Taygion Ardwella wanted to put new meaning to the word haste. But even as he emerged from a man-sized sewer pipe and onto an underground road paved in slime-covered cobblestone, these guards were putting him to shame. And they were covered from head-to-toe in pristine, glinting steel plate too.

In his hands, Tay cradled a small wooden chest, no larger than a soup pot. It was insane to believe his so-far silent pursuers would want it back this badly. Then again, this was a big score.

And because the last thing he wanted was to give up, Tay flew over rickety wooden bridges and slid down more slick pipes. But the sound of hard leather boots slapping against the ground and steel plates clacking together never stopped following him. Whenever he looked, they were still right on his tail.

If they’d been back in his hometown of Pyrewood, this chase would’ve already gone a lot different. But they weren’t. They were in the city of Stormwall’s underbelly—Duskborough, and the single week Tay had been here hadn’t prepared him enough to shake these guards. The two of them were obviously more familiar with Duskborough’s shadowy roads and hidden paths, as they had no trouble staying on his heels even while encumbered .

Yet, these guards did seem out of place compared to the dank and dark recesses that made up the expanse of Duskborough. Everything down here had a bit of grime, or a bit of dirt on it. Not these guards though. Perhaps the only reason they’d not caught up to him yet was because they took generous amounts of time circumnavigating around every puddle and pile of refuse in their path.

Which meant these had to be topsiders. That was good. Tay could use that knowledge against them, because he wasn’t afraid of getting a little dirty if it meant saving his own life.

The road veered next to a running canal full of waters darker than shadow. After taking a moment to grip the small chest as tight as his fingers could and determining the waters were deep enough, Tay flung himself in without a second thought.

What should have been a splash felt more like a slow sinking as the waters grabbed Tay and pulled him along in their current. By the time Tay broke the surface of the water again, he could see the guards shrinking back into the darkness as they debated plunging in after him. They wouldn’t though. If they were scared of puddles, they’d be terrified of what had to be sewer water.

Scent aside, the water helped to soothe his tense muscles, and Tay leaned back to let it carry him wherever they’d lead. It didn’t matter. He had his prize, and he held it firmly out of the water above him.

It was a small, ornate thing. Oaken wood. Gold trimmings around it that curved into small swirls, almost like the currents of a river. And from how tightly it was sealed, he doubted any water had actually gotten inside.

Not that he knew what was inside, and if it could be ruined by water. He only knew how much coins it would fetch because of some loose tongues in a nearby bazaar. Even if those gents proved to be half right about this chest’s worth, he’d be able to return to Pyrewood with a small house in his name. Just the thought made his fingers tingle, and then grip the chest all the harder.

He’d never come across this sort of coin before. That’s what made this all the more exciting. His time as a thief had been nothing but necessity—stealing food, water, or sometimes clothes. Finally, a big score to make him honest. Only a week in Stormwall and he was already richer than some people back in Pyrewood. Moving to the city had been the right call, after all, even if it had taken years of carefully planning and putting aside coin from small burgles.

As to who those guards were that had chased him—that was a mystery. The chest had come from an unfortunate merchant’s shop with a loose vent in the back. The merchant had cried out not even moments after Tay had pilfered his prize, but had those guards been hired? Even though Duskborough was home to Stormwall’s lowlifes, it didn’t have any guards on detail.

“Oh well,” Tay said aloud, exhaling in the process. “Gone now. Best keep the thoughts to what really matters—payday.”

And as he relaxed in the current, one of the canal’s walls fell away to reveal the expansiveness of Duskborough. The whole subsection of the city was built underneath the massiveness that was Stormwall. Shops were built under struts, and markets were opened right alongside running sewer water. But from his vantage point, it all looked impressive, like a city under a city.

There were different tiers to Duskborough, which some of the locals just called bottomside, as they themselves were bottomsiders. Tay was currently on the uppermost tier, following the current of some foul-smelling waters that would eventually be filtered down into the lower levels. If one was looking for a place to buy and sell with topsiders, the uppermost tiers were the place to do it.

The further down one went, the more likely one was to be scammed, robbed, or flat-out murdered. Which was why Tay kicked with the current and brought himself to the edge of the water. What he hadn’t expected was to be plucked from the water the next instant, brought up by someone holding onto the back of his now-stinking tunic.

Tay found himself staring right into the steel-encased face of one of his pursuers. They must’ve known a shortcut.

He smiled. “Gentlemen,” he said. “Thanks for the hand. Now, if you’d put me down, I’m sure we could settle this disagreement like reasonable people.”

