Hunting November

by Adriana Mather

  I choose a chair that gives me a view of the pub across the street, which seems to be much bigger and fancier than the place we’re in. Above the entrance to the pub there’s a big wooden sign with the name THE LIONS’ DEN painted in gold letters. And outside the door are two serious-looking men, one of whom I would guess is nearly seven feet tall. I gulp. My dad was right when he described the guy as tall.

  I peek at my phone in my pocket for messages from Layla that came in before I lost reception.

  Layla: Be safe. See you in the Lion estate.

  I erase Layla’s text as Ines sits down across from me. She doesn’t say a word and neither do I; we just tilt our heads down, covertly keeping track of that bouncer like our lives depend on it.

  Seconds turn into minutes and I’m sweating so badly that if anyone could see my face they’d probably wonder if I was ill. Please go. Just go already. I plead and scream silently at the tall bouncer to leave his post and head for the Lion estate, but to no avail. He just stands outside the pub with his arms crossed. So I start counting, which is the only thing I can think to do that will keep me grounded.

  When I’ve counted to exactly one hundred and thirty-eight I hear chairs scrape against the floor directly behind us. From the sound of it, six or so people are sitting down. And at one hundred and forty a familiar voice booms behind me. I stop counting.

  Hawk. Of all the places he would go after the ball, it had to be this tavern?

  “Scooped him right up—never stood a chance.” He’s bragging, and I can almost see him gesturing at his crew. “Mary and Jenny were part of organizing it from the start. And it’s not the first time we’ve worked with the Ferryman, neither.”

  “Is that so?” says a voice I don’t recognize. “That must have been quite the golden calf. I’m not sure we could pay as much as all that.”

  “Then we might not be the right crew for you,” Hawk says, and it’s clear by his tone that he loves to negotiate.

  I sit bolt upright and Ines kicks me under the table. The Ferryman? Mary and Jenny? Scooped him right up? Anger swirls inside me, clenching my fists and tightening my jaw. With great effort, I exhale the tension, writing Hawk an IOU in my head. And suddenly my desire flip-flops—I now want that bouncer to stay exactly where he is until Hawk moves so I don’t have to walk past him.

  As though the universe is conspiring against me, I glance outside at the bouncers, and sure enough, two men have arrived to take their place. My muscles tighten, bracing for our exit. No, no, no. I’ve been waiting for what feels like years for them to change shifts and it happens the moment Hawk sits down behind me and says he played a part in capturing my dad? This can’t be happening.

  Ines slides her chair back from the table. Reluctantly I stand, careful to keep my head down as I turn around. The bad news is that Hawk’s whole crew is at the table, plus a middle-aged bald man I’ve never seen before. The good news is that Hawk is fully engaged in his conversation, pandering to the bald man the way he once did with me and Ash. But with six crowded around a table meant for four, they’ve practically boxed us in. Even Ines, who’s slighter than me and perfectly graceful, has a hard time maneuvering between them and the window.

  And then it happens: Hawk laughs and leans back, tilting his chair on two legs and colliding with Ines as she walks past. She barely stumbles, but the space is tight and the forward motion causes her to knock into the bald man, spilling his pint of beer all over his lap. As if on cue, Hawk and his crew all turn to look at Ines and me. No!

  The bald man growls and grabs Ines by the wrist. Her free hand immediately moves to her belt under her coat, where I know she has multiple knives.

  “I hope you’re reaching for your wallet, darlin’, otherwise you’re going to sorely regret it,” the bald man says to Ines in a way that tells me he’s used to people backing down from him.

  Anger flashes in Ines’s eyes and I get the distinct impression that in any other circumstances she would take her chances and fight this guy. But I can’t think about how to help her because Hawk is staring at me and I at him. And it’s instantly clear that he recognizes me. My eyes flit to Mary, the no-nonsense woman who dismissed us angrily when Ash and I tried to hire them, and her expression is as hardened as ever.

  “I’ll get you another,” Ines says through clenched teeth, and yanks her wrist out of the bald man’s grasp. And for a moment I can’t believe she’s forcing civility. Is she waiting to see what Hawk will do, or does she know something I don’t about unallied crews?

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” the bald man says, and I’m reminded of what Aarya said about Strategia smelling weakness. “I’m not sure I like that tone of yours. Not very, uh, apologetic.”

  Jenny, the weapons specialist with the long sword earring and the leather jacket, clenches her jaw. But no one else at the table so much as tweaks an eyebrow. Time slows to a near halt, everyone calculating what move they’re going to make without having arrived at a firm decision.

  “Run along now,” the bald man says to Ines, pushing his chair out farther and completely cutting me off from the exit. “We’ll just keep your friend here company until you return.”

  I glare at the bald man. My possible escape routes are absolute garbage—I can either jump on the table and hope I can get off the other side without one of Hawk’s crew cutting me down or I can try to force my way past this jerk, which will probably end the same way.

  The bald man turns to me, wiping his lips with the back of his hand—a hand cluttered with rings, one of which is a big silver owl. My thoughts immediately go to Nyx—the Owl Family. And in that instant time speeds up again.

