The Only City Left: Part 79

Welcome to my serial science-fiction/fantasy adventure, The Only City Left. This is the story of Allin Arcady and his adventures through a dying, planet-sized city called Earth. (Click here for the Table of Contents.)

At the end of Part 78, Doyle was sharing his version of Arcady family history with Allin, when he revealed that he got his powers from a mysterious force called the Fifth House.

The Only City Left: Part 79

The Fifth House? That was the name of the distant kingdom that gave the older brother his powers in Mom’s story, and the slave in the Garden had used that phrase in Doyle’s title. Banshee had alluded to them without knowing their name. If any part of this story were true, this might be it.

“What’s the Fifth House?” I asked.

“Gods. Or as close to them as the Earth can afford nowadays.”

“So you met some gods.” So much for the truth.

He scowled at my sarcasm. “I have a werewolf army and I came back from the dead, and you find it hard to believe I met some gods? Well, believe what you want. I found them or they found me. Either way, they gave me the power to become a werewolf and to turn others, and the coils to allow us to transform even in the depths of the city. In return, they asked only that I expand my empire, which as you might have guessed I was quite happy to do. But first I had to protect my wife, so upon my return I infected her.”

“You!?” Doyle had been the one to turn Mom into a werewolf? Could that be true? Not that it made it any better, but I liked to think that Dad had been the one to do it. If it was Doyle, it meant I was even more connected to him, as if the werewolf side of me was his son. I felt ill.

“Yes. She was safer that way. I did Dylan next. That was my biggest mistake, sharing my power with the betrayer. But I couldn’t have known at the time. No, all I knew was that the city was dangerous and I needed to make it safer. I built a new Garden for Jessie and vowed she would always be safe within its walls. But while I worked to infect more wolves and build a fortress, my brother poisoned my wife against me. No fortress, no matter how impregnable, can withstand such rot from the inside.”

Wow, I had it so wrong all this time. Doyle isn’t the bad guy at all; it was my parents. Now that I see the light, I’ll gladly do whatever I can to help him. How could I have ever been so wrong? At least, that’s what he seemed to expect me to say. He was so earnest in his delivery of the tale, I didn’t doubt that he believed it himself. I suspected that after all these years as half a ghost, Uncle Doyle was more than a little bit insane.

“While I was busy building an army, your parents hatched their plan. And when I took a break from my works to spend time with my wife, they struck. They cut me down and left me for dead. What they couldn’t have known was that the Fifth House had given me the means to survive death via the Lazarus swarm. Once I returned, I vowed to track them down to the ends of the Earth and make them pay for their crime.”

“I guess that didn’t work out so well for you.” I couldn’t help myself. Tied to a table, waiting for who knows what horrible fate to befall me, all I had left were my words, so I used them to inflict what wounds I could. But instead of looking angry, Doyle grinned his wolfish grin.

“For a long time, yes. But now here you are, and all will be right again soon.”
“How’s that exactly?”

Doyle stood up, walked over to me, and cupped my cheek with his hand, almost a caress. I shuddered under his touch.

“You have wondered, I am sure, about my present state of being? A ghost who can touch but can’t feel? Solid one moment…”

He brought his hand up behind his head and then brought it down to slap me. I winced against the expected impact, but instead of a slap I felt like someone was pouring fine sand over my face. I opened my eyes and saw that his arm from the elbow down looked like flowing smoke. It passed over my face with all the force of a strong breeze.

“…Insubstantial the next. And back again.”

His hand and arm re-formed and he gave me a light slap on my cheek with the back of his hand.

“An amusing party trick, to be sure, but no way to live, to really live,” Doyle said. He started to pace again. “I can’t blame the Fifth House. They told me it would work best with someone of my own blood, but it was taking so long to capture Dylan, I had to try using someone else.”

Someone of my own blood.

“Use them for what?”

“To transfer my mind into their bodies, of course.”

“Mind transfer? You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? I may be mechanical and you biological, but we’re both delivery devices for consciousness. The Fifth House showed me how to overwrite a host body with my consciousness, but it has never fully worked. The host body always rejects me. But with each failure, I consumed the body. Rather, the nanobots that make up my body did. I grew stronger, more solid. But even though I can touch, I can’t feel. Even though I can tear into warm flesh with these teeth, I can’t taste the blood. It’s driving me mad!”

That last part I could agree with.

