Greatshadow by James Maxey

muffled, farting, “hur hur hur,” that filtered from beneath his face flap.
    Menagerie raised his hand. Reeker looked instantly chagrined. No-Face’s spooky chuckle went silent.
    “I apologize for the insensitivity of my colleagues,” the tattooed man said to Infidel. “Stagger was a beloved brother in the larger family of Commonground. I, for one, shall miss him.”
    “Yeah,” said Reeker. “I kind of liked the guy. There going to be a funeral? I’ll send flowers.”
    “The funeral was private,” said Infidel. “And I don’t want to talk about Stagger any more. I want to talk about the dragon hunt you boys are going on. I want in.”
    “As do I,” said Relic, hobbling up beside the women.
    Menagerie looked down at the hunchback. “Who the hell are you?”
    “Infidel calls me Relic. This will serve.”
    “Uh-huh,” said Menagerie. “I can’t help but notice that you look, um... less than formidable. While I can’t confirm the existence of any upcoming dragon hunts, may I ask what, exactly, would you bring to the table?”
    “Knowledge,” said Relic. “I’ve survived Greatshadow’s lair before. My experience may provide the difference between success and failure.”
    “Is that so?” said Menagerie.
    The hunchback nodded.
    “Be that as it may, I am not in charge of hiring for any missions that may or may not be occurring soon,” said Menagerie. “The Black Swan may have been conducting transactions of this nature, but to reiterate, she’s now closed to all business.”
    Aurora clenched her fists. “Menagerie, who do you think you’re fooling? You know I know all about the mission. Get the hell out of my way. I’m talking to the Black Swan.” She stepped forward, looking ready to push the mercenaries aside.
    Reeker spit a gob of pale green phlegm toward her eyes. The wad crackled as it froze inches from her skin, bouncing harmlessly off her cheek, its foul payload neutralized. She punched out with an ice-gauntleted fist, sending the skunk-man flying toward the edge of the dock. He landed on his feet with inches to spare, but momentum was against him. He stumbled backward, and vanished over the edge with a splash.
    No-Face swung his chain-draped fist and caught Aurora beneath the chin, hard enough that the frost coating her face flew off in a spray. She went down, landing flat on her back, as snow danced in the air where she’d just stood. She started to rise, but before she could sit up, Menagerie leapt toward her, taking the form of a huge, black-horned ram. His head smashed into Aurora’s tusks with a loud, sharp crack . Aurora’s arms flopped to her side as she stared up into the pale morning sky, cross-eyed and dazed.
    Infidel grinned. This was her oh-good-there’s-a-fight-and-I-was-wanting-to-hit-someone grin. She punched No-Face right where his mouth should have been. He staggered backward, stopping when his back slammed into the locked door of the Black Swan . Infidel kicked him in the gut, shattering the wood behind him, knocking him inside.
    Infidel spun to face Menagerie, who’d leapt into the air as a ram. In the span of a heartbeat, his body flowed into a fifteen-foot-long shark, his mouth stretched wide enough to clamp onto Infidel’s face. She raised both hands, shielding herself with her forearms as the toothy jaws snapped shut. There was a loud crunch . Bright fragments of white teeth showered onto the docks. For half a second, the shark hung there, clamped onto Infidel’s unbreakable arms. Infidel head-butted the shark in the snout. The big fish flew off, and Menagerie was once again human as he landed ass-first on the dock, blood streaming from his nose.
    “Ouch,” he said, spitting out broken teeth.
    Infidel loomed over him, fists clenched. “Had enough?”
    From inside the jagged hole that No-Face had left in the door, there was a confused grunt.
    Menagerie looked toward the hole, and his face went slack. Infidel turned toward the noise as well. Her brow