The Dark Light (15 page)

“We can’t take that chance. Tiamet, any way you could get to Fortknee?”

“With my back?” said Crowley. “It’d take me three weeks.”

“Then we have to make a choice,” said Sol. He looked from one to the other. “The Solenetta can’t reach the Suzerain.”

“If Malone has it, he’d be with his gang right now,” continued Delane, enforcing his point with a tap on the table, “riding full pelt to Orion.”

“I doubt it,” said Sol. “That would announce that he has something special. He’d stay well away, travel alone. He wouldn’t want to draw that kind of attention from the other gangs.”

“Or he’d give it straight to the sentinels.”

“And miss an opportunity to bargain for the best price? Not Malone.”

Delane shrugged. “Then we’re back at the beginning.”

“Not quite,” said Sol.

I was happy to listen and soak up whatever information I could. It might help me find Jay. But I found myself drawn in to Sol’s words, his presence. I was not alone. Rip hung on every word, and Crowley, at least fifty years his elder, nodded at everything Sol said. At this table, Sol was respected.

“Rip can send a couple of men to Fortknee,” said Sol, seemingly oblivious to the way they watched him. Or maybe he was just used to it. “That way we at least know there’s a chance for grains. Mia can hide here until they return.”

Wait here?
I hadn’t agreed to that. After everything Sol had told me last night, he expected me to sit here and do nothing?

“Then we head off after Malone’s gang,” said Delane. “At last. Some action.”

“Not yet,” said Sol. “I’d rather not leave Mia alone unless we absolutely have to. Let’s find out what Malone’s got.” He looked at Crowley. “It’s time to make a house call.”

It was time to speak up. “I’ll come too,” I said.

“The only place you’re going is Crownsville,” Sol replied.

“Not without Jay. You brought me here, Sol, don’t—”

He stiffened at my side, the gold in his eyes flaring as he turned to face me. “I told you to stop on the Ridge,” he said. “I told you not to do it.”

“You told me nothing!” I replied. “But now I’m here and
until we find Jay, everywhere you go, I go. I’m coming, Sol, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

A wheezy chuckle split the tension. Old Man Crowley struggled to his feet. “She’s a Crownsville girl, all right. Bring her along. Malone won’t know what’s hit him!”

My new number one favorite person in the world—
any
world—Old Man Crowley, headed for the door, but turned back when we began to follow. He looked me up and down. “Second thoughts,” he said, offering me another top to tail. “You can’t go out looking like that. Not unless you plan on setting yourself up as a new Runner in town.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on me. I checked to make sure I hadn’t sprouted a gutterscamp’s tail overnight, then noticed my jeans. “Oh no,” I said. “If you think I’m wearing a dress, you can forget it!”

* * *

Rip happened to have one dress, a red, floor-length sack that weighed about ten pounds and reeked as if it had spent the last two years rotting in the bottom of an old chest. Of course, it just had to be my size. Surely, wearing a sandwich board with “I’m not from around here” in huge letters would have been less conspicuous. The feeling disappeared as soon as we stepped outside.

Daylight had filled the streets of Bordertown with people, the likes of which I never could have imagined. The first man
I saw outside the house looked as I would have expected, but for his thick, long black hair, which had been braided like rope, coiled around his torso, and tied in a knot at his waist. A portly, elderly woman had tattoos of plants and flowers, the species of which I didn’t know, across her arms and neck. I also saw tails. I saw
scales
. Eyes of every color. Skin of every shade. My plain red dress looked as everyday as jeans and a T-shirt in Crownsville.

I tried not to stare as everyone went about their business. But when a woman Willie’s height, half her weight, and with a ridge of iridescent green spines along the back of her arms passed us, I couldn’t help but ask.

“What’s wrong with them?” I whispered to Crowley.

“Wrong?”
asked Crowley. “Many are pure, maybe the only pure things left in this world of a thousand races.”

I’d assumed this world was filled with people like Sol and Delane, regular-looking people. But a thousand races?

“So many?” I asked. “Aren’t they human?”

“They’re all kinds,” said Crowley. “Plenty look like you, too.”

I guessed he was right. There
were
regular-looking folk. It was just easy to miss them among the spectacles.

“What kinds of races are they?”