“For years I chased after your family, desperate to capture Dylan and transfer my consciousness into his body. I even had some notion that I could effect the transfer in secret and in that way be with my sweet, poisonous Jessie one last time, willingly, before I murdered her. Imagine the hurt and betrayal she would have felt as the man she thought was her husband choked the life out of her. But then your parents went and got themselves killed. Which left you, Allin. You’re my only family left, and I’m going to have to kick you out of that body of yours. Nothing personal.”

* * *

Continue to Part 80.

8/18/13 News: First off, I finally put a reminder in my calendar to post the new TOCL episode, and without it, I would definitely have forgotten again. Second, yes, Fiona called it. Doyle wants to kick Allin out of his body. In rewrite news, I finished Chapter 3 and it is off to my editor. She has had minimal notes on the first two chapters, which is good news. I have 43 chapters planned, so I feel like I am once more at the beginning of a long road, but I am glad that I will have a better book at the end of it.

The Only City Left is listed on the Web Fiction Guide, a wonderful place to find all sorts of online fiction.

If you enjoyed this post, please click the image below to give The Only City Left a vote on Top Web Fiction. (One vote allowed per week.)

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Logo Credit:The TOCL logo is courtesy of Jande Rowe of the webcomic Aedre’s Firefly. If you haven’t already read AF, I encourage you to go check it out. Not only does Jande produce the comic, she reviews other long-form webcomics, gives tips and instructions on creating a comic, and is endlessly supportive of other creators. For a great review that will bring you up to speed on Aedre’s Firefly, check out this page at Webcomic Alliance.

The Only City Left: Part 34

Welcome to my serial science-fiction/fantasy adventure, The Only City Left. This is the story of Allin Arcady and his adventures through a dying, planet-sized city called Earth.

If you are new to The Only City Left and want a quick catch-up, you can read a synopsis of Parts 1-30 and then start at Part 31. You can reach an individual part of the story by browsing the Table of Contents.

At the end of Part 33, Allin and Tumble had exited the maze of traps surrounding Pudlington and were on their way, hopefully, to the Roof of the World, the surface of the city-planet Earth.

The Only City Left: Part 34

“How far down do you think we are from the surface?” I asked.

We had been walking for half a day already, and while intellectually I knew that this was a tiny portion of the journey ahead of us, I felt an excitement in the pit of my stomach. I’m on the right path again.

“I couldn’t tell you, Allin,” Tumble replied from beneath the brim of his wide, conical leaf hat. He had produced that hat and a black and red poncho from his backpack earlier and donned them both without explanation. “I have a general sense of the route we need to take from having studied schematics for this part of the city. But those are centuries old, so forgive me if we seem to be moving in a roundabout manner. I’ll do my best.”

“Of course, of course, I understand,” I assured him. “Can’t do any worse than I have.”

The corridors we walked through showed the ravages of time. Broken, decayed ceiling panels littered our path and ages-old wiring hung down in clumps from the gaps above us. Occasionally, a light still flickered anemically, but for the most part I relied on my wristlight. Tumble walked farther ahead, taking point since he could see well enough in the dark. Because of our distance, and out of a healthy respect for whatever might be lurking around us, we spent most of the day in silence. I was used to traveling alone, but when Tumble called a halt for a meal break, I looked forward to the chance to talk to someone outside of my own head.

We picked a spot mostly free of debris, sat down with our backs against the wall, and pulled our food out of our packs. I had several nutri-bulbs, enough to tide me over for a few weeks, so I picked one out and dipped it in the remaining jelly. It actually made the usually tasteless bulbs more palatable, making me even sadder that most of it had leaked into my cocoon bag.

“You found the jelly I packed for you,” Tumble noted with a smile. “I hope you enjoy it.”

I bit my tongue and kept repeating He meant well he meant well he meant well to myself. Oblivious to the mess he had caused, Tumble gnawed on a hard roll and fish jerky. He offered me some, but I passed.

“So why the getup?” I asked to change the subject. Tumble had set his hat between us and I nudged it for emphasis.

Between bites, he explained that the existence of a city of cats was thought by many to be a legend, and the cats preferred to keep it that way.

“We were pets once, even food to some,” he said. “I’d rather our existence not become well known, lest whatever humans remain think of trying to return to those days.”

The thought of eating one of the humanoid cats turned my stomach. I scowled at him and asked, “Are you kidding me?”

His face was stern as he replied, “No.”

“That’s messed up.”

