Magic Rises

creatures with glowing hungry eyes watched us from their hidey-holes within the skeletal remains of the buildings. The magic flowed thick.
    Slayer felt nice between my shoulder blades. Comforting, like an old friend. Ahead of us Grendel trotted like an extension of night shadows, a giant monstrosity of a dog. People more knowledgeable than me in things canine swore that he was a full-blooded standard poodle that somehow had grown to Great Dane size and was born with the trademark Doberman color scheme. His hobbies included urinating, vomiting, and farting, preferably in my general direction and at the same time, but he was loyal and fought for me, which made him a good dog in my book.
    The horse flicked her ears. Jumpy. I missed Marigold. You could have ridden that mule through a battlefield of raging vampires, and she would’ve snorted in derision and kept going. My aunt killed Marigold in one of her futile attempts to wipe me off the face of the planet.
    Ahead Grendel did a one-eighty and strutted toward us, prancing, head held high. Something was in his mouth.
    “What does he have?”
    Derek focused. “I don’t know. Something dead and ripe.”
    A moment later I smelled it too, the stench of carrion. Grendel pranced closer. A dead raccoon, half-decomposed and dripping maggots. Why me?
    “Drop it. Trash, Grendel.”
    “Trash?” Derek asked.
    “That and sit are just about the only two commands he knows.” I sank an order into my voice. “Trash.”
    Grendel spat out the raccoon and stared at me in disgust.
    “It’s bad for you. Come on.”
    He gave the raccoon one long forlorn look and followed us down the street.
    We turned the corner. Ahead through the gap in the buildings, I could see the weak glint of the Mole Hole’s glass. I dismounted and tied the horse to a twisted metal rib of half-crumbled building. Derek joined me. We ducked into the scorched structure to the left, Grendel at our heels, climbed two sets of stairs, and stopped by a hole of a window.
    The Mole Hole stretched in front of us, a colossal glass dish sunken into the ground. To the far right people stood around a fire built in a bronze brazier. Above them a thick steel beam protruded from the husk of a building, supporting a large metal cage that hung from it, secured by several chains. A lone figure slumped inside the cage, too big to be human. I pulled binoculars from my pack and focused. The creature in the cage hugged his knees, his arms and legs disproportionately long and pale. His flesh had a weak blue tint, the muscle tough and knobby across his back. The wind stirred a mane of pale blue hair. Saiman. In his natural form, too. That didn’t normally happen.
    Saiman was a polymorph. He could reshape himself into a facsimile of any human body, any gender, any color, any age. Seeing his true form was exceedingly rare. I didn’t know if he was ashamed of it, but he went to great lengths to hide it.
    I passed the binoculars to Derek. He eyed the cage. His raspy voice was a quiet whisper. “Oh, the irony.”
    Given that Saiman had once caught him in a cage much like this one, I couldn’t disagree.
    He passed the binoculars back. I looked at the people by the fire. Six. If I were Tremblay, I’d put a couple of shooters in the surrounding buildings. The magic was up, so they’d have to rely on bows, and bows had a limited range. There were only two buildings close enough, this one and the one across the Mole and to the left.
    A faint scratching sound came from above us, metal sliding against the concrete. Derek looked up and held utterly still. A faint green fire rolled over his eyes. There was a wolf under the human skin, alert and cunning, and he was listening.
    On the ground Grendel panted, oblivious.
    A long minute passed. Another scrape. Either whoever it was on the floor above us couldn’t sit still or he was setting up a mount for his crossbow.
    We moved at the same time. I headed toward the staircase. Derek crossed the room and paused by a large hole in the ceiling. I climbed the stairs, pulling Slayer out of its sheath with a practiced smooth movement. Around me the dark building lay silent, the light from the pale sliver of a new moon coming through the holes in the walls. The dog followed me.
    I reached the landing. My heart sped up a bit. I missed this, sneaking through the night-drenched city not knowing what waited for me around the corner. I padded across the landing and glanced into the room. A man crouched by