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C
HAPTER

18

A
s I crept up the dark street toward the Night Bridge, I kept my ears and eyes open, but didn't see anything that made me jumpy.

But they were there, waiting in the shadows. Two soot-smudged chimney swifts, who stepped out into the road as I started across the bridge. One of them shouted over his shoulder, and two more swifts emerged from the darkness.

They chased. I ran. Pip flew.

'Round a corner, down a narrow alley, through a park, then down another street, 'til I'd gotten away from them.

So they'd blocked the bridge. Of course they had. Crowe wasn't stupid; he knew I'd head for Heartsease. Right. I was on the Sunrise side of the city, so the best place to try next would be the Dawn Palace. Coming in the middle of the night and looking like a charboy, I might have trouble getting to see Rowan, but sure as sure the guards would take me to see Captain Kerrn.

That decided, I headed up the hill.

As I rounded a corner, there they were again, two swifts and a minion. Catching sight of me, they chased me back down the hill. I ran silent as a shadow and gave them the slip, and fetched up on the riverbank, panting, with Pip flapping behind me, also panting.

A boat. They'd blocked the bridge, so I needed a boat.

In the distance I heard a shout, then running footsteps.

Drats! They were coming again.

Quick as sticks, I skiffed down stone steps to a dock, and I was in luck. A rowboat with oars set inside. I untied the rope and jumped into the boat; Pip jumped in after me and I shoved us off the dock. Heavy feet pounded down the steps, but we were away.

I rowed hard, thinking even harder. Sure as sure, Crowe's minions would be waiting to jump me if I went to Heartsease, just like they'd jumped me once before. So I wouldn't go there, I'd go to ground in the Twilight and make my way to Embre at Dusk House. Crowe would never catch me in the twisty streets of the Twilight; he never had before, anyway.

I beached the boat on a stretch of mud near a Twilight warehouse that loomed like a cliff face out of the dark, then climbed up to a rutted path. With Pip flying behind me, I skiffed along until I got to Ten Crane Street that ran along the river.

From down the street, shouts and a flare of light.

Curse it, they'd gotten ahead of me again!

I whirled and headed back the way I'd come. All right, all right. The back alleys. It'd take longer, but I could get to Dusk House that way. I started down another alley and heard running footsteps coming, so I headed in the other direction. 'Round another corner and across a wider street; I tripped on a pothole and went sprawling. Pip sprawled in a puddle beside me. Scrambling to my feet, I paused to grab up panting Pip, and raced away again.

Rounding a corner, I caught a quick-look behind me at the chasers. Swifts again, with that same hooded figure as before. A wizard. Nimble?

My legs quivered with tiredness as I pelted down one alley and up another. Rest. I needed a rest. I slipped into a narrow gap between two falling-down houses and ducked behind a pile of trash to catch my breath. Pip climbed up to my shoulder and clung there, its tail limp, its head drooping.

“Tired?” I whispered to it.

Krrrr
, Pip breathed.

At the end of the alley, a flare of light. “He's down this way!” Nimble's whiny voice shouted.

Curse it! I jumped to my feet. It was almost like they were tracking me!

Wait. How could I have been so stupid? They
were
tracking me. Nimble had his locus stone—he was working with Crowe, so he must have lied about it being stolen—and he must have a scrying globe, too. He was using the anstriker spell.

I stumble-ran through the gap between the houses and right into the arms of two swifts.

“
Finalelenon!
” I shouted, the needle-prickler spell, and they shrieked as tiny spell-sparks stung them all over. I jerked myself out of their hands and ran.

Right, so Crowe would have his minions and swifts spread like a net all over the city, searching for me, tracking me. Time to do something he wouldn't expect.

I headed for the mudflats.

 

I stumbled up to the mudlarks' shack. A wind had started blowing and a couple of drops of rain pattered down. Thunder grumbled in the lands beyond the Sunrise.

Way behind me, at the head of the path along the mudflats, was a glimmer of lights. Followers. They were coming.

Bang-bang-bang
on the door, and I leaned my head against the doorframe, gasping for breath. Come
on
.

The door creaked open.

“
Lothfalas
,” I panted, and Pip breathed out a glowing cloud of sparks that hovered over our heads. The light showed the mudlark Den in his warm coat and, peering over his shoulder, the girl Jo. In the shadows behind them, I saw the gleaming eyes of the mudlark-kids, sitting up in their blankets.

“What d'you want?” Den grunted.

I caught my breath. “I need your help.”

“Helped you once already,” Den said. “Now take yourself off.” He started to close the door.

