by Ally Shields
Esty woke from a restless night, shoved any lingering thoughts of Rhyden aside, and dressed hurriedly. She had better things to do than wallow in self-pity. Before dawn, she slipped an urgent note under Ellyn’s door to meet in the woods at 10:30. When her friend appeared on schedule, Esty filled her in on yesterday’s events and Rhyden’s deadline.
Ellyn looked puzzled at Esty’s description of the man outside the farmhouse. “Did he tell you his name?”
“No. Do you know him?”
“Maybe. It’s hard to be sure.” Ellyn flashed her a girlish grin. “Kind of hunky?”
“I’ll say. It was impossible to be frightened of those beautiful hazel eyes. Who is he?”
“Um, I’m not sure it’s my place to tell you his name, but you might have met our duchaen leader.”
Esty frowned. “But you said he wasn’t part of the violent group.”
“He isn’t. I know he’s not. I don’t know why he was there, but he had a good reason. I’ll tell him what Rhyden said and meet you back here in the morning. Same time?”
“I suppose,” Esty said doubtfully. “Maybe I should go to Captain Brunic now and make a clean breast of it.”
“Please don’t. Give us the extra time. It’s only two days.” Ellyn’s eyes pleaded with her, and Esty wavered.
After all, wasn’t this the same plea she’d made to Rhyden? “Well, OK. Two days. That gives your friend today and tomorrow. I can’t guarantee anything after that. But I’ll never give them your name unless you tell me to.”
Ellyn squared her shoulders. “I don’t care if you do. As long as they understand I don’t support the fighting. I’m not ashamed of who I am.”
Esty grinned. “Of course you’re not, and I’m delighted to call you my friend. You know, if the women were in charge around here, there’d be less trouble.”
That brought on a fit of giggles, and they strolled back toward the village, their anxious mood dispelled for the moment.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kam had never consumed so much coffee. Even her elven constitution complained about the large infusion of caffeine, and she found it hard to sit still. She was up pacing the Ryndel Guild Master’s office, while talking on her phone.
Kam, Seth, and Trystan had spent a busy forty-eight hours—most of it together at the Ryndel Guild—sifting through the myriad of reports and information coming in from her ten spotters and the scouts Trystan had deployed. A picture gradually unfolded, clearly showing the fugitives had been active around the world for at least a couple of months. Fast work in organizing. They’d only been on the run since August.
Based on Kam’s detailed instructions and video from prior sightings of elves cloaked in invisibility magic, the spotters reported previously ignored thefts of artifacts and new unexplained sightings at museums and ruins. In response to two of those reports, the trio transported to Istanbul—where they confirmed a museum intrusion had already taken place—and later to Tel Aviv on an apparent false alarm.
Despite those failures, it was only a matter of time until they had a confirmed live sighting.
Kam smiled as Trystan swore at his phone for the fourth or fifth time during the last hour. The Cyrilian portal had only been open to the human world a few months, and he wasn’t very familiar with the device. He kept accidentally cutting the connection in mid-conversation.
Seth appeared oblivious to both of them. He sat at Barrott’s desk running computer searches on museum break-ins, responding to text and e-mail reports, and reviewing photos from their people in the field.
Kam glanced at the clock on Barrott’s desk and rubbed a weary hand over her face. Six-thirty. She had to get some sleep tonight, but they were all running short. Those doing the legwork understood the importance of stopping the renegade band and were working around the clock to provide the best information they could. Kam increasingly worried another of her young spotters would be hurt and felt an almost compulsive need to stay in constant contact to assure herself they were fine.
She currently had Karel on the line, the female spotter watching the Smithsonian grounds in Washington, DC, in the middle of a cold December rain threatening to turn to sleet and snow. The museum complex had been identified as a probable target due to the large collection of obsidian pre-Columbian masks and tools. Most of the relics were carved from stone that was too modern or too impure to hold elven magic—but Jermon and Dreysel didn’t know that. On a second phone line, Kam was in touch with Tomas near the Saudi lava fields.
