“I guess we’ll just find a car hire place and wing it from there.” I nabbed a few pigeons and sent them soaring over the watery city, looking for what I needed. From the air, the city appeared to have been designed by a drunk, with canals zigzagging in all directions. Buildings sprung up between them with little rhyme or reason, crammed into any available dry space. I even saw one that was triangular, clinging to a tiny space where three canals converged.
The canals were full of traffic, though all of it was man-powered. Some people stood and propelled their flat-bottomed boats with long poles that they drove into the bottom of the canal. Others rowed. Nowhere did I see a single motorboat or hear the roar of an engine. The only engine noises I could hear were faint, coming from cars in the distant New City. Here in the Old, the lap and slap of water and the cries of the boatmen filled the air.
Every home or business that we passed had a small jetty out front with a boat tied up to it. Small lanes ran among the buildings, but they weren’t wide enough for vehicle access, so people either walked or took to the canals. I thought about stealing a boat as we trudged along narrow lanes, but the canals were too busy, filled with the splash of oars and the voices of the boatmen as they navigated the waterways.
I had one of my pigeons circle round to check on Weasel Face. After the debacle in Crosston, every fireshaper was suspect. If he was in league with the shadow shapers, he could even now be telling them of the strange new arrivals in the city.
I saw the skirt of his white robe disappearing back into the gloom of the temple. Perhaps he was a loyal child of Apollo, going back about his business. Or perhaps he was heading inside to grab a phone and rat us out to the shadow shapers. It was impossible to tell using pigeon-cam. All I could say was that he hadn’t followed us across the square, despite his apparent interest in where we were going.
I could not say that, however, for the supplicant who had stopped to speak with him on the steps. He was halfway down the alley we’d taken between the two temples, hot on our heels. Dammit.
“May the fleas of a thousand camels infest his armpits,” I muttered.
“What’s wrong?” Syl asked.
“We’ve got a tail. Why is nothing ever easy?”
She and Lucas both looked back, but the guy was too careful to be seen.
“I can make it easy,” Lucas growled, the yellow of the wolf glowing in his eyes.
“He might not be working for the shadow shapers,” Syl said. “Maybe the watershapers like to keep an eye on odd visitors to their city.”
“Who are you calling odd, you weirdo?” But my mind was only half on the conversation; the other was in the air, watching our stalker, plotting our way through the chaotic alleys and paths of the watershaper city.
“Doesn’t matter who he works for,” Lucas said, “we still don’t want him following us.”
“Hold that thought for a little longer,” I said. “There’s too many people here. We’re coming up to a quieter patch.”
A small, localised wave was moving down the canal beside us, pushing a large boat before it. A man and a woman sat in the back, deep in conversation. One of them must be a watershaper. No one was steering the boat—in fact, it had no wheel or rudder that I could see, and yet it navigated deftly through the traffic on the busy canal. I did notice that a lot of the smaller boats did their best to get out of the way. Perhaps watershapers weren’t always as careful as they could be of other users of the waterways.
A smaller canal branched off the main one, and we followed it around a corner. The way was gloomier, the tall buildings on either side of the water seeming to lean over it and block out the sun. It was a long way to the nearest jetty. The canal walls, covered in moss and grime, rose high above the water. A lone boatman poled his boat through the green gloom, almost out of sight further down the canal.
I turned into an alleyway and stopped. “This would be a good spot for a swim.”
Lucas nodded, and moved to stand at the very corner, a predatory gleam in his eye. I watched our stalker through the eyes of a bird on the roof of the building across the canal. After a long pause, he rounded the corner from the main canal. When he realised we were no longer in sight, his stride lengthened, and he hurried towards the alley where we waited. When he was close enough, I nodded to Lucas and the werewolf stepped abruptly around the corner.
A cry of surprise was followed by a splash as our friend took an unscheduled dip. Lucas looked pleased with himself when he rejoined us.
