Master and Apprentice

by Bateman, Sonya

  Ian shook his head. “They are Morai.”

  “No.” My automatic denial didn’t stop the horror of acceptance that lodged in my chest. Impossible as it was, nothing else made sense. “Uh-uh. The Morai can’t breed. If they could, they would’ve created an army by now. Take over the world, reign of terror and age of darkness, shit like that. Besides, they just looked like regular humans. How could you know they’re Morai?”

  The minute I asked, I decided against wanting to know. He told me anyway.

  “I have tasted Morai blood before.” His gaze flicked down to his gore-streaked torso. “However, they are … wrong. Tainted. I cannot determine why at the moment.”

  “Maybe they’re inbred,” I muttered. From what I’d heard, the Morai had a tendency to breed like rabbits back home just to increase their numbers—and any fertile female had been fair game, whether she liked it or not. Especially since female djinn could reproduce only once every three hundred years.

  A frown creased Ian’s forehead. “Perhaps,” he said, sounding less than convinced. “We must move. They may attempt to give chase.”

  “Ya think?”

  He shot me a sharp look. I decided to shut up.

  We headed farther into the woods, me limping, him ambling like a reluctant zombie. I tried to listen for signs of pursuit, but our loud, clumsy progress drowned out any chance of staying undetected. I tried to guess how far it’d be to the town on the other side. My estimate wasn’t encouraging. This stretch of trees had looked at least ten times as big as the cluster of buildings beyond. They’d catch up to us in no time.

  At least Ian didn’t have his tether on him, so they couldn’t kill him right away. I enjoyed no such guarantees for survival.

  I figured we must’ve walked halfway to China, but the damned forest refused to end. Still no sign of our pursuers who couldn’t possibly exist. I was dying to know how the Morai had managed to produce descendants, since I only had Ian’s word that they were sterile—and he’d lied to me before. Too many times to count. But I didn’t think he had a clue this time. He’d seemed just as stunned as me.

  We’d have to find someone who did know. Eventually. When we weren’t limping for our lives.

  I stared ahead at the ocean of nature and tried willing it to become civilization. Nature ignored me. But I did glimpse something in the distance that probably shouldn’t have been in the woods. I nudged Ian and pointed. “Is that a pay phone mounted on a tree?”

  Ian followed my gesture. “It appears to be.”

  “Great. Maybe we can call for a cab.”

  “You are joking.” Ian glanced at me. “Aren’t you?”

  “Mostly.” I moved toward the thing and wondered if it was somehow related to the Hillbilly Brothers back there. But I doubted it. The idea of a booby-trapped pay phone was a stretch even for the Morai. Besides, they hadn’t expected to find us out here. They were looking for their recently exploded kin.

  The metal case was a scratch-and-dent model, worn by time and what looked like the claws of large animals. The peeling, unidentifiable remains of a phone company logo clung to the outside. Inside, there was no phone, only a sturdy plastic utility box, held shut with a thick and rusted steel padlock.

  The presence of this contraption in the middle of a wild, mountainous forest unsettled me. It was like digging up a dinosaur skeleton and finding a Rolex on its wrist.

  Curiosity overcame my misgivings. I’d have no problem picking the lock. Despite my retirement from thieving, I’d kept my legally questionable skills as sharp as possible. Never knew when it would come in handy to open a lock, or hot-wire a car, or disable an alarm. I patted my pockets for a tool.

  “Donatti.”

  Warning edged Ian’s voice. I waved a hand in his general direction. “Know what I’m doing,” I muttered. “Don’t worry. I won’t blow us up.”

  “Damn you, thief. Look.”

  I looked. At first I couldn’t tell what his problem was. Finally I realized that the strip of green about a hundred feet ahead wasn’t more trees. It was a moss-covered stone wall, and beyond it stood a house. Not a rustic cabin, but a sturdy and sizable stone structure. Practically a castle. And from the soft light glowing in two of the upper windows, it appeared to be currently inhabited.

