Lorel backed away and checked both ends of the alley before making a running leap to the roof. She succeeded in catching hold of the roofline on the first try.
“Show off.”
“Hush, kid. They’re coming.” She swung herself up to the roof like she did it all the time. For all he knew, she did. Was Lorel a window burglar?
He’d worry about that later, maybe on the day the city guards hauled her away. He had enough problems at the moment.
Keeping flat against the slippery tiles, Viper scuttled to the far side of the roof and hid behind a chimney. He fought to steady his wheezy lungs. The last thing he needed was for the gang to notice him perched up here.
Now, where was he?
Praise the Thunderer. The pine tree had chosen the perfect place for an ambush. The gaudy door with its unforgettable archway was directly in front of him.
Unfortunately, so was a fair crowd of people. Old men walked arm in arm with scantily dressed youngsters. Five, six, seven couples, and two trios who looked drunk.
Blast. He hadn’t planned on so many witnesses. He hadn’t expected anyone to be on the street this late at night.
Footsteps trotted toward them. Lightning strike it. The gang wouldn’t act in front of witnesses. His plans were ruined.
Wasn’t there anything he could do to scare off the crowd? An illusion of a bahtdor? No, someone would scream. Of a City Guard patrol? No, these rich people wouldn’t care.
He had to do something, but what?
Lorel’s melodramatic whisper echoed along the quiet street. “Get inside, Charlotte! That’s Weaver’s priests headed this way.”
All of the strollers dashed into the nearest doorways.
Viper blinked at the empty street. He’d never thought of Weaver’s priests as scary. They’d always been friendly and polite.
Obviously Lorel knew something he didn’t. He nodded to her when she settled in beside him.
She grinned and shrugged. Conceited turybird.
But like she’d said, it was his turn to have some fun. He sucked in a deep breath and stared hard at the street below.
A cold breeze shivered up his spine. His wet clothing chafed against his skin. His lungs gasped for air, his muscles cramped, his eyes crossed.
His concentration broke.
Blast. The gang would show up any second. He gritted his teeth and refocused his will.
Stone by stone, shadow by shadow, he rebuilt the street inside his mind.
The buildings and alleys across the street appeared to slide to one side, so that the dimly-lit doorways glimmered several feet from where they’d been only a moment before.
Lorel gasped.
The gang jogged around the corner. Thunderer’s dice, he’d timed that close. He still hadn’t had a chance to catch his breath.
The boys below were breathing harder than he was. If they were as tired as they looked, he had a good chance of making his plan work. He prayed they didn’t notice that the angle of their shadows didn’t match the lanterns.
Growling like a pack of dire wolves, the gang spread out to search the area. Light from the doorways lit the area just enough to reveal their faces. Fish trotted eagerly from doorway to doorway, with Squirrel and Roach close on his heels. Raven and Blizzard dashed in and out of alleys. Most of the others raced up and down the street, checking places where not even a mouse could hide.
Viper hated how easily he could tell them apart. And how hard it was to look at them directly.
He wasn’t supposed to look at them at all. He needed to concentrate until the illusion firmed up, or he wouldn’t be able to move on to the next step of his plan.
Jorjan strutted to the middle of the street and watched the others search. “Damn the Weaver, he can’t have gotten far, I heard his footsteps stop.” His face twisted with anticipation and annoyance.
Viper shuddered. He’d seen that look before. Never wanted to see it again. Only Lorel’s quiet breathing behind him kept him from fleeing across the rooftops. He fought to concentrate on the first illusion.
Kraken strolled into the street and glanced around. “Have I missed any action yet?”
The calm, almost indifferent expression on the pocked face nearly shook Viper out of his trace. He focused on the street below and concentrated with all his will. The monster couldn’t reach him. Not up here. Lorel would protect him.
Jorjan laughed. “We lost him. But he can’t be far. I want that pretty golden boy, gentlemen. I plan to enjoy myself most thoroughly tonight.”