“Let’s go,” I said. “It’s still a long way.”
Weasel Face had told us that real roads began away from the temple precinct, but I hadn’t realised quite how long it would take to get there through the chaotic Old Quarter. Cerberus drew many curious and fearful glances on the way, and I began to regret bringing him. We were too noticeable. Any of these people could be shadow shapers, or informants. Three such huge dogs were unusual enough to be reported. I was dizzy, trying to watch every direction at once, suspecting everyone I saw—but at least no one else followed us.
I tried to quiet my fears. Maybe they would think he was some kind of shifter. And even if the shadow shapers heard of him, why would they assume he was linked to the giant three-headed dog that had attacked them in Newport? They had no idea he could split himself into three. But every person who stopped to stare as we passed added to my unease. It was a relief to hear the sounds of normal traffic at last, and to find the car rental place.
“About time,” Syl said. “My feet are killing me.”
She and I waited outside with Cerberus while Lucas went in to hire a ute. There was an older model in the carpark with a bench seat that the three of us could squeeze into. The tray looked big enough to take all three of Cerberus, though Lucas didn’t mention to the man behind the desk that he intended to load up the back with hellhound. In fact, there wasn’t much conversation at all. He said hello as he walked in, and then I heard the guy ask what he was doing in town.
“Minding my own business,” Lucas replied, in a dangerous tone that dared the other man to ask another question.
He didn’t. Silence reigned until Lucas came out, whistling, with the keys in his hand.
Driving proved to be a frustrating exercise in the watershaper city, with the roads almost as haphazard as the canals had been. An hour later, Lucas slammed his hand on the steering wheel in frustration. “This place is a nightmare.”
A map had come with the car, but I’d lost count of the number of times we’d got turned around. So many streets seemed to dead-end into canals. There weren’t nearly enough bridges.
“I’m sick of the sight of bloody water,” Syl said.
It wasn’t restricted to the canals. Every second house boasted a fountain, or an elaborate ice sculpture. Despite the warmth of the sun, they didn’t melt, held in place by watershaping magic. Many of the larger buildings had what could only be called icicles hanging from their roofs, though they were like no icicles I’d ever seen before. They swirled and split, forming intricate, lace-like patterns.
“It is a watershaper city,” I pointed out. “You’d have to expect there to be a bit of water.”
“What have the bastards got against bridges?” she said. “They can keep their stupid water, just give me a way to get over it.”
I shrugged. “They’re shapers. Other people’s convenience isn’t high on their list. The canals suit them, so why would they care?”
The sun was high overhead by the time we fought our way through the maze of the New City and out into the suburbs. Once we’d made it to the general vicinity of the shadow shapers’ address at Sanctuary Point, we checked into the first motel we saw.
Much to his disgust, I hustled Cerberus inside, out of sight. “We’re going to have a quick look at this place in daylight,” I said. “Just to find out where it is. You stay here until we get back.”
He sat down, all three of him in a row, staring at me with mutinous red eyes. I sighed, and put my arms around the neare
st neck. Even sitting down, he was nearly as tall as I was. He just stood out too much. There was no point drawing attention to ourselves before we’d even begun. “Please, buddy. I promise we’ll come back for you before the fun starts.”
He grunted and licked my neck, which I took as agreement.
Back in the car, the three of us headed for Sanctuary Point. There was plenty of water here, too, but the roads were wider and easier to navigate. Sanctuary Point turned out to be an enclave of luxury homes on narrow fingers of land with a network of canals running between them. Each “finger” ran off the central spine of a broad avenue.
Most of the homes were on huge blocks, but there wasn’t much to see from the street due to the walls that shut out the rest of the world from millionaires’ paradise. Each property boasted a huge fence, often with cameras mounted on top. Some offered glimpses of the luxury within through wrought-iron gates, but most seemed to value their privacy too much to let the lesser mortals catch even a glimpse of their extensive grounds, all hidden behind solid steel or timber gates.
