Thirteen Orphans

by Jane Lindskold

  Pearl shook her head as if she could physically clear a thought, then sipped her tea to give herself time to consider.

  “Brenda, you arranged a delay with the Snake?”

  “I did. I mean, I had to, didn’t I?”

  “Then we must think how to use this to our advantage. When he has not been studying or making amulet bracelets, Riprap has been following through on his plan to see if he can find where the Dragon and the Snake are staying. If we could find where they are living, then I think we could use this.”

  “Is Riprap having any luck?”

  “Only in the negative. We are fairly certain that our enemies do not have access to the type of electronic credit they would need for a major hotel. The current rash of fear regarding identity theft proved extremely useful in testing that. In some cases, where Des or I had a strong contact with one of the vulnerable nine, we simply called and told them to check for unexpected charges—especially coming out of this area. We spun a good yarn about a scam we’d learned about.

  “In other cases, Riprap simply called and posed as an independent auditor for major credit holders. He was adamant about not wanting to know any details about any accounts, simply requesting that they review their accounts and let him call them back. Again, he used the story that someone was making the charges in northern California.”

  “And it worked?”

  “Riprap can sound very convincing, and I helped him with his script. Since he told those he called that he did not want any identifying information, not even the type of card or cards they held, they were inclined to go along with it.”

  “I guess I would,” Brenda admitted. “I mean, I’d worry.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So probably they’re not staying at a major hotel—or even a minor one.”

  “That’s right. Most will insist on a credit card in case you use the phone or do something that will run up charges. You can still pay in cash if you want, but they’re going to protect their interests in advance.”

  “How are you handling the less fine establishments?” Brenda asked.

  “Des and Riprap have done some drive-by snooping. Depending on the place and its tone, they ask questions. Des uses a touch of magic—nothing too powerful, just looking for signs that someone else is or has been using magic in the area. Again, we’ve come up with nothing. Nissa has been tracking down less formal rental options. She represents herself as a student, hoping to rent a room or a suite for a week or two.”

  Brenda nodded. “Seems hopeless. Maybe we should give in to the Snake, give her Foster’s memory, and then do our best to learn from Dad—if we get him back—if he knows anything.”

  Pearl kept her tone gentle, hearing despair in Brenda’s voice. “He probably wouldn’t. I think the Snake would make sure of that.”

  “Yeah.” Brenda rose and carefully set Amala on her chair. The cat curled into a ball, taking advantage of the warm spot. “I think we’d better fill the others in. Should I get them?”

  Pearl nodded. “Nissa should be done putting Lani to bed, and I decreed a moratorium on any amulet crafting after dinner. Riprap in particular seems to have forgotten that absolute concentration is necessary to incorporate the spells correctly. The amulets cannot be churned out in a production line.”

  “He’s scared, Pearl,” Brenda said. “So am I.”

  “So am I, my dear,” Pearl said softly. “More than you know, so am I.”

  24

  “It seems to me,” Des said after Brenda had finished her report and their small group had briefly discussed how they might take advantage of the situation, “that the Snake tried to hypnotize Brenda into keeping this matter to herself. Hypnotism is a traditional power of the snake, but the Snake would not have known that Brenda is at least a little bit the Rat, and so has the power to resist.”

  “Resist because she is a little the Rat,” Riprap asked, “or because she’s a little one of the Twelve?”

  “The Rat specifically,” Des said. “Although all the Twelve would have more ability to resist than would the average person, the Rat has even greater ability. Birds,” he gave a deprecating little shrug, “are the most vulnerable, as are those who are ruled by emotion. The Rat is among the most intellectual and calculating of the Earthly Branches.”

  Brenda forced a grin. “If the Snake thinks I’m head over heels for Foster, not to mention a wreck because my dad is messed up, well, then she probably has every reason to think I’m ruled by my emotions.”