That was a decent signal to start the second illusion. Viper closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. He lowered his chin, gritted his teeth, and stared hard into the alley below their rooftop.
A blond boy wearing a soggy teal jacket dashed out the shadows and sprinted toward the brightest doorway.
Lorel leaned forward and stared at the boy. She glanced aside at Viper. “His hair’s too pale. And he’s too tall. But the coat’s perfect. Where’d you find him?”
“Hush, turybird, I’m busy.”
Jorjan pointed. “There. Grab him.” He threw his hands up. “Weaver crush the Loom! Don’t let him get into the Club. Herd him into the alley.”
Kraken rushed at the fleeing boy and headed him off. The boy swung to the left and raced forward.
Viper shuddered, swallowed hard, and forced his will to hold steady. Forced the illusion to stay just ahead of Kraken’s reaching hands.
Roaring like bahtdor on the trail of a bloodied deer, the gang followed Kraken, but none of dared to pass him. None of them tried to lay a hand on the boy, even when he scuttled past them.
Viper understood that reaction. Nobody crossed Kraken twice. Nobody would survive stealing his prey.
He still didn’t understand how he’d survived being that prey, for all the magic the healer had spent on him. But he couldn’t think about that now. He needed to concentrate on holding the illusion.
The boy sprinted toward the dark alley alongside the gaudy doorway. Kraken raced after him, closely followed by the rest of the gang. Jorjan loped a few steps to the rear.
Closer and closer to the mouth of the alley. Would they see through the illusions? Would they turn away?
The boy darted into the alley. The gang hurtled after him.
Yes! The trap was sprung. Viper released his will. Darkness dissolved into a gold and red door.
A door?
The blasted door was closed! The warriors inside would never know they’d been invaded. They’d never react.
The gang would never be punished.
Red burst through his vision. The gang must be punished. They. Must. Be.
He willed the door to open.
Flames surged up his spine. Ice crackled inside his brain. Lightning soared through his blood.
The door crashed against the inner wall.
Kraken froze inches in front of the doorway. Raven pummeled into him, knocking him inside. Roach splatted against Fish, and the rest of the gang slammed into them, over them, until the entryway floor was covered with writhing bodies.
Viper gasped for air. Sweat poured down his face. His lungs burned as he’d been running in person, rather than in illusion.
Lightning-blasted Jorjan managed to stay on his feet, but he was in clear view from the rooftop. And Viper desperately wanted to see what happened next. Had they guessed right? Or would the men inside the secret doorway forgive the invasion?
“Altrada’s bones.” Jorjan stood up straight in the entryway and saluted. “Good evening, father, sir.”
“How dare you charge in here like wild beasts!” a deep voice shouted.
Lorel snickered.
The gang struggled to crawl off each other, to climb to their feet. Kraken elbowed Fish, who fell and knocked down Raven. Wolf scuttled sideways on his hands and knees.
Lorel gurgled like she was drowning.
Viper wiped sweat off his face with both hands. He fumbled with the buttons on his sodden jacket. When had the night go
tten so warm?
“I told you that you were NEVER to come here. Being the sons of officers does NOT give you the right to barge in as though your pants would burst. You’ll be doing slave labor for the next three lunars, I swear it.”
Lorel giggled and rubbed her chin.
“Sergeant, fetch my whip. I’m of a mind to flog these ruffians to remind them to obey their betters. Take off your shirts. NOW.”
The street was so quiet he could hear a bat flutter down the next alley. Viper clamped both hands over his mouth. It would spoil everything if they heard him giggle. Not to mention it might get them both killed.
Lorel sprawled on the roof and laughed soundlessly.
Crack.
YELP.
His every muffled gasp burned like lightning striking from his chest out his toes. He didn’t care. Never again would Jorjan haunt his nightmares. This perfect revenge would destroy those vulture dreams.
Crack.
YELP.
Lorel peeked over the edge. “What did you do to them?”
He snickered and fought down another round of laughter. “I created an illusion of everything moved to one side, so the doorway looked like the alley.”
