Prologue

“Keep up, keep up, keep up,” Raphael panted, trailing his hand against the rough brick of the alley. His other hand gripped the younger boy’s as he tugged him along.

“Raph, please,” Griffon staggered behind him, clutching the bundle to his chest. “We need to stop and get our bearings.” Coming to the end of the alleyway, Raphael jerked Griffon against the wall as he peeked around the corner. Griffon sunk down to the filthy dirt, tilting his head back to catch the rain pouring down. Tucking stingy strands of drenched hair behind his ear, Raphael glanced down at Griffon. The boy’s chest heaved from running so hard for so long and Raphael worried about their precious cargo. He squinted into the darkness, praying that nothing lurked there. The torrential rain made visibility almost null, even for him, as he was unable to differentiate the shadows dancing in the weak lamplight as rubbage or more. Sweeping a hand across his eyes in a futile attempt to clear his face, Raphael didn’t see any more movement, one, two, three, still nothing.

“We can stop for a bit, Griff.” His only reply was the slightest nod. Sliding down beside Griffon, Raphael tugged his hair out of its ponytail, threading his fingers through the ratty knots. “You doing okay?”

“What do you think, Raph?” Leather strap between his teeth, Raphael glanced at Griffon, whose head was still titled skywards, his eyes closed. He still had a death grip on the bundle strapped to his heaving chest. Without opening his eyes, Griffon continued, “Do you even know where we are going?”

Spitting out the cord, Raphael gathered his hair to the nape of his neck. “No,” he admitted, “well, I have an inkling.”

Griffon’s eye cracked open and Raphael almost laughed from the vast amount of incredulous emotion evoked in such a simple gesture. “Oh an inkling, those are always so helpful.”

“C’mon, Griffon,” Raphael tied off his hair with a tight knot. “You know I will keep you and Marlee safe.” He scooted closer, gently tugging at the strap of the sling. “How is she doing?”

“Well, I can’t imagine that she is still asleep, but she is quiet at least.” Eyes wide open, Griffon threw a panicked looked at Raphael. “Should she be crying? Do you think she is okay? By the Ones, what are we going to do-“

“Shhh, Griff, she is fine. Look, she is awake.” Raphael had unfastened the strap, revealing a shock of bright red hair. Pale blue eyes blinked owlishly up at the two boys and a little pink mouth yawned and let out a little squeak. Griffon craned his neck down to try and look at the infant, only a few days old. Supporting the sling with one arm, he brushed a finger across his little sister’s cheek, lost in wonder at what had dropped them into this situation. Raphael tussled the baby’s hair, ever so gently, before going to tie the bundle against Griffon once more.

“We are going to have to stop for good soon, Raph,” Griffon didn’t lift his gaze from Marlee, even as Raphael tucked the sturdy fabric in such a way that she was protected by most of the elements. “She is doing okay now, but she will have to eat pretty soon.”

Raphael tugged the strap, checking that it was secure. “I know, Griff. Like I said, I have an inkling on where we are supposed to go.” He tried again in vain to wipe the water from his eyes, the murky liquid refusing to let up. Looking down the alley, he rose, reaching down to help Griffon up. “There is an inn that I’ve heard that takes in people like us.” Griffon sighed, kissing where he thought Marlee’s head would be in the bundle, before reaching up to take Raphael’s hand.

“Well, hello there, you pretty little things,” a voice lilted from the darkness. Raphael jerked Griffon up, before twisting the smaller boy behind him. He backed up slightly, pressing Griffon against the grimy wall as a shape formed in the murky haze, coming closer with each lurching step. The man limped towards them, completely decked out in what Raphael recognized as once the highest fashion from two years ago, but now in filthy shambles. He tipped a limp hat to the halfling. “Tis a bit late, isn’t it?” the man smiled, close enough that Raphael could smell the rotting sickness of his breath. Giggling at his own words, the man stumbled to the side, barely catching himself against the alley with a dull thud. Raphael could feel Griffon stiffen at the sound, unable to see past Raphael’s shoulder.

“I just happen to be on my way home now, good sir,” Raphael cheerily replied, reaching back slowly to grope for Griffon’s hand. He felt a tight squeeze and began inching himself towards the alleyway, making sure to turn his body towards the man.