  And who’s to say I’m not? I came close enough to giving in. I should have told someone right away about what happened, but instead I wanted Foster to keep quiet, and nearly didn’t confide in anyone. If Pearl wasn’t “Auntie,” if I’d felt resentful of the others—maybe because they were “real” members of the group and me just a hanger-on —I could have fallen so easily.

  Those thoughts were still vivid in Brenda’s mind when she walked out the door four days later, Foster beside her, car keys dangling from one hand, a duffel bag that sagged heavily from the other. The garage was empty except for the little sedan Pearl had rented when relying on the chauffeur-driven town car was clearly not enough for her expanded household’s needs.

  If anyone had been watching earlier that morning, they would have seen Hastings drive Pearl, Nissa, and Lani off at about eight o’clock. They would have seen Riprap and Des, both dressed in running clothes, jog off a little later, heading in the direction of a small strip-mall gym.

  We’re the last, Brenda thought, glancing at her watch. It was approaching nine o’clock, the start of the Double Hour of the Snake. Pearl predicted the Snake would pick this time. I hope she’s as right in the rest of her suppositions.

  So many of their plans had needed to be based on guesswork. If even one of those guesses was incorrect, so much could go wrong. Brenda stashed the duffel in the backseat, then got into the driver’s seat and slid the key in the ignition.

  “Buckle up,” she reminded Foster.

  After all, she thought, uncomfortably aware of the hard, round crystal sphere that held his memory pressing against her hip where she’d stuffed it into her jean’s pocket, it would be a shame to lose you to a traffic accident when you’re closer than you know to getting back everything you want.

  Foster snapped the belt into place.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I was thinking.”

  He spoke English, his accent on that particular phrase an unwitting mimicry of Des, who said it so often it had become a joke.

  “Well,” Brenda said. “You’ve had a lot to think about lately, haven’t you?”

  She backed the sedan out onto the side street, checking carefully for oncoming traffic. The Rosicrucian Museum didn’t come close to having enough parking, given the popularity of its gardens, exhibits, and lectures. The already narrow side streets were further narrowed by parked cars, and in her few weeks’ residence, Brenda had learned from a few terrifying encounters that any moment might bring a confused tourist barreling along far more rapidly than was wise.

  Once they were out on the wider streets, Brenda reached up and touched the red ribbon in her hair. A tingle of déjà vu ran through her fingertips as she did so. This was the second time she had worn that unaccustomed ornament. Two days ago had been the first, when she’d gone out to signal to the Snake that she was ready to make a deal.

  That time they hadn’t seen the Snake. Instead, Brenda’s cell phone had rung after they’d strolled a couple of blocks from Pearl’s house.

  Clipped and sounding, so Brenda thought, a touch nervous, the Snake had said, “Ready to deal, then.”

  “That’s right,” Brenda said, glancing over at Foster. He showed no interest in her call, having grown accustomed to the phone ringing at odd times, since Brenda’s mom and friends regularly called to chat.

  “Fine. Two days from now. Nine o’ clock in the morning. Go to …” The Snake named a big shopping center Brenda was already familiar with. “Go to the shop that sells teaching toys
: Bright Futures is its name.”

  “You’ll be there?” Brenda asked. “Are they open that early?”

  “They are. Go there. Come alone, except for Foster. Understand?”

  The connection was cut off. Brenda sighed and slid the phone back into its holster. Foster continued walking, oblivious of the fact that Brenda was now “back.” He’d been distracted since their encounter with the Snake, as if drawn into what fragmentary memory he possessed, trying to draw lines between the dots and come up with at least an outline of who he was.

  Today, as then, Brenda longed to reach out and touch Foster, even if just to stroke his hair as she might have done with one of her brothers—before they’d reached they age when they’d get indignant about such “soft” stuff. But her feelings about Foster were too unruly, too uncertainly certain. She didn’t dare.

  Occupied as she was with her thoughts, Brenda almost missed the turn into the mall. Her head was hammering with the beat of her pulse and her palms were sweaty as she parked the car. Foster looked at their surroundings with some interest.