He nodded and then our conversation ebbed for a while. Illuminated by my wristlight, the corridor around us lay still in its senescence. It felt as if the whole universe consisted of the sphere of light that contained Tumble and me. It was hard to imagine the enormity of the city outside of our bubble universe, and if I thought about it too much I would want to curl up and not ever move on.

I tried to distract myself from those thoughts by eating, but Tumble’s talk of humans dining on the catfolk put me off my nutri-bulb. It seemed like no matter what amazing things humans could create—the city, genmod cats, whatever—we could find just as inventive and malicious ways to destroy them.

“What do you think happened?” I asked Tumble softly.

He didn’t need me to explain what I meant. Everyone who lives in the city must have the same question ever-present in their mind.

He nodded but didn’t answer immediately. While I waited, I snapped open a tiny compartment beneath the dome of my wristlight and slid some crumbs of nutri-bulb inside, food for the glowing algae. They must have been hungry because their glow increased considerably as they absorbed the nutrient-rich scraps. When I closed the compartment back up with a snap, Tumble was ready to talk.

He looked up and around, as if he could see through the ceiling, past the sagging wires and broken light fixtures.

“I have always thought that the humans created something they could not control,” he mused. “A virus, or a machine, or some other being, like myself, who by all rights should not exist.”

He wiggled the thin but very human-like fingers of one hand before his face, then made a fist and unsheathed his claws.

“Not that I don’t appreciate my existence,” he continued. “But it is easy to imagine that man’s hubris outpaced his caution. Yes, if you forced me to pick one, I would guess that mankind created its own destroyer.”

“But the city’s mostly empty now,” I said, not arguing, just teasing out the implications. “Or at least it feels like it. So where are they, these creatures that turned on their own creators?”

Tumble sheathed his claws and turned his hand palm up.

“Who knows? Maybe they killed each other off, or maybe I’m entirely wrong. It’s the great unknowable, isn’t it? Now I have a question for you.”

I nodded for him to go ahead.

“Say we reach the roof of the world and you see the sun. What then?”

It was my turn to sit and think. I had never considered it. Reaching the surface seemed like such an impossibility that all my focus was on getting there in the first place. I admitted as much to Tumble, and asked, “Why? Do you have a suggestion?”

I was sure he would suggest joining the fight against the werewolves, but to his credit he stayed away from that forbidden topic.

“No. Only that you consider it, lest you achieve your goal and then have nothing else to live for.”

“Do you think we can make it?” I wondered. “I’ve tried for three years and it seems like I’m no closer than when I started.”

“We can but try. If I’m not mistaken, I’m leading us to an elevator. Working or not, that should be a nice shortwait—” Tumble cut himself off and held out his hand for silence.

Whatever he sensed, I felt it, too. My neck hairs stood on end and a shiver shot down my back. We both stood up and Tumble settled his hat over his head again, tightening the chin strap with an economical yank of his hand.

“Get ready,” he warned me, one second before the ceiling caved in on either side of us.

Out of the fresh holes in the ceiling dropped several men. There were eight of them, similar in their gaunt frames, ragged clothing and dirt-streaked faces. Each carried a dagger or sword that looked as battered as the wielders. One of the men, distinctive in that the beak of his nose looked almost as sharp as the point of his sword, declared, “Give us all your supplies and we’ll kill you quick.”

I tensed, ready to fight, but I felt a gentle pressure on my calf and looked down to see Tumble pressing his hand against me.

“I’ve got this,” he whispered, and stepped forward, a diminutive, shrouded figure. To the men, he stated, “You don’t want to do this, I assure you.”

Beak-nose laughed and his men joined in. “I guess we’ll kill you slow, then.”

* * *

Continue to Part 35.

10/7/12 News: The Only City Left is now listed on the Web Fiction Guide, a wonderful place to find all sorts of online fiction. If you are so inclined, I would appreciate any ratings/reviews/recommends on that site to help get TOCL noticed. Thanks!

If you enjoyed this post, please click the image below to give The Only City Left a vote on Top Web Fiction. (One vote allowed per week.)

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Logo Credit:The TOCL logo is courtesy of Jande Rowe of the webcomic Aedre’s Firefly. If you haven’t already read AF, I encourage you to go check it out. Not only does Jande produce the comic, she reviews other long-form webcomics, gives tips and instructions on creating a comic, and is endlessly supportive of other creators. For a great review that will bring you up to speed on Aedre’s Firefly, check out this page at Webcomic Alliance.

