FoM02 Trammel (27 page)

He put the needle down carefully and picked up the tiny pocketknife. It was a folding knife with only a single blade about an inch long. Once it was open, he stared at it for a long moment, like he was weighing something. Then he drew it across his left palm.

In the dark, it was hard to see how much damage a little thing like that could do, and Noah kept his hand closed. He put the knife down and picked up the compass needle. That went into his left hand as well and he clenched his fist around it.

“Here we go.” Noah picked up the sugar bowl full of water and backed away from the car. “Someone else want to put that stuff away?”

“I’ll get it.” Lindsay tried to keep an eye on Noah while he was at it. He didn’t like the idea of Noah slicing his hand open, however shallowly it might have been, and he had no idea what Noah might do next.

The water bottle, compass pieces and mirror all went back in the bag with the black cloth. Lindsay left the bag in the trunk and, after checking that Kristan had the car keys, closed it up. “What now?”

“Now we get directions.” Noah held his hand out and light began seeping through his fingers. For a moment, the blood running down his wrist was visible, and then the fire flared white, sucking the blood into it. Lindsay could feel raw heat coming from the flames; it was like standing next to a torch. “This had better work.”

Noah opened his hand and the fire rolled into to a red-orange globe on his palm. The compass needle was a tiny shadow spinning on top. Moving carefully, Noah slipped the ball of fire into the bowl, where it sank beneath the surface until only the needle remained on top, lit from underneath by the burning globe.

The spinning slowed once the needle met the resistance of the water, and it wiggled about before selecting a direction that would take them deep into the circle of the mound.

“And why do we not know how to do this?” Kristan flicked her flashlight on.

“Excellent question.” Lindsay could think of a few reasons. “Poor timing, maybe. It isn’t as though we haven’t been busy with other things.” Like
Moore
.

“I need to focus on this little bastard,” Noah muttered. “Must be your influence, Kristan. Thing won’t stop nattering.” The colors of the globe oscillated like it was trying to get hotter, flaring and subsiding.

“Someone else can find the best path.” He held his wounded hand out to Lindsay.

In the light from the bowl, Lindsay could see it was clean except for a few beads of blood gathering along the edge of a clotted gash across Noah’s palm. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had Noah’s blood on him—there wasn’t anything of Noah that Lindsay hadn’t touched, nothing of Noah he couldn’t have. He was struck all over again by how much Noah was
his
. He slipped his hand into Noah’s and guided him around a rock.

“I feel like an idiot doing parlor tricks,” Noah murmured when they stopped to let Kristan go ahead and find the best way around a small gully. “I’m sorry if this doesn’t work. If we end up outside a liquor store, we know what happened, though.”

Lindsay snorted quietly. “We’ll figure something out.”

As they walked, Lindsay stretched his illusion out in front of them. For a long time, there was nothing. This was a magical place, though, and even the nothingness was filled with eddies of magic flowing around them. The last time he’d been in a place this full of magic, everything had been different. In Ezqel’s cave, Dane had stood beside him, had held his hands and kissed his lips and washed away his fear.

Now, Dane was lost and Lindsay was alone with his fear.

Finally, the illusion snagged on one person, and another. He kept going, feeling for more, until he started touching the crowds of the residential areas, clumps of minds, all sleeping, dreaming.

And something more. The wild, raw taste of chaos. They were human, but not, and every one of them felt somehow familiar, though not all the same. Hounds, Lindsay realized, ripping his illusion back into himself as quickly as he could. There were Hounds near here, Hounds that tasted like Jonas.

The soft sounds of Noah and Kristan breathing reminded him he wasn’t alone. He could tell them what he’d found... But there was nothing any of them could do about it now.

Slowly, he sent out a fresh wave of illusion to conceal them, and with it, he sought those first two minds he’d caught before.

“There’s someone nearby,” Lindsay said quietly. “Two people.” He’d never had Ylli or Zoey in his illusions before, and the magic around him was too intense to tell if any of it belonged to either person.

With the Hounds nearby and something already hunting them, Lindsay didn’t dare try to put himself behind the eyes of the people he’d caught. He needed to be inside himself, in case his illusion failed.

The long walk, got easier once the little compass locked on to a direction and held steady. As far as Lindsay could tell, they were headed for the two people he felt.

