The growls were closer now.
Kael felt them in his chest more than he heard them. A low grinding came up through the stone. It settled behind his ribs and stayed there. Heavy. Foreign. Like something pressing from the inside.
Lira walked beside him. Her hand was pressed flat against her sternum. He noticed she was matching her breathing to his without seeming to realize it. Or maybe she did. Maybe she just needed something to hold onto.
"How many do you think," she asked. Her voice was quiet.
"Three at least. Maybe more."
"They are fighting over something. I can hear it."
"Or getting ready to. Sometimes the sounds before are worse."
She looked at him. Her eyes were tired in a way that went past sleep. "You learned that in the orphanage."
It was not a question. He answered anyway. "The older ones would circle first. Make noise. Let you know it was coming. The waiting was the worst part. At least when it started, you knew it would end."
Lira was quiet for a moment. Then she spoke again.
"I used to hide in the cupboard. When my father came home. He would walk through the flat calling our names. His voice was soft, like he missed us. But I knew what happened when he found us. So I would sit in the dark and listen to him call my name in that soft voice. And I would wait for him to give up."
She paused. Her hand pressed harder against her chest.
"He never gave up. He would find me every time. And I would sit there thinking, maybe this time he will leave me alone. But he never did."
Kael did not know what to say. He just walked beside her. After a while, her hand drifted over. She hooked one finger around his. Not holding. Just touching. Like she needed to know he was still there.
The street narrowed. The buildings leaned in from both sides. The grey slit of sky was just a pale thread above them.
The growls grew louder. They separated into distinct voices.
One was deep and grinding. Like stones being crushed underwater. Another was higher, almost a whine. It cut through the deeper sound in short bursts. A third voice rumbled between them. Patient. Low. Waiting.
Kael stopped at the mouth of an alley. He pressed himself against the cold stone. Lira did the same beside him. They peered out.
Another courtyard. Smaller than the one with the Ashwings. Three shapes moved in the grey light.
Hollow Hounds. Or something close enough. Their bodies were low and heavy. Their hides looked like cracked stone instead of fur. One had its head down, tearing at something with a wet ripping sound. A corpse. Smaller than the leviathan. It might have been a person once. Kael could not tell anymore. He was not sure he wanted to know.
The second Hound paced the far edge. Its massive head swung from side to side. Like it was looking for something it had lost.
The third was still. Facing the alley. Watching.
Kael did not breathe. Lira did not breathe. Her finger was still hooked around his. The only warm thing in the whole world.
The third Hound tilted its head. Its eyes were small and dark. Set deep in folds of stone-like skin. It could not see them. Kael was almost sure. The shadows were too deep. They were too still. He had spent his whole life learning how to be invisible. But it could sense something. A wrongness. A disturbance in the air where two living things were trying very hard not to exist.
Seconds stretched. The Hound's head swung toward the others. It let out a low sound. Not a growl. A question.
The second Hound stopped pacing. It lifted its head, scenting the air. The first kept eating. Kael could hear the wet sounds. He wanted to look away. He could not.
Then the third Hound turned. It lumbered toward the corpse and shouldered the others aside.
Kael exhaled. A long breath he had been holding forever. Lira's finger tightened around his. Then let go.
"They did not see us," she whispered.
"No. But they felt something."
"Will they come looking."
"I do not know. Maybe they are too busy."
They watched the Hounds feed. The creatures tore at the corpse. They growled when one got too close to another's piece. It was almost peaceful, in a terrible way. The kind of peace when the strong have eaten and the weak are already dead. Kael had seen that peace before. In the orphanage. When the older children divided the extra portions and the younger ones sat in the corners pretending not to be hungry.
Then the second Hound stopped eating.
Its head came up. Ears flat against its skull. A low whine escaped its throat. Thin. Afraid. The other two froze.
Kael heard it then. A new sound. Not a growl. Not wings. A deep, rhythmic thudding. Coming from somewhere beyond the courtyard. Like footsteps. Very large footsteps. The kind you felt in your bones before your ears caught up.
The Hounds scattered.
