by Heidi Lang
“Lailu!” Hannah yelled. “Let me in!”
Lailu scrambled to the door and unlocked it. Hannah flew in, her hair tangled, face red.
“Did you run here?” Lailu asked, shocked. Hannah was not really the biggest fan of exercise.
“I . . . came to warn . . . you,” Hannah panted. She glanced back. “Close the door!”
Lailu slammed it shut.
“I saw you . . . come in here,” Hannah managed, wheezing. “Been looking all over . . . for you.” She looked at Ryon.
Ryon blinked. “Me?”
“Starling told me . . .” Hannah took a deep breath. “Starling told me they set a trap for you.”
“What?” Lailu demanded. “Why? And why would she tell you?”
Hannah pushed her sweaty hair back from her face. “They got ahold of some of his blood, and it’s been extremely useful to them, far better than the pure elf blood they had before. And she told me because she trusts me.” Hannah glanced at Ryon. “I played up my dislike of the elves, like you suggested.”
“Clever girl,” Ryon said.
“Excuse me, but who are you?” Paulie moved out from behind Lailu, her purple eyes narrowed, hands on hips.
Hannah straightened.
“This is my best friend, Hannah,” Lailu said quickly, not understanding the sudden thickening in the air.
“Hannah. Is that right?” Paulie’s smile was not warm or comforting.
“Wait, I’m so lost,” Greg spoke up. “Why would the scientists want Ryon’s blood?”
Ryon frowned. “Because I’m half elf—”
“You’re what?” Greg looked like he was going to fall over.
“How can I work in these conditions?” Ryon muttered. “As all the intelligent members of this room know, I’m half elf, so I have a few unique . . . abilities the scientists are interested in.”
Greg scowled.
“You can neutralize magic,” Lailu realized. “I saw you stop Eirad’s magic, and you were able to fix Greg.”
“Ah, and did I even get a thank-you?” Ryon stared pointedly at Greg.
Greg swallowed. “Thanks,” he muttered. For some reason, he’d never really warmed up to Ryon.
“Greg’s gratitude is not the point,” Lailu snapped. “Stay on topic for once, would you? What else can you do?”
Ryon sighed. “Not much. Like you saw, I can neutralize elven magic. I can see through it, and if I’m touching something that’s been enchanted, I can undo that enchantment. But it’s very limited. Only things I touch or see directly. But it’s the reason why some like Eirad don’t . . . entirely trust me.”
“Plus you move with the speed of an elf,” Lailu said.
“Probably has elven hearing, too,” Hannah suggested.
Ryon looked even more uncomfortable. “Let’s not speculate, okay? I don’t make a habit of sharing this kind of information.” He glanced around at the crowded room. “Usually,” he amended.
“Enough chitchat,” Hannah said. “You need to leave. Now. Before Starling figures out where you’ve gone.”
“Why? Is she going to send someone to collect me?” Ryon smirked. “I’d like to see them try.”
Lailu remembered the way Wren’s spidery invention had attacked him, and how he’d been unable to do anything about it. “You should go,” she said. “Just in case.”
“Is Starling really going to come after me now? She’s got her hands full playing the hero, don’t you think?”
Outside they could still hear the occasional shriek, but it was getting less frequent.
“This was her whole plan,” Hannah said softly. “She found out the elves were going to do something tonight, something big.”
“How?” Ryon asked.
Hannah fidgeted. “Gwendyl,” she admitted. “I think . . . before she died . . . she talked.”
Ryon’s expression hardened. “You mean Starling made her talk.”
Lailu shivered. What had Starling done to get answers out of an elf? And this was the woman Hannah worked for?
“Starling planned to use the chaos tonight as a cover to kidnap you,” Hannah finished.
Ryon crossed his arms, clearly not leaving. Why was he being so stubborn about this?
“Ryon, please,” Hannah begged.
“No way. If I run now, I’ll have to keep running. You really think Starling is going to stop after tonight? If she wants me, she can try to get me.”
Bam-bam. Bam-bam. Bam!