“It sure looked weird. Like the whole street was moving. Where did the boy go?”
Crack. Crack. YELP.
“There wasn’t a boy, just another illusion.” Viper scratched the top of his head. How’d he get spider feet in his hair?
“Fraying magic stuff.” Lorel stretched her arms wide. Her spine popped in a long flourish of drumbeats. “I thought you was gonna piss yourself when I tossed you up to the roof.”
“I nearly did.” He’d have been a lot less upset if she’d actually tossed him to the roof, instead of at it. “You scared me worse than Jorjan had. Why’d you try and throw me up here, turybird?”
Crack. YELP.
“ ’Cuz there was no easy way to get you up here.”
“You knew before we– ?” He’d told her he wanted to camp out on top of a building. They’d even agreed on which building. But he’d planned to put himself up here. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“I didn’t wanna scare you.”
Viper glared at her, but shook his head. It wasn’t worth fighting over. “Let’s go home. We’ll have a lot to tell Faye in the morning.”
Lorel snickered and jumped down from the rooftop. “I wish I could have seen Jorjan’s face.”
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.
It must be Kraken’s turn. With any luck, he’d be laid up for a while, not just eviler than ever. With even more luck, the voice really would sentence the whole gang to hard labor until they forgot who’d they’d been chasing.
He climbed down the wall as easily as he’d climbed down cliffs in Setoya. Praise the Thunderer, he hadn’t lost the skill even without any practice. It would be so embarrassing to fall with Lorel watching him. “I’d settle for seeing the welts.”
Crack. YELP.
Lorel jerked her chin toward the street. “You gotta settle for hearing him squeal.”
Viper nodded, but somehow his revenge wasn’t as magnificent as he’d hoped it would be.
˜™
He woke up, late that night, shaking and sweating. His heart pounded and fear dried his tongue. Tears slid into his ears. He felt like he’d been running for hours.
In the dream, he had been running for hours. The gang was closing in.
Viper turned onto his side and punched his pillow. He knew why his revenge felt empty.
Vulture dreams cared nothing for vengeance. Especially when Jorjan could still send the gang after him.
Especially when Kraken wasn’t leaving town.
His thread was so frayed.
Chapter 34.
The sun was just thinking about rising when Lorel stalked back into Trevor’s front yard and up the wobbly steps. She tested the front door knob. Locked for a change. Not surprising, really. Old Trevor wasn’t stupid, and the kid trailed trouble after him like baby soldiers after their sergeant.
How was she gonna get the kid’s attention without alerting the whole neighborhood? Trevor was pretty hard to wake, but his neighbors kept a good watch on the place.
She’d try the backdoor. The kid probably forgot to lock it last night. This morning. Whenever she’d finally got him home.
Good thing she hadn’t bothered to go home herself. The toad would’ve gotten clean away if she had.
The gate into the backyard was locked, of course. She’d never seen it open. Did Trevor think a lock would stop the kid? Nah. More likely he’d lost the key and never bothered to replace it.
The fence weren’t but a foot taller than her outstretched hands. She hopped up to catch the top of the boards.
Her fingers slid down mossy wood. That was weird. She didn’t feel tired.
She jumped harder. Her fingers barely caught on the top of the boards, but she wiggled higher and squirmed over the top of the fence. Her boots landed in a prickly bush, but she shook off the clingy leaves and trotted toward the backdoor.
Her toe caught on a tree root. At least, she thought it was a root. It felt too solid to be a snake. She paused to wiggle her boot free. Snip her thread, it was dark back here. All of them plants must block the sunlight. What little light there oughtta be this early in the morning.
They had to be in position before full dawn. She had to get moving.
Her boot sunk ankle deep into the moist soil. “Bitter blood,” she muttered. “I thought the kid said he’d cleaned the yard.” Not that a barbarian would know anything about gardening. His idea of cleaning probably meant sweeping leaves off the paths.
She worked her foot free of the hole, and promptly tripped over a twisty vine. The fraying plant seemed to wrap itself around her ankle.
