook and hopped to the side.

I raised an eyebrow while huffing.

“One day you’ll break free,” the raven said in a familiar and foreign voice. It cawed, scratched the ground, and hopped.

This was a voice I knew, but couldn’t quite place. It felt like a memory but at the same time, I was living the moment.

“My charms cannot hold back the hurricane of your mind forever,” the raven said. Female, then it hit me where I’d seen that shade of black before. It was Muni, but she’d never looked like an outright bird.

I could almost remember her changing shape, like a wolf might, but the recollection slipped away. The bird’s face blurred but I could make out feathers intermingled with strands of jet black hair. A pale set of features appeared, with nervous eyes.

My head banged against something solid.

“When the trinket wears off—” The phrase stuttered and repeated. Feathers abruptly lifted then flew in all directions, blocking portions of my sight. Her body was buried under the swirl of feathers.

My head banged against the material from before. Other noises teased the edge of my senses. A third bang shattered the memory of Muni’s warnings. Strange sensations flooded in, nothing like the ones I’d been feeling a moment ago. My eyes unwillingly opened. I hadn’t realized they were closed. An indistinguishable sensation jostled me repeatedly. Words were being said in a frantic whispering I couldn't make out. My thoughts ran askew from the sane.

I felt beyond exhausted. The tank was empty and fumes ran out miles ago. Parents of triplets exist for years at this level. Lawyers working extensive cases suffer through. Students working two jobs and a full course load deem it worthwhile. This was the price for my actions.

Every race had a price for their abilities that put them beyond the pale of normal humans. That was the balance imposed in the eons gone by. I'd never thought to ask why we had downsides, or who had imposed them.

Was it God, perhaps?

“Come on!” a male shouted.

“We must escape. We can’t be caught here. You know where they’ll send us!” a second man who sounded exactly the same responded from a different direction.

“Atlas is a death trap,” the first replied.

My senses tried to get a feel for the world and kept falling apart. Their terse words bounced around, hitting different objects. Voices mashed against unfamiliar materials. My eyes were open, seeing images, but I had no idea how to quantify the actions about me. Bright lights flickered behind us which hurt my eyes.

Why couldn't I have an easier price? Wolves had strength, reactions, and regenerated quicker than a human. They could communicate with their pack members. In exchange they had feral instincts to control coupled with an overriding need for hierarchy and leadership. Their biggest weakness was a fatal allergy to silver. No worse than peanuts in today's society.

“Father's waiting! Do you need help, runt?” one of the duplicate voices yelled.

“No!” a strained sounding younger person answered. The word originated next to my head. I couldn’t piece together the sensation of being jostled with their locations.

Someone carried me. That’s why we jostled around. I struggled to lift any limb and gain some control. The world spun, my eyes rolled and started to close again. Grogginess plagued me. I'd be dead asleep right now if given a choice.

Vampires had it much better. They were able to taste the air and see in complete darkness. Each one could be nearly serpentine in their grace with an alien allure that drew humans to their presence. Agelessness, speed, and the ability to ignore mental limitations on strength were all attractive. Their price was simple in its rules; a high chance of dying upon conversion and the constant thirst for fresh blood.

“Over here! It's clear!” the farthest twin said. That made three people, at least, around me. The youngest carried me. The twins spoke with sharp cracks of noise. Their words echoed and demanded attention.

In the background hounds bayed. Not wolves, but real live dogs. They were on the hunt. Their howls and yips got stuck in a loop of thought which played over and over until one of the twins shouted, “Dogs!”

“Go!” the younger male carrying me responded.

“Don't order us, runt!” one of the twins yelled. My eyes could barely see the edge of a large set of teeth jutting upward but nothing else about the face stood out.

“I am still your brother, afford me some respect!”

“He’s right. We must run while we can!” the twin said.

Their words garbled and mushed together. They were clear, but my mind told me how they sounded was a lie. My mind was muddled but they reminded me of Roy, the bouncer at Bottom Pit.

“I will escape or face punishment with honor!” the young one carrying me insisted.

Even the hurdles elves handled seemed downright cheery in comparison. Facing a nearly crippling addiction might be doable. Surviving their strange customs with each other, the constant games of leadership and successions, or house politics that stretched out over centuries could be done. It'd be worth it for their grace, the communion with nature, an extended lifespan, or potentially casting illusions.

Around me, tree branches bent and snapped. The sound of shouts, dogs, and gunfire continuously crawled through the terrain. Above, a large metal object subdued the laws of gravity with force. Air crashed in waves as blades spun.

