Chapter 9: Bark at the Moon
The boat cut through the water in a slow, steady rhythm as night settled fully over the river. The surface was calm, tinted deep blue by the glow of distant lamps and a thin sliver of moon hidden behind clouds. Cold air rolled in off the water, biting through cloth and settling into the bones. Rocks jutted up along the edges of the channel, half-submerged and slick, forcing Samuel to keep a careful hand on the oar.
They passed beneath a high stone bridge, its underside dripping steadily into the river. The sound echoed briefly, then faded. As always, Samuel broke the silence suddenly. He’d never been comfortable with quiet. Not because he disliked it, but because so few people ever listened to him when he spoke. An old man that just wanted to be remembered before he passed away.
“It’ll be a rough trip,” he said, keeping his eyes forward. “It used to be that you’d just go straight up Clavering Boulevard. Simple route. But now...” He let out heavy sigh. “Half the city’s dead from the plague. The other half’s fightin’ over what’s left.”
The boat drifted parallel to the shore. Corvo watched old brick buildings slide past—abandoned warehouses, shuttered tenements, rusted pipes jutting out into the water like broken bones. Some of them leaked slowly, staining the river with oil and refuse.
“The City Watch still holds the bigger streets,” Samuel went on. “They’ve set up those Walls of Light at the checkpoints. You walk through one of those without the right gear and—” He snapped his fingers softly. “Burned to a crisp. Doesn’t leave much to bury.”
For a moment, only the water made a sound.
Corvo finally answered, his voice low and calm. “I remember Sokolov mentioning them once. Back when he was still invited to court. He spoke about "directed electrical barriers" like it was a parlor trick.” His gaze stayed on the shore. “So they’ve wrapped the whole city in it now?”
Samuel nodded. “Not all of it. But enough. Keeps honest folk boxed in and desperate ones easy to spot. Makes people mean too. You see a Wall of Light long enough, you start thinkin’ it’s there to remind you what happens if you step out of line. Like some kind of a prison...”
Corvo said nothing at first. The cold pressed in, and with it came memories he hadn’t asked for.