That left Noah free to help them find the way, instead of trying to tame the needle, and he was more skilled at this than Lindsay had expected. He had a better sense of where the best paths lay than either Kristan or Lindsay. Now, Noah was helping Lindsay up slopes and around obstacles, and Kristan was only a few feet behind them, keeping the light pooled around their feet.

Lindsay was grimy and sweaty, his hair had been snagged by branches at almost every turn, his shins had been banged on deadfalls lurking in the dark, and he’d nearly turned his ankle when the footing on a hill turned out to be insufficient. Kristan was muttering curses and threatening Noah in turns. As they trudged along the tree line on the side of a hill, the minds inside his illusion grew larger, closer.

“We’re close,” he said, then realized Ylli and Zoey wouldn’t be able to see them. “I need to fix the illusion.”

“Okay.” Noah let go of him and sank down to sit in the long grass. Kristan sat next to him and wiped her face with the hem of her shirt. She ran her hands through her hair, pulling out twigs. Both of them looked like completely different people from the ones who had last left Cyrus’s house. Given how exhausted they seemed, Lindsay could only assume he resembled the walking dead.

Cautiously, he focused on the illusion keeping them hidden from view. Ylli and Zoey wouldn’t be able to find them if they couldn’t be seen. Without dropping the illusion entirely, he wove a hole in it to exclude the two minds he now recognized.

Once he’d sealed it into place again, he dropped down to sit near Noah and Kristan. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he said, “They’ll be able to see us now, even if no one else can.”

“Ylli will be here soon.” Kristan pushed herself to her feet. “He’s a jumpy little bugger. You said no one else could hear or see us, right?”

“Right.”

This moment of relief in the wilderness reminded Lindsay of his hike with Dane through the Black Forest. Dane. He hoped this didn’t turn out the same way, with some monster jumping out of the woodwork and leaving one of them nearly dead. Jonas was wherever Moore held Dane, but there were other beasts at Moore’s disposal, and they weren’t far from here.

Noah let the globe of fire go out and emptied the bowl before he tucked the bowl and needle away in one of his jacket pockets. They were alone in the dark now, with Kristan carrying the flashlight toward the trees.

Lindsay tensed, sitting up again, watching the darkness for movement. The Hounds were out there somewhere. A repeat of the Black Forest was more likely than he wanted to admit to himself.

Kristan whistled sharply, cutting the silence. “I think he’s coming.” She kept looking up to the tops of the trees. Moments later, there was a soft sound of wings on the air, and a large shadow detached from the

dark mass of the tree line.

“Lindsay? Kristan?” The shadow dropped into the ring of light cast by the flashlight. Ylli looked thinner than usual, but he seemed to be in one piece.

Lindsay took a slow breath, keeping a grip on his fear, and stood.

“We’re here.”

“How did you—” Ylli stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Noah. “You’re alive?” He stared a moment and shook his head. “Never mind. I need to get back and tell Zoey it’s safe.”

Lindsay glanced at Noah, remembering what he’d looked like the last time Ylli had seen him, but he pushed it away and turned to Ylli.

“Bring her. We can’t stay here.” Lindsay’s anxiety was making it hard to breathe. “We have to go.”

“Where?” Ylli paused with his wings half-spread. “We can’t go home.” Lindsay wanted to answer, but he couldn’t make the words.

“We have a place,” Noah said, getting to his feet. He brought up a flame in one hand and came to stand in front of Lindsay, pushing Lindsay’s hair back with his free hand. “Lindsay, what’s wrong?”

The firelight made the orange heat in Noah’s eyes burn brighter. He was as warm as sunshine.

Lindsay remembered the wall of fire sweeping down the boardwalk, and his fear eased enough that he could talk.

“Things are hunting us,” he managed to say. “I think I felt one of them back in Detroit, a flicker, but I didn’t know what it was. They’ve gotten more intense since we moved away from the lake, coming here.

There are Hounds here too.”

“I have to get Zoey.” Ylli was airborne before all words were out of his mouth.

“You didn’t tell us?” Kristan stepped forward to grab Lindsay, but Noah warded her off with his handful of flame.

“His reasons are his own.” Noah turned that burning stare on her. “He’s told us now.”

