The sun was languishing in the sky. The strong yellow light was fading into orange and red. Shadows grew longer as the sun’s angle grew sharper. Daylight was fading from the world, as inside a building in Magictown David Candlemass slopped a mop, cleaning up his sick in the back of the bar.

Charles and Maggie had moved to a pair of bar stools, and were talking closely to one another while trying to act like they didn’t know the poor bastard in the back. The floor cleaned enough to placate the barman, David joined the couple at the bar. He raised his hand to try to get another drink, but a hard look and jerk of the head told David that he was done drinking here tonight. The three of them talked for a while longer, but not about anything important. Charles said that he wanted to let what he’d just seen settle in a bit before he tried to talk about it. David said he’s spent too much time talking about important shit in the last three days to do it anymore. Maggie didn’t care about any of it anyway, she was just glad to be away from the twins for a night.

When the sun had gone to rest, hidden under the edge of the horizon with only the slightest ember of its light still showing, the three of them found themselves on the street outside the bar. A slight tick sounded through the young night as the electric street lamps in the city clicked on, followed immediately by a gentle hum that would not go quiet until dawn.

Deftly rolling a cigarette in thin brown paper, Maggie stands away from David and Charles as her husband breaks the important topic taboo and starts to pester David about his meeting with the gangs tomorrow. David is being adamant in his refusal to take Charles with him.  The cigarette rolled, she strikes a match off the brick of the building.

“Dammit, David, I don’t understand why you’re being this way. You know they don’t have any love for us. If you say the wrong thing, they could just dump you into the river. Hell, that’s why we picked the boats as a spot to live in the first place. Don’t think that Levi wouldn’t see the irony of doing you that way.”

Waving his hand dismissively, David scoffs at the idea. “They won’t do that. A few of them might want to, but Levi will keep them in check. He has to. He knows what might happen if I don’t play nice with Normaltown.”

“You think he knows. They’ve been stuck down here, pretty much cut out of any important decisions, for what? Nearly two years now? Normaltown deals with us, and we keep the gangs in line. You can’t tell me that hasn’t rubbed the five of them the wrong way.”

“I’m not saying that at all. I just know that Levi’s got enough clout to keep the other three in line.

“But what about her?”

“What about her?”

“Don’t bullshit me, David. I know you still think about her. Levi can use that against you, he can try to piss you off with it. You’ve gotta make sure-”

“Stop.” David cuts him off, his voice louder than he meant it to be. He clears his throat and continues, quieter. “Just stop, alright. She made her choice. None of that matters any more.” A slight hesitation, and David breaks eye contact with Charles. “We’re done. We’re long since done.”

Looking around, David notices the cloudiness of the air as it passes by the street lamps. “Good lord, Maggie. What are you, chain smoking over there?” David turns to face the strong brunette, expecting to see her fuming with smoke.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve been done with that smoke for a while now.” Sure enough, she’s leaning against the wall, watching the pair of them. “I was hoping Charles would dig deep enough to get you to cry.”

“Then what the hell is-” David turns back toward the street lamp. The clouds are thickening before his eyes. Curls of grey vapor snake through the air. It is cool as it passes over his face and slips, effortlessly, between the spaces in the threads of his suit. The street lamp suddenly starts to hiss and then snaps out entirely. “Oh no.”

Charles looks up and the dark street lamp, following David’s eyes. “Huh. That’s never happened before. Those lights are supposed to last forever.”

“Charles, Maggie, listen to me.” David has spun on his heels, and pulled the couple down the sidewalk by their arms. He’s quickening his pace down as he talks. “Get your girls. Get home. Lock the doors. Do not come out until morning. Do you understand?”

They’ve reached the cross street at the end of the block, Maggie is looking from her husband to David and back again. “Wait, what’s going on? It’s just fog, David. What’s got you spooked?”

Clasping his friend’s arm tighter, trying to make a point with a little bit of pain, David looks into his friend’s eyes. “This is different. I recognizes this, I remember it. This is the same mist that took my father.”

“What are you talking about? The same? David! That was years ago. Get a hold of yourself!”

David lets go of his friend’s arm. He softens his eyes and takes a step back. “Charles, believe me. Just please believe me. Go keep your girls safe.” He turns and sprints off into the night, disappearing into the enveloping fog.

The air has become gray around him, an ashen soup that blurs everything he passes by. Any other person would find themselves visually crippled and near-blind in the mist, but David is used to running fast thought these streets in the dark. When he ran the gangs, they were as much about protecting the people of Magictown as they were about preying on them. Shop keepers that didn’t provide their weekly “donation” to the cause were often the target of midnight raids by David and his followers. Speedy getaways in the dark were a must when you didn’t know if the victim might be a magic who could turn your blood solid or make you think you were drowning on dry land.

His new shoes were slicker than the soles of his old ones. It takes him nearly falling over himself when he tries to take a corner too fast before he realizes this. The old shoes he’d worn were his father’s, and they were good shoes. Right now he misses them very much.

After close to twenty minutes of running, David reaches the river. A steep bluff separates the city from the river. In some places, it slips down close to a hundred feet to the muddy shores. Near Magictown, the bluff is smaller than farther north in the city, which is why the docks and the waterworks were built here. Nearly all of the bluffs in Magictown are covered with rough hewn stone to protect the stability of the buildings on the bluff in case of a flood. David hits the metal guard rail at the top of the bluff running at a near full tilt. His hands grasp the slick metal just in time to keep his stomach from smacking into them.

The first thing that David notices is that the river and the rest of the world is gone, swallowed up by the mist. Once his breathing settles down and the blood stops thundering in his ears, he can hear the lapping of small waves against the stones below. The river isn’t gone, the mist has just hidden it away. David looks to the north, squinting, looking for any sign of life. He can’t make out the lights from the houseboats, less than two miles north from him. The lights on the tall buildings downtown are gone. Even the lights on the great bridge across the river have completely vanished into the mist.

David wonders if this is what it was like on The Night Everything Changed, when the mists came into the city, and then retreated back to form that impenetrable wall that rings the city. The air grows thicker still, David can’t even see his hands on the railing anymore. The air is growing colder, and he can feel his clothes hang wet against his body. The wind starts to pick up, making the cold cut David’s core.

There is something strange in the wind, a sound that doesn’t quite belong. David cocks his head to the side, trying to make it out over the rest of the noise. It sounds like, and he can’t believe he’s thinking this, it sounds like the wind is laughing. The wind grows stronger, tossing David’s tie and jacket about like cat with a piece of string. Stronger still, the wind and cold press on him like a crushing weight. The wind sounding like the cackle of a mad dog in the night. David can feel his hands start to hurt from the cold, and doubts that he can keep his grip much longer.

A final gust of frigid, wet air dislodges David from his grip on the railing, sending him sprawling back over the wet stones. Looking up, wincing through the pain, David sees the stars begin to dot the sky as the mist dissipates. The laughing wind grows weaker and quieter until it completely fades away.

Scrambling to his feet, David looks into the city as the last bits of the fog creep into the maze between the buildings. As it passes out of his sight, David swears he can hear the wind say one last thing.

“Cannnndlemassssss.”

A chill runs down David Candlemass’s spine, colder than anything he’s felt in years.