He had more secrets as well, her Marten. They included a small rift just a short ways out of town in the opposite direction of their stairway. He hadn’t mentioned the escape route the day the Starlights had come to town, even though it would have been the quickest path away. Perhaps, it had been too permanent an escape? She let herself imagine he hadn’t wanted her too far gone—even then.
He walked with a trace of a limp, but Hadja’s medicine had obviously offered some relief. She hadn’t missed him daubing the stuff on his cheek either, confirming her suspicion about the dark bruise there. If she’d been remotely proficient with a weapon, she might have called Vane out directly. As it was, her mind chewed on a plan to rid them all of the bastard for good.
This pocket barely had room for them to stand. It encompassed a space between two slender trees, and the trunks took up most of the real estate inside the bubble. Marten leaned against one of them and raised one eyebrow at her—her cue to surprise him.
She put her hands forward and caressed the filmy wall. Through it, Satina felt the other pockets waiting. She caught a flash of the ruins nearby, the staircase, the last pocket she’d stepped through by the Shade port. Her most recent visits filtered past and she saw more distant bubbles. A waterfall drifted past where she’d spent a night after dropping off the boy. It had only been a muddy trickle in ordinary space, but in the pocket, the water raged over the rocks and sang of a river that once was. She caught a whiff of the air there, clean and charged, before the bubbled shifted away again.
She rifled through them, looking for Henry.
It took concentration, picking a specific pocket. It took power, and she still had a long month ahead on limited dust. Usually she’d let the pockets choose for her, fly on a whim to a random location and trust fate to put her where she was needed most. But today she had a destination selected, and thanks to her special tie with Henry, the correct pocket presented itself without overmuch strain.
Satina snagged it with her mind and anchored the link. She wove the two bubbles together in space, so that the membranes just touched. Once the connection was fixed, she held it with only her memories of the place and her bond with Henry. He waited on the other side.
She kept one palm against the pocket edge and used the other to wave for Marten’s attention. She had it now, they could step right through. First, she needed to warn him about her watchdog.
“Follow me.” How did you explain something like Henry? “Stay behind me and don’t make any sudden moves.”
He didn’t respond, and she took a deep breath and stepped through, keeping the two pockets together so that Marten would have time to cross as well. It required just enough concentration to delay her reaction when Henry charged. Marten stepped over and directly into the path of the hurtling gargoyle.
To her eyes, Henry romped in their direction, wagging his long, forked tail merrily. She could only imagine what Marten saw. The look on his face gave her some clue, though he followed her directions and made no sudden movement. Then again, he might have been paralyzed with fear. Henry’s size, his armored flesh and long, curling talons had registered. She could tell by the way his lips moved, by the way he said, “g-g-g.”
“Henry, sit!”
“Gargoyle.” Marten got the word out once Henry had stopped his charge and settled on his haunches obediently, his leathery wings arching out to either side in a slow flutter.
“Yes.” Satina watched her stony friend carefully. His initial reaction had been friendly for her benefit, but now his black eyes flicked from her to Marten, and his front fangs protruded just at the tips from under a slightly curled upper lip. “Henry, this is my friend, Marten.”
The gargoyle rumbled an answer.
“Friend, Henry.”
The marble nose flared and twitched. His muzzle turned to point directly at them.
“If you meant to be rid of me,” Marten spoke softly. “There are other ways—nicer ways.”
“He’s fine.” Satina stepped between them and approached the monster who guarded her thistledown. “See?” She stood on tiptoe and scratched Henry behind his pointed ear. He moaned and lowered his head.
“You know,” Marten said. Now awe tinted his words. “I think it’s time for that story now.”
Unlikely Page 11
