I'm sorry, I think, dropping my eyes in shame from the boy's, unable to look at him anymore. I'm sorry, but I cain't help you.
I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to see anymore. And to be honest, the way the boy seems to be in my head, well, it's freakin' me out. Eyes averted, I climb down from my perch, not waiting to see the sale, to see the boy led away to his new life of servitude. I push my way through the suffocating crowd, my anger intensified by their laughter and uncaring attitudes to what is happening around them. Unfeeling, callous, cruds, all of 'em.
I stop long enough to get the wildfowl from the butcher, wanting to get away from the market as quick as I can. I’m totally unsettled by my experience. Did I truly imagine the boy's voice in my head? Is the connection real, or is it just a manifestation of my anger and guilt at my inability to help? Is this a new aspect of my Chi, or am I truly losing my mind? I hurry my steps in a rush to get back to Sanctuary. I need to talk to Lily. I need some answers.
Keeping my eyes down, I scurry along the sides of the street, sticking close to the stone buildings. The sea of people ain't as heavy in here, and I don't have watch everywhere I step. A slight movement from the alley to my left catches my eye as I pass, causing me to halt in my tracks. I blink into the dimness, wondering if maybe I’d finally spotted one of Flip's little "birdies" following me. I start to think my mind is playing tricks on me when I hear a soft cry of someone calling for help coming from the darkness. My heart skips a beat. Maybe it’s the boy. Maybe he’s escaped from the fat-bellied man somehow and is asking for my help again. I keep peering, but I don't see nobody. I hesitate, debating if maybe I’d imagined it when I hear it again.
"Help me."
It’s real enough all right. It sure sounds like a young'un. I look ‘round, trying to see if anyone else is hearing this, but they’re all passing me by, not even giving the alley a second look.
"Hey, did you hear that?" I say to a scruffy-bearded man as he passes, but he just growls at me and pushes me outta his way.
"Jackass!" I yell at his retreating back, but he don't even bother to turn back. I take a step, but falter. The alley is dark and just reeks of trouble. Probably shouldn't go in there. Maybe it really is all in my head. Wouldn’t be the first time. But then that little cry comes again, and my feet start down the lane on their own before my mind’s even made up. I cain't ignore it anymore.
About halfway in, I stop. I can see a shape huddled on the ground, underneath a rotting, half crumbled stairway. This ain't a wise decision, the little voice in my head nags at me, but another whimper overrides the voice. Closer now I can see that it’s a small person for sure, hunched over with its head on its knees.
"Hey," I say in a quiet voice as I approach, not wanting to startle him or her. "You okay?"
There ain't no answer. I reach out and touch the bony shoulder. Suddenly the kid’s head pops up, and his hand grabs my wrist with alarming strength. I gasp, immediately realizing my mistake. It ain't no poor, innocent child at all but a young man, his pockmarked face twisted with a leering grin. I try to jerk my hand back, to get away, but his strength belies his scrawny frame, and he just keeps grinning at me.
"Well, well, and what did you entice into our alley this time, Nud?"
The voice comes from behind me and panic sets in. Being stuck between two unknowns in a dark alley is not good. Are they Army? I try again to yank away, but the skinny runt holding my wrist scrambles nimbly to his feet, almost pulling down on top of him with his effort.
"Let. Go. Of. Me," I demand, yanking hard on my wrist.
"And look at this. She brought us supper." I can feel the wildfowl being pulled outta my other hand, but I kinda think that’s the least of my worries at the moment. The owner of the voice walks into view, and I can see he’s much older than the runt with the iron grip on my arm and bigger. He’s dressed in rags with a long, scraggly beard hanging nearly to his chest. The parts of his face not covered in hair are crusted with dirt, and the stench that’s wafting offa him overpowers the rotting garbage of the alley. He certainly ain't Army like I’d first thought. My panic lessens some as I realize I ain't being captured. I’m just being robbed.
"Let me go," I say again, glaring with all the fierceness I can muster at the dirty thief in front of me. "I ain't got nuthin' you want."
He raises one eyebrow in surprise.