  Before I can react to being cornered, Ines grabs the bald man’s mostly empty pint and clobbers him in the head with it. Oh god. Shit. We’re dead. I would expect something rash like that from Aarya, but not in a million years did I think Ines would lose her cool.

  I reach for my knife and the table of four men next to us stands up, posturing for a fight. They look from the bald man to me and Ines, and I realize they must be friends with him, or work for him. Even if Ines and I had a chance of fighting Hawk’s crew of five, we have no chance of fighting ten.

  To my utter shock, Mary stands, too. Only she doesn’t turn on us; she faces off with the four men. “If you want those pretty faces of yours to stay pretty,” she tells them, “I would sit back down.”

  I stare at her, mouth open. Maybe she didn’t like the bald man to begin with or maybe she realizes how young we are, but whatever the reason, it’s working to our advantage.

  The rest of Hawk’s crew stands, too, in solidarity with Mary. Mary cracks her knuckles. The four men don’t back down and she throws a side kick at the one closest to her, connecting with his ribs and sending him smashing into the table behind him. And like a scene out of a Western movie, a brawl erupts between Hawk’s crew and the bald man’s crew.

  The whole bar turns to watch the fight, taking the spotlight off me and Ines.

  “You owe us for this job you just cost us,” Hawk growls, nodding at the bald man, and I get a sense that unallied Strategia are just that—unallied. They didn’t work with Ash and me because the risk was too high, and likewise they would have turned us over at the ball because that was their job, but the moment the ball ended, they were independent agents once again.

  Before I can reply, Hawk pulls one of the bald man’s friends off Eddie’s back and punches the guy square in the jaw. Ines offers me her hand and I take it, climbing over the unconscious bald man. We slip out the door and into the alley as the bar begins to attract a crowd. But my relief is short-lived, because as I glance at the Lions’ Den, I realize we have a bigger problem—the tall bouncer has already left.

  INES AND I stand still for a fraction of a second, surveying the street in front of the Lions’ Den, before she starts walking purposefully toward the center of the Market. But I still don�
�t see the bouncer, and considering he stands a good half foot taller than most people here, I’m not convinced I’m missing something.

  “Do you know he went this way?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

  “No,” she says, but doesn’t look at me.

  “So you’re guessing?”

  “I’m guessing,” she says, and panic grips me once again.

  We emerge into the domed Market and I scan the crowd. But the bouncer’s nowhere to be found. I glance at Ines, and even though her expression is unreadable, I can feel the anxiety radiating off her. If we lose him, that’s it. Game over. We will never find the Lion estate or my dad in time.

  I keep scanning the crowd, aware that each moment my eyes aren’t down I risk discovery. Every muscle in my body is tense and I take a forceful breath, willing my posture to relax.

  There at the opposite side of the square, the tall guard emerges from a shop. The relief I feel is so intense that my eyes water. I know Ines sees him, too, because she picks up her pace.

  The tall bouncer exits the Market through an archway, but instead of heading straight for him, Ines leads us through an alternate archway to the left. The moment we exit, the noise diminishes and so does the light. The couple of torches that illuminate the street cast large patches of shadow. About a hundred feet ahead of us the bouncer turns left and we silence our steps. Then, without warning, something grazes my sleeve.

  I whip around, my hand reaching for my knife, only to find Ash, with Aarya just a few steps behind. Even from a quick look I can tell there’s tension between them. I didn’t hear them approach and I have no idea what direction they came from; it gives me an unsettled feeling. We’re all so good at sneaking up on one another that you never know who’s following you.

  As we near the turn where the bouncer disappeared, we slow our pace. Ines peeks around the doorway and Ash surveys the street behind us. They nod at each other and we turn into an abandoned apartment, weaving around a broken table and some chairs. At the far door, Ines peers out, looking both ways and pointing to her right. And so we follow the bouncer, transitioning from the torchlit streets to the pitch-black ones, where he must have stashed an oil lamp, because all of a sudden there is a beacon of light ahead of us. Ash finds my hand with his and I’m grateful for the comforting gesture.

  The guard turns through another doorway, and before Ines can catch up, the light disappears, casting us into complete darkness. Ash pulls me to a stop and we all stand silently still for a couple of awful seconds.

  “I’ll follow,” Ash breathes in a way that suggests we should stay put. He lets go of my hand.

  I don’t dare speak, but as his body heat disappears, my anxiety heightens. I reach out, finding Aarya’s coat sleeve, and grip it like an anchor. But she’s having none of it. She grabs my hand and yanks me forward, placing my palm firmly on the cold stone wall, as if to say “Hold this,” and moves away from me. I want to ask Ash what he’s found, but before I work up the nerve, light reappears inside the archway.

  Ines cautiously peers around the doorway and Aarya pulls out a knife. But whatever Ines sees must be nonthreatening because she walks through with confidence. Aarya and I follow her into what appears to be an abandoned shoemaker’s shop. There are workbenches littered with shoe-shaping tools and shelves showcasing boot designs that I can only guess are hundreds of years old. Ash stands in the center of the forgotten room holding a lit candle, scanning everything with purpose, and it instantly becomes clear why—there is no exit other than the one we just came through, so unless the bouncer vanished into thin air, he must have used a secret door.

