Trickster’s Hunt

by Kel Carpenter

  I had my doubts, but I was in no position to argue. Any information was better than what we had. Pip’s role in this was far more important than we could have anticipated, but we needed more than he was apparently able to give.

  And he was, as predicated, following us.

  Amos seemed confident that he would share what he knew. Silas seemed confident that we could turn up some answers. I hoped the shady character we were searching for could share something of worth.

  I followed Amos through the residential streets of the northern areas of the suburb, leaving the busy Portobello Road far behind. The guy we were looking for was by no means a master criminal, but he fancied himself as one, dealing drugs, mixing with general reprobates, and trying to get his fingers into much larger pies.

  Crossing the road opposite the small block of flats he lived in, we were not surprised to see the cat stroll out from under a parked car. “Gentlemen.”

  “Hello, Pip. What’re you doing all the way out here?”

  The cat eyed Amos, his back twitching with annoyance at the abbreviation of his name. “Peregrine. Why are you here?”

  “We’re looking for the answers you refuse to give us, starting with Nicky.”

  Pip blinked and sat himself down in our path. “You would learn far more if you checked your history.”

  I tilted my head. “The problem there, Peregrine, is that there is rather a lot of it.”

  “You really are dull beings, aren’t you? For all your power, you lack even the most basic of common sense.”

  “Clearly. Where should we begin?”

  “What language do you speak?”

  I frowned. Of course, he would never give a clear answer, but there was finally a lead in that question. I turned on my heel and walked away. Amos glared after me. “Amos, come. We do not need to speak to Nicky.”

  “A shame, boys. It’s always a pleasure to do business with you.”

  Managing not to groan, I stopped in front of the slimy little prick and forced a smile. His eyes flashed, and he reciprocated, though his expression was more of a sneer. “Nicky. We are looking for someone, but it is unlikely you have seen them. Thank you, though.”

  Had I not met his grandfather, I would have never known of his Sicilian heritage looking at him now, dressed in black jeans, a sports t-shirt, and trainers, despite the weather. He was every inch the average wastrel. His grandfather had been a proud, if sketchy individual, whose reputation for being trustworthy among those he worked with closely had been legendary. Both feared and respected, he had carved out his reputation and sizeable income within a few short years of arriving in London, eventually retiring to a respectable postcode in Kensington.

  Nicky was not, and George had known, passing all his ill-gotten gains to an associate over his own grandson. He had abandoned all George’s practices, from the reliability to the respectable presentation and would sell information to anyone, even those who had worked with him, for the most meagre price if he believed he could gain from it. There was little love lost with that one.

  “Where’s your girlfriend?”

  Amos drew up at my side and looked him up and down. There was no need to look at him to know he was about to deck him. The mention of Maia ignited something in me, and I immediately went on the defensive. Amos grabbed my arm as I stepped forward, a warning not to arm myself.

  “What do you know of her?”

  The threat in my low growl was enough to have the little thug balk, but it did not last long. He regained his swagger as a half-smile formed on his pointy, arrogant face. “Now that’ll cost you, Rhett. You know the rules.”

  Amos was the one to grab him, the shirt almost tearing with the force, pulling him up close. “What did you hear?”

  The kid swallowed hard and I realised Amos had a kris angled at his ribs. “Alright, shit! Had a big guy here asking about a sexy blonde. Said she’d be hanging around with the three Egyptians. You’re the only Egyptians I know that are anything like him.”

  “What do you mean ‘like him’?”

  “Like…you…I mean he looks like you three look. Mate, seriously, that’s all I know.”

  Amos had increased the pressure of his blade, and he was so close their faces were almost touching. I heard the low rumble in Amos’s throat as I asked, “How did you meet, Nicky?”

  “H-he found me.”

  The knife was piercing his skin, judging by the way his voice had raised several octaves and the colour was draining from his face. Amos did not look satisfied with his answer, so I pressed on. “Where?”

  “Phone call. Said she was valuable to him. I did some asking, looking. Found her on her way to a hotel in Kensington. That was it.”

  Amos and I exchanged a glance and he released the kid, blade vanishing before it could be identified. “You have a number for us. This person contacts you again, you let us know.”

  Straightening his shirt, Nicky regained some of his composure and ran a hand through his slicked back hair, disturbing the carefully sculpted quiff. “Yeah. Yeah, will do, mate. Anything else you need you let me know, yeah?”

  Without another word, we walked by him, our shoulders brushing each of his, and we retraced our steps back to Portobello Road.

  Neither of us spoke, each considering everything Nicky had revealed. We walked quickly until we arrived in the busy main street, slowing to a stop where the cat was waiting atop a wall near a small pub.

  He lay sprawled on the white washed brick, looking down at us with a smug expression. “Now that, my friends, was a fortunate development.”

  My eyes narrowed. “In what way?”

  Amos stopped and leaned against the wall with the cat above his head. “Nicky is always an unfortunate development.”

  “Indeed.” The cat was no fan of the kid either, it seemed, but I was curious to know what he meant. “However, in this instance, you have a point of contact with your pursuer. An advantage, is it not?”

