Alchemystic by Anton Strout Read Free Book Online Page B

arms burning. “Shit.”

Six

Stanis
    I n the midst of the freedom of flying, a panicked sensation overwhelmed me like lightning coursing through my stone form, catching me so off guard that my body curled in on itself, my wings folding in around me. Stunned, I fell through the clouds toward the ground far below before something deep inside kicked in once more. I extended my body fully, arms and legs stretched out to the very tips of my claws until my wings extended, catching the air and carrying me aloft as I twisted and turned to avoid the buildings I had just been plummeting toward.
    The alarming buzz of the sensation stayed with me, settling into a slow burn at my center. The initial shock of it gave way to a forgotten but familiar calling, and I was struck with a memory—this was the sole purpose of what drew me to the night sky in the first place, this call to action. Without hesitation, I flew off, banking away from the glass wall of the nearest building, trying to ascertain where the pull of the sensation was strongest. A few aerial swoops in each direction told my body where the calling came from, and I followed the pull though the night sky, darting lower and lower between the buildings as I went. Even after so many years, speedstill exhilarated me, more so with a direct purpose at hand behind it.
    My eyes searched the streets below, taking in the lone figure of a woman hanging at the top of a fence within the close quarters of an alley. Another figure, this one hooded, came down another section of the alley, moving toward her, the gleam of a blade in his hand. Everything about this woman called out to me, and although I did not understand why, I desperately wanted to help her, whatever the source of her distress was. The one rule screamed out all-consuming in my head.
    Protect.
    I pressed myself lower in flight, twenty feet off the ground now, before swooping into the tight confines of the alley. Maneuvering was difficult here, but centuries of experience were on my side. I came down in front of the blade-wielding figure, landing on my feet as the man, still running, slammed into my chest, and I sent him flying into a large metal cube along the side of the alley that stank of rotting food.
    The figure stood, disoriented, until he noticed me there. He ran at me, stabbing with a shimmering blade in his hand. I did not think to move as the man lunged, sparks flying off my stone skin as the knife dragged down my chest. The gesture was futile, but it awoke something dark and furious inside me. I lashed out with my left arm, knocking the blade out of the attacker’s hand as something solid underneath the man’s skin gave way. He roared in pain, pulling his arm to his body, part of it sticking out at an odd angle from the rest of it.
How fragile these creatures are,
I thought. I had forgotten.
    The sound was almost inhuman and it would no doubt draw attention, which concerned me. That would violate the second of the rules, one of many rules that came as instinct to me more than anything.
Remain hidden from humanity.
I should leave, but the first rule held a stronger sway over me, and I simply could not leave this man here for fear of harm coming to the woman.
    The cries of my attacker faded, giving over to a pained whimper. I grabbed him by both his shoulders, digging my claws in, then leapt into the sky as he screamed. His addedweight forced me to correct my flight, lengthening the strokes of my wings, but it took only a second to adjust before I compensated, shooting straight up into the night sky. The pained man craned his head to look down. His whimper turned back into a fear-filled scream of panic as he wrapped his good arm around mine.
    I rose higher, ignoring his cries until we cleared the clouds and entered the quiet moonlit space above them. When I looked at the man again, his sounds of distress had ceased and the human stared at me with a mix of shock and wonder on his face. He examined me, my mix of carved