"Well, I don't know about that. You have these delicious-looking, fat birds in your possession. And you have this." He bends over and snatches my knife outta my boot before I even realize what he’s up to. He’s quick, I’ll give him that. He studies the blade, turning it over in his hands before his eyes come back to rest on my face.
"This is a beauty. Tell me where a young thing like you got such a nice knife?" He don't give me a chance to answer before those beady eyes leave my face and travel slowly down my body with a look that makes every inch of my skin crawl. "And you’d be surprised at what else I want from you, little girl."
The runt holding me laughs then, a twisted sound that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and leaves me no doubt as to what he means. Enough of this shite. I open my mouth intending to scream for help, but a hard punch to my gut leaves me gasping for breath instead. I hunch over in pain. That little shitehead just punched me! Furious now, I wait for my Chi to rise and overtake me. Serves 'em right when it does and I make mincemeat out of 'em. So I wait for my blood to be set aflame and for the buzzing to fill my head, but it don't happen. There ain't no surge of power like I’m expecting. What the hell?
"In here, Nud." The older one is standing by a door I ain't notice before, motioning with my knife and whispering in excitement. The runt gives a tug, pulling me off balance and starts dragging me towards the entryway. Fear festers in my innards, tying 'em in a knot. I know I sure as hell don't wanna be inside there with these two crazy bastards. Where the hell is my Chi?
The knot in my gut tightens the closer I get to that doorway. I know if they manage to get me in there, something real bad is gonna happen. I dig in my heels, still waiting for that familiar heat. Nuthin'. Panicking now, I frantically try to disengage my arm from the young man's grip, but he ain't letting me go. I have to do something and quick.
Suddenly, Mack's voice fills my head. His weeks of yelling at me start to make sense. I dig in my heels and yank hard, spinning the runt around with this change in balance.
"Oh, hell no," I snarl as my free hand shoots out instinctively, and my fist rams into the runt's throat. Immediately, he drops my arm and begins choking and gasping for air. I take advantage of his inability to breathe and kick my boot hard into the side of his knee, causing his leg to buckle and him to drop to the ground. Once he’s down, I deliver a bruising kick to his face, and he flies back with the force of the blow.
With him down for the moment, I whirl on the bigger one. If he’s shocked at all by seeing his partner struggling for breath, he quickly recovers and his eyes dart back to me, bulging with rage. He holds up the knife he’d taken from me earlier, threatening me. He moves at me sideways, looking to slice me open.
"Don't matter if you fight back, girl. Dead or alive, you'll still serve us your purpose."
He slashes at my belly then, and I twist back just in time as the knife misses me by a hair and slices at nuthin' but empty air.
Having missed his intended target, his momentum throws him off balance and he stumbles forward. I don't hesitate. My foot comes up hard, aiming for the vulnerable spot between his legs. Realizing my intent, he swerves at the last second, causing my foot to connect with his thigh instead, and he catches my leg in a death grip.
He twists my leg hard, and I start to fall, but the runt has recovered somewhat and grabs both my arms, pinning them behind my back. I can hear his raspy breaths behind me, and I know he’s gonna have trouble talking for at least a few days. I struggle against him, but for such a skinny piece of shite, he has a strong grip.
The older one drops my leg now, breathing h
eavy with exertion. Hate radiates offa him in waves. Before I can brace myself for his attack, he backhands me hard across the face with his hairy knuckle. I swear I actually hear my teeth clatter as my head snaps back from the blow. I shake my rattled noggin, trying to clear away the stars and the unwitting tears. I try to focus on the ugly face in front of me. I need to see what he’s about to do. He looms over me, so near I can smell his sour breath and it makes me gag. He holds the knife dangerously close to my chest, his eyes filled with burning anger.
"You little bitch. You’re going to pay for that."
"Hey! Let her go!"
The yell from the mouth of the alley draws Stinky's attention, and that moment is all I need. I don't miss this time as my boot delivers a punishing blow to his private bits. A stupefied expression of agony replaces the hateful sneer on his face as he drops the knife and falls to his knees with a loud moan.
