Free Alchemystic by Anton Strout

“One of two left in the New York area, actually. Only the tenants living on the park itself get keys. They charge an arm and two legs if you lose them, but my family’s been here forever, so…”
    Rory was waiting for us at the southern gate, which wasunoccupied, straining in the darkness to see into the park. “I can’t see anything,” she said. Her arm flashed out toward me, fingers wiggling. “The key. Give it.”
    “We’re not going in there, are we?” Marshall asked.
    “Well, I don’t know about
you
, Marsh,” she said, turning to the two of us, “but I am.”
    I hesitated, and Rory rolled her eyes at me.
    “I want to see what’s going on,” she said, lifting the chain from around my neck where I wore the key. I didn’t resist. “Besides, you
are
a key-carrying member of the privileged. That means you have every right to be in there if you want to.”
    “What if my psycho’s in there?” I asked as she slid the key into the modern lock of the ancient-looking gate. “I think I’ve had about all the crazy I can take tonight.”
    Rory flipped her blue hair back out of her eyes and gave a toothy grin, adjusting her glasses. “There’s a good chance someone called the cops about whatever made that sound, so I’d say we’re pretty safe.”
    The sigh Marshall let out indicated his flustered displeasure with her choice, but before he could actually form words, Rory cracked the gate open ever so slightly and slid her skinny body into the opening, entering the park.
    I shook my head, gave him a smile, and slid in following Rory. I heard the sounds of Marshall finally coming after us seconds later, but I had already moved on to searching through the shadows for my best friend. The ample lights outside the park barely penetrated through the trees within it, the swaying shadows in the light fall breeze making it hard to pick out Rory’s figure anywhere. The cobblestones beneath my feet were uneven and had me moving slowly or risk twisting an ankle on the ancient surface that covered most of the paths through the park.
    “Where’s Rory?” Marshall whispered as he caught up to me, grabbing onto my arm.
    “Not sure,” I said. “And let go of my arm. This isn’t a date.”
    “Sorry,” he said, pulling away. “Just nerves. I’m sure the place is lovely in the daylight, but right now it’s super creepy. Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
    I gave a small laugh. “That’s comforting.”
    He laughed, too. “Fine. You protect me, then.”
    “Chivalry is dead,” I said with a shake of my head. “Come on.”
    I moved with caution toward the far side of the park, continuing my snail’s pace. After a few moments, Marshall grabbed my arm again.
    “Is that the sound of a river?” he asked.
    “Yep,” I said, not stopping. “And I don’t want to fall in it. That’s why we’re going slow.”
    He cocked his head. “I can hear it, but I have no idea where it
is
.”
    I grabbed Marshall’s hand. It was clammier than I had imagined they’d be. “Stay close,” I said, moving to the left of the path, closer to the tree line there. The sounds of the small river increased with each step we took, so much so that I didn’t even hear the lone shadowy figure as it crashed out of the trees directly in front of me. I went to scream, but a hand clamped down over my mouth. The metallic taste of several rings filled it instantly.
    Rory.
    One of her hands was over my face and the other was raised up to cover Marshall’s mouth. Even with Rory’s speed at silencing us, a muffled cry came from him behind her fingers.
    “Shh!” Rory hissed, then whispered, “There’s someone else in the park.”
    I pulled her hand away from my face, then spat to get the taste of metal off my tongue. “Who is it? One of my neighbors?”
    Rory shook her head, looking off toward the center of the park. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I mean, I’m not sure, but he or she is hiding by the statue at the center. That