Chloë by Marcus LaGrone Page A

they ate a quiet supper.  Then they carefully made
their way to the monorail, and started the slow journey to the end of their
day’s trek.
    Chloë
stared nervously out the window.  Part of her was terribly excited at the
thought that Anna was still alive and would soon get proper care.  Another
part was nervous that this was all just a heart wrenching ploy for some
lowlifes to try and make some quick cash, and Anna was, in fact, already
dead.  She had almost washed her mind clear of Anna’s death previously, and
the thought of having to relive all those emotions wore on her heavily. 
    Chloë
and Heather soon found themselves one switch of the monorail from their
destination.  It was dark out, street lamps notwithstanding, and the
darkness seemed to permeate Chloë’s very being.  Dread, however, was going
to have to fight in order to take over; Heather made sure of that.  Now
more than ever, Chloë relished Heather’s bouncy personality, boundless
optimism, and giddy perspective of the world.  Heather sensed Chloë’s concern,
so she stayed close and tried to distract her with chit-chat.  But
something, or rather someone, suddenly caught Chloë’s eye and panic
started to set in.
    “We
have company,” murmured Chloë as she nodded to a man of barely twenty ahead of
them.  His soft golden fur and white throat made him look common enough,
but Chloë recognized him immediately.
    “One
of the guys back from Edmundshire?” asked Heather.
    Chloë
shook her head.  “Worse—one of the agents to the palace guards.”
    Heather
shook her head.  “No, I think that is better .  He should be
professional at least.”   Suddenly Heather’s mind shifted two gears.
“Unless… do you think he is the type to turn on your father for profit?”
    Chloë
shook her head.  “No.  He was very loyal.  To a fault.”
    “Then
let’s go see what he is doing here,” suggested Heather with a grin.
    “Do
you think that is wise?”
    “Better
an enemy you know of than someone lurking in the shadows.  Does he have a
name?”
    Chloë
wanted to argue with that logic, but it didn’t matter.   Heather was
already in motion.  “Raymond,” she offered as she hurried to catch up.
    Raymond
turned and made eye contact just as the pair started to close.  His fur
immediately stood on end, and he tried to wave them away.  “You need to
get out of here, my lady.  There are people hunting for you here,” he
hissed in Chloë’s native tongue.
    Chloë
nodded, “We know.   Do you know the Old Tongue or Gamehra?”
    “Gamehra
I know well, my lady,” he replied shifting languages.  “Your father misses
you terribly, but that discussion is for tomorrow.  Tonight you are in
danger; people here are looking for you.  Why did you ever come to this
horrible side of town?”
    “I
was told they were holding Anna, and that she was badly injured.  If I
paid them off, they’d let Anna go, and I could get her to a local
hospital.  Do you know anything of this?”
    “No,
my lady.  But my best guess is even if they do have Anna, injured or
otherwise, they will try to capture you as well.”
    “That
is what I said,” interrupted Heather with a grin.  “And why is it so much
better that Chloë is with you than them?  Aren’t your orders to bring
Chloë back to the palace?”
    Raymond
nodded, “Young ma’am…”
    “Her
name is Heather.  She is the daughter of the Baron of Threedales in the
Highlands, and my friend.”
    “My
apologies, Lady Heather.  My orders are to try to persuade Lady
Chloë to return.  In no way am I to use force or subterfuge.  If my
lady charge were to speak against me at her return, it would be…”
    “Fatal?”
asked Heather with a grin.  “And feel free to just call me Heather. 
I prefer that.  While my father, Llewellyn Silverglade of house Stratford,
is the baron, even he does not take to the excessive use of titles.”
    “ Llewellyn
Silverglade…, ” Raymond spoke with a faint