One moment they were feeding. The next they were gone. Melted into the shadows of the alleys. Like they had never been there. The corpse lay abandoned. Half-eaten. Steaming in the grey light.
Lira's voice was barely a breath. "What made them run."
Kael did not answer. He was watching the far side of the courtyard. His heart beat so hard he could feel it in his throat.
A shape emerged from the dark.
It was vast. Taller than the buildings on either side. Half stone and half shadow. Fused together wrong. Kael's eyes ached if he looked too long. No face. Just a suggestion of features. Like something carved and worn smooth by centuries.
Silent Tyrant. But not the ancient one from before. This one was smaller. Younger. Still colossal. Still big enough to crush them without noticing. Kael did not know if that made it better or worse.
It stopped in the center of the courtyard. Its head turned slowly toward the abandoned corpse. Then it turned toward the alley. Toward them.
Kael's heart stopped. He willed it quiet. Willed his blood to slow. Willed himself to become nothing. The same nothing he had been every day of his life. Unseen. Unchosen. Invisible.
'Not him. Not Tomas. Not yet.'
The cold thread flickered inside him. Weak. Barely there. But there. The feeling of becoming less. Blurring at the edges. Being the boy no one ever chose. The boy no one ever saw.
The Tyrant's head tilted. Listening. For heartbeats. For breath. For the tiny vibrations of something alive.
Seconds passed. Kael's lungs burned. Lira's hand found his and gripped so hard it hurt. He was grateful for the pain. It meant he was still here. Still alive. Still something.
The Tyrant took a step toward the alley.
Then it stopped. Its head tilted the other way. Confused. The prey had been there. Now there was nothing. Just empty alley. Just shadows. Just stone.
It stood there for a long moment. Then it turned away. It lumbered toward the corpse and bent down and began to feed. The sound was wet. Final.
Kael pulled Lira back into the alley. They moved step by step. Quiet. Putting distance between themselves and the feeding giant. The thudding of its jaws faded behind them.
The cold thread sputtered and died. Kael felt hollowed out. Scraped clean. Like something had reached inside and scooped out whatever kept him standing.
When they were far enough away, Lira leaned against a wall. She slid down until she was sitting on the cold stone. Her face was pale. Her hands were shaking. She pressed them flat against her thighs. It did not help.
"That was a Tyrant," she said. Her voice was raw.
"Smaller than the other one."
"Still big enough to eat us."
"Yes."
She looked up at him. Her eyes were wet. She was not crying. "You did something. I felt it. You went dim. Like you were half somewhere else."
"I do not know how I did it."
"But it worked. It was going to find us. And then it did not. Because of you."
Kael slid down the wall and sat beside her. His legs would not hold him anymore. "It almost did not work. I could feel it slipping."
"But it worked. This time."
They sat in silence. The bell was still tolling somewhere far away. It seemed fainter now. Or maybe he was just too tired to hear it.
Lira's hand found his. Her fingers were cold. She held on. "We cannot keep doing this. Wandering from one monster to the next. Waiting for you to almost die saving us. We need to find convergence. We need a direction."
Kael looked down the dark street. The city was still waiting. The doors. The bell. And somewhere deeper, the gold light. The pillar. The voice that called his name.
"I do not know where we are going," he said. "I do not know if there is a way out. I do not know if convergence is real or just another story."
Lira was quiet. Then she said, "My brother used to ask me where we were going. When things got bad. I would say I did not know. And he would say, as long as we are going together, that is enough." Her voice cracked. "He was five years old. He believed that."
Kael looked at her. Pale. Tired. Streaked with old blood. The only person who had ever chosen him.
"Then we go together," he said. "Forward. Until we find something. Or something finds us."
She nodded. "Together."
They sat for another moment. Then she pushed herself up. She offered him her hand. He took it. She pulled him to his feet.
They started walking again. The street ahead was dark and narrow. The city was still waiting.
And somewhere ahead, the growls had stopped. New sounds replaced them. Smaller. Faster. Skittering. Like breaking glass.
'Something else is coming.'