“What about your little friend there, hmm?” Raphael cursed under his breathe as the man straightened up, propping a shoulder against the wall. Griffon huddled close, pressing up against Raphael’s back.

Raphael plastered a pleasant smile across his face, cheerily replying, “Oh him? Just my little brother, sir, poor thing needs to get home to his ma.” Sharp fingernails dug into his palm, letting him know that Griffon was not thrilled with that explanation, but Raphael continued, tutting, “This one is a little sick, sir, not all is right up here.” He lightly rapped his knuckles against his forehead.

“That’s okay, love, neither am I.” The man’s smile widened, cracking his face in two. Raphael’s heart beat faster as he tried to move farther away from the man, but the man was steadily closing the distance between them. His fingers itched for a weapon, but in their haste, he hadn’t been able to grab anything. Griffon certainly didn’t have anything on him either, his focus had been completely on making sure that Marlee was taken care of as the estate was crumbling down around them. “Why don’t you let me take a look at you, my lovelies?” the man hiccupped.

“That’s quite alright, sir, we had best be on our way.”

The man’s horrifying grin transformed into a leer. “I said I wanted a good look at you.”

“I’m positive that is not what you said,” Raphael started, but the man moved with a surprising speed stand shakily before the boys, trapping them against the wall. “I advise you move away, sir,” Raphael hoped his voice did not shake as much as his hand behind his back was.

“I don’t think so, halfling,” the man spat. Blobs of spittle flew to Raphael’s cheek, mixing with the rain, but he dared not reach up to wipe it away. The pupil of the drunken man were pinpricks in the darkness, his eyes as wide as his smile, his breath in excited puffs. “I thought something was off about you,” he sneered. “Running around, doing who knows what.”

He reached out to touch Raphael’s pointed ears, but was stopped when Raphael grabbed his wrist. “Careful, sir, I’ve been known to bite,” Raphael attempted a smirk, but the man was too close for comfort. He and Griffon could not deal with this, not now.

The man jerked his hand away, staring at Raphael with disgust and another emotion that the halfling could not place. “How dare you touch me?” the man seethed, shaking his arm as if to rid himself from a disease.

“Let’s go, Raph,” Raphael could hear Griffon murmur into his back. “This is going to get ugly.” Raphael squeezed his hand in return before addressing the disheveled man.

“We must be on our way, sir, please excus—” Raphael was silenced by a slap in the face, the sound resounding through the alley. Not expecting the blow, the force ripped him away from Griffon, throwing him a few paces onto the ground. He thought he heard Griffon shout his name, but all he could hear was ringing, the noise echoing off the sides of his skull. Dizzily, he reached up to touch the wetness dripping down his cheek, the blood being the only hot thing in this alley. Through blurred vision, he could just make out the jagged dagger the man held. He must have hit Raphael with the hilt. It did not matter because the man had Griffon by the wrists, holding his arms above his head, effectively pinning the boy against the wall.

Raphael started to prop himself up when he heard, “Don’t even think about moving, halfling.” The man’s eyes did not leave Griffon’s face, but he pointed the knife towards Raphael, gesturing with it between the two boys. “Lucky for me, you two were here.” He leered down at Griffon, who met his eyes with a fierce glare. Raphael didn’t know why he wasn’t struggling, Griffon could break free at any time—oh. Raphael glanced at the sling. That’s why.

The man continued, using the blade of the dagger to brush way the red hair that had fallen in Griffon’s eyes, contemplating, “You really are a lovely one, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, but a fact. He let the hair fall again over Griffon’s bright blue eyes. “You and your pet both, even it is beautiful. Like I said, I’m quite a lucky man.” Griffon set his mouth in a firm line, refusing to speak. Raphael tried again to rise from his prone position, but the man made a tsking sound, nodding to Griffon, “Call off your dog, sweetheart. We are having a conversation, man to man.” Griffon refused to remove his gaze from the man. Raphael cursed silently, why did Griffon have to be so stubborn? And cursing himself, why didn’t he stop this? The man was obvious faking his intoxication before, stupid, stupid, why couldn’t have he have stopped this? He prayed that Marlee kept quiet.

