Page 17 of Scion

The Hed dives again; I fling myself into a cave—little more than a small hollow in the rock—and scramble as deep as I can. The giant owl lands about five metres away. I swear the ground shakes. Its wings blot the last of the light before they slowly fold along its back.

It comes toward me with a hopping, mesmeric sway that doesn’t seem to touch its head. It reaches the cave entrance and bends to peer inside. Curved beak scraping stone, then snapping a few times not more than a metre from my face before slowly retreating. It’s too big to squeeze through the opening.

More than big enough to completely block my only way out, though. They need a better name. Owlephants? Colossowls? So many good options. What does Hed even mean? I watch it watch me. Creepy giant owl face barely visible in the dying light. It settles in.

Probably waiting for the snake, now that I think about it.

Old Woman’s right. I can’t afford to be doing this all night.

Screw it.

“Hey… ah, you,” I call cautiously out the cave entrance. “Look. Your master’s in trouble and I need to get back to the house to protect her. So I’m surrendering.” Feels really damned stupid to be talking to a bio. Still. “Please don’t eat me?”

Its unsettlingly wide eyes don’t leave me, but it bobs slightly. Or was that my imagination? I activate my somatics. Feel my skin thickening, hardening. Not that it would stop those talons from slicing clean through pretty much any part of my body, but it does make me feel slightly better about what I’m about to do.

Very slightly.

“Alright. I’m coming out now. Niiice monster,” I say in a soothing voice, edging forward and holding my hands up, palms outward, in what I hope is an obvious sign of surrender. The Hed doesn’t twitch, even as I reach the entrance. Good start. Maybe they really are as intelligent as Old Woman said. “Now listen closely. I’m going to carefully grab onto your claws, and then you can…” It’s walking forward. Towering above me. Way too close. “Steady, big guy. I just need a good grip and I can—”

A flash of talon, and it’s knocking me from my feet. Claws wrapped around my left leg.

“A… little… tight,” I manage to grunt out between gritted teeth as I swat vainly at the claw, trying to reduce the crushing pressure that would surely snap any regular person’s bones. I stop as its wings spread, blocking out the world. “Oh. Oh, no.”

We take off.

THE FLIGHT BACK TO THE house is, I feel justified in saying, less than pleasant.

I’m dangling upside down for most of it, of course. Alternately yelling curses at the Hed to ease up on my leg, which I’m no longer convinced has blood flowing through it, and mildly concerned that the thing will actually listen. The creature, fortunately or not, ignores me, flying low and fast along the forest. Too low, at points. I need to do some wildly swinging stomach crunches to avoid several treetops to the face.

I don’t manage to do all of them in time, either.

The five minutes it takes for the house to appear below feels like one hell of a lot longer.

Appear it does, though, eventually. Small at first. Then larger at an alarming rate as the Hed dives. Just before I’m sure I’m about to be delivered at an entirely unnecessary speed into the ground, the Hed’s wings unfurl and it slams to a stop midair just a few metres short. The relief I feel that the motion hasn’t torn off my leg is tempered by the realisation that there’s no pressure on it at all any more.

Some twisting midair acrobatics, and my somatics, prevent any serious injury as I hit the grass. I still glower up at my ride. “Didn’t have to be a jerk about it.”

The Hed chirps, then turns and launches itself back toward the EMP ring.

I take quick note of its direction—there’s a possibility it’s picked up Old Woman’s trail and is heading her way—and then duck behind a nearby low wall, allowing some hurried self-assessment. Scratches across my arms and face, mostly. I massage my left leg, then carefully ease off its pain-blocking revs. There’s the sharp prickle of blood still gushing back into it, and definitely some tenderness. Not anything problematic, though. If I had to guess, I’d say the internal reconstructive work is still intact.

There’s no one at the house entrance, and Old Woman will have disabled the cameras along with all the other security. I stand straight. Stamp until the needles in my left foot vanish.

Move.

The door is unlocked; I slip in silently, cognitive revs primed. There’s empty silence. It’s a massive house; the intruder could still be moving room to room, or—more likely, in my opinion—scouting using the fish tank. It’s what I’d do. What any half-decent assassin would do as long as they had air in reserve, actually. The damned thing covers most of the house, and half of it’s concealed from view. If only every lifer had one installed.

I keep my cogs primed as I slip smoothly down the first flight of stairs. Now I’m no longer dangling thirty metres above the ground like some sort of flesh-trophy, I’m feeling better about the situation. So much of protection is preparing to react. Waiting to react. Hoping there will be no reason to react. But this? Sneaking into a building to kill another assassin, who may or may not know I’m coming?

This is much more my speed.

The house sensors are off, and the digiglass roof maintains its perfect imitation of the near-dark sky outside, no gentle ambient light to guide my path. I flit along hallways, using my revs as much as my eyes to check rooms as I pass, part of my focus always on the rippling beneath my feet. It’s not the end of the world if my opponent spots me from the tank—EMP shielding on the intake pipe will have ensured they don’t have the tech to shoot from underwater through reinforced glass—but ideally, their first inkling that I’m here will be my Ceramic opening something vital.

I reach the stairs and start heading down. Schools of smaller fish glitter as they dart amongst strands of seaweed to my left and right.

My revs prickle.

There’s nothing physical. No movement I’ve spotted, no discrepancy. But there’s something. Farther in, hidden deep amongst the thick kelp and rocks and sand on my left. I keep my downward motion smooth, as if I haven’t noticed. Damn it. They’ll have seen me. Not a stupid spot to hide; whoever’s in there will have a clear view not only of the stairs, but the entryway room above. Old Woman would have been gone by the time the assassin made it here, so they won’t know their target’s absconded.