“Oh my god!” Karel stifled a shriek. “I think they’re here. Next to the Washington Monument.”
Kam froze in mid-stride. “Stay calm, and tell me what you see.”
Her abrupt tone drew Seth’s and Trystan’s attention. The Cyrilian stood and started toward her.
“Ghostly blurs, fading in and out. Just like on the video,” the spotter reported, her shaky voice betraying her heightened state.
“How close are you?”
“Not very. Maybe half a block.”
“Don’t get any closer or let them see you. Remember they already hospitalized one spotter. But try to watch where they go. We’re on our way. Call me if anything changes.” She spun toward the door. “The Smithsonian,” she said over her shoulder. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair and raced toward the portal.
“How many?” Seth leaped into the portal carrying his own jacket with Trystan beside him.
“She couldn’t tell. It’s amazing she even noticed them in the slushy evening rain.”
Within seconds they landed in the darkened sub-office of their export business in DC. Since this was only a sales office, no one was there at this time of night. They exited into the street.
“Damn, it’s cold and wet here,” Seth said, zipping his lightweight coat. He dug in his jeans’ pocket and handed Kam the seeker charm. “You’ll find her quicker if you use this.”
She nodded, pictured Karel in her mind, and turned until the charm began to glow. They activated their invisibility rings and ran in the indicated direction, their elven feet swiftly covering the distance to the National Mall.
It wasn’t a heavy rain, mostly an annoying sleet that melted on impact, but it was right on the temperature curve toward ice and snow. Another few degrees and it could turn into a problem. A light fog gave an eerie look to the statues and monuments. Even in this weather, several tourists wandered the area with heavy coats, ponchos, and umbrellas, determined not to waste their chance to view the famous landmarks. Due to the human presence, no one spoke until they located Karel huddled in the meager shelter of a tree near the sculpture garden. She jumped when they suddenly decloaked beside her.
“Gosh, you startled me.” She turned and pointed. “They went inside the Museum of Natural History. I already checked the Smithsonian website and brought up a map of the interior.” She handed Kam her phone and pointed to the screen. “There’s a special exhibit, including some obsidian statuary on the second floor.”
“Excellent work. Stay here and keep watch. Call me if they leave.” Kam and the two men studied the map a few seconds, then took off across the wide lawn. The museum had closed for the night, but Seth was a master at manipulating locks, and the absence of blaring sirens proved the renegade band had already found a way to silence the alarms. In any case, Kam didn’t have time to contact local authorities or worry about unauthorized access. They reached the front entrance and a moment later were inside next to the huge, simulated stone platform and African elephant that dominated the rotunda.
“I’m going up.” Kam pointed to the upper balconies, flexed her knees, and vaulted to the second floor using the ancient magic in her silver wristband. Seth teleported beside her via the Lormarc ring, leaving Trystan to find his own way. With his natural elven speed, he wouldn’t be far behind them.
They turned toward the southeast corner, which held the geology exhibits. Seth took the left side, she took the right. She passed the exhibit for the Hope diamond and stopped to p
eek inside. The priceless gem sat safely in the middle of its enclosure. Obviously the fugitives weren’t looking for monetary value. She moved on, skimming the glass showcases with her eyes, until she heard Seth call.
“Over here. They’ve already gotten what they came for.”
Trystan arrived almost as soon as she did, and they stared at two circular six-inch holes cut in the glass of a large, round display case. The special obsidian exhibit stood next to the permanent collection of volcanic rock. Many of the exhibit’s items were missing, leaving nothing except bare spots and small plaques. The pieces chosen appeared haphazard, as if the thieves had been in a hurry and grabbed whatever they could.
Kam’s phone buzzed.
“They just came out of the building,” Karel said.
“Where?”
“Front entrance.”
Kam had already vaulted over the balcony and was outside by the time Karel finished talking. She spotted the shadowy images ahead and started after them.
Seth fell in step beside her, his voice low. “No guns, unless necessary. I’d like to avoid the DC police, and our bows are much quieter.”