“Quiet one, aren’t you? I wonder what would make you scream, hmm?” The dagger danced in the man’s hands, just inches from Griffon’s face. It was horrifying to watch, but Raphael couldn’t take his eyes off the pair, even for a second. “You see, love, I’m in a bit of a bind, and you can help me. Someone needs a few pretty lads like yourselves, for work and other things.” The man chuckled darkly. “Maybe if you behave, I’ll even come pay you a visit myself.” Raphael’s blood ran cold, reaching out for something, anything. Fumbling around, his hand closed around a large piece of alley rubble, as it was at this moment that Griffon pursed his lips. “Ah, a comment at last.” The man leaned forward, in beautiful synchrony as Griffon spat into his face. Raphael quickly tucked the brick under his chest as the man blinked, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He gazed down at Griffon, who had gone silent once more.

“That wasn’t very nice, my lovely.” With his weapon in hand, the man slammed Griffon’s head against the wall. Raphael held his breath as chunks of auburn hair floated to the ground, silently fuming, quivering with rage as Griffon’s eyes rolled back into his head. He inched forward, the rubble scraping and tearing into his shirt. The man waited for Griffon’s eyes to focus once more before continuing. “Did you know that scarring adds visual interest?” He nodded, playing along to his own question. “Yes, many patrons feel sympathetic to a poor soul who has been marred just a little. Makes them pay a bit more. Nothing too bad, oh no, I wouldn’t want to make you ugly or handicap you in any way.” He met Griffon’s bright gaze, smiling as he tapped Griffon’s left eyebrow with the tip of the blade. For the first time, Griffon let his fear be clear across his face, but he still remained frozen, the only movement being his throat as he swallowed heavily.

“Visual interest, yes. That has a nice ring to it.” The man licked his lips, bearing down on the dagger to pierce Griffon’s skin. The boy gritted his teeth, but still refused to speak. “C’mon, my little songbird,” the man began tracing a line down Griffon’s face, “sing for me.” Blood began welling up and pouring down Griffon’s face, but he dared not move, it would only make the wound deeper. Eyes screwed tightly, he began making unconscious whimpering noises, breathe hissing out between his clenched teeth. “Now, now, my lovely, I’m not ruining you. See, I’m going to save your eye,” the man tutted as he skipped straight over the tear-filled orb to continue down Griffon’s cheek.

It was then that Marlee decided to wail. The man paused in his work, looking bewildered at the shrill squalling. He looked down at the bundle beneath him on the boy. And it was then that Raphael brought the large rock down on the man’s head with a harsh crack. The dagger jerked down Griffon’s face, causing a jagged end to the carving and he screamed for the first time as the man collapsed into the alley. Raphael dropped to his knees, the blood coating the stone already washing away beside him. He looked at the man and immediately vomited, dry-heaving an empty stomach. Not much could be seen from where he knelt, but there were distinct pieces of bone in the man’s hair, mixed in with fleshy pink matter. His hat lay crumpled beside him. Griffon just clutched Marlee to his chest and watched Raphael, the blood obscuring the left side of his face.

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Raphael stated in disbelief, staring at the motionless body. He tore his gaze away to blink, dumbfounded, at Griffon. “I just wanted him to stop, Griff, I wanted him to stop hurting you.” He reached towards the younger boy, but all he could see was it covered with blood. He retracted it to his chest, rocking on his knees. “I didn’t mean to kill him, the Ones, I didn’t mean to do it.” Raphael was vaguely aware of Griffon shuffling forward meet him in the center of the alley. He could barely feel the arms that wrapped around him, as Griffon guided his head to his shoulder, cradling him.

“He deserved to die.”

Those words, they were said so softly but with such sincerity that Raphael just stiffened as he heard them. There was no room for questions or argument in Griffon’s statement, it was simply true. Raphael tried it out himself, repeating brokenly, “He deserved to die.” He began again, the rocking intensifying as Griffon held him in a firm hug. “He deserved to die, he deserved to die, he deserved to die,” Raphael sobbed, getting louder and louder as the mantra continued, until he was screaming into the downpour. The words lost all meaning as Griffon just held him, as Raphael and Marlee cried into the darkness.