CHAPTER ONE

Moonlight spilled out over the sleepy village as if from an overturned paint can. It poured across chipped cobblestone alleys and cracked winding asphalt streets. Windows glittered with splashed up light and brush strokes of luminescent gray covered the concrete walls of squat identical houses and taller buildings as some of them sagged and crumbled. Errant droplets dotted the rooftops made of terracotta--many missing shingles-- in silver efflorescence. The moonlight painted on an ethereal glow to the very few cars that lined the streets and the bicycles sat tied against many racks and poles. Between the racks stood scraggly trees with most of their leaves gone.

Stars blanketed the cloudless inky sky. One could make out most of the constellations without a telescope.

The air sat still in the hushed darkness but sent a chill over everything just the same. It smelled of fresh rain and melted snow.

Bushes housed the various glowing eyes of night creatures as they foraged and the day creatures huddled up to conserve warmth. A group of crows took flight as something disturbed their slumber.

Cym Aerwyna sprinted through a side alley as her fire-engine red hair whipped behind her away from her pink tinged pale face. Adrenaline spread through her veins and her heart kept time with her feet but did not race. Her breath slid in and out of her rose colored lips with measured swiftness and plumed smoke into the cold. Cym's bright blue eyes flitted around in high alert taking in every nuance of her surroundings in rapid succession as she moved. They noted every vehicle and every alley, searching for places one could hide. A black boned bodice cinched at her small waist and touched the top of a pair of black denim shorts. Thigh-high charcoal boots with silver buckles down the sides expertly guided her in silence. The long silver chain that carried the little globe of light and protection on a Celtic cross felt cold tucked inside against the upper part of her flat stomach Two daggers in wrist sheaths, two more at her hips and a 9mm Beretta in a side holster gave Cym a heavy sense of calm and security. Billowing behind her-- and used for covering her weaponry-- was a black trench coat which hid pouches of powders and various stones for spells. Cym kept prepared.