No time for hesitation, I bring my boot down with a crushing force on the runt's instep. He cries out in pain and releases my arms. I whirl around, not giving him time to recover, and bring my open-palmed hand up hard into his nose. I hear the sickening crunch of broken bone and his screams as crimson liquid spurts out. He staggers for a couple of steps and then crashes to the ground in a crumpled heap, his hands covering his smashed face. The bigger one is still on the ground, curled up with his knees almost to his chest. I lunge at him, my boot kicking him again and again in the stomach, the leg, the arm, any place I can. I'm screaming at him now, but I cain't help it. I'm so furious. He’d tried to kill me.
I kick him in the ribs, and he screams as I hear 'em crack with the contact.
"That's for hittin' me!"
Another kick to the ribs.
"That's for tryin' to gut me with my own knife!"
I pull my leg back for another kick.
"Tara. Stop."
One of my arms is caught in a tight grip as I swing wildly with the other fist, but I don't get a chance to make contact. My fist is grabbed in mid-air before the punch can land, and I stare furiously into a set of sky blue eyes. Eyes that I know so well. Confusion sets in, stilling my attack.
"Jax?" I say stupidly. How can Jax be here when he’s in Gray Valley?
"Aye, it's me. Now, let's get the hell out of here before the Army shows up. The screams are sure to have attracted attention."
Still in total shock at what had just gone down, I mutely let him start to lead me away. But then I remember my knife. Vi, Jax’s ma, had given me that knife. I ain't leaving without it. Against Jax's cussin' objections, I pull away and head back, grabbing the wildfowl laying on the ground and my knife, ignoring the two moaning bodies lying there. But suddenly my anger rears again, and I give Stinky another swift kick as I pass.
"And that's for callin' me bitch … bitch!"
I follow Jax out of the alleyway, not bothering to look back. They ain't in no condition to follow after us.
Too bad the same cain't be said about the Army. As soon as we exit outta the alley, we spot five or six of the brown-robed soldiers making their way through the massive crowd. It’s the same bunch that had been doing the flesh trading earlier. Jax is right. Even in a place as corrupt as Littlepass, the thieves' screams still garnered their attention. I know the moment they see us coming outta the alley 'cause the shouts of "Halt!" pierce the air.
We do just the opposite. Jax grabs my hand and grunts, "Run," in my ear, and we do just that. I hang on to him for dear life as he bowls over the people in our way. For once, I’m grateful for the massive sea of bodies in the market slowing down our pursuers.
Trying in vain to lose ourselves in the crowd, we take advantage of a break in the flow and change direction, veering up a side street. An old man, arms laden down with a basket full of oranges, unfortunately turns outta the street at the same time. Jax swerves at the last minute narrowly missing him, but I ain't so lucky. My shoulder rams the basket and he loses his grip on it, the oranges flying out everywhere. We don't stop running or even look back, but I'm pretty sure from the cussin' hurled at us, my children and their children are now destined to be cross-eyed and pox-ridden. Great. Just what I need; another curse.
We run blindly through the narrow alley, my heart beating outta my chest as I pray in my head it ain’t a dead end. Thankfully, we stumble out onto another crowded square. We circle ‘round the maze of stalls, no clear destination in mind, just desperate to get away from the pounding footsteps echoing behind us.
Another shout of, "Stop! In the name of the Prezedant," reaches my ears, but it only makes me run faster. Fat chance of that happening, I think.
I quickly lose track of where we are. I’ve no idea. The streets are all starting to look the same. The sweat rolling down into my eyes is making it kinda hard to see and the stitch in my side hard to breathe, but still we don't slow down.
Suddenly Jax yells over his shoulder, "In here," an instant before my arm is almost yanked outta joint, and I’m dragged into a crevice between two buildings. It's so damn narrow we have to shuffle through sideways. The alley angles at the back of the building and leads us to a set of stone steps heading down to lower ground. Not quite sure where this is gonna take us, but it ain't like we got much choice. Taking the steep stairs two at a time, we end up on a narrow platform underneath a crumbling stone bridge. Taking care not to fall into the brown, sluggish excuse of a river, we press ourselves into the moss-covered wall, hidden from anyone passing by overhead.
