I turned to him, puzzled. “What d’you mean? Rivano’s not crazy. Least, I dan’ think he is. Not much, anyhow. He’s been nothing but good to me.”
“Well, I like him for that. But you have to admit, he’s a strange critter.”
“They’re all like that,” I muttered. “The Clan.”
“Heard you and Jig might be signing up,” he said, with a strange glint in his eyes. “True?”
“Dan’ na,” I said. “Jig says yeah, but I just want to be useful. Learn more about my magic.”
“Can’t fault you there.”
He claimed a half-burned cigo from the ground by his feet and brushed it off on his waistcoat. I made a face as he examined it.
“That’s foul,” I remarked.
He just grinned and held up a hand, calling, “Scorch!”
I winced. The mage was crouched on the wall a bit down from us, like a carved devil-stone. He turned his head, slowly, and peered at us through the shadows. My blood chilled.
“Coins!” I hissed. “Dan’ talk to him! He gives me the heebies.”
But I was too late. Scorch had already slipped from the wall and was striding toward us, dark and elegant despite the scar twisting his face. I shivered and edged closer to Coins. These powerful mages, they were elemental. If Shade was wind and lightning and the wild edge of the storm, Scorch was shadow and fire and the pit of the night. Next to them, I felt so, so small.
“What do you want with me?” Scorch asked, voice low.
“Gimme a light, mate?” Coins asked, grinning, and held out the cigo.
Scorch snorted and flicked a glance at me. I must’ve looked bird-scared, because he kind of smirked and took a step closer to me. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
I swallowed and tossed my head, trying to stand a little taller. “Not afraid of aught,” I said, and blushed, because everyone was afraid of something, deep down, and my lie only made me weak.
“I’m sure,” he murmured. “You’re one of my kind, aren’t you? The little Shifter?”
I almost denied it. Almost. But instead I said nothing at all.
He kept his eyes locked on mine, but his fingers came up between us and he snapped them, once, sending a little tongue of flame flicking into the sky. I jumped. I couldn’t help it. I grobbing jumped like I was afraid of him, and he just laughed like he knew it.
“Cut it out, Scorch,” Coins said, eyes narrowing up. “You’re not impressing anyone.”
The laugh died on Scorch’s lips and he turned a withering glare on Coins. “You know my name,” he said. “Somehow I can’t seem to recall yours.”
Coins smirked. “Well, not my problem if you’ve got a burnt out cinder-bin for a skull, right?”
Scorch’s face paled. But before he could retort, I grabbed Coins by the arm and dragged him back.
“C’mon, Coins. There’s more interesting folks to talk to here,” I said.
Coins gave Scorch a mock salute and swung away, taking me by the arm and strolling along like we were proper nobility.
“You suppose your fancy-pants Prince is going to make an appearance?” he asked, shooting me a wicked grin. “That who you had in mind?”
“Shush!” I said. “He’s still traveling, right? Haven’t heard a pip about him being back. Anyway, I dan’ much care to see him. Too high and tidy for his own good.”
“I think it’s high and mighty.”
“Nah, not him. Just tidy,” I said, but I laughed, because I had gotten it wrong and he knew it. A minute and I sobered up a bit, giving Coins’s arm a little squeeze. “Coins, those mages scare the soot out of me.”
“Rivano’s pets?” He shrugged. “A bit high and flighty, I guess.”
I shoved him. “That’s me, you dundering idiot.”
“Whoops,” he said. “Sorry.”
“I dan’ want to join the Clan if it means I have to deal with them,” I said, turning my head aside. “They’ll just mock me like he did.”
“So? Go crow on ‘em and peck their eyes out. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”
I laughed and tipped my head back to the sky. The night couldn’t have been finer. Some patchy stars glimmered behind the wisps of cloud, and even the wind had died to a whisper. I drew a deep breath, letting the cold air sting my lungs with a smell of fire and sweets and roasting meat. In the center of the plaza folks were swirling in a country dance, wild and raucous and full of stomping and clapping. I watched the dancers a while, feeling a bit wistful. All on a sudden I caught myself wondering if Shade ever danced. I tried to picture it, but I just got an image of him scowling at me like a devil, and I almost laughed aloud.
