“It was stupid,” he said, bitter. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”
“It’s what Rivano and Kantian asked.” I gave him my best attempt at a smile. “Derrin! It’s jake. Guess what? I remember you.”
“Remember me?”
“Chasing after me,” I said, grinning, turning red as I didn’t say what else I remembered.
His eyes widened. “You do? I didn’t get a chance to say anything, though.”
“You said my name.” I winced and picked myself up. “Reminded me what I am.”
He smiled, suddenly. “Hayli, that’s fantastic!”
“Now, if I can just get so I remember straight away, maybe I won’t gan trying to beat my head through a brick wall next time.”
“True,” he said with a quiet laugh. “You did good. Go on, scram. Take the rest of the day.”
I grinned and limped toward the door, feeling ridiculously proud of myself.
Chapter 9 — Tarik
I woke to the murmur of voices somewhere close by, unfamiliar voices.
“He’s been in and out for days. What do you think’s wrong with him, Gunny?” one asked.
“Probably the water. Remember when my cousin from Tulay came visiting? Thought she was off to ride the stars too. All from a glass of water.”
Water. My mouth and throat cracked with thirst, but just the thought of drinking made me sick again. My whole body shook till my muscles ached.
“Well, keep trying with the broth.”
The other speaker chuckled. “Swear, if it were me, the broth would make me sicker than ever. You tasted this stuff? Sand soup.”
“Least it’s hot.”
I tried to open my eyes, but the tiny room shifted dizzily under me. Barely I glimpsed two figures standing in the doorway nearby, framed with light. One was Coolie, the older man I’d met before. The other—Gunny, I assumed—I didn’t recognize at all. He was short and square as an armored steam crawler, with the thickest neck I’d ever seen in a man. I pulled my gaze away from them and stared vaguely around the room. The plaster walls curved in on me, the ceiling bobbed. One lone light swayed and fluxed over my head, then blinked out as the stranger came to my side.
“Are you awake?” he asked, resting a hand on my shoulder.
I licked my lips, squinting at his face. “Am I going to die?”
“Probably not. You’re like to come through it in another day or so. I think.”
I wanted to laugh, or protest, but I couldn’t make myself care. The man lifted my shoulders and pressed a mug to my lips. I smelled salt and something like chicken, and ravening hunger and desperate thirst forced open my mouth. A little warm liquid trickled over my tongue and I swallowed greedily, painfully. Waited to see if I could keep it down. When the room darkened and blurred, I grabbed the man’s arm for support. I could barely hold on to his sleeve. And I just stared at my fingers, wrinkled and thin as an old man’s, and almost grey in the bright light. I couldn’t even imagine what the rest of me looked like.
I’m a Mask, I’m a Mask… I thought. I shouldn’t look sick. Should I?
I swallowed three more sips of the broth before the man released me. Something halfway soft met my back—soft but rasping, like straw. A pillow supported my head, propping me up to ward off the nausea.
“Where am I?” I asked, as the man laid another rough blanket over me. Gad, I felt like such an infant.
“Infirmary,” he said, and smiled. “Or what passes for one. Sleep now. It’s the best thing for you.”
I swallowed, cautiously, but the broth seemed content to stay put. So I nodded and closed my eyes.
Slept.
I shifted between restless sleep and awful waking for what felt like ages, until the morning I woke to grey daylight and a deeper emptiness in my stomach than I’d ever felt before. Dizziness gripped me as I tried to sit up, and for a few minutes I just leaned over my knees and tried to stop the world from spinning.
“Finally come through it, have you?”
I glanced up, only to find Coolie leaning in the doorway, arms crossed.
“What was wrong with me?”
“You’re an Istian boy, right? I’m thinking the water didn’t set too well for you. It happens.”
I grimaced and rubbed my hands over my face. “Will it do this to me again?”
“Nah. Should be no trouble now.” He came into the room and straddled the wooden chair under the window. “What brings you to Brinmark? Figure you’re a mage. Why would you come here instead of staying in Istia? Must be you’re after something.”