Something alerted the shadowy figures to their pursuit—or they were already spooked by seeing Kam and her companions inside the museum—and the fugitives suddenly bolted, fleeing past the Washington Monument and alongside the Reflecting Pool toward the Lincoln Memorial.
The humans on the mall grounds remained unaware of the intense, invisible chase going on around them, not even raising their heads as fugitives and pursuers sped past.
Kam glanced behind. Trystan had been delayed by the museum’s stairs, but he was a strong runner and not far behind. If she and Seth cornered the renegades, he’d be there to back up the capture.
But the rogue gang had other ideas. Two of them split off and cut behind the Vietnam Memorial Wall, the other three continued straight ahead and dashed up the fifty-eight steps of the massive temple sheltering Lincoln’s marble statue. Seth broke to the right and followed the two behind the Wall.
Kam bounded up the steps, skidded on the slippery marble at the top, and slowed to a walk just outside the entrance of the Lincoln Memorial. Lights were on inside and out; a sign noted it was open for viewing twenty-four hours a day. A National Park Ranger sat off to her left, and an older couple stood reading one of the inscriptions on the walls.
No elves. At least none visible. There didn’t seem to be many places to hide, except two open side rooms and what appeared to be a small gift shop. She peeked around the corner into the back of the side rooms first. Each had a maintenance door she assumed was locked to avoid unauthorized entry by the curious; an elevator door was on the left side. She turned and almost bumped into Trystan coming through the front entrance.
“Anything?” he asked so quietly she barely heard him.
“Not yet.”
A family of three came out of the gift shop, and Kam walked in that direction. It was the only concealed area on this level.
A loud oof came from behind her. She whirled to see Trystan’s shadowy figure hit the floor. She bent to help him, and an arrow whizzed over her head and thudded against the wall. The mother in the tourist family let out a screech. Kam heard someone mutter, “Idiot,” then the scurrying of feet moving quickly away as the Park Ranger shouted.
“Who did that? Everybody move outside, but watch your step.” The family rushed to the exit.
Trystan sprang to his feet, apparently unharmed. He dodged the exiting tourists and followed three shadowy figures moving away from the statue toward the elevator. Kam hesitated, tempted to grab the arrow and leave the Ranger with no tangible evidence of the incident, but Seth shouted her name from somewhere outside. She looked between the pillars. The fugitives who’d split off had circled around the Vietnam Memorial and were headed back toward her, Seth’s shadowy figure still in pursuit.
Oh, great, the tourists were right in the way.
Kam ran to the top of the main steps, leaving Trystan to deal with those going down the elevator. Seth had gained on the two figures he chased, but one broke toward the lower level handicapped entrance, and the other charged up the steps. Seth concentrated on the lower level; Kam braced to intercept the cloaked elf charging the stairs.
She glanced at the elderly couple making their way down the icy steps. An umbrella kept their heads dry, but they picked their way, carefully choosing each step. They were off to the side and should be clear of the conflict.
But instead of confronting Kam, the elf swerved and deliberately slammed into the old couple, knocking the woman off the end of the steps toward the lower level and sending the man and his umbrella tumbling forward.
Frightened screams ripped through the air, and Kam’s blood pounded in her ears. She sprang into the air, grabbed the old man around the shoulders, and broke his fall inches before his head would have struck the marble steps. Seth slid to a halt and caught the shrieking woman in his arms. The elf who’d nearly killed them jumped off the steps, landing less than five feet from Seth, and disappeared after his friend into the handicapped entrance.
By the time Kam and Seth set the elderly man and woman on their feet, the couple was nearly hysterical with fright. The woman flailed her arms at the invisible hands that had saved her. The Park Ranger rushed down the steps in answer to her screams, a squawking police radio in his hands. The lights of a mall police car already raced toward them.
Damn. This had gone bad so quickly.
Kam and Seth ducked into the lower entrance and swiftly searched the small rooms. No one—but the elevator appeared to be in use. Kam punched the buttons in frustration.