Everyone turned and looked at the door. Too late, Lailu realized she hadn’t locked it again.
The door flew open.
39
NO ESCAPE
Vahn leaped inside, filling the small space and striking a heroic pose, chest out, head up, hair flung dramatically back to flow down his shoulders in a golden river. “Paulie, I’m here to rescue you!” He drew his sword.
“Rescue me?” Paulie blinked. “From what? And close the door, would you?”
“The scientists have your shop surrounded. They told me you’re being held hostage by an elf. . . .” Vahn trailed off, finally looking around the room. “Hannah?” His heroic pose collapsed like a badly made cake. “What are . . . what are you doing here?” He put his free hand to the back of his neck, glancing from Hannah to Paulie and back.
Lailu slipped behind Vahn and kicked the door closed, remembering to lock it this time.
“You know each other?” Paulie asked, voice sugary sweet.
“Er, yes, a bit,” Vahn said.
“A bit?” Hannah’s eyebrows shot up so high they vanished into her hairline. She tilted her head, studying Vahn’s reddening face.
“Not to interrupt what promises to be a dramatic and entertaining exchange, but can we get back to the part where the scientists have surrounded us?” Ryon asked quickly. “I’m pretty sure the rest of . . . this”—he waved his hands vaguely at Hannah, Paulie, and Vahn—“whatever it is, can wait.”
“Yes, exactly right,” Vahn said heartily.
“It’s not too late, Ryon,” Hannah said. “You could sneak out, blend in, escape. I’ve seen you do it.”
Ryon shook his head. “I’ve made up my mind.” He looked around the room. “That doesn’t mean the rest of you need to get involved. I don’t want anyone else hurt.”
“Oh, please,” Paulie scoffed. “Most of us can take care of ourselves just fine.” She patted her belt, and Lailu suspected she had some sort of magical vials in there. Lailu inched away from her.
Knock-knock-knock.
“Hey? Hello in there?”
Lailu recognized that voice: Neon, inventor of the camera.
“I hate to interrupt, but the king has charged us with the safety of these city streets, and we are certain you are harboring one of those pointy-eared mayhem-creators.”
“ ‘Pointy-eared mayhem-creators,’ ” Ryon mused softly. “I like it.”
“Stop it,” Lailu hissed. “This is serious.” She wasn’t afraid of Neon, but all the scientists combined? Her whole body felt like a pot just about to boil. Focus, Lailu, she told herself firmly. She’d dealt with a hydra. She could come up with a plan for this. She had to.
“Open your door,” Neon said.
“No,” Lailu called. “Go away, Neon.”
Silence.
“What’s the holdup?” someone asked. Lailu didn’t recognize his voice.
“They won’t open the door,” Neon said, sounding hurt.
“Then make them open it, or you’ll have to face Starling. You’ll have to tell her that you failed. . . .”
“You could help me, Argon,” Neon said desperately.
“And get tainted by this brush of failure? No thank you. I like my life. I want to stay in it a bit longer.”
“Please, Argon! You know she’s just looking for an excuse to get rid of me.”
“I don’t want her to think I’ve aligned myself with you and your little mutiny,” Argon said. “I saw how that worked out for your buddy, Carbon. Sorry, friend, but
you are on your own.”
Neon went back to pleading at the door, occasionally rattling the handle, and muttering to himself. But Lailu’s attention was caught by something much more important.
Click. Click. Whirr . . .
It sounded like it was coming from somewhere behind them. “Paulie, do you have a back door to your shop?” Lailu asked.
“I . . . have a trapdoor in my kitchen,” Paulie admitted. “It’s not safe to have only one way out of your house. Not when so many people here are mistrustful of us magic users.” She glanced sideways at Greg. He flushed and looked down at his feet. “But no one can find it. It’s very well hidden.”
“By magic?” Lailu suggested.
“Which the scientists are now able to neutralize?” Hannah added.
Paulie’s mouth fell open. “Oh.”
Crash!
Lailu whirled. An automaton had just burst into the kitchen.
