Star Harbor Nights

Perfect had been running across a rooftop, moments away from making her first flying leap across the gap between buildings... the maneuver that would officially kick her crimefighting career up from "strictly street level"... when nearly three hundred pounds of muscle wrapped in inky blackness suddenly stepped between her and the ledge.

She hit him head first and went bouncing backwards, landing on her butt with an undignified grunt. The stuffed rabbit that had been riding in the quiver on her shoulder spilled onto the gravel-strewn roof.

"The Dock Shadow," she said, trying her best not to look or sound surprised, in spite of her circumstances.

"Perfect Jones," he said.

"Why don't you watch where you're going?"

"My apologies," the dark figure said. "At the moment, I was more concerned with where you were going."

"I think I'm old enough to cross the street without somebody holding my hand, thank you," Perfect said.

The masked vigilante shifted his gaze to the stuffed rabbit, lying on the rooftop behind her.

"Oh, that's just Mr. Buttons," Perfect said, turning and scrambling to pick him up. "Kind of a... good luck charm. You know, like lucky rabbits' feet?" She chuckled nervously, holding the bunny in front of her like a talisman.

"Right," the Dock Shadow said slowly.

"Anyway, what do you mean by popping out of nowhere like that?" Perfect said, getting to her feet. "You're lucky I didn't knock you right over the edge."

"Yeah, the laws of physics are a real stroke of luck," he replied sardonically. "You're off your stride, physically and mentally. If ever there was a night for you to try jumping around on rooftops, it's not this one."

"How would you know anything about 'my stride?'"

"I watched the beginning of your fight with Bloodhound's crew," the Dock Shadow said. "Enough to know how you move, enough to know that you're dealing with a little soreness now... but also enough to know the Bone Lords couldn't be responsible for that. I think I can guess what happened next."

"You really probably can't," Perfect said, shuddering with the memory of Bloodhound's quick recovery and subsequent transformation into a skeletal monstrosity.

"So you didn't go home with the Fire-Eater?"

"That is none of your business."

"Anything that sends people jumping off roofs in my city is my business."

"I wasn't going to jump off anything!" Perfect shouted. "Well, I was, but only to land on something else. Other than the ground."

"Go home," Shadow said. "Your head's not in the right place for this."

"Great, you think I'm crazy, too," Perfect said. "Just like my family. Should I say 'Well, I'll show you!' just to complete the picture?"

"I think you're twisted up inside over a man who's not worth it, and until you get that figured out for yourself, you shouldn't be out here climbing buildings or fighting crime," he said. "So go home, or I'll leave you tied up outside your parents' house and you can figure out what to tell them."

"What, if I don't do what you say you'll tell my parents? That's the best you can come up with?"

He turned away from her abruptly, putting his hand up to the side of his cowl, where it covered his ear.

"Change of plans," he said. "I officially don't have time to deal with you. So, either go home, or try to keep up."

"Try... to..."

"If you're going to be out tonight, I want it to be where I can keep an eye on you," he said, heading across the rooftop. "My vehicle's nearby. We'll use the fire escape."

His vehicle was a non-descript late model black van with no windows further back than the front doors. He did nothing Perfect could see to unlock it. He didn't put a key in the ignition. He simply shifted it into drive, and off it went, silent as a shadow.

"Electric engine?" she asked.

He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"A receiver in the steering column responds to an RFID tag in my glove," he said. "It won't drive for anybody else."

"So what's the caper?" she asked him.

"The Bone Lord Army's growing street presence been stirring up trouble with the city's more traditional, profit-oriented criminals. Their aimless vandalism and occult posturing attracts attention..."

"It's actually a bit more than posturing," Perfect said.

"Well, regardless, it's not appreciated by those who prefer to keep a low profile. When a bunch of kooks take to the streets in face paint, drawing mystic circles everywhere, it brings more police and crimefighter attention."

"So the 'businessmen' are striking back?"

"Not directly. Organized crime in Star Harbor's gone as far underground as it can, without provoking a turf war with the Hong Kong triads."

"Thanks to you," Perfect said.

"Among others. But, they've hired an exterminator... the Huntsman," Shadow said. "One of my irregulars spotted him trailing a couple Bone Lords, probably so he can mop up a whole group. He's hired muscle, but dangerous hired muscle. He believes he can gain..."

"...the strength and abilities of his enemies by eating their hearts and livers," Perfect said. "Weapon of choice is a crossbow. Usually tries to pin or disable his opponents with it, so he can get in for an up-close kill at his leisure."

"Raymond was right about you."

"You know Ray?" Perfect asked, surprised.

"Since his carnival days."

"Oh," Perfect replied. A moment later, thinking of what she'd recently learned about Ray and his carnival days, she added, "Oh!"