“An answer,” I said. “I’m looking for a Ghost.”
He frowned, staring over my head as he thought that over. “Don’t know any Ghosts,” he said. “That’s a rare gift. Rare as a Mask.” He gestured at my face. “There are mages all over South Brinmark, if you know where to look for them. Not a lot of them are as bold as you, blazoning their gift on their skin for everyone to see. You might check with Rivano’s crew. He’s got a fine bunch of mages hanging on his apron strings.”
“They’re not the welcoming type,” I said.
He laughed. “So you’ve met them.”
“Exchanged a few words with the Meats. And a few punches.”
“Right, you mentioned that. That’s as far as you got?”
“Yeah.” I stared at the bed sheet, at the tiny black bug crawling toward my pillow. I barely stifled a shudder. “Any idea how I can get in with them?”
“Pretend to be a devoted worshiper?”
“Worshiper?”
“So you don’t know about Rivano’s more…eh…lively practices? Some folks say he likes to initiate his followers in blood. Human blood. And if they don’t comply? Well. I suppose the other initiates need victims.”
“They must be lying,” I said. “No one does that sort of thing anymore.”
He lifted his hands, feigning offense. “I’m just saying it. Not saying I believe it. I’m sure his crew have got theories about us, too.”
“What’s your theory about him? I heard he’s trying to recruit folks. Any notion why?”
“Oh, hell, if I knew that, I’d be a rich man. Sure the puppet king and his legions would pay a handsome price for that information.”
“Puppet king?” I echoed, strangling the anger before it surfaced.
He just gave me a look. “You must be hungry,” he said, and sprang up from the chair. “Come on.”
I staggered to my feet and followed him out into the corridor. The infirmary was on the ground floor of the building, and from here I could see a couple of kids sitting on the steps in the foyer, watching the front door with rifles across their knees. Tam and Zip weren’t among them, but a few of them eyed me warily.
“Do you always keep a sentry?” I asked.
Coolie smiled grimly and ushered me down the hall in the other direction. “Not always. Got threats from another house last night, though, so the kids have been on vigil.”
“What kind of threats?”
“Not your concern, kid. Just politics.”
I stifled a smile. If only he knew. Still, his silence annoyed me, because that was one of my greatest fears about this whole assignment—if these people thought of me as just another street rat, then why would they ever trust me with information? The other kids didn’t know anything; I was pretty well convinced of that. But the adults would be paranoid and secretive, and I had no notion of how to convince them to trust me. For a moment I wondered why Kor hadn’t told me to make myself appear older. The next time I saw him, I planned to ask.
We reached a broken door, and Coolie struggled a moment to wrestle it open. I expected something like the Hole’s canteen on the other side, or maybe a food storage room, but instead I found myself peering out into the alley.
“All right, kid. Off you go.”
I stared at him blankly as I stepped through the door. “I thought…”
“You thought I’d give you free food?” He laughed. “No one here gets
a free meal. This ain’t a charity house. Scram before my lads escort you off my property.”
“I’m not asking for charity,” I said, hot.
“No, of course not,” he said. “Look. Word to the wise? Shut your gab. Nobody down here takes kind to strangers, especially not strangers with big mouths who ask too many questions. If you want to live to see tomorrow, then eyes down and mouth shut.”
I didn’t get a chance to reply before he slammed the door between us. For a few minutes I stared at the door, stung and baffled, and queasy with hunger. I couldn’t seem to get my head around what had just happened. One minute they were nursing me back to health, the next…throwing me onto the street. And if I couldn’t even ask questions…
Stars. I’ll never survive out here.
I backed down the stone steps until I stood in the alley, and tipped my head back to get my bearings. If Coolie had brought me around to a west side exit, that meant the main entry was on the north side of the building. I traced my way toward it, trying to remember which way Zip had brought me after he’d found me on the street. But halfway around the building I stopped and sat down against the wall, because my whole memory of that trip blurred together, and I knew I’d never be able to find my way back to where I’d been.
Not that I’d known where that was, either.