Paulie reacted first, pulling a vial from her belt and hurling it at the automaton. It staggered back as a purple cloud floated around it. The color sizzled and flared . . . and then faded.
Click. Whirr. Click.
The automaton stepped forward, its blue eyes blazing triumphantly.
“That’s not good,” Paulie whispered. “That was one of my strongest potions.”
“They must be coated in some sort of mal-cantation mixture,” Lailu said.
Vahn leaped in front of them. He did a fancy forward flip, drew his sword in midair, and slammed the flat of the blade into the metal creation, knocking it to the side. It lurched back up immediately, staggering toward Vahn.
Click.
Knives extended from its fingers, and it swiped them at his face.
Vahn parried, then smacked his blade into the automaton again, sending it reeling. It was down for less than a second before it shot back to its feet.
“The wires!” Lailu said. “You need to cut the wires behind its head.”
“I know!” Vahn shouted. “But they’ve been covered.”
Lailu moved closer, and now she saw it too: at the back of the automaton’s neck was a freshly installed metal grate keeping all its wires protected. This was an improved model. Even though Starling wasn’t responsible for the mutiny at the parade, it was clear that she had learned from it and had taken steps to ensure that no one could stop an automaton under her control.
Lailu didn’t have much time to worry about it, though, because already another automaton had stepped through the busted trapdoor. And then another. And another.
“Um, guys?” Lailu drew her knife.
Greg moved to stand beside her, his face gray but determined as he drew his own knife. Lailu hated to admit it, but she felt much more confident with Greg at her back. Even an injured Greg was more than a match for a couple of metal beasts.
The first automaton got past Vahn, and Lailu was ready for it. She darted in, slashing with her knife, then ducking as it swiped at her. As they circled each other, she studied that grate on its neck. It had to have other weaknesses.
Dimly she was aware of Ryon fighting two separate automatons, his movements as fast as ever as he tricked them into stabbing each other, their knives embedding in each other’s metal plating. Beside him, Paulie threw herbs and cast spells, but nothing seemed to work.
“Lailu, watch out!” Greg knocked her to the side as her automaton sliced the air inches in front of her. It spun, one of its metal hands grabbing Greg around the neck and lifting him off his feet.
“Greg!” Lailu stabbed her knife right through the tiny opening in the automaton between its arm and torso.
Sparks flared out, its hand opened, and Greg tumbled to the ground, gasping.
The automaton stumbled, its arm going up, then down, then up uncontrollably. “Stab them through the joints!” Lailu shouted. “It messes them up.”
“Yah!” Hannah leaped in brandishing a frying pan and slammed it into the automaton’s face. As it fell backward, Lailu stabbed it through the other arm joint, and it hit the ground, fizzled, and lay still.
“Thanks, Hannah,” Lailu said.
“Don’t mention it.” Hannah whirled the frying pan in her hands and spun to find her next target.
Pop!
Lailu turned, but too slowly.
The net caught her, Greg, and Hannah, slamming them together and down to the ground.
Pop! Pop!
Vahn and Paulie went down.
Ryon managed to dodge, the nets no match for his speed.
Neon stepped through the front door with three other scientists flanking him. As Ryon lunged forward, Neon tossed a handful of glittery powder.
It caught Ryon midstride. He coughed, spluttered, and then crashed to the ground next to Lailu.
“Ryon!” She thrashed against the net. Her knife couldn’t do anything against the metal fibers. She was trapped. Greg and Hannah struggled next to her, their arms and legs tangling with her own, making it even harder.
“I am truly sorry about this, but it can’t be helped.” Neon shook his head sadly. “Get him,” he ordered, and the automaton next to him stepped forward.
It looked down at Lailu as it passed, its blue eyes glinting beneath the rim of a familiar bowler hat. Then it hoisted an unconscious Ryon over one shoulder, turned, and left the shop, the front door closing softly behind it.
40
WREN DEFIANT
Lailu’s fingers were all cut up, blood making her grip slippery, but she was so close. Gritting her teeth, she twisted the metal ends one more time.