“Where’s Trystan? I’ll go around and head them off—”
The elevator swooshed open, and Trystan stepped out.
“Where’d they go?” Seth demanded.
“Transported. Through a temporary portal.” Trystan stepped back into the elevator, crouched, and patted the floor. “Feel this. They’ve erased the cross key symbols you use, but you can feel the residual magic. They must have set it up for a fast escape before they attempted the theft.” He looked up. “Exceptional planning.”
“Yeah, sounds like Uncle Jermon,” Seth said in disgust. He leaned over and touched the floor surface. “Not much trace left, but the portal itself proves he was here.”
Kam suppressed an urge to kick the wall. Sure it did. The Cyrilians didn’t use cross keys or temporary portals. “Nothing we can do now except get out of here. This area is going to be crawling with police, and the Ranger has an arrow to prove it wasn’t someone’s imagination.”
She looked out the door. In the last couple of minutes, the icy rain had turned to snow. The elderly couple sat on the steps, huddled under their broken umbrella. The Ranger spoke to them in a quiet voice, attempting to calm them. The woman continued to sob loudly, but approaching lights indicated the EMTs were on the way. Kam stepped out far enough to see the upper floor. Two officers were searching for intruders and would soon check the lower level.
“I think this is our chance,” she said over her shoulder.
They ran across the open lawn, the brown grass squishy underfoot from snow and slush. They kept up a swift pace until they’d reached the city sidewalks that led into the downtown district and the Ryndel sales office. As soon as possible, they slipped into a darkened alley and decloaked.
Kam sighed in relief at the sight of her companions. “I really hate to use the invisibility magic for long periods of time. You can’t see other cloaked individuals very well, and you can’t talk for fear of scaring people. We’ve already done enough of that tonight.” She shook her head. “That poor couple.”
“At least they’re safe and uninjured with quite a story to tell.” Seth shook the snow off his hair. “I’m more concerned about leaving the arrow behind. If we’re lucky, they’ll eventually conclude it was some kid prank.”
“There’s only one government guy who could tell them different,” she said. “He’s a couple thousand
miles away.” Agent Noah Crain, her CIA sometimes-handler in New Orleans, had seen a Cyrilian arrow before. To Kam’s knowledge, he was the only human who knew the elves existed. She turned to look at Trystan. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“I’m trying to understand what happened back there. And absorb the fact my brother is alive. It was Tad who tackled me.” Trystan wrinkled his forehead. “I think he intended to save me from being shot by the arrow.”
Kam looked at Seth and shrugged.
“You think it’s wishful thinking?” Trystan asked, catching the exchange. “Maybe so, but he knocked me down without trying to harm me. What other reason would he have?”
“Getting away. But at least you know he’s alive. The news should cheer King Radnor.”
Trystan sighed. “Yes. My father’s health has been up more than down since King Seliwyn’s visit. He has hope for Cyrilia again, but his days are numbered. This will ease his mind.” The prince gave them a rueful look. “I was so angry with Tad. He betrayed me, plotted against me. But I have to admit his survival pleases me.”
“It’s natural. He’s still your brother.” Kam loved her sister and would forgive her for anything. Of course, Esty wouldn’t test the limits by conspiring to kill her.
When Seth said nothing, Kam glanced at his grim face. His great-uncle had survived too. But no joy there. There’d never been any love lost between Jermon Lormarc and the rest of their clan. He’d always had a nasty disposition and a cruel kink in his behavior. Mass murder nearly a year ago had firmly placed him beyond the loyalty of family ties.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Esty paced the family sitting room of her parents’ home. She’d just returned from The Bookstore, and Ellyn had failed to appear again. It had been two days since she’d promised to meet. Was she in some kind of trouble? Esty hadn’t heard any alarming gossip, but what could have kept her friend away? Was Ellyn’s absence connected to the rebels? She bit her lower lip. Had she made a mistake not telling Captain Brunic about the meeting at the farmhouse?