“Who can name them all these days?” he said, as if it was no big deal. “There were originally five great families. The Bala and the Samu. The Beseye and the Simbia. And then the Norgoncar, a
family of spirits. Over time, Samu bred with Simbia, and Beseye with Norgoncar. And look what you get! Better than everyone looking the same, don’t you think?”

Honestly? I didn’t know.

“So what are you?” I asked. I tried not to stare as a bearded woman passed on my right. “You look human.”

“As do you.”

“I
am
human.”

“Then that’s what you must be. As am I.”

Totally befuddled, I looked at Sol and Delane, who walked ahead. I thought about Sol’s tattoo and the golden flecks in his eyes, but thought it was probably impolite to ask Crowley outright about Sol’s family.

We turned off the road and onto a side street encased in shadow. Sol and Delane stopped at a low wooden door.

“Mia, stay quiet in here,” said Sol, as Crowley and I joined them.

I was still kind of annoyed that he blamed me for being here. After last night, I thought we’d moved beyond all that. I put a finger to my lips.

“I’m serious,” he said. “If someone wanted to buy Malone’s mother’s blood, he would slit her throat and bleed her dry.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Just don’t forget what he is.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, feigning boredom.

“He’s the leader of the largest Runner gang both here and in any of the towns with Barrier weaknesses,” said Sol. “He buys, steals, and sells to the highest bidder. And not just things, Mia—people, information. Nothing happens in this part of Brakaland that he doesn’t know about. He’ll know someone came through the Barrier. He’s been talking with sentinels and they work for the Suzerain.”

“Then I’ll keep my mouth shut,” I said, knowing I sounded peevish. “Glad to help.”

“I’ll go first,” said Crowley. He pushed to the front. “Malone owes me a favor after the last load I brought across for him. Let’s see if we can’t keep this friendly.”

Crowley put his hand on Sol’s arm as he knocked, and I couldn’t help but think that his final comment had been directed at Sol. Crowley knocked again. Then, without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and the two stepped inside. I followed with Delane, curious to meet a man who’d sell his own mother’s blood but annoyed that Sol was right. Sometimes it was best to keep your mouth shut. This was probably one of those times.

“Stay behind me,” whispered Delane, as he closed the door. “This one’s a clawcurler.”

Careful not to trip over my dress, I shuffled into a vast, but low, room. Crates and boxes, stacked floor to ceiling, formed
long, gloomy aisles, like a Target from Hell. Lining the aisles were piles of chairs, rugs, suitcases. Posters of sailboats, kittens, and cityscapes hung on the walls. There was a bicycle, a child’s drum kit, hat stands, cabinets, all stacked randomly, like the car tire on the ottoman to my right, and the lawnmower draped with ladies’ scarves. A grandfather clock ticked in the corner. Everything here came from my world. Most of it looked like junk. I wondered how much had originated in Crownsville and whether, if I looked long enough, I might happen upon the ice skates I’d “lost” in seventh grade.

“Look who it is.”

The voice came from the rear of the room, but with Sol and Delane blocking my view, I couldn’t yet see the infamous Malone. I peered over Delane’s shoulder, but couldn’t spy anyone amid the boxes.

Shuffling footsteps followed and then Duddon Malone appeared. I don’t know what I’d expected. A dark, swarthy villain with scars and an eye patch maybe? What I saw instead was a small, fat man with curly gray hair, red cheeks, and eyes to match. He bobbed as he walked, like a little red robin snuffling for worms.

“This is a rare honor,” he said, his voice deeper than I expected from a man of his height. “Come for something in particular?”

“We’ve come for information,” said Crowley. He stepped in
front of Sol. “About what happened last night. The whole town saw it.”

“And the whole town’s talking about it,” said Malone. He waddled closer and caught sight of me peering out from behind Delane. He looked at Sol. “Sure I can’t tempt you with something expensive instead? For the young lady, perhaps?” His smile revealed teeth more sharply pointed than Rip’s. “I’m certain to have something she’d like.”

Though Sol was almost twice Malone’s height and probably could have sneezed him to the ground, the guy still creeped me out. Given a choice between a staring contest with Malone’s pink eyes and the visage demon beneath my window, I’d take the demon on every time.

“Let me show you this,” he said, and, without looking, forced his arm into the clutter on a nearby desk. “I know I left it somewhere. Ahh, here it is.”

