Stones of Power

A cloaked figure hurried down the decrepit London street in the dead of night, trying hard to conceal its face. Shouts followed behind as the men chased it down an alleyway toward a dead end. The figure looked around frantically, realized it was trapped, and attempted to dash back up the alley. It met the mob straight on and stepped back slowly, hiding its face in the folds of cloth. Its head jerked around, searching for a way out, as the men surrounded it. Finding none, the shadow looked around desperately one more time before crumpling to the ground, hooded head down.

The mob began to move closer, and one man stepped forward, reaching out a hand to grab the figure’s shoulder. But just as his hand brushed the cloth, it fell to the ground, an empty cloak. He cried out in shock, and his eyes widened with surprise. He stooped, picked up the cloak, then threw it back down and looked around in confusion. The other men called out, and a few went up to help the man search the alley. But their hunt was in vain; they would not find the person they sought. The man who had reached out to grab the hooded silhouette faced the crowd and announced the result. But even while he spoke, proclaiming the apparition gone, a small, inconspicuous snake emerged from the cloth and slipped quietly into the shadows. No one noticed, as the man speaking held everyone’s gaze. The snake slithered down the alley and into the cobbled street, slipping from shadow to shadow as it made its way through the city. It turned onto one last street and found its way into a darkened stairwell that led down to a supposedly deserted building. It curled around the banister and disappeared down the stairs.