"I take it that you've heard about Raymond's 'escape lessons' from Charade," Shadow said.

"Yeah, I... oh, were you the reason Charade's father wasn't available to teach him?" Perfect guessed.

"I had just begun my crusade, and realized I was never going to get very far as a simple back-alley brawler. So I learned other skills... deduction, forensic science, criminal psychology... and of course, escape artistry."

Perfect estimated backwards in her head.

"That must've been right around the time that Shade died," she said, referring to the Dock Shadow's one-time sidekick.

"We're not going to talk about that."

"Okay," Perfect said. "Um... when did Ray tell you about me?"

"The day after you met," he said. "We try to meet about once a week. I'm not a part of the 'community' that Broker's building, but I try to keep an eye on what they're doing."

"So, does he know who you really are?"

"He knows who I was. He knows how to get ahold of me. He doesn't know who I am," the Dock Shadow said. "Anyway, the Huntsman's preference to disable before killing is probably the only thing that's going to keep you alive if you get in his sights. I want you to stay back. Stop any Bone Lords who make a break for it, if you can, but do not engage the Huntsman."

"Your confidence in me is really reassuring," Perfect said.

"I'd say I'm being charitable, considering how fast I had you on your back on that rooftop."

"That's apparently not hard to do," Perfect muttered. "So, if the Huntsman was already following the Bone Lords back to their lair, or whatever, aren't we going to get there too late?"

"You're paying attention," he said. "We have the advantage of already knowing where they were headed. My scout had been watching those particular Bone Lords for over a week. They're part of a group that's been using a mostly empty warehouse as a ritual space. The real owners can't call the cops, due to the nature of the goods that are being stored there."

"There's got to be a better place for them to practice their rites than a mob-connected warehouse," Perfect said, shaking her head.

"The Bone Lords started off as a nuisance, but they've been growing increasingly arrogant," Shadow said. "You say there's something more to them than misguided roleplaying?"

"After we defeated Bloodhound's crew, he said that he'd 'perfected the Rites of Bone' and did a... spell, I guess you'd call it. It skeletonized his underlings, and transformed him. He sprouted these bony spikes, and his body twisted into something monstrous. Ray... used his fire breath on him, and it... consumed him completely."

"That must have been upsetting," Shadow said. "I can see why you might make a poor judgement call after..."

"We're not going to talk about that," Perfect said.

"Fair enough. We're here."

He slid the silent black van into an unlit alley.

"What's the plan?" Perfect asked as they disembarked. She noticed Dock Shadow was listening to his receiver again.

"They're almost here," he said. He pointed to a darkened warehouse across the street. "You sneak inside, take up position somewhere with a clear view of the exits... and a clear path to at least one."

"Don't you want to go in first?"

"The Huntsman and his quarries are almost here. I don't know if he's going to let them get inside, or take them out first."

"Which we couldn't allow," Perfect said. "Got it."

He reached into a pouch and pulled out a small clip-style earpiece.

"This is a short range transceiver patched into my private communications network," he said, handing it to her. "If for any reason the Huntsman makes it in ahead of me, press the button on the side twice. It'll send a silent tone. Don't say anything outloud... there's reports he's been displaying heightened senses."

"Yet your scout was able to follow him unnoticed?"

"She's good."

"Will she be joining us, then?"

"Only if she needs to. She doesn't always play well with others. Any other questions?"

Perfect shook her head. She made her way to the warehouse, staying out of the light. There were no obvious sentries outside, and the side door she picked was unlocked and unguarded. There was an alarm, but it had obviously been disabled through the crudest means available. Shadow had been right; the Bone Lords were growing arrogant.

There were a few large crates stacked here and there, mostly in the corners and near the walls, but the warehouse was far from filled to capacity. The grimy windows high up on the walls were dully visible as slightly lighter patches within the gloom. The only real light came from candles, which the warehouse's occupants had lit by the thousands and arranged in intricate networks of overlapping circles. With sawdust, scraps of wood, and papers all over the floor, the whole place looked like a fire trap to Perfect.

There were dozens of Bone Lords present, all standing within the circles. They chanted loudly in their strange forgotten language, utterly oblivious to her presence. One dark corner had a pyramid-like pile of crates that almost reached the ceiling. She picked that for her vantage spot, as it was high up and there were no windows in the corner to give her away.

She didn't have long to wait. She had just got into place when the Dock Shadow made his presence known, striding out of nowhere into the edge of the the feeble light cast by the candles. He stood there until the nearest cultists became aware of his presence, faltering in their chants. The confused hush quickly spread throughout the room.

"I suggest that everybody who doesn't want to die leaves," he declared in a loud, clear voice that Perfect heard echoed in her earpiece.

"That voice!" one of the Bone Lords cried. "It's the Dock Shadow!"