She tried to yank her boot loose, but the vine held tight. “This place needs serious work.” She kicked at the stupid plant. “Let go.”
The vine seemed to wrap itself tighter. That couldn’t be. Plants didn’t act like that. She’d been listening to the kid too much.
Or not listening enough. Fraying magic stuff.
“Trevor, I got stuff I gotta do. I swear I’ll come gardening for you one of these days. Now leave me alone.”
Leaves rustled, and the vine’s grip loosened. Lorel eased her foot free. Thread-snipping magic stuff.
She crept along the back of the house, carefully stepping over holes and around plants, until she reached the backdoor. Locked.
Weaver’s chamberpot. At least the kid paid some attention to security now, after all the times she’d lectured him. Maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut.
How was she gonna get to him? His bedroom was only on the second floor, but she didn’t want to scale the side of the building. The girls on the far side of the fence kept too close watch on his window.
They sorta watched the yard, too, but Trevor was pretty boring. And he never came out here this early. They wouldn’t bother her if she didn’t get too noisy.
She hiked into the yard until she could see the kid’s window.
Crushed mint and mallow drifted to her nose. She hoped she hadn’t mashed the old man’s favorite herbs. No time to worry about it though. He could yell at her later.
How was she gonna catch the kid’s attention? She didn’t dare feel under the leaves for a rock. Nothing was worse than picking up a slimy slug or a warty toad. Well, maybe a magical toad might be worse.
But she had a real toad to roast. This called for a sacrifice.
She plucked a cherry pit out of her pocket and tossed it at the kid’s window. It pinged against the glass and dropped to the ground.
After waiting as long as she could stand it, she pulled another pit from her pocket and lobbed it at the kid’s window.
Glass pinged. Leaves rustled when the pit thudded to the ground. Could she rescue the pit later? Or not. It might grow into a tree here in Trevor’s garden.
Where on the Loom was the kid?
She pitc
hed a third pit.
The glass clinked and crackled. A spiderweb of cracks latticed the window pane. Trevor was gonna snip her thread. If he found out. Maybe he’d blame the cracked window on a bird.
What was with the kid? Could he sleep through an earthquake? She might need to break into the house and haul him out of bed herself.
Finally the window swung open and a honey-blonde mop poked out. “Go away!”
“Hush up, kid. You want them girls laughing at you?”
“Lightning strike you.” At least he’d lowered his voice this time, even if he did cuss at her. “Go away. I’ve had maybe two hours of sleep.”
“I ain’t slept none.” Like sleep mattered at a time like this. “Jorjan’s leaving at dawn.”
The kid looked up at the dark pink clouds, frowned, and slammed the window closed.
Glass tinkled to the ground. Weaver’s chamberpot. No hiding that. Would the kid stop to board up the window? She’d have to kill him if he did.
But the kid was safe. He opened the backdoor and waved one hand at her.
When she got inside, she gulped back a laugh.
He wore only a pair of trousers, yesterday’s, from the mud on them, and he was struggling into a green-slimed shirt. He was such a scrawny little thing. The hungry babies in Slaughterhouse Square had more meat on their ribs. Maybe she should invite him home for meals sometimes. But that meant he’d meet her miswoven brothers.
“Quit staring at me.” The kid started buttoning up his shirt, one buttonhole off center.
She knocked his hands away, refastened the first button, and finished up the rest. Wouldn’t do to have people staring at him. The slimy shirt was bad enough.
The kid slid on clean socks and grabbed a newish – and dry – jacket off the table. “My shoes are at the front door.”
She snatched the lumpy coat out of his hands. Nothing in the outside pockets. But he’d hidden something inside. More pockets, hand-stitched on.
He dashed around the table and yanked the jacket out of her hands. It tumbled upside down to the floor.
Two bone saikeris clattered across the tiles.
Lorel raised both eyebrows. “I didn’t think you’d have the guts to bring your fork thingies.” She wished she’d had the guts to bring her swords.
Illusion's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 1) Page 29