  “Crud.” I shifted reflexively to invisible, noting that even that simple trick caused more pain than it should have. I still hadn’t recovered from my aborted midair braking. “They couldn’t have passed us,” I said. “Think there’s more of them?”

  “One might presume the possibility.” Ian had disappeared too. His voice came from directly behind me. “We should investigate the situation.”

  I shook my head, forgetting that he couldn’t see the motion. “You’re crazy. We’re both tapped. If there’s anybody in there with more power than a twenty-watt lightbulb, we’re dead. What if their leader is here—Val, or whatever his name was?”

  “That is what I am hoping to find.”

  “No. Forget it, Ian.” Again, I flashed back to the cave-dwelling Morai’s warning: Die in service to your master’s madness. Not going to happen. “I’m human, remember? You’re safe as long as they can’t get your tether. I’m not.”

  Ian sighed. “I am not fool enough to take on another djinn at this point. I simply want to ascertain whether this Val is here, so we can return in the future.”

  “What if we get caught?”

  “We will not.”

  “And you’re so sure about this because … ?”

  There was a long pause before he said, “Are you not a professional thief ?”

  “No, I am not,” I drawled. “I’m retired.”

  “So you are afraid, then.”

  “Don’t do that.” He was getting to me again, the bastard.

  Impugning what little sense of honor I had left. “Look, we know where the place is. More or less. Can’t we just go home and have Akila scry the place, find out whether there’s a Morai in there?”

  “Why should I subject her to the effort when we are already here?” I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Once we are inside the structure, I will be able to sense another djinn, if there is one present. And then we will leave.”

  I groaned. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. I can’t rescue you this time.”

  “Agreed.” His tone implied exactly what I could do with the idea that he’d need rescuing.

  “Fine. Let’s go.”

  I turned and started toward the wall. When Ian didn’t seem to be moving, I said, “Are you coming, or is this supposed to be a solo venture?”

  “Yes.” Pine needles crackled beneath his unseen feet. “And we had better move quickly.”

  “Why?”

  “They are coming back.”

  I didn’t need to ask who they were.

  Chapter 5

  We stopped when we reached the stone wall—at least, I did. I hoped Ian hadn’t just charged on ahead. “You still here?” I half-whispered.

  “No. I have gone to Starbucks.”

  “Now’s a great time to develop sarcasm,” I shot back. “Any idea how close they are?”

  “Close enough.”

  “Well, that’s helpful.” I looked over the grounds for any sign of movement, and saw none. “We need a plan. We won’t be able to talk to each other in there. So … how long, and where are we going to meet?”

  “Fifteen minutes. And there, by that statue.”

  “What statue?”

  “To your right.”

  I looked. At the far corner of the wall stood St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes. I knew because this guy had been a big deal at the Catholic orphanage where I spent most of my childhood. That’s what we all were, lost causes—especially me, as the nuns reminded me daily. I had to wonder why a bunch of half-Morai thugs would want St. Jude hanging around.

  Movement near the building caught my eye. A man in a dusky black robe emerged from a stand of trees at the corner of the walled property and h
eaded for the building. Two more followed, dressed in the same fashion. Each of them sported a bowl haircut and a rope belt. I almost laughed. “Ian, I don’t think we’re going to find any evil djinn in here. It’s a monastery.”

  “How can you be certain?”

  “Because of the monks.”

  It took him a minute to see what I meant. When he did, he made an agitated sound and said, “We should still investigate. This could be a … blanket.”

  “A blanket.” I practically had to bite my tongue. “You mean a cover?”

  “Whatever you call it. I have no trouble believing those snakes would feign human purity to hide themselves, if they are breeding.”

  “Uh-huh. So, even though the rest of them go around flaunting their fangs and scales, this one might be posing as a monk.”

  “Yes.”

  “Right. And I’m Mary Poppins.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Never mind.” If it’d get Ian to lay off the witch hunt long enough for us to make it home for a few days, I’d gladly spend a quarter hour poking around a monastery. Maybe the half-breeds on our trail would bypass this place and we’d lose them. “Fifteen minutes, at the statue. You want upstairs or down?”