  “I didn’t know we were coming here,” he said, and there was apology for his distraction in his voice.

  Brenda had already thought of a reason. “Nissa and I thought Lani might need cheering up after today’s screen test. Pearl has tried to explain that winning a screen role is not as certain as Lani seems to think. I guess she’s been read too many stories where, despite the odds, the plucky little girl gets picked for the team or the club or whatever.”

  Foster understood about screen tests. They had been a major topic of conversation of late, ever since Pearl’s agent had surprised them all by lining up several opportunities for Lani. Foster smiled now, his fondness for the little girl pushing away his moody abstraction. He spoke in Chinese, evidence that he was eager to communicate something more complex than his English could manage.

  “Everyone is the hero of his own story, I think. Lani is small, but she is no different. So we will get her something, so she will not be too sad. That’s a good idea.”

  “And maybe,” Brenda said, forcing herself to sound cheerful, “Lani won’t have reason to be sad.”

  But she will, Brenda thought, her heart giving an aching twist, because even if everything goes perfectly right, the Foster who has been her friend, her playmate, will have vanished. Instead there will be a stranger, Flying Claw, the Tiger.

  Brenda forced herself not to think about that. The Snake was likely watching, whether in person or through some spell. Foster had brightened in anticipation of shopping for a treat for Lani, and he walked beside Brenda commenting on the weather, what their budget was for the gift, and similar trivialities. Brenda managed to keep up with his chatter, not wanting him to think she was being quiet because he’d annoyed her with his former withdrawn mood.

  Only minutes left, Brenda thought. Just a few more minutes. Then he’ll be gone … .

  When they entered Bright Futures, Brenda glanced around for any sign of the Snake. There were two clerks: an older woman whom Brenda knew from past conversations was a retired grammar-school teacher, and a young man with “summer help” all but tattooed across his broad shoulders. He was helping a round-faced Hispanic woman with something at the register, while the former teacher assisted a tired-looking balding man who was looking with mild embarrassment at an array of dolls.

  Brenda nodded to the former teacher, following Foster as he made a beeline to the section he already knew had toys appropriate for a child of Lani’s age. Brenda was just passing the register when the phone at the checkout counter rang. The male clerk answered it, looked mildly confused, then glanced over at Brenda.

  “Would your name be Brenda Morris?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have a call for you.”

  Brenda took the phone, and heard the Snake’s voice. “Go from that store to this park.”

  Honey Dream gave directions, and Brenda knew the place immediately. It was much like the park in which they’d first encountered the Snake, but more isolated, screened by trees that had grown thick with time and neglect. It was a perfect place not to be noticed.

  “Bring Foster,” the Snake continued, “but no one else. Be there by nine thirty.”

  Brenda glanced at her watch. She could manage, even if they stopped long enough to buy something for Lani.

  “Right,” she said, but the connection had already gone dead.

  Brenda handed the phone back to the clerk. “Sorry to bother you. Someone wanted to reach me, and my cell phone wasn’t picking up. They knew I was coming here … .”

  She shrugged and the clerk grinned in understanding. “My phone was always doing that until I got some really good batteries. The ones they give you with the phones are crap.”

  Brenda nodded, thanked him again, and went after Foster. As she did so, she pulled out her phone and punched various buttons. It was working fine. The Snake must have wanted to confirm that Brenda was where she was, when she had said she would be there. Interesting. That might indicate that the Snake’s resources were stretched, perhaps preparing something against Brenda and Foster’s arrival. It might also indicate that the Snake didn’t want to do anything magical that would attract her father’s attention.

  And it might mean nothing at all, Brenda reminded herself.

  Foster was holding two different counting and alphabet games, one in each hand, trying to figure out what made one better than the other, handicapped by his inability to read the glowing reviews printed on the packaging.

