Seren’s first hint that something’s wrong is the Asian old lady’s horrified expression. The paths show no danger but she still decides to look into it. Using her supreme talents as a newly minted private investigator slash supernatural consultant of the illustrious Seekers Consulting (Limited), she promptly finds the cause of the disturbance. Basically she just followed the old woman’s gaze

It is 11 AM on Middletown road. The air is crisp and cold, the pale light shines on the grey tiles under her feet, the brown bricks of the buildings around her and the light and signs of local businesses. This is not the high rises and elegant establishments of Manhattan. This is Pelham bay in the Bronx and the businesses are small restaurants, Delis and nail salons, and they never have more than a few stories. This is a normal place, where normal people live and work, and this makes the giant rat on the roof of that black Prius that much more out of place.

It is white, kind of fluffly for a rodent and about the size of a small cat. It stares at Seren with beady pink eyes and clutches an envelope in its paws. The envelope is standard size, beige and closed with a red wax seal.

With creeping dread, Seren realizes that there is only one “person” around who would use express rat instead of instant messages as a means of communication. That also means that she has to take the message.

Step by step, she gets closer to the rat. It just keeps staring her down which is slightly embarrassing. With a disgusting grunt the Chinese woman just leaves in a rush so at least there will be no witness.

Seren extends a hand and the rat carefully deposits the envelope in her grasp. It’s actually clean, and its fur is kind of lush so all things considered it’s not that disgusting. Just slightly creepy, really.

The rat bows and leaves in a side alley.

A black woman passing by throws her hand in outrage and mumbles something about white people. If only that had happened in Manhattan, then nobody would have reacted.

Seren carefully breaks the seal open and takes out a handwritten letter. The paper was taken from a Petco stationary, the text is written by hands in red crayon and there is a ketchup stain on the top left corner. Yep that’s Piper alright, no doubt about it.

“DeaR NiteS, We az found yur Quarel, pliz come wid ol Haste!

YurS

Quin Paiper.”

Seren briefly considers setting this standing insult to the English language on fire but decides against it. The way her life has been going recently it might set her apartment ablaze by resonance or some such bullshit so fuck it, let Nathan enjoy the literary horror as well. She pulls out her James Bond cell.

“Knight Turner?

Yeah?

We are cordially invited to see her majesty. The summons came via messenger rodent by the way.

Did she say when?”

Seren takes her stuffiest voice.

“Posthaste my lad.”

That gives both of them a chuckle.

“I’ll be right down.”

“It looks like we won’t have to go to Central Park after all.” Nathan says while they follow the white rat down a dirty alley. They turn left and instead of the expected dead end they reach some sort of inner courtyard.

Seren is pretty sure that there should not be any courtyard here, and the sound of the city is strangely subdued, however she can sort of see in the future and followed a giant rodent down an alley while carrying a box of twinkies so she won’t judge.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The courtyard’s walls are made out of the ubiquitous red brick, it stands empty but for rows upon rows of rats, the throne, the queen and two men.

“Be welcome knights!”

Seren barely pays attention while Piper and Nathan exchange platitudes and overly dramatic exclamations. They look like they are having fun. Seren is studying the two other humans.

Modern society has a safety net and for a variety of reasons there are those who fall through the cracks. They have become outlaws in the truest sense of the term, as in they are no longer protected by it. The two men have the gaunt features and attentive eyes of those who sleep with one eye opened and never truly trust anyone. Even now, their posture radiate defiance and conflict, ready to fight and bite as easily as to cut and run. The man on the right is a very tall African-American man. He is painfully thin and Seren is pretty sure is not eighteen yet. The real problem is the other one. He is in his early thirties, with black hairs held back in a bun and a short beard, like some sort of opera villain. His posture says ex military and his hand is resting not far from the handle of a handgun held on his side by a makeshift shoulder holster. They are both covered in layer of grayish clothes that should make them look like hobos but instead give the feeling of desiccated court apparel. They are almost stylish, with carefully placed buckles and sharp angles. Completely silent, they stare at Nathan and her in turn.

She decides to let Nathan take the lead. She has been doing a lot of this lately, letting Nathan take the lead. It is not exactly uncomfortable. He does not give order, he does not pry, he does not try to cheer her up with forceful humor. He is giving her space and time and this is what she needs now. She is included and her boundaries are respected. It is a good start to rebuilding a future.

The soldier on the left is sneering at her while the one on the right is looking warily at Nathan. Seren has never faced anyone with a gun come to think of it. She wonders how she would fare.

Her paths contract and redeploy like a stretching cat. This part of her likes to be used, it enjoys the challenge.

Most of the options are the black of death but it does not matter, it never has. What does, is that there are a few white ones and that her body can follow, and this time she knows she can.

The ex grunt’s eye widen, then he nods at her and his hand lowers slowly.

He must have felt something.

They are rat knights, or human knights of the rat queen or whatever, it’s possible they have a deeply ingrained survival instinct. She just had to bare her teeth for them to reconsider threatening her. It’s the first time that she realizes that outside she is a college drop out with a bogus job, but here in this world of sword and monster, she might just be someone.

Now that the tension is lower, Seren starts day dreaming again. Let Nathan play his game and weave his web of allies, her time is better spent practicing. Now that she knows that the paths are part of her, there is no reason not to do a little bit of exploring.

Seren tugs on a branch to see where it gets her.

The car turns right on a decrepit road. Brownstone buildings lie abandoned and the smell of the sea reaches them even in this coldest of weathers.

“ This is a reckon mission, nothing more.” Barrett’s voice states calmly.

“But what if we can save someone!” By contrast, Jerry is full of passion.

“We can’t save anybody if we’re dead.”

Seren intervenes. “We all know what they do to their prisoners. Don’t worry Jerry, if we can rescue someone that will be our top priority.”

“Right.”

Barrett checks the GPS

“Here is close enough.” They park next to a cop car.

“From now on it’s on foot. We get close enough to check for Varog essence, if we find it we map the place from afar and check for numbers. As much as possible we do not engage. Are we all in agreement?”

A chorus of voice answers Nathan and they start forward. Seren and himself lead the way, their abilities better suited for scouting and early warning while Jerry and Barrett close the march. Their weapon stay sheathed and yet there is no mistaking their focus.

They stick out like a sore thumb.

Barrett breaks the silence.

“Can you tell if we’re being observed?”

“Huh no I can only detect monsters nearby.”

“If they don’t plan on fighting us I won’t be able to pick them, yet.”

“Then I suggest we head back. Take a turn left here.”

Before they can reach the angle, and use it to loop back to the car, they stop. Nathan is the first to see it. Further down the way, blue and red lights flash on the wall and the sounds of shuffling feet and voices reach them. It looks like someone found the hideout first.

“Alright let’s leg it.”

“Should we return to the car?”

Eventually they manage to slip back out before the area is cordoned. As they drive away, Jerry stops them to show a newsflash. They gather around the tiny screen, huddling in the cold. They see the anchorwoman, they learn the name of their target: Anton Kohr, suspected of murder and kidnapping. The man is old, with a slightly weasily face but otherwise... So ordinary.

They see Chauham making an announcement. They learn the man escaped.

There was one survivor among the hostages this time, and only one suspect dead.

Seren is the first to wake up from the stupor.

“Only one Varog, did he run out?”

Barrett interjects:

“No matter what he will run to ground now, unless he is really desperate.”

“Yeah…”

Outside, the blanket of clouds opens and snow starts falling in thick clusters. Winter is here, and with it, a forceful truce.

They will use this time to prepare.

And next time, they will be the ones to hunt, and they will get some answers.