"Don't listen to his bullshit," another one said. "He doesn't kill."

"I don't," Shadow agreed. He pointed a black-gloved hand into the light, pointing at the other end of the warehouse. "But he does."

All eyes turned to see a new figure striding into the candlelight. He was dressed in leather and fur, with a dark green cloak. The hood sported a pair of antlers. In his right hand was a wicked-looking bow. In his left hand was a gleaming knife.

"The legendary Dock Shadow," the Huntsman declared. "So... you've fallen into my little trap!"

"Don't even pretend," the Dock Shadow growled.

"Fine, call it opportunism, but whatever," the mercenary replied. "Either way, I shall eat your heart tonight."

The assembled Bone Lords looked around at each other, unsure of what to make of the two interlopers.

"He's here to kill you," the Dock Shadow told them. "I'm here for him. Make up your mind whether you want to run or fight."

They glanced at each other, and then rushed at the vigilante en masse. Perfect swore she could hear him sigh, even with the distance between him.

"You are all very, very stupid," he said. He took a step sideways into the shadow cast by a tall shipping crate and effectively vanished.

"Peekaboo, I see you," the Huntsman mocked. He jumped up onto a stack of containers, a vertical distance of fifteen feet, and loosed a crossbow bolt into the darkness. It clanged off the wall.

"Seeing isn't everything," the Dock Shadow called. His voice echoed eerily. Perfect guessed he was shouting into the corrugated metal wall in order to keep his position from the Bone Lords. "You have to hit me."

"Bone Lords, there!" the Huntsman shouted, pointing a gloved finger... which had a sharply curving talon attached to it... in the direction of the darkness-cloaked vigilante. The two cultists who lead the charge into the blackness immediately went flying back, bowling over several of their comrades. A line of candles toppled over. Most of them mercifully went out. One caught on a pile of shipping labels and plastic wrappers, but before the fire could really take off a small cylindrical object flew out of the shadows and exploded with a deafening bang, extinguishing the budding flames.

The Huntsman launched another bolt in the direction that the concussive grenade had come from. This time, the result was a wooden thunk. Almost immediately, another three of the Bone Lord soldiers were flung out of the darkness... this time, landing with care in the middle of a candle circle. It frustrated Perfect that she, alone among the major players, couldn't see what was going on in the area beyond the dim candle light.

That thought gave her an idea. With the Huntsman's attention focused on the fight, she chanced using the communicator.

"Are you using low-light vision?" Perfect said, as quietly as she could.

A few moments later, the response came back, barely a whisper through the earpiece. "It has a safety cut-off." She didn't have to explain what she was thinking.

"Bet his doesn't," Perfect said. She started to slide down off her crate onto the next tier down.

"He hasn't seen you yet. If you move, you become a target."

"But..."

"It's a good idea," Shadow said. "But I'll need to make sure his eyes are on me before you go for it. If you can make him look up somehow right before you do it, it'll maximize the effect."

"I can do that," Perfect whispered.

Moments later, Shadow came barreling out into the open, clotheslining several of his attackers. The Bone Lords piled on around him, too thickly for the Huntsman to get a clean shot. This didn't stop him from trying, though... one of the combatants got a quivering quarrel in the back for his trouble. Perfect would have liked the luxury of sitting back and watch the Dock Shadow at work as he cleared a space around him with bone-crunching precision. The Huntsman literally leapt into the fray, jumping over the ring of Bone Lords with his knife swinging. Shadow rolled backwards, kicking upwards to catch the mercenary with both his booted feet and help him right on out of the fray. He completed the roll to get back on his feet, taking several of the Bone Lords down with a sweep kick.

All of that happened in the time it took Perfect to stealthily climb down the ziggurat. She slid along the wall, keeping an eye on the fight as she made her way back to the door. There had been a row of switches there. She was sure if she threw them all at once, it was sure to shed some light on the darkened arena... a painful occurence for someone with eyes adapted for exteme low light conditions. Sophisticated equipment like the Dock Shadow used could simply switch itself off, but if the Huntsman's senses were natural, or at least biological, they wouldn't be able to adapt to the change at the drop of a hat.

At least, that was her theory. The switches could go to something else, or the power could have been disconnected, or the Huntsman's senses might be protected in some way she hadn't figured on.

But the Dock Shadow had said it was a good idea.

As she approached the switches, her focus shifted from the fight to her immediate goal. She was almost there when a sudden triumphant cry from the Huntsman grabbed her attention. She turned to see him, crossbow raised at the Dock Shadow's back while a group of Bone Lords clung to his arms and legs. Though he struggled mightily, they held him more or less in place through sheer numbers.

Perfect shrieked. The Huntsman whirled around, his eyes immediately locking on her...