  Not, I decided.

  That someone knew of her location, and her connection to us, before she had even arrived in the hotel was worrying at best. She was being hunted down.

  “No. It is not an advantage. You were an advantage until this revelation. It now appears we are on an even footing with her pursuer.”

  The cat sniffed and looked down at me. “You hold the advantage still. The girl now has protection and S— those who wish her harm will have to deal with you before they can get to her.”

  I didn’t miss his mistake, but drew no attention to it. He was opening up, albeit slowly, and we could not afford to lose him now. “They want her dead, but what I do not know is why.”

  “Yes. It would be wise for you to retrace your steps, my friend.”

  Amos opened his mouth to ask what that meant, but I shook my head. He was already gone. “What now?”

  “I need to go back. I have books—”

  Amos rolled his eyes. It was never the action, but the sarcasm that irked me. “You’re going to read a book?”

  “Go back to the hotel. I will get what I need and meet you there.” I was in no mood for his attitude. Books contained knowledge, and that was what we lacked. With the books I could do as the cat had advised. It may have been several thousand years, but I could, indeed, retrace my steps.

  He sighed, but did as I said, walking into a dark alleyway, and disappearing.

  I walked the short distance to the shop, deep in my own thoughts, but I knew the cat was following. I found his presence comforting, knowing then that he truly was trying to help. He had told me precisely how to discover what we needed without revealing anything at all.

  The disappointment came from him not having said earlier.

  A hiss from above caught my attention and I looked up expecting to see Peregrine perched on a wall. The cat in question was not him and was balanced on the guttering of the building on my right, but it seemed to know me well enough.

  With my attention caught, it looked in the direction I had been heading an
d I realised the antique shop was only a few hundred yards away. It hissed again, and picked up speed, apparently urging me to hurry.

  I quickened my pace, wondering what could be happening to have brought a second feline to my aid, when the shop door banged open and Nicky strode out.

  A mixture of rage and dread filled my chest. The bastard knew of the shop. What that meant, I was not certain, but it could mean nothing good. Whoever he was informing knew enough about us to send him there, which suggested they knew what was hidden among the treasures Mrs. Barnes hoarded.

  I was forced to push my reactions away and focus. Before he had the chance to see me, I ducked to safety and vanished, making directly for our home. I could check the security of the place, collect what I needed, deliver them to Silas, and return to check on the old woman. It would take only moments, but keeping Maia and my brothers safe was my priority.

  After that, Nicky had some explaining to do.

  20

  Bastard. He knew it would hurt.

  I didn’t mean to kick him, and I suppose he had been trying to help. He’d been so supportive with the cat and making me breakfast. He hadn’t even seemed bothered at catching me in a compromising position with Rhett. There was just something about him that put me on edge sometimes.

  Like in the park. He was trying to help me. He did help me. I mean, he healed that whole horrible mess for me, and I freaked out and was horrible to him then, too.

  I felt a bit bad.

  Sitting on the edge of the bath, I lifted the cami top and examined my skin. The pain was completely gone from my hip. Had he done it with that little kiss?

  Why the hell had he kissed it?

  Why did they keep kissing me?

  And why was I hell bent on kissing them? Was I really that desperate that I’d rather throw myself at them than ask these very important questions?

  And I’d skipped a few. Like who were they? What where they? How did they know to find me in the spa? Why were they looking for me? Why were they following me around? Why did I feel the need to be around them? Why hadn’t I run home already, away from this fucking madness?

  I listened and heard nothing from the other side of the door. I stared at it for a few moments, wondering what I should do. I wondered if he’d have left. I would have if that had been me. I’d have walked away and never looked back. That brought a stab of panic in my chest and I rushed to the door. With my hand on the handle I paused and called to him.

  “Silas, are you there?”

  “Yes. I said I’d watch over you.”

  “I’m…I overreacted.”

  “Perhaps.”

  I probably imagined the amusement I thought I heard in his voice. There was very little to find amusing.

  “I’m a bit scared.”

  I heard something run over the smooth wood of the door and placed my palm on the wood on my side of it. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t understand any of it. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

  He didn’t reply, but I knew he was still on the other side. Waiting.

  Eventually I opened the door and found him leaning on the frame.

  “Can we start again?” He smiled. The relief of seeing him smile brought tears to my eyes and I pressed my thumbs beneath them. “This is fucked up.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t understand any of it.”

  Reaching out his hand, he watched me intently, waiting for me to take it. When I did, he led me back to the bed and sat me down before sitting up on the dressing table top. “I have some understanding. If you can listen, I can try to explain.”

  I nodded my head and pulled my legs up beneath me. He must have realised that I felt a bit exposed, because he reached over for his shirt and as he pulled it over his head, my legs were covered in a fresh pair of linen pants. When he was dressed, he held out his hand and I think I smiled when I reached to take the offered cup of hibiscus tea.

  With the mug safely between my hands, he pulled up his own legs, crossing them where he sat. He watched me take a sip, and I tried not to close my eyes and take a deep sniff of the fragrant drink. “Where would you like me to begin?”