“Got it?” Hannah asked. She and Greg had moved as far away as possible, trying to stretch the end of the net so Lailu could work on opening it.
“Almost . . . almost . . .” Lailu slipped the metal coil off to the side, and the net opened. “Got it!”
“Wow, Lailu, you are amazing!” Hannah squealed, jumping to her feet and dancing around.
“I’d be more amazing if I could have stopped this from happening in the first place. Do you know where they’re taking Ryon?”
Hannah stopped jumping around. “I’ve been thinking about it, and it has to be Starling’s hidden workshop.”
“She has a hidden workshop?” Greg staggered out of the net and leaned against a wall for support.
“She mentioned it to me, but she didn’t tell me where it is,” Hannah said. “All I know is her most delicate experiments are done there. She said science is too important to be constantly under watch. I think she knew Lord Elister wouldn’t approve of everything she was doing.”
“Do you have any idea where it might be?” Lailu asked. “Any at all? Maybe Starling dropped some hint?”
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut, obviously thinking hard. “I . . . remember she complained about the stairs. She said it was a real challenge lugging her supplies up three flights of them.”
“Three flights of stairs . . .” Lailu frowned, thinking it over. There were plenty of buildings that were three stories tall.
Including . . . the Crow’s Nest.
“No,” Lailu whispered. But it made a certain poetic sense that Starling would have taken over Mr. Boss’s old hangout spot. No one would think to look for her there, and it was pretty well hidden behind the bar and up those creaky wooden steps. It would also explain why that automaton had a picture of the sign in its memory.
“What is it?” Hannah asked.
“I think I know where they are.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Greg asked.
“Um, a little help here first, maybe?” Vahn called out.
Lailu glanced back guiltily—she had almost forgotten about Vahn. He was stuck in the net with Paulie unconscious next to him.
“The net did something to her,” Vahn explained. “I think Paulie doesn’t respond well to its magic-canceling effect.”
“Oh, and I’m sure you know exactly what she responds well to,” Hannah said, sniffing.
“Not the time,” Greg whispered.
“Hmph.” Hannah
tossed her hair to the side and walked to the front door, waiting.
Lailu debated. It had taken her many precious minutes to get her own net open, and she wasn’t sure how much time Ryon had. She tried not to picture Wren’s den, the way those mystical creatures had been cut into pieces, each limb stretched out and labeled. What were they going to do to Ryon? Were they harvesting him for parts even now?
She made a decision.
“Greg, you stay here and help Vahn and Paulie,” she ordered.
“What? Why?”
“Because you can barely stand, let alone run. And I know you’ll take good care of them.”
Greg opened his mouth to argue.
“Please. Just trust me,” Lailu said. “We’re running out of time.”
Greg frowned, then nodded. “Okay. I trust you.”
Lailu turned to her friend. “Hannah—”
“I’m coming with you,” Hannah insisted. “I can help with Starling.” She slung the frying pan over her shoulder.
“Fine. Let’s go,” Lailu said.
“Wait!” Greg threw his arms around her.
Lailu froze, completely shocked as Greg pulled her against him in a tight hug.
“Be careful, Crabby Cakes, okay?” he whispered into her hair. Then he let her go.
Lailu stood there a second, not certain how she felt—definitely a little annoyed that he was bringing up her nickname, but also confused. As Greg’s cheeks reddened, she settled for unsure; she’d figure it out later. Then she turned, and together she and Hannah ran out the door and down the street toward the one building Lailu had thought she’d never have to see again: the Crow’s Nest.
“I have got to . . . get into . . . better running . . . shape,” Hannah panted.
“You could always come along on more hunts with me,” Lailu suggested as she jogged along next to her. “It’s amazing how fast you can run when a hydra’s after you.”
“I’ll pass,” Hannah muttered, adjusting her grip on her frying pan as she ran.
These streets were starting to look familiar, and Lailu knew they were close to Mr. Boss’s old hangout. It was impossible not to think of her last time here, when Mr. Boss had sent his lackeys to threaten her into spying on Elister and she’d been forced to make the journey out to the Crow’s Nest to give her report.