Jo pushed past him. “No—wait,” she said. She looked from my face to Pip on my shoulder. “I know who you really are. You did magic there, with the light. You're that wizard boy. We heard a story about you.” She nudged Den. “Remember?”

Den shrugged. “Maybe.”

Jo went on. “You're the one who was a gutterkid, like us, and blew up that other wizard's house and almost got hanged for it, and stole a magical jewel from the Underlord. That's you, right?”

Not exactly, but it was too much to explain. “Right,” I said. I glanced back toward the city. The followers were closer, their lights bobbing up and down as they ran along the path. The rain pattered down harder.

“Yeah, I remember,” Den said. “The gutterboy-wizard. They coming for you?” Den wiped raindrops off his face.

Oh, he wasn't going to like this. “It's Crowe. He's come back to Wellmet.”

“Crowe?” Den repeated. Beside him, Jo went pale. “And you led him
here
?” Den turned to speak to the other mudlarks. “Get up. We're leaving.” Behind him, the kids were gathering their rags and blankets.

“Sorry,” I said. Drats, I should have thought of this. “I'll lead them away if I can.” I talked faster. “But I need you to take a message for me. Will you help me?”

Den opened his mouth—to say
no
, sure as sure—but Jo interrupted. Maybe she was the boss, after all. “He's a gutterkid like us, Den, even if he is a wizard,” she said. “And it's Crowe he's talking about. Crowe's bad.” She spoke to me. “We don't want him back here, sending his minions to beat us up if we don't give him most of our takings. We'll help. We'd better hurry.” She pointed at the mudflats path. “They're getting close.”

“All right,” Den said to me. “What d'you need?”

In the distance I heard a shout. The lights moved closer. Torches.

“Will you take a message to the wizard Nevery, on Heartsease island?”

“To a wizard?” Den stared at me. Raindrops pattered down around us. Jo nudged him, and he shrugged. “Got to get them settled first.” He pointed over his shoulder toward the other mudlarks. “But once that's done I'll find this Nevery. What message?”

I steadied Pip on my shoulder and got ready to run. “Tell him it's Crowe who's stealing the locus stones.”

“Crowe stealing the stones,” Den repeated. “Right. What else?”

“Tell Nevery that Nimble's one of them, and if he doesn't hear from me soon he should use the anstriker spell to find me, and to look for Crowe.” What else? “Tell him Crowe's using a house in the Sunrise, along the river.”

Jo pulled at Den's sleeve. “Come on.”

I took a few steps away, then turned back. “Tell Nevery to be careful,” I added. “And I'll help you later if I can.”

“Sure you will,” Den said. “Come on,” he said to the mudlarks, who had crept outside. They faded away into the rainy darkness beyond the shack.

I led the minions and swifts on a chase through the marshes and mud. Then, too tired to run any more, I hid.

C
HAPTER

19

I
crouched behind a clump of rattly dry grasses at the edge of the mudflats, panting, my heart pounding. Pip huddled at my feet. The minions and swifts surrounded us.

“Come on out, wizard boy,” one of the chimney swifts growled.

Not likely. The circle closed in. Trying to make a last run for it, I jumped up, shouting the dazzler spell, but somebody seized me from behind and clamped a hand over my mouth, and then the swift Drury was there, gripping my muddy legs, lifting me off the ground. I squirmed and thrashed. Pip launched itself at Drury's face, hissing and clawing, but he ducked his head and held me tight. Then one of the minions, his eyes streaming from the dazzler spell, grabbed Pip by the scruff of its neck and stuffed it into a sack. Sootle brought another sack, one damp with the rain, and he and Drury shoved me into it. I shouted part of the needle-prickler spell and somebody thumped me, a punch right in my stomach that took my breath away.

“Quickly,” I heard Nimble's voice say. “He's waiting by the river.”

He.
Crowe, he meant. I tried squirm-worming my way out of the bag, but somebody picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, and off we went, squelching along the mudflat path.

As we went bump-bump-bumping along, I caught my breath and, as loud as I could, shouted the needle-prickler spell. A couple of paces away, I heard Nimble shriek and drop the bag that Pip was in. It landed with a squelchy thud on the ground.

Then—
thump
—and ow, another breathtaking punch. “Stay quiet in there,” growled the minion carrying me. “No more spells.”

He jogged along for couple of long minutes, went over some rough ground, then paused.

“In here,” one of the chimney swifts said. “Hurry.”