“You want to dance, Hayli?” Coins asked, shaking my arm.
I jumped and stared at him. “What, why?”
“‘Cause you’ve been goggling at those folks for five minutes now. Reckon you’d want a chance at it?”
I blushed to the roots of my hair. “Nah,” I said. “Really, I’m good. Just…just admiring those fine dresses, that’s all.”
“Mmhmm,” he said. “S’pose if Shade asked you, you might reconsider?”
“What, is he here?” I asked, my head snapping up.
He just laughed. “Sorry, Hayli, he’s not.”
“Oh.”
I scanned the crowds anyway, wistful, but Coins was right. Shade wasn’t anywhere to be seen. But my gaze snagged on a familiar figure, and I froze. Kantian. Kantian, at a Kalethelia festival? Mostly I thought the adults believed the festivities were for the skitters and the fancy folks who couldn’t garner an invitation to the palace. I scowled a bit and watched him. He was talking to someone, but I couldn’t quite see who. Just a shine of spectacles, maybe, but loads of people wore spectacles. That didn’t tell me aught. Still, it didn’t seem like either of them were here for the party. They had a kind of angry air about them.
I rubbed my hands over my arms, cold suddenly.
“Look, Coins, I think I’m ganna head back.”
“Everything jake? I didn’t scare you off, did I? Didn’t mean nothing by it, Hayli, honest…”
“I know,” I said. “Just…not in the celebrating mood right now, I guess.”
He nodded. “Sure. Want me to walk back with you?”
“Nah,” I said. “Gan and have fun. Think that girl over there’s been goggling you…maybe you should say hullo.”
His head jerked up, and I laughed at how red his cheeks turned. Before he could say another word, I slipped away and into the crowd. Maybe, just maybe, I’d find Shade back at the Hole. My stomach squirmed a bit. Maybe he was there…hoping I’d come back early. Maybe we’d kick the ball around the enclosure and talk and forget how strange things had got between us.
I hoped.
But he wasn’t there. No one was there. All the kids had gone, and Kantian…oh stars, why was it that that spectacled man made me think of Dr. Kippler? But that wasn’t possible. Kantian wouldn’t have aught to do with those palace boffins. He hated the whole lot of them.
But Kantian was a slippery devil, and I knew how he liked to have a hand on the all the levers. I decided I’d keep an eye on him. Just in case.
Since I was all alone at the Hole, I steeled myself to the cold and went to the trough to get a good wash. Usually it was so hard to steal a moment when none of the other skitters were around, and I didn’t see the point of getting up as early as Gemmie and Kite did. All the other girls were too young, and hardly ever remembered they needed a washing to start with.
I unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it beside the trough, shivering as the wind cut through the threadbare cloth of my undershirt. It was a sleeveless thing that one of the younger lads had abandoned, but even so, it barely fit me. Or, it barely fit me decently. When I’d first got to the Hole, I wouldn’t have cared so much, but the last few years I’d changed and gotten self-conscious like I’d sworn I never would. The shirt fit just snug enough over my stomach, but my shoulders were too thin and narrow to hold the neck up proper. Even though
Gem had taught me how to wrap a bandeau around my chest—the one kind thing she’d ever done for me—I still felt horribly exposed. At least I was alone, and could enjoy my wash in peace without worrying about the lads cracking on me.
I turned on the spigot and shoved my whole head under the gush of water, gasping with the icy shock. Dancing to warm up and not much caring how I looked, I splashed water quick as I could over my neck and arms, scrubbing my hands over my skin as much to keep the blood moving as to scour away the dirt and filth.
“Great muttering hog monkeys,” I chattered under my breath, thinking of every not-quite cuss word I could use to keep my teeth from clacking.
“Cold, Hayli?”
“Oy!” I squeaked, my arms flying up to cover my chest, while icy rivers streamed down my back. I spun around and found Anuk staring at me like I’d gone bird. “Anuk! I’m trying to have a wash! Gan away!”