The house we were interested in was near the end of one such row. We drove past and turned around at the end of the street, then cruised past again. Two cameras sat above its gate, one on each side, watching the street with their electronic eyes. They would likely think us tourists out to gawk at the rich, if they took any notice of our lowly rental car at all.
I latched onto a flock of rosellas nearby and sent them whirling over the wall. The grounds were massive. That was no surprise. I took quick stock. Plenty of trees, though there was a clear zone around the house, unfortunately. A tennis court, but no pool? That seemed odd, until I caught a flash of blue on the second storey. Nice. The swimming pool was built into the side of the house. Hope they didn’t have any leaks. That would be a bastard to fix. I wondered what was underneath it—garages, perhaps?
The house itself was huge. Three storeys of luxury, balconies and terraces all round, plenty of glass so the lucky occupants could admire the view. Was Hades looking out one of those windows right now?
Unlikely. They’d have him locked away somewhere, if he was here. They’d be even more nervous than usual after Apollo’s prison break—the last thing they wanted was a repeat performance.
“See anything interesting?” Syl asked, as we drove away down the street.
“Big grounds,” I said. “Fences on three sides, but it’s open to the water.” Strange that there was no security on that side, but I supposed they didn’t want to spoil their million-dollar view. The house was situated to make the most of it and the access to the canal. The canals here were much wider than they’d been in the city centre, and they all fed into a sheltered bay. The smell of sea salt came in the open car windows, giving me a sudden pang of homesickness for Berkley’s Bay. “There’s a decent-sized boat shed next to the jetty, but no boat.”
“They’re probably using it.”
“Probably. Let’s come back tonight and approach from the water. I don’t need to get close to their cameras to have a good look inside.”
They agreed to come back after dark, so we returned to the motel. After lunch, I laid on the too-soft mattress in my room and tried to sleep. Cerberus approved of this idea and stretched out all over the room, crowding the floor with dog. Syl and Lucas retired to their room but, judging from what I could hear through the thin wall that separated us, they weren’t trying to sleep.
I sighed and tried not to think about Jake. Soon. Just one more big effort and I would see him again.
10
We hit a takeaway joint for dinner once it got dark. Syl got a funny look from the guy behind the counter when she asked him why there were no motorboats on the city’s canals.
“Shapers won’t allow them,” he said. “Too noisy.”
Figured. Watershapers didn’t need them, so why would they make life easier for the others who lived in their city? We saw one as we walked back to the motel beside a well-lit canal. Or, at least, we saw his boat. It was a large cruiser, with a group of people drinking champagne on the rear deck. A small wave rose up behind the boat, constantly renewed, pushing it down the canal at a great rate, leaving the other muscle-operated rowboats and punts rocking in its wake.
At midnight, we figured it was late enough to make our move. The city was considerably quieter as we took to the road. We turned off before we reached the house, and parked near an access point to the canal. Cerberus leapt down from the tray when we got out. The car rocked almost as much when his weight left it as those little boats had.
We were in the parking lot of a small park. A children’s playground loomed out of the darkness, deserted now, of course. A few scattered trees probably provided nice shady picnicking spots during the day.
I patted my pocket to make sure I had the key to the collars still. My knives were in their sheaths, and I had my lock picks in another pocket. Ready to rock and roll. We headed to the water’s edge and followed it toward the house we wanted, moving easily in the dark.
A tall fence ran right to the canal’s edge, dividing the park from the house next door. We hung out over the canal as we swung carefully around the end of the fence. I wondered how Cerberus would manage, but he solved the problem by leaping the fence instead, clearing it with room to spare. There were no lights showing inside the house. Either they were all asleep or there was no one home. Some of these places were probably only holiday homes and not their owners’ main residence, rich as they were.
The fence on the far side of the property ran right out into the water, and stood well above even Lucas’s head. He cursed as he looked up at it. “I’m a wolf, not a bloody monkey.”
