Jones's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Jones ran down the alley with his coat pulled tight. A throne waited for him in a court he had never seen, and he meant to claim it. But tonight, the court had sent something else first. He could feel the assassin two streets back, close enough to taste iron in the air. He rounded a corner and stopped cold. The little brick cottage he used as a bolt-hole stood open, ivy torn from the doorframe in long green ribbons. Claw marks scored the wood. They had been here. They knew his hiding places now. Jones backed away before the shadow inside could lift its head. He sprinted across the empty lot and dropped to his knees beside a patterned iron disc set into the pavement. His fingers found the seam. He heaved, slid through, and pulled the cover back into place above him. In the dark below, he pressed his mismatched eyes shut and listened. Footsteps passed overhead, paused, and moved on. He was alive. He was also blind, underground, and the court now knew exactly who they were hunting.