The Only City Left: Part 21

Welcome to my serial science-fiction/fantasy adventure, The Only City Left. This is the story of Allin Arcady and his adventures through a dying, planet-sized city called Earth.

If you are new to The Only City Left and want a quick catch-up, you can read a synopsis of Parts 1-17 and then jump into the story at Part 18. You can reach an individual part by browsing the Table of Contents.

At the end of Part 20, Emperor Banshee suggested that Allin might be able to infiltrate the werewolves’ lair and kill their leader, his uncle Doyle.

The Only City Left: Part 21

“You want me to sneak into my uncle’s secret lair and kill him? The giant ghost who was trying to kill me?” I half-spoke, half-laughed. “Why don’t you ask for something big next time?”

“It is a dangerous assignment, I’ll grant you,” Banshee said. “But one you are uniquely capable of completing.”

“Why me?”

“If you could transform into a werewolf, you have the best chance of anyone to get inside the Garden, find Doyle, and complete the mission. You’ll be just another wolf to them.”

“The Garden?”

“That’s what Doyle has named his ever-expanding empire. Ironic, I know.”

“Just because I look like one of them, I don’t think it will be as simple to get to Doyle as you’re making it out to be.”

Banshee nodded. “That is the other reason you are uniquely suited for this. Even if you can’t or don’t transform, you are still Doyle’s nephew, and by your own account his people had orders to bring you in alive. It’s perfect. Your safety is ensured and you will be right where we need you to be to end this threat.”

I began to pace back and forth in front of the two cats, all this new information racing through my brain, ricocheting around inside my skull.

“Let me…. For one moment, let me entertain the idea of going along with this. How exactly do you expect me to kill a ghost?”

Tumble held up one finger in protest. “Ghosts are nothing more than swarms of nano-bots imprinted with the memories of the deceased. They are mechanical, electrical, not spiritual, and so are susceptible to the same attack as any other mechanical creature.”

I stopped, hands on my hips.

“In other words, you want me to emp him.”

In theory, using an electro-magnetic pulse to kill a ghost should work the same as it did with the tacmites. It would wipe out all the saved information contained within the Lazarus swarm, along with the machinery of the nano-bots themselves. No more body, no more soul, no more ghost. In theory.

“Exactly,” Tumble said. “Our scientists will provide you with a tiny device that will go undetected if they search you. As soon as you’re in his presence, you set it off. Once Doyle’s gone, we’ll sweep in and clear up his crew.”

“One little problem with that scenario,” I said, shaking my head. “Doyle is not like any other ghost I’ve ever encountered, so there’s no guarantee your plan will work.”

“Yes,” Banshee drew the syllable out into a hiss. “We are aware that he has evolved past the normal bounds of the afterlife. He is solid. He can transform from werewolf to human and back at will. As you’re aware, this has its drawbacks as well.”

Damn straight. If Doyle had been able to phase through the hatch I slammed shut on him, I would have never escaped him.

“It is safe to assume that his altered state is one more gift from the unknown party that turned him in the first place. But this matters not,” Banshee said. “He may be a different sort of ghost, but he’s still a ghost, and we are confident that the E.M. pulse will disincorporate him.”

I stared at Banshee for a moment and then turned and walked over to one of the flowering bushes. I closed my eyes and breathed in the cloying aroma of the flowers as I tried to wrap my brain around all this information.

My parents: werewolves who lied to me my entire life.

My uncle who I didn’t even know existed until recently: a mutant werewolf ghost who wants me back in his life for reasons unknown.

Me: probably a werewolf, too, and in a unique position to finish the job that my father started nearly two decades ago. Namely, murdering my uncle.

And Banshee is confident his plan will work, I thought. Confident enough to send me into danger while he waits to see if it works.

“No,” I murmured. Then louder, “No!”

I turned around to face Banshee and Tumble. They were having a whispered conversation but stopped to listen to me.

“I appreciate the meal and all,” I said, closing the distance between us. “But as for the job offer, no thanks. You’ll have to find someone else crazy enough to try to kill my uncle.

“As for this,” I wrapped my fist around Dad’s lantern coil and yanked on it, snapping the necklace free. I threw it to the floor at Banshee’s feet. “Your scientists can have it, for all I care. It’s a lie, just like everything else I’ve ever known.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sleep on that nice bed one more time. Tomorrow, I’m out of here.”