  “That was Nissa,” Brenda half lied. “She reminded me that Lani had been particularly interested in this game …” She tapped one box. “ … last time we were here.”

  Foster nodded, replying in Chinese. “I thought so. I could not be sure. I wish that Pearl could make me read English as she made you understand my speech.”

  “Soon you’ll be so good,” Brenda decided not to say at what, “that it won’t matter. Shall we get this one?”

  Foster put down the rejected game and led the way to the checkout counter. Brenda paid, and tried to sound casual as they walked back to the car.

  “There’s a nice park not too far from here. Want to go for a walk before we head back?”

  Foster agreed readily. Brenda had thought he’d get tired of their walks, but he never seemed to do so.

  Maybe he’s making up for all that time he spent under “house arrest.” Maybe his body remembers what his mind doesn’t—that he had to have lived a pretty active life before we got ahold of him. Those muscles didn’t come from sitting around and being fed chocolates by pretty girls. I wonder if he’ll miss chocolate? Do they even have it in the Lands?

  Brenda realized she had lagged behind when Foster reached out and caught her hand in his.

  “Come on!” he said in English, then switched to Chinese. “Worrying won’t help Lani on her screen test, and you’re prettiest when you smile.”

  Brenda thought about pulling her hand away, but squeezed his in return.

  Last chance. Why not enjoy it? And if the Snake’s watching, I bet her cold heart is burning hot as fire!

  “Lani will be fine,” Pearl promised Nissa, as they got back into the car after dropping the girl off with one of Pearl’s professional contacts—a hairdresser and makeup artist who doubled as a sort of stage mother. “We couldn’t leave Lani at the house, not even with the gardener. Besides, you need some films to show Bob the Pharmacist, right?”

  “But …”

  “Don’t worry. Lani’s a good girl, and quite capable. Joanne will watch out for her—and take it from me, sometimes it’s easier to perform your best when your mama isn’t watching.”

  Nissa bowed her head, her luminous turquoise eyes shut, her features composing into resignation. Pearl leaned forward and spoke to the driver.

  “Take us to the edge of Japantown, Hastings.” She gave him a street address, heard his acknowledging “Yes, madam,” and slid the privacy panel shut.

  “You’re r
ight, Pearl.” Nissa straightened against the leather upholstery, squaring her shoulders. “Besides, if we don’t deal with these distant relations of ours, whether or not Lani has her mother’s hand to hold this morning won’t matter much.”

  Pearl was startled. “Distant relations? Is that how you think of them?”

  “Sure. Isn’t that what they are?”

  Pearl pursed her lips. “Rivals rather.”

  “But you said you knew who Foster must be because he looked like your father. That argues he’s a relative.”

  “Or that I’m so twisted,” Pearl said, not caring to admit she had thought the same thing, “that I see my father in every handsome young man of a certain type.”

  Nissa gave Pearl a sideways glance that said more eloquently than any words that she wasn’t going to argue the point. Instead, she looked at the passing view through the tinted window.

  “I’m impressed that Riprap tracked down where the Snake and the Dragon are staying. Do you think they will have gotten wind of us?”

  “I don’t think so,” Pearl said. “We’ve told no one what we’ve learned, and I don’t think their ability to spy extends to inside my house. We’ve arranged to meet as indirectly as possible, so that no curiosity should be aroused.”

  “And will Brenda be all right?”

  “That is a good question,” Pearl said. “She agreed to turn over Foster and his memory. She has agreed to let them ‘take back’ Gaheris’s crystal if that is necessary. Thus far both the Snake and the Dragon have taken care not to do physical harm.”

  “Except when the Snake came after Brenda with that dagger,” Nissa reminded her.

  “She was panicked and trapped,” Pearl said with more confidence than she felt. “In this situation, Brenda should be completely nonthreatening. And, in any case, we’ve loaded Brenda with enough protective amulets that she could probably walk across a highway at rush hour and not get hit.”