Rust and Water: Part Three - Steel Catacomb

“I think it’s supposed to be a dragon.” “And I say it’s a woman.” “I just don’t see it!” Herro protested, turning his helmeted head this way and that as he peered down at the partially submerged metal sculpture. The remaining patches of paint suggested that it once might have been red, or maybe it had been silver and the red was just large patches of rust.. Ghosty rocked back and forth. “It is. I’m sure of it.” “Why are we even discussing this?” “You said you needed a distraction!” “Discussing weird ancient art was not what I had in mind!” Ghost and EXO stared at each other. Herro had tucked himself into the empty window frame of one of the buildings that seemed more or less stable. If he kept telling himself that he might just start believe it, he thought as he pulled his cloak closer. The setting sun cast long shadows across the masses of twisted metal below him, painting everything it touched gold, while casting all else into deepest shadow. Herro didn’t trust even his mechanically superior vision to pick out a safe path through. He knew Ghosty would do his best to revive him, to put him back on safer ground, but he didn’t want to tempt death, not in this catacomb of rusted steel and oily water. There was something about this dead city, almost a hunger, the twisted metal girders elongated fingers stretching up to drag everything they touched down into their watery home… “Help me, Ghosty. I’m waxing poetical!” “I could tell you a riddle?” “I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation!” “Do you really think you should be shouting right now?” His ghost asked, tilting inquisitively. Herro’s mouth shut with a snap. He looked away. Just because they hadn’t seen another living thing besides plants didn’t mean there was nothing there. Herro stared down at the water a good twenty feet below his perch. “Hey, Ghosty?” “Yes, Guardian?” “How big can fish get, do you think?” “Pretty big, why?” The sunlit water rippled, illuminating a long, at least seven feet, sleek shadow moving sinuously just below the surface of the water. Hero gulped, unable to tear his eyes from the half hidden form as it slid away from the patch of light and glided into the shadows between the crumbling buildings. “No reason.” He managed, his voice perhaps pitched just a tad higher than usual. “Whatever.” Ghost gave his equivalent of a shrug. “Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ll move out at sunrise.” “Hey,” Herro protested. “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide when we go? I [i]am[/i] the Guardian, after all.” “Fine,” Ghosty huffed. “Then what do you want to do?” “Get some sleep and head out in the morning.” If Ghosty had teeth Herro could be sure that he would be gritting them. “Excellent idea, Guardian.” --- The Hunter raced through the darkness, her soft boots unerringly finding long memorized pathways. The other had not been careful. He had not been quiet. His movements had been noted, and he moved ever closer to places that should not be discovered. Places that should not be disturbed. A knife appeared in her hand as she ran across a tilted girder suspended a hundred feet over the waiting water below. It shifted slightly and she moved with it, not pausing to watch as it twisted, finally giving up its precarious balance and tumbling into the waiting blackness. By the time it hit the water she was far enough away to not even hear the splash. Other things were waiting, and she needed to be in place to intercept them. Shock blades would flash. Void light would eat away at the darkness. The Hunter bared her teeth in what could almost have been called a smile had anyone been able to see it. It would be a good fight. --- Part 4: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226622970/0/0 Table of Contents: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226526566/0/0