Banshee glared at me and Tumble made as if to speak, but I interrupted him.

“Don’t mind me, I’ll find my own way back.”

I scarcely paid attention to my surroundings as I left the rooftop garden and descended into the city. Snippets of my conversation with Banshee played over and over in my head. I had learned so much about my parents and about myself, and none of it good.

Pudlington grew darker as I navigated its byways, and it wasn’t simply my mood. The city’s night-cycle had begun, and as the lights slowly dimmed and more and more shadows filled my path, I reached for my coil and grasped an empty space. Old habits.

The coil was a thing of my past and so was the entire sector. I decided that when I left Pudlington the next day, I would do my best to leave it all behind: the sector, the coil, the cats and wolves, the memories of Mom and Dad and Glin’s Rising. I was done with the past and only wanted to look to the future.

Meantime in the present, my feet carried me to the platform outside my room despite the dimming light and being lost in my own thoughts.

A sound from within broke me out of my reverie. Had Tumble beat me back here to try to convince me to follow Banshee’s plan? Good luck.

I ducked through the window and saw not a cat, but another human. A woman in a dark green satin dress, standing with her back to me as she inspected the triptych.

She had pale skin and fiery red hair that fell to her shoulders. My heart began to pound furiously against my rib cage and I broke out into an instant sweat.

I might have been done with my past, but it wasn’t done with me.

“Tyena.”

* * *

Get reacquainted with Tyena in Part 22, or read my notes first if you like.

7/8/12 News: So Allin said “No” to Banshee’s fine offer. Imagine that. Maybe Banshee doesn’t understand human psychology enough, because he really thought his sales pitch was going to work. Allin’s a hard sell, though. The last time he played the hero, things didn’t work out so well; he’s not exactly motivated to try it again. Of course, Banshee’s sales pitch might not be over yet, after all…

If you enjoyed this post, please click the image below to give The Only City Left a vote on Top Web Fiction. (One vote allowed per week.)

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Logo Credit:The TOCL logo is courtesy of Jande Rowe of the webcomic Aedre’s Firefly. If you haven’t already read AF, I encourage you to go check it out. Not only does Jande produce the comic, she reviews other long-form webcomics, gives tips and instructions on creating a comic, and is endlessly supportive of other creators. For a great review that will bring you up to speed on Aedre’s Firefly, check out this page at Webcomic Alliance.

The Only City Left: Part 20

Welcome to my serial science-fiction/fantasy adventure, The Only City Left. This is the story of Allin Arcady and his adventures through a dying, planet-sized city called Earth.

If you are new to The Only City Left and want a quick catch-up, you can read a synopsis of Parts 1-17 and then jump into the story at Part 18. You can reach an individual part by browsing the Table of Contents.

At the end of Part 19, Allin discovers that the lantern coil given to him by his father is capable of emitting moonlight, and that the werewolves use the coils to transform. So why did Dad have a coil?

The Only City Left: Part 20

“Dad’s lantern coil?” I asked, lifting it up to examine it. “That makes sense, I guess. The werewolf that got away in Glin’s Rising was collecting these. But how does it transform someone into a werewolf?”

I absentmindedly pressed the buttons on the edge of the glass ovoid that housed the coil, and it lit up with its aureate yellow glow. Its light was cleaner, healthier somehow than the sterile light that poured out from Pudlington’s ceiling, but the cats reacted as if I had drawn a gun on them.

Banshee raised his hands in a defensive posture, claws out, and I instinctively backed up a step or two. I looked over and saw Tumble, similarly tense, claws out and hair puffed up.

“Hey guys, it’s just a light,” I soothed. “What’s the big deal?”

Tumble moved to stand beside Banshee, shaking his fur into place as he walked.

“Not just a light, Allin,” Tumble explained. “Sunlight, if our theories are correct. Captured and transmitted into the coil housed inside the casing.”

Sunlight? No wonder these things were so precious. To bring sunlight into the dark depths of the city, even a little bit, was a wondrous thing. Both Mom and Dad’s coils had glowed with that gentle, golden light, in sharp contrast to the ones that belonged to the werewolves.

“The werewolf coils emit moonlight instead, don’t they?” I hazarded.

I recalled the bursts of harsh, white light that lit up the darkened department store so many years ago in Glin’s. Grinty and his crew, human when we entered the store, and then transformed into gruesome beasts. All made possible by the coils they wore.