  I shrugged. “At the beginning?”

  “It’s a very good place to start.”

  I snorted into my glass mug and took another sip, waiting for him to say something.

  “We woke one morning at home, together, unaware of who we were or where we were. There were no windows, no doors, but every luxury we could require. Time passed. Weeks. Months. We were not sure how long, but eventually Amos displayed an ability. It was incredible. We were discussing where we could possibly have come from, given that we were grown men and had simply awakened there, and he became irate. With a wave of his hand, he was armed with a Khopesh, the sword you’ve seen him wield before. From there, we discovered many other abilities.”

  “What did you eat?” I was getting hungry again. It always comes back to food with me. Always.

  “When?” He looked confused.

  “Before you could…magic…it. How did you get food if you were in a house with no windows or doors?”

  “We didn’t. Rhett was the first to notice that, but we never seemed to feel hunger or suffer the effects of starvation. It was Rhett’s first creation, in fact.”

  I looked up at him to see he was smiling, not with humour, but fondness at the memory.

  “We didn’t know what he’d created. We had nothing to reference it with, no recollection of what food was, what we liked or disliked, yet he produced a banquet. We ate like kings for weeks, despite not feeling hungry, before we became bored. We later discovered that the dishes he produced were from a specific time and place. It helped us piece together who we were.”

  I hugged my tea, listening to his recollection, and smiled with him. “But how did you get out?”

  “That was me. We had spent a considerable amount of time developing our gifts, with no use for them other than what purpose they served us. One day, I had a disagreement with Amos and he expressed his desire for me to be gone from that place.

  “I didn’t go far. I found myself in a dilapidated building made from what I now know to be mud. The roof had fallen in, the walls were crumbling, and the floor was under several inches of water. And there at my feet, was a small silver oil lamp. I had no idea what it was then, of course. I merely picked it up and studied it. Unsure of my surroundings, my immediate thought was that I would’ve liked my friends to be with me, including Amos, despite our disagreement. With that thought, they were there. Amos punched me. Rhett was furious with me. But we were free.”

  I just sat there blinking. He’d just told me what he was, like it was possible and believable and normal, and seemed to want me to say something.

  What was there to say? Should I laugh? Tell him he was nuts? Believe him?

  “More tea?”

  That was my limit. I pressed my lips together, but there was no hiding the grin. “Really?”

  He cocked his head in question, and my mug warmed in my hands as more hot tea filled it. “What?”

  “You expect me to believe you’re a…genie?”

  “Djinni. Djinn, plural.”

  Fuck, he was giving me grammar lessons, too. But he looked so deadly serious all of a sudden. All humour and joy at the memories gone.

  “Yes, that’s what we are. It took centuries of research and Rhett has amassed quite a library of books on world history, myths, and legends over the years. We have the power to make dreams come true, to a degree, and as a result, have been forced to be wary of humans and their lust for power. One of us under the control of anyone who would use our power for evil would be incredibly dangerous. Three of us? It could be disastrous. So we’ve lived in secret for many years.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about me on that score. I don’t want power. I want to do nothing. I want to be lazy.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing.” I nodded my head in confirmation.

&nbs
p; “Except to eat.”

  “Oh, I’d happily keep you around for the food. And the rescues. That was handy. And the first aid skills. But nothing bad.”

  It may have sounded like I was relaxed, joking, but inside, I was starting to panic. It wasn’t so bad when there was no name for it. When it was all in my head. Giving them a name, accepting that it was some sort of crazy magic filling up my mugs and delivering me breakfast and saving my life…

  Yeah, that was too much.

  I think my hands were trembling because Silas lowered himself from the dressing table and crouched before the bed. Reaching out, he placed a warm hand over mine to comfort me, meeting my eyes as he spoke. “We are here to help you, Maia. Please, don’t fear us. Don’t fear me. I won’t harm you. I couldn’t. I only wish to see you safe.”

  That was the first time he’d used that word, and hearing it from his mouth made me shiver. What he wished. He granted them, all the time by the looks of things, and all I’d heard of his wishes was to see me safe.

  “That’s it? That’s all you wish for?” It came out in a weird hysterical squeak, but he ignored the pitch and answered the question.

  “In my time, I recall having three wishes. My first was to discover who I was. My second was to keep my power hidden, and my third is to maintain your safety. I can’t tell you why— that’s the question I’m asking myself—but I know that my purpose is here with you. I feel it, and I trust it. I’m yours, Maia.”

  It didn’t matter what he said, his eyes held me, and his eyes asked me, and my eyes answered. I could trust him. I did trust him. He was there to help me. He would keep me safe from whatever the hell was trying to kill me. Or die trying.

  They all would. They had been sent to me. They were mine. My djinn. I had three genies at my disposal.

  I lifted my own hand to cover his, keeping him there just a little longer. I really did feel safer knowing they were there. It was all insane and it made absolutely no sense but somehow, I felt he was what I needed. I needed to trust him.