Free Ink and Shadows by Rhys Ford Page A

length of metal against his rib cage. “Then I’ll hand it over.”
    “Deal,” the redcap grunted. “You’re not much of a Horseman, but you are good for your word.
    “Something came up behind me when I was scrounging down by the record store.” The redcap hugged his short, burly arms, wrists clasped about his elbows, drawn by the scent of the Horseman’s fluids. “The wraith’s big, bigger than a mastiff. I haven’t seen one like that in a long time, but that’s what it was. You don’t ever really forget what one that big looks like.”
    “How big of one?” Mal lowered his arm. He’d seen other specters pulled free from the Veil, sometimes taking the form of nightmares or animals, but a wraith was something entirely different, a bad omen from humanity’s past.
    A keening howl tore apart the air. Around them, humans continued to walk and chat, oblivious to the dangers lurking just beyond their eyesight. A thumping rattled the ground, nearly shaking Mal off his feet and sending the redcap tumbling onto his back. Mewling, the creature struggled to right himself, holding his soaking cap firm with one hand while trying to flip over. Another shuddering stomp rippled through the ground, crossing the Veil in a wave of motion.
    Nearby, a fire hydrant popped its cover, metal shards flying. Mal ducked, a bolt barely missing his head. He didn’t want to test out his immortality against a slab of steel in his temple. Gods knew how long it would take to heal from that.
    Seizing the opportunity, the redcap made a grab for the towel, hooking an end over his tusks before galloping a few feet away from Mal. Rocking on his knuckles, the redcap mumbled around the gag, pointing at the enormous doglike creature shouldering past the hydrant’s remains. The wraith was still nearly twenty feet away, but Mal choked on its foul breath, a sourly sweet curdled milk poured into a too ripe pineapple. Its shoulders rose nearly as high as Mal’s elbows, rocky precipices of bony plating with chunks of brown fur growing between the cracks.
    “Damn, that thing is big,” Mal whispered, watching as a woman darted around the waterspout pouring from a crack in the hydrant’s pipes.
    The wraith snapped at the human, its nearly doglike muzzle passing through the woman’s solid flesh. A rounded body, powerful under the scaly plating, was broad across the chest, narrowing down in the hips. It moved on all fours, prowling forward to sniff at the mortals running away from the torrent. The wraith twitched, as if to break into a run, but the scent of its prey didn’t draw it out. Instead it circled the area, looking for something it couldn’t find.
    “What the…?” Ari came running out from the side street, the Veil pulled tight around him.
    Invisible to anyone who might glance his way, he stopped short of the Mustang’s rear end, nearly hitting Mal. He had already drawn his long dagger, cocking it away from the other Horseman.
    “Shit! Where the fuck did that thing come from?” Ari matched the wraith’s growl with one of his own.
    Unseen by the humans avoiding the water pouring from the damaged fire hydrant, the Veiled creature snorted, frustrated at being unable to bite at anyone passing by.
    “What the damned hell is going on? And get down. If that thing sees you, it’ll come for you.”
    Mal ducked down behind the Volvo parked next to the Mustang, Ari crouching beside him. “The redcap said it was a wraith. Looks like a wraith. Sort of. If they were dinosaur-sized.”
    Another chunk of metal flew past and struck a truck camper, rocking the vehicle on its wheels. People screamed as the hydrant blew more water upward, their eyes fixed firm on the real world, not seeing the shadowy beast hunkered into a crouch. Pouncing at the fleeing humans, the wraith ghosted through a security guard trying to herd people out of the way.
    “Yeah, I know it’s a wraith. I’ve been doing this for a while, Cooties,” Ari snarled, noticing the trail