Our panting echoes back at us in the small confines of our refuge. I bend over, trying to catch my breath and listening intently for any sign of our pursuers. We don't hear any tell-tale footsteps or shouts. It don't sound like anyone is following us anymore. We lost 'em.
"You're bleeding," Jax whispers, and I finally look up into the face I thought I’d never see again.
Like me he’s sweating from our run, the rivulets mixing with the layers of dust, causing brown streaks of dirt to blend with the stubble covering his lower jaw. He’s dirty, sweaty, and looks like he ain't slept in days. To me, he never looked so good. I find myself itching to reach out and touch his face and wipe the dirt away, but I clench my hands tight at my side and flinch as he gently tries to wipe the blood from my lip. The touch shoots a spark through my lip, and I jolt upright.
"I'm fine," I say, my words sharp as I knock his hand away. "It's nuthin'. I'll heal quick enough. What the hell are you doin' here?"
He responds to my harsh question with a halfhearted grin. "Nice to see you too, freak."
"Seriously, Jax," I say, baffled by everything that had just happened. "Where did you come from? I thought you went back to Gray Valley weeks ago."
"I did," he says simply. "And now I'm back. Just in time to find you beating the shite out of two thieves like some warrior princess and get chased by the Army. I'd almost forgotten how there’s never a dull moment around you."
Just in time to find me? Had he been following me? And did he really just call me a warrior princess? What the hell is that supposed to mean?
"How did you find me?"
"We just missed you at Sanctuary. The guard there told me you'd be at the flesh trade in the market. I caught sight of you at the butcher's stall, but then I lost you in the crowd. Not until I heard the screams did I track you down to that alley. I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner," he says, the anger on his face directed at himself. His obvious concern for my safety reflects in his blue eyes as they stare into mine, and it sends warmth flooding over me.
Tearing his eyes away, he runs his hands over his face, wiping away the sweat. "Look, I know you must have a hundred questions, and I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now … but something’s happened."
My heart jumps into my throat. What now?
My fear must be evident since he rushes to reassure me. "No, not to any of your kin but—"
A loud thumping on the bridge above our heads silences what else he’s about to say as he pushes me back against the wall. We don’t move, not even
to breathe, but whatever caused the ruckus passes on without incident and I draw in air.
"Tell me," I whisper once I know we’re alone again, but he shakes his head.
"We need to get back to Sanctuary. It's not safe out here. I'll explain everything there."
I know he’s right. We have to get offa the street. The Army won't give up the chase that easy. So I follow him again, not pestering him with a word, although there are a thousand thoughts runnin’ through my head right now. But the one that screams the loudest? Jax is back.
2
The Plan
Flip meets us at the gate, the relief in his eyes evident at our appearance.
"Good, you found her all right then. The others are waiting for you inside."
What others? Who’s here? What’s going on? There ain't no time to ask any questions as Flip hurries us both inside and closes the gates behind us with a resonating clang. It spooks me something fierce. I ain't ever seen the gates locked since I'd been here, and the sound reminds me of some death toll. Even though the day is still very warm, I cain’t help the cold shiver that passes over me causing my skin to pebble. I have a sinking feeling that what I’m about to find out is not going to be good news.
We don't see anyone as we enter; the white hallway is completely empty. But I know that if something big is going on, they would gather in the book room or library as Lily called it. I’m right. We find a whole crowd of people waiting for us in there. Lily, Mack, Zoe, Riven, them I expected. But I’m thrown for a loop to see the two crazies from the dead city there as well. What are their names again? Talbert and Beanie. That's it. What the hell are they doing here? And is Orakel here too? I scan the room, but there ain't no sign of the withered old woman.
"Mistress!" Talbert flies across the room at my entrance and falls at my feet like he ain't had a drop of water in weeks and I’m a full waterskin. Embarrassed to have everyone witness this, I nudge him with my boot.
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