Without a word, both the guard holding him up and his buddy behind him drew their swords. The ring of naked steel emerging from their scabbards echoed down the underground road.

“See, now that’s a really good argument,” Tay said. “Here’s mine!”

A wiser person might have considered handing over the small chest to save their own lives. But wiser people probably hadn’t ever tried to eat their own shoes out of starvation before. There was no way Tay was going to go back to nothing. Not when he held so much worth in his hands. The fact that these guards were willing to kill him over it? That was nothing but a good thing.

So, Tay swung his body forward and planted a kick right above the collar of the guard who held him. The guard tried to swing his blade into him, but Tay’s blow knocked the guard back and away. That also forced him into releasing Tay.

Turning, Tay’s hip broke his fall against the slimy cobblestones on the side of the road. That all but stole his breath, but he forced himself to stand anyway. The guard he’d kicked had failed to regain his balance, and toppled into his buddy. But the buddy simply shoved his friend aside and stepped forward with his sword raised, ready to cut down Tay’s back should he try and flee.

“The box, runt,” this guard said. “Give it here.” And the guard held out his hand.

Tay’s grip on the chest only tightened. “Ah, so you’re more talkative than your friend.” And Tay looked over the guard’s shoulder to see the friend rising from where Tay had kicked him. “But let’s say that I don’t feel like being charitable. What then?”

“There’s no need for your hands to part with the box then,” the guard said, taking a stride. “Because I can part your hands from the rest of your body, cur!”

Tay leaped backward as the guard swiped at him with his blade. The sword cleaved through the air, and nearly sliced through the chest in the process, but Tay evaded out of the way, only to slip on the slick floor and land hard on his backside with a groan.

“Now we have you,” the guard said, raising his sword.

His friend came up just behind him, also brandishing his weapon. Maybe this chest wasn’t really worth dying for? But his fingers wouldn’t release the damn thing. It was like they knew the risk, but also the reward if he managed to get out of here alive. As that sword began to fall though, he could feel his fingers beginning to falter.

Then everything flashed white. And what sounded like a tornado echoed down the road. Tay shut his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was not looking upon two guards determined to impale him with their steel.

Instead, there was a four-legged beast the size of a small horse. It had an eagle’s head, with plumage so white that it glinted like powdered snow on a mountain’s side at noon. Four talons that looked like they could slice through the throat of any man gripped the cobblestones underneath it, where some of the grime on the road looked like it had been blow away by an explosion. But its most stunning feature were the two massive wings that reached upward and outward from its shoulders. These had feathers that were as long as Tay was tall, and when it beat them once, he could feel the wind pushing him back down into the ground.

The four-legged eagle screeched and its piercing cry echoed down the corridors. The guards had been knocked backward by its sudden appearance out of nowhere, but they were now gaining their ground again.

“The kid’s a runekeeper!” one shouted. “We should get the boss.”

“No,” the other said. “We can’t return empty-handed!”

And that guard rushed the creature, trying to stab at its chest with his sword. But his lunge wasn’t quick enough, and the creature ducked to the side and knocked his sword out his hand with a talon. The other guard tried hacking at the beast’s flank, but where his steel struck, only white sparks bloomed as if his blade was a hammer striking at an anvil.

The creature squawked, then lashed its feathery tail at the guard to knock him aside. And then, it turned to Tay.

Tay crouched, and was ready to plunge himself back in the waters again, when the creature suddenly lowered its head toward him. As the guards recovered, swearing and readying their blades again, the creature seemed to only hold him in deep respect.

Tay glanced down at the chest in his hands. Was it reacting to whatever was inside? Why would this creature not attack him when it had attacked the guards so indiscriminately?

“Come on, kid!”

Tay looked out over the canal and toward the open and dark expanse of Duskborough. There, across a fairly large gap, on the roof of a three-story marketplace, was a broad-shouldered man who glowed with the same snowy aura that completely encased the winged creature.

“You’re not going to get another chance,” the man shouted. “Get on it and get out of there before they muster up anything more dangerous than their steel!”

And from behind the knelt-over creature, the guards were again readying their steel for another bout. One tried running the creature through its hind leg, but whatever it was made of deflected the blow. The creature did shudder and squawk though, as if it could feel the sword bouncing off its hide.

It spun about and with a mighty beat of its two massive wings, knocked both guards back until they landed with their feet over their heads. Then the creature came to Tay, and without kneeling, swiped at him with its foretalons.

Tay raised a hand, but he did not feel pain. Well, he felt pressure against his shoulders. And then he felt the rushing of wind.

When he pulled his hand away from his face, he found that the ground had left him behind. Or, rather, quite the opposite.

