The Hunter General Part 3: Jericho

For the hundredth time, Jericho cursed his father’s cowardice. If it were not for him and his fear of the Guild, Jericho would have been back on Kinstower, enjoying a life of ease as the scion of one of Montaro’s wealthiest families. Instead, he mused as he sauntered through the crowds of other passengers on the airship’s aft deck, he had been handed over to the Hunters and forced to train as one of them for eight long years – and now, the ultimate indignity, he was saddled with an old woman doing a mediocre patrol of the inner atolls.

Lady du Moine was a strange one, he thought. She had barely spoken a word to him throughout the trip, save to order him to watch the other passengers for signs of Incarnation. He snorted in contempt, drawing a few odd looks – this was a fine ship, with a content and hardworking crew, and those who traveled on it tended to be well-off. If an Incarnate appeared here, it would be a freak accident.

He paused a moment, and casually looked around the deck. There were small groups of people here and there, chatting quietly or admiring the view. A trio of classical musicians were playing one of the more popular sonatas, a light and soothing melody that drifted and changed with the wind. Only the most paranoid could think that there was anything wrong here -

Wait. His hated Hunter senses caught a sudden flicker, a discordance where there should be none. Jericho looked around the deck, searching for any sign, but the flicker vanished as soon as it had appeared.

Interesting. And worrying too, of course, but he could feel the weight of his compact and powerful shotgun under his coat, guaranteed by the Guild artificers to put down anything bar a Prime Incarnate in a couple of hits. And it may not even be an Incarnate, if his teachers had been accurate. Sudden intense feelings could trigger his senses.

So who was having such a good time around here, then? Jericho stood by the railing and observed each person in turn, attempting to perceive them through his senses rather than by sight. His gaze wavered over a group of older ladies gossiping – and the flicker appeared again, faint but ominously present.

He focused. The women did not seem threatening in any way, no matter how he examined them. They were in their late thirties, at a guess, all married with husbands and nothing better to do with their time other than talk about the younger folk and their failings. Quite well-dressed, of course, in the current season’s trend; all in all, they were unlikely candidates for Incarnation.

Then one moved, and Jericho spotted the young boy that had been hidden by the voluminous dress. All at once he took in a hundred details. Maybe six or seven years old, also well dressed, looking a little bored; but to his eyes there was a suggestion of fangs, a hint of claw and hair and other bestial features hidden just under the surface. As his senses homed in on the creature – it could not be called a child now – the flicker blazed into an inferno in his mind, roaring, consuming, and Incarnate.

Part 2 – On the Airship

Part 4 – Fight!