  “Up.”

  “It’s yours. See you in fifteen.”

  I clambered over the wall. Behind me, I heard Ian do the same, and then his footfalls picked up their pace and passed me. He was practically running for the place. I hoped that didn’t mean he’d sensed our pursuers closing in and had neglected to mention it to me.

  Before I made half the distance to the monastery proper, a figure edged out from the shadows of an alcoved back door. Another monk, this one with shaggy blond hair and wearing a black robe. A beaded crucifix pendant hung around his neck—and his cane and dark glasses said I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I was visible.

  Still, being blind didn’t mean he was deaf. I tried to walk quieter.

  “Hello?” the blind monk called softly. His head turned in my direction. “Brother Justin? I thought you were working in the front gardens today. Is everything okay?”

  I froze, hoping the monk would leave if he didn’t hear anything else. He stayed put. After a few minutes, I started walking again. His demeanor shifted to wariness with my first step. “Who’s there?” he said—not so softly this time.

  Damn. I couldn’t stand out here all day playing freeze tag with this guy. While I debated the merits of making a run for the other side of the building, the sound of footsteps infiltrated the silence. They weren’t mine, or the monk’s. The sounds were behind me. And they were getting closer.

  I glanced back, expecting to see nothing. My expectations were disappointed. Lynus and Kit strode across the cleared ground, visible as billboards. I filed a mental note to break Ian’s teeth for not telling me how close they were—if I lived that long. At least I had some mojo back. Still, I didn’t dare move. I had to hope they wouldn’t be able to find me, because I only knew spells that destroyed tethers, not humans, and I’d already thrown away my weapon.

  But the half-breeds headed straight for the blind monk. “Hey. Old man,” Lynus called as they neared him. “We’re looking for a coupla dead men walking. They come through here?”

  The monk went rigid as a rock. “Who are you?”

  “Mother fucking Teresa. Answer the question.” Lynus stopped in front of him, with Kit flanking his left. “Two guys. Beat-up, weird-lookin’ assholes. You seen ’em?”

  A sardonic smile flashed across the monk’s face, and he tapped a finger on his glasses. “I haven’t seen anything.”

  “Don’t get smart, old man.”

  “Lynus, lay off.” Kit elbowed him and stepped forward. “Look, mister, just answer him. We don’t want no trouble with you.”

  The monk sighed. For just an instant he turned toward me, and I could’ve sworn he looked right at me. “No one at all has been here,” he said. “No one but me, and the other monks. You do realize this is a monastery?”

  “Yeah. It’s also the only place to hide for miles in these goddamned woods, and we know they come this way.” Lynus’s hands clenched at his sides. “I think you’re lying. Monk.”

  “I assure you I’m not. And I think you should leave.”

  “I think you should tell me where the fuck they are!” The enraged half-breed reached out and snagged the front of the monk’s robe. Before I could even register that the bastard meant to kill someone over me, much less do something about it, Lynus jerked the monk forward and snatched the glasses from his face.

  The second or so that followed refused to obey the laws of physics. Time distorted itself, stretching and folding, making out-of-order impressions on my brain. Lynus let out a breathless curse and dropped the monk’s arm like it was on fire. He grabbed Kit, or maybe Kit grabbed him. Both of them vanished. Running footsteps sounded, then ceased abruptly in a rush of air. Like they’d taken off flying—but that was impossible. Snakes didn’t fly.

  Finally, my shocked system focused on the monk, and the gaze that returned unfailingly to the place where I stood. Those eyes weren’t blind. They were reptilian green, with slitted pupils.

  I couldn’t move. No lockdown spell this time—sheer terrified indecision kept me planted in place. He was Morai, no doubt about that. But where were the fangs, the hairless dome, the seething and murderous hatred? There was nothing threatening about his appearance. He was tall and slender, with fair, almost feminine features. Lynus had called him an old man, but he didn’t look that old. Late thirties—and since djinn didn’t age the way we did, that probably gave him a couple of thousand years on Ian. Not good. The older a djinn, the more powerful he was.