“Hayli,” he said, drawing his brows into a frown. “Turn around.”
I scowled. “I’m not letting you dunk me.”
“Just…turn around.”
I stared at him a good long minute, then turned slowly to face the trough. I felt his fingers in my dripping hair and shivered, confused as could be. But he just touched the nape of my neck, like he was touching something in particular.
“Where did you get this?”
“Get what? What’re you on about, Anuk?”
“This mark. Where’d it come from?”
I scowled and swiped my shirt from the ground, slipping it on over my wet arms and back. My fingers were too numb for buttons, so I left it to hang open. “I dan’ na what you’re talking about. I dan’ have a mark.”
He dropped his hands on my shoulders. “Yeah. You do.”
I twisted my head, but of course I couldn’t see whatever he’d seen. “What’s it look like?”
“I’ll show you,” he said, and led me down into the Hole.
I followed him to one of the old factory storerooms, where they’d left some of their steel products after the fire. Some of the girls liked to go in there because the steel plates made a decent sort of mirror, if you brought in enough torch-wielding friends for reinforcements. I just had Anuk and his torch, but when he turned my back to face the steel and held the light just right, I saw what he’d seen.
All the blood drained from my face.
I shrugged my over-shirt clear of my shoulders to get a better goggle, but there was no mistaking it. At the nape of my neck, my back was etched with clockwork—three brass and copper gears locked together. In the torch’s feeble light, I even got the strange notion the gears were shifting.
“Oh God,” I whispered, ice like terror shooting through my veins. “Anuk, get it off! Get it off! What is it?”
He turned me back around, so I could see my fear-white and wide-eyed face staring at me from the steel, and his somber look as he touched the mark again.
“It’s…I think it’s permanent,” he said.
I was shaking all over, and after a minute of frowning down at me, Anuk put his arms around me and pulled me against his broad chest.
“It’s all right,” he said, his voice rumbling against his ribs. “You’re jake, Hayli. Don’t worry.”
“I’ve got a mark,” I whispered. “I’ve got a mark and I dan’ na how I got it. And a mark like that! All…gears and machines and metal…” I shivered and buried my head against his chest. “I wanted a real mark, someday. Bird wings on my shoulders, maybe. I wanted to choose it, though!”
And it seemed like such a dafty thing to latch onto, but it was less terrifying than wondering how I’d got gears on my backbone.
“Dan’ tell anyone,” I whispered suddenly. “Please, Anuk. What’d Rivano say if he saw me all marked up with clockwork?”
“I won’t,” he said. “Not anyone.”
I peeked over my shoulder and my breath snagged. Oh stars, I wouldn’t cry. I’d sworn I’d never cry. Crying was weak. I wouldn’t be weak…
Anuk’s arms tightened around me, strong, secure. But all I really wanted was for Shade to hold me…but Shade would never even touch me, like he already knew I was a tainted thing. Oh stars, maybe that was it. Maybe he knew. I was marked with gears and metal, and who would ever want me now?
They did this to me.
I knew it all on a sudden, with a terrible certainty and an anger that burned away my fear and all my anguish. It was the only explanation, the only thing that made sense. Those horrid scientists…they had marked me.
But why?
* * * *
Shade didn’t come back in the morning, and by the time dinner came and he was still missing, the skitters were all in a wild fit of worry, even the ones who didn’t have much notion about what the others had planned. I could tell his group of lads were getting a bit fitsy too, especially Jig, who kept insisting they go out hunting for him. We all set about the tables in the mess, poking at our food, not talking much, and everyone jumped any time anybody walked in. I’d given up on staring at the door, and stared at my plate of beets instead. Pika sat on her hands beside me, swinging her legs under the bench and scowling at the world in general.
“What’s bothering, Hayli?” she whispered. “You’re so sad. All day, you been so sad.”
“I’m not sad,” I said, lifting my chin to prove it. “Dan’ be silly.”
“But it’s etched on you,” she said, her eyes huge in the dim light. I jumped and stared at her. “The sadness, etched all over you.”
I let out a breath. “I’m worried just about Shade.”