I sat there until my legs turned numb, half-expecting Zip to show up miraculously by my side. He didn’t come. Kor didn’t come. Hayli didn’t come.
I sat alone.
Chapter 10 — Hayli
Pika and Bugs had gone topside days ago, and everyone else I trusted at the Hole had disappeared too. All but Derrin, but I figured he had work to do for Kantian anyway, from the way he’d shunted me off yesterday after my Shifting disaster. I wandered out into the enclosure behind the front gate, kicking the old leather ball against the stone wall because, for the first time in ages, I didn’t have a single thing to do. I didn’t imagine Derrin would want me playing the tricks he’d taught me, not just yet. Knowing my luck, I’d make a bad beat of it and bring all the coppers in Brinmark down on the Hole.
I picked up the ball and plucked at its gut threads, and barely caught a yelp when a hand appeared out of nowhere and batted it loose.
“Jig!” I cried, when I turned and found him grinning at me. “What’re you doing about?”
He shrugged, brushing his black hair out of his face. “Derrin told me to stay close a few days. Dan’ na why, except I guess he’s still sore at me.”
“Sorry you got roughed up. Why’d you have to gan knuckling with Shade, anyway? Wasn’t once enough?”
“He cheated,” Jig snapped, drawing up and turning all fire-eyed. “He needed to know that dan’ stand down here.”
I snorted and pulled the ball back with my toe. “You mean he cheated you and that dan’ stand,” I said. “How bad was he hurt?”
“Dan’ know, dan’ really care. If he couldn’t handle it, he shouldn’t have showed ‘im face down here, like. Why’re you so worried about him? He’s just a stray.”
“We were all strays once.”
I turned to go, but his hand shot out and caught my elbow. I did yelp, then, because it hurt worse than I imagined it would. Quick as a flash Jig let me go, staring at me wide-eyed and all tensed up.
“You a’right?” he asked, breathless.
“I’m jake. Derrin had me practicing my Shifting a bit. I…I kind of went crazy in the training room.”
He whistled. “Oy, I’m so glad I’m not a broken, like.”
“A broken?” I retorted, spinning back to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Haven’t you ever talked to Rivano? Div’n you ever ask him about magic?”
I gaped at him. “You’ve talked to Rivano?”
“Why aye, bunches. I wanted to know about the Clan. I’m ganna join, Hayli. Soon as Rivano says I can.”
“Wha—why?” I gasped.
Jig wanted to join the Clan? That didn’t make any sense in the world.
“You ever wonder why people hate folks like you?” Jig asked, frowning at the pavement. “It’s that they’re all in love with machines and steam, and none of that can explain you. They dan’ like what they dan’ understand. You break their rules. But there’s more out there than just gears and engines. Rivano knows that. Folks used to know it. They’ll know it again one day, just wait.”
I couldn’t stop staring at him, because I’d never heard him be that quick about anything before.
I waved my hand in front of his eyes. “You a’right in there?”
“Am I ever not?” he asked, and batted my hand aside.
“Jig, why does Rivano call us broken, if he thinks we’re so special?”
“Well,” he said, and shrugged. “Maybe not you. But Mavens are, prob’ly. And Aces even worse. That’s what he said. I div’n quite get all of what he meant by it. It was all up here a bit,” he added, swishing his hand over his head.
I gritted my teeth. It figured I wouldn’t be able to get good sense out of Jig. He had smarts, more than Link and Vim anyway, but he didn’t have the patience for the thinking part. If he couldn’t figure something out in the first ten seconds, he was already on to the next thing. Maybe I’d have to talk to Rivano myself, but I really didn’t want to. Not yet. I wondered if Shade would know…being a Maven himself and all.
“I’m ganna look for Shade,” I said. “Come along if you like.”
“What makes you think—”
“You’re foursquare and even now, right?” I snapped. “He beat you, you beat him. Now switch track and act like a normal person.”
Boys, I thought. God save me from boys.
“Girls,” Jig muttered. “You just dan’ get it, do you?”