  I tensed, preparing to sprint for the building, find Ian, and get the hell out of here. I’d been set on fire enough for one day.

  “So much for discretion.” A small smile pulled at the Morai’s mouth. He retrieved his glasses from the ground and put them on again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share this with the others here. My brothers aren’t ready to know. They are human, after all.”

  He had to be talking to me. I was pretty sure there weren’t any more invisible descendants out here—but then, how would I know? For the moment I didn’t know a damned thing anymore.

  He took a step toward me. “They won’t come back,” he said. “Please, show yourself. No harm will come to you.”

  I couldn’t stand here and wait for divine intervention. Neither God nor Ian was about to swoop down and save me, and on the surface it didn’t seem like I needed saving. But my limited knowledge crippled me. According to Ian, every time a Morai opened his mouth, a lie came out. And there were rules I didn’t quite understand about the djinn killing humans. They couldn’t do it directly, which was why the Morai had used humans to slaughter the rest of Ian’s descendants. They could kill in self-defense—but only when they were in animal form.

  Finally, I decided to take the risk and communicate. He wasn’t a snake right now, and I was pretty sure I could outrun him. Still, I wouldn’t let him see me yet.

  “I take it you’re not a monk,” I said.

  He looked startled for an instant. “Actually, I am,” he said slowly. “I was ordained in 1692.” He cleared his throat. “I never realized how disconcerting it is, speaking to someone who isn’t there. I hope I’m correct in assuming you’re djinn.”

  “More or less.” I stayed invisible, not entirely convinced of his intentions. “Why couldn’t those guys sense me? And if you knew, why didn’t you tell them I was here?”

  “For the same reason you can’t sense me. These grounds are my haven, and they’re protected from scrying spells. Though apparently they’re not safe from random djinn who happen to be wandering in the wilderness.” He frowned. “Who are you? Show yourself.”

  “In a minute.” Haven? Who could a full-blooded djinn need protection from? The answer came like a kick in the teeth. Ian. And by extension, me. Feeling a touch queasy, I said, “Why didn’t you tu
rn me over to those bast—er, guys?” I couldn’t bring myself to swear in front of a monk, even if he was a Morai.

  “They seemed intent on shedding blood. I don’t allow that here.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring.” I held back a sigh. If Ian knew I was standing here chatting with a Morai, he’d probably kick my ass. “All right. Here, I’m showing.” I dropped the vanishing act.

  The monk twitched. He paled a few shades. “You’re human.”

  “Not exactly.” I grimaced. He’d made human sound like a dirty word. “I’m—”

  “I know who you are.” His voice grew hoarse. “You’re the thief Donatti. The slayer’s apprentice.”

  My throat clenched tight. He knew my name, and apparently I’d acquired a title somewhere along the way. Not one I liked much either.

  “The prince. Is he here with you?”

  “He is indeed, snake.”

  Ian’s voice came from the alcove behind the Morai. The monk whirled and held up a defensive hand. “Wait. Rayan, please listen—”

  But Ian had already launched into a spell. The lockdown hit the monk in midsentence, and he stiffened and toppled to the ground.

  “Jesus … creepers, Ian!” I shook myself loose and strode toward the building. “How long have you been standing there?”

  Ian flickered into sight and regarded me with raised eyebrows. “Creepers?”

  “Answer the question.”

  He made a vague gesture. “I happened to glance out a window and saw the half-breeds approaching. I could not determine why I failed to sense them—though I know now. His wards prevent detection.” He glared down at the motionless Morai. “So I came to be sure you were safe. And found a snake in the grass.”

  “Really. Well, great job keeping me safe. You didn’t do a … darn thing, except stand there and eavesdrop.”

  “I would have acted, had it become necessary. You handled the situation well enough.” He gave me the look again. “Why are you speaking so strangely?”