  Ines pulls a candle out of her jacket pocket and lights it. It never occurred to me to keep a candle on me, but it’s now obvious that was an oversight—the light from real flame is superior to that from a flashlight and you never have to worry about the batteries failing you at a critical moment.

  In the light provided by the two candles I take closer inventory of the edges of the room, searching for signs of a door. On the far wall Aarya inspects tools that hang from iron hooks, Ines moves to the fireplace, and Ash kneels down, running his finger across the ground.

  “This place is spotless,” he whispers. “Not a boot print on the ground or dust on a bench.” It hadn’t occurred to me, but now that he mentions it, it makes the room seem off. It has none of the grime that the other stores and apartments did. I’m assuming it’s purposeful, that it keeps other Strategia from being able to track the path to the secret door, like footprints in snow.

  “Let’s just hope we can find that door before a Lion pops out of it,” Aarya says, and even though it hadn’t crossed my mind, I’m now very much aware of that threat.

  “I’m surprised you don’t already know where the door is,” Ash says under his breath without so much as glancing at her.

  If I wasn’t sure something was going on between them before, I am now. I head for one end of the shelves of shoes to inspect it while Ash heads for the other end.

  Aarya turns around, eyes wide with offense. “Excusez-moi? I risk my life ten times over to help you two, and this is how you thank me?” she replies, and part of me agrees with her. Why on earth is Ash picking a fight with her right now, of all moments?

  But Ash doesn’t let up. “If you’re going to lie, Aarya, at least try something original. I know you’re better than that rote response.”

  Even in the dim light I can see her cheeks flush, and I’m fairly certain some of her anger comes from being called unoriginal.

  “Fascinating accusation from someone who was working not long ago with Dr. Conner to kill November,” Aarya says, and by the way Ash’s face tenses, I can tell she’s struck a nerve.

  He turns away from the shelf to face her. “Where did you go, Aarya? When November and Ines were in the Market, where were you?”

  “Exactly where I said I would be,” she says, only her voice has lost a little bit of its oomph.

  “No, you most certainly were not,” Ash retorts. “Try again, Aarya. I checked the east side of the Market and you weren’t there.”

  As much as I try to ignore them, I can’t. I glance at Ines, who returns my worried expression.

  Aarya licks her lips, leaning into the fight. “You always think you know what’s going on, that you’re so good at reading everyone. Then tell me this, if you’re such an expert on my tells, why did November understand me better after two weeks at the Academy than you did after two and a half years?”

  “Are you two really having this fight right now?” I ask, anxiety lacing my words. If there was ever a time that we needed solidarity, it’s now.

  “Yes,” Ash says with assurance. “We’re about to do the most dangerous thing any of us has ever done, and I want to be sure that walking into the Lion estate with Aarya doesn’t mean we’re walking into a trap.”

  Anger flashes in Aarya’s eyes and this time she doesn’t bother to hide it. Ines must see it, too, because before Aarya can open her mouth and spew the vitriol we all know is coming, Ines jumps in.

  “Enough,” she says with force. “We most assuredly do not have time for this.” They both open their mouths to respond, but Ines cuts them off. “I don’t care how right you both think you are. All I care about at present is not dying in the labyrinth before we even get to take a shot at Jag.” She gives them a warning look. “Aarya, Ash has every right to question you, because you know as well as all of us that your behavior at times has been suspicious. I’m not saying you need to justify your actions, but you can at least not fan the fire.”

  Aarya stares at her, shocked, and so do I.

  “And, Ash,” Ines continues, “you know Aarya never played by the rules, so why on earth do you expect her to now? Just because she isn’t straightforward like Layla doesn’t mean you should attack her character.” She pauses and no one even tries to speak. “So go ahead, Ash, ask what
you really want to know, and then both of you get over yourselves and get back to work.”

  A stunned silence falls over the room.

  And after a few moments of considering her offer, Ash says, “Why are you two really here?”

  Ines sighs, like she knew this was coming. “I can only answer for myself—”

  “Ines, you don’t have to—” Aarya starts, clearly feeling guilty that Ines is revealing something personal because of her.

  “I do,” Ines says to Aarya, before turning to me and Ash. “My parents had a high standing in the Fox Family; they did a great deal of advising for the head family and helped them govern. And they hated Jag—they believed he was single-handedly dishonoring the legacy of Strategia, tarnishing the good we had done over the centuries. For years they spoke out against him, trying to get the Foxes to take a stand like the Bears had.” She nods in my direction. “But their warnings were ignored. Then the Lions began targeting talented members of other Families, and my parents fought harder; they had foresight—they argued that the Lions’ actions would eventually spill over onto the children, and onto the Academy.” She takes a breath. “But as you all know, Jag seeks vengeance on those who speak against him, and my family, even with their high standing, were no exception.”

  My chest tightens with worry at this all-too-familiar story.

  “I was seven years old at the time,” Ines continues, “and they drugged me with Angels’ Dream.” She glances at me for a brief second. “When I woke up in the morning, my parents and older sister had been murdered in their beds. The Lions kept me alive as a reminder to my Family of what happens when you speak out against Jag.”