He withdrew a plastic tiara, like from a child’s costume box, but it was the tattooed eye on the back of Malone’s hand that caught my attention. The eye was large and lined thickly in black, the iris green. I felt it watching me. In fact, I was certain Malone had used the eye to find the tiara. It wasn’t a comforting thought.

I glanced at Delane for a reaction, but he looked bored. Crowley’s expression showed something different: He still expected trouble.

“Just information for today, Duddon,” said Crowley. “You can at least spare that.”

“Tiamet,” said Malone. He placed the tiara back on the desk like it was the Queen of England’s jewels. “What can I say that you won’t already know?” His gaze shot again to Sol, but the eye on his hand stared at me. I shuffled closer to Delane and conceded Sol’s point. I probably shouldn’t have come.

“How about a charm?” continued Malone. “Or maybe a bracelet. Or perhaps a necklace.”

A loud crash followed. I jumped about a foot in the air. Sol had knocked a crate of dishes off the shelf beside him. China shattered at our feet.

Without word, Sol headed for Malone, Delane close on his heels. Crowley immediately intervened.

“Duddon, just tell us what you know and we’ll be gone.”

From the purpose in Sol’s strides, it didn’t appear that he was ready to play Malone’s games any longer.

“How about a necklace?” Sol hissed. He towered over Malone’s quivering mass. “Now that you mention it. Something in yellow. Got anything like that?”

Malone’s ratty eyes darted left and right. “Afraid I don’t,” he gasped. “Sounds expensive, though. Wouldn’t have any trouble finding a buyer for something like—”

Sol grabbed Malone’s throat. I felt like I should look away,
but another part of me wanted to see Malone get what he deserved. More than that, Sol and this sudden show of force gripped me. I’d seen him with a sword in his hand, but it hadn’t registered that Sol would use it as a weapon. With his fingers around Malone’s throat, Sol had unleashed a power that always simmered inside him.

“What happened at the Barrier last night?” he spat.

“Two people came through,” spluttered Malone.

“Who?”

“No one knows! They were gone by the time the sentinels arrived.”

“What else?”

“Nothing else.” Malone’s skin was turning purple.

“Then why were you on the Ridge this morning?”

Malone’s chubby fingers grappled Sol’s grip. Sol did not let go.

“You know the rules,” he wheezed. “Everything that enters Bordertown comes through me.”

“Rules can be changed,” Sol growled.

“I was just fishing for gossip,” replied Malone, trying to shake his head. “The Barrier’s my business. Pick on Tiamet. He’s up there often enough.”

Sol shoved him back, almost knocking Malone off his feet. “You getting cozy with sentinels is
my
business,” he spat. “If you
want to keep this operation going, you’d better learn to
cooperate
. Do you understand?”

Malone stayed back, his hands at his throat, his gut heaving as he breathed. “I know how things work around here.”

“Then don’t forget it,” said Sol, turning toward the door.

We all followed. Happy to be leaving, I lifted my skirt to navigate the broken china. I glanced back, uncomfortable letting Malone out of my sight. Malone leaned against a cabinet, arms folded, with a sly smile plastered across his face. His gaze dropped to my feet and lingered there. With a very bad feeling, I hurried after the others and back onto the street.

“He knows,” said Sol. “Tiamet?”

“He’s got it, all right,” Crowley replied, puffing to keep up with Sol’s long strides. “So what do we do about it?”

“We go after them. Mia can stay with Rip until we can get grains.”

I was almost jogging to keep up, the sights and spectacles around me all but forgotten.

“Guys,” I said. “I think—”

“We can make it if we head straight out,” said Delane. “Cut them off before Malone sends a warning.”

“Cheating little rat,” said Sol.

I jogged a few more steps.
“Guys!”

Finally, they stopped and turned. I looked from one to the
other, hating to break bad news, but, “I think we have a problem.”

“A big problem,” agreed Delane. “The Solenetta is definitely en route to the Suzerain.”

“A different problem.” I checked the street, then raised the hem of my skirt.

“Sneakers?”
exclaimed Sol.

I sagged. “I think he saw them.”

“Rip gave you shoes.”

“They barely fit! Besides, I’ve seen other people wearing sneakers. Look!” I pointed to a scaly guy across the street. “They’re Nikes.”