The minion tossed me and I bounced off what felt like a wall and crashed onto the ground. Catching my breath, I pulled the damp sack off my head. The surface under me felt bumpy and cold. Light from the torches flickered off wire mesh. I reached out with my hands and touched more wires.

Had they put me into a cage?

I shook my head. Something was wrong. Usually I could feel the steady strength of Arhionvar and the warmth of the old Wellmet magic, but they had disappeared. I couldn't feel my locus magicalicus, either. My head felt echoing and empty. “Pip!” I shouted.

“Quiet,” a swift said, and thumped the cage. Other minions and swifts were moving, dark shadows beyond the light of the torch.

“Get the cloth,” Sootle said. Rain dripped from the ends of his stringy black hair. Drury nodded and went down the bank to what looked like a rowboat beached on the muddy shore; he returned with a folded canvas and rope. With the rain still pelting down, they wrapped the cage in the canvas.

Inside the cage was dark, and the sound of the raindrops was a muffled
pattery-pat
on the cloth over my head. The cage was box-shaped, made of metal mesh, big enough that I could lie down in it if I curled up, and a little taller than I was. I used my damp sweater-sleeve to wipe the rain off my face. Without the magics, I felt cold and alone. Shivering, I crouched at the bottom of the cage.

I wasn't dead, at least. If they wanted me dead, they'd have done it already. So they wanted me for something else.

After a moment I heard the sound of footsteps and low voices, talking.

“Put it in,” I heard Crowe's cold voice say. A prickle of icy dread ran over my skin. So he was here, too.

A swift said something, and Crowe answered. “Yes, the other house. Hurry.”

The cage lifted and jounced along and was set down, right-side-up. The ground rocked. The rowboat, then. It rocked again, people stepping into the boat, and the slither of ropes as they tied the cage down, then a push and we were out in the river.

No, they were not going to take me that easily.

If I rocked the boat, they'd have to go back to shore. I got to my feet and hurled myself against the side of the cage. The boat rocked. I threw myself back against the other side and the boat rocked again. I heard splashing and a curse, and then a
thwack
that shook the cage, somebody hitting it with an oar, I guessed.

“Stop that,” hissed Sootle's voice, and then another
thwack
.

Instead of stopping, I flung myself against the side of the cage again. The boat lurched and I heard more cursing and the sound of river water slopping over the sides of the boat.

“Stop,” Crowe's sharp voice ordered. “Unwrap it.”

A few jerks and tugs, and the canvas was off the cage. I crouched at the bottom of it, water sloshing around my bare feet. Rain pelted down from overhead. I was in the middle of the rowboat, Sootle at the oars just behind me, Nimble in the front, with a tangle of rope and the sack with Pip in it at his feet, along with a werelight lantern.

Crowe sat on a wide plank seat. He wore a dark cloak, and in the dim light his eyes gleamed like silver locks with dark keyholes. Raindrops streamed down his face. He leaned toward me. “You'd like to go for a swim, Connwaer?” he whispered. He nodded at Sootle and pointed at my cage. “Put him in.”

“Yes sir,” Sootle said. He set aside the oars, swiped the stringy hair out of his eyes, and he and a nastily smiling Nimble gripped the cage and heaved it over the side of the boat, into the river.

Water flooded in, icy cold, over my legs, up to my neck. I gripped the top of the cage with my fingers, holding my head above the waves, gasping from the cold. I peered up through the darkness, through the lashing rain and the hair dripping into my eyes, at Crowe looking down at me from the edge of the boat, at Nimble and Sootle holding the sides of the cage.

“Lower,” Crowe said.

Down the cage went. I caught one quick gasp of air and the icy-cold water closed over my head. Everything went quiet except for the bump of the cage against the side of the boat and the faint hiss of rain hitting the surface of the river.

The cage came up. Water streamed from the wire mesh. I caught my breath.

Crowe's face leaned down toward me. “So you wanted to upset the boat, did you?” he asked. “It follows that you must like water. D'you want some more?”

A wave sloshed over my face. I swallowed murk-muddy river water and coughed it out again. I shook my head. No, I didn't want any more.

“Are you going to cooperate with me?” Crowe asked.

Oh, drats. “No,” I croaked out.

Crowe's face set, and he jerked a nod at Sootle and Nimble. “Down.”

They lowered the cage and the water closed over my head. My hair floated in front of my eyes like riverweed. I clung to the wires at the top of the cage, my fingers numb with cold, staring up through the murky water but seeing only darkness. The water squeezed at my lungs, wanting me to breathe it in. Thunder roared in my ears and the blackness pressed in around me.

My fingers loosened their grip on the wires.

Let me up!