Chapter 4
FOUR
SLOAN
Sloan walked through the town’s wide dirt path. Shops and bars opened up on either side of the main road. Streets branching off in every direction led deeper into the small city of Term.
The building Sloan had her eyes on was a two-story wooden structure with two white pillars holding up the porch. The wood looked new, like it had been erected just for the occasion of Sloan’s arrival to Term.
A large sign on the front door hung from a pair of shiny, new nails. It read: Sheriff’s Office.
Sloan resisted the urge to head in through the front door. Kicking in doors and ordering actions in the name of the crown was a life lost to her now. Not only did these people have no love for the queen, but they also straight up despised her.
Sloan took a long breath as her senses worked on overdrive. The best way to tackle this scenario was to gather as much information as she could before making her move. She chose a storefront across the street from the sheriff's office.
Sloan removed her hood to avoid suspicion. She did her best to untangle the knotted mess of her hair, but what little she could do didn’t make her look any better.
Inside, her body tingled with new power and the promise of raw speed. Since her transformation into whatever she was now, Sloan had felt a burning power inside of her and she yearned to test its limits.
How fast was she, exactly? How strong? Her body had mended her wounds from the fight exiting New Hope, along with Aareth’s bite. Did that mean she was immortal?
So many more questions ran through her mind, including what she was going to do about Aareth, that Sloan had almost missed the pair of men walking down the street.
One was tall and thin with a clean-shaven face and a limp.
The other was a gargoyle, short and stocky, and covered with stone-like skin.
Sloan had to remind herself not to stare.
Her interaction with gargoyles was limited, at best. Her knowledge of them reminded her they could be turned to solid, unmoving statues in the rays of the sun.
This one moved in the shade the overhanging roofs brought.
Sloan turned her back on the two. She pretended to be looking into the nearest storefront that sold foodstuffs and home goods.
“Should be fun,” the tall man said to the gargoyle. “We’ll have a hearing for them, all official-like, then no matter the outcome, still hang them.”
“Just hang the two men, you mean,” the gargoyle corrected. “The boss likes the gnome, and the woman is easy on the eyes. I think she’ll keep her around a bit.”
“She’s a spitfire, though, that one. Did you see how many it took to get her and that sword of hers under control?” With a look of disgust, the thin man spat onto the dirt road. “We’re lucky none of her other companions could fight as well as her. We might not have been able to bring them in.”
The rest of their conversation was lost to Sloan. She watched their reflections walk into the building opposite hers, and disappear. It sounded like her friends were still alive, and that was enough to give her hope.
The sun was just beginning to sink over the building tops when Sloan realized patience wasn’t her strongest suit. She decided to take a closer look.
Thus far, the only people who had even looked her way twice were random citizens of Term more interested in her because she was a stranger, not because they expected anything malicious from her.
Sloan crossed the dirt road, her once-shiny black boots now covered with a thick layer of dirt that made them look brown. Her pants were much the same. The brown cloak she wore was the worst part of her new outfit. It smelled of one part someone else's sweat and another part vomit.
The mage sword was the only thing that remained exactly the same since her transformation and her flight from New Hope. It was tucked into her belt, the sheath lost somewhere during the events of the escape.
Sloan walked to the side of the building she had seen the man and gargoyle go. In the alley, there was a window she could just see into if she stood on her tiptoes.
“Listen, if you don’t want to hear reason, then at least entertain the idea you could be wrong.” Edison’s familiar voice rang out from inside the building. “The queen is planning to invade the Outland, and she’s coming sooner rather than later.”
Sloan craned her neck to gain a better look inside.
The first floor was actually one large room and three steel cages.
Sloan was looking through the window of the first cage.
Edison’s back was to her. Next to him was another cell with Doctor Livingston sprawled out on a dirty mattress.
The only other things in each of the cells besides the occupants was a worn mattress and a bucket to relieve themselves in. The third cell was empty.
The rest of the room was filled with a massive staircase leading up to the next floor, three desks with chairs, and a few gun safes and filing cabinets.
“We’re not your enemy.” Edison shook his head in frustration. “We should be preparing to repel an invading army of super soldiers, not fighting amongst each other. Come on, we can work something out. What are you boys into? Booze? Drugs? Money? We can make a deal.”
Sloan’s eyes now drifted to the three men Edison was speaking with.
Two were the men she had seen walking down the street, and the third was a bear of a man.
Wild, brown hair and a beard so thick that she couldn’t see his lips covered his face.
He wore a pair of dirty pants and suspenders, with no shirt.
“They’re not going to listen to you,” Oliver Livingston said from the mattress in the cell next to Edison’s. “They want to see us hang.”
“That’s right,” boomed the shirtless man. “You killed half our gang. Kimberly isn’t going to let that stand.”
“Well, I don’t want to argue with you here.” Edison opened his hands wide. “But technically, neither I nor my associate, Elwood, have killed anyone. It was all you-know-who’s friend?—”
Edison hid his face with one hand, and with his other he pointed to Oliver.
“Are you pointing at me again?” Oliver asked without bothering to look over at Edison.
“No, nope.” Edison lowered his hand. “Why would you say that?”
“Listen, you idiots.” The gargoyle stomped over to Edison’s cell. Its bald head and pointed ears barely reached Edison’s chest. “You’re both going to swing, no matter how much you beg and plead. Get used to the idea.”
“Come on, Rocko.” The thin man motioned to the gargoyle. “Let's go upstairs and see what the rest of the boys are up to. We’ll have our fun with these two tomorrow at the hearing and then at the hanging.”
“Well, that doesn’t seem fair.” Edison scratched at his head. “How do you know there’s going to be a hanging, if the hearing hasn’t even happened yet?”
Sloan had seen enough. She gave her toes a break and came down off their tips.
A kink was already forming in her neck. It was obvious to her that she could free the two prisoners; no matter how many men they had upstairs, Sloan was more than a match for them, between her mage sword and the new powers she possessed.
The only thing that worried her was being able to get to Ashley and Elwood in time. If word traveled back to wherever they were being held that Edison and Oliver had escaped, they could be killed on the spot.
Movement tore Sloan away from her thoughts. A shadow fell across the alley, blocking out the last dying rays of light.