“He’s sad too. He dan’ understand.” Her eyes widened. “Just wants to forget.”
I frowned as I studied her. She knew so much, that wee thing, things she shouldn’t be able to know. If only she could talk about them in a way that was sensible-like.
“Hayli,” she said suddenly. “He’s here.”
Everyone fell dead silent at that, and we all just stared at Shade standing in the doorway. If I were him, I’d likely have turned and flown away fast as I could, but Shade just scanned the room until he spotted his lads. He held out a hand, beckoning them.
“Time to go,” he said.
His gaze drifted over the mess. I held my breath as it shifted my way. He wasn’t going to look at me. I knew he wouldn’t.
Then his dark eyes met mine, and he didn’t look anywhere else. He didn’t smile, and he didn’t say a word. But his gaze held mine, for just one breathless moment, then he turned and strode away.
I let out all my breath in one shattered sigh, feeling strangely queasy. That look…it had felt like an apology. It had almost felt like a goodbye.
Chapter 8 — Tarik
Branigan had agreed to meet us, but only at night, and only on the street. Neither fact made me very happy, but I couldn’t let on to the other lads that I was uneasy. They were antsy enough, because some of the kids at the Hole had run into Branigan’s crew before, and apparently before I’d returned they’d busied themselves filling everyone’s ears with horror stories of what Branigan had done.
So now Jig and Coins couldn’t stop jumping at noises, and Anuk hadn’t let go of his knife since we’d left the Hole. We reached the street we’d agreed on, a wide and dreary scrap of the city between an old clothing factory and a rundown flour mill. Branigan and his crew were already there, waiting for us, smoking stale cigars under a tattered red awning that dripped rain like grease in the gaslight. Unlike Joren, Branigan had a couple of toughs that actually looked the part. They wore leather armor under their jackets, the bracers on their arms glinting with brass clasps and buckles in the light of the street lamp.
Branigan straightened up when he caught sight of us, a vague smile hovering around his lips. I grimaced, because the notion that a thug like Branigan was happy to see me made my blood curdle.
“Shade, right?” he called, as we came closer.
“Branigan,” I said. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stopped where I was, tilting my head back to stare at
him.
He took his hat off and tucked back the displaced strands of his dark hair. “Joren said you had an air. Didn’t think I’d believe him.”
I didn’t answer.
“Well, don’t just stand there, Mage,” he said, as if my gift were a title. “We won’t bite.”
“You’ve got information for me?” I asked, never moving. “That’s all I’m interested in.”
He smiled. “Not very congenial of you.”
Jig shifted his weight behind me—primed for a fight, I knew. Ever since we’d walked away from Joren, he’d been itching for a battle. But he’d be an idiot to think we could take on these men, even though Branigan had only two toughs to Joren’s five. They had a deadly air about them.
“Come on,” Branigan said, jerking his head, beckoning me. “Let’s have a chat, just you and me. Tell your lads to scram.”
I hesitated, my blood turning cold. “Don’t see how that sounds…congenial.”
He laughed. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I can’t think of a reason why I should.”
“Way I heard it, you could take down all of us at a thought, if you had a mind to. Maybe I’m the one at a disadvantage.”
I turned and met Anuk’s frigid glance, then shifted back to Branigan and said, “Give me a moment.”
“Sure thing.” He gave me a kind of patronizing grin, like he knew I was in way over my head, no matter how he made pretenses to the contrary. “Take your time.”
He took a step away, shooing the toughs back with him. I waited, hands in my pockets, until they’d gotten out of earshot, though I could still see Branigan’s smirk across the shadows. I turned to the lads.
Coins grabbed my arm. “Don’t let him bait you.”
“I don’t trust that man,” Anuk said, glowering.
“Me either. But if I can get the dirt from him, it’ll be worth it,” I said.
“Shade,” Jig said, and took a step closer to me. “That man’s killed people, just for…I dan’ na, for not having the right look.”
“I know.”
“Don’t think you’re invulnerable,” Anuk murmured. “For all you can do, that man can do ten times worse.”
The Madness Project (The Madness Method) Page 39