Syl eyed the water doubtfully. Most cats hated getting wet, and she was no exception. Sure, she could take such a long shower that she used all the hot water in our little tank in the apartment, but cold water was a no-no. “Looks like it’s climb or swim.”
He grumbled, but managed to scramble over with a running start. But when we arrived at the other side of the property and found an even taller fence extending out into the water, he growled and turned around.
“Where are you going?” Syl hissed.
My night vision was good, since I had connected with Cerberus to boost it. I saw him descend a set of steps onto a jetty. A small rowboat was tied up there.
He grinned back at us. “The oars are here. All aboard!”
“There could be anything in that water,” Syl objected.
“That’s why we’re using the boat,” he said patiently. “No one’s going in the water.”
“What if there are crocodiles?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Brenvale isn’t tropical enough for crocs.” Of course, there might be sharks—the canals were salt water, and I’d heard that bull sharks were occasionally sighted—but I wasn’t going to mention that. For all I knew, the watershapers had figured some way to keep them out of their city. Besides, Lucas was right—we were boating, not swimming.
He held the boat steady and offered a hand to Syl. “Hop in.”
“It’s not very big,” she said doubtfully. “What about Cerberus?”
We all turned to look at the three dogs. She was right—there was way too much dog for the size of the boat. They cocked their heads in unison and stared back, red flames dancing in the depths of their dark eyes.
“Can you handle the fences, buddy?” I asked. “You could follow us along the river bank.”
*PUNY FENCES,* he said, which I took as a yes.
“That’s settled, then. He’ll follow on land.”
“Good. Come on, Syl.” Lucas motioned her towards the boat. She stepped onto the jetty as if she thought it would give way under her weight. “The boat’s big enough for three of us. You’re the smallest—hop in up the front, there.”
Still she hesitated, so he swept her up in his arms and deposited her in the bow. She gave a muffled squawk and held very tightly to both sides as Lucas and I got in.
Lucas took the oars,
and sculled quietly away from the jetty. The night sank down on us, cool and very dark. There was no moon, and the banks were only darker shapes in the blackness sliding past on each side. Lucas made almost no noise as he rowed, the blade of each oar cutting the water cleanly.
“This is probably close enough,” I said once we had passed a few more houses. “Stop here while I check the place out.”
“Good,” said Syl, her voice still grumpy. “Can we get out now?”
Lucas rested on the oars for a moment, leaving the little boat to drift silently down the canal. “I’d like to get closer. I want to check out the terrain myself while you’re searching inside.”
“Lexi can tell you whatever you need to know,” Syl said.
“She’s not a hunter,” he said. “She won’t see what I see.”
I rolled my eyes at such typical shifter prejudice, but no one noticed in the dark. “Fine,” I said, before they could get into an argument. “We’ll get closer.”
Lucas closed the distance between us and our target in strong, easy strokes. The shadow shapers’ property glowed like a beacon in the dark, the only place still lit up. Syl clung to the sides of the boat as if she were on a rollercoaster.
I shifted on my seat to balance the boat better and she gave me a sharp glance. “Sit still. You’ll tip us over.”
“It’s perfectly safe,” Lucas said, leaning into his stroke with a skill that showed this wasn’t his first time in a boat. “We’re not going to tip over.”
It made no difference. She continued to watch the smooth, dark surface of the river with deep distrust until I directed Lucas to pull in under some overhanging willows on the far side of the river from the shadow shapers’ house, beyond the range of their lights. We weren’t directly opposite, but close enough for Lucas to check the place out to his heart’s content.
The top floor of the house was dark, but the rest of it was well lit. Even the grounds were bright, though no one was outside. The tennis court was ablaze, and ornamental lamp posts lit a paved path that led from the lowest terrace to the tennis court and past it all the way to the boat shed and jetty. A couple of rowboats were tied up there now, not much bigger than ours.
Hidden Goddess (Shadows of the Immortals Book 4) Page 10