Instead of something sane, something normal, I was stuck with different burdens. My gifts were tracking, strength, and speed. The latest trick was turning into a giant fire breathing creature and grumbling at lowly peasants. The price was falling asleep at the worst possible time. What else was there? How many things about my very nature were tied to the race I belonged to? Then the question hit me; hadn't my father taught me better?

The surroundings slowly made more sense. My world was sideways, almost inverted because I was hanging over another person's shoulders. My eyes rolled shut as waves of sleepiness tried to drag me back to the blissful silence my body desperately needed. Someone ahead ran a path through the trees. They looked like a rhino charging past brush when we should be led by a panther.

One leg hurt still from being shot by Daniel. Muscles along my side and chest bounced against huge shoulders. Bruises ached along with fresh scrapes from the trees. Near misses of gunfire left nasty trails of red on a flopping forearm. There were wounds in too many places to keep track of.

I attempted to view the face of the man carrying me. It was impossible to make out completely. His body was large and barrel chested with a tattoo wrapped around the far shoulder.

“Runt.” I fumbled the word.

The figure ignored me, chose an escape route, and bounded off again. Behind us the sound of pursuit increased. Overhead something shining intense lights down through the trees kept our position obvious.

“Leave me,” I managed to speak.

That tattoo meant he was one of Roy's boys. He had three sons, tiny creatures growing rapidly, only that was then and this was now. They were no longer small boys on the verge of being giants. My mind drifted, thinking of the trees during one moment, then smashing together random bits of the past.

Julianne's face was almost a blur now. A year later and I could barely remember it. Her footsteps were always light. The curve of her brow had been a solid line of thin and plucked hair that formed whenever she got confused. She had brown eyes that turned amber from the side.

“Brother!” one of the two ahead shouted.

“You go! Tell Father!” the man carrying me responded.

“We will,” the other twin said. I sleepily called up the other name for him, One of Two, my other mind had called him. Or Two of Two. Hell, I was losing focus again and struggled to control my thoughts into a coherent line. Instead, my mind got stuck trying to remember how to count past three without using my fingers.

“We have you surrounded! Cease and surrender!” an artificially loud voice said. I wondered if God sounded as demanding as the person floating above us inside the creation of metal.

Black spots appeared. The image burned through like wallpaper burning away to reveal an old layer. Feathers wove into the empty spaces. When my eyes closed an image of Kahina appeared in the blank spots, a snippet of time before we parted. We were happier then. I stared at nearly ruby eyes. Julianne smiled and looked at us from the side. Both were half drunk and someone had just told a terrible joke. Only Julianne was dead now.

The memory shattered, leaving behind the oppressive battering air of our helicopter pursuit. Whoever carried me sounded ragged. His breath came in short gasps. He had an extra two hundred and fifty pounds slung over his shoulder, getting this far was a miracle.

“This was a terrible idea.” My attempted rescuer sounded upset at himself. His head constantly whipped side to side. Our path took a sudden turn to the side, breaking away from the other two we'd been running behind.

Other moments passed through in flashes. Most of them made perfect sense until I paid attention. Nothing clicked right.

“Halt!” the man from above yelled.

I felt guns being grasped and adjusting to point in our direction. Their distinctive sound caused our frantic escape to cease.

The person carrying me backed up, then tried to put up his hands into the air. He dropped me to the ground without the slightest kindness for my situation. I slowly rolled to my back, not because I'd wanted to, exhaustion and gravity were winning.

I finally saw a clear face to the person who had been carrying me. It was Roy’s youngest child. His name hit me, along with half a dozen other flashes of the past that had been buried. There were too many forgotten aspects of my life that were working to the surface at once.

“Leo,” I labeled him.

Other moments flooded by as my eyes tried to focus. Things surfacing were both pointless and vital to the man I was. Bits of the past that defined my actions, giving me reason for what was happening.

“Turn around!” Someone's voice pelted the area again, amplified to an unreasonable level.

Leo turned slowly, looking down at me, his face a mess of dirt and grime. There were leaves in his clothes and hair along with piles of mud on his boots.

My eyes rolled back as two grown figures tried to tackle Leo to the ground. I almost managed a smirk as I watched the runt resist them. A third figure joined in and their combined weight forced the tiny hulk down. His face planted unkindly next to mine. I tried to watch him. Tried to give him some iota of respect for his defiance and attempted rescue.

But retaining consciousness proved too much. The world went black, as it too often did.