I grinned and headed for the gate, not bothering to wait and see if he’d come., but by the time I’d reached the street I could hear him there on my heels.
“So, where’re we ganna gan?” he asked. “We can’t just comb the whole city for him.”
“Where would you gan if you were him?”
“A stranger like him? Stars, I think I’d head northside and try to scrounge some skappers, like. Though, before we got in that tussle by the rubbish bin, I thought I saw one of the Bricks’ kids talking to him. So maybe he tried to get in with them.”
I made a face. “I dan’ think he’d gan about near the Bricks. Suppose we can check, though.”
We turned down a narrow alley, tracking a bit south. It wasn’t much, nothing more than a gap between two buildings, crammed with bits of crumbly boxes and a stink like rotting meat. Lucky Jig and I were both slim, but even we had to walk a bit crabwise to squeeze through. I kept getting little glimmers from my crow-memory along the way. I’d seen Shade holed up on a stoop somewhere near here, not far from the old brick building that Coolie’s crew ruled. Maybe Jig was right.
I hoped he was, anyway, even if it was the Bricks. Three days alone on the street would be a nightmare for anyone, but Shade seemed a bit short on the street savv that the rest of us had. It was just something about him that, for all his icy pride, seemed open and uncertain—something I think Derrin would call vulnerable. Maybe Shade didn’t live on the streets in Istia. I wished I’d asked him when I had the chance.
We reached that dank and muddy street where I—where the crow—had seen Shade, but Shade must’ve cleared out long since. I brushed my hand over the rusting railing, remembering the feel of cold iron under the bird’s feet, and shivered.
“He’s not here,” I said.
“Not surprising,” he said. “Keep on. Maybe we can ask the Bricks.”
“Eee, talk to the Bricks, are you serious?” I asked. “Us and them, talking? Politely? Not ganna happen.”
“Oy there, look,” Jig said, tapping my arm and pointing down the street.
A boy about Bugs’ age perched up in a second-story window in the next building down, scowling at us like a terror. He wore a fine black cap two sizes too big for him, mismatched to
the whisper-thin shirt hanging off his shoulders.
“That’s the kid,” Jig whispered.
“Dan’ come no closer!” the skitter hollered, scuttling out of the window and down to the street so fast my stomach cringed. “Meats ain’t allowed here!”
“We’re not the Meats,” I shouted, willing Jig to keep his mouth shut. “We’re special operatives.”
“You’re whatatives?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m looking for Shade. You seen him?”
The kid inched closer, and a minute later another boy shot out the same window. He looked to be about my age, tow-headed and angry-looking, glaring daggers at Jig as if they’d met before. With a few long strides he passed the little skitter and stopped in front of us, arms folded. He gave me a lazy once-over, smirked at Jig’s still-battered face.
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m his friend,” I said. “Been looking for him.”
“Oy, didn’t realize you were a dame,” he said, brows shooting up.
“I’m a girl, not a dame.”
He puffed out his breath in a little laugh. “Right. So, you’re the one who gave him the water?”
“What?”
He exchanged a glance with the younger kid. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. He was pig sick from the water. Stayed with us a few days.”
“And now?”
He shrugged. “He’s free on the wing, I suppose.”
I turned to the wee skitter to see if he had aught to add to that, but they both just stood staring at us like we’d sprouted from the pavement. That went on about half a tick, until I figured there was no point wasting more time with the pair of them. With Jig in tow, I shouldered past them and marched straight down toward the Bricks’ headquarters, a ghastly frowning building with shot-out windows that always gave me the creeps. I could hear the two kids arguing, then the little one came pelting after us.
“Tam says dan’ gan to the door. Shade’s long ganned away anyway, and Coolie’s on edge.”
“So?” I asked.
“So he prob’ly told the sentry to shoot first, ask second!” the kid exclaimed, like I was a dafty beak. “I wanted them to let Shade stay. I really did. But sure he hasn’t got far. Not hungry as he must have been.”
The Madness Project (The Madness Method) Page 22
