Renhaven
Renhaven was a very different city at night.
Baler Toman knew as much, and did his best never to leave the comfort of his home once the sun went down. A celebration for a friend, however, had him running late and leaving Pem’s – the local watering hole – he realized that daylight was fading.
Two choices presented themselves: stay the night in one of Pem’s lumpy, sour beds and stumble home in the morning, or risk the twenty blocks to his house. A few moments of tipsy consideration and he’d turned around and headed back inside to talk to the barkeep. Pem had owned the squat taproom since his father passed on, but wasn’t interested in making sure the standards his elder had set were kept. Dirty glasses and a cluttered floor were common, and most of those in Renhaven either avoided Pem’s and chose the higher-class Tully’s instead, or came only for the cheap drinks.
“What?” Pem said in a gravelly voice as Baler approached the bar.
“You got a bed?” There was no point in being polite to Pem – kind words would never come back from the beast.
“Yeah, I got a few. That all you wanted to know?” The barkeep grinned.
“No,” Baler said flatly. “I wanted to know if you’d rent me one for the night.”
“Sure.” Pem extended a grimy hand. “Four silver.”
Baler recoiled at the hand, horrified he’d ever taken a drink from any glass Pem had touched and suddenly quite sure he didn’t want to spend any time at all in one of the fat man’s beds.
“Forget it,” he said sharply, turning toward the door. Pem made an indelicate sound – no surprise – but Baler ignored it. A war of half-formed grunts with the wouldn’t get Baler home any quicker, and would mean more time to notice exactly what was wrong in the bar. No matter what the streets of Renhaven held at night, it had to be better than staying until morning at Pem’s.
He’d gone two blocks before a solid knot of fear settled into his stomach. The condition of the bar had distracted him enough that he hadn’t been able to focus on the sounds he started to hear and the smells that seemed to rise from the cobblestones themselves. Warm, fresh things, they tickled his nose and had him gagging as he walked, doing his best to focus on the stones in front of him and not the dark houses beside.
Two more blocks and he saw the first of them, shambling through the middle of the street as though it owned the dark cobbles, and the breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe the elders who spoke of the nighttime residents of the city, but he’d never seen one up close, never had occasion to be out when they rose from their slumber.
Cold fear held him until the thing passed by, not bothering to spare him a single glance or so much as drift a step in his direction. Baler was glad of that, but anger joined his slight joy at having been overlooked; this was his city more than the things that stalked its streets, and fear should be theirs, not his, to endure.
“Hey!” He called as the thing reached a bend in the road and it turned, long arms swinging and smooth face devoid of expression. “You don’t belong here – this is our city!”
The beast didn’t reply but smiled slightly, a grotesque approximation of the grins Baler was used to seeing on his friends and family. Without a word, it turned again and slipped off into the night, angling for a house down the road that glowed with amber light.
Baler’s eyes went wide; he had heard of places where the night-things gathered, but had never thought to see one in person. He was moving again before he thought about it, letting his anger carry him along. Renhaven was a safe place, somewhere those of any creed and color could find a home. He would not see it destroyed by those who sprung from its cracks and crevasses.
By the time his fear came back, pushing at the base of his throat like a dagger-point, it was already too late. He could see movement from the house ahead, make out strange shapes twisting and twirling in the lamp-light. Afraid or not, he had to know.
His next five minutes were spent inching up to the house, taking slow and measured steps to ensure that he was not heard. From the noise inside the tall building, being heard was the least of his worries but Baler saw no need to be any more incautious. He’d already risked enough.
Getting to the window proved simple, but looking inside took far more nerve. The elders never spoke about what the creatures did at night but only that they existed, only that they were to be feared. Though deep breaths helped him to relax, it soon became apparent no amount of rational thinking would provide a compelling reason to look inside.
With a sharp grunt, he forced himself to stare through the window and discover what went on once dark fell in Renhaven.
It took all his will not to retch.
They were everywhere; pink-skinned things with rounded teeth and fur sprouting only from gently curving heads. Their forms were covered in garish cloth and their feet were covered, trapped in wrappings of leather and silk. Strains of foul music played, a tune to haunt the ages with its surging tempo and airy strains.
Humans.
The word came unbidden, a remembrance from a speech of the eldest, the wisest of them all. He had called them humans, and said they were a blight upon the land, one that could not be cleansed.
Turning on his heels, Baler dropped to all fours and sprinted off into the night, wind streaming through his fur as he ran. Daylight would come soon, and he hoped to forget – Renhaven was a very different place at night.
- D
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