He was ascending away from the road, with the majestic glowing beast having grabbed his shoulders by its talons. He could hear the shouts of the guards as the creature took him away.

And for one brief moment, everything seemed to fall away from Tay as the creature helped him ascend above one city and below another. He held tightly to the small chest, and hoped beyond all his being that whatever was inside proved worth this trouble.

“You!”

And Tay looked back, to see who had yelled. Standing in front of the two guards, who had their heads down and bowed, was a thin and yet tall man in robes the color of the shiniest emerald. He had brunette hair that had been gelled into spikes almost resembling wildgrass, and a scowl so powerful that Tay could feel the man’s enmity even from this distance.

“You’ve stolen something of mine, rat!” the man called out. “And you’re a fool if you think I’m not going to get it back. There’s no place you can hide from me. No place you can run. If you think you can escape from House Polamund, you’re an even bigger fool than my guards took you for.”

And the man in glimmering robes raised his right hand. In it, though Tay had to squint, he saw the man held something about palm-sized, rectangular, and completely flat between his index and middle finger. It glowed—actually glowed-—with blackness, as if shadows were trying to escape whatever it was. These shadows grew, until they began to swirl about the man like a cloak of living darkness.

Then the man flung his wrist forward, and the glowing object shot out into the air before erupting into a burst of blackness. Shadows grew from it, and where once had been something not unlike a tarot card, now flew a darkened figure with wings of a size to rival Tay’s savior.

The figure itself looked like it was made entirely out of obsidian or some sort of polished volcanic stone. Where the creature carrying Tay looked more beast-like, this new one was fashioned in the shape of a man, but was nearly twice Tay’s height and seemed more of a statue than a living creature. Its shadowy face would have been its most terrifying feature, had it also not been wielding a halberd with a blade that could cleave entire wagons in twain with a single stroke.

“What is happening?” Tay cried. “All I wanted was my one break!”

“Kid! You’re going to have to jump for it!”

Tay looked down to notice that the winged creature had flown him directly over the man who glowed with its same white aura. Even though Tay was still about twenty feet or so above the man, he could see how powerful his arms were, and how stocky his build was, as if he’d been a blacksmith or metalworker his entire life.

As if in response to what the man had said, the winged creature’s grip on his shoulders loosened, and Tay felt his insides squirm. With his free hand, he clutched at the leg of the creature, which squawked in turn, but kept flying.

“Jump, kid! I’ll catch you!”

Tay looked back just in time to see the statue-like figure soar into the winged creature. It raised its giant halberd, and with a long swipe, sliced straight through. The winged creature cried out in a loud screech, and then burst into a shower of sparks.

The force of the swipe plus the creature’s demise threw Tay’s body to the side, and he began to plummet through the air. His body spasmed from the force of the explosion, but through it all, he kept his fingers buried into the sides of the small chest. He would not give it up. If he was to die here, then he’d die rich, with a fortune in his hands.

“I got you!”

And Tay’s world lurched as he felt two massive arms close around him and cradle his fall. Then the stranger set him back on his feet again, and Tay finally got a good look at him. The white aura had vanished, and what was left was a man that Tay wouldn’t have picked a fight with even on his best days.

Though his hair line was all but gone, two massive bushy eyebrows were set low over his dark blue eyes. Rosy red cheeks framed a small grin, which a thick blond horseshoe mustache helped to contain. Though the arms that had plucked him from the sky were strong enough to wrestle a bear, the man’s waist told more of a relaxed and perhaps gluttonous lifestyle.

As Tay sized him up, his world began to sway, and he felt the ground pulling him down. There was nothing behind him but open space and a road far, far below. Thankfully, the man reached out and gripped him by the shoulders.

“Kid! Kid, you okay? Stay with me, kid. What’s your name?”

“Uh, uh, it’s Tay.” He shook the dizziness out of his head and leaned forward again. “Sorry, head’s feeling a little light.”

“Tay? Nice to meet you, Tay. My name’s Mondromo, and yeah, tumbling twenty feet from the sky only to be caught in my iron grip will do that to you. But time to swallow your nerves and follow me. Unless you want to meet the end of that halberd again.”

Tay looked up to see the shadowy figure circling around the interior of Duskborough. It soared over a couple of tall shops, and underneath a bridge only to set its gaze upon him once more.

Fingers clutching the chest, and feet happy to be back on the ground, Tay happily followed Mondromo into a narrow alley and off of the roofs. The alley must’ve proved too small for the shadowy figure, because aside from its snarls, all that he heard was the sinking of its halberd into wood, defeated.