“We can go back to Detroit,” Lindsay said quietly, reaching out to put a hand on Noah’s chest, soothing both of them. “It didn’t find us there and I know what to watch for now. Since it hasn’t found us, it may not look there again. But I think we have to get out of here.” Even the house in Detroit was better than this. Lindsay had never imagined wanting to go back.

“I’ll leave a trail for you to follow when Ylli gets back.” Noah threw fire on the ground, where it burned without touching the grass. “I’m taking Lindsay to the car.”

“Go on.” Kristan stepped back toward the trees. “Be careful.”

“I would never do less.” Noah slid his arm around Lindsay’s shoulders and drew him in. He started leading Lindsay back to the car, trailing a thread of fire behind them.

Lindsay leaned into him, conserving his energy and putting all his magic behind an illusion that was so perfect, it was the next best thing to real. All that training with Dane had done him good. But he couldn’t stop the relentless whisper in his head that wouldn’t let him forget—he’d never won that race.

Chapter Thirteen

There was little relief to be found on the long drive home. For one thing, they were crammed into the car and no one could really claim to be comfortable, not even Lindsay, who was pressed up close against Noah while Kristan drove. Noah’s eyes were closed, but Lindsay could feel his tension. In the back, Ylli was worst off, with his wings folded along his sides as best he could and his back to the door. Zoey had curled up at the opposite end of the backseat and, when Lindsay glanced back, her eyes were a flicker of suspicion and confusion in the dark.

There was no chance of Lindsay relaxing, not even in Noah’s arms. Even after the searching pressure was off of them and the last hint of the Hounds was far behind, he couldn’t let it go. Moore had someone—

or something—new that hunted thoughts. The mind searching for them hadn’t been Lourdes and—for some reason—he was certain that she hadn’t betrayed them. They wouldn’t have made it out in one piece if she had. His only consolation was that his illusions seemed to hold up against the new threat.

After an hour on the road, Kristan finally spoke.

“Back to the same place?”

Noah shifted at the sound of her voice and Lindsay glanced up to find Noah looking down at him expectantly. It hadn’t occurred to Lindsay to go anywhere else. They had a few friends—or at least a few resources—and whatever had been searching for them before had been there once and left empty-handed.

“Yes.” If they were staying in Patches’s territory... There was so much he still didn’t know. “I should go speak to Patches, ask her permission.”

“No.” Lindsay got the word in stereo as both Noah and Kristan spoke at once.

“You’ll look weak if you go,” Noah explained. “We can’t do that. You should let someone else go for you. At least send Kristan, and someone else.”

Like a delegation. Lindsay could appreciate that.

“You should come,” Kristan said, glancing over at Noah.

“I’m not leaving the house unprotected.”

Lindsay felt irritation wash through Noah’s body as his muscles rippled. Suddenly, he saw Cyrus in his mind’s eye, with Vivian and Dane having a similar argument. The image made him want to laugh—the more things changed, the more they stayed the same—almost as much as it made his chest ache with grief. It was up to him to settle these things now.

“I need you to go if she says it will help.” Lindsay shifted to see Noah better, and he cupped Noah’s hot cheek in his hand. “We’ll be less safe if Patches decides we’re more trouble to have around than not.”

Noah’s jaw clenched, but he kissed Lindsay’s palm. “As you will.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t make me pull this thing over to puke,” Kristan muttered.

Noah laughed at that, softly, without taking his eyes from Lindsay. He relaxed enough to give Lindsay a soft kiss on the mouth that was as welcome as clean water. Lindsay leaned into it, seeking comfort, and was rewarded with Noah pulling him close.

Maybe he’d try to rest a little now. With Noah’s kisses stealing his tension, Lindsay finally felt the weight of all his exhaustion. He wove the illusion that hid them tighter. If it slipped in his sleep, it would still be strong enough to hold until he was awake. Only then did he rest his head on Noah’s shoulder and close his eyes.

The motion of Noah carefully moving to get him out of the car was enough to wake Lindsay, even though the bright light of day hadn’t kept him from sleeping for the last hour of the trip. The drive had been uneventful but tedious, and Lindsay’s head was throbbing with the unbearable tension of
nothing
happening.