“They do,” Banshee intoned. “But their coils are no different than the one you wear. It too can produce moonlight, if operated correctly.”

That explained why the werewolf had wanted to take it from me, but…

“Even if it did emit moonlight, what’s there to worry about? I’ve never been bitten.”

The darkened department store.

Banshee leaned forward. “Allin, your father stole the coils for a reason.”

Flashes of white light.

“Yeah, to keep them from the werewolves, and to light the darkness.”

A shape hurtling overhead to tackle the female werewolf that threatened me.

“Do you truly believe that? Your father remained with Doyle’s gang for years, during which time more coils were discovered, more werewolves were created. Do you think Doyle’s own brother would not be included?”

Grinty, dead, falling to the ground before me.

“You’re saying Dad was one of them, that he stole a coil so he could change when he needed.”

Dad, his lantern coil glowing yellow, standing weaponless over Grinty’s corpse. Could he have killed a werewolf with his bare hands?

“It is very likely.”

The sunlight from Dad’s coil. That was the first time I had seen its light in the department store. Before that, it was all white light. Moonlight.

“Mom had a coil, too.”

Mom’s lantern coil in the she-beast’s hand, and then Mom, a frail, injured human taking on the hulking she-beast.

“Yes,” Banshee agreed, his voice solemn.

As humans, Mom and Dad had been murdered by the werewolves within seconds, but the fight had gone on for some time before that. How could they have survived for so long, unless…

“You can’t be certain,” I insisted, but it didn’t matter. They were certain, and so was I.

“Getting bitten isn’t the only way to become a werewolf, is it?” I asked. “You can be born as one.”

“If both your parents are werewolves, yes,” Banshee said.

I wanted to deny it, I wanted it not to be true, but it was the only answer that made any sense. It was Mom who leaped to my defense in that store, not as a human woman but as a fearsome beast who could hold her own against an inhuman opponent. And Dad had only become human again to talk to me. He had let down his defenses so that I wouldn’t see that he was as much a monster as the creatures he was fighting.

And I was a monster, too, thanks to them, wanting only a ray of moonlight to unleash the beast inside me.

“No wonder your people aren’t thrilled you let me in,” I said, recalling the looks I had gotten after the feast. “I don’t blame them.”

“If I could not handle one werewolf cub, I wouldn’t be a fit Emperor,” Banshee snarled. “But the point is moot. You don’t know how to switch the coil to moonlight mode.”

“Still, why risk it? Because Dad tried to kill his brother twenty years ago? That didn’t work out so well, sounds like.”

“There is another reason you were allowed within these walls,” Banshee admitted. “We have a proposition for you.”

Tumble took over: “Your coil is the first one we’ve ever had access to, Allin. The werewolves guard the technology closely. Even when we manage to bring a wolf down, the others make sure to rescue the coil before we can abscond with it.

“Our hope is that if we can examine the coil, we can figure out a way to interrupt the transmission of moonlight. Without that, Doyle’s wolves go back to being just a bunch of human punks again, and we’ll make short work of them.”

“So why didn’t you just take the coil from me when I was passed out?” I asked.

Banshee answered, “Because if we can’t block the moonlight, perhaps we can make it work for us.”

I scratched my cheek and eyed Tumble and Banshee in turn.

“Make it work how?”

Tumble replied, “By allowing you to transform into a werewolf.”

I took that in and played it back in my head to make sure I had heard it right.

“And you would want that why exactly?”

Banshee folded his arms across his chest, leaned back, and said, “So you can infiltrate the wolves’ lair and finish the job your father began. Doyle Arcady must be killed.”

* * *

Infiltrate Part 21, or read my notes below first.

7/1/12 News: And now we see what all Banshee’s wining and dining and praise of Dylan’s heroics was all about: buttering Allin up so that he’ll accept a dangerous assignment into enemy territory. Hmmm, I wonder if it will work.

If you enjoyed this post, please click the image below to give The Only City Left a vote on Top Web Fiction. (One vote allowed per week.)

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Logo Credit:The TOCL logo is courtesy of Jande Rowe of the webcomic Aedre’s Firefly. If you haven’t already read AF, I encourage you to go check it out. Not only does Jande produce the comic, she reviews other long-form webcomics, gives tips and instructions on creating a comic, and is endlessly supportive of other creators. For a great review that will bring you up to speed on Aedre’s Firefly, check out this page at Webcomic Alliance.